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#great shot mwah
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Asia Kate Dillon in costume as Lucifer backstage at a performance of The Mysteries
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ana is just good
yeah yeah, my sapphic heart adores ana, and of course she’s my favourite character... however despite my questionable aiming skills, moira being a leech healer (and thus something i love in all games), and other support characters being flashier/having more to do, i’ve come to realize ana is the character that just feels the best to play as for me.
number one, she has a scope, (which is something i always take for granted in video games but holy moly does my brain ever and always need it) always a plus.
second, her scoped shots are hitscan. i don’t have to concentrate on any physics, just click and bam.  yeah yeah her regular shots aren’t hitscan, that’s fine, it’s fine, the hitscan is there in the best place where it’s supposed to be.
probably most importantly, her shots have SOUND to confirm if you’ve hit someone, enemy and friend alike.  My brain deletes a LOT of information and glazes over things, and i don’t know if this one in particular is a more recent thing but i have a hard time telling if i’ve hit something or not from visuals alone in vidya gaemz and even if i sorta know i’ve hit something, unless there’s some sort of feedback other than the curser being over the target, I’ll always doubt I hit and won’t know when i’ve missed. Ana’s darts/ammo have a lil “ploink” sound to them when they’ve hit a player, and then for the damage or healing over time applied by a single shot, after the ploink comes a slight low “vwoop” to signal the heal/harm effect.  This registers in my brain better than any other hero’s shots and allows me to not waste time or ammo holy fffffffffffffffffffrickafrack.
she gets no bonuses from headshots.  hit any part of the body and it applies the same amount of damage/healing. 
i love sniper-healer old egyptian lady solid snake mom.
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woozi · 2 years
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I love when you include a gif showing your colour correction it’s my fav thing ever. Like sometimes the originals are a HATE CRIME
they really turn em either into lil ghosts or semi-shreks what is going oNNNNN 😭
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avis-writeshq · 7 months
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01 — better than revenge
summary: “she’s not a saint, no, she’s not what you think. she’s an actress.”  pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader genre: best friends to lovers, mutual pining, slow burn warnings: fluff, angst with a happy ending, Lila is a real piece of work here, VERY CANON COMPLIANT, Spencer’s a bit of an ass :( wc: 10.4k a/n: special mention to @astrophileous for beta reading MWAH SPARKS FLY MASTERLIST // MAIN MASTERLIST
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“Hey kid, wheels up in thirty.” Derek nods towards you, dropping a case file on your desk. 
You raise an eyebrow, flicking open the case file to the first page. A small laugh of disbelief leaves your lips. “Ooh, Los Angeles, media capital of the world. What’s the occasion?”
“Three murders, all shot in the head executional style.” 
Your face falls into a grimace as you grab your go-bag and tuck the file under your arm, following the rest of the team to the jet. “Spence and Gideon are there already, right? Talk about timing.”
Elle can’t help but grin at your words, slinking an arm over your shoulder. “Looks like you’ll see loverboy a lot sooner than you think.”
A shriek of betrayal leaves your lips as you throw her arm off of you. “I have no idea what you’re talking about!”
“Sure you don’t,” JJ all but cackles as she boards the plane, grinning the entire way. 
“I’m gonna kill you,” you grumble, dropping your things on one of the seats in the jet. “Seriously, I mean it. I know how to get away with murder.”
Hotch raises an eyebrow at you, his gaze that of a disappointed yet amused father. “Not the brightest thing to say while you’re in a room full of FBI agents.”
Elle lets out a ‘hah!’ as she sits across from you, crossing one leg over the other as she grins. “Get comfortable, buttercup, six hour flight and you’re not going anywhere.”
“Assholes.” You roll your eyes teasingly, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear as you turn to your case files. “And it’s not like that.”
“Oh, of course not,” Elle snickers, “you’re just friends.”
You throw a pen at her and it bounces off her leg harmlessly. “I can smell the sarcasm.”
“You’ll be smelling more of it,” Derek laughs, ruffling your hair. “Sit tight, kid, we’re in for a long flight.”
Once everyone was settled and the jet was high in the air, the team began to look through the files with Garcia on speaker as usual. 
“First two victims, Wally Melman and Chloe Harris,” You recite dutifully, glancing over the grotesque crime scene images. “Seems like they were both killed in public places.”
“Chloe was killed while walking her dog on the beach in Santa Monica which she did every morning, and Wally was killed outside of a massage parlour,” JJ reiterates, sitting down with a cup of tea in her hand. 
“In Culver City,” Derek adds. 
“Which he went to every Tuesday,” Elle continues.
Derek looks to the rest of the team, a thoughtful look on his face. “Well, if he knows their schedules, maybe that means he follows his victims for a while.”
“And not a single witness. So we know this UnSub can blend in,” Hotch mutters. “Regardless of the location, he has the ability to hide in plain sight.”
“So, he’s meticulous.” Elle nods, her eyes drifting from Hotch to the case file. 
“The media is calling Natalie Ryan’s murder the biggest celebrity homicide since Sharon Tate,” JJ adds, looking through the images of the newspaper clippings that were sent to her laptop.
“Great,” You muse, although frustration is clear in your voice. “What does that mean for us?”
Hotch lets out a sigh. “That everybody will be watching.”
***
“This guy is an assassin?” Detective Kim asks with disbelief as the rest of the team reiterates their thoughts once they were in the police department. 
“When you look at the victimology, there’s no obvious links,” Morgan points out. “All the kills were clean except in the instance of the last victim, Jeremy Collins.”
You nod, tucking a strand of hair as you reference the case files. “There’s absolutely no evidence left at the crime scene. Labs have found zero DNA, no manifestation of psychosexual release, and from what we can tell there’s no detectable signature of any kind. These kills are straight forward, almost like he’s on a mission.”
“Remember, our profiles are formulated not just by what’s present at the scene but also what’s absent,” Gideon says to Detective Kim.
“From all the evidence that we’ve gathered, we believe you’re looking for a Type Four Assassin,” Elle explains.
“Type Four?” 
Spencer immediately jumps in to explain, gesticulating throughout his explanation. “Type One’s are political assassins like John Wilkes Booth. Type Two’s are egocentrics looking for simple recognition.”
“Type Three’s are psychopaths,” Hotch continues, “cold-blooded killers who leave far messier scenes. Type Four, our UnSub, suffers from a major mental disorder and is frequently delusional.”
“The closer we come to figuring out that delusion, the closer we’ll get to finding the UnSub,” Reid points out. 
Everyone is left to their own thoughts and you look over to Spencer, a soft grin on your face. “How was your father-son bonding time?”
Spencer gives you a pointed look, but a soft laugh leaves his lips. “It was… fine.”
“Fine? Out of everyone on the team, Gideon chose you to present a talk about behavioural analysis and profiling to the LAPD. You love conferences. C’mon, give me something!” You nudge his shoulder gently. 
“We uh.. we went to an art gallery the other day. We met a movie star, so that was cool…” his cheeks are dusted with a soft pink as he talks and your curiosity only increases. 
“A movie star, huh? Look at you, mingling with the high and mighty.” You poke his cheek with a laugh. “Tell me about them.”
He flushes at the contact, clearing his throat. “Um… her name is Lila Archer. Have you heard of her? She’s–”
“Reid, (L/N), we’re meeting with someone,” Derek cuts in, nodding towards the both of you.
You blink in confusion as you follow him to another room. “Suspect?”
“Someone received a note,” Derek says quickly, glancing over at the note in Elle’s hands. “On a newspaper clipping of the latest murder.”
“Lila?”
A blonde woman was sitting in the next room over, her legs crossed over as she waits. Her eyes light up in recognition and she stands up. You can’t help but be impressed as you give her a quick once over. She’s gorgeous, exactly what you expect from a famous movie star. 
“I’m Agent (L/N),” You say gently, moving from your spot next to Spencer and holding your hand out. “This is Agent Morgan and I’m assuming you already know Doctor Reid. I understand that you received a note this morning?”
She wearily shakes your hand, her blue eyes flitting between you and Reid. “Yeah.”
“We just have a few questions to ask. We know that these things are sensitive, but we promise we’ll try to make the situation as easy as possible for you.” You shoot her a kind smile, excusing her weariness for fear or anxiety. “Is that alright?”
“Sure.” She respond curtly, shooting a smile towards Spencer before walking past you.
“Uh… okay?” You let out a little laugh in confusion and Derek raises an eyebrow at you.
“What was that about?” He asks, frowning.
You shrug your shoulders, watching as Spencer leads her to an empty desk. “Trust me, I have no idea. Maybe she’s just nervous and wants to talk to a familiar face.”
Derek hums in thought. “Maybe. But usually victims like this are more willing to speak to someone of the same gender. It’s strange that she was so direct to you.”
“She’s been through a traumatic experience. If I got a newspaper clipping with a message written in blood, I probably wouldn’t be too thrilled meeting new people either,” You defend, pursing your lips. “She’s probably just… scared, right?”
He doesn’t respond, moving to follow Spencer and Lila further into the police department. A few questions were asks about her relationship with the other victims, only to find that she was in fact the connection between the other victims. Wally Melman was a producer who Lila met with a few times to discuss a role, only for him to cast Natalie Ryan instead. Chloe Harris looked an awful lot like Lila, so it was likely that the UnSub got rid of her in order to ‘ice-out’ the competition. 
“(L/N), may I talk to you for a moment?” Hotch asks quickly, waving you over. 
You blink in confusion but nod, walking over to where he stands by the desk. “Yeah, what’s up?”
“I want you to try and get as much information from Lila as possible.” He gestures to where Lila sits in one of the victim waiting rooms. “This is your area of expertise. Try and find out if there’s any distinct information that she’s given to anyone so that we can track the UnSub.”
“Got it.” You offer a smile, fixing your shirt as you agree. “I’ll update you if I get any new information.”
You make your way over to where Lila was sitting, trying to look as friendly as possible. “Hey, Lila. Are you alright? Can I get you anything?”
She glances over you for a second, looking you up and down before shaking her head. “I’m fine. Where’s Spencer?”
Your brows furrow at his words. “Doctor Reid…? He’s currently going through the timeline of events with our colleagues. In the meantime, I was hoping to ask a few questions, maybe shed some light on the entire situation.”
She raises an eyebrow before nodding. “Okay.”
“Alright…” you clear your throat, taking a seat across from her. “You mentioned that you receive a bowl of red anemones on the seventh of every month. Do you mind… telling me why you like those flowers so much?”
She shrugs dismissively, running a hand through her blonde hair. “They’re pretty. I like the colour.”
You nod slowly, writing that down in your notes. “Well that’s understandable; they’re very beautiful flowers. But they’re a little uncommon as a favourite flower, don’t you think? If you like the colour, a more common favourite flower would be poppies or roses… are you sure there isn’t another reason? The meaning behind red anemones is forsaken love and death… does that intrigue you at all?”
She scoffs, “are you trying to accuse me of something?”
“Not at all,” you say quickly, “I apologise if it comes off that way. I’m just trying to find out as much as possible about the entire situation. For all we know, those flowers could have been sent by the UnSub.”
A short silence lulls in the room as well as an awkward tension. So, you try to take things from another angle. 
“I love hydrangeas,” you say gently, a small smile on your lips. “I like the way they’re always bunched together and the colours are beautiful. Only a few people know that I like them though. My close friend and colleagues, my family… do you remember telling anyone about your favourite flower?”
She’s quiet for a moment before shrugging. “I don’t know.”
Your face falls and you press a little more. “Are you sure you don’t remember? Maybe… maybe your manager, or a friend of yours?”
“I said ‘I don’t know’, okay?” She snaps, her hands balling into fists as she glares at you. “God, it’s not that hard to understand.”
You lean back in your chair, your gaze hardening. “I understand that this is difficult for you, but any information–”
“I don’t have any information!” Lila huffs, her hands placed in her lap. “Are you stupid or something?”
“The likelihood of these people being murdered because of you is incredibly high,” You say sharply, shutting your notebook. “If you’re withholding information from us it could prove detrimental to the investigation. I’m only trying to do my job. Asking you questions is part of my job.”
Her lips twitch at your words and she scowls. “I already told you I don’t remember.”
“Not remembering and not knowing are two different things, Ms Archer.” You place your card on the table. “If you remember anything, please give me a call.”
You get up from your seat, heading to the door, only to see that it was wide open with Derek and Spencer standing at the doorway. In seconds, Lila’s gaze softens and she runs out of the room, sniffling as she does. Your gaze follows her as she runs out of the police station, a look of disbelief on your features.
“What the…”
“Seriously (Y/N)?” Spencer demands, a frown on his face. 
You gape at his words. “What are you–”
He cuts you off, running after Lila. Derek raises an eyebrow in their direction before turning to you. 
“You okay, pretty girl?” Derek asks gently, patting your shoulder. 
“Honestly? I have no idea,” You confess quietly, biting your lip. “I’ve never seen him get so…”
“Upset? Angry?” he finishes, a small laugh leaving his lips. “You and me both. Look, kid, it’s not your fault. She was clearly being dismissive of your questions and she needed a reality check.”
“It’s not like I’ve never spoken that way when interrogating someone before,” You point out, brows furrowed in frustration. “Even then, Spencer has never had an issue with it. I just– I don’t understand what’s got him so worked up.”
Derek can’t help but laugh. “You’re a profiler. Isn’t it obvious?”
You pause for a moment, thinking through their interaction. “He has a crush on her, doesn’t he? He likes her. Of course he does. Brilliant, now he’s involved.”
Derek pats you on the back sympathetically. “Come on, pretty girl. We’ve got a job to do.”
***
Despite your original hesitancy, Hotch asked you personally to go with the others, meaning that you had no right to refuse. Well, you could, but that would mean throwing Elle under the bus and she would be much more helpful at the precinct than on set. So, before you could fake being sick and bail the investigation, you,  Derek, and Spencer went to check out the set of Lila’s movie, hoping to better observe her interactions with her costars and the staff. 
The inside of Lila’s small trailer is hot. Incredibly hot but relatively empty. As you look around, you gather that she’s either a minimalist or just didn’t have to spend a lot time in the trailer at all. Lila sits in front of the little group, wearing a robe to cover her costume: a cyan sequinned bikini set that she looked absolutely criminal in. Her hair has been styled in a classic blowout and you wonder how much time it took to get it to look so effortless.
“I’m not stopping my life,” she says, her voice almost stern as she steps out of the trailer and back onto the set.
You purse your lips as you glance at the paper in the plastic pocket, now labelled as ‘evidence’. Apparently it was taped up to the door of her trailer. Your eyes shift to Spencer who’s gaze doesn’t leave the door that Lila just walked out of for much longer than necessary. Neither of you have spoken since yesterday’s incident.
You hum thoughtfully, as you pull out your notebook, glancing at the notes you’ve been making. “Well, I guess the only thing we can do is talk to the people on set. Maybe they saw something. I’ll see if I can find out who has access to Lila’s trailer.”
Spencer nods in your direction. “Yeah, that’s… that’s a good idea.”
One of your eyebrows quirk up. “Okay…? Why do you sound so surprised?”
He flushes under your scrutiny, clearing his throat as the three of you begin to walk out of the trailer and towards the set. “I’m not! I– I’m not surprised. You’re good at your job.”
“You didn’t seem to think that yesterday,” You respond lightly, your tone petty and passive aggressive, gaze flickering between the cameras and lights on set. 
Derek coughs awkwardly before excusing himself and entering further into the set leaving you and Spencer alone outside by a vending machine. Spencer falters at your words and he runs a hand through his hair. The harsh Los Angeles sun beats down against your skin and you fiddle with the notebook in your hands. In turn, he fixes up his sleeves, rolling them up to his elbow, giving you a clear view of his forearms and large hands. 
“I’m sorry,” He says softly, chewing on his bottom lip. “I didn’t– I was out of line.”
“You were,” You agree, your gaze shifting between the chilled bottled drinks in the vending machine and him. “Buy me a drink and we’ll call it even.”
A boyish grin grows on his face and he nods, pulling out his wallet. “Yeah. Yeah, okay, awesome. Iced coffee?”
“You know me so well,” you respond with an equally large smile, poking his cheek. “Thank you!”
He presses a few buttons, grabbing a Cola for himself. You can’t help but laugh, giving him a pointed look. He quickly moves to defend himself, “It’s a hot day, okay? An exception.”
“An exception,” You repeat, trying to hide your smile as you crack open the lid of your drink and take a sip. “What happened to ‘Cola has 50 grams of sugar in it. That’s the equivalent of eating two full bars of milk chocolate’?”
He pouts at your words, opening his drink and you watch as a few bubbles rise to the top of the bottle. He takes a swig of his drink, sighing in content. “Shut up.”
You laugh again once you officially enter the set, nudging Spencer with your arm teasingly. He nudges you back, rolling his eyes and poking your cheek. You retaliate by doing the same, swinging your drink as you walk. 
Before you could do or say anything else, Derek taps your shoulder. “Hey, I need to talk to you about something.”
Spencer’s brows furrow. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah, just wanted to cross reference answers,” Derek dismisses. 
“Let me pull up my list,” You respond helpfully, grabbing your notebook. “Hey, Spence, do you mind canvassing the rest of the crew? See if anyone pays any special attention on Lila?”
He nods at your words, moving towards Lila, sipping on his drink. In the meantime, you turn towards Derek, a curious look on your face. 
“Little Miss Madonna has been glaring at you since the moment you entered the set,” Morgan says quietly, his gaze flitting to where Lila was making coffee. 
You practically snap your neck as you look up in her direction, watching as she quickly fumbles to make herself a cup of something. You turn away and you could practically feel her gaze burning against your scalp. A frown makes its way onto your face and you resist the urge to roll your eyes. You glance over to where she and Spencer were talking, blanching when you watch as she takes a swig of his Cola.
“You don’t mind, do you?” You hear her ask as she drinks and Spencer hurriedly shakes his head.
A quiet scoff leaves your lips and Derek nudges you with a look that reads ‘behave.’ You lift your hands in surrender and follow him over to where Spencer now stands by himself, Lila gone to talk to some other staff member.
“An exception, huh?” You ask Spencer, referring to his aversion to germs and sharing food. Your tone is mostly teasing despite the underlying bitterness beneath it. 
“Shut up.” He mutters quietly, cheeks hot from embarrassment of being caught.
Derek snorts, clapping his shoulder before moving on.
***
The next day, you were going over the evidence that was provided by the LAPD. Considering that it was a relatively young case, there weren’t copious amounts of evidence, meaning that there were still untied strings to go through. The entire situation proved more difficult than necessary; no one seemed to notice anything  amiss when it came to Lila and her relationships, and considering that the actress wasn’t very forthcoming with the information she knew, you were hitting dead-end after dead-end. 
Although geographical profiling was more of Spencer’s expertise than yours, you figured it wouldn’t do anyone harm by triangulating the previous three murders. He was standing beside you, his presence not unwelcome as he guides you step by step on how to plot an understandable and accurate profile. Hotch had asked him to coach you through the entire situation and explain his point of view, as well as his thought process when it came to geographical profiling. With a comfort zone now clearly expressed, you were discussing probable suspects on the phone with Garcia.
“Will Hunter… currently the town hermit, previous criminal record of armed battery and robbery,” Garcia recites, and you pull up his file.
“Mm… maybe? No, I don’t think so. His crimes don’t match the UnSub’s profile. He seems to be messier, uh, tending to use bats and knives than a clean shot to the head. And the profile suggests that the UnSub is able to blend in with the crowd.” You hum in thought, turning to Spencer.
“Hermits like Will Hunter wouldn’t be able to do that,” He explains to Garcia, putting his file into the ‘unlikely’ folder.
Garcia sighs in frustration and you can hear her furiously type away on her computer. “How about–”
“Hold that thought,” Elle says quickly, cutting Penelope off apologetically. “(Y/N), did you know Lila’s here?”
You blink in confusion, slowly shaking your head no. “She’s here? I didn’t get any calls from her.”
Elle shrugs at your words. “She looks like she’s going to burn a hole through your head.”
Your brows furrow and your gaze shifts to the blonde woman through the office window. She has her arms folded over her chest, a scowl on her face, before her cheeks burn in embarrassment of being caught. Spencer follows your gaze, his face lighting up at the sight of the actress. It’s almost as if he has selective hearing when it comes to his celebrity crush, clearly not hearing the part where Elle points out that Lila has been glaring at you the entire time.
“Can we talk outside?” You ask Elle quickly, getting up from your seat, not taking no for an answer.
Spencer opens his mouth to say something before he shuts it, watching as you drag your other co-worker out of the room. Your attention shifts between Lila and Elle, your brows furrowing. 
“What is it?” You ask, your back turned towards the actress. “Why is she here?”
“She gave me a list of people who know what her favourite flower is,” Elle says quietly.
Your ears go red at her words, your eyes practically bulging out of your head. “Excuse me?”
“She called me yesterday,” she explains, handing you the list of people. “She said that she remembers who they were and came in today to give me a list of people.”
You scoff in disbelief, throwing your hands up in the air in frustration. “I gave her my card.”
“She called and asked for me.” 
You scoff again, rolling your eyes. “Oh, so suddenly she can remember everything when she talks to you, but nothing when she talks to me? She’s not very slick.”
The door behind you opens, revealing Spencer who has been listening in the entire time. His jaw is clenched and a frown is etched upon his features as he looks at you accusingly. 
“Maybe she just didn’t remember,” he points out harshly as you and Elle re-enter the room.
An incredulous look makes its way into your face. “Excuse me?”
“She didn’t remember, and now she does,” Spencer says, and from the corner of your eye you watch Elle slowly leave the room once more. The door closes with a soft click.
“That doesn’t change the fact that she went to Elle and not to me,” you respond, trying to keep your voice even and your words clear. You take a deep breath in an effort to calm yourself down.
Spencer scowls at you. “Maybe she has every right to go to Elle after you snapped at her the first time you tried to talk to her.”
“Are you– are you being serious right now?” A humourless laugh leaves your lips as you glare up at him. “Look, Reid, I’m sorry that I’m not her biggest fan and that I don’t kiss the ground she walks on, but I was doing my job. A job that I believe I am quite good at. It’s not like speaking harshly is unheard of when it comes to the retrieval of information.”
He flinches when you call him by his last name but he stands his ground. “If you were so good at your job, you wouldn’t have to speak to her that way,” he argues, and you can see the vein in his forehead begin to protrude.
His words sting and bite you and suddenly you feel your resolve snapping. “You know what?” The words are slow and deliberate as they leave your lips, and you jab a finger against his chest. “I get that you have a crush on her and that you’re finally going through puberty but that does not mean that you can ignore the job you are currently on.”
He swallows thickly and he opens his mouth to retaliate but you push your finger against his chest once more.
“I am not finished.” Your voice is low with frustration and annoyance as you scowl, glaring up at him. “I don’t care who you’re attracted to or who you want to sleep with. I don’t give a damn if that someone is victim in the investigation because it’s not my problem. I do, however, have a problem when you undermine my ability to do my job and do nothing to fix it.
The worst part is the fact that you’re my friend. You’re supposed to be supportive and helpful and– and– and understanding.” Your mouth is moving quicker than your brain can register and you’re stumbling over your words as you snap at him. “I’m supposed to be able to go to you if I’m going through something. I should be able to talk to you if someone or something is bothering me, but now I’m just afraid that you’ll call me crazy and then criticise me all over again.”
His face falls and he looks at you like a kicked puppy as the words slowly sink in. He reaches out to you, his hazel eyes searching your face but the only emotion that you’re showing is anger. You push his hand away, the frown set on your eyebrows. It’s only then when you realise that Garcia has been listening into the conversation the entire time, your heart lurching to a stop when you hear her cough on the other side of the line.
“Um… is now a bad time to say that I didn’t get any other hits for the profile?” She asks tentatively through the speaker, and you feel your face burning.
“I need air,” you announce to no one in particular, before grabbing your files and storming out of the room.
Elle catches your arm on the way out, her eyebrows knitted together in concern. “(Y/N)-“
“Hey. Sorry.” You bite your lip, loosening the grip you have on your papers. “Where’s Hotch?”
“With Derek and Gideon,” she says gently. “Lila got another note and we’re going to check on her manager. Do you want to come with?”
You exhale before nodding. “Yeah. That’d be good.”
“Okay.” She squeezes your arm gently, her eyes flitting between you and Spencer who was inside the conference room, pacing back and forth. “Is… everything alright?”
“Honestly? No.” You offer her a wry smile, shoving your files into your bag. “But it’s fine.”
She chuckles a little in disbelief, leading you to the black SUVs outside. Derek and Gideon were already there, waiting patiently for the two of you while Hotch has already left in another SUV. Apparently the ‘no profiling each other’ rule was thrown out the window as soon as they saw the state you were in, and Derek quickly makes his way over to you.
“(Y/N), are you–”
“I’m fine,” you snap, before closing your eyes tightly and letting out a deep breath. “Sorry, Morgan. I’m okay, just had an argument with Reid.”
At that, his eyebrows shoot upwards. “Since when did you call him ‘Reid’? And what do you mean you had a fight with him? He literally can’t say no to you.”
“Yeah, that was before a Miss Archer walked into the room,” you mutter bitterly. “Shot a literal arrow through his heart. She put her name to good use. I never stood a chance.”
“Hey now, don’t say that,” Elle says, climbing into the SUV. You follow closely behind and she continues. “He’s just confused right now.”
You can’t help but scoff. “I really doubt that.”
Gideon starts the car, looking at you through the rear view mirror. “You’re a profiler. What do you really think?”
The words die at your tongue and you deflate into the seat of the car. You hate to admit it, but Gideon is right. You should be able to figure out exactly what Spencer is thinking. After all, he’s your best friend– you shouldn’t have to be worrying about guessing games when it comes to him.
Hotch is the first to arrive at the manager’s office, watching as your group pull up in front of the building. Once everyone clambours out of the car, they enter the building, a sigh of relief leaving them as they enjoy the air conditioned lobby. With a flash of a badge, the receptionist is quick to tell you which floor and room number Michael was in.
“Floor 11, Room 03,” you mumble to yourself as you scribble it down in your notes.
The elevator ride is silent and you rock back and forth on your feet as the lift begins to rise. Your head is spinning with thoughts and regrets as you consider the harsh words that you spat at Spencer’s face less than an hour ago. You must not have been hiding your frustration well because Hotch finally says something. 
“Is everything alright?” He asks, much like a father would when their child is having a tantrum. It’s fitting.
You shrug. “I will be.”
“Is it to do with Reid?” 
You cough awkwardly, glancing back at the notes in your hand. “That obvious?”
