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taeyongdoyoung · 2 days

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good for you

summary: your boyfriend is literally perfect and treats you like a princess but you want him to completely lose control 😇 pairing: mingyu x reader genre: smut, tooth-rotting fluff warnings: established relationship, home intruder roleplay, consensual somnophilia, safeword exists but isn't used, rough sex, no lube, no protection, neck biting, size kink (no one is surprised), titty slapping, sir kink, spanking, praise+degradation, slight dumbification, subspace, pet names, shy dom gyu, crying, mentions of pee (non-sexual context), aftercare!!! word count: 1.7k

You and Mingyu have not been together for long but from what you know so far he’s the sweetest guy you’ve ever dated. He treats you like a princess, brings you flowers or chocolates with or without occasion, drives you around everywhere, gets stuff from the top shelf for you and is basically the kindest soul to ever step on this Earth. You are, of course, beyond grateful for that, and do your best to show him how much you appreciate him every chance you get.

However, a little demon inside your brain kind of wants him to not treat you as if you are made of glass all the time. While the sex is great and Mingyu makes sure that you reach an orgasm, you can’t help but fantasize about him going rough on you. Even when his friends tease (bully) him, he almost never uses his height and strength to his advantage, instead accepting everything with a good-natured smile.

But you would be lying if you said that the idea of him just snapping doesn’t excite you. Nevertheless, you are not sure how to bring this up to him. You don’t want to sound ungrateful or for him to feel insecure about his abilities because he’s perfect the way he is. It’s your filthy brain that needs fixing. Still, you decide that honesty is the key to a healthy relationship and you gather all your courage to approach him about this.

“Hey, Mingyu, can we talk about something?” you ask one evening after you two have finished having dinner.

His eyes are immediately filled with worry. Judging by the tone of your voice, this is something serious. So far, your relationship has been lighthearted and devoid of any problems. Mingyu thinks that it’s going great but apparently he’s been fooling himself.

“What’s wrong?” he wants to know. “You’re not breaking up with me, right?”

“What?! Of course not! Do you want to break up with me?” you panic.

“No, no, please,” Mingyu shakes his head fervently.

“Good, good,” you exhale in relief.

“So, what did you wanna talk about?”

“Um, it’s kinda embarrassing but I don’t want to keep any secrets from you.”

“Secrets?” Mingyu blinks in curiosity.

“Yeah…You know how you’re always super gentle with me, both outside and inside the bedroom?”

“Uh, sure? What about it?”

“Can you consider…not doing that all the time?”

“In what sense?” Mingyu raises his eyebrows in confusion.

“In the sense that…can you fuck me harder without holding yourself back? You’re not gonna break me, I promise.”

“Oh…” he finally realizes what you’re getting at. Because he doesn’t say anything rightaway, you hurry to explain.

“Not that I don’t like how sweet and patient you are with me! It’s more than amazing, I just thought that…maybe it’d be fun to try something new. If it’s not your thing, forget I mentioned it, I’m so-“

“It’s not that it doesn’t sound appealing. But I’m afraid that if I’m not holding myself back, I’ll end up hurting you,” Mingyu confesses, surprising you.

You reach your hand out across the table to hold his comfortingly.

“You won’t. I know how caring you are, Mingyu. Which is why I would trust you with something like this. Okay?”

“Okay,” he nods. “Did you have a particular scenario in mind or do you want me to surprise you?”

“Surprise me.”

Mingyu smirks sinisterly. Oh God. What kind of demon have you unleashed?

🎀🎀🎀

A few days later, you receive a text from Mingyu while you’re walking home.

Mingyu: Busy tonight?

You: All yours

Mingyu: Unlock your door at exactly 10pm and wait for me in your bed. If I’m not there by 10:30, lock it again, alright?

You: Yes, sir 🛐

Mingyu: That’s my good girl.

Fucking hell. Your heart flutters upon reading these words. He’s called you that before but in this context, it thrills you even more than usual.

Mingyu: Safeword is butterfly. Use it if something is too much, if you’re in pain or for any other reason that brings you discomfort, okay?

You: I’m gonna need a safeword?!?!

Mingyu: I hope it doesn’t come to that but just in case. See you in a couple of hours, baby.

You’re too excited for tonight. You take a long shower. You wear your prettiest lingerie and make your room as cozy as possible. Not that it matters. You spray perfume over your neck and wrists. You put on some lipbalm and mascara. You want to look good for him. But the truth is, you had an exhausting week and already feel sleepy. You unlock the door at 10pm, climb into your bed and…

Somehow you fall asleep. You feel disoriented as your consciousness is slowly returning to you. You feel too hot, too weak and too full. Fuck. What’s going on? You don’t dare to open your eyes for fear of ruining the sweeter than sleep reality.

“Dumb baby couldn’t wait for me and fell asleep all by herself?” Mingyu’s deep voice coos in your ear.

In your half-awake state you feel your boyfriend’s cock thrusting deep inside of you, taking you rougher than ever before. Well, you asked for it.

“So cute and helpless, leaving the door unlocked for anyone to enter and use you like a whore,” Mingyu murmurs.

He rubs your clit vigorously while still fucking into you, making you wetter than ever before.

“Nnghh,” you whimper drowsily.

“Shhh, baby, go back to sleep,” Mingyu whispers. “I’ll take care of you. You don’t have to think about anything.”

He squeezes your boobs, leaning down to bite your neck like a hungry wolf. And here, you thought your boyfriend was just a cute puppy.

“S-so big,” you cry out pitifully.

