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#team never met Taylor
waitimcomingtoo · 1 year
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Bringing Sexy Back
Pairing: Peter Parker x Stark!Reader
Synopsis: Peter tries and fails to seduce you
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To kick off the summer, Tony organized a group vacation to a resort at “one of his less crowded islands”, as he put it. The team sat together on the quinjet while Tony gave out the room assignments to everyone, ending with you and Peter.
“Parker and my beloved offspring, you’re in the penthouse suit with me. But don’t worry, you guys have your own room. It’s just connected to mine with thin walls and a door I can easily break down.” Tony said with a calm smile.
“Thanks, dad.” You smiled back at him before excusing yourself to go to the bathroom. Once you were gone, Sam leaned over to him.
“Wow, I feel for you, man. You really got the short end of the stick.” Sam said and patted Peters back.
“Short? I’m 5’8. That’s average height.” Peter defended himself.
“For a woman.” Sam snorted. “But that’s not what I meant.”
“What did you mean?” Peter wondered.
“I mean you finally get to spend the night with your girlfriend and her dad is in the next room. That means the only way you’re getting laid is if you crawl up a chicken's ass and wait.” Sam replied, making everyone laugh at Peters's expense.
“Oh. That’s gotta hurt.” Bruce laughed. “It hurt me and it wasn’t even directed at me.”
“That’s called a ricochet.” Natasha said. “Also done by bullets and Taylor Swifts tears.”
“I understood that reference.” Steve chimed in.
“Did you?” Peter asked skeptically, making Steve’s smile fall.
“That’s the one that sings “Single Ladies”, right?” He whispered to Natasha.
“Uh huh.” Natasha smiled sarcastically.
“Are you gonna take that, Parker?” Bruce asked Peter. Peter noticed everyone was looking at him and blushed in embarrassment.
“It wasn’t that clever. Chickens don’t even lay eggs. Hens do. And we don’t do that so it doesn’t matter.” He mumbled. Everyone’s eyes widths they leaned forward in their seats.
“Don’t do what?” Sam asked for clarification. Peter looked around at all the peering eyes and shrunk down in his seat.
“Sex.” Peter reluctantly admitted.
“You don’t do sex?” Sam laughed in surprise.
“Have we forgotten how to speak?” Natasha asked the crowd.
“Why are you guys all looking at me the way we looked at Bucky when he told us he didn’t wash his ass in the shower?” Peter asked.
“It honestly never crossed my mind.” Bucky shrugged.
“Hold on. How long have you guys been together?” Bruce asked Peter.
“Two months.”
“Two months? And you haven’t smushed yet?” Sam gasped.
“Ew. Smushed? There’s no actual smushing involved, right?” Peter forced a laugh. No one replied and his smile fell.
“Right?” He asked seriously.
“No offense kid, but that’s a long time to keep a lady waiting.” Steve said. “You two need to do a little bit of the old how’s yer father, if you know what I mean.”
“I don’t. What the fuck does that mean?” Sam asked and pulled out his phone.
“Who are you to talk? Aren’t you a 1,000 year old virgin?” Peter deadpanned.
“100 years.” Steve corrected. “And yes. I am.”
“No he’s not.” Bucky said.
“I googled it. It was Steve’s old man way of saying putting some stank on it.” Sam read off his phone.
“Why haven’t you guys done it yet?” Natasha wondered. “It’s not like you just met. You’ve known her for years.”
“Yeah, but she’s only been my girlfriend for two months of those years. It’s a big transition. We’re waiting for the right moment.”
“So you’ve talked about it?” Steve asked him.
“Well, no.” Peter admitted. “I’m just assuming.”
“Assuming what exactly?” Natasha asked.
“That’s she’s waiting for the right moment to tell me she wants to do it. And then it’ll just happen then.” Peter shrugged.
“Hm.” Natasha said curtly. Peter noticed the look on everyone’s face and grew worried.
“What?” He laughed nervously.
“Nothing.” Steve shrugged and avoided eye contact.
“You can’t make that face and say “hm” and then not tell me.” Peter insisted.
“I think she’s ready.” Steve admitted. “I think she’s more than ready. You’re the one who’s not ready. That’s why you haven’t made a move yet.”
“She could’ve made a move.” Peter pointed out.
“No girl wants that.” Sam waved his hand. “They want their man to take charge and sweep them off their feet. You know, romance? Making her feel special?”
“She hates being lifted off her feet.” Peter insisted. “I picked her up once and she punched me in the throat and the bing bongs at the same time.”
“Hey, I taught her that move. I’m glad to see she’s using it.” Natasha smiled proudly.
“I have to agree with Sam on this one.” Steve said. “Girls like a romantic gesture. I’m not saying you have to literally sweep her off her feet, but make it clear that you want her. Or else she’s gonna start to feel under appreciated and unseen.”
“You guys don’t know what you’re talking about. We’re waiting and that’s okay.” Peter insisted.
“She’s waiting. For you. To make a God damn move already.” Sam replied.
“And you know what happens if you wait too long?”
“What happens?” Peter gulped.
“She’ll find someone who’s ready now.” Sam shrugged.
“Well what am I supposed to do? How do I make her feel special?”
“She was your best friend before your girlfriend right?” Bruce asked him.
“Yeah.”
“So she should be the person you’re most comfortable with. Just make a move. She’ll make a move in return. That’s how it works.” Bruce explained.
“Just like that?” Peter asked skeptically.
“Just like that.” Sam confirmed. By the point, you were back from the bathroom and sitting in a seat by yourself. Peter graced himself before going over to sit beside you.
“Hey.” Peter smiled at you.
“Hey Petey. What’s going on?” You smiled back.
“Nothing much. Just wanted to come sit by my lady.” He said and wrapped an arm around you.
“Aw. You’re so cute.” You smiled and leaned into him.
“You’re cute. Are these new?” He asked and tugged on the hem of your shorts.
“New to me.” You shrugged. “I stole them from Pepper.”
“I like them. They look good on you.” He said as he looked into your eyes. You smiled at the compliment and leaned in to kiss his cheek. Peter blushed and looked over his shoulder at Sam, who was nodding his head to give him the go ahead. Peter nodded back before returning his attention to you. He went to put his hand on your thigh, but since the action was unnatural to him, he ended up grabbing your thigh so quickly and harshly that you jumped.
“Oh my God. What was that?” You gasped and pushed his hand off.
“Sorry. There was a spider on your leg.” Peter quickly lied.
“And you killed it? Isn’t that like…cannibalism?” You asked him.
“No.” Peter chuckled. “Wait. Oh my God. Is it?”
“I don’t know.” You shrugged. “But thanks for killing it. I didn’t even feel it on my leg.”
“Hm. Weird.” Peter forced a laugh. He looked over at Sam again, who was shaking his head in disappointment.
“This is gonna be harder than I thought.” Peter thought to himself.
With Tony in the room right next store, Peter didn’t dare try anything while on the vacation. But once you returned to the tower a week later, it was game time.
“Peter? Are you in here?” You asked as you knocked on his bedroom door one day.
“One second, baby. I’m in the shower.” Peter called to you from the bathroom in his room.
“Okay. I’ll wait out here.” You shouted back and took a seat on his bed. Peter heard your response and thought back to what the team said about making a move. Before he could second guess himself, he called out again.
“You don’t have to do that. Why don’t you join me?”
“What? I can’t hear you over the water.” You said as you walked over to the bathroom door so he could hear you better.
“I didn’t say anything.” He lied when he felt he had failed.
“Oh. It sounded like you did.” You laughed and leaned against his bathroom door.
“That was just the sound of my shampoo bottle falling.” Peter lied.
“Oh. Okay.” You answered skeptically. You were about to go back to his bed when you heard a loud thud.
“Peter? What was that? Did you shampoo fall again?” You opened the door a little to ask him.
“No. My body did.” Peter groaned from the shower floor.
“Oh no. Are you okay?”
“Not really.” He winced. “I think I twisted my ankle.”
“Do you need help?”
“Yeah, but…” Peter began but trailed off.
“But what?” You asked.
“I’m nakey.” He said in a little voice.
“I’ll close my eyes, okay?” You laughed.
“You don’t have to. I just wanted to warn you that you’re about to see the biggest penis you’ve ever seen.” Peter said seriously, making you laugh again.
“Oh really? Is Thor in there?” You asked.
“That was hurtful.”
“You’re such an idiot. I’m coming in, okay? Hide your massive penis.” You warned as you entered the bathroom.
“I’ll try. But it won’t be easy.” Peter sighed. You opened the shower door with your elbow while covering your eyes with both hands.
“I’m here. Can you see me?” You asked him.
“Why would o not be able to see you? You’re the one with your eyes covered.”
“Oh. Right. Where are you?”
“The floor. Because I fell. That’s typically where people end up after they fall.”
“I should just leave you here to drown.” You said and turned to leave.
“Wait, come back. Please.” Peter whined. “They’ll never find a casket big enough to hold my massive schlong.”
“I hate you so much.” You laughed and came back. You bent down and helped him off the floor but grabbing his arm.
“Ah!” You screamed and dropped his arm.
“What?”
“You’re wet.” You grimaced.
“I’m in the shower.” He reminded you.
“I don’t know why but I wasn’t expecting you to be wet. Put my hand on the knob. I’ll turn it off.” You told him. Peter took your hand and guided it to the knob while you kept your eyes tightly shut. You heard the sound of the water turning off and Peter sighing in relief.
“There we go. Much better.” He said.
“Okay. I’m gonna pick you up now.” You told him and bent down to wrap your arms around his torso.
“Ah!” He screamed.
“What?”
“That tickles.” He sheepishly admitted.
“Oh my God.” You laughed. “Where’s your robe?”
“Hanging on the back of the door.” He told you. You kept your eyes shut but walked over to the door and felt around until you found his robe.
“Okay. I found it.”
“Throw it at me.” Peter said. You threw it outwards and it smacked him in the face. “You got it?”
“Yes. Ow.” Peter huffed as he put it on.
“Sorry.” You grimaced.
“Okay. You can open your eyes now.”
“Okay.” You said but didn’t open them.
“Baby. You open them.” Peter laughed.
“Sorry. I got scared.” You admitted as you opened your eyes.
“Of what?” Peter gulped, thinking you were scared to see him naked.
“Of seeing you on the shower floor and getting the biggest ick of my entire life.” You replied, making Peter laugh in relief.
“Fair enough.”
“Come on, little guy. I gotcha.” You bent down and helped him up with ease now that you could see.
“What did we say about calling me “little guy”?” Peter reminded you.
“That it’s funny and hilarious?” You asked innocently as you helped lead him out of the bathroom.
“Those are synonyms.”
“What about cinnamon?”
“What?”
“What?” You asked in reply. He shook his head endearingly as you walked him over to his bed.
“Okay. We’re here. Sit down.” You said and helped him into his bed.
“Well that was fun. And wet.” Peter said as he combed his wet hair out of his face with his fingers.
“You’re telling me.” You said and showed him your now soaking wet shirt.
“Sorry about that. You can grab a shirt from my closet.” He told you.
“Thanks.” You smiled at him before going over to his closet. You pulled out a T shirt and we’re about to put it on when you felt his eyes on you. You looked over your shoulder at him and he turned red.
“I’ll close my eyes.” Peter offered.
“It’s okay. You can watch. I don’t mind.” You smiled innocently at him before turning back around. Peter gulped as you pulled your shirt off and stayed perfectly silent. He could see your bra band when your hair moved and though it wasn’t much, it was as naked as he had ever seen you. You’d never been in so much as bathing suits around the other so this showing of skin was both unexpected but highly anticipated. Peter watched you pull his shirt over your head and fix your hair before turning back around.
“Better?” He asked in a soft voice.
“Better.” You nodded. He couldn’t help but wonder if you knew about the conversation he had had with the team. It wasn’t like you to get changed in front of him so maybe you weren’t trying to make a move as well.
“How’s your ankle feeling?” You asked as you sat on Peters bed.
“Not bad. I think it’s already healing.” He said and moved his robe to look at it.
“Good. You need it to climb walls and shoot webs out of your butt and stuff.”
“I have told you so many times.” Peter sighed. “The webs do not come out of my butt.”
“There is no doubt in my mind that you’re lying and just won’t show me. And that’s fine.” You shrugged.
“You’re ridiculous.” He laughed and took your hand.
“Yeah. Maybe a little.” You chuckled and played with his fingers. A comfortable silence filled the room as Peter started to form a plan in his head.
“So.” He laughed nervously. “Here we are. In my room. Alone.”
“I know. It’s nice.”
“You think so?” Peter asked hopefully.
“Yeah. It’s so rare we get time when no one else is around. It can finally just be the two of us.” You said and reached out to brush some hair off his forehead. Peter felt his whole face flush and scooted a little closer to you.
“I’ve actually been hoping we’d get some alone time.” He told you.
“Me too.” You smiled coyly and leaned in a little.
“Did you have anything in mind you want to do?” He asked and leaned in as well.
“I could think of a few things.” You flirted.
“Oh yeah? Like what?”
“For starters, you’ll have to lose this robe.” You said and ran your hand along the collar of his robe. Peter gulped as you got up and went back over to his closet.
“Done.” Peter nodded as he frantically started to undo the belt of his robe.
“And put this on.” You said as you tossed him some pajamas.
“Whatever you say, pretty girl. Wait, what? What’s this?” Peters smile fell when the pajamas fell into his lap.
“Pajamas. So you can get comfy and we can finally watch New Girl before it leaves Netflix.” You told him.
“Oh. Right. Pajamas. I’ll just put these on.” Peter tried to mask the disappointment in his voice as he tugged his shirt over his head. By the time you were snuggled into his side with your head on his shoulder, his disappointment was gone. He had gotten so caught up in what the team had said that he forgot to appreciate the little moments with you. He let it go for tonight and just enjoyed spending time together.
The next day, he was back on his bullshit. He found you in the kitchen with your back to him as you flipped through a magazine. Peter and wrapped his arms around you and placed a kiss on your shoulder to let you know he meant business.
“Hey you.” He said as he rested his chin on your shoulder.
“Hey Petey. What’s going on?” You smiled over your shoulder at him.
“Nothing. I just wanted to see you.”
“You’re so sweet lately. What’s gotten into you?”
“Nothing. I just really like you.” He replied and kissed your shoulder again. He decided to make a move and tilted his chin a little higher so he could kiss your neck.
“Fuck me.” You whispered as you flipped a page of your magazine. Peter immediately perked up and turned you around, thinking his plan had worked.
“What was that?” He gulped as his face burned bright red.
“Sorry. Paper cut.” You said and held up your bleeding finger. Peter took a split second to realized you were cursing, not requesting, before jumping into action.
“Here. Let me help.” He said and gently took your finger. He walked to the bathroom with you and turned on the faucet. He was about to put in under the water when he got a different idea. He looked you right in the eyes as he took your finger into his mouth and sucked the blood off of it. You watched him as he did this and gulped a little.
“Peter?” You asked in a soft voice. A hope sparked in Peter’s chest that he had successfully made a move.
“Yes?”
“Do you have any idea how many germs you just put in my open wound?” You said, making all Peters hope disappear.
“Oh. Sorry.” He shook his head in embarrassment and held your finger under the running water.
“Why did you turn the water on and then suck it instead?” You asked him. Peter thought about lying, but knew it was no use.
“I…I thought it would be sexy.” He admitted.
“You thought sucking my paper cut would be sexy? Okay, Edward.” You snorted as you got a bandaid out of the cabinet for yourself.
“Edward? Who’s that?” Peter felt a hot flash of jealousy over the mention of another boys name. He normally wouldn’t have that reaction, but he was extra sensitive after what Steve said about you finding someone else.
“The vampire from Twilight. Relax.” You laughed in surprise.
“Oh. Right.” He smiled in embarrassment.
“Peter Parker. Were you jealous at the mere drop of another boys name?” You playfully gasped.
“Is that bad?” Peter asked as he helped put a bandaid on your finger.
“I don’t think it’s bad.” You shrugged. “I think it’s kinda hot that you’re the jealous type. As long as you don’t get all possessive on me.”
“I won’t. I’ve seen enough white women with “love her but leave her wild” tattooed on them to know better.” Peter replied, making you laugh.
“Well that’s good to hear. And for what it’s worth, you’ve proven to be a lovely boyfriend so far. I’ve really enjoyed these past few months.”
“So have I.” Peter smiled softly. You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him into a kiss to let him know all was forgiven.
“So why were you trying to be sexy before?” You asked once you pulled away.
“I don’t know. I was just trying to make a move.” He sheepishly admitted.
“Make a move? Why would you need to do that?” You laughed. Peter could barely conceal the disappointment that he felt from your response. It seemed like the number one thing on his mind right now was the last thing on yours.
“Oh. I don’t know.” He faked a smile. You took his face in your hands and made him look at you.
“Petey, if you want me, just take me.” You said like it was obvious.
So he took you.
Peter wrapped an arm around your waist and lifted you with ease as he kissed you. You anchored your arms around his neck so that you wouldn’t slide off as he carried you to his room. Peter laid you down on his bed without ever breaking the kiss. Both of you could feel the electricity in the air and knew something big was about to happen. But before you could get too far, the door opened.
“Hey guys - stop screaming, it’s me.” Sam held up a hand when he was met with screams from you and Peter.
“We know it’s you. What do you want?” Peter groaned.
“Nothing. I’m just bored.” Sam shrugged and took a bite of his sandwich in his hand. You and Peter stared at him in disbelief of his inability to read a room while he noisily chewed his food.
“So what are you guys up to?” He asked and pointed between the two of you.
“Take a wild guess.” You said sarcastically.
“I would tell you what I think is happening.” Thor chuckled. “But I know that’s not the case since you two don’t-“
“Sam.” Peter cut him off.
“Did I say too much? Sorry. I’ll leave you alone.” Sam winked at Peter before leaving the room. The silence between you was uncomfortable as you struggled to know what to say.
“What was he about to say?” You asked an after a minute.
“I have no idea.” Peter lied. You looked at him and he knew he was caught.
“Don’t lie to me. Was he gonna say we don’t hook up?”
“Yeah. He was.” He admitted.
“You told him that?” You asked and got off his bed to put some distance between you.
“No. I would never.” He assured you. “It came up on the plane the other day. They were teasing me about you and it just kinda came out that we haven’t…you know.”
“Oh. Okay.” You nodded but didn’t seem fully convinced.
“I’m sorry. I know you like to be private.”
“It’s not your fault. I just worried that you had been complaining to them that we don’t…” You trailed off and Peter realized why you were upset.
“Honey. Never.” He assured you as he took your hand and gave it a squeeze. This seemed to ease your mind and you sat back down on his bed.
“Okay. Good.” You smiled in relief. Peter avoided looking at you as he rubbed his thumb over your knuckles.
“Does it bother you? That we haven’t done it yet?” He asked as a deep blush spread across his face.
“Well,-“ You began.
“Do you guys know the Hulu password?” Sam asked as he opened Peters door again.
“Get out!” Peter shouted and threw a pillow at him.
“I’m trying to watch Bridesmaids. Please.” Sam whined. “I’m desperate. They just added it back on there.”
“Oh my God.“ Peter groaned and rubbed his eyes, knowing the moment had lost.
“Go ask my dad or something.” You huffed.
“You guys suck. Not you, Y/n. Clearly.” Sam laughed at his own joke and left the room again. A awkward silence filled the room again and Peter felt like the worst person in the world. He knew it bothered you that he had told the team something personal and even worse, he could feel your disappointment in him.
“I’m gonna go.” You said to break the silence. You got off the bed and Peter felt you quickly slipping out of his hands.
“Wait! Don’t leave.” He pleaded.
“I have to go move my car.” You said hastily.
“Can we please talk about this?”
“I have to go move my car!” You exclaimed and swiftly left the room.
“I know you don’t have to do that!” He called after you. “We’ve watched New Girl together. I know you got that from Nick Miller.”
Peter let out a frustrated sigh and flopped on his bed. He wasn’t alone for long before Pepper and Thor knocked on his door.
“Hey, kiddo.” Pepper said kindly.
“Woah. Weird combo. Have you two ever interacted before?” Peter asked and pointed between the two of them. They looked at each other and shook their heads.
“No.” They said in unison.
“So what were you doing outside my door?”
“Not that we were listening to your entire conversation, but we were. And you guys need to talk about this.” Pepper said as she sat on Peters bed.
“We tried.” Peter sighed. “Sam kept interrupting.”
“But even before he interrupted, you weren’t really getting anywhere, were you?” Pepper asked kindly.
“What do you mean?”
“Neither of you could even say the word “sex”. How do you expect to do it if you can’t even say it?”
“I don’t know. I never thought about that.” Peter realized.
“You need to have a mature conversation with her about this. That’s the only way to know how she’s feeling and to let her know what you’re feeling.” Pepper said and patted Peters knee.
“Okay. I guess you’re right.”
“Or.” Thor began, getting Peter’s attention.
“Or? There’s another option?” Peter perked up.
“Yes. Here’s what you do. You seduce her. No words, only passion.”
“I’m listening.” Peter leaned in.
“You spray yourself with a sexy body spray. You put some sexy sheets on your bed. You lure her to your bedroom. You play a sexy song. You dim the lights because bad lighting is sexy. You light some sexy candles. You make the setting so irresistible that you won’t need words. She’ll know exactly what’s about to happen.” Thor told him.
“I think that’s a solid plan.” Peter nodded along.
“That’s a horrible plan.” Pepper exclaimed. “That is the dumbest plan I have ever heard. You clearly need to talk to her.”
“How sexy of a song are we talking here?” Peter ignored her.
“The sexiest. But don’t confuse that with raunchy. She’s not gonna get in the mood if she walks in to some degrading song. You need to pick the perfect playlist that does all the talking for you.” Thor told him.
“Or, you could do the talking for you.” Pepper suggested.
“No. I’m gonna go with Thors idea.” Peter decided.
“Huzzah!” Thor raised his arms in triumph.
“Huzzah? How come sometimes you soudn completly normal and sometimes you sound like a World of Warcraft character?” Peter asked him.
“I’m not familiar with this World of Warcraft. But if I had fought in it, I would’ve won.” Thor smiled proudly.
“Thanks for the advice guys. I know what im gonna do.”
The next day, the plan was in action. Peter found some red silk sheets from a box in Tony’s room labeled “my bachelor era” and put them on his bed. He doused himself with a cologne he borrowed from Bruce before taking off his shirt and rubbing baby oil all over his chest, leaving him in just his black boxers. He looked at himself in the mirror and flexed his muscles.
“Perfect.” He decided. Now it was time to lure you in, just like Thor told him.
“FRIDAY, play Careless Whisper. George Michael.” Peter requested.
“Playing Careless Whisper.” FRIDAY said and the song began to blast from the speakers.
“Thank you. Now dim the lights.”