Derek snorts from behind you. “Yeah, a little.”
“Everyone knows you’re in love with him,” Elle adds, a teasing lilt to her voice.
“I am– I am not in love with him!” You all but shriek, shooting her a half hearted glare and you stutter out a response. “I mean, I– uh– I like him but–“
“You are a horrible liar,” Derek cackles and you groan. 
Hotch and Gideon watch amused at the interaction, and the latter finally pipes in.
“Profiling isn’t something you can just turn off,” he explains to you, his tone gentle. He reminds you of a grandfather giving advice to their youngest grandchild, and a small smile makes its way onto your face. He continues to speak, “it’s subconscious and it becomes a habit. The only time it stops is when you either need it most, or when you don’t want to see anything.”
The elevator comes to a stop on the eleventh floor and Michael’s office wasn’t far away. The writing on the frosted glass reads ‘1103, Michael Ryer & associates, talent management’ and Elle raps on the door.
“Hello?” 
“Mr Ryer?” Gideon calls.
She knocks a few times again before opening the door entirely. “Michael–”
You’re met with Michael Ryer, dead in his arm chair and shot to the head, just like all the other victims. Despite having faced these circumstances before, you still feel sick to the stomach as you stare at Michael’s lifeless body and soulless eyes. It’s unnerving.
“Up until now every victim was a person who could be perceived as a threat to Miss Archer,” Hotch comments as they enter the room, pulling out his phone.
“Yeah, but Michael was a friend,” Elle says with a frown.
You look up from your notes. “He was a threat to the stalker.”
In less than twenty minutes, the LAPD dispatched forensics and evidence teams to the office. Lila and Spencer were on their way back to her house, deciding that it was best to deny the stalker access to her. You rifle through Michael’s belongings: his schedules, his files… everything until you come to one particular manila envelope. 
“Morgan, Elle, look at this,” you murmur, pulling the photos out of the envelope. “Pictures of Lila… nude.”
A flash of a grimace passes along Elle’s face, but it’s gone as quickly as it appears. “He was probably paying someone to keep them out of the press.”
“The name on the file says Joe Martinez,” Derek mutters, turning the envelope over.
The name must have struck a chord, because Detective Kim’s head immediately snaps around to look at you. “Paparazzo?”
You blink. “You know this guy?”
“Yeah, I deal with him a lot,” Kim responds, his face stoic. 
“We should follow that lead,” You comment, tucking the photos back in the envelope and looking over at Detective Kim and Derek. “I’m ready to go when you are?”
After an okay from Hotch, you, Derek, and Detective Kim make your way over to the Joe Martinez’s place. After knocking on the door to his place multiple times, Derek decides to open it in the way he knows best: by kicking it down. You grip your gun, holding it out in front of you as you travel through the hallways. 
“Clear!” You yell out upon pushing another door open, seeing nobody inside.
“(Y/N), you need to check this out,” comes Morgan’s call, and you follow the direction of his voice
Pinned above a small desk are picture upon pictures of Lila Archer. When she has lunch, when she’s out with her friends… it’s almost as if this person has completely documented her life. It’s a little nerve wracking, knowing that someone could follow you and take photos without anyone even realising.
“Hey is that–” you pause, pulling a piece of paper off the wall. “This is Lila’s schedule.”
Derek blinks in surprise. “I’m guessing he’s not supposed to have that?”
“No,” Detective Kim responds, and your gaze shifts to the table.
“Hey, isn’t that–” you feel your heart practically stop as you see who’s in the photos. 
“That’s Reid,” Derek mutters.
Kim shifts through the photos. “There’s a whole bunch of them,” he says, pulling out at least five or six print outs. “Is he a target now?”
Derek scoffs, throwing the photos on the table and pulling out his phone, making a beeline for the exit. “Not if I can help it.”
You and Detective Kim follow him out, making your way to the SUV. 
“Reid? Hey, it’s Morgan. Listen, you gotta watch your back over there, we just found a bunch of close-up photos of you at this guy Joseph Martinez’s studio. It looks like he could be the UnSub.”
As he speaks you feel your heart pound in your ears. Your head is dizzy with fear and you’re following after Morgan who’s walking unbelievably quickly. 
“He has a ton of photos of Lila and Nathalie plus a call sheet for Lila’s show,” Derek continues, the speed of his walk not wavering. “(Y/N) and I are on our way right now but I need you to be real careful until we get there, all right?”
You look down to shove your notes back into your bag when you hear it. The distinct vrooming of a motorcycle engine. You don’t think too much of it, only turning your head to look over your shoulder, your hand finding the handle of the car door. That’s all it takes for the motorcyclist to drive straight toward you and the others, pointing an arm out.
“Gun!” You manage to scream, just before the UnSub open fires, hitting Detective Kim. 
You dive behind the car, grimacing when your knee collided roughly against the pavement. By the time you manage to recover and grab your gun out of its holster, the UnSub is long gone. You stare as Morgan fires a couple shots before watching the motorcyclist ride off into the LA traffic,  and you turn to Detective Kim.
“You got hit. Where?” You ask, shoving your gun back into its holster.
He grunts in pain, his entire weight on the car as he groans out, “yeah, it’s fine. Just my shoulder.”
“Derek, call for help,” you order, pressing firmly at the wound with your hand to lessen the bleeding. He lets out a cry of pain and you wince. “Sorry, it’s bleeding a lot. Gunshot wound to the shoulder, no exit wound. Seeing as you’re not already dead, I don’t think it hit any major arteries, but it might have busted your collarbone. You’re lucky if that’s the extent of the damage. The shoulder contains a bunch of important and major bloodlines, as well as nerve endings.”
Derek turns to you with a wry smile. “You’re starting to sound like Reid.”
“You spend four years with him, you’ll start to learn a few things,” you respond with a humourless laugh. You continue to press against Detective Kim’s wound, murmuring an apology. 
“You should talk to him,” Derek prompts.
You scoff, “we have a detective bleeding in front of us and the thing you’re worried about is my love life?”
“Isn’t the first rule of relieving pain through distraction?” He asks. You shoot him an unimpressed look and he quickly nods his head. “Okay, sorry.”
Ten minutes later, Detective Kim is hoisted into the ambulance. You cringe as you wash his blood off your hands, once, twice, then a third time to make sure everything is gone. Your shirt has a couple of blood spots and you can’t help but frown; you liked that shirt. At least the stain isn’t too big– just a few splotches here and there. 
“It’s a good thing you held the wound,” an EMT praises, working quickly to secure Kim’s shoulder. “He shattered his collarbone, but you seemed to have managed to control the bleeding.”
If it weren’t for the circumstances, you would have shouted a clear ‘I told you so’ to both Derek and Detective Kim, but you keep your mouth shut.
Hotch, Gideon, and Elle arrive moments later, speaking to Derek about the detective’s injuries. 
“You okay?” Elle asks gently, squeezing your shoulder. 
“Yeah,” you murmur, wringing your hands together. “Just a little jumpy. I’ll be fine.”
“We need to get to her house,” Gideon mutters, glancing at the group. 
Without another moment to lose, you’re clambering into an SUV, gripping the steering wheel until your knuckles turn white. Elle climbs into the passenger seat beside you, her brows knitted together in concern. She opens her mouth to say something but shuts it, watching as you start the car and speed off into the direction of Lila’s house. 
After slamming the door shut and gripping the gun firmly in the palm of your hand, you follow Derek through the back entry of the house. You weren’t even sure if it could even be counted as a ‘house’; the place looked like it had at least five bedrooms on both floors. Derek glances at you, signalling to be quiet, then another to keep your eyes on him. A quiet splashing in the pool alerts your attention, and despite his attempts of getting you to not look, you do. And as soon as you do, you really wish you hadn’t. 
You are met with the sight of Lila Archer in her bikini-clad glory, in the pool with Doctor Spencer Walter Reid. Doctor ‘pools are incredibly unhygienic, harbouring more than 50 million different types of bacteria’ Reid. And as if it couldn’t get any worse, you watch as their lips touch again and again, his hands cupping her face and her hands arms around his neck. 
Spencer pulls away from the kiss, his breath heavy and his head spinning. This is wrong. He’s not supposed to being do this. His brain is short circuiting and it’s even worse when he considers all the germs that could be in this pool. His head spins with the names of viruses and bacteria that could be festering in the waters he was currently in, and then he remembers he has more pressing matters to attend to. Namely the girl who was literally pressing her lips to his. 
He pulls away, stammering over responses. “We can’t– we shouldn’t. I’m a federal agent and you’re–”
Lila stares at him, amused, with her hands cupping his neck. “There’s no one here.”
“I’m supposed to be protecting you,” Spencer tries again, anxiety gnawing at his stomach. This is wrong. Unprofessional. Then his mind wanders to you and the nagging voice in the back of his mind urges him to do something. 
“There are police out front,” Lila says, kissing him again before continuing, “there are coyotes out back.”
“This is completely inappropriate,” Spencer stutters out, his hands reaching for her shoulders. Her skin is cold from the summer night’s breeze, even more so considering how they’re submerged in disgusting chlorine-filled pool water. 
“This?” She presses her lips to his once more. “What’s this?”
“This isn’t–” he swallows thickly, his cheeks flared. “No, there’s this thing called transference–”
Lila pulls away, her stare drifting from his eyes to his lips as she asks, “you don’t like me?”
Spencer blanches at the question. “What?”
“You don’t like me,” Lila repeats, more sure of herself now. “It’s because of her, right?”
He frowns at the insinuation. “‘Her’? Who’s ‘her’?”
“The other person on your team,” Lila says, her words bitter. “You like her don’t you?”
His mouth goes dry and he opens and closes it like a fish out of water. “What?”
“Let me change your mind,” she whispers, bringing her lips to his for the nth time. 
Spencer barely has time to react, his hands moving to the side of her face and he imagines that she’s you. But she’s not you and you would never kiss him in the middle of the pool. You would never pull him in by his tie and cut him off when he’s speaking. He pulls away. 
“Stop. Stop, Lila, I’m sorry, I have to– I have to tell you something.” His mind is blanking. Why is it that when he needs it, his brain shuts off?
“What?” Lila asks, her lips moving to his cheek and then to his jaw. 
“I didn’t want to tell you this before because I was a bit worried.” He’s screaming at himself in his head, kicking himself because ‘why the hell did he just say that?!’ Regardless of the way he wishes he could shut his mouth and run out of the pool, he continues, “I don’t know how to say it but I can’t not tell you.”
“What is it?” She finally pulls away and Spencer lets out a breath of relief.
The relief is short lived because he starts to blab, “Your manager, Michael–”
“What?”
“Gideon went to check on him but he got there too late.” Spencer thinks he’s going to hurl, his mind running a million times an hour and screaming, ‘No you idiot! No, no, no! Out of all the things you could say–’
Lila scrambles out of the pool, clearly distraught, and he reaches out to touch her arm… only to be swatted away with her sobbing and telling him not to touch her. He figures he deserves that and follows out of the pool after her. 
“How could you– how could you not tell me?” Lila demands, her tears mixing with the pool water already on her face. 
“I was afraid you’d be upset,” Spencer says lamely, water dripping from his trousers and he just wants a towel. 
“You– you knew what you knew and… how could you not…?” She’s on the verge of hyperventilating and she looks at him before looking away. 
“I’m sorry,” Spencer says quietly, not knowing what else to say.
Lila retreats into her house, shutting the glass sliding door behind her and Spencer can only watch as she throws a pillow at the wall before going up the stairs to her room. He stands there, in the cold, dripping wet from the pool water and he wipes his face with his hand. His gun sits on the table, damp, and he has the urge to scream. Before he could do something exceedingly stupid, the sound of footsteps alert him and he spins around. 
“Elle?”
“We found him in the bushes,” she says to Spencer, nodding to the guy being cuffed by Derek. 
“I told her she should cut those.” He says dismissively, wiping his gun with a towel. He looks at her and then at you. He swallows thickly, noticing the way your eyes look him up and down, the disapproval oozing in your stare. “I– uh– I fell in.”
“Yeah,” you respond, holding the camera up and a sarcastic smile blossoms on your face. “I’m sure there are plenty of photos of it.”
He sighs, “(Y/N)–”
“Hey, stop shoving me, man!” Joe snaps as Derek pushes him to walk forward.
“You’re a suspect in the murder of Wally Melman, Natalie Ryan, and Jeremy Collins.”
You watch as Joe’s face comically contorts from annoyance to confusion as he jumps to defend himself. “Murder? What? Whoa! Whoa, whoa, whoa–”
“Just shut up with the ‘whoa’. We know for a fact that you have hundreds of photographs of Lila Archer and Natalie Ryan on the walls of your studio. You have Miss Archer’s daily schedule on your desk. You’ve been stalking her.”
“Look, guy, hold up. Every paparazzi’s a celebrity stalker,” Joe says and the rest of the group turn to look at him incredulously. He continues to speak undeterred. “If you don’t stalk them, you don’t get the shot, and if you don’t get the shot, you don’t sell no pictures.”
“Yeah, well this one’s gonna cost you,” you hum, holding the camera in your hands and ripping the film out despite his yells of defiance.
Derek steps forward, pushing Joe to keep him walking. “Tell it to your lawyer.”
“Wh– I’m still being locked up?”
“That’s right, at the very least you’re trespassing.”
Elle and Derek walk Joe out of the premises, and you push the pulverised film against Spencer’s chest. He grips it in his hands, a soft ‘oof’ leaving his lips at the contact. 
“You’re welcome,” you mutter, albeit a little bitterly, as you turn to follow the rest of your team out.
“(Y/N), listen, it didn’t mean anything,” he says softly, squeezing the film in his fist tightly while the other hand reaches out to you. 
You roll your eyes, opening up the sliding door. “I told you, Reid, I don’t care who you sleep with.”
He splutters a little, pushing his hair away from his face. “We didn’t– I didn’t– we didn’t sleep together, you know that.”
“Even more reason why I shouldn’t care.”
His hand grips onto your shoulder, turning you around so that you’re facing him. “But you do. ‘Shouldn’t’? You care. You clearly obviously care, (Y/N).”
“I don’t,” you deny, pushing his hand away. “Reid–”
“Stop calling me that.”
“–it doesn’t matter. I don’t care. I’m leaving.”
He grabs onto your arm, stopping your retreat. “Why are you being like this?”
“I am not ‘being like’ anything!”
“(Y/N).”
“Doctor, this is highly unprofessional.”
He has to stop the frustrated groan that was moments away from leaving his lips as he stares at you. His eyes ghost over your frame, stopping directly at the dark red splotches on your shirt.
“What happened?” He demands, taking a step closer. “Are you hurt?”
“I’m fine.”
“Who’s blood is that?”
“Detective Kim’s.”
“What– were you shot at?” 
His hands fly to your face, trembling and cold, and you would have thought it was romantic if he didn’t do the exact same thing less than twenty minutes ago with another girl. 
“It doesn’t matter,” you dismiss quietly. 
“Don’t say that.”
“God, you act as if we’re dating or something!” You snap, pulling away from him. 
He stops short, his cheeks and ears reddening at your words. His mind goes blank and suddenly he feels very warm at the idea. Dating you? Every moment he had with Lila in that pool is nothing compared to the idea of dating you.
He watches as you roll your eyes before tugging your arm out of his grip. He wants to cry out again, to say something, but his head just seems to repeat the words ‘we’re dating’ over and over again. 
“Just forget it, Reid.” You look to the house and your gaze grows steely once more. “Your girlfriend is calling.”
*** 
“I want to try and talk to some of Lila’s close friends,” you say to the others after getting off the phone with Garcia. “According to Penelope, there’s a girl named Maggie Lowe on the list that Lila gave us and they’ve known each other since college. Apparently, they spent a lot of time together and Lila helped her get a job.”
“I’ll go with you,” Elle says instantly, climbing into the car. “Why Maggie?”
You start the ignition, backing out of the driveway and onto the main road, following the GPS directions. “They spend almost all of their time together. I mean, she must have noticed something off, you know?”
Elle nods slowly in understanding. “She knows about the red anemones, right?”
“Yeah. And she was the one who found the note taped to the door.” You pause, thinking through the evidence again. “Her apartment is right in the middle of the comfort zone.”
“You think she could be the UnSub?”
“It all seems too convenient. But then again, we didn’t profile the stalker as a woman. There have got to be some inaccuracies or things we overlooked because of the gender,” you murmur, stopping at a red light. “Call Garcia for me.”
The phone rings once before Penelope’s unmistakable voice chimes through. “Speak my pretties, and you shall be heard!”
“Hey, Pen, can you check what vehicle is registered under Maggie Lowe’s name?” You ask into the speaker, parking in front of the apartment.
“Checking, checking… aha! It’s a Honda Motorcycle, she just got it serviced six and a half months ago.”
“That’s the vehicle that the UnSub was driving when they shot at us,” you mumble in realisation. “Call the others, the UnSub might be Maggie Lowe. We’re checking the apartment now.”
“Gideon and Derek are at the art gallery to talk to Parker Dunley,” Elle points out. “I’ll let them know we’re at her apartment.”
There’s a typing on the other side of the line and Penelope chimes in once more. “Bad news, my loves. The cameras report Lowe’s motorcycle leaving the apartment complex half an hour ago.”
“Garcia, call Reid and tell him what we know. Elle and I are going into the apartment. We might find evidence or clues on who the next victim might be.” 
With that, you hang up, getting out of the car and running up the stairs with Elle hot on your heels. 
“Maggie Lowe?” You call through the door, knocking once then twice. 
You’re met with silence and you grimace, deciding to do Derek’s favourite move: kicking the door down. With a crash, the door slams open and you grip your gun a little tighter in your hand. Bathroom, clear. Kitchen and pantry, clear. Lounge, clear. Bedroom, clear– you stop short. Pictures– framed pictures– of Lila hung around the wall. A cork board with newspaper clipping and magazine cut outs were pinned meticulously to the cork backing, each one with Lila’s face and name circled with bold red marker. 
“Holy shit…” Elle whispers, holstering her gun and staring at the wall. “This is… this is beyond obsession.”
“You’re telling me,” you respond, putting on a blue glove and flipping through the cork board. “Call the others, Maggie is definitely the UnSub. Someone this obsessed must have…” you pause, filing through the desk on the other side of the room, “… a diary. Each murder was described to detail in each entry, as well as her feelings towards Lila.”
Elle grimaces as she looks over your shoulder to read the diary entries. “Grim.”
You huff out a laugh. “Yeah.”
Above her desk are images of Lila. Every single show she’s been in since Julliard, every time she was mentioned in an article, posters, newspaper clippings of the murders… the entire ordeal makes you feel sick. 
Elle sucks in a breath, staring at the desk. “She’s got Lila’s entire life documented.”
“And she’s probably already at Lila’s house,” you mutter, grabbing your phone. “We need to get over there, now.”
*** 
“The city of angels everything you thought it would be?” Derek asks amusedly, leaning against the wall of the jet as he watches you pour your third cup of coffee in the past three hours. 
It’s a couple days after Maggie Lowe was apprehended and the team were on the jet home getting some much needed rest. The aircon was put on full blast and you couldn’t be more grateful for it, enjoying the coolness on your skin in contrast to the hot Los Angeles weather. 
“I’m never coming back here,” you quip, your gaze shifting to where Spencer sits. He’s reading a book but he hasn’t turned a page for the past thirty seconds. “If I were to overthrow America, Los Angeles is the first place to go.”
Derek snorts, his eyebrows raising. “You don’t mean that.”
“I do,” you huff, finally looking at him. “I’m serious!”
“Sure kid. Totally believe you.”
He’s teasing, a knowing smirk on his face as he watches you chug the coffee with a grimace. Your tongue burns and you fill the cup with water and chug that as well, ignoring the amused look Derek keeps sending you. From the corner of your eye you see Spencer reading his book. At least, it would appear that he was reading to someone who didn’t know him. But you know him. He’s been staring into the pages for the past minute now and that alone was enough to let you know that he was paying more attention to your and Derek’s conversation than to the words on the page. 
You resist the urge to roll your eyes as you sit beside Elle who is already fast asleep. You envy her for a moment as she leans against the plane window, blissfully unaware to your mental torment. Stupid Spencer and his stupidly pretty face. From where you’re sitting you can see the back of his head and you glare at that the ridiculous mop of brown on his head. 
The rest of the plane ride is uneventful and by the time you make it back to the office it’s already late. It’s nearing one in the morning and everyone begins to head home. Derek is yawning as he leaves the office and Elle has a look that screams ‘Don’t talk to me’. Gideon is long gone and Hotch was in his office, packing up the last of his papers and files. 
Spencer is sitting at his desk, combing through the paperwork and stashing a couple pages into his satchel. He bids farewell to Derek and the others before shoving his train pass into his pocket. 
“You’re taking the train?” You ask, finally speaking to him.
His eyebrows raise in surprise and he shifts on his feet, gripping the strap of his bag. “Um, yeah. I took the train here, so...”
“Oh.” You nod, glancing at the clock. “No you’re not.”
He huffs out a laugh. “What?”
“You’re crazy if you think I’m letting you get onto a train at one in the morning,” you say, pointing with your chin to the elevator. “You might be a man and all, but it doesn’t change the statistics.”
You know his weakness. Statistics. Facts. Spencer hates the fact that you know him so well. 
He relents, getting into the elevator with you. “I thought you were mad at me.”
He hears you scoff, pressing B1 on the elevator. “Just because I’m mad at you, doesn’t mean that I’m going to let you do something potentially dangerous.”
He hates the way your words makes his heart flutter and he continues speak. “I didn’t mean to make you upset.”
“It doesn’t change the fact that you did,” you respond curtly, watching as the elevator doors open. “Come on, my car is that way.”
Spencer flinches at your tone. “I’m sorry.”
You laugh. “You don’t even know what you’re sorry for.”
“I–” the words die on his tongue as he wracks his brain. “I thought it was because you didn’t like Lila.”
“That’s true,” you murmur, unlocking the car. “Look, Reid–”
“Please,” he cuts you off, his voice cracking as he practically begs. “Please stop calling me that.”
He doesn’t miss the way your eyes flicker to him as you tug the car door open. “You want me to stop calling you by your name?”
Spencer’s nostrils flare as he gets in the car. “You know that’s not what I mean.”
You laugh again as you start the engine, glancing at the mirrors. “Everyone calls you Reid. It shouldn’t be any different for me.”
He huffs. “But it is different. You’re… different.”
“How?” You challenge, backing out of the parking spot and getting onto the main road. You’ve memorised the route from Quantico to Spencer’s apartment in DC– an almost one hour drive and you understand why Spencer hates driving to and from work. 
He falters before shaking his head. “It doesn’t matter. Just please don’t call me by my last name again.”
“Spencer,” You try again, missing the visible relief in his eyes, “I’m not mad at you because of something as miniscule as a girl. You’re entitled to your own relationships outside of work.”
“I don’t under– oh.” The realisation dawns on him when he recalls all the words you threw at him at the precinct. “I wasn’t a very good friend, was I?”
“No, Spencer, you weren’t.” You don’t hesitate to say it and Spencer winces at how quickly you agree with him. “You were unfair and let your emotions get in the way of the case. You criticised me and undermined my authority and then you had the absolute nerve to act as if nothing was wrong.”
“I’m sorry,” he croaks out, the lump in his throat getting bigger. 
“It hurt, Spencer,” you say, and your voice cracks as well. “It hurt because you’re my best friend and I would have supported you through everything. You know that. And I get that friends fight, but I thought that we wouldn’t fight about something as stupid as who you hook up with.”
“I didn’t hook up with her,” Spencer says quietly, and he thinks he might cry. “I’m serious, (Y/N), I didn’t hook up with her. She kissed me–”
“It doesn’t matter.” Your gaze shifts to him for barely a second before it’s back on the road. “Like I said, it doesn’t matter who you’re attracted to. I just didn’t think it would effect our friendship.”
“I’m sorry,” Spencer says again, holding onto his bag. 
You’re quiet before continuing, “ I know you are. I know that. I’m sorry that you thought that you needed to justify your feelings to me.”
He swallows thickly, watching your face carefully. You didn’t do anything to make him feel like he had to justify himself. If anything, it was Spencer’s conscious that made him feel the need to explain himself. The guilt that he felt after kissing Lila was enough to get him to feel sick. The guilt that he felt after knowing how badly he hurt you was enough to make him want to grovel at your feet. 
“You didn’t do anything wrong,” He mumbles, wetting his bottom lip. “You had– have– every right to be upset.”
“I don’t want to be upset anymore,” You say as you continue to drive down the freeway. 
He’s quiet before he finally says, “I miss you.”
“I miss you too.”
He swallows the lump in his throat and he presses the pads of his fingers into the corner of his eyes. “I’m so sorry.”
You finally park in front of his apartment, leaning against the chair. “I know. I know, I’m sorry too. I said… a lot of things.”
“I deserved it,” he says, a small laugh leaving his lips as he finally looks at you. “You’re right, I wasn’t being fair.”
You hum, leaning over the console to give him an awkward hug. He presses his nose into your shoulder, breathing in your vanilla perfume. His arms wrap around your middle and he realises how much he missed this. How he missed being close to you. 
“I won’t do it again,” he promises. 
“I know.”
“I really am sorry.”
“You need to stop apologising.” Your words come out like a laugh and he realises how much he misses that sound too.
“I’ll make it up to you,” he says into your shoulder. “Coffees for a month. I’ll even get you those croissants you like, even though they’re really overpriced.”
You laugh again and he smiles. 
“You apologising is already good enough,” You say, squeezing his arms. “Now go get some rest, Spence.”
His smile widens at the nickname and he finally pulls away. “Good night. Thank you for driving me home.”
You smile back. “Good night. Don’t mention it.”
The next morning, you find a steaming coffee on your desk and a freshly baked croissant in a brown paper bag. Spencer waves at you and you can’t help the goofy grin on your face as you take a bite into the croissant. 
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reblogs are always appreciated!
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ohdeerfully · 1 month
Note
Hii!! i’ve never requested smth before but i absolutely adore your lil one shots for alastor and was wondering if you could write smth based on someone’s idea?
https://www.tumblr.com/sockmeat/741700944177315840/alastor-in-rut-but-instead-of-him-being-horny-hes
completely fine if not!! i just thought it was a cute idea and would love to see it wrote in an actual scenario!! :3
this is really simple and short but god writing block is killing me quickly... hope u like it anyway!!!!!! mwah mwah
as stated in the request, this is based off of @sockmeat 's post, which you can access by clicking here!