“You can take it, slut,” Mingyu says confidently.

You don’t offer a verbal response but your body speaks for itself. Mingyu is almost splitting you in two but your pussy is swallowing him up greedily.

“H-harder, p-please,” your mouth seems to have a mind of its own because it speaks against any common sense.

Mingyu slaps your tits, a little hesitant at first.

It stings but it’s such a sweet hurt you’re already addicted to it.

“Like this?” he asks, making sure it’s okay.

“M-more,” you beg, forgetting all inhibitions. “Use me.”

He does it a couple of more times, while still fucking you roughly. His dick is so enormous that you’re certain you’ll be sore tomorrow but it will be more than worth it. You lose count of how many times you’ve come around his cock. Sliding out and flipping you on your belly, he takes you from behind, too, spanking your ass and gripping your hair.

“Such a good girl, just for me, right? No one else gets to see you like this, yeah?” Mingyu’s words come out rushed, almost in trance.

“All yours, sir,” you promise.

Mingyu seems satisfied with your answer because he spills his seed inside of you seconds after. You follow his lead and eventually, your knees give out, your mind goes blank and you collapse on the bed.

“Baby?” Mingyu checks up on you worriedly.

You are not capable of responding, brain barely functioning anymore. He moves you gently to see your face. Your eyes are open but unblinking, which scares the shit out of him.

“Come back to me, my sweetheart, please,” Mingyu cries out, hugging you tightly.

A couple of moments later, you still don’t remember your own name but something more important to you leaves your lips:

“Mingyu?” you whisper cautiously.

“Oh, angel,” Mingyu sighs. “I’m right here.”

Then, you suddenly burst into tears. Overwhelmed by how good he made you feel and how much he cares about you, your fully emotions take over.

“What’s wrong, baby? Did I hurt you?” Mingyu positions you so that you are sitting on his knee and rocks you gently back and forth.

“N-no,” you shake your head. “I’m s-so happy.”

“You poor thing,” Mingyu chuckles softly. “Can’t believe you worked so hard to doll yourself up and make the room smell nice. You knew I was gonna ruin your lingerie anyway, didn’t you?”

“I just wanted to look good for you,” you admit with a pout.

“You always do. My best girl,” Mingyu kisses you sweetly and wraps you in his warm embrace, lulling you back to sleep.

🎀🎀🎀

The next morning, you wake up to the feeling of wanting to pee so badly. You manage to climb out of bed but barely make one step and trip on the ground. Uh oh. You got fucked so good you literally can’t walk.

Awakened by the loud thud, Mingyu is by your side in no time.

“What happened?”

“You happened,” you reply truthfully, but you don’t blame him because you brought this upon yourself.

“Oh…” Mingyu understands what you mean. “Did you want to use the toilet?”

“Uh, yeah. Gosh, this is so mortifying.”

You cover your face with your hands.

“I was literally deep inside of you a few hours ago, get over yourself,” Mingyu laughs and lifts you up effortlessly, carrying you to the bathroom.

“Are you gonna stare at me?!” you ask in embarrassment.

“Might as well,” he laughs but gives you some privacy, even though there is no need to be shy after all the things you’ve done together.

After that, he insists on doing everything for you. You tell him you are perfectly capable of brushing your own teeth but nope, Mingyu wants to do that, as well. And honestly? It feels too good to reject.

He even makes breakfast and brings it to bed so you can share it together. As you take the first bite and drink the first sip of coffee for the morning, the feelings come crashing once again. And you start crying even harder than last night.

“Oh, baby, what is it?” Mingyu wants to know, as he brushes your hair behind your ear and wipes your tears.

“N-nothing, you’re just so amazing and kind I feel extremely touched.”

“You do realize this is literally the bare minimum, right?” Mingyu seems shocked. He just made pancakes. It’s not some heroic act, in his humble opinion.

“It’s so rare to find a lovely guy like you, though,” you admit.

“Well, my good girl deserves only the best,” he smiles shyly and kisses your cheek.

You wrap your arms around his neck, grinning wider than ever before.

“Keep talking like that and I’ll want to be good for you forever.”

“I’m counting on it.”

The End

#seventeen #mingyu #svt scenarios #seventeen smut #mingyu smut #seventeen scenarios #mingyu x reader #svt imagines #seventeen imagines #kim mingyu #mingyu imagines #mingyu scenarios #svt hard hours #seventeen hard hours #seventeen x reader #writing

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lecl3rcw · 2 days

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KEEPING UP WITH THE LECLERCS | leclerc brothers x reader

_______________________

part 1

“Y/N, it’s the middle of the fucking night in Monaco? You better have a good ass reason too wake me up” Arthur groaned at his twin as he groggily.

“You won’t believe it.” She says

“What?”

“THE BENGALS INVITED ME TO THEIR GAME” she says, a sudden burst of excitement ran through her

“Who are the bengals again?” He sighs

“….”

“Oh wait, it’s that one dude you like, what was his name again Joe Burrow?”

“YEAH AND GET THIS, I can bring up to 5 people, so you’re coming and so are Charles, Alex, Lorenzo and Maman” she says excitedly.

“Who says I’m going?” He says, earning himself a scowl.

“You don’t want to come?” She says, “well I mean not really”

“Ofcourse you don’t! I always show up for your events and you never show up for mine” she says, maliciousness lacing her tone.

“Y/N please, this isn’t your event, you’re not walking the runway or attending a premiere” he says, his tone now matching hers.

“Well even if I was, not like you’d show up anyways” she mutters.