“Dimming, sir.” FRIDAY complied.
“Time to lure.” Peter smiled wickedly. He pulled out his phone and tried to text you but his fingers were too slippery from the baby oil.
“Damn it. FRIDAY, text Y/n stark and tell her to meet me in my room. And say it’s urgent.”
“Texting Tony and Y/n Stark.” FRIDAY, replied, but the music was too loud for Peter to hear it.
“The trap is set. Now we wait.” Peter excitedly rubbed his hands together and turned around. It wasn’t long before he heard his door opening behind him.
“Peter? Are you in here?” He heard your voice and slowly turned around.
“Well hello - TONY?! I mean, Mr. Stark? What, uh, what are you doing here?” Peter laugh nervously and covered his crotch with his hands. You looked at his piled up body and boxers and slapped both hands over your mouth to stifle your laugh. Once you realized what song was playing, you had to turn around so your dad didn’t see you losing it.
“What am I doing here? What are you doing here? Are you covered in sunblock?” Tony asked him.
“No. It’s baby oil.” Peter sheepishly admitted.
“Was that supposed to make this less weird?” Tony asked out of the corner of his mouth.
“Why is he here?” Peter whined and looked at you.
“You texted both of us and said it was urgent. I thought you fell im the shower again.” You explained as you struggled to make eye contact because of how distracting his shiny abs were.
“Again? Peter, can’t you stick to walls? How did you fall in the shower?” Tony wondered.
“I slipped, okay? I’m only human. And a little bit spider.” Peter mumbled.
“Wait a second.” Tony held up a finger when he took in his surroundings.
“Sexy music.” Tony gasped and pointed to the speaker.
“Candles.” He gasped louder and pointed to the candles.
“Baby oil.” He gasped even louder and pointed to Peter. He then walked over to Peter’s dresser and let out the loudest gasp of all.
“Pack of extra small condoms?” He gasped and put his hand over his heart. He then looked at Peter with the rage of a thousand men. Peter looked at you, who looked like a mixture of surprise, embarrassment, and fondness.
“Um, it’s not what it looks like?” Peter said weakly. Tony threw the box of condoms at him and it stuck to Peters oiled chest.
“I knew it! You derelict. You ne’re-do-well. You scallawag. You were gonna try to sex my daughter, weren’t you?”
“Can that word be used in that way?” You wondered out loud.
“No. It’s not a verb. Your form was incorrect.” Peter told Tony, immediately regretting it.
“How’s this for form?” Tony asked and raised both his fists as if he was about to mollywhop Peter. You quickly stepped between them and held up a hand.
“Dad. Stop. You’re not gonna fight Peter. You’re obviously misreading things. There’s no way he brought me in here for that. Right, Peter?”
“Uhhh….” Peter trailed off and smiled weakly. Your jaw dropped for a second, but then you looked really pleased. Tony saw the look on your face and let out a loud, elongated groan.
“Goodbye. If you’ll excuse me, I have to go rinse my eyes out with drain cleaner.” Tony stared at you both in disgust as he walked out.
“Dad. You’re embarrassing me.” You whined.
“FRIDAY, add baby oil to the shopping list. Somebody used it all.” Tony called out as he left the room.
Once you were alone, you and Peter looked at each other and laughed in embarrassment.
“Did you really do all this for me?” You asked and rubbed his oiled up shoulder.
“I did. And it was incredibly stupid. I’m sorry.”
“Why did you do it then?”
“Because I wanted our first time to be special. You deserve special.” Peter sighed. You pouted and wrapped your arms around his neck to pull him closer.
“Aw, Peter.”
“I know. It was dumb.” He sighed.
“It wasn’t dumb. I think it was really sweet.” You assured him. “Just executed in a kind of terrifying way. The song is so loud that it’s rattling my bones and you look like uncooked chicken.”
“Yeah. This was Thors idea.” Peter laughed in embarrassment and looked down at his shiny body.
“Well it’s not the worst sight in the world.” You shrugged and ran your fingertips down his chest. Peter gulped and looked at you, feeling that electricity return.
“FRIDAY, stop playing the song.” You called out without ever taking your eyes off Peter. He got the hint and shot a web at the door to shut it before going to blow out the candles.
“Wait.” You held out your hand, stopping Peter.
“Leave the candles.” You told him.
“Okay. But why?”
“Well, it’s our first time, isn’t it?” You smiled coyly. “It should be special.”
Peter liked where your head was at but couldn’t go through with it without telling you the whole truth.
“They’re M&M scented candles that I stole from Morgans playroom.” He admitted. You stared at him for a long time before nodding your head.
“Peter?”
“Yeah?”
“Stop talking before I change my mind, okay?”
“Okay.” He nodded excitedly and pulled you into a kiss. You kissed him back and felt the same electricity that was coursing through his veins. Peter laid you down on his bed without breaking the kiss and you felt the red silk sheets he had put on under your skin.
“These sheets are a nice touch.” You flirted in between kisses.
“Only the best for you, baby. I took them from your dad.”
With the mention of your father, you immediately pushed Peter off and felt your entire body cringe. He had once again successfully ruined the moment.
“That’s it. I’m done.” You held uo your hands in defeat and left his room.
“Wait!” Peter called after you. “I cleaned them! I swear!”
Tag List 🏷️
@awesomebooklover17 @thebookwormlife @imanativeofswlondondahling @serendipitous-amor @tom-hollands-wifey
@whatareyouhidingpeter @takenbyheartstrings @ultrunning @imyourliquor-youremypoison @andreasworlsboring101
@letsloveimagines @peterparkoure @a-villain-vying-for-attention @justcallmehitgirl @jackiehollanderr @maryjanee23 @geeksareunique @emmamarshmellow
@unbelievableholland @flixndchill @sovereignparker @every-marveler-ever @undiadeestos @caelestii-e @eridanuswave​ ​ @fiantomartell @solarxmoonchild
@canyouevencauseicant @illwritetomorrow @thehappygrungelife @saysomethingspiderman @smilexcaptainx @quaksonhehe @kelieah
@seasidecrowbar @lovelessdagger @electraheart-3174 @unbelievableholland @yourtypicalhotmess @horanxholland
@thesuitelifeofafangirl @marshxx @heyheycharlatte @nooneinvitedfascistbarbie
@maybemona @alexxcorona113 @lethal-wisdom @xo-spidey
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bellawoso · 3 months
Text
How You Get The Girl
Alexia putellas x fem!reader
(Featuring Alexia in denial and Mapi’s devil antics)
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This was not how Alexia was expecting her weekend to go.
She was supposed to be having a weekend trip to Mallorca with her closest long-time friend, Jenni. As much as it pained Alexia to leave her 4 legged companion behind, she knew she would also have an even harder time leaving her at a hotel when her and Jenni went to some bars, as Jenni said ‘to find someone to spice up her life a bit’.
Mapi was definitely not her first choice on who to leave Nala with, however with most of the team using their break to travel back to their families, it left only Mapi and Ingrid to look after her Pomeranian.
However, after receiving a frantic phone call from Mapi, with the few words she managed to make out due to the defender’s worry laced voice being: Nala, Cake, Vets.
———————————————————————
Alexia rushed onto the next flight and was at the vets in around 2 hours, to find Mapi still in the waiting room clutching her beloved dog, and Alexia was quick to snatch Nala from her.
It took everything in Alexia’s power to not start cursing Mapi out for her carelessness, but as she gave in and threw a snide remark at the defender, it was interupted by the receptionist.
“Nala is ready to be seen”
Alexia rushed to the door with Nala in her arms, and Mapi trailing behind. They were shown into the room, and Alexia walked straight into someone quite a bit shorter than her, this combined with the fact she is a professional footballer who keeps on top of her strength training resulted in her basically knocking this person over.
“¡Lo siento, lo siento!”, She said whilst keeping her eyes on Nala to check she wasnt hurt even more by her collision.
As Alexia looked up at the person she had crashed into, she was met with arguably the most beautiful women she had ever seen. Only to be met with a shove from her best friend, was when Alexia realised she had been staring.
“Alexia stop ogling the poor woman and apologise”
“I did!” countered the midfielder.
“Maybe in English would be smarter? So that she actually understands you!”
At the realisation that you had absolutely no idea what ‘lo siento’ meant, Alexia’s cheeks flushed crimson red, which recieved one of Mapi’s infamous snorts of laughter behind her.
Alexia honestly had no idea what was happening to her. She knows that your pretty, but she had seen other pretty girls before, why did you make her feel like this?
“Hello, I will be Nala’s vet for today, i will just go grab her records from reception, wont be a minute!” you said with a soft smile.
As soon as the door clicked shut behind you, Mapi burst iut laughing.
“Ale, as much as i love you, you were embarrassing there! If this is how you act around girls, no wonder you have never had a serious relationship”
“Shut up! I am not attracted to her, she makes me feel like i want to throw up!”
“Honey, thats called butterflies in your stomach! pretty cliché if you ask me, but I didnt realise you were such a romantic!” Mapi retorted, still laughing.
“I’m not a romantic. I’m not into her. I just want her to treat my dog, and then i can go play football after”
“Wait until i tell the team about this! The scary la reina, reduced to a blushing mess by a cute vet who she body slammed and then spent a minute ogling her, all because she has a little crush”
Before Alexia could respond with a threat of using her captain title to punish Mapi with tunning laps, the door clicked open to reveal you rushing back in.
Nala, who usually was very timid and barked at anyone who got near her, immediately jumped off of Alexia’s lap and ran straight up to you and jumped at your legs, to which you responded by picking her up and gushing over the cute little ball of fluff.
Alexia knew that if she wasnt already sat down her knees would have buckled at the sight of her dog basically confirming the fact that you were perfect for her. As Alexia contined to daydream about you, she was interupted by a hand clicking in her face, to which she turned to glare at Mapi’s toothy grin.
“Te distrajiste, el lindo vert estaba tratando de preguntarte sobre Nala. (You zoned out, the cute vet was trying to ask you about Nala)” Mapi said with a knowing smirk.
“¡Callarse la boca! y deja de llamarla linda. (Shut up! and stop calling her cute”
“¿Celosa? (jealous?)”
“Nunca. (never)”
However, when the two spaniards turned to face you, they were met by your dumbfounded face trying to decipher a word of what they just said. Although you had been taking Spanish classes since you moved to Spain, both Alexia and Mapi spoke the languge with too heavy of an accent and too fast for you to understand.
“So you filled out your form saying Nala ate a full chocolate cake?” You asked.
“¡Si! Yes! Will she be okay?” Alexia responded worriedly.
“Honestly this happens a lot, and there is no point her having ang unnecessary procedures, so we usually reccomend her take these tablets twice a day for a week and if you notice any unusual behaviour, bring her back here. I will write you a prescription for it now!”
“Ah okay thankyou, do I scedule an appointment for after she finishes the pills for a checkup?”
“No, the pills are enough, no checkup” You say with a smile.
As Alexia now realised that she would probably not see you again for a while, she slumped back in her seat and a new frown sat predominantly on her face.
Upon Mapi seeing this, she immediately felt an impulsive urge to assist one of her closest friends in her crush dilemma situation.
So Mapi did what she did best.
“My friend thinks your hot and wants your number now”
At hearing this you blushed bright red and Alexia smacked Mapi round the head.
“Excuse my friend! She can be very blunt… and stupid” Alexia said as Mapi emits an offended gasp, “As I would have politely asked you at the end, could I please have your number, as I think your very beautiful”
You are still sat there in absolute shock, you knew who these two people were, Alexia Putellas and Mapi Leon. Two world famous Spanish and Barcelona football players, you couldn’t help but wonder what the two time balon d’or winner wanted with your number.
Unfortunately, Alexia mistook your shock for rejection.
“I’m sorry, I have made it awkward, it’s okay that you dont feel comfortable giving me your number” Alexia suddenly stood up to leave, and pulled Mapi up with her “Thankyou for your help, goodbye”
The spaniard quickly took the prescription from your desk and rushed out with Nala in her arms, and urging Mapi to follow her, who felt slightly bad for embarrassing her friend like that.
———————————————————————
Alexia quicky rushed back down the corridor to the receptionist desk, wanting to get Nala’s prescription, and get out of the stupid vets as soon as possible, probably as she knew to return to her house and cry at the embarrassment she had suffered today.
The midfielder was about to hand over the prescription to the receptionist, but Mapi’s eyes caught a glimpse of something on the back of the paper.
“Alexia stop!”
Alexia turned to glare at the defender, “What now?” She said followed by an exasperated sigh.
“The paper!”
At this, Alexia turned over the paper, and couldn’t stop the smile tugging at her lips, as there was your number hastily scribbled down with a note: -call me
As she noted down the number into her contacts, she realised, she hadn’t even asked for your name.
Alexia turned to the receptionist, and asked, “Who was the vet that just saw us?”
“Y/n, she’s sweet, just moved here from London recently!”
“Thankyou” Alexia replied, as the receptionist grabbed the pills, Alexia put down your name into her contacts and sent you a quick message.
- Hey! It’s Alexia, from the clinic, I wasn’t lying when i told you i thought you were beautiful and I would love to take you on a date sometime?
794 notes · View notes
81folklore · 7 months
Text
dress - SV5 - part 2
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pairings: sebastian vettel x famous!reader (fc: taylor swift)
summary: its known that seb has been married for a few years now despite the public never seeing is wife, its also known that yn is in a committed relationship and has been since she disappeared from public eye. maybe they are more connected than people realise
authors note: part two because i didnt realise how long it had gotten but im allergic to actually writing.. also i apologize for the first part literally just being build-up.. i honestly didnt know about the 30 pic limit so...
authors note 2: i used google translate for the german so i hope its correct, also i dont know if petnames like darling or sunshine are used in germany but i had to use them
authors note 3: i actually hate how this turned out :/ but it was very hard to actually get my thoughts onto the page so this will do! this is part 2 so go read part 1 first!!
part 1 part 3 masterlist
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ynupdates
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liked by user5, user77, olliebearman and 45,920 others
YN IN THE F1 PADDOCK TODAY, I REPEAT YN IN THE PADDOCK
view comments
user77: sorry i dont follow f1, i thought the races were on sundays?
user5: dont be sorry! today is qualifying and tomorrow is the race!
user5: SHES THERE I CANT STAY CALM
user91: does anyone know who she was with in those photos of her by the track?
user5: sebastian vettel and mick schumacher!
user6: SHE WAS WATCHING QUALIFYING WITH SEB AND MICK?? SEB VETTEL?? AND MICK SCHUMACHER?? OH LORDDD
user12: i thought i would survive.. i lied
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ynupdates
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liked by user5, user20, user99 and 101,782 others
seems like yn is with redbull at todays race looking as gorgous as ever!
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user5: OH OH OH OH
user5: SHE IS STUNING HOLY
user20: her style recently has been AMAZING
user68: out of every team i think redbull would have been one of my last guesses
user6: THE WAY SHE IS WITH REDBULL AND SPENT QUALIFYING WITH REDBULLS GOLDEN BOY OH I FEEL SICK
user99: i love her so much
user42: at least her team will win
user591: IS SHE WEARING A WEDDING RING??
user618: i think so?? honestly i wouldnt be surprised shes very private and has been with her partner for almost 8 years so no wonder he popped the question
user90: i need her to be at every gp
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ynupdates
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liked by charles_leclerc, user55, user81 and 234,891 others
yn on stage performing dress during the post-race concert at suzuka! as far as we know it was a complete surprise, she came on to sing dress then left. this is her second time performing it to a live audience!
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user81: WHEN IS IT MY TURN TO HEAR DRESS LIVE
user5: charles and seb were both spotted watching her from the side of the stage!
user81: charles taking seb to see his favorite artist..what if i cried
user55: i cant believe i lost dress twice without even knowing i could lose it😭
user8: i hope she had so much fun, ive missed her doing stuff like this :’)
user12: apparently she was laughing and looking off stage at someone throughout, possibly her partner?
user1: SHE AWLAYS LOOKS SO GOOD
user13: so much content this weekend..im going to have major withdrawls
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yourusername
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liked by sebastianvettel, mickschumacher and 13,712,847 others
four years ago i was given the pleasure of marrying my best friend
i am unable to really put into words how much meeting you and getting to spend the rest of my life with you has changed my life seb, but i tell you i love you enough daily that i hope you understand
when we first met i had no idea how much you would impact me and the way i think, but you have helped me become the woman i am today and i am forever grateful for that
i often feel unworthy of the life you have given me, the life we have together. i wonder how i got to be the one you love and cherish and i know how lucky i am to be the one you spend your life with
you gave me your heart and i promise to look after it for as long as im here, i promise to keep it safe and i know you will look after mine
danke, dass du mich liebst, danke, dass du dich um mich kümmerst. (thank you for loving me, thank you for taking care of me) Ich verspreche, dich bis zu meinem letzten Atemzug zu lieben. (I promise to love you until my last breath) Ich werde nie aufhören, dich zu lieben, Mein Sonnenschein. (I will never stop loving you, my sunshine)
tagged: sebastianvettel
comments on this post have been limited
sebastianvettel: Danke, dass du dein Herz geöffnet hast und mich dich lieben lässt, mein Schatz (Thank you for opening your heart and letting me love you, my darling)
sebastianvettel
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liked by yourusername, lewishamilton and 8,728,712 others
I won the most important race. It was the race into the heart of the love of my life, yn. I love you.
view comments
yourusername: 🩵🩵🩵
user5: I CANT DO THIS STOP
user12: hes so sweet :(
user18: ive known about them for a total of 2 minutes but i love them already🫡
user6: dress was written about him…
user71: i feel ill wehn will i get posted like this
sebastianvettel
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liked by charles_leclerc, yourusername, landonorris and 10,120,859 others
the sunshine of my life
view comments
yourusername: i love you so much
lewishamilton: very happy for you mate!
user13: THEY LOVE EACHOTHER SO MUCH OH MY GOD😭😭
landonorris: 🥹🥹
user82: DRESS WAS WRITTEN BY HER FOR HIM AND HE WAS PROUD OF IT OH LORD
user5: literally my favorite people in the entire universe🫶
user19: still in shock that theyve been married for four years
2K notes · View notes
star-girl69 · 4 months
Text
New Romantics
Clarisse La Rue x Fem!AphroditeCabin!Reader
—-
sypnosis: you and clarisse meet during a capture the flag game, In A Good Way prequel!!
a/n: IM SO GLAD EVERYONE LIKES MY CLARISSE FIC ☹️☹️☹️☹️ i have so many planned but i just wanted to say thank you all sm!!!! this one is so silly….. i hope you all enjoy!!
LMK IF YOU WANNA BE ON MY CLARISSE TAGLIST!!!!!!
New Romantics - Taylor Swift
warnings: violence, swearing, mentions of death and blood, insane clarisse bc she gets a LITTLE too into capture the flag, protective clarisse obvi i will never write a fic without her showing up, clarisse makes me SWOON if you couldn’t tell, not proofread we get turned into pine trees like thalia over here, tell me if i missed anything!!
—-
Your legs ache. You’ve been at Camp Half Blood all your life, but you just spent the entire school year doing absolutely nothing. It was an adjustment. You’re already being forced into the horrible tradition of capture the flag. You met up with your favorite and best friends Jackie and Tyla at the beginning of summer, and you’ve all been attached to the hip ever since.
The three of you thought you could escape to a random part of the woods and skip out.
It’s not like you were lazy, or couldn’t hold your own in a fight- but you had just taken turns doing each others nails yesterday, and it would be such a shame to see them all smudged and broken.
You were on the red team, so you watched as the incomparable Clarisse La Rue ran around instructing everyone what to do- completely skipping past the three of you. Jackie took it to heart, complaining about how she had lasted two minutes sparring with Clarisse once, and she had no right to label all Aphrodite kids as weak and useless.
You remember the night you finally made it to the crest of camp, blood staining your hands, your satyr protector dead on the ground behind you as some monster you didn’t know the name of chased after you.
The three of you thought maybe a nice walk at the edge of the woods would be nice, when suddenly a squadron of the blue team came running out trying to catch you as prisoners. It wasn’t a rule of the game, but it was generally expected that that the winner had more prisoners, or else the victory just didn’t seem right.
The blue team saw Aphrodite kids as easy targets to pick off.
This felt all too familiar to that stormy light, your pounding heart, looking around as everything crashed around you. One of them even jumped down from the freaking trees, and you screamed at the top of your lungs as all three of you sprinted off into different directions.
There was only one chasing behind you, a Hermes kid you didn’t know the name of, but he was fast on your tail.
Just as you had reached the crest of the hill, you screeched at the top of your lungs as you saw four figures in front of you. A satyr. Two girls. One boy.
“Not another one,” the stayr moaned, before beckoning you towards them. You stayed frozen in place. The monster was big and slow, but you could hear it approach.
The boy held out his hand.
“I promise,” he breathed, locking eyes with the smaller girl, maybe a year or two younger than you, before looking up at the older girl. You could tell she was battle hardened, she was ready to win this. “We’ll all make it to camp.”
Both monsters chasing you let out ear-piercing roars, and you quickly slapped your hand into his and sprinted away.
Thalia, you would later learn her name, didn’t survive that night. But you did. Luke did. Annabeth did.
The three of you will forever be bonded by that, even if you’re on different teams in capture the flag. Gods, you wish it was Luke chasing you right now- but it’s not.
You’ve forgotten everything about swords and fighting in exchange for the Russian Revolution and the Periodic Table. You hate school even more in this moment.
He reaches out towards you and you’re distracted by his hand touching your shoulder, heart pounding in your ears, and you trip right over a root and stumble before falling to the ground.
You faintly see the flash of bronze armor pass you, then you suddenly hear a body slam into the ground. You whip around, only to find a girl wearing a red-tipped helmet on top of the boy chasing you.
“Clarisse!” she shouts. “I got him!”
You breathe heavily, watching at the boy yells and tries to buck her off of him, but you faintly remember seeing her constantly around Clarisse. She must be another Ares kid, which means there’s no way she’s letting this Hermes kid gets away.
Clarisse saunters out of the woods on your left, looking between you and the boy on the ground.
You sit up on your hands, watching it all play out, not able to catch your breath.
She smiles, slow, like a cheshire cat.
Gods, why does she have to look like that? Why does she have to smile like that? Why does she have to make you feel this way?
Why doesn’t she just drop the spear and make out with you?
“So, this is the dummy who thinks it’s funny to chase around Aphrodite kids,” she says, slowing walking turns him. The girl holds up his head so he has to look at Clarisse. She places the end of her spear into the dirt. She leans down in front of him. “Well, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but the Aphrodite cabin is on the red team, right? Right?”
The girl tugs his head up and he winces, but nods.
“And who captains the red team? Cause I think it’s me, isn’t it?”
He’s learned his lesson. He nods quickly, now.