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Jealousy Looks Good on You
alastor x reader (fluff) TW: alastor is super possessive, reader is referred to as female but doesn't really effect story at all, thats it i think
join my discord!
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It was that time of year again for Alastor. A few months of absolute physical and mental torture—which, considering he lived in Hell, maybe that was how Heaven finally managed to torment him for eternity. It never took a genius to figure out what put Alastor in such an odd state.
He was a deer.
Deer go into rut.
It was incredibly embarrassing, to say the least, especially for him when the rut was over. However, for his “mate,” who faced the brunt end of his seasonal affections, you didn’t mind in the slightest. In fact, it was probably your favorite three months of the year. 
You were currently lounging in the hotel lobby, chatting with Angel Dust about a bar he was interested in going to. You had one leg thrown up over the other, clad in a dark red outfit that had been “mysteriously” placed on the edge of your bed when you woke up—you knew who the culprit was as soon as you saw Alastor a few minutes later in a suspiciously similar outfit of the same color scheme.
He had been sitting next to you for a while, making small, nearly unnoticeable bids for attention as you tried to focus on Angel’s words. A pressure on your knee with his own, a light graze of his fingers through your hair as he lifted his hand to adjust his monocle… to anybody else, the contact would’ve seemed only coincidental; however, to you, it was obvious considering the great care he always took to mind his personal space.
A brief glance out of the corner of your eye confirmed your suspicions. You couldn’t help but lightly grin at the tense grin on his face and the growing expression of frustration as you continued to keep your attention on Angel.
“–so, that being said, I wanted ta invite’cha out with me! And Cherri’ll be there too,” Your eyes turned back towards the spider. You could nearly feel the tenseness in Alastor’s shoulders heighten, and that radio frequency of his tuning up ever so slightly, but still noticeable.
“That bar is no place for my lady,” Alastor responded in a snap before you could even open your mouth. You whipped your head in his direction with a frown. 
“She isn’t your anything, Smiles,” Angel shot back, also interrupting your own attempt at defending yourself. 
It was almost comical, the way your head twisted back and forth with each remark the two made at each other. The tension was rising quickly, and you were getting more agitated with how many times you got cut off from saying a single word.
You were distracted from your own mental anguish when Alastor abruptly stood, hand gripping his cane with more force than usual. There was a dangerous look in his red eyes as he grinned down at Angel.
“She is mine,” Alastor stated with finality. “And what’s mine stays with me.” He reached down and gripped your hand, tugging you up with him. As angry as he seemed he was still gentle with you, at least. 
You’d be lying if you didn’t find the possessiveness attractive. Heck, it would probably be impossible to date the Radio Demon if you didn’t want to be obsessed over and practically owned. You were only slightly embarrassed at the heat on your cheeks when you felt the almost desperate grip of his on your hand, to which Angel pointed at with a defeated “what the hell.”
He basically dragged you away from the situation, ears slightly pressed back. He refused to look at you as you caught up to his steps and walked beside him. He didn’t have to look at you, though, because you already knew the turmoil that was going through his head.
“Don’t be so embarrassed,” You tried to comfort as he opened the door to your shared bedroom. “I think it’s very becoming of a gentleman to protect his property.” You enjoyed the way his eyes glittered with pride when you referred to yourself in such a manner. You didn’t truly consider yourself property, of course, but you simply enjoyed seeing that look in his eyes and the way his chest involuntarily puffed up.
What a different being Alastor was during his rut. More expression than ever with the way his affections and frustrations were so visible in his body language. He pulled you closer to him, squeezing you against his body as he let the two of you fall into the bed. You lifted yourself off of his chest with an elbow and looked down at him.
He met your gaze with his own wide, needy eyes and quivering smile. To put it simply, he looked… pitiful. Endearing. You loved it. He hated it. You knew if anybody saw him in this state he would go on the attack immediately without a single thought. You briefly glanced back to make sure the door had been locked. Just in case.
You smiled at him and peppered kisses on his chest and up, finally nuzzling your head into the crook of his neck. He sighed pleasantly at your motions, swooping his arms up to position you on your side in front of him, wrapping himself protectively around your body.
“I crave you, my love,” He stated in an incredibly forward way. His voice lacked the typical radio effect as he spoke, and you realized your skin was also not prickling with the sensation that usually accompanied his presence. You responded by layering your hands over his own, which was resting comfortably against your waist. “I never want you out in such a… dirty place with that overly sexual spider.”
“I know, Al,” You said with a sigh. “Too many ‘hungry eyes’, you’ve told me this.”
He remained quiet, and you could barely feel the way your hair flicked every time he exhaled against the top of your head.
You also remained quiet, opting to just enjoy the moment. These three months went by so, so fast, so you didn’t want to waste time speaking and bickering over meaningless things. You didn’t care to go to bars, anyway; you weren’t much of a drinker. You also hoped to get Alastor’s mind off of his disdain for Angel. While you trusted him to know better to attack one of your friends—more importantly one of Charlie’s friends—you didn’t want to take any chances. He was somehow even more unpredictable during his rut.
You leaned your head back, tilting up slightly to meet Alastor’s gaze. He placed a feather-light kiss against your forehead in response.
He was in for a long three months, but you were going to enjoy every second of it.
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churipu · 4 months
Note
https://www.tumblr.com/ipinvrse/737019535695249408/hiii-i-can-ask-for-jjk-men-your-choice-with-a
This is great!! But now im thinking about "Looks like they could kill you, but is actually a cinnamon roll" gf lol
Could you maybe do that ?
JJK MEN + "LOOKS LIKE COULD KILL YOU, IS A CINNAMON ROLL" GIRLFRIEND
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featuring. itadori yuuji, geto suguru, fushiguro megumi x reader
warnings. cursing
note. hi anonn <33 the previous one of this got so much notes and i'm glad you liked it as well omg, sorry this one took so long. i hope you like it! mwah mwah
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ITADORI YUUJI. he's always viewed you as someone who doesn't need any help — so he only does when you actually asks him for help verbally. for instance, people have always viewed you as someone "not nice", the first time yuuji met you, you had a deep scowl painting your face that it made him nervous.
he assumed you didn't like anyone. so he never thought of striking up a conversation with you.
but yuuji grew to like you as time passes by, the scowl on your face was just a barrier to hide this "sweetheart" facade of yours. you're actually very nice despite the permanent scowl and furrowed brows. his view on you changed when you helped him after unexpectedly running to him around the corner.
"sorry, i wasn't looking where i was going," you tell him with a small smile, reaching your hand for him to take. and he did.
he swore that time he felt his heart flutter at the new point of view — ever since then, whenever he sees you, he's not nervous from fear; but he's nervous because he likes you.
the clammy hands that he gets when he sees you, or the way the tip of his ears turn red when you shot him a smile you wouldn't give to other people — or even the way he feels a smile tugging on the corner of his lips whenever he could hear your voice, both in person or through the phone.
when he confessed, yuuji didn't expect you to like him back. so he just told you he needed to tell you his feelings without listening to what you had to say, after that, he's gone — he ran away and hid in his room. avoiding you here and there.
not until you actually showed up in front of his door, a sheepish smile on your face and you were holding a small bouquet of flowers. when he opened the door, he expected gojo, or megumi, or kugisaki. but no; it was you. you were standing in front of his door.
"hey yuuji, you weren't...replying to my messages or talking to me, so i hope you don't mind me showing up here without telling you beforehand," you tell him, shoving the bouquet into his arms.
of course yuuji had to let you in, awkwardly pacing around and on his knees as you sat down on the ground, "i..it's a mess, i didn't know you were coming so i didn't have the time to clean up—"
"don't worry about it, i'm here to see you, aren't i?"
that day, you told yuuji how you felt the same. it was a small confession, but he asks you to be his girlfriend after that. today, a few months later — people don't know deep into your relationship, they just thought, "oh, y/n is probably the one who leads a lot in the relationship, she's always so serious."
but no, yuuji knows you better than anyone. behind that scowl of yours is something yuuji wants for himself, he finds it selfish, but he didn't care. he likes it when you only show your sweet side to him (not that you show it to anyone in general), and he often hear people talking about how serious you are that he could only laugh (they don't know).
if yuuji could describe you with one word, it would be clingy. he thought he was clingy, but you? god, you were even clingier than he is (in a good way) — he finds it endearing that you'd put up this tough look in front of other people, but when it's just you two alone, you turn into this cute girl he never expected to see. but he loves it.
so when people talk about how serious you are, or how angry you always look, yuuji would just laugh at them because they don't know you like he does (and he doesn't want them to know).
GETO SUGURU. everyone around him probably knows how soft and gentle he is. geto is a soft spoken man, and when he introduced you as his girlfriend — everyone was a tad bit surprised. as they expected geto to be with a girl who's also as soft spoken, calm, and not someone like you.
someone who walks around with a deep scowl like it's your whole personality (which kinda is), and would never talk to anyone unless spoken to. you had your reasons though, you felt like it was pointless to speak a lot, people can just use it against you, so you talk when you needed to do it.
but that doesn't mean you're a bad person.
it wasn't a surprise when you hear people often shit-talk about your relationship with geto and how he deserves better than you. or how there were so may girls better than you, or even how they said that you probably treat geto like shit. you always try to shut it down by telling yourself you don't care about these people — but geto, he's your boyfriend; of course he knows you better, maybe even better than yourself.
"y'alright, baby?" he asks, threading his fingers onto your hair as you laid in between his spread out legs, leaning your back onto his chest.
"yeah, just thinking."
don't even try to lie, he could see right through you. he'd hate to push you with something you don't want to talk about, so the first time he didn't push you to say it. he offers hugs and kisses the whole night, but when tomorrow your frown never ceased, he of course follows up on it, and when you tell him the exact excuse like yesterday — he just figured that he'll do it his way.
"thinking about?"
"nothing, don't worry about it. it's pointless."
you were about to get up when he pulled you back, forcing your head to lay on his lap, "'ts not pointless if you're thinking about it, yeah?" he smiles down at you and you puckered your lips out in annoyance, knowing one way or another, geto is right.
"'s just..these people have been saying things. and i don't like it, i try to tell myself they'll stop when they get tired, but they don't seem to get tired at all." he caressed your face as you explained what's been bothering you, "and i'm starting to think that maybe they're right, y'know? maybe you do deserve better than me, sugu."
geto's face hardened a little and he leaned his face close to you, "what was that?" oh he was so upset. but not at you, he was upset at these people, and himself — upset that he hasn't done anything about it.
"i... forget about it."
"what do they look like?"
"what?" you ask him, blinking feverishly.
"these people," he mutters out, his breath fanning your face — you tell him what they look like and thought nothing of it, "'m sorry they made you think like that, but don't ever say that again, y'hear me?"
you smiled up at him and chuckled, "you have my words."
geto loves that you only show this side to him, and he had a "talk" with these exact people. so now words aren't going around anymore, no more shit talking, just you and geto in a happy relationship.
MEGUMI FUSHIGURO. megumi finds your unshakable character charming, that's why he fell for you in the first place. when he first met you, with the apparent frown on your face looking like you despised everything that comes in your way, megumi found it intriguing. so he tries anything to find out about you, asking from his upperclassmen.
he skipped asking gojo because he knew gojo would poke fun on him for it — but at the end of the day, gojo being a teacher did help a lot, minus the mocking that comes after.
"megumi has a crush," gojo sings out.
"i do not." yes he does.
gojo is a loud mouth, so words gone around pretty fast about megumi having a crush on you. unfortunately, it reached your ears and you pulled him over when he was passing by, and in his eyes — it seemed like you were glaring deeply at him, so he finds himself a little intimidated by you.
"heard from someone that you like me," you started out bluntly, and that was enough for megumi to blush furiously.
stumbling over his words as he tried to reply back to you, he mumbled out a few apologies, but you smiled at him, "that's great, i like you too!"
it was an oh. oh. situation for megumi, he just never expected that his feelings would be reciprocated, by you. by someone who looks like she would murder everyone who goes in her way or sight — but nonetheless, he was pretty happy about it although he didn't show it.
and surprisingly, megumi finds a new side to you that he never expected at all. you being clingy, your lips plastered in a soft smile, and just..all flowers and rainbows and sunshine.
megumi was entranced. everyday he sees you, he just falls even more. at one point, he couldn't help but to let it all slip out, telling you how happy he is with all of this and how he loves you a lot. but that's a one time thing, he never did it again (he tries not to slip out again).
"gumi!" he finds himself catching your body, a small smile on his face, "missed you."
"...me too."
he's always thought you'd be more of a calm person (at first), with all that facade of yours, but now — he sees you as a whole different person, he loves how clingy you are, and he loves how you sometimes depended on him. it makes him feel like a boyfriend.
he's smitten for you.
but he won't say it, you just have to wait for him to let it slip out.
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© CHURIPU 2023 , DO NOT COPY OR REPOST ANYWHERE !
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kaisfruit · 5 months
Note
Hello love! I love your posts so much and I was wondering if I could request a Cole smut one shot? I mean, I saw your head canons and you said you could go on for longer, girl please do!??
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Starved | Cole x Fem!Reader
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A/N; I DONT KNOW U TWO, BUT U TWO ANONS MWAH !!! I LOVE U GUYS! i wanted to go so in depth w cole cuz i am unbelievably attrracted to that man i aint afraid to admit it. also, neither of yall specified BUT! im going w fem!reader since u both came from the fem!reader hcs <3
warnings; nsfw under the cut <3, cunnilingus, size kink, pussy drunk cole, unprotected p in v (pls wrap it b4 u tap it yall), probably some typos/grammar mistakes cuz i am way too scared to ask anyone to read this beforehand, and uhh i think that's it!
word count; 4.4k (i may have gotten a bit carried away im sorry yall)
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Dinner was a favorite time amongst the ninja. It was time to unwind, to have fun, and enjoy each other's company. You had been chatting idly to Lloyd, who sat to your right, for a majority of the time. He was a bit quieter compared to some of the others (full shade to Jay, Kai, Cole, and Nya) and it seemed as if the mundane practice of just a normal conversation was a great relaxer for the green ninja, so he was definitely one of your preferred dinner companions. That didn’t mean there wasn’t chaos going on around you guys. Jay, who was to your left, seemed to be in a full shouting argument with Kai who sat directly across from the blue ninja. The topic of their angry musings was unknown to you, but Lloyd kept making commentary on it every now and again which you would happily add onto.
Across from you sat Cole, then to his left was Nya, and the head of the table was occupied by Zane while opposite him on the other end sat Pixal. Zane seemed content to exist in the company of all of you, only chiming in when he felt like it was needed, but he and Nya were definitely whispering jokes to each other every now again between bites of their food. Pixal, you noticed, was actually jokingly joining in on Kai and Jay’s argument. She would add in one point that was completely absurd and it would cause the other two to blow up again. That robot could be devious when she really wanted to be.
Then there was Cole. You were surprised that he wasn’t also a part of the argument, but you suppose the topic of…maybe devil worship? You weren’t sure, but still, whatever it was didn’t seem to interest the earth ninja. To be fair, you knew the other was prone to getting entranced into whatever he was eating at the moment and Zane had done wonderfully with tonight’s dinner (as he always did) so it was understandable really. 
“And, yeah, I don’t know. I just don’t really understand why I’ve always got to be doing something.” Lloyd finished his story up and you nodded along, having listened intently the entire time. 
“I don’t know either man,” you shrugged as you took a sip of your water, “your shit is always getting rocked one way or another.” That caused a slight snort of amusement to exit the green ninja. “I mean, I would’ve already changed my government name and gone into hiding if I were in your shoes.”
Lloyd let out a sigh. “That’s the dream. I don’t know if I could do all of that. Couldn’t leave you guys behind at all. That’d suck big time. Ninjago should just get its shit together so we can have some slice of life anime lives.” You nodded enthusiastically at that idea.
“Ooo yeah. And then we could have like fun drama like…what outfit am I going to wear tomorrow or oh no my hair is so bad!” 
“Yes! You’re getting it.” Lloyd grinned. “I think I should get a cat.” His mind wandered constantly, so you were only slightly jarred by the sudden conversation change. “I’ve heard that their purrs do some sort of healing and I could for sure use some of that.”
“I think we’d all like having a cat around.” You added on. “They’re sort of independent, so it would be a good pet for our lifestyle.”
Lloyd was about to respond to you, y’know how conversations work, when all of a sudden Jay slammed his palms onto the table as the “argument” had escalated. It caused the table to shake and before you could stop it your water glass had fallen down and drenched your shirt. You let out a loud gasp which quickly caught the attention of everyone.
“Oh my God, [name], I’m so sorry!” Jay began profusely apologizing, scrambling about the table to find some napkins. Kai was howling with laughter just happy to not be the one who fucked something up. Lloyd was a bit in shock, Zane and Nya had both gotten up to grab some towels from the kitchen with Pixal not far behind, and Cole seemed to be frozen. You were too caught up in the water seeping through your clothes to notice, but the ninja sat opposite you seemed to have his eyes locked onto you, his body tense.
“Jay, it’s fine.” You quickly reassured as you stood up, Cole’s eyes following the movement carefully, “I’ll just go get changed. It’s no big deal.” You tried giving the blue ninja a comforting smile, but you could tell the guilt was already eating him alive and it’d be hard to get him out of that state for a while. You’d try again later, you decided.
Letting those who had left to the kitchen know where you were going, you made your way to your room with your arms held awkwardly in the air so that the weird feeling of the wet fabric wouldn’t be sticking to your skin too bad. Before you could forget, you made a quick stop by the bathroom in order to grab a towel from the cabinet.
Finally having made it to your room, you were quick to tug your shirt off and throw it somewhere on the floor. A sigh of relief left your lips as you began to dry off your top half with the previously acquired towel. With a frown, you removed your bra as well since the water had made it to that garment too and once you were sure your skin felt dry you dropped the towel onto your bed and you made your way to your closet.
You were bent over getting into your dresser looking for a new bra when you heard a knock on the door.
“Who is it?” You called over your shoulder, still digging around in the dresser. 
“Uhhh Cole! Is it okay if I come in?”
“I’m sort of changing right now!”
“I won’t look!”
You huffed out a laugh at that. It was sort of indecent to let him in when you were like that, but he did promise not to look. But what if he did? That thought caused your cheeks to heat up a bit. To be completely honest, you were almost entirely head over heels for the earth ninja. The only reason you didn’t choose to spend every dinner chatting to him is because you knew part of you would slip up and embarrass yourself in one way or another. Not to say he didn’t do his fair share of embarrassing himself, but you found that endearing. He’d probably think you were weird and off putting if you were to just slip up randomly. 
“Fiiinneeee!” You agreed against your better judgment. “No peeking!”
You could hear a chuckle rumble from the man as the faint sound of the door clicking open hit your ears. Chancing a glance behind you, you smiled fondly at the sight of Cole with his hands over his eyes as he shut the door behind him. He stood completely still after that too scared to make his way to a place to sit with him completely blind like that.
“Soooo, what’s up?” You finally asked, trying to not get irritated at the fact that you couldn’t seem to find another bra in your dresser.
“I just wanted to check in on you.” Cole answered, his voice strained. “I’ll gladly beat Jay up for you. Swear.” That had you giggling.
“You’d beat Jay up over anything.” You rolled your eyes. “You’re just looking for an excuse to.”
“Nuh uh.”
“You can take a seat, y’know.” You changed the topic, about damn near close to giving up and just going braless (you wouldn’t actually. It sounded comfortable, but you didn’t want to expose yourself like that.)
Cole cleared his throat slightly. “No way! I’d totally bump into like a shelf or something!! All of your shit would be broken and then I’d have to beat myself up after beating up Jay!”
Another laugh escaped you at that. Was all of it made funnier by the fact that it was Cole? Maybe. Afterwards, you went silent as your mind began racing. This could be your chance? Would he think it’s weird?
“Hey, I,” you bit your lip in a pause, “I don’t mind if you open your eyes…” You finally spoke, getting ready to just laugh it off like it was just a joke. What a prankster you are!
Cole seemed to go oddly silent after you said that and you were sweating bullets. The tension that filled the room was suffocating. Quickly, you snapped up with your back still to Cole. That action was followed by the sound of footsteps almost as if the other ninja had begun walking closer.
You were about ready to apologize profusely when Cole’s low voice broke the silence, “can I ask you something, [name]?”
“Anything…” You murmured, still facing the other way.
“Can I…” There was a pause, an eerily similar pause to the one you had earlier. He was hesitant as he seemed to be fighting some inner battle.
Without thinking, you quickly turned around not caring about your current topless situation and you pulled Cole down in order to plant a fierce kiss to his lips. You were about to apologize for your impulsivity and how you should’ve asked first and not assumed, but Cole’s hands came to rest on your waist and he let out a low groan as he melted into the kiss.
You weren’t small by any means, but it was making your knees weak at the feeling of his hands just absolutely dwarfing your waist. Those hands pulled you closer to where your chest was pressed against him and the feeling of the bulge in his pants against your hips caused you to gasp which he took advantage of and slipped his tongue into your mouth. You let out a small whine at the action, but quickly reciprocated even if you let him have control of the kiss.
Eventually, the need for air arose and you reluctantly parted with him, a string of saliva connecting the two of you. His eyes searched yours, as if something in your gaze held the answer to every question he had ever asked, as his hands slowly wandered to the area beneath your ass. After a bit of panting between the two of you, the kiss quickly resumed and he lifted you up easily causing your stomach to do flips. You wrapped both of your legs around his back and took appreciation in the new angle as it was much easier than having him lean down as much as he was.
The kiss broke as his lips began trailing downward. A shiver ran down your spine at the sensation of his lips on your neck and your breath hitched as he lightly nipped and sucked at the skin there.
“You’re gorgeous…” He breathed against your neck.
Between your harsh intakes of breath, you eventually got out, “Cole, I need you.” Which caused another low groan to escape him.
“You don’t know how many times I’ve thought about hearing that come from your lips.” Cole had begun walking over to your bed and gently sat you down atop it as he crawled on top of you. He had barely even done anything, but you already felt like your brain was turning into mush. The sight of his body hovering over yours is something you’ve only ever dreamed about and you subconsciously rubbed your thighs together. That movement caught his attention, but he had to pace himself. Make sure everything was alright with you. You were operating at hyperspeed, however, and began reaching to the hem of his shirt. That didn’t go unnoticed by him either and he was quick to yank the material up and over his head. He flung the shirt onto the floor of your room as you laid there, stunned, at the sight of his body.
Cole was, well you knew he was big, but he was beefy. Clearly, he was muscular, but he had some chubbiness going for him as well and, God, you don’t know if you’ve ever needed anyone more. He was perfect. You started to sit up so that you could absolutely just feel him up, but he didn’t let you get up. Instead, he ran his hands down your stomach towards your shorts. You looked at him confused and he just leaned in close, his breath fanning across your ear.
“I want to make this about you.” His hands had successfully unbuttoned and zipped down your shorts. “Call me selfish, but I need to make you feel good. What kind of man would I be if I didn’t treat you like the finest piece of cake in the damn bakery?” To many, that’d be a cause for laughter, but knowing Cole, that meant everything. He slowly pulled away from your ear and you couldn’t help but look at him with the purest look of adoration after that. Even in a situation as intimate as this, he still managed to get the butterflies in your stomach to go haywire.
Cole slowly slid your shorts down your legs and off of your body. They probably ended up somewhere near where his shirt did. His eyes were transfixed at the wet spot that had formed on your underwear and he found himself subconsciously licking his lips. You, on the other hand, were staring at him with anticipation wondering what his next move would be. Gingerly, his hands came to rest on your waist and you shivered. His thumbs hooked into the last garment you had on, but he paused to look up at you. His eyes were searching yours once more.
“Is this okay?” He finally asked, his voice soft. Your enthusiastic nod put him into action and he quickly slid your panties off of your legs.
Cole could’ve sworn he was fucking salivating at the sight of your core fully exposed to him. He placed his hands underneath your knees and used that position to spread your legs open for ease of access. Knowing he still had his pants on, you were curious to what his current plan was until your eyes widened as you watched his head lower to rest between your thighs. Your face was flushed red and you could feel yourself trembling slightly. What he was about to do was just so…intimate? It felt more like a once the relationship has officially started activity, but it seems he wasn’t even kidding when he said he’d treat you like cake. Was he trying to ruin you for anyone else? (As if you’d want anyone else.)
The breath was knocked out of you as he took one small lick of you. You could’ve sworn you heard a noise escape him as well, but you weren’t given time to even think as he instantly dove back in. He had started eating you out like a man starved. His tongue moved along your pussy masterfully, making careful movements along your clit which caused punctuated whines to escape your mouth. You couldn’t help but reach a hand down to rest on the back of his head which he seemed to enjoy. Cole then made his tongue flatten out in order to lap up as much of your juices as possible. As if this wasn’t enough to get his fill, his tongue finally plunged into your hole and a gasp left your lips that slowly morphed into a low moan. This man was eating you up and you’re pretty sure your mind was completely gone by this point. What was your name? Who cares? Cole was giving you pleasure you had never experienced before and that’s literally all that mattered at this point. If your head wasn’t so far up in the clouds, you probably would’ve noticed that Cole was grinding up against the bed as he ate you out. 
Your grip tightened in Cole’s hair and a moan left his lips which seemed to vibrate along your cunt. 
“C-Cole–” His name was but a mere whimper along your lips and it only encouraged him to move his mouth against you faster. You felt the knot in your stomach twist up as your peak approached. You were practically grinding up against his tongue which Cole enjoyed immensely. He could not get enough and it rewarded him as you practically exploded all over his tongue. He was licking up as much of your climax as he could as you were still shaking in post-orgasmic bliss. Your vision felt blurry at the continued stimulation that carried you down from your high and you were faintly aware of the moans and whimpers making their way out of your throat.
Honestly, you had expected him to stop, but even one orgasm wasn’t enough to satisfy him. Cole was still lost in the taste of your pussy. You felt a bit of pain flare up at the overstimulation and you were trying to gently pull at his hair.
“Cole,” you whimpered, “h…hurts.” That fell on deaf ears as he just continued on. You thought he hadn’t heard you, but a shit eating look was sent your way and you knew he was trying to work you up. 
“Just one more.” He growled along your folds as he moved up to suck on your clit which caused a jolt to travel through your body. It seems as if he had enough of your trembles as his arms came up to rest on your thighs. The position still keeping your legs spread, but his strength kept your lower half still as he continued his ‘feast’. Your moans and whines had definitely picked up in pace at this moment as the pain began to border on pleasure.
Your second orgasm came much faster.