“What are you yapping about? You’re being so dramatic, I mean not everything revolves around you okay? Some of us have actual problems” he says giving the final blow.

The girl takes a deep breath to collect her self. All her life she had spent living in the shadows of her siblings. She just wanted someone to show up for her, she remembers her first runway show, she had 4 seats reserved for her family yet when she walked out, all 4 of those chairs were empty, why? Because Charles had a last minute deals with a brand. They called and apologized and Ofcourse she put a brave face on, but only the walls of her room heard the way she cried herself to sleep that night.

“You know what? I’m going to let that slide, I don’t know what’s going on with you but I hope you make peace with yourself, and you don’t have to come, I’ll just ask Charles and Enzo. But anyways goodnight” she says

“Y/N-” Arthur tries to interrupt but she hangs up before he can say anything.

Had she overreacted? She felt a sudden rush of guilt overcome her. She couldn’t help but overthink. Her train of thoughts were interrupted by a FaceTime call from her brother's girlfriend.

"Hey babygirl" Alexandra says, "Hey bae, what's up?" she says propping her phone up on the table.

“Just checking in with you and your man situation” Alex says, her and Charles were in the Maldives, “oh it’s good, I got invited to the bengals game so” she replies, “WAIT THATS SO GOOD” Alex says excitedly, Y/N smiles.

“Do you and Charles want to come with me?” She asks hopeful, “well Charles will be preparing for his race but I can definitely come!! When is it?” She asks, “next week!”

“Oh yeah I can definitely make it!” She says,

“Ok we can fly together!! But I I’ll see you next week love ya!” She says hanging up.

The week came even before she could blink.

“So Y/N you excited?” Alexandra says, and Y/N nods.

When they arrive at the stadium, Y/N is immediately greeted by the bengals team.

“Thankyou so much for being our guest, I’m the head coach Zac Taylor” a man says reaching his hand to which she smiles and accepts.

“This is my friend Alexandra!” She says as Alex also shakes his hand, from the corner of her eye, Y/N could feel a certain pair of blue eyes stare at her, and her cheek flushed more.

She waves to the rest of the team, however the man with blue eyes seems to approach her first. “Hey, my name is Joe, I’m the quarterback” he says extending his hand, “I’m going to be honest, I have no idea what that it” Y/N chuckles shaking his hand which caused him to smile.

“Well if you umm give me your number maybe some time could teach you about football” he says very smoothly, which causes her to get flustered.

“Oh yeah, d-definitely! Here” she says giving him her number as he smiles, “you have such a beautiful smile” Joe says bringing up her hand to his lips before letting it go, “I’ll talk to you later” he says waving before going to get ready for his game. She just stands there in shock wondering what happened.

Alexandra squeals, “I saw that!! Y/N he so likes you” she says hugging the girl.

Y/N laughs and shakes her head, but the whole time she couldn’t take her eyes of him.

joeyb_9 started following you

y/n.leclerc

y/n.leclerc modeling for Dior has always been a dream of mine, so thankful to take this huge step into my career with the most amazing photographers, stylists, and makeup artists🫶🏻

liked by alexandrasaintmleux, joeyb_9, charles_leclerc, and 13,000,000 others

alexandrasaintmleux mami😍

^ y/n.leclerc kiss me rn😍

charles_leclerc alex has been staring at the phone for the past 15 minutes….

^ y/n.leclerc sounds like a you problem bud😪

fan1 NOT JOE BURROW LIKING?!!?!

^ fan2 IK HE NEVER LIKES

joeburrowswife idk I don’t see the hype

^ y/n2fine yet she’s pulling your “man”

rachelzegler welcome to the squad Y/N❤️

^ y/n.leclerc Thankyou rach💕🥹

bellahadid weird way to propose but yes😍

^ y/n.leclerc SHE SAID YES YALL💍👩🏻‍❤️‍💋‍👩🏻

#f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x sister!reader #arthur leclerc #joe burrow x reader #nfl imagine #arthur leclerc x reader

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nereidprinc3ss · 2 days

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do you believe me now? | 4

in which spencer reid and inexperienced fem!reader are interrupted at the most inopportune of times. he calls you on the first night of his case. dirty talk turns into a hard conversation. we get a glimpse into spencer's past, and we finally learn why he's so hesitant to sleep with you.

part one | part two | bonus chapter | part three

18+ (smut) warnings/tags: dirty talk, phone sex/mutual masturbation, softdom!spence, obligatory he talks u through it, lots of graphic discussions of sex, established relationship, angst (sorrryyy!) a/n: so remember how i said you'd need the bonus chapter to fully appreciate/understand this part? i was wrong!! it will come in handy probably in the next part tho:) also idk how these parts keep getting so long im sorry! anyway, i love you all so bad. thank you for bearing w/ my craziness. PLEASE let me know your thoughts on this part!! i adore hearing from you!! kisses

(also special thank you to @fliesforeyes who convinced me phone sex w/ spence could be done!! i will link his phone sex blurb here :)) thank u binx!!

“Three million six hundred eighty four thousand three hundred thirty two times fourteen million seven hundred sixty one thousand nine hundred seventy one.”

You’ve lost count of how many stupid math questions you’ve asked your human calculator boyfriend, just to see if he can actually do them. Spencer is silent for a second, and you think you’ve finally stumped him.

“That one is complicated.”

You sit bolt upright in his bed, looking down at him and pointing an accusatory finger. His brows raise at the manic look in your eye.

“You don’t know.”

“I do know. I meant it would be hard to explain if you aren’t a math person.”

“Bullshit!” You scoff, “you don’t know!”