“I’m feeling nice today. Why don’t you apologize to the pretty girl, and maybe I won’t kill you.”
His eyes lock with yours. He says nothing.
“I said apologize, dumbass.”
He glares at Clarisse.
“You’re fucking insane.”
She laughs a bit. “It’s capture the flag, Zander, why are you not getting a little crazy? Chasing after Aphrodite kids is just embarrassing, honestly.”
“Fine,” he spits. “Fucking fine. I’m sorry.”
“Was that so hard?” she coos. She nods, and the girl let’s him go.
Holy Hades if that wasn’t the hottest thing you’ve ever seen.
He runs straight off into the woods after a moment, when he realizes they’re not gonna chase after him, not now at least.
The other girl turns to you. “You ok?”
“Yeah, yeah,” you dust off your knees. “There’s more of them by the edge, just so you know. Just north of the river.”
The girl smiles. “Gods, yes. Fuckin’ love destroying the Hermes cabin.”
Clarisse turns to you. She tilts her head to the side, watching you breath heavily on the ground. She sticks out your hand. Your grab it quick, scared she might pull away, and her hand is so warm and fits perfectly with yours. She pulls you up and you dust off your knees.
The other girl takes off running, following the boy, yelling for Clarisse to hurry up.
She smiles a bit, and you swear to Zeus her cheeks are a little flushed, you swear she looks at your lips for a second.
She brushes her thumb across her cheek.
“You’ve got some dirt on your face, gorgeous.”
She runs off before you can say anything, electrical spear crackling to life.
Oh, you fucking love capture the flag.
—-
clarisse “you’ve got some dirt on your face, gorgeous” la rue the woman you are
—-
1K notes · View notes
everswift · 1 year
Text
sometimes i think about how after her first record came out taylor swift would open for big country musicians and stay till the middle of the night in the venues to say hi and give autographs to anyone who wanted to meet her. sometimes i think about taylor swift on her first headlining tour looking out for kids in her merch, literally stopping her car to greet them. sometimes i think about how a kid met her at a grocery store but had no camera so taylor took a picture of them herself and then mailed it to her. sometimes i think about how she never held a paid meet and greet in her entire career. sometimes i think about how in the macy's meet and greet when wonderstruck came out a little kid got too nervous to go up to her in the little stage that was set up for taking pictures so taylor came down to say hi. sometimes i think about taylor swift being understandably uncomfortable about people waiting outside her home to meet her but being kind and taking pictures when there's small children because they're not responsible for their parents' invasion of privacy. sometimes i think about taylor swift telling “shut up” and standing up to her security team to say hello to fans
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coconut-dreamz · 4 months
Text
delicate
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"is it chill that you're in my head?" || tom blyth x famous! reader
a/n: it's my first time writing for tom blyth and i've been obsessed with him and taylor swift songs lately so i wrote this! i hope you enjoy ! slightly angsty, ambiguous relationship between reader and tom
my reputation's never been worse
so you must like me for me
ever since the news came out that you and your a-list celeb ex broke up, negative comments filled your comment sections. all you wanted to do was turn them off, but your pr team was vehemently against it. they wanted it to seem like you didn't care about the criticisms, you didn't, but it was getting out of hand now. 
there were rumors on those stupid gossip sites that you had cheated on him and that it was what caused the downfall of you two. that couldn't be further from the truth, but he and his pr team decided to not comment on it and therefore your management team decided that it would look like you were just trying to cover your ass by denying the accusations. 
but, just when you were in the deep of it, you met tom. he didn't care about what people were saying about you. you had met at a mutual friend's new years party. he hadn't even heard about the rumors about you until you mentioned it. he was a breath of fresh air. 
dive bar on the east side, where you at?
phone lights up my nightstand in the black
you had moved to new york recently to escape the toxicity that plagued your every move in la. you didn't have many friends there, all of them left behind in la. tom had taken it upon himself to show you the best spots in town. 
you were wallowing in self pity, watching dumb rom-coms on a random tuesday evening when your phone lights up on your nightstand. you pause your film and move to pick up the phone. it was tom, asking if you were busy. you quickly reply with a no. he invites you out to a nearby dive bar with him and some of his friends. 
you were hesitant at first, feeling comfortable in your bed. but, tom managed to convince you to  come out. you quickly throw on a pair of jeans and a nice shirt, hailing a cab and heading to the bar in question.
the moment you walk into the bar, tom shouts your name, waving you over to him and his group of friends. "i'm so glad you could make it! this is rachel and josh, they're my costars for my most recent project." 
is it cool that i said all that?
is it chill that you're in my head?
you laugh at tom's ridiculous dancing, you were on facetime as he was on set for tbosas and you were still back in new york. you keep laughing at his antics, shouting out "oh my god, i love you!" you immediately throw your hands over your mouth, eyes widened. did you seriously just say that? "oh my god! you didn't just hear that!" you shout at tom, your face flushed a bright red. you immediately hung up, too embarrassed to face his reaction yet. 
you couldn't lie, tom was always on your mind. you didn't want to admit it, but you were falling for the brit. your thoughts constantly led to him. you could be thinking about tuna and you would somehow end up on tom. 
your phone starting ringing, shortly after you hung up. it was tom. you realized you had to face him either way and answered the call. "i love you too," he admits once the call connects. any shred of embarrassment left your body hearing that. a smile graced your face and a newfound warmth filled your body.
third floor on the west side , me and you
handsome you're a mansion with a view
do the girls back home touch you like i do?
you had originally gotten a rinky dinky apartment when you first moved out here, not expecting to stay long. but the new friends you made helped you fall in love with new york. so, you decided to get a new apartment. this time, on the upper west side. tom was kind enough to help you move from your first apartment to the new one.
after a long day of rearranging the new furniture you had gotten, you and tom were laying on the floor of your living room. he sat up and stared out the window of your new apartment, the view was a lot better compared to your previous one, which was just a brick wall. as he admired the city lights, you admired him. 
you move to hug his back as the two of you enjoy the view of the city below you. the two of you didn't have a label. sure, you told each other that you loved each other, went on dates and even double dates, but you had never called him your boyfriend and you, his girlfriend. you wondered what was stopping either of you from taking the next step and making it official.
was he this way with the girls back home? were you different from the british girls from his past? thoughts of self doubt plagued your mind. "what's on your mind, beautiful?" tom's voice breaks you out of your reverie. "huh? oh, nothing." you try to avoid the reality. "don't lie, i can tell something's bothering you." 
you sigh, taking a breath, "do the girls back home touch you like i do?" you ask him. he's confused at first, "my home's here, with you." and those five little words were able to dispel all your thoughts of self doubt and insecurities. you simply kiss him in content at his words of reassurance. 
it didn't matter if you two didn't have a label yet, you were his home, and he was yours.
long night with your hands up in my hair
echoes of your footsteps on the stairs
stay here, honey, i don't wanna share
after a long night of bar hopping, you two stumble into your apartment. too tired to even take off your street clothes, you both collapse on the bed, quickly falling asleep. it's around 6 am you stir awake. you can hear tom walking up the stairs to your room. "are you leaving?" you ask as he enters the bedroom. "yeah, i have a shoot in a couple hours." he searches around for his missing sock. 
you frown, hearing this. "come back, just for a few minutes." you plead. you weren't ready to let him go yet. to share him with the rest of the world. right now he was just yours, and you wanted it to stay that way. "fine, but only for a little," he agrees, abandoning his search for his missing sock. and instead climbs back in bed into your open arms.
sometimes i wonder, when you sleep
are you ever dreaming of me?
it was another night where tom slept over in your apartment after a night out on the town. you couldn't fall asleep, instead staring at tom's peaceful face as he slept. he had a small smile on his face as he slept. you wonder what he's dreaming about. you hope that it's you and if it wasn't, you didn't want to know. you snuggle in closer to his warm body and decide to try to fall alseep.
sometimes when i look into your eyes
i pretend you're mine all the damn time
you were at your friend's new years party, it had been a whole year since you had met tom. the two of you were dancing wildly to the music playing, tipsy off the champagne. as you stared up into his eyes, you envisioned a future together where you didn't have to question your relationship status with him. 
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evermoreal · 4 months
Text
it always leads to you ࿐
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pairing: simon riley x reader
genre: dad’s best friend au, fluff, smut, a touch of angst
cw: smut - this is 18+ minors dni, age gap (ghost is in his 40s, reader is in her 20s), fem!reader, reader is implied to be shorter than ghost, unprotected sex (bad idea!!!!!), praise kink (excessive use of ‘good girl’), oral (m & f receiving), face-fucking (he’s gentle abt it), ummmm a man that is Not ghost makes unwanted sexual advances, small mention of blood (someone gets a cut on their forehead). please lmk if i missed anything !!!!!!
summary: coming home for the holidays is both a blessing and a curse — cheesy music, bittersweet nostalgia, and simon riley, your father’s best friend and the man you’ve had a stupidly big crush on for years.
author’s note: hiii!! um a Few things . firstly, i seldom write smut & when i do i never post it. i have put off posting this for so long bc i was so nervous — it was originally meant to be a christmas gift to u guys 😭😭 n e ways we Prevail. also i despite being Obsessed w him i’ve never written for ghost !!!! i want to do soo much more for him & the other cod men, so if u have any reqs/ideas, my asks are always open !!! love u guys soooooo much i hope i enjoy ! 💋💋
word count: 11k (sorry 😭)
credits: title is from tis the damn season by taylor swift, and the beauuuutifullll render/edit of ghost is by user dwisesz on twitter!
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before you met him, you’d heard endless stories. for as long as you could remember, your father recounted tales of his friend ‘ghost’ from the army. every time he came back from deployment, there’d be something new — ghost’s snipe from 2,700 meters away, ghost making your dad laugh so hard beer came out of his nose, ghost making a new recruit cry simply by staring at them.
there were others, of course, too; gaz, who your father had quite the soft spot for; john, who quickly became your favourite when you met him a few years ago and he snuck you a sip of wine at dinner; soap, who was new to the team but had enough passion to carry an entire army on his back.
ghost, though — he was your dad’s favourite. though he claimed to be too honourable for favourites, the way your father spoke about him made it clear. a simultaneous respect and affection woven through every recounted story.
it was a shock you didn’t meet him until your freshman year of college. your father and ghost’s leave fell around the same time, and your father had invited him to stay with your family. your father never revealed much about ghost’s history, but you knew it was dark and splattered with blood. he was alone now, and though he claimed he preferred it that way, he’d accepted your father’s invitation.
from your bedroom, you’d heard the front door creak open, and without so much as a breath you were bounding down the stairs, bare feet smacking against the hardwood. your father was in the midst of putting down his bags when you threw your arms around him. “dad!”
he reciprocated immediately, pulling you tightly against him. “hi, honey. i missed you.”
as you pulled back, he patted your head, and you spotted a shadow along the floor. following it toward the still-open door, you found a broad, menacing figure, blocking most of the sunlight. he was nearly as wide as the doorway, and the top of his head just barely made it under the threshold. over his face was hidden by a black balaclava with the faint impression of a skull along the front, faded with age and use. despite the endless stories, you were immediately intimidated, and stepped closer to your father.
your dad squeezed your arm, chuckling. “lieutenant, this is my daughter.”
looking between the two of you, simon took a slow step forward, and extended his hand. his movements were careful, like you were a wild animal he didn’t want to spook.
hesitating briefly, you slipped your hand into his. the warmth of ghost’s hand bled through the gloves he wore as he squeezed yours once. “nice to meet you, sweetheart.”
“it’s nice to meet you, um, mr ghost.” you had to crane your neck to look him in the eye.
a low, raspy chuckle rumbled from his chest, and beneath the balaclava, his eyes creased into tiny half-moons. “just simon is fine, love.”
and, really, he didn’t even give you a chance. there was no warning, no preamble. in an instant, fear ignited into something far more dangerous — attraction.
with a warm stomach, you smiled, and tried your hardest to keep it from growing too wide. “right. um. simon. yes.” you bit your cheek. “i’ve heard a lot about you.”
finally releasing your hand, he murmured, “terrible things, i assume.” his wink was quick and cheeky and certainly wasn’t meant to release a swarm of butterflies in your stomach, and yet . . .
“mostly,” you joked, and beside you, your father laughed. it was a rude awakening — ice water splashed over your silly little daydream. this man was only a few years younger than your father — in no universe would he give you a chance, and in no world should you want him to.
as quickly and as unassumingly as you could, you excused yourself, claiming you were in the middle of packing — which was mostly true. you were due on campus in less than two weeks, and if you didn’t start now, you’d leave it until the night before and end up forgetting something.
initially, you’d dreaded spending two weeks under the same roof as simon. it was a surefire plan to end up embarrassing yourself, because you’d never really been able to act normally around a crush, especially one in the shape of a 6-foot-whatever behemoth. yet, as the days went on, that dread steadily began to lift. despite your school girl crush, simon was easy to talk to. a lot of the time he was quiet, but his eyes never wavered from you, listening intently and humming where it mattered. he was fun, too — he recommended good movies, took you shopping while your father ran errands, taught you the best places to hit a man if one attacked you.
(a picture of simon, dramatically curled up in pain after you’d accidentally kicked him in the balls during a lesson now sits in your phone’s ‘favourites’ folder).
two weeks went by far too quickly, and before you knew it, your dad and simon were lugging your belongings up and into your dorm. not a single bag was left for you — you were tasked with the important duty of telling them what went where. when all was said and done, simon handed you a tiny piece of paper with a ten-digit number scrawled messily across it.
“in case you ever need me,” he explained, warm brown eyes peering at you beneath terribly long lashes. “i know your dad’s always there, but — just in case.”
then, he’d patted your head and squeezed your shoulder, murmuring a, “good luck, kid.”
and, though he was lovely to look at and talk with and exist around, you knew it would never be anything more. no matter how desperately a silly little part of you wished it. he spent time with you because he didn’t have anyone else. never had a daughter or a niece to spoil or playfight with. it was endearing, the way he interacted with you. wholesome and innocent and if that was all you’d ever get, you’d be happy.
— ∘♡༉∘ —
college was a lot. it was simultaneously the best and worst time of your life, passing by at both a snail’s and bullet’s pace. somehow, you ended up halfway through your final year. the holidays had rolled around, leaving you on a train, weaving over the tracks as you made your way back home.
in the years you’d been away, you’d kept in contact with simon. he joined your family for every holiday, and beyond that, you texted him often. sent him photos of your proudest grades, spirit days, or yummy meals. he’d even occasionally text you first, asking how your classes were going, if it was raining there like it was here, if you got home safe on the nights he knew you went out.
the landlord he’d rented his shitty apartment from ended up selling the place and simon had to relocate, finding a place only a few minutes from your dad’s. they loved to bug you, now — sending selfies and videos. to occupy themselves on their offtime, they’d opened a car repair shop together, and it only got worse.
you weren’t supposed to be home until tomorrow, but you were feeling homesick and your bags were already packed. before long, you were stepping out of a taxi, bags in hand, and ambling up to the shop.
the reception area was tiny, sweetly decorated for the holidays and playing some generic christmas station. leaning against the desk was soap, slyly flirting with the blushing woman behind it.
his eyes lit up upon seeing you. “the fuck’re you doin’ ‘ere, lass?” he questioned far too loudly. immediately, you shushed him, and he caught on. “ooh, i love surprises. they’re back in the garage, workin’ away. y’want me t’film it?”
giggling, you shook your head, accepting the quick side hug he gave you. when you slipped through the garage door — opening it bit by bit, never too quickly lest it creak, soap returned to the customer.
the garage was stocked with cars in disrepair and various parts you couldn’t name if your life depended on it. the stench of motor oil, cigar smoke, and antifreeze stung your nose as you made your way over, where simon was wheeled beneath a car, thick thighs flexed inside oil-stained jeans. your father was turned away from you, bent over a shoddy metal table table and observing an array of papers. an ancient radio sat next to them, croaking out a rock song from your childhood.
“one of these days, i’m gonna teach you to use spotify,” you called, voice bouncing off the cement walls and ceiling.
a bang proceeded your words, and in the same instant, your father turned around, exclaiming your name and wrapping you in the world’s tightest bear-hug.
“we were supposed to pick you up tomorrow!” he said, voice muffled to your ears beneath the suffocating squeeze of his arms.
“figured i’d surprise you,” you supplied, stepping back from his grasp once it loosened. immediately after, you were enveloped by simon, who stunk of grease, cheap cologne, and tobacco. you inhaled; it was lovely.
“my favourite college student,” he murmured into the top of your head. “how y’been, trouble?”
when you pulled away, a dark splotch caught your eye. a small but growing patch of blood stained the top of his balaclava, turning the black fabric a murky shade of brown.
“shit! you’re bleeding!” you yelped, stepping away from him and searching your surroundings — there wasn’t much for medical supplies in a garage.
beside you, your dad was laughing; a deep, wheezy sound. “did y’hit your head?”
simon grunted, shooting you a playful glare. “if college doesn’t work out, kid, y’ve got an easy spot on the one-four-one. you’re quiet as a mouse. scared the shit outta me.”
despite yourself, you snorted. “i’ll keep that in mind. d’you guys have any bandaids?”
“there’s some in the office. bottom drawer of my desk,” your father replied, voice tinged with amusement.
“thank you, dad. simon, come. i took a first-aid course in high school.”
obediently, simon followed, keeping just a step behind as you moved through the garage. from his table, john called, “we’re going out for dinner tonight, don’t make plans!”
“sir yes sir!”
simon and your father’s office was a small room just off the garage. carpeted, with off-white walls and dusty blinds letting in yellowish rays of sunlight. dusty photos hung from the wall; a few of you and your father; the 141; a german shepherd simon adored.
moving to the desk, you bent over and dug through the mountain of junk in the bottom drawer. the box of bandaids was shoved into the corner, bent and creased. simon copied your movements, rounding the desk and sitting on the worn desk chair.
“d’you know if you have anything to clean it with? hydrogen peroxide, saline, any kind of antiseptic?” you questioned, opening the drawer above it, which contained only invoices and a chequebook.
humming, simon stood, moving to the cabinet and pulling out a bottle of whiskey. at the roll of your eyes, he chuckled. “it works, doesn’t it?”
“i suppose it does,” you replied, collecting the fast food napkins you’d spotted while searching for the bandaids. then, after he’d sat once more, you softy placed your fingers at the bottom of simon’s balaclava. “may i?”
whenever simon’s eyes met yours, your breath hitched. every single time. whether it was because of that stupid crush that never went away or because his gaze were simply so intense, like an entire world existed within small pools of deep brown. pulling you in, drowning you. it was impossible to look away.
again, he hummed, granting you permission. gently, you rolled the fabric up, revealing his face inch by inch. this wouldn’t be the first time you’d seen his face — he spent far too much time around you to hide it. he still wore it more often than not, though, and every time he bothered to tug it off, it was like seeing it for the first time. roman nose, full lips, the scar across his brow, the prickly dusting of facial hair along his jaw. it was a shame he hated photographs — you’d frame it if you had any less sanity.
in your distraction, the tension had grown thick, humming in the silence of the room. clearing your throat, you took the whiskey from him, turning it over in your hands. “this stuff is shit.”
his face twisted. “how the hell d’you know what whiskey tastes like?”
snorting, you uncapped the bottle, and began to soak the corner of a napkin. “y’know, riley, i’ve been legal for a while now.”
his lip twitched, forming a crooked smile. “i know. it’s hard not to. y’keep growing. every time i see you, you’re . . .”
he trailed off. placing a gentle hand on his forehead, you tilted his head backward, and began to gently wipe at the cut. “i’m what?”
imperceptibly, he shook his head, careful not to jostle you. “more of a woman.”
you barked a laugh at that, and his smile grew. “more of a woman? what does that mean? i had tits when i met you, simon.”
simon rolled his eyes. “that’s not — what i meant. you’re . . . not a kid. you’re meaner now, for one.”
resuming the cleaning of his wound, you pouted. “mean? you wound me. maybe i’m just not scared of you anymore.”
“no, you’re not mean. always been a sweetheart.” his eyes fluttered shut beneath your ministrations. “you were scared of me?”
you giggled, and placed the bloodied napkin in the trash. then, you dug out a bandaid. “no, not really. nervous, maybe. intimidated.”
“is my handsome face really so daunting?”
this time, your laugh was lacklustre — he’d hit the nail straight on the head. “you’re bigfoot in a skull mask. before you spoke, i was a bit nervous.”
“but you’re not? now?”
peeling the parchment from the back of the bandaid, you met his gaze. “no. why would i be?”
this time, it was simon that looked away. you delicately placed the band-aid over the cut, before he said, “thank you, angel.”
you smiled, and, like you were drunk of the proximity of him, placed a quick, daring kiss to the band-aid. “if i wasn’t such a generous nurse, i’d say you owe me. you’re lucky.”
simon breathed laugh, and if you didn’t know better, you’d think the tops of his cheeks were pink. clenching and unclenching his jaw, he murmured, “lucky indeed.”
— ∘♡༉∘ —
in hindsight, believing your high school friends were capable of growing up was one of your less intelligent ideas. call it boredom or stupidity, but when a few of your old friends invited you out to the bar, you were compelled to accept.
it, unsurprisingly, went dreadfully. the first half of the night was fine — the first round of shots was purchased by one of the sweeter ones. you caught up over murky-coloured cocktails, swapping stories about your new lives and reminiscing over your old ones. the alcohol warmed your skin and loosened your limbs. the night went on and the amount of patrons doubled; you recognized a lot of them from old classes or bus rides or kindergarten friendships.
a boy from high school, one that hadn’t said a single nice thing to you in the entire four years, approached you with something that was supposed to be a smirk. you were polite at first, nodding along to his slurred words, exhaling when he attempted a joke. he dragged a hand over your thigh, and when you shifted away he easily followed. you excused yourself, muttering something about using the restroom, and he took it as an invitation.
“y’like it public, huh? never took you as the type,” he garbled, sliding off the barstool and following your movements. “i like whatever you like, baby.”
“no, i — actually need to pee,” you stated, glancing around the bar for your lost friends. he stared at you for a long minute, eyes narrowing.
“mm, fine. i’ll — i’ll pull up my car, we can head back to my place.”
“no, i—” you began, eyeing his sleazy grin and glazed-over leer. “i don’t want to go home with you. i’m not interested. i’m sorry.”
it takes a few moments for him to wrap his head around your words; each one spelled out across his face as it’s processed. finally, his expression twisted into a sneer.