He licked it up just as enthusiastically as he did the first time. You think he probably would’ve tried to keep going for a third time if you didn’t forcefully pull him up this time. There was a sheen of your slick that shined around Cole’s mouth and you looked away slightly in embarrassment. Cole, meanwhile, was licking around his mouth trying to get whatever he had missed. 
Your chest rose and fell rapidly as you attempted to catch your breath after all of that. The shifting of Cole’s body was what finally caught your attention. The ninja was moving himself from above your body to your side and it looked as if he was moving to lay down next to you. All signs of lethargy left your body as you quickly sat up and rested a hand on his chest. Cole stared at you with a tilt of his head, the confusion bubbling within him evident.
“What about you?” You asked, still breathing a bit heavy.
“What about me?” Cole replied a bit dumbly.
“You know…” You muttered, a tad bit embarrassed, but you rested a hand over his painfully hard bulge in his pants. The feeling caused him to shiver and he looked down, realization dawning on him.
“Oh, it’s okay.” He said, picking your hand up and removing it from his crotch. “I said I just wanted to take care of you, right?”
“Yeah you did,” you started, “but I said I need you, didn’t I?” Cole nodded slowly, but a small frown was still on his face.
“Aren’t you tired?”
A sigh left your mouth. “A little, BUT.” You emphasized, noticing how he had opened his mouth to speak after you said that. “God damnit Cole. No way am I going to finally get you into my bed just to have you not dick me down. I don’t care how sensitive I am, I need you to fuck me.” You could barely believe what you had just said, but it got the job done. Albeit a bit slowly.
“...Are you sure? I don’t wanna hurt you…”
“I have never been more fucking sure in my life.”
Seeing as he wasn’t moving, you lunged over to him to begin slipping his basketball shorts down. Noticing your haste, Cole finally started taking initiative. If it’s what you wanted then he just had to give it. With a better method, Cole slipped off his shorts and boxers off together in one swift motion. And, boy, did he not disappoint. EVERY part of him was big, you had just found out. Saliva pooled up in your mouth at the sight of his cock as you couldn’t take your size off of it. If you weren’t so needy, you probably would’ve taken him into your mouth right then and there, but Cole already had a hand on your shoulder forcing you to lay back down as he positioned himself right above you again.
Your pussy was definitely still slick from the mix of your own arousal and Cole’s saliva and he ran a finger between your folds before shoving it into you. His tongue hadn’t been as thick as his finger, but it still wasn’t much to adjust to. The second finger proved to be more filling and your breath was once again escaping in huffs. 
It took a bit until Cole had either thought you ready or just gotten impatient, but he pulled his fingers out of you and lined his dick up with your entrance. A pause. You were about ready to complain until the breath was taken swiftly from your lungs as he slowly pushed in. As he slid in further and further, the more your breaths turned into short moans. It felt as if he filled absolutely every part of you and it was addicting. The stretch hurt, but it was so deliciously overpowered by the pleasure of him finally being inside you. Though, Cole still didn’t even attempt to move until you gave him the go ahead.
From there, he started at a slow but deep pace. It was a sensual experience. Above you, Cole was letting out little huffs and groans at the feeling of your walls around his member. He could explode right then and there if he wanted to. But, he continued at this pace of almost completely removing himself from your hole before pushing balls deep back in. It was excruciating.
“F..fa…faster.” You panted at him. And who would he be if he denied you this request?
The sound of skin slapping skin echoed around the room as Cole slowly began picking up the pace. His hips were pistoning in and out of you at a rapid pace, and you think you finally understood the phrasing of “being fucked stupid.”
Every push in had you moaning loudly. It was either moans or a broken moan of Cole’s name which made him go in a bit harder every time you did that. His head hung low until it was resting in the crook of your neck. The groans and low moans that were leaving the man only turned you on more and you about screamed his name when he bit into your neck. There were no thoughts of anyone here at the monastery hearing you two, as far as you cared, you and Cole were the only people in Ninjago at this point. All of your senses seemed to be completely filled by the man anyways.
The feeling of his licking, sucking, and biting along your neck combined with his rough abuse of your pussy brought you close to your third climax of the night which might be a record for you.
“C-Cole, I’m-I’m close.” You whined, your voice barely audible over the sound of him fucking you.
“God, me too.” He moaned against your neck. Cole was determined to not let go until you had, so he reached a hand down to start playing with your clit as he continued fucking into you. That absolutely sent you over the edge and you screamed as you came all over Cole’s cock. He continued thrusting into you throughout your orgasm which only made it feel that much better. His hips began stuttering in their movements and he was quick to pull himself out of the vice grip your pussy had on him. Cole wrapped a hand around his cock and jerked himself off the rest of the way until his cum started landing on your stomach. He let out tiny grunts as he fucked into his hand a bit before letting go.
You made sure he was looking at you when you scooped up some of his release and licked it off your fingers. He really had to save that image for the next time he masterbated.
Before he even allowed himself to lay down next to you, Cole carefully got up and reached for the towel you had used earlier to dry yourself off and used it to wipe his release off of your stomach, a small ‘sorry’ leaving his mouth as he did so. He was cute. 
Finally, his body dropped harshly at your side and you giggled tiredly at him. Cole rolled over to look at you and you held your arms open, a silent question for him to come cuddle you. 
His strong arms wrapped around your body and you rested your head on his chest, listening to his calming heartbeat. Cole found where your covers started and threw them over the both of you which only made you snuggle in even closer to him.
You two sat there in silence for so long, just catching your breaths, that you nearly fell asleep.
“Hey, [name].” You startled at the sound of his voice. A non-committal ‘hm?’ is what you hummed in response and he just rested his nose on the top of your head in your hair. “Do you want to go on a date with me?”
A content sigh left your lips and you sleepily looked up, causing him to remove his head from its place. “Of course, Cole.” One of your hands slipped out from under the covers and cradled one of his cheeks. You leaned up and placed a gentle kiss on the other cheek. 
“Now, let’s get some sleep. We can talk about the details later.” You said through a yawn and he just smiled at you fondly. You both returned to your previous positions and slowly drifted off, and for once, neither of you felt fear or dread for what was to come in the future.
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thebelovedmuse · 1 year
Text
Mwah!
Summary: You hang out with Wally and realize the poor guy doesn't know how to kiss.
Contents: Tooth-rotting fluff, short one-shot Wally x GN!Reader
A/N: I haven't written in a bit and I needed to get this idea out my head. Wally not knowing how to kiss gives me cute-aggression.
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Wally had insisted on taking you to this large apple tree in the meadow. You glance over it, thinking that it was indeed a great place for reading or napping in the sun. You lay down the blanket and get comfortable sitting next to Wally in the shade. The two of you had been spending more time together and you found yourself developing feelings for him.  For the moment you had decided to keep those feelings to yourself, not sure of how Wally would react.
You were excited to continue the book that you had been reading to Wally for the last few hang outs. As you read aloud you feel a nervous energy coming from Wally. He can’t seem to get comfortable, shifting around constantly.  
You see out the corner of your eye, Wally’s face coming closer. You feel your face flush as this moment you were waiting for is finally happening. Suddenly you feel Wally’s face collide with your cheek, he pulls back with a “Mwah!”
You freeze for a moment, confused by the sudden bonk on the face.
“Wally, what…was that?”
“A kiss, silly!”
You’re not sure if you should be blushing or laughing, you feel like doing both. “Wally that is…not…a kiss,” you say hesitantly, you didn’t want to embarrass him. “Oh?! Then how does a kiss work?” Wally says as his face lights up in curiosity. You start to wonder if he can even feel embarrassment. You certainly can though as you feel a blush creep up your cheeks while you think through how to explain to Wally how kissing works. You try to quickly push through an explanation to Wally, he seems eager to learn but you’re not sure if he understood a single thing you said. You finally accept that you would have to show him. “Here Wally, like this…” you say as you lean in, giving him a kiss on the cheek. Wally’s eyes fly open and you swear you saw his pupils get massively larger for a second.
“Oh, neighbor, that was amazing! Does that mean we’re together now?”
“Wait what?....What?” You feel your brain become overwhelmed, so many questions and revelations happening so quickly.
“You know since we kissed and all. I thought that’s how people in a relationship act? Eddie and Frank kiss all the time.”
“I mean they do Wally but, they kiss on the lips? That’s more of a romantic thing and that was a kiss on the cheek I wasn’t sure what…” you find yourself rambling. You then realize that Wally has repositioned himself kneeling in front you. You start to question him when he springs forward, colliding with you at such force that you fall back a bit, catching yourself with your forearms behind you. You’re surprised at how quickly Wally has learned as his lips press against yours, this time in an actual kiss.  You feel his lips and the weight of him leaning on you lift as he sits back. “How was that?” he asks. “That was…perfect, Wally,” you say as your face turns pink.
“So we’re together now, right?”
“Wally was this whole thing a way to ask me out?”
“It was, neighbor! I asked Barnaby for some tips but I came up with most of the plan on my own.”
You giggle to yourself, of course he did. You reach over and grab his hand, you notice a light blush on Wally’s face.
“So does this mean I can kiss you whenever I want, neighbor?”
Wally Icon created by @nyan-editmaidcafe
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marthawrites · 7 months
Note
"don't shut me out. please"
I hope it is not too late for me to join the celebration ☺️ Congratulations! 💕👏🏼
Thank you sooososo much! You are such a gem and I appreciate all of your fandom love more than you know! I did my best to include a (one shot appropriate) slow burn, angst, and a happy ending. I hope you enjoy this ride MWAH!
Summer's End, Autumn's Beginning
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Modern Aemond Targaryen x fem reader
Word Count: 6.3k+
About: A chance encounter with Aemond leads to a whirlwind of emotions. Over the next few months you both fail, in yourselves and in the relationship, and learn from the mistakes.
Includes: Chance encounter, age difference (references to Aemond x Alys) mentions of cheating, allusions to cheating, angst, second chance romance, and smut featuring vaginal fingering, possessive sex, and unprotected protected vaginal sex
Note: Hello lovely reader! This is the longest piece I've wrote in quite awhile - whew! I also feel like it's one of the more ambitious one-shot fics I've worked on/completed. Reader is non-descript. As always, please, enjoy!
-
I.
There were two things tied for number one on your five-year goal list.
First, be out of your city apartment (preferably as a home owner and not a renter)
Second, have a dog. 
They went hand in hand. One couldn’t happen without the other. So, it was a hard tie and you weren’t willing to budge on either. Until then, to take the edge off your self-proclaimed animal loneliness, you volunteered at a local shelter two nights a week. Mondays and Wednesdays.
While your day job wasn’t a doctor, lawyer, or professional athlete – ones that your family pushed you to have while growing up – it still paid decently and had the potential for career advancement. And! You were able to live on your own. Not having a roommate was worth the dry job description. Besides, your boss was fair and most of your co-workers were friendly; a win win, really.
Tonight, Monday, you finished your shift, went home to change, then headed out to the shelter. Even though it was all volunteer hours you valued punctuality and did your best to get there around the same time each night.
“Hey! You made it!” Arryk called out to you when you stepped inside the building. Chaos sparked all around. He did a great job running and maintaining the schedule, and with the help of volunteers alongside regular staff, it was, more often than not, smooth sailing. Tonight, however, it appeared quite the opposite.
“Hey! Yeah, a few minutes later than usual, sorry!” You said as you walked over to him.
He waved a hand brushing off your apology. “No worries. We had a few people call in today. So, since being short staffed we’re definitely running behind. I know you normally help bathe the dogs with Baela tonight, but can I ask you to do something else instead?” He winced slightly with his question, unsure of your answer. He knew how much you loved Baela and cleaning the dogs!
You squinted at him suspiciously. “Why are you looking at me like that?” You asked, crossing your arms. “You know I won’t administer shots. If I could get over my fear of needles I’d be a veterinarian and not an office worker like I am!” You scrunched your brows before one, all on its own accord, arched up dubiously.
“Ha!” He laughed. “No no no, I know. We have six dogs that need walking tonight. And I don’t think Targaryen can handle all of ‘em.”
“Helaena? She’s back?” You asked, eyes bright with surprise.
“She’s still away for that college trip. It’s her younger brother, Aemond. Have you met him before?”
You’d heard Helaena talk about him, of course, but you’d never met him. Shaking your head, you peered around the shelter looking for anyone else with the Targaryen tell-tale silver-blonde hair. No one caught your eye. “I haven’t. But, I don’t mind.”
“You are a lifesaver!” He praised. “He’s down the west hall getting them ready. Depending on how long you're here afterward, there might be another couple who could use a second walk. Terriers. You know how they are.”
“Happy to help, Arryk!” He was a good guy. You’d always liked him.
“Aemond’s tall, towheaded as the rest of his family, and has an eyepatch. You can’t miss him.” And with that Cargyll switched tasks and got right back to work.
Turning and walking down the west hall, you were happy to say, chaos began to fizzle out. This hall had the larger dogs; no wonder Aemond wouldn’t be able to walk all six at once. Even with the slow turn of summer to autumn sunset wouldn’t be for another three hours. Assuming all went well you’d be able to walk the second batch of dogs, too. 
Down the aisle were five opened doors with each respective dog ready for their walk. Their leashes were hooked onto the door so they couldn’t run amuck. You patted and scratched them, earning yourself more wagging tails, a few happy barks, and some excited licks. Looking to the end of the hall you saw someone who you assumed was your evening walking partner. He was kneeling, talking soothingly to a great big senior hound, while clasping the final buckle of their harness. “Hello, uh-, Aemond?” You called out feeling slightly self-conscious. 
Still kneeling, he turned his head to look up at you. Any softness in his single eye quickly hardened to match the rest of his sharp features. “Hey,” he said, caught off guard by your presence; someone he’d never seen calling him out by name. “Is there something I can help you with?” Slowly, in a single fluid motion, he stood up and the aged dog kept his eyes on him the whole time, panting happily.
Whoa. He was tall. And, at first sight, incredibly good looking: dressed in casual black clothes, long silver hair tied into a braid, with a scar along the left side of his face that you had to tell yourself not to stare at. His mouth was a unique shape, too, and you weren’t sure if he was merely waiting for a response or if he was smirking the tiniest pout at you. “Hi,” you said again with a nervous laugh. You told him your name. “Arryk sent me. Said you could use some help with the walk tonight?” ‘Play it cool, dummy. He’s really handsome, so what? He could be a huge asshole. Play. It. Cool,’ your inner voice said.
Did he have a mechanical eye beneath his patch? The way he looked at you, then, made you feel like he read your thoughts. “Ah. I could certainly use the help,” he said smoothly with a small curve of lip, turning his attention to the three dogs at the front of the hallway. “Wanna take those three?” He asked, looping the big dog’s leash around his wrist. “I mean, you can have any of them as long as I get this guy. He’s my favorite.”
Your pulse raced a little too fast. Clearing your throat, you smiled in an attempt to ease the butterflies in your belly. “I don’t mind. Why is he your favorite?” You turned and began to unclasp leashes from their doors; happy tips and taps of claws growing louder at the pups’ excitement.
“Reminds me of my girl at home,” Aemond replied, adoration clear in his voice. “Big and old, a little stinky, a little slobbery. The best kind, really.”
“Aw, that’s very sweet. I don’t have any pets. I get my fix here,” you laughed. Holding all three dogs in one hand, you pulled the door open with the other. Except, it didn’t open. On instinct, you tried again hoping Aemond didn’t notice.
He strode up next to you with the rest of the dogs in tow, smirking at you for real this time, as he said, “it’s a push door.”
You knew it was a push door. Fuck. He gave you a knowing glance over his shoulder as he walked out, waiting for you to follow along.
II.
You didn’t see Aemond on Wednesday and you couldn’t deny your disappointment when you left for the night. Come to find out you two had been volunteering at the same place for months – only on different days. He tended to be there Tuesdays and Thursdays. 
Monday had been a chance encounter. One you couldn’t shake out of your head. 
Before leaving tonight, however, you took a selfie with Aemond’s favorite old hound. You’d exchanged numbers but hadn’t an excuse to strike up a conversation. Yet. Now, with the selfie as an excuse, you opened a fresh text thread and sent him the photo along with:
Someone missed you tonight! 
While buckling up in your car and getting ready to reverse out of your parking spot, your phone dinged with an incoming message:
Very cute. Will you be there on Monday? Maybe Cargyll will assign up walking duties again.
Your belly flipped. Truthfully, you weren’t expecting him to message back – especially so quickly. Before you could stop yourself you sent back:
Yup! See you then?
And he sent:
I’ll find another excuse to be there. 
Feeling a little bold, you replied:
Excited to see you again! You have these adorable dimples when you smile. Maybe I’ll see those, too?
When nothing came through for a few minutes, you feared you might have gone too far. It was just a little innocent flirting, right? Nothing bad? And then:
Maybe so. See you Monday.
Smiling, you didn’t send anything back. It’d be your luck to say something dumb and rub him the wrong way. 
During your first walk, as soon as the ice broke, you both clicked really well. Hopefully – just maybe – things would flow like that again. The connection you felt, something akin to a liveware, couldn’t have been one-sided. He had to feel a spark of it, too; even if just a little.
You drove home, made dinner while facetiming one of your friends from uni, and when she asked about the spark in your eye you told her about your friend Helaena’s younger brother.
III.
“I seriously cannot believe you’ve never seen The Lord of the Rings. The Hobbit trilogy was a little silly, but watchable. But you haven’t even seen that?” Aemond asked clearly aghast at your lack of understanding his reference.
Tonight, you both got walking duty again and neither of you complained. And, this time, he regarded you with a softer look in his eye than his original sharp glance. He was dressed in dark casuals again and you hated (loved?) how good he made them look. His hair was in a bun and his eyepatch stayed firmly in place. You wanted to ask him about it but weren’t sure if you should try it yet. Instead, you rolled your eyes and laughed. “You’re making it sound better and better the more you talk about it.”
“That’s because it’s the best.” The dogs pulled both of you along and you had to walk brisker than normal to keep up with them and Aemond’s longer legs. He seemed unaffected by it.
“So, you recommend I watch it?” You asked playfully.
“No,” he started, very serious. “I recommend you read it first and then watch the movies.”
If you had more breath in your lungs you’d have giggled – not laughed, but giggled. Something about the way he said it, and the totally serious look on his face, tickled you. “Will you watch them with me?”
The question appeared to catch Aemond off guard. He looked at you, lingering over your pinkened cheeks and smirking lips, before finally making it back to your eyes. Just when he opened his mouth to say something in reply, a completely unrelated thing stole his attention. Sometime during your bantering you’d made it back to the shelter, and a tall dark-haired woman called out, “there’s my sweet Aemond. I’ve been trying to get a hold of you and you haven’t been answering your phone.”
If you thought Aemond attractive, this woman made him look like any regular ol' Joe. She was elegant, warmed by a late summer tan, and had raven dark hair cascading down her back; truly a vision of enchantment. When she sauntered to him and pressed her body to his, you felt like a voyeur watching the embrace.
“Alys,” Aemond breathed quietly. “What do you want?”
“You know what I want,” she answered as she trailed manicured fingers across the front of his chest.
She had a timeless look to her, the kind that concealed her age. She could have been anywhere from twenty-five to fifty, you thought. You really hadn’t a clue. All you knew, now, is that you should finish your task alone.
Aemond’s throat bobbed as he swallowed. Posture tense. “I told you I was busy tonight–”
Before you could stop yourself you cut him off with an awkward wave. “See you later, Aemond.” And, with that, you walked inside before you overheard anything else they might be saying to each other. Turning to glance over your shoulder one last time, you were met with a look of deliberate triumph from Alys; she had the greenest eye you’d ever seen. 
It was haunting.
Driving home, you felt stupid. Aemond was just a guy you just met. It was silly to think someone like him would be single and even sillier to think your innocent flirtations would be working on him. You had half a mind to delete his number. Or, at the very least to delete the short message thread of your texts.
Instead of making dinner like you normally did, you called in delivery and facetimed with your friend as you waited. She immediately knew something was off and you were quick to tell her everything that happened.
Twenty minutes passed and you were starting to feel better. It’s not like you two hooked up or even kissed. It was just a chance meeting with playful banter. Nothing to get shook up about. “Food’s here. Thanks for listening to me. I’ll talk to you later. Love you!” You said as you got up to answer the door. 
When all else failed, your favorite food could always make you feel better.
Turning the tv on and sitting down amongst your couch pillows and blankets, you were getting ready to dig in when your phone rang. 
Aemond. 
Your insides did a weird flip and hunger disappeared entirely from your mind and belly. Should you answer? Let it go to voicemail? Turn the stupid thing off and completely ignore him? Right before the final ring, you decided. “Hello?”
“Hey,” he said, immediately sounding relieved. “I’m sorry about that. I wasn’t yet ready to call it a night with you.”
“It’s no biggie,” you replied. Lying. “I didn’t want to interrupt anything–,” you paused, searching for something else to say to soften the edge of your voice, “–the dogs were getting tired anyway.” God. It sounded stupid even to your own ears.
Aemond sighed through the phone. You wondered if he slid his hand down his face or through his hair. It sounded like he did. “No. Alys is… it’s complicated. She’s my ex and–”
“ –you don’t have to explain anything to me,” you said, cutting him off. “Really. It’s fine.” Despite it being a phone call, you tried to smile as if it would blunt the dismissal of your tone.
“I mean it,” he said. “I really wasn’t ready to say bye yet. What do you say you skip your regular Wednesday night plans and grab a milkshake or something with me?”
Your insides flipped again but for an entirely different reason this time. You knew it: the sparks definitely weren’t one sided. The firm set of Aemond’s jaw and the rigidness of his shoulders flashed once more in your mind’s eye. Since your break up with your long-term boyfriend you’d been on a few dates, but none of them lead to anything worthwhile. With how you and Aemond clicked, however? This date might lead to something more than a hook-up (or, attempt at a hook-up. Some men truly had no game). “Are you sure…?” You asked after a moment. “You and Alys looked pretty comfortable–,”
“ –I’m sure,” it was his turn to cut you off.
“Alright then. Let’s do it.”
IV.
It'd been two months since your first milkshake date with Aemond – the first of many dates. It was a guilty pleasure of yours and apparently one of his, too!
Your first kiss, first time meeting his elder dog, Vhagar, and first time meeting his family were all memories you cherished. 
The more you learned about Aemond’s relationship with Alys, the more you understood it "complicated". Including Targaryen drama, Targaryen business, and a list of other things you had a hard time following. It didn’t matter anymore, though, Aemond reassured you. Things were done between them and he only wanted you; proving it to you with fingers and mouth until you begged for a break.
A lesson you learned from your last relationship – one Aemond learned from his, too – was to be careful with love. As much as you genuinely enjoyed him and his company, a barrier stood between you that neither dared yet to cross.
Love.
Each day you fell for him a little more; you were scared to admit it. The scar of heartbreak healed slowly. Could you truly trust Aemond with that part of yourself? With the very essence of your heart? It’d been two months and you still weren’t entirely sure.
If he felt the same he’d say something, right?
Autumn blanketed the lands with brisk air, rainy days, and rolling fog. As days grew short and nights long, you and Aemond spent more time at your apartment or his quarter at the Targaryen estate. Your apartment was the clear favorite. Living alone had its perks: never having to worry about nosy family or friends who showed up unannounced.
And thank God you didn’t live with anyone else. 
"Mmh… fuck, baby, I've been thinking about this all day. I can't get enough of you. Let me make my girl feel good," he said against your mouth as one of his hands moved up the inside of your thigh. "Are you wet already? I bet you are," he chuckled, fingertips tracing your slit. "Mmm… I knew it. Your clit is sooo needy, isn't it?" 
Shit. Those hushed words, the glint in his eye, his rasped tone… you happily indulged him in whatever way he wanted. And him, you. Fingers, mouth, cock, he quickly learned what tricks made you melt. 
As much as he loved having you ride him, or bending you over, his absolute favorite was fucking you into the mattress. You sprawled out beneath him, hair messy and fanned out around your head, legs wrapped tight around his waist, fingernails on his body… he could never get enough of your blushed face beneath him, trembling and arching as he pushed you to peak after peak.
Your sheets had never been cleaned so often in your entire life.
It was particularly rainy today and you were both finished with everything on your to-do list. Aemond sat on the floor in front of you as you lounged in your overstuffed chair. You told him you'd read the Lord of the Rings as long as he read it to you. He didn't even pretend to be annoyed by your bargain. He read to you from his own collection, claiming he liked the worn feeling of the pages better than a new book's pages. 
Like any proper reader Aemond started with The Hobbit. You enjoyed it more than you thought you would. More so than the story, however, you enjoyed him reading aloud to you – he had the loveliest voice. You were about half way through The Fellowship of the Ring and the story continued to get better.
But, all afternoon, Aemond's phone never stopped going off. It seemed like every few minutes it would ping with some kind of notification. "Who's blowing you up?" You asked, annoyance creeping into your tone.
Stopping mid sentence, he looked. "Alys," he sighed as he scrolled through the various messages. 
You tried to not look over his shoulder to the texts. You really did. But there was something about Aemond's shift in posture, and the air around him, that made you suspicious. "What's going on?" You asked in your best nonchalant manner.
"She's asking if I have some of her clothes at my place still," he answered and you swore you saw pink spread atop his cheeks.
That caught you off guard. "Why would she have clothes–"
And whatever else you were going to say was abruptly cut off.
There, in a new string of messages, was the single text line, "I miss you, baby boy," followed by at least three photographs of Alys in lingerie and various stages of undress. 
"What the fuck Aemond!?" You asked, anger and hurt instantly warming your blood. "What the hell were those? Are you fucking joking?"
"I have no idea why she sent–"
" –is that why she left clothes at your place? Couldn't let her go for real? Jesus Christ I can't believe you." Anger flushed your face and bittered your words.
"Listen, please. Hear me out, bab–"
" –oh fuck off, Aemond, you don't get to 'babe' me around anymore. In fact, just leave."
He looked as hurt as you. And shocked. A hundred emotions played across his chiseled features. "No, really. Let me explain," he pleaded with eye and tone.
You weren't having it. You were cheated on before and he knew it. It made your own hurt cleave even deeper. You really fucking liked him. Maybe even loved him. And this whole time he had you and Alys? "I'm seriously about to get really fucking angry. Leave. Now."
He stood and left. Silent fury screamed around him like a whirlwind. He didn't even give you one final look over his shoulder.
He shut your door with a deliberate click.
You curled up in your blanket alone as fat ugly tears streamed down your face. You couldn't be bothered to grab a tissue for your snotty nose. 
Aemond's leather jacket was still draped over the back of your couch and his book still lay on the floor. Your crying somehow turned uglier at the realization.