“It would display on a calculator as five-point-three-eight-eight-E-thirteen. It’s a really big number.”

“Oh, really big, huh?” you mumble, searching for your phone blindly in the sheets and scrambling to open the calculator app. “Um… what numbers did I say?”

Spencer repeats them back to you and you press the equals sign.

You look at it.

And then you set your phone down.

“I was right, huh?” he smiles up at you, probably reveling in your pouty wrongness.

Too proud to admit it, you collapse on top of him, burying your face in his shoulder.

“I don’t like this game anymore. What the fuck even is an e? Why are we doing algebra?”

Spencer laughs, brushing your hair aside.

“The e stands for exponent. It’s to the power of ten.”

“Ever heard of a rhetorical question?”

“Yes, I have.”

It’s hard not to snort even at his dumbest jokes.

“You’re annoying. Let’s do something else.”

You roll over onto your back again, letting your head flop over to look at Spencer, whose hair is exactly the right amount of messy after a long day, falling in impossibly soft waves over the perfect lines and contours of his face. Despite lounging, he’s still in his suit from work—he’d left Quantico and immediately picked you up. There were no solid plans for the evening, so after both of you pretended that you wanted to go out for a while, you ended up back at his apartment.

He looks good. Almost too good.

“Something like what?” he smiles lazily, reaching over and tracing his fingers over your cheek.

“Something… naked?”

His grin widens and he shakes his head.

“Me naked or you naked?”

Pretending to think about it, you roll your bottom lip between your teeth.

“Mm… why not both?”

“Hm. Why do I feel like I know where this is going?”

The mattress sinks underneath your elbow as you prop yourself up, dropping your head over Spencer’s to kiss him.

“Because you’re so smart, and you think it’s a great idea.”

He entertains your kiss for a moment. Just a moment.

“You sound sure of yourself.”

“Because I am!” You finally give in to your impulses, tangling your fingers in his hair and looking at him meaningfully. “It doesn’t make any sense for us to have not had sex. I don’t care about any of your weird, cryptic moral reasoning.”

He grabs your wrist carefully.

“It is not moral,” he scoffs. “We haven’t even talked about it yet.”

“Really? Because I feel like we’ve talked about it a lot.”

He begins to reply, but you realize you don’t want to get into a debate over whether you’ve technically talked about it yet. “I don’t even care! If that’s all that’s standing in your way, then let’s talk about it. Right now.”

Spencer sighs, his eyes darting between yours as he reaches up to cradle your cheek.

“Fine. But I have things to say you’re not going to like.”

“So business as usual?”

He rolls his eyes. You allow yourself a tiny self-satisfied smirk, forever relishing in his poorly-hidden soft spot for your constant teasing. Spencer ignores this. Which is probably for the best.

“I know you probably won’t see it this way, but—sex is different than everything else we’ve done so far. It can be really fun, obviously it feels good, it facilitates deeper feelings of connection—that’s all true. Which is why, in my opinion, it’s incredibly important that you be selective with who you sleep with. Because it’s so easy to do something you regret, and sex is vulnerable. It should always be with someone you trust and—and… care about.”

A pink flush stains his cheeks like watercolor as he stumbles over the last few words. It makes your heart flutter against the confines of your chest.

Maybe best not to think about the absence versus presence of certain four-letter words and what they may or may not mean. You’ll move on to more pressing matters and pretend like it doesn’t ache just a little in your whole body.

You cover his hand with your own.

“Are you going to break up with me anytime soon?”

Spencer’s eyes widen, filling with genuine horror and confusion.

“What? No!”

“Are you going to cheat on me?”

“Absolutely not, I—”

“Then I’m not going to regret it. Issue resolved. Moving on.”

“Honey, I just want you to be 100% sure that I’m what you want.”

“Oh my god,” you groan, flopping onto your back once more. “I have begged you to sleep with me on multiple occasions. We have been dating for months and I liked you even longer before that. I think about it literally every time I see you. I don’t know how to be any surer.”

It’s quiet for a moment as you study the imaginary pattern on the ceiling. The rebuttal you’d been anticipating doesn’t come—instead, the mattress shifts next to you. Spencer enters your field of vision, now leaning over you with a little smile on his face that gives you butterflies.

“Every time?”

“…yes, every time,” you agree, voice considerably thinner than it had been a moment ago. Spencer glances at your lips as he speaks.

“Interesting. And what is it that you think about exactly?”

You groan again, attempting to roll facedown, but he pins your shoulder to the bed. The way he’s sweetly kissing down your cheek and jaw is infuriating because you know it’s a false pretense.

“Ugh, I don’t know! Don’t make me answer that!”

“You said if talking about it was all that was standing in my way, we would talk about it. Now I want to talk about it. Come on,” he says, voice low and cloying against your throat as he attempts to tease the answer out of you. “Tell me what you think about when you think about us having sex.”

You let out a shaky breath at the feeling of his lips skimming your neck, hating how easily he can reduce you to this.

“I… I always wonder what it will feel like. Sometimes I wonder if it will hurt.”

Spencer sighs, interrogation by way of seduction momentarily forgotten. You silently curse yourself for saying something so un-sexy.

“It might, sweetheart. That’s one of the reasons we’ve held back. I… really don’t want to hurt you. I don’t even know if I can.”

You grab his face in both hands, forcing him to look at you with more confidence than you feel.

“Sometimes I worry about it, too. But I like you a lot more than it scares me. I still want to.”

He kisses your palm.

“You’ll be okay. It doesn’t hurt for everyone, and even if it does, you’re resilient.”