“should’ve fuckin’ known not to waste my time with you,” he barked, unfocused eyes glaring daggers at you. “once a whore always a whore, huh?”
the most embarrassing part of this was the tears. you didn’t let him see them — too prideful to let them fall before you muttered a “fuck you,” and escaped out the side door.
the night air was freezing, twinged with the sharp bite of early winter. without a jacket or alcohol — you’d sobered up as soon as his hand touched your leg — to warm you, you were left hugging yourself, digging your phone out of your purse.
you could have sobbed when a red battery symbol lights up the screen, before flickering back off, dead. you just might have had you not spotted a pay-phone a few meters away.
there were only a few coins in your purse. had it not been kept for just-in-case situations like these, there would be none at all. shoving a few into the coin slot, you dial the number you’d had memorized from childhood.
it rang several times, wind whistling in your other ear, before your father’s voice stated, “sorry, can’t reach the phone. leave a message.”
a choked sound left your throat. what the hell were you supposed to do? most of your friends had split off into tiny sub-groups, and you were too ashamed to ask any of them for a ride. there was the option of asking a bartender to call a cab, though the idea of that was, for no real reason, profusely embarrassing. then, you remembered the one other phone number you’d memorized.
you don’t really know why — there was no reason for you to remember it, especially over any other phone number. yet, when he’d handed you that crumbled sheet of paper, your eyes had traced over the shapes of the numbers, and for some reason committed them to memory with no further effort.
whatever the reason was, you didn’t feel like questioning it. you were merely thankful you did. with cold fingertips, you pressed the digits into the payphone.
he picked up on the fourth ring. “who’s this?” was the greeting.
“it’s me,” you replied, and you barely were able to finish saying your name before he was cutting you off.
”what’s wrong? are you alright?”
huffing a quiet laugh, you said, “‘m fine, simon. i just—” you sighed, clutching the phone tighter in your hand. “i went out with my friends, an’ i—i’m just not having a good time. i tried to call my dad, but it’s past ten, so he’s passed out. i’m sorry—”
“where are you?” he asked, and there was a rustling in the background.
there were only a few bars in town—he knew immediately where this one was. “i’m on my way, i’ll be there in ten. are you in a safe spot, sweetheart?”
“i’m in a telephone booth. my phone died.”
“of course it did. would you be willing to go in an’ ask the bartender to use the phone?”
“no.”
“alright. okay. just stay on the line with me then, okay? d’you have any extra change, in case y’run outta minutes?”
”yeah. i should be good. i’m—listen, si, i’m really sorry—”
“if i hear that word come outta y’r mouth again we’re gonna have issues,” he said, and you laughed despite yourself. “‘m glad you called. now i’ll get t’see your pretty face.”
a girlish giggle sounded from your chest, and if it weren’t so damn cold, you might’ve been embarrassed. “i hate bars.”
“y’go to the wrong ones,” he replied. “one day i’ll take you out to one of my favourites. show you a decent drink.”
“my drinks are decent,” you argued. there was a whooshing sound on the line, and you panicked. “you’re not driving your motorcycle, are you?”
“didn’t have anything else with me,” he said. “y’got a problem with my harley, trouble?”
“your harley is a death machine.”
simon chuckled. “i’ll drive slow with you.”
“you should be driving slow now.”
another laugh. “i’ll be there in three.”
“simon!” you admonished. “you said ten!”
“that was four minutes ago.”
shaking your head, you said, “your lack of self-preservation should be studied.”
in the few seconds he took to reply, your teeth clacked together, and simon swiftly asked, “are you chattering?”
your lack of response served as one on its own, and he continued, “doll, what’re you wearing in this telephone booth?”
“um,” you started, chewing your bottom lip. “a skirt.”
“and a jacket?”
“uh.”
“christ,” he swore. “your lack of self-preservation should be studied. it’s not even 5° out.”
“jackets are a lot of work to carry around in a bar,” you argued, though you knew it was fruitless. “and i wasn’t really planning on spending any time in a telephone booth.”
“y’should always prepare for the worst,” he stated. “what if i hadn’t picked up, hm?”
“you always pick up.”
for a short moment, the other line was quiet, with only the quiet whoosh of the wind brushing past the speakers. then, “yeah, i do.”
the way he said it — so tenderly, like an admission — had any response dying on your tongue. your heart felt oddly warm, and didn’t quite know what to do with yourself, curling and uncurling the phone cord around your fingers.
“‘m here, trouble,” simon said, saving you from further awkward silence. a headlight glared against the glass of the phone booth, hallowing fingerprints and rain stains. squeaking out an, “okay,” you hung up the phone with a click and stepped out.
he was off his motorcycle already, immediately tugging off his jacket and wrapping it around your shoulders before pulling you against him.
“god, you’re a fuckin’ ice cube, sweetheart,” he said. he held you like that for a while, arms wrapped so tightly around your frame that you worried you’d morph into him. not that you minded — he was warm.
afterwards, simon cupped your cheeks, tilting your head upward as he examined you, as if you were ill or injured. furrowing his brow, he asked, “were you crying?”
you attempted to look away, ashamed, but in his grip it proved futile. “not much.”
“what happened?” he asked, and there was something in his voice, laced in the low rumble of it, that sounded threatening. it wasn’t meant for you, that was clear — he’d never direct anything hostile toward you. before he had even the barest idea of who or what made you cry, he was already furious at it.
“it’s nothing.”
“tell me,” he demanded. then, softer, “please. i just — need to know.”
moving your gaze from a far-off shape in the night towards his, you were unable to keep it from him. “i—this guy. i went to high school with him.”
a spark lit his gaze. “what’d he do?”
for a few breaths, you were quiet, trying to sort the words into something only mildly wrath-inducing. “he wanted, um, to take me home. i didn’t want to. he got upset.”
the spark caught, lighting his gaze into a furious blaze. even beneath the balaclava, you could see his jaw clench. he stepped away from you and set on a warpath toward the bar.
“simon—no,” you yelped, hurrying to catch up with him. it was a difficult task—your shoes weren’t comfortable and his long legs moved swiftly. finally, you caught his leather sleeve in your grasp. “don’t. please, don’t.”
at the sound of your voice, soft and warbled, he stopped, turning to face you once more, and whatever he saw on your face had his eyes softening.
“i don’t want to deal with him any more than i already have,” you said, staring up at him. “i just—i just want to leave. can we go to your house, please? i don’t want to be alone. i don’t want to think.”
the neon bar lights cast strange shadows across your frames, illuminating you in various bright colours as you stood, gazes caught in one another. simon seemed to fight with himself for a moment, fury and something far more tender battling for authority. the latter won out; he exhaled a long breath, hand cupping the back of your head and pulling you into him once more.
“let’s go, yeah?”
you nodded, following with your arm wrapped around his as he led you to the bike. attached to the back was an extra helmet, which he placed atop your head, adjusting it with a heady stare you couldn’t meet. the helmet smelled like pine and tobacco and vanilla and simon — it was everywhere, and you blissfully drowned in it.
when it was to his satisfaction, he tugged his gloves off and pulled them over your fingers. they were large and loose on you, and they were still warm from his skin. afterward, he pulled his own helmet back on, and held a hand out, helping you onto the back of the machine. large hands adjusted your hips, manhandling you into the right position, and it took everything in you not to make some sort of embarrassing squeak.
“okay,” he murmured, bent over your shoulder. “i’m gonna sit on the front here. you’ll have your arms wrapped around my torso, okay? and you’re not gonna let go, at all. yeah?”
you nodded. “mmhmm.”
“i need to hear your words, love.”
meeting his gaze for the briefest second, you repeated, “i won’t let go.”
“good. i won’t too fast with you, but if y’need me to pullover, just let me know, yeah?”
another nod, and this time he gave you a pointed look. “i’ll let you know,” you stated, lips just barely twitching.
with a gloved hand, simon pat your helmet and mounted the bike. after the briefest moment of hesitation, you wrapped your arms around his middle. even through the leather, he was warm; you couldn’t help but burrow a bit further into him. with merely a glance at simon, it was obvious he was built — far more than any other man you knew. to feel it beneath you, though, was an entirely separate thing. he was solid and unyielding but not harsh; a thin layer of fat kept him just soft enough.
“good girl,” he praised, patting the hands you’d entwined in front of his belly. you pressed your eager grin between his shoulders.
the motorcycle rumbled beneath you, and, slowly, he eased the gas, weaving through the tightly-crammed parking lot. just as he was about to exit the lot, he asked, above the exhaust, “you alright?”
“mmhmm,” you hummed, cheek pressed against leather. then, “yes.”
with that, he accelerated onto the road, joining the late-night traffic. the wind whistled in your ears and bit at your exposed legs; you pressed yourself further against him, and his back vibrated with the sound he made in acknowledgment. above, yellowish streetlights warmed the pavement and passing cars. gas stations and markets and various homes passed by in a colourful blur.
at a red light, while you sat still, simon’s hand came down, brushing over your knuckles in slow circles. the movement was featherlight and you wondered if it was unconscious — as soon as it flicked back to green, he moved the hand back to the handles without any acknowledgment.
the ride to his place was closer than it would have been to yours. simon lived in a small, red brick townhouse, far enough from downtown to be quiet, and close enough to access it without any hassle. he could afford better, though he opted for this because ‘it was all he needed.’ a stove to cook on, quiet neighbours, and a bed to sleep in — these were his only requirements.
steering the motorcycle beside the curb, he parked it there, and leaned backward into you. “how was that?” he asked. the world seemed strangely quiet without the hum of the engine.
“fast,” you said lamely, honestly. “not as bad as i thought, but i still prefer cars. they have walls. and heat.”
simon laughed, shaking his head. the sound echoed through his shoulders, which you were still pressed against. “when i get you a jacket i’ll make sure it’s heated.”
the idea of simon purchasing you a leather jacket to ride with him more often — it made your face heat up and your cheeks ache with a restrained grin. you were barely able to get yourself under control before he was sliding off the bike and offering a hand to you. even with his help, maneuvering your way off with mostly-numb legs was a difficult task. you just barely were able to land steady-footed on the pavement. as if simon knew this, he kept a hand on the small of your back as you walked up the steps to his home.
inside, it smelled like simon. pine, english breakfast tea, and something unique to him. the only thing missing was the stench of a cigarette; you knew he refused to smoke inside.
the decorations were minimal yet cozy; it was surprisingly neat. besides the pair he’d just kicked off, the shoes were lined up along the wall. you’d been inside very few times, and never long enough to observe. in the living room, the lamp was still on, bathing the room in warmth. there was a cup of tea on the coffee table, only a few sips left. beside it was a novel you didn’t recognize, dog-eared halfway through.
every detail felt important, like a glimpse into him. had the bar not left you feeling sticky and unkempt, you could have stayed here observing for hours. yet, your shirt felt suffocating across your chest, and the nape of your neck felt sweaty despite the earlier chill.
“um,” you began ungracefully. “do you mind if i use your shower? i feel . . . icky.”
his lips twitched at your choice of words, and he nodded. “yeah. lemme show you the bathroom, sweets.”
following him up the stairs, he directed you to the bathroom, pulling two towels out of his linen-closet. then, he said, “shower’s fuckin’ complicated. too fancy. lemme get it started for you.”
you watched as he ducked in, fiddling with buttons and knobs until steam danced over the glass doors. afterward, he looked back at you, peering at your figure. “that’s not very comfortable.”
you followed his gaze, glancing over your outfit. “well, no.”
he huffed. “i’ll get y’something of mine,” he stated, and made his way toward the door. “i’ll leave it on my bed, yeah? just down the hall. if y’need anything, sweetheart, just shout. i’ll be downstairs.”
giving a soft smile, you nodded and said, “okay. thank you, simon. really.”
“no need. i’d let y’live here if it meant never going to that fuckin’ shitehole again.”
“it wasn’t that bad of a bar.”
he gave you a dead-pan stare. “shite. hole.”
amused, you rolled your eyes, and pushed the door shut. on the other side, you heard a chuckle — the smile that bloomed on your face at the sound was unbidden.
it’d be a lie to say it didn’t feel strange to strip in simon’s house. the fact that only a few walls stood between you sent a strange thrill through you. it was in your best interest to ignore it — your heart and body had incredibly inappropriate reactions to the man, and tonight they seemed to be at an all time high.
he was being kind, nothing else.
once your clothes were peeled off and discarded on the tiled floor, you stepped into the shower. immediately, the warmth enveloped you, melting the tension out of your muscles and washing it away.
simon didn’t have much of a selection when it came to soaps. you were thankful he had a decent face wash, though — at least there were no three-in-ones.
the body wash smelled lovely — that dizzying, woodsy scent native to simon danced alongside the steam in the bathroom as you lathered it across your skin. though it was tempting to stay for longer, you didn’t want to waste too much of his water. you stepped out, and wrapped a shockingly soft towel around your abdomen.
the house was quiet when you stepped out of the restroom, clothes collected in your hands as you padded toward simon’s bedroom. this was the one room you hadn’t yet seen, though you could have predicted quite a bit of it. neat, minimal decorations. a king-sized bed because anything smaller wouldn’t fit him. folded atop were joggers and a sweatshirt.
it wasn’t a surprise you had to roll up the pant legs until they were ridiculously cuffed at the bottom. the sight of yourself in the mirror made you snort; you were drowning in simon’s clothes. butterflies swarmed your tummy, too—you were in his clothes, like you belonged to him. the train of thought was dangerous, you quickly looked away.
exiting his bedroom, you heard a quiet, continuous popping sound. padding down the stairs, you followed it into the kitchen where simon stood, collecting a bit of butter and a salt shaker.
though your steps were quiet, simon’s eyes were on you before you even stepped inside the room. his gaze swept your figure, dwarfed in his clothes, lingering just long enough for you to catch it before he was shifting it away, jaw twitching beneath his balaclava.
after a moment too long, he said, “hey, trouble.” his voice was low. “making popcorn. there’s tea.” he gestured with his chin to the counter where two mugs sat, one of which you’d gifted to him nearly three years ago now. a black cat was painted on the front, a grumpy expression wrinkling it’s little face (“it reminds me of you,” you’d said). in a significantly less interesting mug was your tea, several shades lighter than his black.
“thank you,” you murmured against the lip of the glass, wincing slightly when a sip burned your tongue.
“do you—” he began, taking the popcorn out of the microwave and pouring it into a bowl. “how’s a movie sound?”
you grinned. “it sounds lovely.”
“there’re dvds in the cupboard out there,” he explained, sifting the butter and salt through the popcorn. “take your pick.”
a snort. “why am i not surprised you still use dvds?”
simon raised a brow. “i spend half my life in barracks. netflix is a scam, love.”
“sure,” you said, grinning impishly. “grandpa.”
despite your teasing, his movie collection was vast. a lot of them you hadn’t heard of, though you picked out a familiar one, presenting him with your choice when he joined you in the living room.
“diehard, hm?” he gave a crooked smile. “tis the season, i suppose. you have good taste, sweetheart.”
“i know,” you stated proudly. “but you should keep complimenting me.”
simon huffed a laugh, and placed the disc in the dvd player. “i already feed your ego too much.”
making yourself comfortable on his couch, you agreed, “you really do.” then, when he procured a blanket and draped it across your lap, you snorted. “this isn’t helping.”
placing the popcorn between you, simon shoved a few pieces in his mouth, and said, “sorry, sweets. can’t help it.” his smile was lopsided and boyish, charming. the tv flickered on, basking the room in a blueish glow, before simon clicked ‘play’ on the movie.
together, you watched the opening scenes of the movie. a few jokes were muttered back and forth, but, other than that and the sounds of the film, it was quiet. the popcorn was delicious, lathered in an unhealthy amount of butter and salt, you shovelled it into your mouth.
the tea, too, was lovely. warm and sweet, and, combined with the comfort of simon’s presence, you were sleepily lulling back into the plush couch. with low eyelids, you tried to make yourself comfortable, manoeuvring your body this way and that. huffing, you stared down at the couch, searching for a decent position, when you spotted simon’s lap.
all muscled and soft, he’d make the perfect pillow. would he mind? you sincerely doubted he would. it was innocent, after all. you simply wanted to relax. the only one it might be awkward for was you, and if you could get past your stupid crush for a single hour, it’d be perfect.
after one more moment of doubt, you stretched yourself out and hesitantly laid your head on simon’s lap. beneath you, he tensed for a moment, and you just about thought you’d fucked everything up before he relaxed back into the couch. a large hand made a home on your back, running soothingly up and down your spine.
laying against simon like this — it was so peaceful. your mind hushed to a low hum as you nestled further into him, eyes trained on the screen. his fingers trailed upward, tracing a pattern on the nape of your neck and returning south.
the movie was entertaining, though you felt yourself slipping into sleep. occasionally, simon’s fingers would slip over a ticklish slip of skin, and you’d shiver, causing him to exhale a chuckle.
slowly, as your mind quieted, so did the sound of the film, until it was an unintelligible mumble. the world started and ended with simon’s thighs beneath your cheek, and his hand against your shoulders.
against your eyelids, the screen was bright, lighting them up uncomfortably. huffing sleepily, you pressed your face into simon’s lap, burrowing further in an attempt to make yourself comfortable. beneath you, something firm prodded against your cheek, and at once you were very awake.
simon, suddenly, stiffened. the hand on your back halted, fingers hovering over your skin before dropping away completely. “oh, fuck—christ, sweetheart, i’m so sorry. i’ll drive you home, okay? or—i’ll call a cab, if you’d rather that—”
“simon.” the word was firm enough to catch his attention, quieting him if only for a moment. your mind swam—a mess of confusion, lust, excitement, and need. when it proved too difficult to sift through, too impossible to cohere, you voiced the one word you could manage:
“please.”
though concealed by his balaclava, the reaction simon had was the clearest you’d ever seen. his breath hitched, chest rising and falling rapidly. his gaze, so dilated it was almost entirely black, narrowed on your face. it darted between your features, like he was searching for some sort of hidden meaning in your words, like he didn’t quite believe you.
in retaliation, your hand, trembling only slightly, came up and grazed the too-large tent in his trousers. immediately simon’s hand gripped your wrist, squeezing his eyes shut and inhaling sharply.
“kid—” he said then, and the word was wrapped in molten heat. it was gravelly in a way you’d never heard before, a rumble in his chest. goosebumps broke out along your skin. “don’t start something you’ll regret.”
“i’m not,” you stated bravely, daringly. you adjusted your position, only to face him better, and he did not let go of your wrist. you hoped he couldn’t feel the rapid thrum of your pulse beneath his thumb. “please, simon. i want this. i’ve wanted this.”
that snagged on something in his brain; caught his attention and held it. he stared at you, intense as ever. behind his gaze was a dilemma; a war you could only see traces of. after a few suffocatingly long moments spent beneath heavy tension, something won out, and the grip on your wrist loosened.
immediately, with years of want behind your touch, you grazed your hand over his clothed length once more. the breath in your chest stuttered when you grasped it, feeling just how big he was beneath your fingers.
a sound rumbled in simon’s chest; a groan of sorts. exploratorily, you tilted your head down, holding his burning gaze as you brushed your lips over his trousers.
“fuck,” simon cursed, hand grasping the back of your skull. he didn’t push or move you at all; he simply held it there, like he couldn’t bare to not be touching you himself.
the button of his trousers was difficult to undo with shaking hands, but you managed, pulling down his fly barely seconds after. with uneven breaths, you delved beneath the band of his briefs, pulling him up and out of the fabric.
the sight of simon’s cock was enough to get you off on it’s own; too thick for one of your hands to wrap around it, long enough that it bobbed against his shirt as you stared, too entranced for embarrassment. he was uncut, and there was a mound of curly, dirty-blond hair at the base, trimmed just enough to stay out of the way. you exhaled, breath ghosting along his length. the grip simon had on you tightened
again, you looked up at him. simon’s gaze was unwavering, as if looking away was some sin he was too pious to commit. it was then, as he gazed down at you with a burning gaze, that he seemed to read something in your expression. a pleading, a search for guidance. whatever it was, it had him speaking. “go ahead, sweet girl. get y’mouth on me.”
like his words triggered some sort of instinctual response in your body, your mouth was immediately moving. you licked a long, languid stripe from base to tip, revelling in the warm, salty taste. then, your lips wrapped around the head, suckling slightly before descending another inch.
“fuck,” he cursed again, hand moving in soothing circles against the back of your skull. “good fuckin’ girl. such a good listener, aren’t you?“
the words pulled a whimper from your throat. you released his dick for the briefest moment, a string of saliva connecting you, before wrapping your lips around him again, hollowed cheeks taking as much as you could manage. the fact that it was only half was disappointing.
“christ, angel. y’mouth is — heaven. fuck.” the choked sound of his voice only emphasized his point. when you made another noise, something between a whimper and a whine, he chuckled, and said, “like me talking to you like that? telling you how good you are? fuck, y’re so sweet. my sweet girl.”
moaning against him, you attempted to take more. betrayed by your gag reflex, you pulled back, choking, eyes glistening with tears.
simon cooed, hands cupping your jaw and thumb brushing over your cheek, wiping away a tear that’d escaped. “oh, angel, y’don’t need to take so much so fast. you’re doing so well. lemme show you. is that okay? can i help you?”
swallowing the excess drool in your mouth, you nodded, and his eyes crinkled with a smile. then, he was pulling his balaclava up, the seam stretched over his nose as he pressed a kiss to your forehead.
“words, love.” though his voice was soft, it was a command. “thought i taught you this already.”
“please,” you whispered. “show me how,” his face was close enough to see the thin wrinkles around his eyes, the soft dusting of a five o’clock shadow over his jaw. “wanna make you feel good.”
simon’s lips curved before they pressed against yours, all gentle and soft like you’d break if he were any rougher. it was inebriating to be treated so reverently, hands holding your jaw like you were something precious. simon made you feel like you were.
his lips moved languidly. he took control of it easily, guiding your lips with his own. he didn’t escalate it, didn’t shove his tongue into your mouth like so many other boys had. he kissed like he found pleasure in this alone.
arms tangling around his neck, you gently ran your nails over the nape of his neck, where fabric met skin. simon groaned, softly nipping at your bottom lip. you giggled.
as much as you adored this — you’d kiss simon for hours if he’d let you — you were getting impatient. you’d gotten a taste for him, and you were quickly becoming addicted.
when you pulled away, he let you, stare darting between your kiss-swollen lips and glazed-over eyes. he watched your gaze trail back down to his crotch, and chuckled quietly.
“eager thing, aren’t you?” he questioned, leaning in to press one last kiss to the corner of your mouth. “go ahead, trouble.”
you didn’t need to be told twice — keeping your head on his lap, you laid out on your belly, across the couch. his hand found your head again, and this time, he gently guided you forward, allowing your lips to find his cock once more.
“that’s it, love,” he murmured. he had you stay like that for a while, suckling contentedly on the head and lapping your tongue over his slit.
“if y’need to come up for air, tap my thigh, alright?” he instructed. you nodded, before correcting yourself, allowing him to slip from your mouth only to voice, “okay.”
simon exhaled, the sound shaking towards the end as your long laved the underside of the head. “good fuckin’ girl.”
though you’d blown guys before, this — simon — was different. something about him, his scent or the sound of his voice or simply his presence, created a haze that had your mind going cloudy. with your lips wrapped tightly around his cock, your world started and ended with simon riley.
little by little, he inched you down his cock. never too quick and never too much. in that moment, he seemed to know your body better than you. always stopping just before your gag reflex was triggered, just before your limit was reached.