Eventually you dozed off. With Aemond, you always had your phone on silent so you didn't hear all his missed calls and texts.
V.
The following month went by in a blur; you drowned yourself in work. You also stopped volunteering because you didn't want to give Aemond the opportunity to meet you there. By some feat of strength you ignored all his attempts at talking – and by proxy, apologizing.
The only thing you said to him was a single text:
I need time. Please understand
Part of you wondered how it affected him. His calls and texts became sparse until they eventually stopped.
Helaena asked where you'd been and you felt horrible lying to her. So, you didn't. After telling her the story she sighed and asked if you'd want to grab tea. You agreed. Meeting her at a local cafe allowed you to air out your feelings; laughs and tears alike. She was kind, and sweet, and supportive without being passive. She loved her brother but knew he had many of his own issues. You'd been friends for over a year and this was the first true heart to heart you shared.
Upon returning home you picked up the Fellowship and tried to read from where Aemond left off. But, it wasn’t the same without him and it only made you cry. Again.
VI.
The following morning, despite your car's newer model, it barely wanted to start for your drive to work. By a stroke of luck you made it there fine. And, made it back home that evening, too. But that was the end of your luck. It needed to be picked up and taken to a shop until a mechanic could see it.
Carless, you had to rely on Uber or public transportation. Yuck.
A few days of stress passed and now you were done for the week. Thank God for weekends. Unfortunately your groceries were extremely low and you would need to make a trip in the morning. You sighed and used it as an excuse to order pizza.
After waking up and a breakfast of (the last, and past its sell-by date) packet oatmeal you got around to make the walk to the nearest grocery store. Knowing you'd be walking home, too, the list was small. Carrying bags up two flights of stairs was hard enough, much less carrying them home a mile!
On the way back it started sprinkling. Great. Just great. You started walking faster with hopes of making quicker time than your leisurely stroll to the store. Then, seemingly out of nowhere, you heard your name called. Was that…? Stopping in your tracks you looked across your shoulder to the side of the road and saw none other than Aemond. You knew his car and voice anywhere. You didn't have to see yourself to know a dozen emotions played across your face.
"Hey," he said gently, his own features a mirror of yours.
"Hi," you said.
"Why are you walking in the rain with groceries?"
Slumping your unintentionally scrunched up shoulders, you sighed. "Stupid car died on me and it's been with the mechanic for almost a week."
He smiled softly. So soft. The outside of his seeing eye crinkled and emotion rushed to your chest. Your gut. "You're way too good to be walking alone. Let me drive you home at least?" 
You didn't resist. How could you? "Alright. Sure. Just dropping me off though, okay?" Guilt panged your chest. Did he feel it too? Could he read it on your face he knew so well?
"Alright," he answered, expression falling just slight. You might as well have stomped on his foot with how it affected you.
I miss you. I love you. I'm sorry. Can we try it again? Can I hold your hand? God I love your hair in a ponytail. You smell good. Did you see the trailer for that new horror movie? I miss you. I love you. I'm sorry. It all turned around your head like a fucking rotisserie chicken. It shouldn't be so hard to say any of those things to him. But it was.
You didn't say anything on the short ride home. Neither did he. His right hand flexed a few times and you wondered if he was having a hard time, too.
"Can you get it all upstairs?" He asked as he pulled into an empty spot and parked, looking across to you with horribly concealed emotion.
"Yes, but…," you trailed off momentarily, trying to read his face. "I still have your book and jacket. Wanna come up and grab them?" You asked hopefully.
He killed the engine faster than you could blink. "Yes! So that's where they've been. You could have mentioned it sooner," he said slightly accusingly, grinning at you with a spark of playfulness.
Leading the way upstairs to your apartment, you unlocked the door and disappeared inside. After placing your items down and grabbing Aemond's, you turned to look at him standing in the doorway. He leaned against it. Waiting. Quiet. He glanced around with a wistfulness that made your throat tight. You watched him watching you and your home until the air became awkward – was it half a second, a few seconds, longer? You weren't sure. 
Slowly you walked over to him. Your gaze flickered up at him as you handed his things back. "Were you ever going to tell me the truth?" You asked. "Did you think I really wouldn't find out? Why did you stick around if I wasn't good enough?"
He blinked. Taken back. "You never even gave me the chance to explain." His jaw feathered before it tightened. His eye hardened.
You grabbed the door, fixing to close it on him. Now that you started talking – unloading pent up questions which kept you tossing and turning at night – you couldn't decide if you wanted to slam it on his face or yell. "I told you how I was cheated on! And you did it anyway! I trusted you, Aemond." Your voice thinned, sounding shrill even to your own ears.
One of his hands braced on the door so you couldn't close it on him. "So this is your revenge then, huh? Punishing both of us? Why don't you trust me?" Hurt and fury simmered in the lovely hue of his eye. A storm. No, a hurricane. "Alys and I have been done for months. Months. Even before you and I met. I'm sorry for what she did but I can’t control what she does. She was playing her wicked games trying to sabotage us– you and me. Don't shut me out. Please." 
He pleaded, every pore and line of his face begging for forgiveness. As each word came off his tongue they clicked into place in your head. He meant it. He was telling the truth. Before you could stop yourself your fists balled into the front of his shirt, pulling him down so your mouth crashed up to his. "You mean it?" You asked through the kiss.
Instantly he leaned down into you, and instantly he held onto your waist pulling you deeper against him. His other hand cradled the side of your face daring to curve along the shape of your skull. "I mean it. Yes I fucking mean it," he answered against the kiss; breath stealing yours away until it left you in a little moan.
You pulled him inside and shut the door, locking it. You moaned as he nipped and bit at your neck. Your heart thumped wildly. He sucked at the sensitive skin, again and again, pulling away just before leaving a mark. "God, Aem,” you whimpered. Goosebumps covered your body. The only thing on your mind was him.
"Fuck, I missed you. I missed you so much." His hands were somehow all over you all at once. His mouth trailed, and dragged, and kissed over any exposed portion of your skin. He happily pulled off layers of your clothing to expose more and more of your soft, warm, saccharine flesh; intoxicating him. After weeks of your separation the last thing he wanted to do was to push too far too fast.  “Can I take this off?” He asked before taking your shirt off.
“Yes,” you replied breathily. “Fuck it. Take all of it off. I missed you too. So much,” you said as you helped pull his clothes off, too. He pushed you against a wall. You kissed. Heavier, and hotter, and hungrier. You pushed him against a wall. 
He gasped as he smirked. “I love when you act all tough when we both know I can have you squirming under me in minutes,” he growled, pupil swelling. The dimples at the very corners of his mouth betrayed his amusement, however, as he once again pushed you against the wall. You were both only in your underwear, now, and his lean body on yours had you aching. “My tough girl… how quickly do you think it’ll last when my fingers are in you?”
“Why don’t we find out?” You asked defiantly, knowing damn well it wouldn’t last long at all. By now you were both down the hallway and your bedroom was only a couple feet away. You needed him. Now. And judging by how fucking hard he was he needed you too.
The next moment went by in a blur and before you could catch yourself you were sprawled out on your back atop your bed. Aemond made quick work of moving you both inside, and made quicker work of pulling your panties down. He groaned as your thighs immediately spilled open for him. He dragged two fingers up your slit and circled your clit with your arousal. “Shit–,” he hissed. “Never make me wait so long to have this pussy again. Do you understand me? Never,” he said as he worked your already swollen clit. He played with it just how he knew you liked it and your cunt’s tiny wet sounds sent his cock throbbing. “Answer me.”
Tension built in the low muscles of your belly. Your legs began to tighten already – one of the tell-tale signs of your approaching climax. How the hell could he push you there so quickly? “N-never! Ahh-h never again!” You replied, voice light, and sweet, and tantalizing as any sin Aemond ever knew. “Please, Aemond, I want to cum…!”
He shoved those same two fingers into you. “Good girl,” he said as he curled those fingers. “This pussy is mine. All fucking mine. Give it to me,” he said huskily as he worked them in and out of you. It was sloppy and wet. Borderline obscene. Each time he slammed his hand against you he was mindful to press the heel of his palm against your clit and your mound, knowing how the extra pressure sent your pretty toes curling.
You cried out his name as your eyes clenched shut. The tension in your belly snapped and a wave of glorious bliss washed over you. Sweat sheened between your breasts and along your lip. You arched, quivered, shuddering in the aftermath of his intensity. 
Aemond’s mouth crashed to yours and you threaded your fingers through the roots of his hair. It was still in a ponytail and you had no mind to take it out, you just had to pull him deeper into the kiss. He tasted the salt of your sweat and groaned. “Relax your pussy, baby, you’re clenching me really hard. It feels amazing but I don’t wanna hurt you pulling out,” he said tenderly, nuzzling his nose into the crook of your neck.
“Sorry,” you giggled. “Just feels too good.” You tried to steady your breath and relax as he laid beside you, continuing to kiss your neck and shoulders. When your spongy walls finally eased around him you were sad to feel him withdraw. Stress melted away from your subconscious and you wanted to thank him for the pleasure. You wondered if your eyes said it while he looked at you.
Leaning up, he discarded the final piece of his clothing and sighed in relief as his cock sprang free. He got between your thighs and looked down at you hungerily. “Look at you all doe eyed already. See? I knew you couldn’t stay tough for long,” he said, smug, as he lined up with your drenched cunt. He held one of your legs up against him, and you pressed the other against his side. 
When you left for the store this morning you had no idea your afternoon would go in this direction.
He pushed into you. Inch by inch he sunk into you and soon he was as deep as he could be. A moan escaped both of you, and a throatier one left him when his free hand tugged at your bra. It was one that clipped in the front. He popped it open and rocked into you as soon as your tits spilled free. "You're so sexy like this."
With your body already sensitive from your first orgasm, and now with Aemond building a rhythm between your thighs, you weren't going to last long. "You feel so good," you purred, eyelids heavy. "Fuck I missed you."
Another sound left his chest and when you wrapped your legs around his slim waist you swore you felt goosebumps pebble all along his skin. Or, maybe those were your goosebumps on your legs. Whatever the case, Aemond leaned forward and kissed you again. "I missed you too," he rumbled. "Gonna let me fill this pretty pussy with my cum again?"
You two made good use of your birth control and you weren't about to deny him – or yourself – the pleasure of being thoroughly fucked and stuffed. "Y-yeah," you stammered, smiling.
Aemond mumbled something incoherent into your neck, and if your brain wasn't foggy from his perfect fucking cock you might have caught what he said. 
He leaned up and supported himself on his forearms, pressing his forehead to yours. "You're my girl. You're my fucking girl. You're my fucking girl," he repeated again and again until the pace of his thrusts grew sloppy. Somehow the sloppiness of it, the neediness and urgency of his voice, sent emotion swelling in all of you.
Heat collected and grew out from your spine, webbing throughout your entire body. You clung to him desperately. You rolled your hips up into him and shamelessly grinded your clit against his pelvis as he drove in and out of you. It was all too much. You crumbled beneath him and let orgasm take control of you. The depths of your body squeezed and convulsed around him, holding him tight and soaking the fullness of his length with your slick. He never stopped or paused his thrusts. 
His own peak followed. Once he was as deep as he could be he released everything he had into you. He stayed there, both of you panting through little moans, until he no longer twitched between your stretched walls. Slowly, he pulled out, and slowly, his seed dribbled out of you. Grinning, he rolled onto his back and scooped you against him.
"Let's stay here like this all day," you mumbled happily, fingertips trailing up and down his abdomen and chest.
"You'll get no argument from me," he said.
Quiet minutes passed and the sound of his heart nearly put you into a trance. "I'm sorry for how I acted," you finally admitted.
All the while he'd been petting and trailing his fingers through your hair. He didn't stop as he answered, "and I'm sorry for not trying harder." He kissed your forehead and held you tighter.
"Let's try it again. For real this time. With the titles and commitment and everything."
"Are you asking or telling me to be your boyfriend?"
You smirked. "I'm suggesting."
Returning your smirk, he pulled you atop him so you could straddle him. "You're all mine," he said with a dark eye. "My perfect girl." 
Leaning down, you kissed and nipped his bottom lip. "Are you already hard again, Aemond Targaryen?"
A chuckle rumbled somewhere in his chest as his touch dented into your hips to hold you at just the right angle. With a roll of his hips he pushed himself up inside you again. "Whose cock is this?"
You gasped, eyes darkening with another round of lust. "Mine."
"That's right. Yours. Not anyone else's. It's fucking yours."
You rode him until your tits were covered in fresh hickies and you were filled with another load of him.
Yours. His. The second chance you both needed.
-
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urfavstargirl1 · 2 years
Text
rainy daze - an eddie munson one shot
eddie munson x fem!reader
Summary: Eddie takes you back to his trailer on a rainy fall day to cuddle, watch movies, and makeout have fun
ao3 link
Cw: inexperienced!reader with strict parents, fluff, kissing, like ooey gooey fluff, teasing, rainy day hangs with bf!Eddie, meeting Wayne for the first time, nudity
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You and Eddie had made plans to hang out after school today. You thought about going to the movies or hanging out at StarCourt, that is until the day finally arrived and by last period it still hadn’t stopped raining. 
It was a cool autumn day and the rainfall was welcomed, but all it made you want to do was cuddle up on the couch to a movie and a box of pizza. But as long as you were with Eddie, you didn’t really care what you did.
You and Eddie had recently started dating. The circles you ran in overlapped and after having seen him at enough social functions, you got to talking and started getting closer till one day, it became just the two of you. 
You had gone out on several dates and you were sure to become boyfriend and girlfriend soon, but he still hadn’t kissed you, yet. He definitely tried, but you were so nervous because of your lack of experience that anytime he tried to get close enough, you dodged his advances or made some excuse to avoid him. 
You were worried he would start to think you weren’t interested in him in that way, which couldn’t be more wrong, but it was too embarrassing to admit the truth. For the time being, he was being respectful enough of your space, but the anticipation of things escalating was eating at you. You tried not to let the thoughts consume you too much. Today would be about spending time with Eddie and not putting any pressure on yourself to do anything you’re not ready for. 
You and Eddie had passed notes between classes and agreed that he would meet you up at your locker after school and head over to his trailer to hang out. When your last class of the day let out, you eagerly skipped over to your locker. It was Friday, so you switched out some items you wouldn’t need for the weekend with items you did.
After being in the zone, deciding between books, a pair of arms slinks their way around your waist and a certain someone’s chin finds its place along your shoulder. 
“Hey sweetheart,” Eddie’s voice cooes in your ear.
You jump slightly, not having heard him approach. You turn your head slightly and see his beautiful brown eyes lovingly gaze into yours. You press a chaste kiss to his cheek. “Hi Eddie.”
“You ready to go?”
“Yeah, just need to get some things from my locker,” you say as you pack up the remaining items into your backpack. 
Eddie squeezes you tighter, making you giggle. He presses a kiss to your temple, with an audible, “mwah”,  before unraveling his arms. 
You close the locker door and zip up your backpack. Before you can even sling it over your shoulder, Eddie swipes it from you and slings it over his.
You scoff, “Eddie, I can carry my own backpack.”
“Yeah, I know. Wouldn’t want those precious little arms of yours getting tired though,” Eddie explains as he wiggles his fingers along your arms, making you laugh from the ticklish sensation.
“C’mon,” Eddie leads and the two of you start walking down the hall, walking across the rest of Hawkins High to get to the student parking lot.
“How was your day sweetheart?” Eddie asks as he wraps an arm around your waist. You reciprocate the gesture and lean into his touch.
“It was good. The heater wasn’t working in half of my classes so it was kind of cold. But, in my English class I got that essay I was really stressed about back and I ended up getting a B+ on it!”
“Hey look at you, my smart girl. I told you you’d do great on it.” Eddie cheers as he looks down at you.
“Thanks Eddie,” you blush, “How was your day?”
“It was alright. I was practically army crawling my way through a test in Ms.O’Donnell’s class.”
“Oh, no! That bad?”
“Yeah, it’s whatever though. And then some of the guys from Hellfire club wanted to hang out tonight but I told them I couldn’t. Already made plans with my girl.”
“Your girl,” you smirk at him teasingly.
Suddenly, a large clap of thunder roars outside, slightly rattling the lights hanging overhead.
“That can’t be good,” you say worriedly. There aren’t any windows in the halls, so you have no idea how bad the weather is outside.
“It’s ok darling, you’re safe with me,” Eddie nuzzles his cheek against the top of your head.
You continue walking with Eddie and as you reach the main doors you see a heavy rain pouring outside. You look at Eddie with concern. A flash of lighting splays across the dark clouds. The rain comes down harder and faster, making it hard to see past a few yards.
You consider waiting out the storm. It’s been raining all day, but not like this. Maybe the intense part will pass soon. You and Eddie decide to wait around a bit to test the theory. You lean against the wall, Eddie caging you in with his arms. You talk about little things to pass the time, twirling your finger in his hair or tracing your fingers along his arms.
At a certain point, a few of the Hellfire boys run into you and say hi to Eddie. They tease him for ditching them for you, but Eddie gives it to them right back and you smile at the boyish camaraderie. 
After twenty or thirty minutes have passed, the rain barely slows down. It was still coming down hard, but you could at least see further into the horizon. Eddie’s stomach begins to rumble and you look up at him. You reach forward and rub your hand along the fabric covering the taut skin.
“Are you hungry?”
Eddie nods and exhales through his nose, “Yeah, little bit.”
You look out the window. “Should we just chance it and get out of here? I don’t think the rain is gonna slow down anytime soon.”
“Yeah, I think you’re right.”
“Will you be okay to drive in the rain like this?”
“Yeah, I’ll be alright,” Eddie smiles as you brush your fingers through his bangs. “I’m parked all the way at the edge of the lot though. Up for a little adventure?”
“Always,” you wink.
Eddie grabs your hand and leads you to the door, “Ready to make a run for it?”
You nod and the two of you run out the door and across the parking lot. You dodge a few other students waiting under their umbrellas or cars slowly milling about the parking lot. You bolt across the lot, splashing in the newly formed puddles.
You shriek as you feel your Converse submerge completely in one particularly deep puddle. As you keep running, you feel the rain dampen your sweater and jeans. The cold water pelting against your skin. Eddie holds your hand tightly as you two run in the pouring rain. 
By the time you make it inside the van, both of your clothes are drenched. Your hair drips with water along the seats.
“Eddie,” You whine as you laugh at the sight of his hair clinging to his pale skin. He runs a finger through his hair and it flops back down. Little droplets of water hang off his nose and eyelashes. You lean over and press a kiss on his cheek, hand cupping it afterward. He smiles down at you. 
“We’re soaking wet,” You say as you feel a shiver run through your skin, “And it’s cold.” 
Eddie removes your hand and thumb rubbing over his cheek and presses his lips to the back of your hand. Eddie starts the car and maneuvers the buttons on the dash to turn on the heater.
“Don’t worry baby, I’ll get us somewhere warm and dry,” he says as he looks in the rearview mirror. 
He expertly pulls out of the parking lot and carefully makes his way to the main road. As they travel further away from the school, the rain dulls to an incessant pitter patter along the car windows. 
Black Sabbath plays along the van sound system. The slower songs paired with the gloomy skies outside and the white noise of the raindrops along the glass lull you to a light sleep. When Eddie notices, he looks over at you and smiles in awe.
When you arrive at the trailer, the rain is still pouring, but the skies aren’t as dark or tinged with strikes of lighting. 
Eddie nudges you awake and you flutter your eyes open.
“We’re here sweetheart,” he says and you adjust to your new surroundings. You stretch out your arms and unbuckle your seatbelt. 
You both rush outside and Eddie opens the door for you. You step through carefully, not wanting to drag in any water or mud.
“Hey Uncle Wayne,” Eddie calls out from behind you. You look up and see an older man with gray hair and a gray mustache sitting on the couch in front of you. “I brought someone over.”
“You two get caught in the rain?” Wayne asks as he lifts himself up from the couch.
You’ve been over to the trailer before but Wayne was usually out at work. Your eyes widen at the realization that you’re going to be meeting Eddie’s uncle for the first time, in a state like this no less.
“Yeah we did. Y/N this is my Uncle Wayne. Uncle Wayne this is Y/N,” Eddie announces as he shuts the door and takes off his shoes.
Wayne stands in front of you, “So this is the famous Y/N I've been hearing so much about.”
Your eyes widen and you look over at Eddie who’s shaking off his jacket.
“It’s nice to meet you Mr. Munson,” you greet with a smile as you reach out to shake his hand. 
“Please, Mr. Munson was my father, call me Wayne,” Wayne smiles.
Out of respect, you know you probably will not be calling him Wayne but you nod as if you will.
“I apologize for showing up unannounced. The rain kind of put a damper on our plans.”
“No worries dear, make yourself at home.”
“Thank you sir.” You smile at him.
“I did some grocery shopping earlier so the two of you are more than welcome to anything in the kitchen,” Wayne looks from you to Eddie before making his way back to the couch.
Eddie nods and you thank Wayne again. You look at Eddie pointedly and whisper, “Eddie, say thanks to your uncle.”
“What? It’s fine. I don’t need to–”
“Yes you do. It’s the polite thing to do.”
Eddie exhales, “Thanks Uncle Wayne.”
Wayne chuckles and smiles at the two of you, “No problem son. I head out for work later so make yourselves at home.”
“C’mon,” Eddie grumbles as you remove your shoes.
Eddie leads you over to his room and starts rummaging through his drawers. 
He gives you a messy pile of clothes, “Here, you can change into these.”
You look up into his eyes and briefly scan the room. “Um, I’m gonna go to the bathroom”
Eddie slightly cocks his head to the side and frowns, “Okay”
You make your way into the small bathroom. You turn the fluorescent light on and close the door behind you. You lock it and proceed to look at yourself in the murky mirror. Your makeup miraculously hasn’t been ruined, but your hair is wet like you just got out of the shower. 
You slowly peel off your soaking wet sweater and wring it out in the sink. You search around for a towel and find an extra one under the sink. You dab at your cold wet skin and shiver from the exposure to the air. Your bra is slightly damp, but dry enough to keep on. 
You place the faded black tee shirt with a gray skull and skeletons that says black sabbath underneath on. The worn cotton feels warm and dry on your smooth skin. You bring the collar to your nose and smile as you breathe in the scent.
Just like Eddie.
You peel off your socks and jeans. The chafing of the wet raw denim against your skin leaves it smooth and cold. You pat down your legs with the towel and unfold the other garment he gave you. The black and white checkered bottoms appear to be what you can only assume are boxer shorts. 
The thought of wearing them brings a nervous flush to your face. Even though they’re presumably clean, these are the sort of thing that Eddie probably wears as underwear which feels incredibly intimate to wear now, even over your own underwear. 
You take a deep breath in and put them on anyway, not having much of a choice in terms of dry clothing. You look at yourself in the mirror once more. If you would’ve known a month ago that you would be standing in Eddie Munson’s bathroom, wearing his clothing, you might have laughed at the thought, but now, here you are, nervously giddy about it all. 
You move over and drape your wet clothing flat along the bathtub. You gather the towel and use it to wring out and dry off the rest of your hair. When you’re finally satisfied with your appearance, you walk out of the bathroom and slowly pad your way over to Eddie’s room. 
“Eddie,” You softly call out, “I’m done with the bath…room.”
You stop short in the doorway as you see Eddie’s bareback. He’s fixing his hair in the mirror across from the doorway while wearing nothing but flannel pajama pants. 
You’re frozen in place as you see the muscles contract with every movement of his arms. Eddie spots you in the reflection and smiles, gaze lingering at the exposed skin of your legs. You cross one arm across your stomach to grab onto the other arm.
He turns around and walks over to you. Your gaze travels to his smooth chest and soft stomach and all the tattoos that adorn his milky skin in between. 
“Hey sweetheart, are the clothes okay?” He asks as he brings you in for a hug. Your cheek pressed against the surprisingly warm and dry skin of his chest. God does he feel good.
You nod and hum as you nuzzle your cheek against his chest. “Mhm.”
Eddie chuckles and you can feel it vibrate in his body. You pull away slightly and smile up at him.
“You can keep the shirt, you know.”
“Oh, really?”
“Yeah, you’re my girl, you deserve to have my favorite sabbath shirt.”
“Oh,” you whisper with wide eyes, realizing the implications of his words. “Thanks Eddie.”
“You feeling better sweetheart?”
“Mhm,” You nod as Eddie walks past you toward the door way.
“By the way, I used one of the towels from under the sink,” You say, thinking Eddie was going to the bathroom.
“That’s okay,” he replies and shuts the door to his room. 
You gulp. A shiver runs down your spine, but it’s not from the cold. In fact, your skin is ablaze and without looking in the mirror, is presumably red from the way it feels.
“Your uncle let’s you bring girls over? And allows you to be alone with them in your room? With the door closed?” You ask as Eddie opens the doors to his closet and searches through it.
“Uh, yeah, I guess. When you put it like that.”
You don't want to state the obvious, but dear god is it astounding to you that something like this is happening. That something like this is possible for other people because there is no way in hell anything like this could transpire under your parent’s roof.
A loud clap of thunder fills the air and you jump slightly from the noise. Eddie looks over at you and you press your lips together to force a smile. 
He walks over to you and places his hands on you shoulders. The sight of his damp hair and uncovered skin paired with his proximity is intoxicating. You feel like you can hardly breathe or might pass out. You try to focus instead on his big puppy dog brown eyes.
“You okay?”
You nod. Eddie’s eyes move to the bed next to you. “C’mon.”
He lets go and walks over to the side of the bed. He climbs onto it and you can see the lines of his muscles flexing as he does so. He sits against the bedframe and the skin of his stomach settles into adorable lines.
Your feet are glued to the ground as you observe Eddie. He seems so comfortable. How could anyone be comfortable in the presence of someone of the opposite sex? How could anyone be so comfortable in such an intimate setting?
“C’mere,” Eddie says as he pats the space next to him.
Eddie wants you to be on the bed… with him?
You slowly make your way over, because you do want to be on the bed with him too, but it’s so nerve wracking. You walk to the other side of the bed and stare at it blankly. 
“C’mon,” Eddie coaxes as he peels back the comforter and runs his hand along the sheets.
You gulps and climb onto the bed. You sit down, with your back against the headboard, at a respectable distance from him. You avoid his gaze and close your eyes, taking a deep breath in. You try to calm yourself down and pray that Eddie can’t hear how loud and fast your heart is racing.
“Why are you so far away?” Eddie pouts, outstretching his arms, opening and closing his grabby hands to scoop you up and bring you closer to him. “C’mere.”