“Exactly. So you have to get over yourself.”

Spencer laughs like he wasn’t expecting to, eyes sparkling as he regards you.

“Yeah. Yeah, maybe I do.”

He’s smiling again as he leans down and kisses you—a slow, lingering thing which tastes like spearmint as you part your lips for him.

“Please?” you whisper against him after a long moment. He hums, keeps kissing you.

“What is it that you think you want? You don’t even know what you’re asking for.”

“Tell me,” you beg, chasing his lips. “Tell me what you’re going to do with me. We can talk about it. This is talking about it.”

Spencer exhales deeply, wedging a thigh between yours. Immediately you clamp around it, trying not to grind against him too overtly.

“You want to know what I’d do to you?”

“Yes—” you paw at his jacket. Surprisingly, he doesn’t stop you from pushing it off. Your heart pounds.

“Well… we both know how anxious you get,” he muses, pressing his lips so delicately to your fluttering pulse-point in emphasis, and then back to your mouth. His thigh pushes harder against you to supplant the absence of his lips as he speaks, though he kisses you sporadically and between sentences. “You’re hard to get out of your head when you’re nervous, you know that? I watch it happen. One minute you’re with me, and then you start overthinking, and getting self-conscious. The only thing that seems to relax you is letting me touch you—so first I would touch you like I’ve touched you before. I’d make sure you know how pretty you are and how good you deserve to feel.” You whimper inadvertently at his words, arching into him and grinding against his leg as he pauses to kiss the sensitive soft spot below your jaw. “You’re going to need to be really ready to let me in. Do you know what I mean by that?”

As he asks, he pushes his thigh against you harder. Your body responds immediately, arching into him and seeking more friction. When you squeak, he takes it as a no.

“I mean I need you relaxed and wet. You’ll excuse my crude language.”

You pull at his tie, breathing heavier now and so turned on it’s almost painful.

“What are you gonna do after that?”

“What else is there to do but fuck you after that?” he breathes. “You want me to tell you how I’d fuck you?”

Something about it makes you whine salaciously. You’ve heard him curse—you’ve even heard him talk about fucking you. But it feels more real now; when it’s low in your ear and you’re covertly undressing him and he’s pushing your shirt over your stomach promisingly.

“Yes, please.”

He hums against your jaw, nipping and brushing his lips over the skin as he considers. Leaves you waiting.

“I would have to take my time with you. You’ll be overwhelmed. I know you think you won’t, but you will. I’m going to have to be so, so careful with you, angel. It’s going to drive me insane. But it will feel good for you.”

“Why careful? I don’t want that.”

He chuckles. A chill runs down your spine.

“Yeah, you do. You’re going to want me to be careful when I’m—” he pauses, pressing his thumb to your bare lower tummy and dragging up to a spot below your belly button. He presses down lightly again. “Right here. Approximately.”

The surface of the sun has nothing on the temperature of your skin in this moment, as you writhe underneath him in both arousal and embarrassment. Mostly, burning need. You feel almost sick with it.

“Please don’t make me wait anymore. Just do it, please, Spencer. I need it to be you, I don’t want it to be anyone else. I promise I’m ready.”

It’s silent for a moment. Your heart quickens. You sense his walls wearing away, his instinct to keep you intact for god knows what reason crumbling. He’s finally going to give you what you’ve been begging for.

Spencer opens his mouth, eyes glimmering—

And then his phone rings.

You both freeze—he melts dejectedly before you do, more accustomed to an ill-timed phone call and realizing the finality it can present.

He’s breathing heavily against your neck, as if maybe whoever it is will just hang up. But the phone keeps ringing.

“I’m sorry.”

Your stomach sinks as he sits up, grabbing his phone from the side table and rubbing circles on your inner thigh as he answers.

“This is Reid,” he says, lackluster.

If you wanted, you could hear what Penelope is saying—but you don’t bother listening. It’s going to be a case. Spencer is about to leave. The details are his problem.

“Okay. I’ll be there in an hour.”

He hangs up, tossing the phone onto the mattress and not speaking for a moment, just continuing to rub your leg apologetically. Watching you almost mournfully—taking in your disheveled hair, your likely blown-out pupils, the shirt pushed almost over your chest.

“I have to go right now,” he finally manages with a heavy sigh, gently pulling your shirt back into place.

You sit up, shedding all the hopes that had been building for the evening, and try to sound chipper—though all you feel is bitter disappointment that goes deeper than you understand.

“I know. Go ahead, I can get a cab home.”

He frowns, running his hand over the back of your hair.

“I don’t love the idea of you standing on the sidewalk waiting for a car in this part of town so late. Do you just want to stay here for the night and go home tomorrow?”

You force a smile. Great. So you’ll be spending the night in his bed after all—just without him.

“Sure. Thanks.”

“Yeah.”

Neither of you are feeling particularly grateful.

Soon you’re walking him to his own door. Both of you come to a stop in front.

“I’m sorry,” he sighs again.

“Spencer, it’s fine. It’s your job. You don’t need to apologize. You were very clear about this part when we started dating.”

“I know, but… it’s easier in theory than in practice.”

You smile. If Spencer is a reflection of you, it doesn’t quite reach your eyes. His hair is still messy from your fingers running through it and he’s missing his tie. You hope all his coworkers see and feel bad about taking him away from you.

But it’s not their fault. You just want someone to blame.

Instead you mould yourself to his body, wrapping around him like you belong there. He returns your embrace, pressing his lips into the crook of your shoulder and rubbing your back in that way he always does with you.