“look at you, breathing outta your nose. you’re a natural.”
your breathy moan vibrated against simon’s cock; his thighs tensed, though he didn’t buck his hips or push you down. he continued his languid pace, inching you down only when you could handle it.
“so good,” he muttered. at this point you’d taken more than half of of him. breathing steadily out of your nose, you used a spare hand to grip the remaining length, pumping it in time with your mouth. “fuck. ah, angel, ‘m gonna cum if you keep tha’ up.”
spurred on, you hollowed your cheeks and took another inch, blinking away tears. his pelvis barely a few centimeters from your nose, now, and with one last deep breath, you swallowed back the rest of his cock.
“fucking christ—!” simon swore, pulling you off of him as gently as he could manage. you sputtered, coughing and sniffling as tears ran freely from your eyes.
“oh, none of that now, love,” he cooed, big hands cradling your jaw as he kissed away your tears.
“did i do something wrong?” you asked. your voice was raw.
“no, no. of course not, love. you could never do anything wrong,” he stated, pressing a lingering kiss to your hairline. then, he chuckled, warm breath ghosting along your skin. “‘m not as young as i used to be, pretty girl. ‘n if i’m finishing tonight, i want it to be in this sweet cunt.” to make his point, he cupped you over your panties, which had become embarrassingly wet over the last bit. sensitive, you whimpered, curling further into him and grinding down. “how’s that sound, hm? y’gonna let me fill y’up?”
vehemently, you nod, gripping the wrist that’d snuck up your skirt for support. “please. yeah, yeah. i want that, si.”
with shaking hands, you gripped the bottom of your top in an attempt to yank it off. swiftly, simon stopped you, one hand large enough to catch the both of yours. “mm-mm. if ‘m gonna fuck you, ‘m gonna do it proper. y’deserve better than a shitty couch, dove.”
in the next breath, you were swept up into simon’s arms, legs wrapped tightly around his torso. a high-pitched squeak escaped you and tapered into a laugh as he carried you up the stairs, towards his bedroom.
“such a gentleman,” you joked, toying with the collar of his shirt.
“i try’,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to your palm when it cupped his jaw.
after closing the door behind him, simon gently dropped you on the bed. you giggled as you bounced, bracing yourself on your elbows and looking up at him. for a moment, simon stood, gaze locked on your frame, fists clenching and unclenching at his sides.
“fucking hell,” he cursed, finally. “you’re a dream.”
“a dream?” you echoed, grin simpering into a smirk. “y’been dreamin’ about me, riley?”
in a single, fluid motion, simon tugged his shirt off. he was a mass of muscle, age just barely softening his edges. tattoos ran up his arms and across most of his chest, where hair the same shade as his happy trail grew.
“‘course i have,” he answered, like it was obvious. then, he kicked off his slippers and fit himself between your legs, arms bracing himself just inches above you. “making me act like a fucking teenager again, wakin’ up to wet boxers.”
the thought of simon having wet dreams about you made your head spin. dumbly, you blinked up at him, and found yourself unimpressed with the balaclava still covering the upper-half of his face.
“can i?” you asked, voice quiet enough you wondered if he’d even be able to hear it. his small smile, though, gave him away. he nodded.
little by little, you rolled the offending material upward, revealing every mesmerizing inch of his face. tossing it to the side, you took a long moment to admire him: the long blond lashes, the sloping scars, the light spattering of freckles, his crooked nose.
“y’so pretty,” you stated, honestly. rose blossomed across his cheeks and nose, leaving you with a wide grin. simon pressed a kiss behind your ear, though you had a sneaking suspicion it was to hide his face.
“think that’s supposed t’be my line, love,” simon replied, gently nipping your throat. as you giggled, he continued downward, kisses growing sloppier as they reached your collarbones. then, he pulled back, fingers slipping over the hem of your shirt. he met your gaze for a brief second, searching for the permission you’d always give him, and tugged it off.
left in only the lacy scrap the lingerie shop deemed a bra, simon stated openly at you. this time, it was your turn to squirm, hands instinctively reaching to hide your face. easily, he caught your wrists.
“no. no. i wanna see you,” he said, squeezing your arms once. “cover your face and i stop, alright?”
huffing, you kept your hands at your side, and he twitched his lips. afterward, he smoothed large hands across your skin, over your stomach and ribs, cupping your chest. “so gorgeous.” he squeezed. “fuckin’ hate the idea of you going out in somethin’ like this when i’m not with you. no more. if y’wearin’ this, it’s for me, yeah? no one else.”
biting your lip, you nodded, not trusting your voice enough to speak. simon disagreed with your decision, seeing as he pinched your side. “no one else,” you affirmed.
“good girl.” he drew out the words, eyes trained on your chest, before he was reaching behind and unclamping your bra with his fingers. sliding it off, he tossed it haphazardly into the growing pile of clothes on his floor.
simon wasted no time in resuming his assault on your skin, leaving a kiss here and a bite there. he swirled his tongue over your tits, paying special attention to your nipples, playing with one while he had his mouth on the other. little marks littered your saliva-soaked skin when he reached the top of your skirt.
one more glance at you and he was tugging it down, along with the flimsy nylons you’d worn. swiftly, he pressed an open-mouthed kissed to your cloth-covered cunt, easily keeping your hips down when they tried to buck.
the air was cold against your soaked cunt when he peeled back the fabric, pulling it over your ankles and discarding it on the floor. as had become his habit, simon took a moment to admire you. eyes blazing and turning the skin beneath it warm. your hands fisted the blankets as you resisted the urge to cover up.
“so pretty,” he said, moving backward down the bed and climbing off it. then, he tugged you with him, earning a tiny yelp, before kneeling at the end of it. “wanted t’taste you for fucking ever. y’gonna let me, sweetheart? hm? you gonna let me taste your sweet cunt?”
nodding, you squeezed your eyes shut and breathed, “please, simon.”
his fingers, warm and steady, trailed up your thighs, pulling a shiver from you. “spread your legs a little wider for me, baby. there y’go. good.” then, slowly, they inched towards your centre, spreading you open. you didn’t have to look to know he was staring.
all at once, his tongue was on you, licking a long stripe up your folds and over your clit. you moaned embarrassingly loudly, trailing off into a long whine when he didn’t let up. your fingers knitted themselves in his blond waves, tugging as gently as you could manage. he groaned in approval, the sound vibrating through your cunt and sending your back arching.
“fuck! simon,” you yelped. his hands held your legs apart when they attempted to close, overwhelmed by pleasure.
he slipped away from your heat only to say, “keep sayin’ my name.”
whining, you pushed his head back into you, and he chuckled, resuming his ministrations on your cunt. simon was talented with his tongue — something jealous burned you at the thought of how he got so good. the thought was quickly scrubbed from your brain, though, when he flicked the tip of his tongue over your clit, circling it once, twice, before descending again.
“please,” you whined, though you didn’t know what you were asking for. his pace had slowed, now, sloppily making out with your cunt like it was something he could worship. “simon . . . ”
the pleasure was inescapable; your body was torn between grinding down on his mouth and trying to wriggle away from it. it didn’t help that he was doing it so leisurely; tongue moving languidly through your folds and over your clit like it was for his pleasure instead of yours. that thought got you off all the more.
your legs trembled, winding around simon’s head and damn near suffocating him — not that he cared. when you glanced down, he was watching you, nose shiny as it brushed against your clit. simon smirked — you could feel the movement against you.
had you been in any other state, the sound you made as you tumbled over the edge might have embarrassed you. as it was, though, you didn’t have the mind for anything other than pleasure as your back bowed off the bed and your legs tightened around simon’s skull.
he was saying something — you only understood bits of it, but it sounded like a mindless litany of praise. “there you are, there we go. so good, so fucking good.”
he paired each praise with a kiss to your cunt until you were trembling from overstimulation, just pushing past the edge of too much. simon climbed up the bed and pressed wet kisses across your face; when he licked into your mouth and you tasted yourself, you moaned.
“you’re a fuckin’ vision, sweetheart. never knew you’d cum so pretty. y’gonna let me see it again? hm? y’gonna let me fuck you, baby?”
you were nodding before the words were even out of his mouth, snaking your arms around his neck and kissing him deeply. without breaking it for longer than a few seconds, simon moved the two of you further up the bed until your head rested against his surprisingly soft pillows.
simon groaned appreciatively when your nails scraped against his skull. you grinned, and breathed, “you like pain just as much as me.”
simon chuckled, biting your chin. “maybe. when it’s you.”
“what was that you said earlier? something ‘bout feeding my ego?”
another laugh, and he joked, “i’m too far gone, now, i think. i’m just here to serve.”
“prove it.” your lips curved into a lust-drunk smile. “fuck me.”
with one last peck against your lips, simon smirked, and said, “yes ma’am.”
he leaned over you, then, tugging open the creaky drawer to his bedside table and fishing around. “shit.”
“hm?” you hummed, following his gaze to the foil packet between his fingers.
“‘s fuckin’ expired.” simon’s brow furrowed, and he brought the packet closer, squinting. you grabbed it from him, tossing it on the floor.
“i don’t care,” you said, probably stupidly, but the thought of not fucking simon right now had something foul twisting in your belly. “want you.”
running broad hands over your legs, simon gazed down at you, like your expression would say otherwise. you rolled your eyes. “i’m clean. i’m assuming you’re clean, if your condoms are expired.” simon pinched your side, and you giggled. ”please? want you to fuck me, simon.”
simon exhaled, and shook his head, smirking. “yeah?” he asked, fingers trailing over your belly. “y’want me to fuck you? cum in this little cunt?”
“yeah, yeah. please. want that.”
his lips press against yours again, hands continuing their journey downward until he was exploring your sensitive folds. you whimpered, quietly, but simon caught the sound and tutted. “i know, sweets. but i’ve gotta stretch you. don’t wanna hurt you, right? not tonight.”
lubing his fingers up with your slick, he started with his middle, circling your hole before slowly pushing inward. your earlier orgasm had relaxed you already, and he was able to add a second in no time. he explored for a moment, pumping his fingers in and out, curling them upward until he found that spongy spot that had your head rolling back in pleasure.
“there it is,” he said, and though your eyes were squeezed shut, you felt his smirk against your skin; heard it in his voice. “that feel good, pretty?”
the answering nod you gave was shaky and sudden, hands gripping onto his forearm for dear life. “fuck me, si. please—want your cock.”
“i know, i know. one more finger, how about that? then we can give you what you need.”
with a groan, you nodded, and sent him a short glare. he snorted, and muttered, “so impatient.”
“been waiting for fucking years,” you argued, though your point might’ve been lost in the quiver of your voice. “‘m allowed to be a little impatient.”
“years, hm?” his third finger prodded at your entrance. “guess i should hurry, then. poor thing.”
the way you dug your nails into his skin was both in pleasure and retaliation. three thick fingers pumped slowly in and out of you, curling in a way that had your thighs shaking.
finally, he slipped the fingers from you, the whine you gave turning into a moan when he plunged them into his mouth instead, savouring every bit of you. “so fuckin’ sweet.”
when simon’s fat tip ran through your folds, you tensed, and questioned if three fingers would really be enough. “simon . . . ”
though his voice was strained, he stopped, glancing up at you. “yeah, sweetheart?”
“i don’t—” his tip ran over your clit ”—fuck, i don’t know if you’ll fit.”
simon tsked, the hand not controlling his cock coming up to brush the hair out of your face. “don’t gimme that, sweets. you can take it, i know you can.” he kissed your jaw. “i’ll make it fit, yeah? how’s that?”
shakily, you exhaled, meeting his gaze. truly, you didn’t know if it’d wavered from your face all night. his eyes were so sure — you could do nothing but believe him. it’d fit. you nodded.
“yeah, yeah. there’s my girl.” again, his lips were on yours, tongue licking into your mouth. minty toothpaste, tea, and cigarettes overwhelmed your senses as his thick tip pushed inside, swallowing every moan you gave.
when he’d made it a few inches, simon pulled back. “how’s that?” he questioned. “y’okay, lovey? want me to keep going?”
you couldn’t nod fast enough. there was a bit of pain, but the pleasure of the stretch won out easily. tangling your hands in his hair, you yanked simon back down for a long, messy kiss. really, it was more so a clash of teeth and tongue and heavy breathing than a kiss, but you digress.
by the time simon was fully sheathed inside you, it felt like he was in your fucking lungs. he gave you as much time as you needed to adjust, though the way his fists clenched and unclenched beside your head proved how greatly he wanted to move. digging one of the legs wrapped around him further into his skin, you urged him to.
“fucking christ,” he groaned. simon dropped his head for a moment, hot breath fanning over your neck as he slowly rocked in and out. “y’so fucking tight.”
“m’not tight, you’re just huge,” you argued, a furrow in your brow. simon bit the juncture between your throat and shoulder—you giggled, the sound delirious.
propping himself up on his forearms once more, simon slowly pulled out, leaving only his tip inside of you, before swiftly thrusting back in, setting a harsh, steady pace.
little high-pitched sounds came from your chest with every thrust, cock abusing that spongy spot inside you that lit fireworks behind your eyelids. with the way you were clawing at his back, you’d be surprised if simon didn’t look like he was mauled by a wildcat tomorrow.
“so good. gripping me like a fuckin’ vice. swear it was like you were made for me,” he breathed, teeth grazing over your ear.
sense had long since left you — you only nodded, murmuring back, “for you, f’you.”
maybe the way his cock kissed your cervix would have you cursing tomorrow, maybe the way your back bowed with pleasured tension would have you hunching over in the morning — you didn’t care. right now, your world consisted of simon’s searing brown eyes and the toe-curling pleasure he supplied.
“feels so good.” your words were breathy, punctuated with a tug to his hair.
“yeah?” he questioned, smiling lopsidedly. “good. gonna fucking ruin you. you’ll never be able to take another cock without thinking of me—thinking of how good i made you feel.”
shaking your head, you whines, “no. no one else. only you.”
simon growled, thrusting especially hard as he licked and sucked at your throat. “yeah. you’re mine, aren’t you? my girl.”
“yours,” you nodded. “‘m yours, f’rever.”
simon groaned out a slew of curses, cock twitching inside of you. one hand reached down toy with your clit, making quick, slippery circles. “want you to cum again, baby. ‘m not gonna last much longer and — fuck — i need t’see it again.”
you’d already been dancing along the edge — his thick fingers and raspy words were a harsh push, leaving you dangling by one hand.
your eyes rolled back into your head, and his other hand was swiftly gripping your chin, gently shaking you. “on me, love, keep y’r eyes on me.”
with great effort, you kept your hazy gaze on his face, which was twisted in the effort to stave off his orgasm. you whimpered, and murmured, “say it again. say i’m yours. please.”
“oh, sweetheart,” he groaned, head dipping into the crook of your neck for a moment before finding your eyes again. “you’re mine, ain’t ya? my sweet girl. yeah. an’ i’m yours — always will be.”
the second the words left his mouth, you tumbled over the edge. your entire body shook, curving inward and wrapping itself around simon like it was trying to burrow inside him. in the haze of it, you heard simon shout, before warmth was spilling inside your cunt, filling you up to the fucking brim. if simon wasn’t simon, you were sure the grip you had on him would’ve broken something by now.
when you came back to, the world was quiet — soft breathing echoed through your ears, his and yours indistinguishable from each other. simon’s head was buried in your neck, the weight of him just bridging the edge of uncomfortable. it was bliss.
eventually, he rolled over, cock pulling out with an equally disgusting and enticing squelch. his spend leaked out of you, dirtying his sheets. neither of you minded, it seemed — he easily pulled you across his chest, pressing his lips to your warm forehead.
“y’with me, lovie?” his voice was barely more than a murmur.
you hummed, hand moving upward to trace over his sweat-soaked chest. “i think so.”
a quiet laugh vibrated in his chest, breath dancing across your face. you smiled in turn, crooking your neck to gaze at him. keeping in theme with the rest of the night, simon was already staring at you — his eyes seemed to shine when they found yours, and his lips curled up in a rare smile. you were met with the embarrassing urge to take a picture.
“you’re a mess,” he stated, chuckling quietly as his eyes darted across your face and body.
narrowing your eyes, you pinched his pec, and his chuckle became a laugh. “a beautiful mess, sweetheart. ‘s the prettiest you’ve ever looked, i promise.”
you rolled your eyes, and argued, “‘s your fault.” then, attempted to sit up — though his strong grip on your shoulder kept you down. simon frowned. “where d’you think you’re going?”
“i need to pee,” you stated, and he let you up with a huff. “then i need to fucking shower, again.”
simon made a sound. “how ‘bout i run you a bath, hm? lemme do the work.”
smiling softly, you glanced back at him. he took your hand that lingered on his chest and brought it to his mouth, pressing kisses over your knuckles. “that’d be lovely.”
simon stood, and when you looked over him, you smiled. hair mussed, lips swollen, skin glazed in sweat — he was just as much of a mess as you. in a single movement, simon swept you into his arms. with a yelp, you clung to him, and he carried you, bridal-style, into the bathroom.
placing you on the lip of the bathtub, simon left for only a moment to dig through his linen closet, and returned with a wash cloth. after running it under warm water in the sink, he helped you up once more and gently ran it between your legs.
afterward, while you used the restroom, simon ran the bath, using that intoxicating body-wash as bubble bath. spotting his back, which was covered in bright-red scratches, you giggled, feeling only a little bad.
“i’d say sorry for y’back, but really i look no better,” you stated. hickies and bite-marks littered your skin, decorating your neck, chest, and thighs.
snorting, simon moved to look in the mirror, eyes tracing the pinkish abrasions trailing from shoulders to spine. “i’ll wear ‘em with pride.”
once the tub had filled, steam dancing around the mound of bubbles, simon, again, helped you up. his skin was warm, and if the bath wasn’t so enticing, you’d be tempted to stay here, pressed against him.
easily, he lifted you up and into the bath, following you not long afterward. it was a shock he could fit all of his limbs in the tub, even moreso when you could fit between his legs. it was a bit squishy, but you couldn’t have traded it for anything — laying against his chest while his hands ran up and down your body. thighs, stomach, chest, arms — he touched you softly, reverently, lips pressing behind your ear.
“did you mean it?” you asked. the quiet hum of your voice seemed loud in the silence of the room.
“mean what, love?”
swallowing, you played with his fingers, and supplied, “that ‘m yours. that you’re mine.”
simon exhaled, and you could feel the small curve of his lips against the back of your neck. “i meant it.”
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greynatomy · 7 months
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football or football?
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lucy bronze x reader
lucy won the very close poll.
been seeing the whole taylor swift and travis kelce thing on tiktok and got this idea.
this became longer than Iithought it’d be. was supposed to be a ficlet. oh, well.
let me know what you think!
-grey
———
For the past two weeks, you’ve been trending on twitter. At first you don’t know what it’s about, but your publicist caught you up saying how there’s a footballer — American footballer — who keeps mentioning you in interviews and on his podcast. It was honestly getting pretty annoying, not just to you, but also to your very jealous girlfriend.
You’d both decided to keep your relationship private, with you being a popular musician and your girlfriend being a top footballer in the league. Except, the media has been labeling your relationship as friends, best friends who support each other. Never once has there been an article where you both are speculated to be dating.
You’ve both been fun with it, being able to not have to hide anything, but with the whole Travis Kelce using your name to stay relevant to the media, your girlfriend is getting fed up.
“I don’t know why he keeps bringing you up? Not once have you mentioned him on anything. ‘The ball is in your court?’ Like what does that mean?” Lucy rambles.
“Honestly, I’m getting tired of it too. I’ve been so busy with touring that I didn’t even know about it until Sarah told me.” You reply, cuddling up to her on the bed, your head on her chest.
“Did Sarah tell you what you should do?”
“Sarah’s pretty much fed up like the both of us so she said it’s up to me. She doesn’t care if I tell him to fuck off, I’d do it anyway without telling her.”
“Didn’t you say he invited you to a game?”
“Yeah, he did. Why?” You we’re getting skeptical with the way Lucy has a smirk and mischievous look on her face.
“Don’t you think it’s time for us to come out, no?”
“Been together four years. Probably long overdue.”
“Well you better tell him that you’d love to accept that invitation, with a plus one of course.”
“I’m liking the way you think.”
———
Now a week later, you and Lucy were dressed up in red, arriving at Arrowhead Stadium. Lucy had a red England bucket hat on that she took off your head. You were being escorted to the friends and family box by security, running into people who recognized you. One hand holding Lucy’s the other waving to people as you passed.
Walking into the box, you were met with lots of people, Travis’ mom was the one to come and greet you.
“It’s nice to meet you Mrs. Kelce.”
“Oh, please call me Donna. It’s so nice to meet you. I’m a big fan of your music, been wanting to meet you ever since Travis said that you’d both started talking.”
“That’s so nice of you, thank you, but unfortunately all the conversations your son had with me are one sided. I’ve never once entertained anything he said. The only time I’ve texted back was to tell him I’d love to attend a game. Never been to an American Football game before.”
“Really? My son said you guys were getting along.”
“Unfortunately for him, we haven’t. But I’d like to introduce you to my partner Lucy.”
“Oh, it’s very nice to meet you as well Lucy. I’m sorry if my son cause any trouble between the two of you.”
“It’s no worries at all. Excited to watch the game.”
“You’ve got an accent. Where are you from?”
“From England.”
“Yeah, I’m a sucker for accents. But let’s not let the situation get in the way and enjoy this game.”
———
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ynupdates yn seen at the kansas chief’s game
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fan1 NO WAY SHES THERE
fan2 MAMA KELCE IS WITH HER
fan3 is ynvis real?!?!
fan4 is everyone gonna ignore lucy bronze right next to her
———
The game just finished. Everyone is cheering as the Chief’s won a game at home. You and Donna hug each other close, jumping up and down. Lucy was actually awestruck by all the people celebrating their team winning, thinking back to all the times fans of hers and her team celebrated like this.
Moments after, you follow Debby to the hallways, no doubt leading to her son. Travis comes out freshly showered and changed a bit after, going straight to his Mom for a hug. Then he turns to you opening his arms out for a hug, so you give him a side hug, not wanting to be mean. Cameras click nonstop towards the two of you.
“It’s nice to finally meet you.” He says to you.
“You as well. Great game you played out there.”
“Thank you. Wanna go somewhere more private so we can hear each other better without the prying eyes?”
“Yeah, sure.”
He leads towards the exit, you following behind him, your hand holding Lucy’s tightly, who Travis hadn’t acknowledged at all. Exiting towards the garage where his and your cars are parked, you relax a bit, relieved to be away from the cameras. Lucy walks a bit off to the side to let you two talk, but still close enough to hear, in case he says something he shouldn’t.