You open your eyes and look at him nervously. Your legs drape over his lap and he runs his fingers along your shins.
Eddie just his bottom lip out, “Am I that scary you want to be so far away?”
“No I just—“
“I promise I won’t bite,” Eddie says and leans forward lips inches away from yours, “unless you want me to.”
You gasp and look at his shit eating grin with wide eyes. 
Your lashes flutter rapidly and heat spreads through your chest. You shake your head and run your hand over your face. He’s so close you can smell him. That mixture of musk emanating from his bare skin, cigarette smoke from the nearby ashtray, and mint on his breath is altogether intoxicating.
“I just want to be close to you, is that okay?”
You peek at him between your fingers. Eddie gingerly brushes his fingers along your own and slowly peels them away. He holds them in his own between your laps. 
“Are you okay?”
You look down at your lap. Your brows furrowed in concentration. How do you tell someone that their presence makes you nervous? How do you reconcile the fact that you want to touch someone so badly but feel some unknown force won’t let you.
“Yeah,” You reply.
“You sure?”
“Yeah,” you say in a high pitch, “Um just nervous I guess.”
“Nervous? Why's that?”
You look up at him and cocks a brow. You flicker your eyes up and down his torso. You wave your hand and look around the room, “I mean look at us.”
Eddie raises a brow, “What about it?”
“I know this might be normal for you but this is not normal for me.”
“I know, but you’re doing so well.” Eddys ducks his head down slightly and peers up at her. She looks into his precious pleading brown eyes.
“Stop looking at me like that,” You wave a hand in front of his face.
“Like what?” He smugly grins.
“You know exactly what I’m talking about! You’re doing it right now!”
“I really don’t Y/N”
You huffs, “You know the look Eddie. The soft dazzling eyes. The pouty expressive lips.”
Eddie smirks and you scowl.
“You know why I do it?” Eddie leans closer
You jerk your head back slightly and look at him in confusion.
“I do it because I know how much you like it.”
You scoff, “What? Who says I like any of it? You must be out of your mind Munson.”
You press your pointer finger to his forehead to push it away, but Eddie grabs your hand by the wrist and turns it so your palm faces you. He brings your hand to your chest right above your heart.
“Oh yeah? Then what else could be making your heart beat like that?”
You’re frozen in Eddie’s touch. How could he possibly know?
“What else could bring such an adorable pink flush to those sweet little cheeks,” he says as he cups your face. 
You smile at the touch, flustered by his observation but touched by his care.
You look up at him and he’s looking down at you with adoration. 
“What’s going on princess,” he whispers as he tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear.
“Tell me what’s going on in that pretty little head of yours.” He asks as his hand drops down to your waist. He rubs circles with his thumb over the fabric of your new shirt.
You furrow your brows in concentration, figuring out the right thing to say. 
“I…I like being here with you. And being like this,” You gesture towards your intertwined ligaments, “It’s just really new for me though. It can be a lot to handle sometimes.”
“That’s okay. Whatever you’re comfortable with, we can do that. Just say the word and I’ll do anything you ask.”
You gaze into his eyes and see a deep sincerity. 
“That means if you want me close,” He leans so far forward that your foreheads and noses touch but both your eyes are open so his look like they merge into one and the sight makes you giggle, “Then I can be close.”
He pulls away and leans dramatically backward. In a silly voice he says, “And if you want me far I can be far away.”
You lean over and grab him by the shoulders, pulling him back to you. You smile as you look into his eyes and whisper, “Close… I want you close.”
He shifts his torso to face you, “Yeah? How close?”
He presses his weight onto one hand and uses his upper body strength to climb on top of you. You shift your body down the mattress so you lie down with your head resting on the pillow.
His body hovers above you, arms fully outstretched and locked as if he were about to do a pushup. “This close?”
“Closer,” you giggle.
He leans forward a few inches. “This close?”
“Closer,” you whisper.
And suddenly, like a switch flipped on, you need Eddie. You need every inch of his skin to be touching every inch of your skin. You need the weight of his body on yours. You need your fingers to comb through the waves of that luscious head of hair. You need… Eddie’s lips on yours. And you need it right now.
“Like this?” Eddie asks, this time, close enough that his lips brush yours with every word he speaks. 
He’s far enough away that you can still look at him and lock eyes with him. 
“Closer,” you whisper before fluttering your eyelids close and letting Eddie close the distance between you. He leans down and presses the weight of his body against yours. He brushes a gentle kiss to your lips. The pressure is light letting you relish in the pillow softness of his lips. 
He pulls away and goes back in for another kiss, this time with more pressure. Your hands crawl up to the sides of his head, fingers combing through his hair. 
“More,” you whisper against his lips. 
“Hm?” he pulls back and looks at you for confirmation. 
Your fingers move down to the base of his throat. “I want more. I’m… I’m ready for more Eddie.”
Hunger takes over those big brown eyes you love, till it’s nothing but pupils blown out with lust. 
“Ask and you shall receive princess,” Eddie whispers with a cocky grin before leaning down again.
He presses his lips against yours and he begins to move his lips. Instinctively, you move your lips against his. You let your lips explore his till their movement settles in on a perfect rhythm. 
You bring your chest up to meet his and return your fingers to their rightful place between tufts of his hair. You pull lightly at the scalp, eliciting a groan from Eddie which vibrates its way into your own mouth. The sensation makes you let out a small gasp. 
Eddie chuckles at the sound, admiring the way you’re enjoying yourself. He uses one hand to feel against your skin. He places his hand along your waist, squeezing it as he brings it closer to his own. You moan into the kiss and Eddie smiles.
“You like that?” Eddie asks between kisses.
“Mhm,” is the best response you’re capable of.
Once you’re at a comfortable pace, Eddie kicks things up a notch and starts swiping his tongue along your bottom lip. You gasp as the unexpected sensation, and Eddie uses the moment to gain entrance to your mouth. You imitate his movements and move your lips and tongue to explore his. 
“God you taste so good,” You whine along his lips. Eddie smirks and deepens the kiss. Your lips become a game of touch and go, heat emanating from your skin. His touch is needy and fervent and yours is hungry and demanding. 
But then Eddie begins to slow down the pace and you’re slightly confused. The confusion continues when Eddie pulls away. You whimper at the loss of contact till you feel it replaced by the touch of his lips along the skin of your cheek, then your jaw, and finally along your neck.
Eddie places sloppy kisses along your neck. His lips go down in an open mouthed kiss along your throat. He presses more kisses in various spots till a certain one elicits a particularly loud gasp from your throat. 
You look at Eddie, chest heaving at your breathlessness. He smiles determinedly before returning back to that same place and putting another open-mouthed kiss along it. A moan threatens to bubble up in your throat, but you push it down. 
“Wanna hear you,” Eddie mumbles along your skin before he begins nipping at the sensitive spot. He licks a stripe and begins sucking at the spot. 
You faintly gasp, picking up on what he’s doing.
“Eddie,” you breathlessly call out. He hums along your skin in acknowledgment. 
“Are you giving me a hickey?”
He looks up at you, eyes glossy and in a daze, “Yeah, if that’s okay?”
“It feels good, but what if someone sees it?”
Eddie presses a light kiss to the spot on your neck that hasn’t been touched enough for a bruise to form yet. 
“That’s kinda the point baby. Want everyone to know who you belong to.” Eddie leans forward and presses a kiss to your lips. 
“No, I mean like, what if my parents see. I can’t exactly hide it when it's all the way up here,” you point to the area on your neck. 
“Guess I’ll just have to choose some more prime real estate,” he teases. 
He kisses you and you two make out for a little while longer before Eddie asks if he can take off your shirt. When you let him, you feel like something shifts. Like he’s not just seeing a new side of you, but you're seeing a new side of him too and even a new side of yourself.
The feeling of his skin on yours is like nothing you’ve ever felt before. It feels so perfect to be touching him in this way. And while you’ve never gotten a hickey before, you feel somewhat proud and excited at having many to wake up to on your chest tomorrow morning. You’ll just need to make sure to wear a high collared top at home. 
You spent the rest of the afternoon and evening making out with Eddie. At a certain point, the rain slows down and you don’t even register that Wayne has gone till you go out to the living room and call to order a pizza. 
You and Eddie hang out on the couch and watch a scary movie as the sun sets. You lay down on him, with a blanket draped over your bodies. You kiss him at any and all random moments. You’re thrilled at the fact that you can now kiss Eddie Munson at any moment you desire which now feels like every waking second.  
After the pizza arrives and you’ve downed the majority of the box, saving a few slices for Wayne, you go back to his room to mess around even more. Despite being nervous before, you were glad you took the leap of faith and went to that next level with Eddie.
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hrryshoney · 4 months
Text
you’re asking me my symptoms, doctor
gynecologist!matty healy x reader
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A/N: hii here’s beloved gyno!au. title is reference to Escapism by Raye lol. i’ll put warnings but def don’t read if this is gonna make u uncomfy. anyways this really came to me in a prophetic vision (slut hour daydreams) so i hope u enjoy and it lives up to expectations? and Shouts to everyone who i bounced ideas w and talked abt this Man w! ty ily mwah mwah
warnings: smut 18+, fingering, inappropriate actions in a doctors office, a bit of corruption maybe hmm idk, degradation, praise, taboo topics/power imbalance (doctor/patient), use of Y/N, dom and sub dynamics, problematic age gap maybe (reader is 22/23, matty is 29/30), dirty talk, etc..
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You were sitting nervously on the exam table, leg bouncing up and down. Doctor’s offices always unnerved you, to say the least. The unnatural fluorescent lights with their buzzing, the cold chill, and sterile smell.
Today, though, you had to book your gynecologist appointment. Now, you’ve been to one gyno before, a woman whose practice was nice and small before you moved cities. Going into your third year of University, you wanted a change in scenery. Now, your gyno would be a man.
A kind woman with dark hair had just come into your room after knocking twice, giving you a hospital gown and a warm smile. Telling you to undress to your underwear and bra. That you should, “Sit tight! The doctor will be in soon.”
So, here you were. On the examination bed, awaiting your doctor eagerly. When you heard a similar knock on the door, but an imperceptibly firmer one, your head shot up. “Come in,” you cleared your throat and called out.
When the handle turned and your aforementioned Doctor walked in, you felt deceived. Deceived in the best way, though, because your Doctor was hot.
He was wearing a white coat, one with a silver tag that read MATTY, his medical badges hanging from the plate. With his glasses and the lightest dusting of gray through his black, curly hair. He couldn’t have been younger than his late 20s, if older than his early 30s. And as he reached out to grab the clipboard off the counter, you were able to see the smallest bit of black ink on his wrist.
He looked down at his documents, squinting slightly. He then set it back on the counter, walking about the room and getting some hand sanitizer from the dispenser. Your eyes are drawn to his hands immediately. When he clears his throat, you come to.
“Good afternoon, love. Y/N, correct? I see it says here you’ve only been to the gynecologist once before, and it was a female doctor,” you nod along to his words, watching him take a seat and hold eye contact with you. “Just wanted to let you know, you shouldn’t be worried. Just typical stuff today, alright?” You nod again, feeling smaller now. Even when he’s sat on his stool, he feels bigger than you.
“Gonna need your words, Y/N.” You can’t tell if he’s joking, even if you see the smirk on his face. Shifting in your seat, your gown ruffling below you, you manage a, “Yes, Doctor.” Through your dry mouth.
“Ah, almost forgot to introduce myself properly.” He laughs, but you swore you saw his eyes darken for a swift second. “I’m Doctor Healy, but you can call me Matty if you feel so inclined.” He grinned, and you felt like his words had a double meaning past the surface.
“You’re here for a routine checkup, I take it?” Moving over to the sink, pumping soap on his hands and running the water. “Lay back for me.” He instructed you as he washed, back turned. You listened without second thought, body going stiff.
You heard the tap turn off, Matty was drying his hands with paper towel now. He walked over to the table, standing above you and looking down. “If you don’t mind, can I ask you some questions before we begin?”
You began to nod, but remembered your reaction from earlier. Giving him another “Yes, Doctor.” he smiled easily. “Great… Now, are you sexually active?”
If you thought you were tense before, then you were like a board now. “Um, no.” You let your eyes flutter shut as you felt your skin heating, feeling terribly bare.
“Right, have you been? In the past?” was this a normal question to ask? Of course, they’d want to know of your bodily health. But of your… sexual activity as well? For you, though, there was nothing to report. Seeing as you were a virgin, which meant no sexual experiences other than yourself.
“Um, sorry, what are these questions for?” You couldn’t stop yourself from nervously laughing, your deflection of an answer hanging in the examination room.
Matty’s eyes dragged along your frame, going from your lips and then back to your eyes. You almost missed the beginning of his sentence when he spoke up. “All protocol, of course. It’s slightly awkward, but I’m obligated to ask. So?”
“So, no. I.. have not been in the past, or like, ever.” And you wanted to melt into the floor. Surely you would have to switch doctors after this again. Too embarrassing of a feat to face.
Another look and pause that goes on for much too long. Your stomach was starting to hurt. Well, maybe not hurt, but you needed to fix it and quick. When Matty claps and rubs his hands together, it snaps you out of it. “Interesting. Well, then, let’s begin.”
You noted that his pupils were huge behind the glasses, and his black slacks hugged his crotch very well. Did they look like that when he came in? You shifted again, trying to rub your thighs for some friction.
“Can I touch you?” His accented voice was deep and gravelly now. Leaving not much to the imagination of how this phrase might sound in a different situation coming from his mouth. His mouth, pink lips that he couldn’t stop licking, and slight stubble on his chin.
“Yes, Doctor Healy.” Your voice sounded submissive enough, and you almost yelped when his hand came down to grab your gown covered thigh. Roughly drawing circles with his thumbs into the spot. “Good girl. You’re tense.”
You shivered, eyes closing and opening again. The silence in the room felt so loud, and your doctor’s appointment was feeling a bit too erotic for what it was at this point. “I- I don’t know why I am.” Lie.
“Need you to relax for me, sweetheart.” His cold hands rub up and down your thighs. He’s making eye contact with you, causing you to cast your eyes to the ceiling. “Wanna put your legs in the stirrups?”
“Would that help, Doctor Healy?” You hear the sharp inhale of breath, followed by a cough. Trying not to lift your hips off the examination table from his constant skin to skin contact.
“It would, thank you.” He moves to grab your legs, setting them on the edge of the platform. His grip feels rougher than acceptable, fingertips leaving indents on your thighs. He reaches under your gown, looking at you for your nod and slipping your panties off. “May I start?”
“Yes, Doctor. Thank you.” And when you feel his fingers run down your slit, you don’t think it’s protocol. You were already embarrassingly wet from the interaction. As his hands move and brush your clit, you can’t hold back the moan. When you open your eyes, you’re met with Matty peering at you over his glasses, an amused smirk barely peeking through his expression.
“Oh, that’s no good, sweetheart.” He clicks his tongue, faux disapprovingly. His thumb comes back to press on your clit. “You’re so wet. What’s that from, huh?” He took his middle and ring finger, circling around your hole.
“It’s- You! You’re doing it, it’s your fault.” You cry out in pleasure and frustration. He was so condescending, but it felt so good. You know you needed to be more conscious of your volume, still being in a doctor’s office.
“My fault?” He almost gasped in surprise, “Oh, no. I don’t think so. I’m just trying to do my job, make sure everything’s okay down here.” Maneuvering his hand, he gave you two quick but firm taps on your clit with his middle and index finger. “Can you remove your gown for me?”
“Is this protocol, Doctor Healy?” You asked, half genuinely curious to see his answer. Moving to lift your bum, untying the gown from behind your back. Your legs were slightly shaking, and you saw his hand go to cover the smile that graced his mouth. You moved both your shoulders out of the arm holes, discarding the gown to the side. Leaving you in just your simple black bra, that had simple lace trimming.
“‘Course, making sure you’re in shape, and all.” His eyes dragged down your frame, stopping at your breasts. He was taking in your figure now, so you had the time to do the same. Your eyes immediately pulled to the now prominent bulge in his pants, and his fingers that seemed to twitch in anticipation.
“Do I appear to be in shape, then? Good for you?” Unbeknownst to you, what you had just said lit even more of a flame inside of Matty. You were asking him if you were good for him? He could show you what a good little slut he could make you.
He lets his hands rest between the apex of your thighs again, “Gonna spread you open a bit, okay? Think this’ll loosen you up for me.” Matty’s long fingers make their way to your cunt, running them up and down. He slides them down to your hole, collecting the wetness there and spreading it up to your clit.
His other hand came up to unclip your bra from behind your back. He did this expertly with one hand, leaving it to fall so he could grab at your breast. Palming at it for a while before pinching your nipple. You let out a whimper, and he gave you a soft slap on the side of your chest. He grabbed it roughly again, evening it out and applying more pressure to your clit as he did.
Your hand came to cover your mouth, not wanting to let your moans out. A soft, “Doctor,” fell from your lips, causing him to slip one finger inside of you. You couldn’t hold back, then. “Please, yes!”
Matty is running the tip his finger lightly along the inside of you, and it’s not enough. You begin to whine, but he cuts it off quickly. “Gotta relax or I won’t be able to run my tests. You don’t want that, do you?” His smirk is enough to make you want to slap it off him. Though, your whole body goes slack when he pushes his whole finger inside of you.
You’re moaning freely now, seeming to have forgotten that you’re still in a professional establishment. You were relentless, the pleasure he was giving you was too much in the best way. “Doctor- Matty. Please, need it.”
Matt’s pupils dilated, if it was possible for them to get larger. “Say my name again for me.” He groaned out, rocking his hips into the side of the table to relieve some tension. “Matty. Matty! Need you, please.” You obliged easily, drunken off the feeling. Matty pressed a second finger into your pussy.
“Poor thing. Never had anyone in this little hole before, huh? Perfect little cunt is so tight for me, were you saving yourself?” You think your reactions have gotten to his head, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. Your head was nodding in response to his words, eyes rolling back to your head.
You could feel pressure building in your stomach, the sound of his voice was getting to you. “Mhm. Doctor, think I’m gonna cum. Please, can I?” His hand sped up after hearing your words, thumb pressing on your clit. You could feel yourself dripping down your thighs, on to the protective cover of the exam table.
Your hips began to lift off the surface again, before Matty’s unoccupied hand came to press down on your abdomen again. “Feels that good, darling? Can’t even stay still for me.” You opened your eyes to look at him, gaze falling to how his hand lifted off of you and went to palm himself. “Come on, be my good little slut and cum for me.”
Ultimately, that was what did you in. You gasped loud enough for the whole office to hear, eyes clamping shut. You saw white behind your eyelids and your hips lifted freely off the table this time. Matty’s fingers coming out of you, rubbing your clit through your orgasm. You heard Matty moan in the back, making out a “fuck me, that’s good. You’re beautiful,” coming from his mouth.
As you came down from it, you opened your eyes to see him licking both of his fingers. “Taste sweet, gonna have to get my mouth on you next time.” He said nonchalantly, still looking down at your pussy. You tried to take your hands and put them in front of it, feeling shy all the sudden.
“Little late for that after I made you cum.” He giggled, going to get a towel from the cabinet above the sink. “Lemme clean you up.” You flustered but agreed in the end. When he came back with the towel, he leaned down to kiss you. You reciprocated easily, jumping when the towel came in contact with your skin.
“Thank you for.. that. For the appointment, Doctor.” You giggled, his head snapping up and eyes narrowing. You raised your hands in faux defence, the smile staying on your face. He smiled with you.
“Came so nicely for me, think I should be the one saying thanks.” He gave you another smirk, getting your panties from the side when they had been discarded. He tapped your thigh, signaling for you to put your legs through. Doing the same with your bra, he then helped you off the examination table.
“Seriously, you were really good. You know, for my first time.”
“Would barely call that a first time, I’ll give you that another time though.” He winked, turning around to look for your other clothes. Your jaw dropped, but you recollected yourself before he turned back to see.
“Right well. Thank you..” You said awkwardly, looking down at your feet. Where were you supposed to go from here? You just got fingered by your gynecologist in his public doctor’s office. You would have to reflect on this when you got home.
“Not an issue, really.” Matty sidestepped you to get to one of the cabinets behind you, slapping your ass as he did. Tease. He was being much too normal about this.
“I mean, what kind of doctor would I be if I left you unsatisfied with your appointment?”
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thisismeracing · 11 months
Text
Part of your world | LH44
SOCIAL MEDIA AU
Pairing: lewis hamilton x actress!reader (she/her)
Warnings: curse words, Twitter environment, it’s not proofread, etc, etc. Minors DNI!
Summary: What happens when Lewis goes to the theater with his nephews and realizes he now has a new favorite Disney movie. The princess? Ynl Yln and she’s definitely fairytale-worthy outside the screens as well.
a/n: none of the pictures used are mine, they are all from Pinterest and other apps. everything else is made up by me and I do not give permission for it to be published on a different platform. I would appreciate it if those things could be taken into consideration 💛
my masterlist | taglist
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liked by lewishamilton, disney, and others
yourusername I can't believe this press tour coming to an end :( A huge thank you to everyone involved. It was great working with you guys, from filming to singing and interviewing.
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royaltyyln omg, I still don't know which dress was my favorite, but this white one is def between the top 3
lewishamilton woah! 😍
⤷ hammertime8 shooting his shot
disney 😍🧜🏾‍♀️💙
user01 I just watched the movie and Istg I cried the whole time, my whole childhood on screen. Yn did a great job
mermaidyn I have an eight years old sister and she's so excited to watch the movie, we cried during the trailer. I can't stress how much it means to us to have a black princess on screen, I am glad my sister is growing up with these examples, and I'm happy I'm still around to watch all these events unfold. Really proud 🤧❤️
user90 Everything on this live-action was on point! From the soundtrack to the cast, absolutely perfect
sainzspain I am so ready to see Yn and Lewis interacting 😌🤌🏾
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liked by pierregasly, lewishamilton, and others
yourusername camera roll reveal 🫶🏾
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summertimeyn soft launching, I see
⤷ ynbrasil she thinks she's lick, everyone knows its lewis lol
russelular bro, every time she posts I am reminded of the fact that she is stunning, what should one do to look this pretty?
⤷ user3 for me, only being born again lmao 😭🤣
driverslicensef1 lewis lurking on the likes
fortyfourfone Pierre Gasly liked it 🧐
roscoesfans THAT'S ROSCOE AND THAT'S LEWIS, NO DENYING
mickshoes @.disney please, a movie where Yn is the princess and Lewis Hamilton the prince, y'all owning us a live-action from the princess and the frog btw, just saying 👀
flawlessyn Yn is my religion 😭💖💖
lewishamilton
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lewishamilton we’re all about winning…and making lovely memories along the way 💚
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yourusername cute
⤷ lewishamilton 😌😝❤️
eliteleclerc I am so happy for them
rainytracks can you imagine being born as yn yln and dating lewis hamilton???????
ynwinter God, I've seen what you've done for others 🙏🏾
estebanocon Congrats, guys!
⤷ yourusername thank you, estie bestie! 🥰
lewyn They look so happy, when will it be my turn?
hitsdifferent not yn all cautious not to spill it was lewis, and lewis saying "fuck soft launch, here's my princess" lol
arielyln wish I could beeee part of this worldddd 😭
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taglist: @sachaa-ff @mickslover @formulakay3 @mishaandthebrits @iloveyou3000morgan @crimeshowjunkie
💖 Don't forget to like, reblog and/or leave a comment letting me know if you liked it *mwah* your interaction means a lot not only because it motivates me, but because it spreads my work and gives me more visibility (especially when you reblog 🥰🤍)
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lemonlover1110 · 1 year
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Hey!! So I wanted to ask if we could get a sukuna x reader sometime? Could be in his original form (four arms) or in his own human form (not yujis body jus like sukuna as a human yk nthn to do with the jjk story plot) that’s if you decide on doing it! All good if u decide no but I would love to see one shots of him in your writing. Much love, your biggest fan❤️❤️❤️❤️
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Pairing: Sukuna x f!Reader
Summary: Trueform!Sukuna takes care of his sick lover
Warnings: Fluff, Sick Reader, Caring Sukuna, Alluding to Pregnancy
*Sort of a prequel to little monster. Also yes, he’s OOC, if he wasn’t he would’ve eaten her
*Thank you so much for reading mwah mwah
Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi
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The day you met Sukuna was the scariest day of your life. Running away into the woods where you encountered the great monster. He had different plans that night, and they didn’t end up in you breathing like you are right now. He doesn’t know what happened. He just knows that now he’s wrapped around your finger, in a way he’s never been before. He’s never cared about anyone else like this. He seeks to destroy and kill, not love.
When he decided to not kill you, he was set on making you a servant, and again, he doesn’t know what happened. Because here he is, putting a cold towel on your forehead, making sure that your fever is going away. He has so many other curses that can take care of you, but he wants to do it himself. He’s so fucking weak for a human being, it’s truly pathetic.
“Go back to sleep.” He orders when he sees you opening your eyes. His voice isn’t as gentle as you’d like him to be, but knowing how ruthless Sukuna can be, the fact that he didn’t kill you for being sick is a miracle. But then again, he cares too much about you.
“Water…” You lift your head, and he reaches over to grab the water that he’s kept nearby, bringing it up to your lips. By the way he’s treating you, anyone would think that you’re nearly dying. You’re not on the brink of death, but you did faint while preparing dinner for the both of you. And you have a fever as well. Of course he’s worried.
“You haven’t been taking care of yourself.” He comments as you drink the water. When you’re fulfilled, your head falls back to the pillow. One of his hands goes to your cheek and he caresses it which is ever so rare in this situation. He’s only sweet like this when you’re having sex and you’re taking too much. “C’mon, I know I’m going to outlive you, but you can’t leave me so soon.”
His lips go down and meet yours. Something he wouldn’t do if you weren’t sick. He hates how much he cares about you. “Go back to sleep. Don’t worry about anything else.”
“Sukuna, I might be…” You begin but you end up biting your tongue. But you don’t end up saying anything because you don’t know what his reaction will be. You’ll lead him to believe that you aren’t just doing your best, maybe because of exhaustion or a simple cold.
“Don’t worry about anything else. Just get some rest. Tomorrow will be a busy day.” He tells you. Not too long ago he was fine on his own, and now the mere thought of being without you… scares him. It’s moments like this where he regrets not eating you on the spot. When did he allow himself to be so pathetic? 