In that moment, your affection for him becomes so profound it’s like a chemical reaction—everywhere he touches burns and you love him so fucking much it aches in every inch of your body the way your muscles do when you have a bad fever. Love is the most terrible of afflictions, you realize. It is a fever dream. It’s every fiber of your being screaming to tell him how you feel, to beg him on your knees not to go because you love him like a child loves a parent or a bee loves honeysuckle or the ocean loves the horizon. Pared down to your most basic components, the barest version of yourself, you require him. Your soul needs his soul.

“Spencer?”

“Hm?”

It’s nothing more than an absentminded hum against your skin.

“I…”

Should you be looking him in the eye when you say this? Should you say it right before he has to leave? Just because you say it doesn’t change the fact that he’s about to be gone for several long days. Maybe this is a terrible time to admit something that suddenly feels so true and so consequential.

He senses your internal conflict, pulling back despite your resistance and holding your face between his hands.

“You what?” He murmurs, soft eyes bouncing back and forth between your own. Fuck—you feel so observed, now. Like he can read your mind.

“I forget.”

FUUUUUUCK.

Spencer blinks. Processes. You watch the disbelief crystallizing over his eyes like ice freezing over a lake.

He knows.

He knows you didn’t forget, and he probably knows what you were going to say, and he’s going to tell himself he was wrong to spare your dignity.

Everything hurts when he kisses you. You wonder what regret tastes like.

“Well, let me know if you remember.”

It’s too gentle and at the same time he can’t hide the edge with all the tenderness in the world. You nod as if in a trance, already looking forward to dissociating as you lie in bed and stare at the dark ceiling.

Two small goodbyes are exchanged, slightly stifled now, as if shared between drunk strangers who have sobered up and are mutually embarrassed about how candidly they’d interacted before.

You close the door behind him, doing up all the locks, and meticulously flick every light switch in the apartment off before climbing into his bed—though you don’t really feel like you deserve to be there anymore.

But perhaps this is all an overreaction. It’s not like you owe it to him to say I love you, or anything—it was bad timing, anyway. And why can’t he say it? In fact, why hasn’t he said it?

Maybe you have it all wrong.

Maybe he doesn’t feel that way about you.

You fall asleep before you allow these questions to make you sick.

24 hours go by.

24 hours go by and you really had meant to leave his apartment—it was just that you woke up late, and your phone was dead so you couldn’t call a car, so you charged it while you made breakfast, and then you ate, and then you decided to take a shower and wash your clothes, and then it was two in the afternoon and you hadn’t left yet and you decided to walk to the store and replenish the groceries you’d used up.

Maybe you got a bit distracted looking at flowers and other beautiful things at the market and by the time you got home it was 5:00, so you decided to wait until seven to skip rush hour. And then eight, just to be sure.

Before you know it, it’s midnight, and you’re dozing off in his bed again (teeth cleaned with the brush you’d bought at the store—maybe this whole situation hadn’t been entirely unwitting on your part.)

Throughout the day, you tried to let all your anxiety about the previous night melt away. If it’s something that needs to be addressed, Spencer will address it. Everything will work out in the end. That thought is how you’re able to doze off.

You’re almost asleep when your phone lights up and begins buzzing on the side table. You wince as your eyes open, not adjusting well to the harsh bright display and unable to discern who’s even calling you at this hour. Stupidly, probably because you’re half asleep, you answer without checking.

“Hello?”

Your voice is groggy, quiet with sleep.

“Shit, did I wake you?”

“Spence?” you whisper, stomach flipping at the sound of his voice on the other line. You feel caught, still sleeping in his bed.

“… yeah,” he chuckles. “Did you not check who was calling before you picked up?”

“I was asleep,” you pout. “Kinda.”

“Okay. Go back to sleep, honey. We’ll talk tomorrow.”

You sit bolt upright, phone balanced between tense fingers and speaking directly into the microphone.

“No! No, I’m awake. What’s up? Why did you call?”

A longer stretch of silence—you’re too sleepy to comprehend what it might mean, though never too sleepy to worry about it. With a pang of pain, you recall your strange goodbye, the words you hadn’t said.

“I just needed to hear your voice,” he sighs. You frown, staring at nothing in particular in the pitch black room.

“Oh. Is everything okay?”

“As much as it can be.”

“Right.”

More quiet. You chew on the inside of your cheek, stricken with a sudden feeling of awkwardness that you haven’t had with Spencer in a while.

“I’m sorry… I don’t really know what to say.”

“That’s okay,” he says, and you can hear the smile in his voice which makes you feel a bit better, “why don’t you tell me about your day? Or you can absolutely go back to sleep, if you’re too tired.”

“Don’t ask me about my day,” you whisper, flopping down on the bed once more. Shame seeps into your voice. He laughs.

“What? Why?”

“Because if I tell you you’re going to think I’m super weird and you’re going to break up with me.”

Laughter tapers off into gentler tones.

“I already think you’re super weird. It’s actually one of your most attractive qualities.”

Blood rushes to your cheeks.

“But it’s like… borderline crazy.”

Immediately, he replies, “for better or worse, I also frequently find myself attracted to crazy.”

“Thank you for calling me crazy and super weird,” you grumble.

“I also called you attractive twice. Tell me.”

When his tone takes on that easy, assertive quality, and it’s sort of raspy and low because it’s late and he’s been talking all day, and you can hear the lazy smile on his face—you imagine him laying on his hotel bed, arm slung over his eyes in the dark as he grins into the microphone—you have a very difficult time saying no.