“Im glad you accepted my invite.”
“Yeah, me too. I’ve never been to or seen an American Football game.”
“American Football?”
“Well, yeah. The U.S is the only one that plays this sport. Football is played throughout the world.”
“Wow, you’re gonna be like that?” He says, thinking you’re flirting with him by saying his sport isn’t widely played.
“Be like what?”
“Never mind. But I just wanted to ask if you wanna hang out right now? Get to know each other a bit more.” He steps closer towards you, but you step back.
“I’d have to decline. My girlfriend and I have to get back to England. She’s got a couple Football matches coming up.”
“Girlfriend?” Travis is shocked by the information. “I didn’t know you were even with someone.”
“I’m surprised no one knows. They see two girls and automatically think they’re best friends or something. But, no, been with that girl right there four years. It was very obvious.” You wave Lucy over. “Travis this is Lucy Bronze, my girlfriend—”
“—Actually fiancé. Proposed a couple weeks ago, so there’s still some getting used to. It’s nice to meet you mate. Heard you’ve been talking ‘bout my girl pretty often past few weeks.”
The look on Travis’ face is laughable.
“Uh, yeah. Sorry about that. I didn’t know.”
“Yeah, we’re very private people. But now that you’ve met my girl after being all up in her DM’s, you’d stop using her name to stay relevant yeah? ‘Cause it’s making you look desperate.”
You didn’t interfere. You’re stood off to the side, a proud look on your face.
“Yeah, of course. Never again.”
“The last thing you should talk about in that little podcast of yours is a public apology using her name for fame like many men have in the past.”
After a moment of Lucy staring at Travis she speaks up again. It was a bit funny how intimidated he looked at Lucy, seeing as she’s almost a foot shorter than him
“Well, mate, we best be off. I’ve got some Football to be preparing for, my girl by my side always. Best of luck to you. Hope you find someone that isn’t taken.”
With that, she takes a hold of your hand, leading you to the car. You give him a little wave, leaving him speechless in the middle of the parking garage.
———
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yourinstagram Thank you travis for the invite! Had a lot of fun at my first ever American Football game with my Fiancé. Congrats to you and your team on the win! #KansasCityChiefs
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lucybronze very different from football for sure
↳ yourinstagram very different
leahwilliamsonn where was my invite?
↳ yourinstagram you didn’t get one
↳ leahwilliamsonn rude
fan1 SHES ENGAGED
fan2 ynvis isn’t real thank god!
fan3 OHMYGOD ITS LUCY BRONZE ALCJHD
fan4 this is a very polite way of saying ‘keep my name out your fucking mouth’
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waywardcrow · 5 months
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Gorgeous.
Summary: Bucky is so gorgeous and you need to tell him in a very particular way.
Warnings: English is not my first language so please if I make a mistake tell me, alcohol, drunk rambles, fluff, a tiny bit of angst but not really, Bucky being Bucky, this was very self-indulgent and inspired in that Taylor Swift song we all love, if I forgot something please let me know.
I do not consent to my work being copied, translated or reposted.
“I can’t stop looking at you, it’s infuriating” you needed to stop talking but the alcohol in your veins only fuels more your infatuation with the super soldier who looked at you with a smirk. “And why is that, sweetheart?” he asked like he didn’t knew, the little shit. You scoffed while making yourself comfortable in your seat –his lap- and rolled your eyes. He was so damn handsome, even in the multiple color lights that Tony arranged for the party and the music was so loud that you had to talk very close to him so Bucky could hear you which also didn't help, you could see every freckle, every little beautiful detail. “Barnes, you know why” It was impossible that he didn’t knew you were crazy about him, always daydreaming about his eyes so blue that you could drown in them, his dark hair that looked so soft to the touch, his smirk full of charm, all about him made it very difficult to even meet his eye and you weren’t the only one. Agents, lab assistants, even the damn journalist who interview the team a few days back, all of them fell victims of him. “I swear I have no idea what are you talking about, love.” He started to rub circles in your back, his cold vibranium hand sending shivers at the contact with your skin. The simple navy blue dress you chose for Yelena’s birthday was apparently enough to catch his attention but it wasn’t enough for you, he was in your thoughts since you two met and Bucky didn’t seemed to understand it.
“Because you are gorgeous, you cheeky son of a bitch” that was your answer when his smile got wider, as if he found pleasure in troubling you, the words were starting to blur in your tongue, most likely for the shots you had with Natasha and Maria but the need to tell Bucky everything that was in your heart burned in your tongue just like tequila “you are so fucking handsome that I can barely believe you are real and your laugh makes me feel all tingly and full of joy at the same time” you averted your eyes but his stare burn in your skin to make you know his attention was on you “and you make me feel so at peace that is aggravating.” The rest of the team was distracted which was good, if someone else could listen to you talk right now, they will never let you hear the end of it. “Sweetheart…” “Let me finish Barnes” you interrupted, his amused surprise made you sigh when you saw him bit his lip “see? That´s the shit I’m talking about, no one should look this fine, you should really think about the consequences of doing stuff like that in front of me or any other person, I don’t think your girlfriend approves, if you have a girlfriend in the first place. Bucky’s eyebrows got up, that was interesting.
“My girlfriend, huh?” “Yeah, or your girlfriends or boyfriend, boyfriends, significant one” you started rambling because who were you to assume things about him? His laugh broke your train of thought, leaving you in awe of such spectacle “this is so unfair.” You mumbled tracing with your fingertips the smile lines surrounding his eyes, all the embarrassment and concern about his love life forgotten. “You are one to talk about it, doll” he said helping you find a comfortable position so you could lay your head against his shoulder, starting to doze off after you yawn “are you sleepy?” You nodded and closed your eyes, hugging him as best as you could with your free arm. “I hate how good you smell and how comfy you are, I want to sleep here forever.” Bucky smiled, you fell asleep after that and he got up to take you to your room. “Is your girl ok?” Sam asked him when he walked pass him and Peter in the pool table. “She's just sleepy, I’m going to take her to our bedroom” Both guys said their good nights and Bucky made it to the elevators, your face was so relaxed that he almost felt bad for how much he will tease you about your confession for the next days but that's what you get when forgot you both were already married.
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incognit0slut · 11 months
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Masterlist
KINKTOBER 2023 NSFW
One-shots based on songs
Lock your door NSFW Billie Eillish - Billie Bossa Nova >> All Reader wanted was for her coworker to pay attention to her. Spencer was more than happy to oblige.
Take it off Taylor Swift - Dress >> Spencer has a hard time keeping his hands to himself.
Buried in the pillow NSFW Chase Atlantic - Slow Down >> A night of restless sleep ends better than expected.
Body on mine NSFW Justin Sky - Collide >> Reader and Spencer find a way to spend the night together on a team retreat.
Lose Control part 1 of 3 NSFW Sickick - Mind Games >> Spencer finds himself locked in a room with his rival.
↳ The Last Laugh part 2 of 3 NSFW Sickick - Mind Games >> Spencer finds himself sharing a room with his rival.
↳ Better for you part 3 of 3 Spencer spends the change of year with a new resolution as he starts looking at his rival differently.
Dance with the devil NSFW Chase Atlantic - Swim >> Spencer reassures Reader that sex toys are his ally rather than his enemy.
All I need NSFW Daniel Caesar, Kali Uchis - Get you >> Spencer realizes how much he wants to spend the rest of his life with Reader. What better time is there to propose if not in the middle of making love?
Heaven to you NSFW Julia Michaels - Heaven >> Spencer couldn't wait to touch you after he's released from prison.
Play our fantasies NSFW Doja Cat - Streets >> The FBI agent visiting your workplace wants more from you than answers to his questions.
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One-shot #Gifwriting
Pretty Boy NSFW Spencer was too pretty for you to resist.
Pretty when you sleep NSFW As newlyweds, Spencer couldn’t keep his hands off of you. Even when you were asleep.
Sweet agony NSFW After a tragic event, you believed you were unworthy of love. Spencer decided to prove you wrong.
Tempting the Cowboy NSFW The team has been trying to bring Spencer back to the BAU after he hung up his badge to live on his ranch peacefully. It’s a good thing you’ll do whatever it takes to persuade him, even if the rugged cowboy wants to bend you over in the barn.
Beyond the limit NSFW Spencer was hesitant when you asked him to be rough, but when he realized how much you enjoyed it, he wondered just how far he could push your limit.
↳ The breaking point NSFW Spencer realizes that being dominant doesn’t always require him to be rough, especially when he has complete control over your body.
Hypothetically Chronically single, you suggest a pact with your best friend to start a family together when you turn forty.
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Series
Right Kind of Wrong
Genre: Romance, mystery, crime, suspense Warnings: 18+ explicit sexual content (MINORS DNI), graphic details of murders, mentions of suicide, mentions of SA status: complete
Reader never thought she would be involved in a murder investigation when she suddenly became a witness. She also never thought she’d encounter her one-night-stand again—the awkward stranger who isn’t exactly that good in bed… Or is he? Offended by the sentiment, Spencer is determined to prove her wrong. But the more he gets tangled with the beautiful stranger, the more he realizes there is more to her than what meets the eye.
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Your requests
Love was a foreign concept until he met you.
You’re flabbergasted at how much your son resembles your husband.
Spencer thinks you’re too sweet for a damaged man like him.
Spencer forces you to give him a show when he discovers your secret.
Spencer gives you a ride on his horse to watch the sunset.
Your idea of showering together to save time doesn’t work out as you planned.
Spencer finally lets you go down on him after you convince him that you're ready.
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everythingne · 5 months
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wing damage - mv1
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Eldest of the Halliwell-Horner pack, Y/n “Nadine” Horner gets her heart broken by the man she’s supposed to wed in six months. Four years of love slipping down the drain faster than she can try and grasp at the remaining water droplets. But... not all hope is lost as far as the f1 community is concerned and they might be right, since Max seems to be trying to get a little closer to his Team Principals daughter.
max verstappen x influencer!horner!reader
warnings & notes: cheating, mentions of alcohol, small age gap (24-27), strong language, probably inaccurate f1 information, using a name as a placeholder for y/n bc i’m not typing that every time, dates are off by two days in the beginning. deal, might have gotten christian's lore wrong but idk man he's just a white guy
fc: sophia la corte (and various ginger women on pinterest.)
04 MARCH 2024 — TWITTER. ↴
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BAHRAIN, 04 MARCH 2024 — REDBULL GARAGE ↴
“Do you want me to confront him?” Max asks, sitting down next to me in the paddock. His hand comes to squeeze my knee, my father rubbing my back as he deletes every photo—every memory of Jacob Taylor from my phone. Four years down the drain. My friends back home at my apartment are currently bagging up his stuff. Both Mona and Ally will move in with me, just like college again, once his stuff is empty. My bare apartment will soon be filled with our old nick nacks but i can hardly be happy about it.
Cheated.
The man who spent 50k on an emerald cut four karat ring with a real gold band, cheated? The man who cried when his mom told him she loved me, cheated? The man who cancelled an entire film set because it conflicted with my schedule, cheated? The man who won over the hearts of not only Geri Horner, but Christian Horner? He was the one who cheated?
Jacob was (strong emphasis on the was) the highest standard I ever held. Now, I didn’t even know what standards to have anymore. Anyone could be a cheater. I never stood a chance.
“It’s fine, Max.” I say softly, wiping at my face again to try and make it look less like I’ve been sobbing since I found out as soon as the plane touched down two days ago. The paddock is buzzing, qualifiers getting ready to start for the first GP. The warm Bahraini sun beats down on the track and I can see the heat wiggling above it. Even in March it’s as hot as summer over here, and part of me misses the gloomy, smoggy streets of London right now.
“It’s not fine!” Max groans at me, throwing his head back in exclamation. I know he’s sick and tired of hearing me say it for the thousandth time, but if I say it’s not fine, I’ll break down. And we can’t have that.
“Max,” Pierre’s voice calls before Max can go on another tirade about killing Jacob. Max turns and I can see the hesitance in him to leave my side. He’s been like this since I met him the first day he raced with Red Bull years back—instantly the two of us clicked. When the days got hard, or his dad got on his back a bit too much, I would appear by his side and with a tiny smile somehow I'd fix everything. After I became his sort of 'chauffeur' when one of our drivers got sick in Abu Dhabi his first year, and we got stuck in an hour of traffic with nothing to do but talk, we became basically glued to each others sides.
I think having my unwavering support made a lot of the transition into Red Bull easier for him. And in moments like these, where he's watching me with a keen eye, I don’t know how I lived so long without his calm presence at my side. I was only a five years old when my dad joined Redbull, it’s been my entire life, and every racer who has passed through our team has never stuck to my side like Max Verstappen has.
“Go.” I nudge his knee when I see his hand twitch and hover by his helmet, eyes darting to me and then Pierre who waits in the doorway, so I supply, “I’ll be here when you get back.”
Max nods, giving me a departing hug before he gets up and starts tugging his racing suit on. Immediately my father replaces him, turning my head to card his hands through my hair.
“Oh, honey.” My father murmurs, squeezing my arms as he lets me lean into him, “I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry, you didn’t do anything wrong, Papa.” I sigh, leaning into him and letting his wrap his arms tight around me.
“No, I trusted that boy. That’s what I did wrong.” He says back, before handing me back my phone. We sit like that for a long time, people passing us without asking. Everyone knew. I had found out the same way they all did—on social media. Jacob didn’t even have the balls to tell me himself. Fucking coward.
Eventually someone calls my father away, the racing must now in full swing. So I force myself to sulk off to a hidden corner where I can munch on chocolates and watch Max from a little tv. Not as good as my usual perch next to my dad, but I don’t need the public seeing me the day I find out my fiancé of several years had been cheating almost the whole time. With his co-star. Fucking hell.
10 MARCH 2024 — INSTAGRAM ↴
THENADINEHORNER MADE A NEW POST!
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liked by maxverstappen, danielricciardo, charlesleclerc, and 124k others...
thenadinehorner: the halliwell-horner household >>
tagged: christianhorner, gerihalliwell, blubelhals, theoliviahorner.
USER HAS COMMENTS LIMITED ON THIS POST
gerihalliwell: love u lots mini ginger spice!!!!
⤷ thenadinehorner: mama ill cry </3
charlesleclerc: maman says hello and that she will have wine for you when you come to monaco
⤷ arthurleclec: nadine you are very beautiful do not let a man win -- maman
⤷ thenadinehorner: OMGGGG <3<3<3 XOXO MAMAN JE VOUS AIME TELLEMENT
christianhorner: my beautiful daughter
theoliviahorner: best sister ever
allycameragirl: cutest family fr
blubelhals: I LOVE YOU NADI COME BACK SOON !!!
maxverstappen: you and your sisters together is recipe for disaster
⤷ danielricciardo: bet they're planning ur downfall.
⤷ thenadinehorner: beware both of u 🔪
10 MARCH 2023 — LONDON, ENGLAND.
I knew returning home to my apartment was going to be hard. I had spent a few days with my dad, Geri, Olivia, Bluebell, and Monty. My father's third marriage had brought me Bluebell and Monty, Olivia's mother my first step mother and my father's second wife.
My mother? I didn't speak to her for good reason.
But being in my father and Geri's home had been refreshing enough to start and heal my heart. I also learned that Geri was really fucking good at healing, it involved a lot of wine and a lot of cursing.
My apartment had been a home full of happy memories of moving in with Jacob, and our time living together everyday I wasn’t at GPs and he wasn’t on set. Memories of our families and friends together with us, and now it would be just me. So empty. Alone. White walls with no decorations anymore. Just staring at me, closing in slowly.
God, I’d rather kill myself than deal with the solid ache in my heart that hasn’t left in almost a week.
Opening the door I sucked in a breath of pure agony. My father’s warm hand around my shoulder a soft reminder that even if I felt abandoned, I wasn’t alone. Not by a long shot. And as the door clicks open, my hand finds the lights instinctually, and my eyes widen to dinner plates.
“Welcome home!” a chorus cheers and I laugh, all my of old friends circled around the end of the foyers hallway, wine glasses and soju bottles in hand. I can’t even speak as tears fill my eyes and the girls run to me, waving my father off. He kisses my hairline, tells me he'll text me when he gets home, and shuts the door as my friends cart me into the kitchen and wipe my tears and fix up my messy hair with giggles.
“Tonight!” One of my friends—eventually I source the drunken giggles to Ally, “we will make you so hot and sexy, he will regret it.”
“And if he comes crawling back!” It’s Mona now.
“We will rip his dick off!” Marija shouts and the girls raise shots to me.
“Guys—what is all of this?” I can’t help but laugh, and then the three look at each other and smile.
“So… you’ve heard of a revenge dress, right?” Ally says slowly, and it all clicks.
10 MARCH 2023 — INSTAGRAM
THENADINEHORNER MADE A NEW POST!
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liked by maxverstappen, charlesleclerc, christianhorner and 976k others..
thenadinehorner: ‘little black dress, who you doin it for?’ 🖤
tagged: monanotlisa, allycameragirl, marijaswrld
USER HAS LIMITED COMMENTS ON THIS POST.
maxverstappen: Is this that ‘hot girl era’ thing?
⤷ charlesleclerc: i think so.
monanotlisa: absolutely sexy. as per usual.
allycameragirl: FUCKKK UR HOT 🖤🖤
landonorris: one direction???
⤷ thenadinehorner: ofc you know it’s one direction.
⤷ landonorris: cannot tell if this is a compliment or not but thanks ?
marijaswrld: 🧎‍♀️ < me
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sc0tters · 9 months
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Behind Closed Doors | Trevor Zegras
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summary: you and Trevor have been in a FWB relationship for over a year, but what happens when he gets jealous during your families yearly trip to the lake house?
song: I Can See You - Taylor Swift
request: yes/no
warnings: jealous (and lowkey toxic Trevor), fwb relationship, mentions of sexual themes but nothing explicit.
word count: 1.54k
authors note: this is the first Hughes sibling piece that I have ever done! Trevor does honestly give me that toxic boy vibe sometimes so I’m hoping I’ve given it justice. if you want to see more or be apart of the 150 celly you can check the playlist out here!
pt2
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Everywhere you looked he was there.
Trevor had been apart of the steady stream of guests that the lake house had homed for the last week and a half. Usually you loved having your brothers friends there, most you had grown to call friends of yours to. But Trevor was different.
You had been a study at the university of California for the entire duration of your degree. Jack had asked the older boy to look out for you because he couldn’t stand the idea of his twin sister being all the way across the country.
Being the good best friend that Trevor was he fully took on the role making sure that he saw you at least once a week and if the Ducks were playing a weekend game at home then you were there. You two spent two years doing that, you’d watch the occasional girl walk in and out of his life and you couldn’t help but feel your heart full with sorrow. From the day you met Trevor you actually found him really irritating but on your fifteenth birthday when he simply said that you looked nice, it all changed. Suddenly he was no longer just Jacks friend and national teammate but he was now also cute.
Over the two years you were his usual plus one to team events to the point where you somehow cracked the nod to join the wags group chat. Despite both of your efforts to shut down those rumours it always fell on deaf ears as the team had actually made a bet on when you two would finally admit to it.
But of course that day never came, the day that did come though was the one where you two slept together. It was after a surprising Ducks win and when Trevor came over to celebrate you were in nothing more than your towel as you were about to hop in the shower. With a simple surge of confidence that you got when he was left speechless at the sight, you asked if he wanted to join.
That was over a year ago yet it was the start of a different stage in your relationship. Once you two toed the line of being something more than friends you two got addicted, thus throwing yourselves into the deep end of that pool headfirst.
It was nice, your needs were met in bed and Trevor never treated you like you were just his fuckbuddy. You were everything that girlfriend was, except you didn’t have the title and beyond the comfort of your dorm and his apartment you were clearly nothing more than a friend.
Your mind refused to see the red flags that your friends raised. Each time they did you would brush it off as you tried to explain that he kept you his little secret for the sakes of the relationship he had with Jack.
As much as you loved your brothers you knew that they would kill any boy they learnt was in your bed.
Somehow your friends convinced you to see where you really stood with Trevor though. The plan was intricate and detailed but your job was simple.
All you had to do was treat him how he treated you. It meant that you practically had to ignore him.
By day three you wanted to give up, you wanted to send him a text and tell to come to your room.
But with the thought of your friends killing you, it caused you to prevail. In a way it was actually not as hard as you thought it would be, not when Alex was practically attached to your hip “Al!” You let out a squeal as the boy tackled you into the pool.
Trevor watched the interaction with a scowl on his face. Was Alex the one that you were inviting to your room when everyone went to sleep? And since when were you two so close? It seemed like every time he wanted to talk to you Alex was with you, either on the end of your sun lounger, sharing your couch with you. Or Trevor’s least favourite how you would be sat on Alex’s lap as his hands laced around your waist as he whispered sweet nothings in your ear.
It irritated him how nonchalantly Jack reacted about the actions, how the Devils player even laughed when your head came up out of the water.
You shoved the boys arm as you sent him a playful glare “asshole,” you murmured as you shook your head.
Alex grinned as he pulled you into a hug “you love me.” He smiled as he rested his chin on your head.
If you had to describe the Kings player you would say he was nice. Alex’s personality deserved more of a description than what the bland word gave him but it was exactly how you felt around him. Quinn came out of the kitchen pulling everyone’s attention away from the pool “who is on the boat in ten?” He asked as he placed his hands on his hips. Through the stream of nods you shook your head “gonna take a shower,” you announced as you got out of the water smiling as your younger brother was quick to hand you a towel.
This was the moment Trevor needed “I gotta call my mom,” he lied as his eyes watched you make your way back into the house.
The chirps from the boys were met with silence as the Ducks player didn’t care, not when he was going to talk to you.
For Trevor the week had been hell, having to watch you walk around in your little bikinis and not being able to touch you was the worst. Yesterday he watched you eat a popsicle and swore that you were doing it all to screw with him. The way your lips wrapped around the flavoured ice was the same way your lips usually wrapped around his cock.
So naturally there was a slight pep in his step as he didn’t really care about the fact that all three of your brothers were still downstairs “mom?” You called out from your bathroom as you heard the door open.
It brought a laugh from Trevor’s lips “haven’t called me that before,” he teased as he leaned against the frame of your bathroom door.
Your eyes went wide as you looked at the boy “what are you doing here?” You asked as you crossed your arms.
It irritated you how calm he was being “missed you,” he confessed as he walked into the bathroom and sent you a smile “missed these,” he added as he let his finger run through the strap of your bikini.
The feeling sent shivers down your spine “took you a week to decide that?” You cocked your head as the boy moved his finger to the gap between the two cups of your bikini top as he pulled you closer to him.