It’s just that when he remembers you so scared and so teary eyed when you met, he feels a toll on his heart. He had never seen beauty like that. And then you ended up coming to his home that had never been so bright before. Usually a monster that looms in the dark, Sukuna found himself appreciating this brightness.
And while he loves you, he won’t tell you that. Even while you’re so sick. He’s never told you he’s loved you, even after the many times you told him you love him. Except in this moment, when your eyes are so heavy that you can barely hold them open. You won’t remember any of this tomorrow.
He caresses your cheek again, telling you, “I love you.”
He grabs your hand and squeezes it lightly, “You’ll wake up just fine tomorrow.”
And he was right. Better in a sense that you didn’t have a fever and weren’t so tired. But you were definitely sick because you woke up puking your guts out. You both soon found out that it wasn’t because you were sick– Or at least your condition wouldn’t be considered an illness.
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mingtinysworld · 1 month
Note
Hi there!
I saw your requests are open and I thought, maybe just give it a try 🙈 I've read "addicted" by you, and even though I don't really enjoy reading smut, I do love your writing style.
Sooo, would you be up to write something fluff/angst with Mingi or Wooyoung, and him fighting over something stupid with his girlfriend (reader) and she leaving the dorm/kq building/wherever they fought? Maybe she even turns off the phone or smith to be alone for a bit, but in the end they talk about it and everything is all fluff again? 🥺🙈
If you're not up for writing something like this, don't hesitate to let me know though, no need to force yourself to write it, okay? ☺️
Lovely greetings, Kat ☺️
Hi Kat!!
Thank you for this request, I love it a lot hehe. I can totally imagine Mingi in this situation and I’m a sucker for angst to fluff ugh. I hope you like this! It’s honestly hard for me to just do fluff, but I hope I did it justice and it’s not cringy haha. Thank you for the love and hope you have an awesome day mwah - J
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Time for me
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Pairing: song mingi x gn!reader
Genre: fluff, angst
Summary: you and your boyfriend Mingi come to a misunderstanding and end up hurting each other. He tries to make up with you, trying to prove his never ending love.
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You sway to the rhythm of the music, heart pounding from the loud boom of the bass. You’re fairly sober, only having taken two shots of vodka so far, still feeling so bright. So many bodies surround you that you have a hard time finding your friends.
Only one hour ago, you decided that you needed a night out. You called your closest friends, Seonghwa and Yunho, and made plans immediately. You knew the two even before your boyfriend Mingi. He gets along with them quite well, but you’d classify them as more of your best friends.
After a couple more hours, the two boys round you up and you decide to call it a night. They very kindly drop you off at your shared apartment with Mingi, and say their good nights. You turn back to the door and use your key to open up, slightly stumbling from the alcohol in your system.
As you enter, you catch sight of Mingi sitting on the loveseat by the window. His leg is propped up on his knee and his arms are crossed. You would be lying if you said he didn’t look intimidating. You set down your purse and phone on the counter and proceed to take your heels off.
“Hi baby, what’s up?” You say casually.
He scoffs as the side of his mouth goes up bitterly. “Not much, my girlfriend just decided to go out without letting me know, and I’ve been sitting here waiting, for a text perhaps. But what do I get? A fucking update from Seonghwa on his story.”
Your face goes pale from his harsh tone. You honestly were so out of it you didn’t even think of texting Mingi. Figuring you were safe enough with your two friends, you completely forgot about it. Guilt fills you and you look at him apologetically.
“I’m so sorry Min, I totally forgot to text you. I really just needed a night out and I was safe, I promise. You know how great Seonghwa and Yunho are.”
He stands up and is now towering over you, stormy eyes looking at you intently. “You always do this y/n, always leaving me for those two. I’m your boyfriend, so why are you spending more time with them?”
His words surprise you. “Is that what this is about? You’re jealous that I’m hanging out with my friends? Mingi, you know damn well that I’m allowed to do that, I don’t understand why you’re being so difficult.” At your words his eyebrows furrow and you have to resist the urge to smooth it down.
“I’m not fucking jealous,” he hisses out. “I would just love it if my girlfriend kept me informed and didn’t act like a total slut all the time.” Immediately he regrets his words. He registers the immense hurt in your eyes and tries to reach out for you. You take in a shuddering breath and step back. Your eyes fill with tears and you speak with a trembling lip.
“I can’t do this, I’m sorry.” You choke out.
You storm out before Mingi can get a word out. Almost instantly your phone comes to life, flashing Mingi’s picture on the screen. You can’t believe he has the nerve to call you right now.
Torn between sad and angry, you’re left with only one option; to go to your best friends.
You show up with puffy cheeks and eyes, harshly wiping away any tears that escape. Yunho opens the door and is immediately filled with concern. He pulls you into his embrace and holds you for what feels like an eternity.
Once you calm down, you’re able to tell him all that happened. Both him and Seonghwa are filled with anger at the way Mingi acted towards you. After some reflection, you realize your wrong doing as well. You should’ve texted him, letting him know you would be out. You also should’ve put in more effort to spend time with him. But that does not excuse him and his harmful words.
You look down at your black screen, having turned it off long ago. You couldn’t handle his insistent calls and frantic texts. You spend the night at their shared apartment, not having the energy to go back to Mingi at the moment.
In the morning, you wake up with a tired ache in your body. You head to the kitchen, wanting to get some food in you. You see the boys sitting at the counter, looking at a piece of paper.
“What’s that?” You ask.
They look up with a somber expression. “It’s a note from Mingi, he must’ve left it early morning.” You take it from Yunho’s hands and read it over.
Y/n, I’m so so sorry. I had absolutely no right to call you that. And I’m so sorry that I acted so childishly. I know you love me, and would never do anything to show otherwise. Please come home so we can talk about this. I promise this will never happen again. I love you, a lot. Come home baby - Mingi
Your eyes tear up at the note, and you decide to go back home. You give the boys a grateful hug, and head out. As you near your door, your heart keeps pounding loudly. You swallow nervously and knock, feeling awkward in using your key. The door opens, revealing a disheveled Mingi.
His face drops into relief and he engulfs you with his arms. “Oh baby, I’m so sorry. You didn’t deserve that.” He whispers into your hair. You ball up the end of his shirt into your fists, holding on so tight.
“I’m sorry too Min. I didn’t realize I was spending such little time with you. I want to fix that, and recommit. You deserve better.” You say with a sniffle.
He smiles at you fondly, and runs a loving hand through your hair. “You deserve everything my love.” He then kisses you with a gentle hand on your waist. He leaves featherlight touches across your bare arms, leaving goosebumps behind. You decide to stay in his warm embrace, reveling in the fact that Mingi is yours and you are his.
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i-drop-level-one-loot · 6 months
Note
You watch slasher movies? I haven't done so in years (much to my disappointment), got any recommendations, classics, popular, underrated, anything really?
I knew I hadn't watched them in a long time, but it wasn't till I had to try and write something based on classic slashers, that I realized how long its been since I consumed that kind of content.
My only plan so far is that I need to watch The Texas Chainsaw Massacre
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Alright, Pandora, it depends on your tastes, and what you look for in a "slasher" ❤️
As you may remember, I fucking love the OG the Texas Chainsaw Massacre, and when I got pretty bad last month emotionally I watched it on repeat for two weeks straight. However, if you go in for a regular slasher film you will be disappointed. The first movie is incredible, focusing on amazing shots and atmosphere for nearly the entire first half. It's less of a slasher as we would come to know the genre, and more of an artistic film centered around the horrors of humanity. The series is a wonderful mess of multiple timelines and little continuity, but the sequels better fit the slasher archetype. The best sequel (imo) is the one directly after the first, and it's a black comedy slasher, focusing more on the kills.
Now, slashers ❤️
If you're a nerd and want to experience the slasher history, then before Halloween (which still holds up) there was Black Christmas, and before that the Town that Dreaded Sundown.
The Town that Dreaded Sundown is based off a true serial killer, and unlike TCM which is loosely inspired by Ed Gein, a lot of the kills (except the trombone scene) are based on actual murders, with his mask accurate to the only real world survivor's testimony of her assault. It's very slow pace, and with how desensitized we are as a society you might find it boring, but if you ever get a phonecall from Ghostface, then you have to know the Town that Dreaded Sundown. Fun fact, his mask also inspired Jason's mask from Friday the 13th part 2!
Black Christmas is awesome! I'd recommend it more than Sundown, because of pacing, characters, acting, and overall atmosphere. I love my second wave feminism horror (Stepford Wives (mwah)), and it did a lot better with it's feminist themes than the loose remake from 2019 that tried to be intentionally feminist (ignore the 2006 remake entirely, so bad, so lame, so gross). It did the first person perspective of the killer nearly four years before Halloween's iconic opening. It introduced the idea of the final girl, but she wouldn't become a sexually repressed younger woman until Halloween solidified the trope. It has some great kills that still hold up, and Billy is iconic. I really feel the only reason why he isn't more well known in non-horror spaces is because he doesn't have a mask or outfit that can be replicated and sold in Spirit.
After that we have our most well known slashers, and they're popular for good reason ❤️
A Nightmare on Elm St, Friday the 13th, and Halloween spawned sequels that spiraled off into varying degrees of madness, but still have fun moments.
After the success of Friday the 13th (and the realization of the franchise-ability of slashers) there were a lot of slashers that tried to capture the money magic of the first few success stories. Not all of them were great, but a few notable slashers imo are My Bloody Valentine and the Dentist.
Although Candyman is often lumped in with slashers, like the Texas Chainsaw Massacre, the first movie is more than a traditional slasher. I recommend the first one as a beautiful love story about the horrors of American racism. It's score is still incredible, the behind the scenes are so interesting, and Tony Todd is absolutely beautiful. Such an amazing actor. (Not so) Fun fact: Tony Todd said in the behind the scenes that there originally was a romantic scene where Helen proclaimed her love for Candyman, but they were forced to cut it, because "they were okay with a tall, black man covered in bees.. but, mm, when it came to a kiss, or something like that, it was a little bit too risque..." ( :/ )
(Please please please watch Candyman)
Then the best, or worst (depending on your views), thing happened to the genre; Scream.
One of the best slashers there is, it isn't the first self referential, meta horror (see Wes Craven's New Nightmare), but it did change the slasher genre for a very long time. It was a revival for the genre, since it was declining in popularity by the early 90s. However, post Scream horror was very meta. See Chucky's personality changing from the occasional funny quip, to Bride of Chucky levels of silly (still love him tho). Of the terrible horror trying to copy Scream, I'd recommend Urban Legend over I Know What You Did Last Summer. It was a shame, just how silly a lot of scary movies got back then, trying to be as smart and self aware as Scream was.
But my favorite (outside of Scream) meta horror slasher film is Behind the Mask: the Rise of Leslie Vernon ❤️ took meta to a whole new level, mockumentary style, a camera crew follows a wannabe slasher killer explaining how to be a slasher icon.
I've watched too many slashers to remember all of them right now, but if you want really meta black comedies, Tucker and Dale vs Evil isn't a slasher but a loving joke on the genre, and the Final Girls made me laugh and cry like a little bitch.
A lot of slashers since the late 90s have drifted closer to the black comedy sub genre. Killers that kill for the sake of killing are often B-rated blood fests, that can be great for mindless fun but not so great for box office gains, especially in our current horror renaissance. Slashers don't fit in to the current horror culture. Serial killers aren't scary for desensitized audiences, and the mindless gore expectations set by older slasher films have created a pretty specific genre setup and pay off (dumb people who only exist to die get brutally murdered). It either has to be B-rated mindless fun (Laid to Rest 1 and 2 had terrible camera work and directing, making even incredible actors like Lena Headey feel lackluster, but the practical effects are so impressive I'd recommend it just for the blood and guts (and bewbs)), or comedic (the Hatchet series has great cameos, genuine laughs, and more impressive practical effects, but with good cinematography and directing (still bewbs)). Slashers that don't lean in to how ridiculous the concept of slashers are and try to take themselves seriously often end up falling short, either creating boring killers with no personality or trying to force a plot into a generic slasher shaped hole.
This does include most remakes of slasher movies, as a lot of slashers were remade in the early 2000's with less interesting characters to be killed off by the slashers. The remake of Candyman was an exception, because even though it wasn't as good as the original, it did go back to it's non slasher roots, learning from the mistake that was the third Candyman.
TLDR:
Non slashers that are considered slashers because of the slasher sequels/iconic murderers:
the Texas Chainsaw Massacre
Candyman
Child's Play
Best Precursor to the genre:
Black Christmas
Popular Classics:
Halloween
Friday the 13th
a Nightmare on Elm St
Pre 90's Slashers that I recommend:
The Dentist
Sleepaway Camp (it's divided on whether it's problematic or interesting representation)
Alice, Sweet Alice
My Bloody Valentine
Post 90's meta commentary/black comedy:
Scream
Behind the Mask: the Rise of Leslie Vernon
Hatchet
The Final Girls
Tucker and Dale vs Evil
There are obviously a lot more, but these are a few off the top of my head ❤️
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mybiasisexo · 5 months
Text
Entangled - Part 9
Pairing: Chanyeol x f.Reader Chapter Warnings: Alcohol Consumption | Language take a shot whenever you see the f word smh Word Count: 8.3k Author Notes: So...Im sorry 😬? But aye, what's a story without a beach chapter, am I right?? I can't believe how close we are to the finish line. I think we have 3 chapters left ??? give or take. wooow will I actually finish a story for the first time in my life?? (like a real one not just a lil scenario haha). Sorry for the late update, I was gonna post on yeols bday but thought this wasnt a great present lmfaooo As always, dont be shy with letting me know your thoughts on the chapter, a def will need to know how you all feel at the end of this one 😮‍💨. Thank you to everybody still rocking with the story, it means sooo much to me 💕 and give our boy chanyeol some loooove MWAH!!!
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It doesn’t take Seulgi and you long to change and head down to the beach. Being able to see the guys from up in your room, you join them quickly.
They got their hands on a grill somehow, and you find Jongdae already cooking on it, beer in one hand.
“Already looking like a dad, Dae,” Seulgi announces in greeting, taking in his unbuttoned green Hawaiian shirt, oversized sunglasses, and fisherman’s hat. He grins brightly and rewards her with a fresh piece of juicy meat.   
Beside Jongdae and the grill sits a long table covered with food, drinks, and a bluetooth speaker currently playing chill R&B. A little further behind him is a blue canopy to block the blazing sun from your sensitive skin, chairs littered underneath it.
This area of the beach is privately owned, for hotel residents only. Despite how large the hotel is, only a few other families dot the shore, all far enough away that your little party is practically secluded.
You drop your bag onto a chair and dig into it, pulling out a bottle of sunscreen. You rub it into any skin of yours exposed before walking out of the canopy, holding it up for everyone to see. “Who needs some?”
Sehun and Jongin come running towards you, both only wearing swim trunks. You suck your teeth, their backs are probably already screaming at them.
Jongin gets to you first. You turn him around and begin to apply the protective lotion onto his back, where it will be hard for him to reach.
“We missed you last night,” he says.
“I know,” you reply. For some reason, your throat constricts, dragging your voice down to a deep mumble. “I’m sorry for leaving. I just….”
“I understand,” he says, patting one of your hands. Throwing his head back, he tosses you a sweet grin. You return his smile before handing him the bottle so that he can cover the rest of himself.
With Jongin preoccupied, Sehun makes his way over, already trying to get a read on you. He understands the language of your body enough to fill in blanks you don’t even know are empty.
“Good afternoon,” you greet, keeping your voice neutral. 
“He’s in the water,” is his reply.
“Who?” Damn this man. He’s good.
He scoffs. “Please, you’ve been scanning the area non stop since you’ve arrived. Baekhyun had to drag him out as soon as he got here. He was getting pretty worked up about something. I’m assuming it was the fact you weren’t here.”
“Weird,” is your convincing response. You push his arm, leading him to turn around so that you can attempt to save him from skin cancer.
“Weird, indeed.” Despite not being able to see you, his curious gaze can still be felt. “Makes me wonder what happened after you left the reception.”
“Not something I really want to talk about.” You wince, knowing you’ve slipped up and said too much. The simple sentence bares a lot to unpack, and Sehun loves other people’s dirty laundry.
But, in Sehun fashion, he doesn’t push. It’s one thing you love about him. Instead, he faces you and grabs the sunscreen, silently lotioning the rest of his body. When he’s done he reaches over to you, pulling at the black kimono you had meticulously put on over your swimsuit, to return the favor.
“Sehun!”
He yanks the thin fabric and it falls off your shoulders. You both freeze. He only lifts an eyebrow as his eyes rake down the expansion of your exposed skin littered in harsh dark bruises. His gaze lingers for an uncomfortably long time. You want to pull away, but find yourself paralyzed, a mouse caught in the stare of a hungry snake. 
“Stop staring.”
The voice is gruff. A wet hand pulls at your arm, ripping the kimono from Sehun’s frozen hand. You stumble backwards until you hit a chill wetness that makes you hiss as it soaks into your back. Sehun’s eyes are the only thing to move as they shift to the person protectively hovering behind you. His expression is cool, but you catch the way his eyes alight in amusement. Swallowing thickly, you work the courage to see who’s caught his attention….
Chanyeol stops glaring at Sehun long enough to spin you around so that you’re facing each other. With gentle fingers, he fixes your pullover, maneuvering it so that it’s covering your neck, hiding most of the damage. 
He clicks his tongue in dismay. “This won’t do.”
“I have a shirt,” you inform in a small voice. “It doesn’t have a collar though.”
“One second.” Chanyeol walks away, no longer blocking the radiant view of crashing teal waves, powdery sand, and miles of blue sky. White clouds speckle the troposphere, the negative image of your neck and chest. Off to your right, Sehun still stands, a glorious statue made of pale marble.
You can’t bring yourself to acknowledge his presence. 
Chanyeol returns. In his hands is the ugly Hawaiian shirt Jongdae was wearing.
You become aware of the rashguard covering his torso. The collar is high, covering the base of his neck where any hickeys can be hidden, although you can just barely see the start of one peeking out. You curse yourself for not thinking of buying one. 
“May I?” He gently asks. Is that not how he asked to strip you last night? The reminder takes your voice, as does the reserved look in his eyes. He’s testing the water, trying to see where you both stand at the moment. You nod, allowing him access to touch you, lost in his grim expression.
Gently, ever so gently, his fingers brush over your shoulders, sneaking under the thin garment. You battle a shiver as he lifts the back of his hands, knocking the fabric off with his knuckles. You roll back your shoulders, helping him make the cover cascade onto the sand below.
Chanyeol’s bright eyes wander over your flesh. He grunts in satisfaction at the sight of the marks he’s made, pride coloring his features. And you’re transfixed, gulping back saliva flooding your mouth like high tide. Your breathing grows erratic, fingers itching to touch him in return. Apparently that tension hasn’t fully gone away. Looks like you’ll be attracted to him for life.
You want to say something, want to voice an excuse to get your hands on him, but a sharp whistle cuts through the air before you can speak, breaking the spell Chanyeol has you falling under. You blink away your thirst, remembering where you are, of the audience you have.
“Looks like you got into some fun last night!” Jongdae, the culprit of the whistle, points out in a yell. 
You’re now hyper aware of all your friends. Baekhyun, who you’re just now noticing, sits in the shallow part of the water where the waves roughly push him, dressed identically to Chanyeol. He’s looking in your general direction, squinting against the sun to see what all the commotion is about. Seulgi stands beside Jongdae. She’s in the middle of applying sunscreen, one of her legs lifted like a flamingo. She doesn’t have to say anything for you to hear her ‘oh shit’, wobbling as she balances on that one leg. Sehun is still staring right next to you, but the whistle was able to jolt him back from stone. Then there is Jongin, who jogs back to where everyone is congregated to curiously see what is going on.
Being the only one moving, your head spins over to him, seeing how his mouth slacks and his eyes widen in shock.
“What happened?” He asks, concerned.
Embarrassed, you snatch the shirt out of Chanyeol’s grip, rushing to put it on so that everyone will stop staring at you like you just told them you murdered someone.
“Mind your business,” you snap. You regret it instantly when Jongin’s face falls like a kicked puppy. It can’t be helped, you have a tendency to lash out when embarrassed.
“Dae! The meat!””
Gratefully, a hard gust of wind blows in, lifting the aluminum foil with the cooking meat off the grill, falling onto the sand.
That distracts everyone from you. You thank a higher power.
Jongdae stares forlornly at the meat, watching sand coat it like seasoning. 
“What are you doing!” Baekhyun yelps, rushing to his feet. “Pick it up!”
That pulls Jongdae out of whatever trance he was in and he lurches forward, grabbing the hot foil and tossing it onto the end of the table. He hisses and shakes his hands, sticking a reddening thumb into his mouth.
Baekhyun rushes over to the table for quality control and his shoulders slump at the damage.
“This batch is no good.”
“Way to go, Jongdae,” Chanyeol chides. He then peeks over to you, surreptitiously checking your reaction.
“Shut it!” Jongdae snaps back.
Seeing a good opportunity to escape, you go to make your way over to Seulgi. Chanyeol is not having that, and you only get one step in before he’s snatching your wrist, holding you in place in front of him.
“Don’t go,” he begs under his breath.
You refuse to look up at him, knowing that whatever expression he currently wears will kill what little resolve you have. You know you need to discuss what happened the night before, and why he woke up alone this morning, but you hate confrontation and don't want to have this conversation right at this moment. To be honest, you just want to relax for a bit. Is that so wrong?
You remain silent, not really sure what to say to get him off your back for the time being.
“Just talk to me,” he urges. “You were gone when I woke up, and….”
He falls silent, and you can’t resist the temptation any longer. You break and lift your chin, sucking in a breath at what greets you. It’s that same tortured expression from yesterday. Nerves, apprehension, and defeat swim in his opaque orbs, purple his lips. And you know you can no longer prolong with conversation. He’s hurting. You’re hurting him, and it’s not fair to keep tormenting him like this.
“Did I do something wrong?” He asks dejectedly, intently searching you for the answer. 
You open your mouth to answer him. To tell him no, he did nothing wrong, but then Seulgi is calling your name and running up to you. She grabs the arm Chanyeol isn’t holding. “Let’s get in the water. It’s hot.”
She completely ignores Chanyeol as she heads for the shore, dragging you with her.
“I’m sorry,” is all you’re able to get out before you’re pulled completely from his gentle touch. He releases your wrist without a fight, letting you retreat glumly.
“I’m going to have to talk to him eventually,” you tell Seulgi, rolling your eyes. You hit the water and hiss from the shock of the freezing temperature.
“You two don’t get much talking done when you’re together,” she answers, breathless from the cold of the water.
Ignoring–and also maybe even embracing–the pain from the waves chilling your warm skin, you both run until you’re thigh deep and then dive right in, swimming deeper into the abyss. 
You float on your back and try to focus on the paradise you’re in, instead of the devastated look in Chanyeol’s eyes. To no avail.
There’s some crashing noises that pull you upright to see Baekhyun running in to join Seulgi and you.
When he’s close, he jumps onto Seulgi, pulling her under water. Not one to miss an opportunity, you hop onto his back. The three of you break the surface, sputtering for air.
You stay secured around Baekhyun as you all catch your breaths. 
“What the hell,” Seulgi coughs, splashing him in the face. He laughs, but chokes on the sea salt, and you squeal when you’re caught in her attack.
Letting go of Baekhyun, you swim back around so that Seulgi and you are turned towards the shore with him facing you both.
“Is he still sulking?” He asks.
You dare a glance over to where Chanyeol is, refusing to acknowledge how quickly you’re able to seek him out. He’s in the chair you had claimed, watching the water with a sullen pout as he rests his chin in his hand.
“Oh yeah,” Seulgi answers. “The clouds around him are turning gray, he’s in such a mood.”
“He wouldn’t be like that if you’d stop avoiding him, you know?”
“I’m not avoiding him,” you say. “We just spoke.”
Baekhyun snorts. “Yeah and I can tell you’re both on the same page. Nice talk.”
He throws you a sarcastic thumbs up, you stick your tongue out at him.
He grows solemn. “Please, say something to him. The poor man is beating himself up right now.”
You sink further into the water, dipping in until your mouth is submerged, and run a hand over the tiny waves bobbing you. 
Beside you, Seulgi sighs. “I may have ruined their talk.”
Baekhyun throws his head back and groans. “You’re killing me, Smalls.”
“How was I supposed to know?” She asks. “It looked like they were about to ditch us and fuck again. I’m just trying to help her not make another decision she’s going to instantly regret.”
“Whatever happens between them is their business, Seulgi,” Baekhyun says, sounding uncharacteristically reasonable. “You have to let them work through it their way.”
You wave your hand above your head like a needy sim. “I’m right here, you know?”
Seulgi pouts like a chastised child. “You’re right.”
Both Baekhyun and you spin your heads towards her in surprise.
“Did you just say I’m right?” Baekhyun asks. His shock quickly morphs into cockiness, if the grin splitting his face is any indicator.
She’s now the one to groan. “I will not be repeating myself.”
“I’ll cherish the moment for the rest of my life.” Baekhyun turns to you and his smile softens. “Talk to him soon. He’s getting annoying.”
“I will. I promise.” You assure. “Thank you, Hyunnie, for doing this. I know it isn’t easy for you either, being in the middle like this. I appreciate it.”
He shrugs. “You’re both my friends. I want to see you happy. I just hope you can work it out.”
Jongin and Jongdae come barrelling towards your group. As soon as you see your sweet friend, you can’t help but hold your arms out for him.
“Nini!” You cry. He laughs and falls into your embrace, tackling you back into the depths of the sea. When you both emerge, you apologize for yelling at him.
“You’re forgiven,” he says, never taking anything to heart. “But I was surprised. I didn’t expect to see all your bruises. It looks like you got beat up.”
You whine his name. “You’re making it worse.”
“Hey, they do say that weddings are the best place to pick up chicks,” Jongdae says. “Well, I guess dudes for you. Unless….”
He gives you a wicked smirk and you splash him.
“Anyway, good on you for getting some. You deserve it.”
“Thanks, Jongdae,” you say dryly, rolling your eyes. “Also, my bad on the shirt. I forgot I was wearing it before I got in here.”
He takes notice of his button down floating around you and gasps dramatically. “You better wash it before you give it back. It was expensive.”
You look at him skeptically. “This tourist shirt?”
“Do you really think it’s a good idea to have those two cook the meat?” Baekhyun asks, putting your incoming argument with Jongdae to a halt. All five of you turn to the last people still on dry land. The tall boys stand over the grill, Chanyeol with the tongs in his hand. His eyebrows are scrunched as he listens to Sehun adamantly speaking, nodding and answering occasionally. it’s a deep conversation you don’t want any part of.