“Fine. Guess where I am right now.”

“Um, I would hope you’re in bed?”

You smile to yourself, basking in the victory of successfully throwing him off his game even slightly.

“Guess whose bed.”

Silence.

“What an interesting question.” That cocky smile, the low drawling is back, and you chew on your lip, ignoring the shiver that runs down your spine. “If it’s not mine or yours, we’re going to have issues.”

“But if it is yours? You’re not going to call the police on me?”

“Why would I call the police? To tell them there’s a pretty girl in my bed and I don’t want her there?”

“To tell them your psychopathic girlfriend broke into your apartment and might be holding hostages there.”

Spencer laughs; a brittle, drawn out thing, flat and quiet as the desert.

“If you were a psychopath, calling the cops would be a waste of time. I would handle you myself.” The idea of being handled has your thighs clenching. “But—yeah, don’t invite anyone else in.” More humor finds its way into his voice, momentarily relieving some tension that had sneakily begun to build. “Having people in my space makes me anxious.”

“But not me?” Your whisper is half flirtatious, half insecure. Spencer’s reply is soft, as if he’s picking up on this from hundreds of miles away.

“No, not you. You are always the exception.”

“Good,” you say, cheeks aching as you half-bury your warm face into his pillow. “Because I made myself really comfortable. You have a nice shower, by the way.”

Spencer groans.

“You’re killing me.”

“What? What did I do!”

“Don’t talk to me about my bed and my shower. I might start to think you’re intentionally being a brat.”

“You asked me about my day! I’m just telling you what I did!”

But you’re also intentional teasing him for sure. After a pause, he sighs in defeat.

“You’re right. I did do that. Tell me what else happened.”

“Well,” you begin, all too eager, “I had to put my clothes in the dryer after I got out, so I borrowed some of yours. But then they were way comfier than mine, so after I went to the store I put them back on, and—”

“Okay.”

“Okay what?” you frown.

“Tell me what this is.”

“I—I don’t know what you mean.”

Lying to a profiler is usually pointless.

“I’m not stupid, sweetheart. Tell me why you keep talking about my shower and my bed and my clothes.”

Caught red-handed. Your skin heats up.

“I don’t know. I miss you.”

He hums in a way that blurs the line between sympathetic and patronizing. Even through the phone you can feel the bass of it in your bones. It changes the frequency you’re vibrating at. It’s hypnotic.

“But that’s not really why you’re being intentionally provocative, is it?”

“No,” you admit quietly. “I’m still upset you had to go last night.”

“So you’re frustrated and you’re taking it out on me?”

Your brow furrows. Well, when he puts it like that…

“I’m not taking anything out on you.”

“I think you are. And I don’t appreciate that, because I’m on your side, honey. Do you think I prefer being in a hotel bed by myself or being in my bed with you?”

Somehow, he makes you feel like a scolded child. But he makes it appealing in ways you don’t understand.

“Your bed with me,” you murmur, skin prickling with the coldness of his absence even as you curl under the blanket.

“Right. So why don’t you tell me what I can do for you right now, instead of punishing me for things that are beyond my control?”

“I wasn’t punishing you,” you mutter.

“No? You weren’t intentionally talking about using my shower and sleeping in my bed and putting on my clothes so that I’d have to think about what I can’t have right now?”

“I—”

“Believe me when I tell you I have been thinking about what I can’t have, all day. Your efforts are entirely redundant and you can’t say anything about yourself that is even close to as dirty as the frankly disrespectful thoughts I’ve been having about you for seventeen hours.”

The lack of air is making you so dizzy your vision goes gray at the edges.

“What… what thoughts?”

“None that you need to concern yourself with.”

“You can’t just say something like that and then not tell me!” you insist. He’s obviously giving you a taste of your own medicine and it’s fair but it doesn’t mean you have to like it.

“I can do whatever I want,” Spencer corrects cooly in a way that pisses you off beyond belief because he’s right. It triggers some adolescent immaturity within you—a desire to get back at him, so to speak. He wants intentionally provocative? He can have it.

“Fine. Then so can I. And there’s nothing you can do to stop me.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it even if I could.”

“Spencer,” you warn. “If you don’t tell me what you were thinking I’m gonna—” you look around the room for ammo. “I’m gonna look through your nightstand!”

“Go ahead. I’ll warn you, it’s not very interesting.”

“Sounds like what someone who has something hide would say,” you mumble, crawling across the mattress through tangled sheets and using your phone flashlight to open the drawer.

Spencer is patient and silent as you take in its contents—a small blue leather-bound notebook (full of what looks like Russian), a fountain pen, a glasses case, various kinds of vitamins, and—

“Spencer Reid,” you say, dragging out his name and pretending nothing is fluttering in your stomach, “what are these?”

“I don’t know. I can’t see what you’re referring to.”

“Take a wild guess.”

“Oh, I have one. But I’d like to hear you say it.”

You realize you may have gotten yourself in deeper than you meant to by going through his stuff. Well—they don’t say karma is a bitch for nothing.

“What are you doing with a box of condoms?”

He chuckles and you feel it in your whole body, warm as you stretch across his mattress and eye the box like it might jump out at you.

“Those are years old. I’ve used three since I bought them.”

“Don’t tell me that,” you whine. “I don’t wanna think about all the other women you’ve seduced.”

“You wanted them to be for you, huh?”

You flush. Honestly you hadn’t even thought about that.

“I… I don’t know. I kind of just assumed…”

It’s silent for a second and you frown, realizing you hadn’t even considered protection when you’d imagined sleeping with him before.