Trevor gave you this look that made you weak in the knees “knew it from the first day,” it came to a surprise for the boy when you didn’t even get off of the couch to hug him when he arrived.
You were too engrossed in the game of Mario Kart that you had going with Cole to even bat an eyelash at the New York native.
His possessiveness put a smile on your face “you jealous?” You asked as you raked your fingers through the ends of his hair.
It was a move that made him melt, he loved it when you had your fingers in his hair “nope,” his lips popped as he shook his head “why should I be when I’m the one in here with you?” Trevor pointed out as he ran his thumb over your lip.
The comment caused you to frown “could have had Alex in here just as fast.” You mumbled as you tried to look at the ground.
Trevor didn’t let you though as he hooked his fingers under your jaw “you know he couldn’t give you what I can,” he warned as he softly squeezed your chin.
You almost wanted to laugh “and what is it that you can give me?” You batted your eyelashes at him.
The hockey player pecked your lips “the fucking world baby,” he explained as he smiled “now he a good girl and start the shower for me.” His voice was soft as he leaned over to turn your speaker on that immediately connected to his phone.
The request made you furrow your eyebrows “why?” You asked as you watch him pick the playlist that you had made one day when you were bored.
Trevor leaned down to your ear “would hate for your parents to hear what I have in mind for you,” it made your knees buckle as your back was pushed against the cold tile of your bathroom wall.
You were quick to nod “my good little girl,” he repeated those words as he kissed your neck before he watched you make your way to the shower to fulfil his request.
No matter how hard you tried, your relationship was always going to stay like this.
Only for your eyes,
Only behind closed doors.
767 notes · View notes
bellawoso · 2 months
Text
Would’ve, Could’ve, Should’ve
Alexia Putellas x fem!reader
Read part 1 : here
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Much to your Diego’s dismay, you did not end up calling Alexia, instead the jersey, adorned with a number that could change your life, was left screwed up at the back of your wardrobe.
You were going to call Alexia.
Until one of your other friends heard about it, and told you about the backlash and hate you would receive from some of Alexia’s devoted fans. In the end, you decided it wasn’t worth it, it was only a few years since you escaped your depressive cycle, you were not ever going to risk entering it again.
Truthfully, you regret ignoring Alexia, every time anyone hits on you, you always compare them to the blonde, Diego often calling you “pathetic” as you only spoke to her for 2 hours.
However, you realised that it’s too late to call her, and think of how weird the blonde would think you were if you called her a month later.
As once again you debated calling the midfielder, your door suddenly slammed open.
“¡Hola chica! Look I have tickets!”
As you inspected the tickets in Diego’s hand, your face contorted to one of disappointment;
England vs Spain tickets.
Fuck.
———————————————————————
Your England top had arrived just in time, you were going to wear a Spain one after Diego convinced you that you would be beaten up by the first Spaniard who saw you, you guess the England-Spain rivalry ran deep.
However, it felt a betrayal to your country to be clad in the red jersey, so you ordered one last minute, luckily you weren’t completely oblivious when it came to football, you knew of how Leah Williamson had captained England to a Euro’s victory.
So there you were, in blue denim shorts and your oversized Williamson Jersey almost reaching past your shorts.
It felt like you were cheating, which was stupid, you met Alexia for 2 hours, to push away the feeling of guilt you slipped on a jacket and made your way downstairs.
Diego only rolled his eyes, and sighed in disapproval at your jersey choice.
———————————————————————
Alexia was excited for her return which she had been informed of a month prior to the match, but everyone on the team had noticed a change in the captains mood.
Except only Jana knew the cause for her sudden sadness.
Alexia didn’t understand why your rejection stung so much, maybe it was because the two-time ballon d’or winner wasn’t used to it, or maybe it was because the whole two hours you were together, she had imagined a relationship with you. It felt too real, and she cursed herself for grieving something that never happened in the first place.
She pushed all of those thoughts to the side, and instead focused on the match ahead of her, it was only a friendly, but the idea of being able to hold the win over Lucy and Keira’s heads when they returned to Barcelona felt euphoric.
What she didn’t expect was to see you in the crowd, worse of all, in a Leah fucking Williamson jersey.
———————————————————————-
Spain were one nil down at half time. which was frustrating for Alexia, having to watch from the sidelines with promises of being brought on for the final 45 minutes, however as she stepped on the pitch, her attention was drawn to a white jersey, in a sea of red, only a few rows up.
You stuck out like a sore thumb, it was extremely hard to miss you. So when Alexia laid eyes on you, her heart stopped for a second, and the screams and cheers of the stadium became muffled sounds in her ears.
As you turn around to face Diego, Alexia can just make out the England captain’s last name on your back, bile rises to the Spaniard’s mouth and she quickly turns away.
A newfound determination to outdo the English Captain, to try prove to you that the only jersey you should be proud to wear should be hers.
Call it jealousy. Maybe. But whatever it was fuelled Alexia to score 2 more goals by the end of the match.
2-1 to Spain.
When you saw Alexia step out on the pitch, your breath immediately hitched in your throat, sending you into a coughing fit, which received a knowing chuckle from Diego.
“You fumbled amiga”
Honestly, you regretted teaching him some English slang, he used it against you constantly, and often laughed at himself after seeing you scowling.
When the match ended, Diego was quick to drag you to the stands, he was a big fan of Aitana Bonmati, and wanted her signature badly.
Although you were happy for him when the brunette midfielder came over to where you two were, you froze at seeing Alexia’s friend from the match, who was walking over with Aitana.
When Jana laid eyes on you, she knew what she had to do, she was quick to sprint off and get Alexia, who was talking to Lucy and Keira, and teasing them of the loss.
Alexia was no where near as nervous as you were, the blonde didn’t need to be, you rejected her, even though she was positive that you were returning her flirty comments at the past match.
The Spaniard was sure that you were in the wrong, you should feel guilty for leading her on, so she was quick to confront you when she saw you.
“You didn’t call, and I’m pretty sure I told you to wear better clothing colours”
You internally cringed at how straight to the point the blonde was, and couldn’t help but blush as she called you out for ignoring her.
“I’m sorry, I was nervous and by the time I felt ready to call, I figured it would be too late”
“I don’t know if I’m more upset about you didn’t call because you were nervous, or the fact that you have Leah Williamson’s name on your back”
“Get me a better one then” you replied, whilst looking down at her jersey and back at her with a grin.
Alexia quickly stripped off her jersey, as you took off yours too, luckily you wore a tank top under it, Alexia’s eyes quickly dropping to your exposed chest.
“Your not subtle you know?”
“Who said I was trying to be?” The blonde was quick to reply back.
You only chuckled in response, and slipped on Alexia’s jersey, doing a little spin “How do I look?”
“Beautiful, much better wearing the jersey you belong in”
You weren’t sure if Alexia truly meant that, or if her extremely forward words were due to English not being her first language, but either way your face flushed deep crimson in retaliation to her comment.
The click of a pen lid being taken off woke you from your trance, and you peered up at Alexia, who tugged you closer by your waist, and quickly scribbled down her number once again.
“Pot favor, call me this time, promise?”
“I promise Ale, I will even let you choose the colour scheme of my outfit when we go out” you quipped back with a smile.
With a smirk, the blonde midfielder threw the England jersey on the floor, and walked away to meet Jana so they could walk into the locker room together.
Diego quickly ran towards you, only to pick you up and swing you around.
“I told you she would want you amiga! Your a snack!”
“Diego please never call me that again”
“Shut up! You should be thanking me, with out me, she would have never re-given you her number”
———————————————————————
A/N : I am halfway through writing part 3 🤍
588 notes · View notes
81folklore · 7 months
Text
dress - SV5
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pairings: sebastian vettel x famous!reader (fc: taylor swift)
summary: its known that seb has been married for a few years now despite the public never seeing is wife, its also known that yn is in a committed relationship and has been since she disappeared from public eye. maybe they are more connected than people realise
authors note: i have had this idea on my mind for SO LONG so im very pleased to finally be writing it. essentially in this, yn is taylor and seb is joe but no one has ever seen him nor know his name, if that makes sense? honestly i have no clue how this will turn out but i needed to write it
authors note 2: this is set in the midnights era however i switched the songs a bit so ‘dress’ is on midnights instead of ‘sweet nothing’ and vice versa!! also ‘dress’ is going to be a single. i also apologize for how all over the place this is, especially the tweets
authors note 3: just pretend whatever says taylor swift says your name and the photos with her hands have a wedding ring!! i also got so confused when trying to screenshot the twitter stuff so the timeline ones are backwards
authors note 4??: haha didnt realise there was a 30 pic limit... pt 2 here :)
masterlist
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ynupdates
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liked by user3, user18 and 10,628 others
yn on her story today, possibly posting song lyrics! thoughts?
view comments
user3: NEW ERA INCOMING
user18: OH I AM SO READY FOR THIS
user13: NEW MUSIC NEW MUSIC
user66: is this hinting at her reputation era?
user13: i was just thinking this, more specifically the time just before reputation
user72: MUSIC ABOUT LOVER?? OH I AM SO HERE FOR IT
user55: if it is about lover and the time before reputation this will BREAK ME like,, HE SAW THE BEST IN HER EVEN IN HER WORST TIMES😭😭
yourusername
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liked by gracieabrams, ynupdates, olliebearman and 7,277,739 others
everyone thinks that they know us, but they know nothing about…
this album has been such a rewarding piece to create and im so glad that soon enough you will all be able to listen and enjoy it with me! one thing i love in particular about this album is the song ‘dress’
dress was originally a piece i started to write when making reputation however i felt it was right to keep it to myself, to keep it between my partner and i for a little while longer. however recently our lives have been changing for the better, and while that lid of privacy will still be on, i want to share more with you guys
you have all been on this journey with me and you have treated my partner and i with the upmost respect and for that i thank you. for me dress is a letter, its statement, its a declaration of my love for him and im very grateful to be able to give this to you all
this song is one im very proud of, i really enjoyed writing this the first time, and getting to revist and polish it up felt very special to do.
dress out now on all platforms🖤
comments on this post have been limited
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sebupdates
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liked by user34, user5, user88 and 23,683 others
seb in suzuka with the grid at his turn 2 bee (insect) hotels,, we've missed seeing him at the track :(
view comments
user3: of course the grid come together for him :’)
user5: im not crying!! just hay fever!!
user5: oh i have missed him SO MUCH
user7: NO BECAUSE YOU DONT GET IT HES BACK
user88: DID YOU GUYS SEE THE VIDEO OF HIM HUGGING CHARLES😭😭
user34: the way he was like a teacher throughout the whole thing😭
user18: does anyone know if hes staying the whole weekend or is it like monaco??
sebupdates: we believe hes staying the whole weekend but unsure if hes with a team or not!
user18: ok thank you :)
user77: the way the first thing lewis asked him was if his wife was okay, oh what if i cry😭😭
user66: im kind of new here, have the grid met sebs wife?
user77: i know they all at least know about her and know who she is, i dont think everyone has met her but i know lewis has met her quite a bit!!
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part 2!
1K notes · View notes
avatar-anna · 9 months
Text
Rumors
so...i've had this concept rattling around in my brain, but i had no idea how to write it, so i used pictures instead. i definitely want to do more, but tumnlr only allows 10 pictures a post, so here's to hoping i remember to come back to this in the future!
yourinstagram
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liked by taylorswift and 67,530 others
yourinstagram: had a very cool dude over today to make even cooler music
yoursistersinstagram: you let someone in the bat cave?!
y/nfan5: possible collab on the new album?
yourinstagram: more like i was helping someone with theirs ;))
harrystyles: Thank you for having me. X.
harryfan3: HARRY???
harryfan7: omgomgomgomgomg
y/nfan1: pls god let us have a harry and y/n collab on his next album i NEED it
harrystyles
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liked by gemmastyles, yourinstagram and 2,233,781 others
harrystyles: HS3. Coming soon.
harryfan8: NEW ALBUM ALERT
harryfan11: HARRY YOU CANT JUST DROP SOMETHING LIKE THAT WITHOUT A RELEASE DATE
harryfan4: this has to be what he was working on with y/n right?
y/nfan3: i need them both on a song together
yourinstagram: had fun late night talking with you xx
y/nfan9: i'm sorry wHAT
harryfan5: is this flirting this sounds like flirting
harryfan13: honestly...here for it
y/nupdates
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liked by harryfan7 and 4,320 others
y/nupdates: Y/n in a video for Vogue recently!
"A lot of people ask me how Harry Styles ended up recording at my house when we'd virtually never crossed paths before. It was actually Taylor (Swift) who kind of set the whole thing up. They spoke at the Grammys last year and she apparently gave him my number so we could work together...He called and asked if I was available to help with his album at all. At the time I was on the road, then working on stuff for the band, and it just kind of went back and forth for a few months while we tried to line up our schedules. Then I was done touring, but I was kind of in a weird state in life where I didn't want to leave the house or hang out with anyone. And I remember making up excuses because I wasn't really up to making myself presentable to a whole team of people I'd never met before and having our first meeting be this huge thing. I'd basically built it all up in my head about how our ideas would clash and we wouldn't get along and I just kept telling him maybe some other time. Long story short, Harry showed up at my place a week later by himself with just a guitar, a notebook, and my favorite takeout order. We spent the whole day together working on a bunch of different stuff from themes to genres of music to sampling and mixing. And writing. Lots and lots of writing. And now he's a dear friend. He's so sweet and so talented. I wish him all the best with the new album."
y/nfan8: ok i'm glad it worked out and everything but imagine a virtual stranger showing up to your HOUSE?? like she said no and he basically forced her to write his album for her
y/nfan4: that's so real of her tbh to not want to leave her house
y/nfan2: y/n is notoriously introverted it makes sense
harryfan13: girl...
y/nfan7: i don't think it was that serious. and if she really didn't want him there she could've said no
harryfan13: and y/n literally called him a friend?? stop trying to start shit that doesn't exist
y/nfan7: of COURSE mother brought them together
harryfan17: i can't believe that's what harry and taylor were talking about in the video!
harryfan2: chill harry doesn't need to be in a relationship with every woman he's associated with
harryfan4: wait but wasn't y/n at that grammys too?
harryfan9: it was still covid it's possible their paths didn't cross
y/nfan19: wait what if he was too shy to go up to her??😭
harryfan4: i love that they're writing besties now but i think they'd be so cute together 🥹
hsupdates
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liked by harryfan4 and 10,343 others
hsupdates: Harry about Y/n L/n for Rolling Stone:
"I've always admired (Y/n's) work. She and her band are incredibly talented, and are just so passionate about creating music. I wanted that same energy for my third album, the freedom to make whatever I want without any reservations, and I knew Y/n was the perfect addition to the team. It took some convincing, but once we kind of got started, we couldn't stop. As we've gotten to know each other these past few months, I not only respect her as a musician, but for the person she is as well. Her soul is one of a kind, and I feel like my album would be so different without her on it. So now not only do I have an album that I'm proud of and love, but I got an extraordinary friend out of it too."
harryfan9: so this is what people mean when they say platonic soulmates
y/nfan12: all we've gotten is crumbs and i'm already in love with their friendship. and the album of course
y/nfan2: i'm so interested to hear this album now. if y/n is on it it has to be good
harryfan3: "her soul is one of a kind?" if that's harry as a friend i don't think i can handle boyfriendrry😭
y/nfan7: i'm holding out hope for them honestly🤞🏼🤞🏼
liked by harrystyles and 23,724 others
yourinstagram
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yourinstagram: you've fallen from the sky down to me, i see it in your face, i'm relief, i'm your summer girl
y/nfan17: shut up are those song lyrics??
yourbandinstagram: the tears behind your dark sunglasses, the fears inside your heart as deep as gashes🎶🎶
y/nfan17: HOLY SHIT those ARE lyrics!
y/nfan6: haven't even heard the song and i know the girls have done it again
harryfan4: could it...could it be about harry?
y/nfan8: you're grasping at straws
harryfan12: are they? they've been spotted together all over LA
harrystyles: ☀️☀️
y/nfan8: as friends. friends can hang out can't they?
harryfan3: new music from harry AND y/n? we're about to be fed y'all
harryfan10: THEY REALLY ARE BESTIES
y/nfan2: i bet they collaborated on this song together
Interviewer (I): What's one memory or experience you can share from making this album? Any trips to Japan or Jamaica?
Harry (H): We stayed in Los Angeles mostly for this one. But erm...in terms of a specific memory...I would say that while I was working with Y/n, one of the tracks was actually inspired by her cat.
I: Really?
H: Yeah. Whenever it did something to annoy Y/n, which was quite often, she'd call her a little freak. The song's obviously not about the cat, but the phrase was in my head and yeah. Things just kind of...snowballed from there.
I: The sound that Y/n's band has is more rock centric, a similar sound to your first album. Is that what we can expect for your third studio album?
I: You've become quite close to Y/n L/n it seems like.
H: Not necessarily. Y/n and I collaborated, but she also let me take the reins in terms of sound. She had opinions of course and we would bounce ideas off of each other...but she really just followed my lead and supported the vision I had. She is playing a majority of the instruments on the album, though.
H: It's hard not to.
I: How so?
I: It sounds like you could go on for quite some time about her.
H: She's just cool, you know? I was kind of intimidated when we met for the first time. She's quiet, but you never forget that she's in the room, you just want to go over and talk to her. Of course once you meet her she's incredibly kind and not at all intimidating, but still like chill and stuff. The first time we met we sat for an hour just talking about music we enjoyed and live shows we wanted to attend and things we learned while in lockdown. She's just effortlessly cool. An old soul, I guess. And somehow she translates that into her music. Her sisters, too. They're all just first-rate musicians.
H: Sorry. I kind of gushed for a minute there.
H: And the band. They're just so talented, you know?
harrystyles
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liked by jeffazoff and 4,211,323 others
harrystyles: From start to finish, making this album has been such an incredible journey. It was so fun to try new things sonically while also making something that I'm one hundred percent proud of. I've never felt more myself while making music than I did while creating this album for all of you, and I have so many people to thank for that. Hopefully you know who you are. I love, love, love you.
harryfan16: 😭😭😭😭😭
harris_reed: little angel👼
harryfan3: WE'RE SO PROUD OF YOU
yourinstagram: congratulations h. you deserve it.💐💐💐
harrystyles: I couldn't have done it without you💐
yourinstagram
liked by yourbandinstagram and 53,089 others
yourinstagram: for one night and one night only...but in all seriousness shout out to my friend and his incredible album. happy to have been a part of the magic :)))
harryfan13: HAPPY HARRY DAY!!!
harryfan4: is she in ny??
y/nfan7: yes! she was spotted with harry before the show today
harryfan9: they're literally so cute i love their friendship
harrystyles: You made the magic happen. Thank you for everything. X.
harryfan3: they're so...
y/nfan2: i genuinely think they like fucking with us bc i legitimately can't tell if they're dating or not
y/nfan7: at this point i don't even care i love whatever they're doing they both just seem so happy to be besties/lovers/collaborators and i love that for them
harryfan5: ^^
y/nupdates
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liked by harryfan10 and 3,742 others
y/nupdates: Y/n performing Keep Driving onstage with Harry in NYC tonight at ONO!
y/nupdates: When he introduced her, he said: "Tonight is special in a lot of ways. I'm sharing my album with you for the first time, my family's here, my friends are here, and...a very good friend of mine is here to play a song with me tonight. This album wouldn't have been possible without her, so please give her as much love as you've given me. Y/n L/n, everybody!"
harryfan4: stop they're so close it hurts😭
y/nfan7: i was there they were staring at each other and smiling the whole time!
harryfan12: that's the one where he says choke her with a sea view!?
y/nfan7: YES AND I SWEAR HIS SMILE GOT BIGGER WHEN HE SANG THAT PART AND LOOKED AT HER LIKE HE FULLY HAD TO TURN AROUND TO LOOK AT HER BC SHE WAS PLAYING THE DRUMS
harryfan3: i'm choosing to believe they're in love idc what anyone else says
hs/ynupdates
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hs/ynupdates: Harry, Y/n, and her sisters in New York after ONO tonight! Apparently Harry and Y/n were standing and walking very close to each other. Like arms wrapped around each other close.
harryfan2: that could literally mean anything tho. they're good friends why wouldn't they walk next to each other?
y/nfan14: i feel like they don't know if they're dating or not at this point😅
y/nfan8: her sisters are so unserious i love it
y/nfan5: i love that they all showed up for harry🥹
yourbandinstagram
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liked by taylorswift, harrystyles and 710,225 others
yourbandinstagram: Thanks for having us, London!
y/nfan1: i can't believe i got to see harry and y/n perform in ONE NIGHT
harryfan3: sending my love and my tears to everyone who got to experience this historic night
harrystyles: Thank you for taking the time to share the stage with me. X.
yourbandfan2: how do y'all always look so good 😭
I: So you opened for Harry Styles a few weeks ago and performed a song with him in New York.
Y/n: My sisters and I did, yeah.
I: How did that come about? Did your team call his team? Or was it more casual than that?
Y/n: Oh, definitely more casual. I think we were just hanging out together one morning and he kind of just suggested it. No bells and whistles or anything like that.
I: So can we expect (Your band) to join Harry on his upcoming tour, then?
Y/n: I don't think so. We're working on putting out a record of our own at the moment, but we do want to get back out on the road soon, but I will definitely be attending more of his shows in the future.
I: And what can we expect from this upcoming record? Did Harry help you the way you helped him out?
Y/n: I've sent him a couple things to listen to, and I value his opinion a lot, both as a friend and as an artist. He also showed me a couple records recently which kind of influenced how I approached some of the songs sonically. He's got a huge vinyl collection at his house. I'm honestly kind of jealous.
I: There's been some rumors running around that you and Harry are in a romantic relationship. Would you like to put any of those rumors to rest?
Y/n: I could see where people might think that. Harry's very affectionate by nature, and over the last couple of months we've become very close. He's not just someone I admire in the music industry, but as a person in general. I feel incredibly lucky to call him a friend. And a close one, at that.
I: So just a friend then?
Y/n: Yeah. Yeah, just a friend.
913 notes · View notes
sprinkler-ashes · 8 months
Text
the great war // aaron hotchner x reader
aaron hotchner x fem!reader
words: 5.5k
description: in which aaron hotchner thinks you’re hot-headed. inspired by the great war by taylor swift.
warnings: angst w/ a happy ending, one (1) steamy car makeout, cursing, typical cm violence depictions
a/n: long time no see, and i’m sorry about that. to make a long story short, summer was very awful on me; i had a breakup and am now back in school + drowning in work. I love this fic so much; it’s probably my favorite i’ve ever written and i hope you love it too <3 also!!! if you have a request for a fic to a song, please send it my way! taylor swift is my go-to, but i am open to any song request <3
you drew up some good faith treaties
i drew curtains closed, drank my poison all alone
you said i have to trust more freely
but diesel is desire, you were playin' with fire
You should have known better than to date someone you worked with. No, actually, you should have known better than to date, of all people, your boss.