Jongdae shrugs. “I need a break. It’s hot.”
You all play in the water for some time. Once hunger becomes too great to ignore, you swim back to the beach. Immediately, you crack open a cold beer, nearly moaning when it hits your belly. Now this is what you need. You’ve been sober far too long.
Jongdae wasn’t lying about the heat. Even under the canopy, you can’t escape the sun’s harsh rays. You succumb to the weather and peel off Jongdae’s now dry shirt, not caring anymore if the other’s see your marks, it’s already old news.
Slowly, you all make your way to the table. it’s out in the open and everyone is a bit hesitant to sit out there, but that’s where the food resides. Both Baekhyun and Chanyeol take off their shirts, overwhelmed by the temperature.
“Holy shit, Yeol,” you hear Jongdae say. “What happened to you?”
Everyone glances over to the tall man and your heart sinks at the sight of his exposed back. It’s hard to miss the rows of scratches you carved down his shoulder blades, red and angry.
At the mention of his name, Chanyeol turns around, revealing his neck, shoulders, and chest that look exactly like yours. Actually, his marks are deeper, darker. You were really letting him have it. In your defense, he did encourage you to do your worst, so it is hard for you to find any sympathy to send to the giant.
A loaded silence fills the area as he locks eyes with you. You sigh. That’s enough of an answer for everyone.
Giving up, you chug your beer empty as the extra heat of everyone’s attention bounces back and forth between you both, connecting the purple and blue dots.
“No way….” Jongin’s fingers trace the trail of his eyes. “Did you two…?”
You close your eyes in dismay. You’re going to hear it now.
“Wait a damn minute!” Jongdae’s loud ass voice echoes over the speaker. “You mean to tell me Chanyeol was the one who left those hickeys on you!?”
He gives you an impressed grin. “You naughty girl.”
You simply sink lower into your chair.
“Are you guys together now?” Jongin asks, bouncing on his toes in giddy excitement.
“I mean….” Chanyeol searches you out in hopes you’ll answer that question for him as well.
The attention has you awkwardly laughing, readjusting yourself so that you’re sitting properly again. 
“Please, you guys,” you say, laughter coating every consonant. “It’s nothing.”
Chanyeol’s head tilts at that, eyes fluttering in confusion. “What do you mean ‘nothing’?”
Your heart sinks as you realize you’ve made matters much worse. Chanyeol’s getting worked up now, and the last thing you want is to fight in front of everybody.
“I just mean it’s not a big deal.”
If your first sentence was you putting your foot in your mouth, this one is the whole damn leg.
“Not a big deal?” He repeats skeptically. He turns so that he’s properly looking at you, making sure he’s understanding correctly. “You think us having sex is ‘not a big deal’?”
“Okay,” Jongdae drawls. “Not together then.”
“That’s not what I meant,” you begin to explain, really wishing this conversation wasn’t happening like this. “It was a big deal to me, okay? But they shouldn’t expect more because of it.”
“Like us getting back together?” He continues to question in a monotonous tone. “You’re saying that they shouldn’t get their hopes up about us getting back together just because we had sex.”
“Exactly!” You clap, glad he understands.
“So that wasn’t us getting back together?”
His disappointment is hard to disguise, and it makes you feel bad. Again you’re reminded that if you’d just talked before this wouldn’t be happening. You sigh and prepare yourself to explain where you’re coming from.
“Chanyeol–”
“Meat’s getting cold,” Sehun interrupts, ending the real conversation before it can start. You’re grateful for it, still not mentally prepared to break Chanyeol’s heart any further, although it seems you may be past that point. Chanyeol’s jaw is tense, honestly everything about him is tense as he nods his head like he finally understands something before stomping over to the table, sitting at the end furthest from the canopy. He grabs a beer, cracking it open and guzzling it down rather aggressively. 
Everyone else reluctantly takes Chanyeol’s lead. When Baekhyun passes you, he grimaces, politely letting you know that you messed up. Sehun is the last to walk past. He stops and reaches a hand out for you to grab. You sigh before taking it, allowing him to pull you up.
“The last thing I want right now is a lecture,” you tell him.
“I’m just checking on you,” he assures. “You good?”
You stare at him. ‘Do I look like I’m good’ written all over your face and he grins, gaining the reaction he wanted. It’s gone as quick as it comes, an air of seriousness taking over.
“I thought we talked about this.” He starts. 
You point a finger at him. “Lecture.”
He purses his lips and lets his attention wander to the table. Everyone is trying their best to lighten the mood. You look also and are surprised to see Seulgi attempt to make small talk with Chanyeol, although he doesn’t appear that interested in the conversation.
“Okay, no lecture, but let me say one thing.” You groan. “Don’t leave this island with unfinished business. That’s only going to hurt you both more.”
You’re still taking in the table as he speaks, and Chanyeol must feel it because he’s looking back at you. He holds your stare for a few seconds, then catches himself and breaks the contact. It’s selfish, but you’re comforted by the familiar longing still lingering there.
You nod at Sehun’s words, turning back to him. “Yeah. Got it.”
He doesn’t believe you and his expression says as much.
“Hey! Hurry up and grab a plate!” Jongin orders you both. 
Sehun pats your arm and heads over to the table, you follow a few steps behind. The food is delicious and the alcohol starts flowing. Soon the sun starts its slow descent, and with full bellies, you all relax more. At this moment, you can’t help but to miss Junmyeon. He’s always the one taking pictures, annoying everyone by forcing you all to pose for what feels like hundreds of photos. Sehun, his successor, makes sure to take as many candids and selfies as he can. You find it easy to smile whenever the camera is focused on you, even when Chanyeol is also in the frame.
Speaking of Chanyeol, the beer, good food, and friendship seems to be working in lifting his spirits. His loud voice carries throughout the beach, and you catch his boisterous laugh from time to time. You’re relieved to know that you haven’t completely ruined this trip for him. 
By this point, the sky is a lovely pink and orange, and you’re a bit tipsy. You close your eyes and sway to the beat of whatever song is playing, snapping along. Someone holds your hand, causing your eyes to spring open to see Jongin gently urging you out of your seat. You allow him to drag you into a clear patch of sand near the waves. You start dancing with him, connected hands swinging between you both as you reluctantly laugh. Jongin is your designated dance partner. He’s one of the better dancers of your group, and you’re shy. He got into the habit of getting you out onto the dancefloor to loosen you up in college. Now is no different. You both roll your bodies and sway your hips to the beat, encouraging each other. The longer you dance, the closer you get, until your forehead rests on his collarbone, arms wrap around each other’s waists, and Jongin’s cheek presses atop your head.
“Are you okay?” He softly asks.
His question causes your vision to blur. You stare unseeingly into the now gray sea, waves crashing urgently and tighten your hold around his torso.
“I don’t think so,” you confess. 
“I don’t understand,” he says, sounding both confused and frustrated. “You both love each other, right? Why fight?”
“It’s not that simple, Nini. I wish it was, but….” You shake your head, not really knowing how to finish the sentence.
“Is it because of her?” He presses.
You close your eyes at the reminder of Yerim, another person your actions will hurt, and she’s yet to find out of your betrayal.
“Partially,” you admit.
Jongin rubs your back. “It'll work out. As long as you know what you want.”
You wipe your face and pull back to smile up at him, clipping his chin affectionately.
“Now that we’ve had that talk,” you say. “Let’s dance! We’re on vacation! I need to feel like it!”
He chuckles and spins you around so that your back is pressed against his torso.
“Turn the music up!” He orders. Whoever is in charge of the tunes obliges and you’re pleased when a song you can grind to comes on. You throw your arms up into the air and instantly lose yourself to the music, dancing back on Jongin who matches your moves easily.
Not really paying attention to your surroundings, you fail to notice someone joining your little party, but they make themselves known by gripping your arms, ripping you out of Jongin’s hold.
“What the–”
For the second time today, Chanyeol has pulled you away from someone. His hands are wrapped so tightly around your forearms, you wince from the pain. He doesn’t catch your discomfort, too busy giving Jongin the fiercest stare you’ve ever seen.
“Get the fuck off of her!” He snarls, dragging you even closer to him so that your face is pressed against his naked heaving chest.
You lean back and attempt to stare him down, but all you see is his sharp jaw.
“We’re just dancing,” you explain defensively.
That makes him look down at you, and you nearly gulp from the fury reflecting in his black orbs.
“That’s not how you ‘just dance’ with someone!”
That’s when you notice the way his words slightly blend together, notice how unsteady he is on his feet.
“You’re drunk,” you point out disappointedly. Remembering how good that did you both the last time he was under the influence.
He chuckles darkly at that. “So are you.”
Ugh, you aren’t anywhere near as faded as he currently is. You attempt to free yourself from him, but he’s holding onto you too tightly to break. There is no escape.
“Chanyeol, Bro, I swear that’s all we were doing,” Jongin calmly reassures.
“Don’t call me ‘bro’,” Chanyeol hisses. “You’ve always been like this, Jongin. You were always touching her! Don’t think I never noticed.”
“She’s my friend,” he says slowly, carefully, as if he’s speaking to a child.
“And she was my fiance!” Chanyeol all but roars. “But that never stopped you!”
You glance around. His outburst draws everyone’s attention and they watch the three of you curiously. Baekhyun and Sehun start to get up from their seats, probably intending to de-escalate the situation, but you don’t want to get anybody else involved. This is between Chanyeol and you. What is happening now is the consequence of you stalling the ‘what are we’ conversation you should’ve had the night before.
“Leave him alone, Yeol,” you mutter. “He’s not the one you’re mad at. It’s me.”
He doesn’t even spare you a glance, too focused on the man behind you. “Why won’t he answer me then? I’m right, aren’t I?”
“I promise I–”
Before Jongin can finish defending himself, you cut him off by putting your hands on Chanyeol’s chest, throwing your weight to shove him. In any other circumstance, he wouldn’t have budged, but his inebriation works in your favor, making him stumble a few steps. Unfortunately, he takes you with him, and you fall forward. He lets go of your arms to catch you by the waist, steadying you both.
“You okay?” He asks with worry.
“Yeah,” you huff. You pat his shoulder. “Why don’t we go for a walk?”
There’s a boardwalk a few meters away that looks deserted, that is probably the best place to have this discussion. Not waiting for an answer, you easily break his hold and start walking towards it. Chanyeol says something to Jongin you can’t catch over the sound of the sea, but it sounds smug enough that you sigh deeply in dismay. You’ll apologize to Jongin tomorrow, you promise to yourself.
When you pass the table, you lock eyes with both Baekhyun and Sehun.
“It’s okay,” you assure them, not even sure if you believe it. It’s enough for them, they stand down and nod, trusting you.
The journey is silent. The sun has disappeared completely by the time you’re on the worn wood, enveloping you in an almost foreboding darkness. The crashing of waves are intense beneath you, doing nothing to soothe your nerves. When you reach the end of the walk, you turn around to the man you know was following you the whole time.
He’s on you before you can even speak. His mouth moves roughly against yours, urgent and desperate. His frustration is felt, as is his still present affection. You fall easily into his kiss, giving into him as naturally as you always have. Your hands curl around his neck, pulling him closer. He cups your face, the palms of his hands squishing your cheeks, puckering your lips more for him to devour. He walks you backwards, until your bare back hits the splintered wood of the banister. it digs into your skin, making you whimper, but it’s not enough pain to distract you from the punishing pressure of Chanyeol’s lips.
The groan he lets out in response is tortured, long fingers desperately begin pulling at the band of your swimsuit bottoms, eager to feel all of you again. 
In sync, your mouths fall open, tongues colliding and lewdly twirling together. God. Fuck. You want him. You want him so bad it’s driving you crazy. You’re going to fuck him again. You’re going to fuck him right here on this damn boardwalk, space be damned–
But, that’s exactly the problem, isn’t it?
“Stop,” you gasp between kisses.
He hums before tilting his head to kiss you even deeper. Those wandering hands of his slide down to squeeze your ass. You shutter and press yourself more against him, slipping your arms fully around his neck to drag him lower so that he’s curved over you. A sheen of sweat the only thing between your boiling bodies.
Still, you can’t bring yourself to fall back completely into the make out session. Disappointment floods you. Seulgi is right, the two of you can’t be alone for even a second without falling into this toxic habit.
Now annoyed with how weak you are, you finally muster the strength to shove Chanyeol back, officially breaking the kiss.
With much needed space between you, you feel the fog of lust begin to clear and can think better. Chanyeol doesn’t say anything or make a move to resume what you interrupted. No. He just stands there, watching you with an expression you find hard to read as you both attempt to catch your heaving breaths. 
“What?” He finally asks, voice hoarse and deeper than hell. “You don’t want me anymore, Mel?”
There’s no sorrow, none of the longing or anger he’s shown throughout the day, which is surprising. It’s almost as if he knew this was how the night was going to go. Like he knew you were going to push him away.
“That….” You swallow thickly. “That’s not it.”
“Then what’s the problem?” He asks, taking a step towards you. You try to counter it, but that leads to more wood stabbing you. You’re sure some break the skin. He takes another step and now he’s directly in front of you, a mere breath away. He lowers his head to be more level with yours, giving you a close up view of his wound up fury.
“The problem,” you nearly stutter, overwhelmed by the hostility now coming off of him in waves. He’s never directed his anger towards you–the situation maybe, but never you–it’s intimidating and scary. You lick your dry lips, trying to find your voice, and he watches detachedly. “My problem is the opposite, Chanyeol. I still very much do.”
“That doesn’t seem like a problem to me.”
“Look at us!” You say. “We can’t be alone for five seconds without being all over each other! Last night was not supposed to happen the way it did! We weren’t supposed to sleep together!”
“But we did,” he snarls through clenched teeth. “And that means something, whether you want it to or not!”
“All that it means to me is we need space. This is too much for me, Yeol. We need time apart to figure out what the hell we actually want.”
“What is too much for you?” He asks, sounding exasperated. “The way I feel about you? The way you still feel about me? What is there to figure out? We still want each other, nothing else matters!”
“We still want each other physically!” You clarify. “I can agree with that, but the longer we’re together, the more I think that’s all we want!” 
“Of course not!” He finally yells. You flinch from the volume and that makes him catch himself. He huffs out a breath before repeating in a much gentler tone, “of course not.”  
He grabs one of your hands, thumb caressing your knuckles. “You are way more than that. You always have been. This is more than physical to me.”
Everything inside of you is screaming to believe him, and he himself is asking for that. For you to have faith in this, and to give it a chance. 
“Then why didn’t you say it back?” 
He doesn’t answer. Instead, he stares at the forming tears in your eyes and the slight wobble of your lips in confusion. He searches for the context to your question. It takes a minute, but then his eyes widen in realization and his mouth falls open, a slight ‘oh’ leaving before he’s snapping it back shut. The look he gives you after that is something akin to pity.
And there is your answer. You pull your hand out of his grasp, using it to wipe away the tears that slipped past your waterline. “Whatever. It doesn’t matter.”
He scrambles in alarm from your withdrawal. “Can you please stop saying shit like that?”
“Why?” You snap. Your irritation grows with every second he doesn’t give you the answer you desire. “It doesn’t. I didn’t mean it anyways. It just slipped out, so…yeah.”
You fidget nervously and try to make out the waves crashing against the wood underneath you. You’re so focused on that, you miss the way Chanyeol recoils in shock. You also miss the reigniting flames of his dimming anger.
“So when you told me you loved me, you didn’t mean it. Yet, you’re mad at me for not saying it?”
Him saying it out loud makes you cringe in embarrassment. As if he hasn’t done enough, you sense mockery in his tone. When you meet his eye again, the anger is still there, but it’s mostly frustration you notice.
“I’m not mad that you didn’t say it,” you deny.
“Yes you are!” He lets out a humorless laugh. Yeah, he’s definitely frustrated. “Is that what all this is about? Why you left this morning? Look, I’m sorry! It wasn’t because I didn’t feel the same, I was just…preoccupied.”
“Preoccupied with what?” You ask in disbelief.
He gives you a steady look, eyebrows raised in a way to say, ‘you know what’. It takes a minute for you to decipher what he’s alluding to, but then you remember what happened right after your little confession and groan his name, appalled.
“See?” He’s grinning like a madman now, pulling at your arms in an attempt to catch your attention. “That’s all I ever wanted to hear. And once I did, I couldn’t control myself anymore. You telling me you love me made me cum.”
“Be serious right now,” you say, frowning in disgust.
“Oh, I’m very serious right now,” he says, that gleefully large grin still on his face.
You throw him a skeptical look. “You’re smiling and talking about cum. You think this is a joke.”
That makes his smile slowly disappear. He says your name. “I don’t think this is funny. I’m telling you the truth. You want me to prove it to you? Hm? I’ll say it right now. I lo–”
“I don’t want to hear it now!” You interrupt in a shout. “If you had said it then, things might’ve been different, but you didn’t. I don’t care why you didn’t either. That was all the confirmation I needed. We have no idea what we want from this.”
“Here we go again,” he groans, walking a bit away from you.
You jut your jaw at that. “I’m going to repeat myself until you get it through that thick skull. Whatever happened, happened. It’s done. We’re done.”
Chanyeol’s frustration is back with a vengeance. His fingers run through his dark hair, yanking at the strands as he starts pacing in front of you. “How can you say that when you had your tongue down my throat minutes ago? You let me cum inside you! You told me you loved me! And that’s it? There’s mixed signals and then there’s whatever the fuck you’re doing right now.”
“There you go talking about cum again,” you mutter to yourself. Louder, “I’m being realistic! It’s only been three days. Three! And, what? We’re just supposed to pick up right where we left off? Act like the past few years never happened? That’s not how this works, and I doubt that’s healthy. We need more time.”
“I already told you that I’ll always love you, and I meant that. I know you’re scared, Mel. Hell, I’m scared too. You’re right, things are moving fast, but that’s because we still care for each other. I know you still love me. You wouldn’t have said it if you didn’t. This wouldn’t be us pretending we never broke up. This can be us realizing that we’re better together. That we’re even stronger now that we’ve had time to figure out who we are apart. Isn’t that what you wanted?”
“It was,” you’re quick to emphasize the past tense. “But I’ve changed a lot since the last time you saw me, Yeol, so stop acting like you know me.”
Something you say catches his attention, and he narrows his eyes suspiciously. “You haven’t changed much.” He says your name. “I still know you, probably better than anybody else here. Just like you still know me.” 
He’s stilled from pacing, and it’s a bit ominous after watching him frantically walk for the past couple minutes. He runs a hand over his face tiredly and lets out a heavy sigh. “So, that’s really what this is about.”
You raise an eyebrow questioningly and he laughs, shaking his head.
“I was hoping it wasn’t, but what you just said…. It all makes sense now.” He’s muttering under his breath, talking to himself.
“What are you going on about?” You ask.
“This morning, when I woke up and you weren’t there, I knew. I didn’t want to believe it, that you would do something like that, but I knew what happened the moment I realized you had left me.”
Your body begins to shake, and it isn’t from the cold. Foreboding chills your spine, causing goosebumps to rise, sharpening once he locks eyes with you, the accusations hard to miss.
“You still hate me.”
His hands curl into tight fists at his sides, trembling–as are his shoulders, his voice. He closes his eyes, taking deep calming breaths you doubt help him much. 
“And now you’re telling me you didn’t mean it when you said you loved me. That you changed since the ‘last time I saw you’. Was that your plan all along? To seduce me? Make me think you still gave a shit so that I’d let you fuck me and then leave? Was last night revenge sex?”
“No,” you gasp, genuinely shocked by his conclusion. “I already told you, it was a lapse of judgment–”
“I’m not playing this fucking game with you!” He shouts. His voice breaks, just like his heart currently does. “You don’t get to hurt me again. You can’t play with my feelings everytime I allow myself to be open with you. Maybe you’re right, Mel. Maybe I don’t know you anymore, because I never thought you could do something this fucking cruel.”
“Me? Cruel?” Your anger flares up. “What the fuck about you? You come here, bring some other girl you care nothing for, and then pretend like we never knew each other! Then proceeded to ignore her the whole time to flirt with me any chance you got!”
“We’re not talking about this trip!” Chanyeol dismisses. “I should have never brought her, I know that now, but that’s not what this is about. This is about the time before that, when you gave me back the engagement ring!”
Sehun mentioned the night before the wedding that you have a baseless grudge against Chanyeol, one that twisted the love you have for him, crossing that thin line over to hate. He was positive you made something up, a ‘lie’ he called it, to keep Chanyeol at arm’s length from your heart in order to protect it. The truth is that Sehun grew cocky. He believed so deeply that you couldn’t keep anything from him, that it was impossible to with the way he can so easily read you, that he never suspected when you did. It was only one thing. One thing you decided to keep to yourself, refusing to confide in even Sehun. The reason? To protect the man in front of you, the same way he protected you.
The last thing you want is to bring it up, but technically, Chanyeol is doing it first.
“Gave it back?” You’re in total disbelief. “You took it back the morning after you slept with me and then completely ghosted like I was some one night stand!”
“That’s what you wanted!” 
“When?” You ask, baffled. “When I invited you over? Or was it in the middle of us having sex?”
He runs a hand roughly through his hair. “Okay, but why did you invite me over?”
“Because I–”
He doesn’t let you finish, his own anger from that day getting the best of him. “Because you wanted to give me the ring back!”
His voice has risen, and it silences you completely. 
“Fuck!” He’s saying your name again, but there isn’t an ounce of affection. “You wanted to return the ring. It was the one thing–the only thing that gave me hope. I told you to keep it, because I knew as long as you still had it, there was still a future for us. But then you called me. It hadn’t even been a year since our separation–because that’s what we were, separated not broken up–and the first time I hear from you it’s to tell me you want to give me back your fucking ring!”
Your head is spinning, attempting to comprehend everything he just admitted, filling in blanks you have been trying to figure out for years now. You hate to admit it, but some things are starting to make sense. 
“So, which was it then?” You question rather calmly. “You were still hurt from when I broke things off, so when I reached out you saw your chance to return the favor? Or was it because you thought that’s why I asked you to come over, so you got upset, slept with me, and left as a big fuck you?”
“Neither,” he reveals, evident disgust from your thought process. “Sleeping with you that night just happened. I didn’t do it with the intention to hurt you.”
“Sounds familiar,” you point out. He pinches the bridge of his nose. It feels like you’re going nowhere. Like you’re speaking in circles. “But okay, fine, say I believe that you didn’t do it to hurt me. Why did you leave?”
“Because I didn’t want what happened that night to become our normal,” he admits. “You knew how I felt about you, and I didn’t want you to take advantage of that–of me. Come on, Mel, you’ve always known the power you have over me. If you had told me that night that all you wanted from me was sex, I’d given that to you. Hell, if you told me right now that’s all you want, I’d give it to you. I’d give you anything. You’re my Melody.” He takes a deep shaky breath. “But I knew that if I reduced myself to that just to keep you, it would destroy me. I didn’t want to lose myself like that. And I don’t ever want to hate you. That’s why I ultimately left. Took the ring–like you told me to–and ran before you could change my mind. That was me setting a boundary for myself. I had to let you go before I allowed you to use and break me.”
Your heart sinks at his explanation. “Do you really think I’d treat you like that?”
“Do you really think I’d make love to you and not mean it?” He counters.
Again, you’re back at square one. Blinking at one another, trying to figure out where you stand in each other’s hearts. With the newfound knowledge of Chanyeol’s thoughts on that infamous day, you look internally. To be honest, his words don’t sway you much. The hurt from that day is still painful. You vividly remember the way your heart shattered when he was nowhere to be found. To add salt to the wound, he had blocked you on everything, so that you had no way to contact him afterwards. Yes, you really did believe he was capable of doing that.
“No matter what your intention was that day,” you start. “The result is still the same.”
Once Chanyeol hears this, you watch him build up a wall, closing you off from him for the first time. Until right now, you believed he wasn’t capable of doing that to you. That it couldn’t be helped or that he felt comfortable enough to let his guard down in your presence. But watching all the vulnerability, all the honesty, all the affection he had for you vanish before your eyes, you realize you have been giving yourself too much credit.
“I guess that makes us even now, right?” He asks bitterly. 
You turn away, partially out of guilt, but also because you can’t stomach the haunted shadow dulling him. He’s right, in a sick way. You both ran away, hurting the other despite the reasoning behind it.
“So, that’s it then?” He asks when you fail to say anything.
“Chanyeol….” You turn back to him and instantly are bombarded with regret. You can so easily fix this. If you really want to, you can tell him that you forgive him for that night, that you truly never meant to hurt him and that the night before meant everything to you. You can walk off this boardwalk hand in hand, laughing with giddiness from falling back in love with your soulmate. Rejoining your friends who would be nothing but ecstatic and supportive of you working through your issues and returning to one another. You can do that. It will only take one simple sentence. 
But you don’t forgive him, and you haven’t really resolved anything. Your new relationship would be built on the foundation of ignorance, avoidance, and lust. You didn’t want that, not if it is the cost of having him back at this moment. You both have some healing to do before jumping into this again, and this conversation proved that. You aren’t ready.
“I–yeah. I think it would be for the best if we end things here.”
“Yeah,” he agrees in defeat. He sniffs and scratches the back of his head. “You’re probably right. There’s not much else I can say to make you stay.”
He takes you in one more time. In his reluctance, it’s as if he’s giving you a chance to change your answer, but you both know you won’t. Guess he does still know you well. He clears his throat and without saying goodbye, walks away. 
He’s about to clear the walk when you’re yelling at him to wait.
He does. He faces you and watches with wide eyes as you run hastily over to him. You stop at a safe distance, close enough to see him under the dim moonlight, but far enough away that you can’t feel the distracting heat of his body. 
He observes you warily, probably wondering how you’re going to break his heart this time. It’s that bit of doubt that made you run. There’s one last thing he needs to know, the one thing he needs to take away from this conversation, if nothing else.
“I don’t hate you.”
It’s the last thing he expected, and his reaction reflects that. His eyes grow glossy and he does his best to blink the unshed tears back, while also fighting the frown weighing the corners of his lips, causing them to tremble. Wordlessly, he reaches out to you, cupping the back of your head, and you let him. You allow him to touch you, to bring you close to him, relishing in his heat against the chilling bite of the ocean’s breeze. He pulls you in and presses a tender lingering kiss onto your forehead.
“Thank you,” he whispers against your skin.
And then he’s gone, taking all the warmth with him.
And you watch, as his fire dims and he blends with the gray of your surroundings before disappearing out of sight.
You pray to god that’s not a metaphor.
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