Date was a loose term.
You weren’t really sure when the lines between co-workers blurred into friendship and when friendship blossomed into early morning coffee dates and late evenings in the office together doing paperwork, and even later nights spent at dinner tables being hours deep into conversation. You knew it hadn’t happened out of nowhere. This thing between the two of you had been building up for years – years of pining.
There was a voice in the back of your head telling you that it was all too good to be true, but you pushed it back as far as you could. Besides, the two of you hadn’t even called it dating, but it sure did feel like it.
But it hadn’t felt like that in a really long time.
Aaron had put a stop to whatever was going on four months ago. He had given you some bullshit excuse that he was your boss, it was wrong of him to be doing whatever the two of you were doing with his subordinate — blah, blah – but you had stopped listening when your heart became so heavy you thought it was going to physically weigh you down.
You had been through breakups before, even some serious ones, but nothing had ever felt like this. 
You tried to stop him, but he was also a man who had made his mind up; it was impossible to get through to him that you didn’t want to end it.
So you went back to work acting like nothing had happened. And it was about to be the death of you.
However, you were a professional. It’s not like the team even knew about you and Aaron. You acted the same as always when you were at work. No one suspected anything because no one knew what you were going through.
You didn’t talk to Aaron unless you had to. Truthfully, you hadn’t spoken to him for anything that wasn’t work-related since he basically dumped you on a random Wednesday evening for reasons you couldn’t fathom, but that didn’t mean you didn’t try.
In the beginning, you tried reaching out. You called, you texted him a couple of times, and you had even been so desperate one night that you sent him an email. Each time, you were met with rejection, and him saying something along the lines that both of you should just forget about everything.
So you did by cutting all contact. You thought to yourself, I’ll show him, but it really did nothing. If it bothered him, he never showed it.
It seemed like nothing bothered him until now. A whole whopping four months later.
“Not only did you blow our cover, but you walked into a hostage situation with no weapon to defend yourself; you didn’t even strap a vest on. You are lucky that no one died or was seriously injured.” Aaron wasn’t yelling – he was actually just slightly an octave below yelling – but it sure as hell sounded like he was screaming because his voice had never been like this towards you.
You frowned, not liking the way he was calling you out in front of everyone – in front of a group of people that you greatly admired and respected. “What else was I supposed to do, Hotch? If I hadn’t gone in there, that woman would have died. I was trying to save her life.”
“Save her life?” he asked incredulously. “From the moment you burst through those doors, you put her in even more danger than she was already in. Not only could she have died, but you also could have.”
“Why are you giving me so much shit over this?” you asked, throwing your hands up in anger, not paying attention to the awkward glances your team was giving each other. “I’m not the only one who's done this, and I won’t be the last. I don’t care to risk my life trying to save someone else. I’m sorry that I blew everyone’s cover, but I won’t apologize for saving her.”
Aaron shook his head, his demeanor that was normally unreadable was completely gone. “You’re on probation, effectively immediately-”
“What? I, Hotch-”
“You will not physically assist in any cases for the next two weeks. You will still travel to cases, but you will work directly from the police department. You will not be allowed to go in the field.”
He kept talking, his mouth moving a mile a minute listing off all the things you were allowed to do and what you couldn’t do, but you couldn’t focus on anything he was saying. You were so tempted to slap your boss across the face and if it wouldn’t have technically been workplace harassment, you probably would have.
“Hotch, we’ve all made mistakes,” Derek Morgan said. “No one ended up hurt tonight. With all due respect, I think a two week probation is a little harsh.”
You wanted to thank Derek for sticking up for you, but you couldn’t form words at that moment. Your feet were on the move faster than you could even think as they took you to the SUV that you’d arrived in, not wanting to hear Aaron talk to Derek about you. All you wanted to do was get on the jet, leave the small Arkansas town you were in, get back to Quantico, and try to stop thinking about Aaron Hotchner.
Unfortunately, that wasn’t as easy as you liked to think.
You rode back to the hotel with Emily and JJ, who had let you sit in the front seat, and didn’t dare look either of them in the eye. Emily tried to make small talk to lighten the mood, but you could barely even think about anything other than your probation and the way that Aaron had talked to you in front of everyone. She eventually took the hint, and the three of you rode back to the hotel in silence.
You finally turned to Emily once the SUV came to a stop. “Do you know if we’re leaving tonight or in the morning?” Normally, if you finished a case late, you always preferred to spend the night in the hotel in order to get some rest, but there was nothing you wanted more than to just go home now.
“Uh, tonight,” Emily said with a grimace. “Sorry, I know you usually hate leaving immediately after.”
You shook your head. “Not this time. I don’t think I’ve ever wanted to go home more than I do right now.”
Emily eyed you up and down, taking in your slumped, exhausted body. Her eyes flickered up to the mirror, catching JJ’s eye who was giving an equally worried look. “Do you want to talk-”
“Not right now, Emily,” you interrupted. “I’m going to pack my stuff up. Can you send me a text when it’s time to go?”
Emily looked like she wanted to say more, but she didn’t, sensing you obviously didn’t want to talk about it right now. “Yeah, I’ll let you know.”
“Thanks,” you mumbled. “See you guys soon.” With that, you were out of the SUV before either of them could unbuckle their seatbelts and on your way to the entrance of the hotel you were staying in along with the rest of the team.
Typically, you shared a room with someone, but luckily for you, it was your turn to get your own this time, which you couldn’t have been more thankful for when you swiped your keycard and finally got to be alone for a minute.
You knew that Emily meant well. She had been one of your closest friends since you had joined the team. You felt a tinge of guilt at how closed off you had been to her in the car when she was just trying to make sure you were okay. However, you really weren’t okay, and you really didn’t want Emily to know the full extent of what was going on.
After hastily packing your things and grabbing a quick shower, you received a text from Emily that it was time to go. On your way down to the lobby to meet her, it was finally setting in that you were, quite literally, exhausted. You’d been awake since before daylight and a quick glance at the time shining on your phone reminded you that you had been awake for nearly seventeen hours.
You rode with Emily, JJ, and Rossi to board the jet, but ended up napping the entire short duration of the drive. Truthfully, you hadn’t even realized you’d fallen asleep until Rossi had nudged you awake.
When you were finally in the air, you allowed yourself to catch a glance at your infuriating boss who was still, as usual, in his suit with his tie and jacket discarded, writing in a file.
Probably writing me up, you bitterly thought to yourself. You knew you had done a not-very-smart thing, but by the time you figured out that the original plan the team came up with wasn’t going to work, it was too late. If you hadn’t darted through the door and startled the unsub, the poor woman who was taken hostage was going to meet a very similar fate that four other women faced.
You could admit that it was a rash, last minute decision, but you didn’t regret it. You saved a woman’s life and helped capture an awful man who would have never stopped if not caught. It felt like Aaron was punishing you for something that wasn’t the decision you made tonight. Two weeks on probation felt a little extreme to you.
Twenty minutes into the flight, Derek, Rossi, and JJ were already asleep while Emily looked like she was close to following. Spencer was nursing what you thought was his second coffee in the short time on the jet, a pair of headphones in as he watched something on the tablet he had propped up.
That left only you and Aaron sitting in silence.
This had been a particularly hard case that had to be solved in under seventy-two hours in order to prevent any more victims since you, with the help of Spencer, figured out that the unsub operated on stalking and kidnapping his victims on a specific schedule. Hardly anyone had gotten much sleep in an attempt to solve the case as soon as possible – hence why nearly everyone was asleep.
Aaron finally spoke after nearly fifty minutes into the flight from his seat in front of you after Emily and Spencer had finally drifted off, though you weren’t sure how Spencer was even sleeping considering he had downed two coffees. “You should get some rest.”
“Don’t worry about me,” you said bitterly, keeping your eyes straight ahead. “I’ll be getting lots of rest in the next two weeks considering I can’t really do anything else on probation, so thanks, but I’m good.” The words were tumbling out before you could even comprehend what you’d said. In a normal situation, you’d be worried that speaking to your boss like that would result in its own consequences but considering you were already on probation, what was the harm?
He said nothing.
It was nine days into what felt like the most excruciatingly long probation known to man, and you still had five more days to go.
You had just gotten back from a case in Maine where you, unfortunately, barely got to do anything other than help out at the police station. In addition, you had to finish several online modules assigned to you by Strauss on safety in the field, which was, in your opinion, ridiculous considering you had been at the BAU for a good amount of time – long enough to know all about safety in the field.
“I think I’ve gone past the point of exhaustion,” Emily said as you came off the elevator as she stifled a yawn. “Is that a real thing?”
“Yes, my beautiful friend who I am so happy to see. That means you need to get home and rest.”
Penelope Garcia was there to greet you at the elevator, a warm smile lighting up her face as she gave Emily a hug then turned to you. “How are you doing?”
“I’ll be fine in five days when this stupid probation is over,” you told Penelope, watching her give you a sympathetic smile.
“I’m heading out, but you have my number if you need me,” she told you with a comforting pat to your arm. “Goodnight ladies.”
Penelope was on the elevator to leave as you and Emily, after waving off Penelope, filed off to your desks to pack up to go back to your apartments.
“Got a hot date tonight?” Emily asked jokingly.
You laughed and shook your head. “Haven’t had a hot date in a long time. What about you?”
It was true. The last date you had been on was four months ago with the man who also happened to be your boss and who also happened to be your number one enemy right now.
“Just with Sergio.”
You and Emily were already on your way out to leave for the night officially until you stopped in your tracks when you reached the elevator. “Ugh, I just realized I left my phone charger at my desk. You can go on without me.”
“You sure? I don’t mind waiting,” she said as she stepped into the elevator.
You nodded. “Go on; it’s late. Have a good night, Emily.”
A huff left your mouth as you turned back on your heel to walk back to your desk. Your hands grasped the charger laying under several files that you (probably) needed to look at, but tonight was not the night for that.
However, you realized it was definitely not your night at all when you tried to turn your car on, only to be met with a sound of spluttering.
“Not tonight,” you groaned, repeatedly trying to turn your key to start the engine, but the car never started, much to your luck. “Are you serious right now?”
Your car was by no means brand new, but it was a good car and not often did it give you problems. Except for tonight. Or in other words, the one night you desperately wanted to go home, take a shower, and go to bed.
You weren’t really sure of your options. You could probably call Emily. She couldn’t have gotten too far down the road. Maybe she could give you a ride since her apartment was on the way to your place. Another option was calling an Uber, but –
Your car door opening knocked you out of your train of thought. Your brain immediately went into fight-or-flight, and you chose fight as your hands instinctively reached for the pepper spray on your key ring.
“Hey! It’s just me.”
It was Aaron with his hands outstretched into a surrender position, his suit jacket hanging from the crease where his arm bent. “Why are you sitting in the parking lot in the dark with your car unlocked? Do you know how easy it would be for someone to-”
“Come up and kidnap me? Yeah, I learned all about it in my online safety training this past week as if I didn’t already know,” you sassed with an eye roll. “I think my battery is dead. I usually keep jumper cables in here, but I cleaned my car out last week and must have taken them out. I’m probably going to have to call an Uber.”
You didn’t know why you were telling him all of this. The small voice in the back of your head knew why, but you weren’t willingly to actively think about it. You had enough on your plate right now.
“I’ll give you a ride home.”
“Like hell you will,” you told him.
“You do know I’m your boss, and you technically can’t speak to me like that?”
“You won’t fire me. You'll just put me on probation.”
He paused, his eyes closing momentarily before opening them again and going back to his stoic demeanor as usual. “Let me drive you home, so I will know that you got home safely. Please.”
You wanted to say no, but it was late and getting a ride home from Aaron meant that you didn’t have to bother Emily or lose money on an Uber. The only thing you’d be losing, in your opinion, was what little dignity you had left when it came to Aaron.
It’s just a ride home, you told yourself in your head.
“Fine.” You had admitted defeat. “Give me a second.”
He turned his back to you and started to walk away from your car. When you knew for sure he couldn’t see you, you positioned the rearview mirror so you could see yourself in it. Before you could stop yourself, you attempted to fix your hair as nicely as possible and then took a moment to stop what you were doing. You scoffed at yourself and shook your head.
“What is wrong with me?” You asked yourself aloud. “He doesn’t care. Neither do you.”
However, after you grabbed your things, you did sneak one more look in the mirror before getting out of your car and locking it. You were glad when you took another look to see Aaron not looking in your direction. 
 You made your way over to Aaron’s signature parking spot, the same one he parked in every morning, and met him there, his hands typing something out on his phone until he noticed your presence.
Without missing a beat, he opened the passenger door for you. You wanted to tell your heart to stop when that familiar flutter came back like it used to all those months ago. You opened your mouth, but he stopped you before you could say anything.
“No need for a remark. I’m just opening the door for you.”
“I was going to say thanks.”
A ghost of a smile danced across his face as he shut the door. It was so quick if you weren’t paying attention then you wouldn’t have seen it.
Your eyes adjusted to the interior of Aaron’s car, déjà vu hitting you from the first time you were ever in his car. But you forced those thoughts back down with a grimace and a reminder of how that ended the first time.
With one hand gripping the wheel and the other holding onto the back of your seat as his torso turned, eyes watching behind as he backed out, you thought you were going to throw up. Not because you were sick, but because Aaron was so damn attractive in doing the simplest things like backing up a car.
“You can turn on the radio if you want,” Aaron told you. “Your cord is still in here.”
You bit your lip, eyes locking onto the green cord still plugged in. “I’ve been looking for that everywhere. I had to buy a new one for my car.”
Back when you were frequently with Aaron, and he was typically the designated driver when you went places, you often complained about the lack of music in his car. He only listened to whatever was on the radio. He had no CDs nor did he have an AUX cord, claiming something about never being in his personal car long enough to deal with music in it.
After that day, you put your AUX cord in his car the next time you were in it and controlled the music, often giving him a performance to your favorite songs in the car as he drove. Aaron never complained like a lot of guys would. Instead, he would watch you belt a heartbreak ballad with an amused smile.
But that was months ago. And things were much different now.
“I would’ve given it back to you, but it’s slipped my mind. Feel free to take it with you.”
The happy memories that the AUX cord brought back were pushed to the back of your head again at his words. He told you to take it because there was no point in it anymore. You two were done.
You didn’t plug the cord into your phone. You didn’t play a song. You sat in the terrible silence, wishing it wasn’t silent like before, but it was silent, and Aaron was acting like nothing was wrong. 
Another awkward moment passed as he kept driving, the route to where you lived engraved as he had driven there many times. Aaron didn’t have to ask you where you lived because he knew. He knew from all the late nights he dropped you back off. The thought of all the previous times you’d been on this exact same drive under different circumstances made your head hurt.
“Why did you put me on probation?” The words slipped out before you could stop them.
“You know why I put you on probation. You comprised the safety of yourself, the team, and-”
“I compromised the safety of myself, the team, and the victim, yes, I know, but you put me on a two week probation when I can name off countless times that others on the team have done worse and didn’t get put on a two-week probation,” you argued back. “I know I messed up, but at the end of the day, it feels like you’re punishing me for something.”
He nodded, his eyes staying trained on the road. “I am punishing you for something, and that something is compromising-”
“I swear if you say compromise one more time-”
“Compromising your safety and the safety of others.”
You didn't say anything. Your arms were crossed as you looked out the window and into the dark as objects moved past you, reaching closer to your destination.
Aaron spoke your name, but you didn’t want to look at him.
“What?”
“Look at me,” he said as the car came to a stop at a redlight.
You reluctantly looked over, not prepared to see him already looking at you. You swallowed, trying to keep your gaze on him.
“I’d rather you be angry with me than even thinking about the possibility of you getting hurt.”
You couldn’t speak even if you wanted to because he kept going.
“When I saw you run into that warehouse, it was one of the only times in my life that I have been so scared that I couldn’t think straight. I put you on probation because you did something reckless. All of us outside thought we lost you when we heard the gunshots. I know you and a few others thought probation was too harsh, but it’s important for you to know that if you’re going to storm a hostage situation, you have to communicate with us. The team cannot lose you,” Aaron told you, his eyes never leaving yours. “I can’t lose you. Understood?”
You were pretty sure that at this point your voice was gone. You simply nodded.
The light turned green, and Aaron started driving again, his eyes finally breaking contact. “Finish out your probation next week and then put it behind you.”
There were no more words spoken. It was silent. You didn’t know how to respond to anything he had just said to you.
Except you did have one question. You weren’t even sure if you wanted the answer to it.
“If you can’t lose me,” you started, fiddling with the sleeve of your top, “then why did you end things?”
“It was for the best,” Aaron said, breaking your heart all over again. “I’m your boss-”
“You being my boss didn’t seem to be a problem when your mouth was on mine every time you dropped me off from dinner.”
He didn’t seem to have an answer for that. You sat smugly in your seat waiting for him to say something.
“You want the truth?”
“I’ve only been asking you for the truth for four months now,” you shot back.
“I fell in love with you.”
Aaron said it so casually that you had to do a double take, your mouth slightly opening. Out of all the things he could’ve said, you did not in a million years think that would be it. Your heart was pounding, and there was a moment where you thought that you had imagined him saying that he fell in love with you, but he really did say it.
He continued. “I thought it was best to end what was going on between us because things would’ve only escalated, and I didn’t want people to think negatively about you. You’re a strong woman in a male-dominated field. You’ve worked hard to get to where you are. You should be taken seriously and unfortunately, going out with your boss doesn’t look good on paper. I hurt you, and I’m truly sorry for that.”
You hadn’t even realized it when Aaron had finally pulled up to the huge parking lot of your apartment building, which was surprisingly vacant for a Thursday night. The words he’d said were dancing around in your head. You hadn’t done anything wrong. It felt like a weight had been lifted off your shoulders.
Even after everything, all you really wanted was him.
“Aaron,” you said as you turned to him when he put the car in park, “I mean this with all due respect, but that’s not just your decision to make. I should get a say. I wish you had told me because for the last four months I’ve been going crazy with overthinking. That’s why it hurt so much when you put me on probation. I thought you were punishing me for something between us. Please don’t shut me out because I’m in love with you, and quite frankly, I don’t give a shit about what people say about me.”
“But people will talk about you-”
“So?”
“And there’s also Strauss-”
“Who we can deal with. I’m not afraid of Erin Strauss,” you cut him off again.
He raised his eyes before you spoke again. “Okay, maybe I’m slightly afraid of her, but that doesn’t change anything. You don’t choose who you fall in love with. If people want to talk about me for being in love, then let them. I just want to be with you, so please stop trying to protect me. I can handle anything.”
“Okay,” Aaron said after a minute. “Okay. If you want to do this, there is a lot to discuss work-wise.”
“That’s fine. I have a lot of time to discuss things. I’m on probation.” 
Every other time you had brought up your probation, it had been with anger, but this time, there was only a grin on your face. Even though you were still mad about that damn probation, which was another conversation for another time, you figured you might as well make a joke out of it.
Aaron couldn’t keep a straight face. “Yes, you are for five more days. You still have one more module on safety in the field to complete.”
“Screw you,” you said half-jokingly.
“You wish,” he shot right back.
“You’re damn right I do.”
It was as if there was a shift in the air. You’d spent four months without him and in that moment you had decided you never really wanted to go another second without him. There was still a lot to talk about between the two of you, but for now, all you really wanted to do was kiss him.
Even when the two of you were “seeing” each other, or whatever it was, there wasn’t much physical affection. Aaron always kissed you before dropping you off at night, but it was always short, sweet, and simple. Tonight, you didn’t want short, sweet, and simple as your goodbye kiss.
“You should be getting in. It’s late,” he told you, but neither of you made an effort to move. In fact, it felt like you had only gotten closer. You could feel Aaron’s breath fan your face.
You leaned even closer, your face only inches from his. “You gonna tell me goodnight?”
Aaron never replied, only moving to close the small gap between the two of you, his lips pressing against yours in a way that almost felt desperate.
You were the one to take it a step further as your mouth opened wider and one of your hands slid up to rest on his shoulder. Aaron gladly took the hint. His tongue was in your mouth and before you could process it, one hand had moved to cup your face while the other rested on your thigh.
He pulled back for a moment, but only to mess with something under his seat. You gave him a confused look, still breathing heavily. “What are you doing?”
Aaron’s seat had scooted back further to open more room between him and the steering wheel, and you realized what he was doing now. He simply shrugged. “The console is in the way.”
With that, you laughed and maneuvered yourself across the center console that Aaron seemed to hate at the moment. His hands instinctively grabbed your waist in an attempt to help you move over and onto him – literally.
You took in your current situation for a moment. You were straddling Aaron Hotchner in his car in a parking lot. If you had told yourself earlier in the morning that this is where you would be, you would not have believed it.
His lips were back on yours before you could think about anything else, hands still gripping your waist while yours moved to his hair. You were pressed against him, your chest to his, and left no room between the two of you.
“This okay?” He mumbled as his warm hands snaked underneath your shirt, now resting on your bare hips. He pressed a kiss to your jaw while you nodded, a deep breath leaving your mouth. He smiled against your jaw before reattaching his lips again, but this time to your neck.
You couldn’t think of the last time you felt like this. Your body felt like it was literally on fire, and Aaron’s mouth wasn’t doing anything to extinguish that fire – only making it worse.
As much as you loved the hot, open-mouthed kisses to your neck, you cupped his face, guiding him back up to your lips. Your hands slid to tangle in his hair, earning you a throaty sound from him, which only encouraged you further as you smiled against his lips before going back to kissing him.
Aaron pulled back only a few seconds later, both of you breathing heavily in a hot and flustered state. “As much as I’m enjoying this, we probably shouldn’t get too carried away in here.”
“What? Car sex isn’t on your bucket list?” You joked.
He laughed as you leaned into the hand cupping your face. “You deserve better than a car the first time.”
“So what I’m hearing is car sex after the first time?”
Aaron gave you one of his rare grins, and it lit up your entire world. “You are impossible.”
“I’m just kidding,” you said, giving him a peck on the cheek. “I really should be getting in the bed. My boss is making me come in at eight-thirty tomorrow for a meeting.”
“Oh really? He sounds very smart.”
You playfully rolled your eyes and with the help of Aaron, you moved back over to the passenger seat. “I will see you bright and early in the morning.”
“Looking forward to it.”
You gave him one last kiss before gathering your bag and opening the car door. “Goodnight, Aaron.”
“Goodnight,” he told you.
You shut the door and with a smile on your face, waved to him one last time before making your way towards the entrance of your apartment building.
However, before you could get very far, you heard Aaron’s voice calling your name. You turned around to see him with his window down.
“Did I forget something?” You called to him and watched confusedly as he shook his head.
“Your hair looked fine earlier. You didn’t have to fix it just for me.”
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