“You assumed what, honey?” he asks, voice soft.

“It’s dumb. I can’t tell you.”

“You can tell me anything. I’m not going to think it’s dumb, I promise.”

You chew on your lip, letting your eyes unfocus on the box as you muster the courage to be honest.

“Whenever I imagined it… we didn’t… use anything.”

The words make you cringe even as you’re saying them. So does the quiet that follows.

“When you imagine us sleeping together, we don’t use a condom?”

“Ah!” The phone drops to the mattress as you cover your ears and roll onto your side, curling into yourself once more. “You didn’t have to say it! You make me sound so weird!”

“It’s not weird,” he laughs, because he can probably imagine exactly what you just did, “I just wanted to make sure I was understanding you. That said… we would definitely use protection.”

“Do we have to?”

The quiet words take even you by surprise—and they seem to stun Spencer as well. Several false starts are punctuated by a sigh as he gathers his thoughts.

“We really should, baby. That’s the kind of thing we need to take seriously.”

“But you’re… you’re good, right?”

Thankfully he picks up on your meaning.

“I am. I wouldn’t touch you if I weren’t.”

“And I’m good. So...”

“Hm. And has anyone ever explained to you where babies come from?”

You groan in frustration.

“Spencer, I’m being serious! There are ways to negate that.”

“Honey,” he murmurs, “I understand that. But it would be irresponsible of me to say yes. We can talk about it in the future, but—”

“I’m telling you it’s already dealt with. The chances of an accidental pregnancy are slim to none.”

The new information hangs in the air for a moment until Spencer speaks—to your surprise, his voice is low and humorous.

“That is… good to know. But even so—I’m setting a dangerous precedent if I always let you get exactly what you want.”

“Is it such a bad thing that I just wanna—I wanna know what it feels like? You don’t want that?”

“That’s not what I said. I want to know exactly what you feel like. I’m just hesitant to give in so quickly because it makes me look weak.”

You laugh breathlessly, caught between being turned on by the first part of his sentence and amused by the sarcastic second half. Your thighs clench and your hand absentmindedly wanders between them.

“You know what I was thinking about?” you ask. Spencer hums curiously. “I was thinking about when you let me, um… when you let me touch you how you touch me.” He hums again, but you can hear the amused curve of a smile in it now.

“When you had your mouth all full of me and you looked so pretty?”

“When I—yeah,” you agree, too caught up to deny his compliment as your fingers brush your most sensitive spot through clothing. “And how you got me all messy after. And I was wondering what it would feel like… inside me.”

He sucks in a breath. Your legs brush against each other and you twist slightly as you pretend like you’re not touching yourself just a little bit.

“You want me to come inside you?”

“Yeah,” you whisper, brain short-circuiting at the way those words sound in his voice.

—

On the other side of the line, Spencer isn’t doing a fantastic job of thinking clearly either. His dick is half-hard already and it’s only getting worse with each little noise you make that you don’t seem to realize you’re making.

“Really? That would be very messy, baby. I’m surprised that’s what you want.”

“But I really want it,” you breathe. He’s not even looking as he slips his hand under the waistband of his pajamas and palms himself, his other hand rubbing tiredly over his face as his phone rests on his chest. This was not how he intended for this call to go, believe it or not—but he’s here now.

“Yeah? Is that why you’re touching yourself right now?”

You go silent—which is more or less exactly the reaction Spencer had been expecting. Patiently he waits for you to deny it, in three, two—

“’M not.”

Now, he could explain how he knows that’s a lie. How your breathing pattern changed, and your voice got softer and airier, and how you started speaking with smaller words in fragmented sentences. But he doesn’t feel like explaining any of that.

“I know that’s not true,” he murmurs. “You know what? It wasn’t fair to get you all worked up last night and then leave. I don’t want you frustrated, honey. I want you to do whatever you need to do.”

You make a little gasping noise, and Spencer can imagine the way your back would arch when you did it. His own hips buck slightly as his dick twitches under his fingers.

“Where are you touching?”

“Um—over my clothes.”

Cute.

“Go under them for me. Tell me how it feels when you’re touching yourself like that.”

It takes a moment, in which all he hears is the rustling of fabric, until you’re whispering, “feels… it feels good. I wish you were here.”

He inhales, freeing his cock and squeezing the base.

“I know. Just listen to my voice, pretty. I’m right here.”

Spencer allows himself a few slow tugs as he imagines what’s happening in his bed. You make a squeaking noise, like a held-back moan, and his eyes screw shut.

“I need them inside,” you whine, and he knows you’re referring to his fingers—the ones currently stroking his own leaking cock.

“You can use your own, just give yourself a minute first. Remember what I said about needing to be ready?”

“I am ready—” judging by the surprised chirp you interrupt yourself with, you’ve proven yourself right. What surprises Spencer is the weak sound of disappointment you make next. “Spence, it doesn’t feel the same.”

“We’re different sizes, honey. Your hands aren’t as big as mine. But you can still make it feel good.”

He almost says, 90% of the nerves in the vaginal canal are located in the lower third—in other words, within approximately 2.36 inches from the opening, which you can most certainly reach—but he refrains. He’s not sure if that’s good dirty talk.

“You have a really sensitive spot about three inches up, right in front. It’s going to feel a little different than the rest of you when you touch it. I want you to try and find it for me, okay?”

“Okay,” you breathe, ever-eager to please even from a great distance. There’s a quiet moment. “I can’t—I don’t think I can r—oh,”

The moan is so pretty Spencer can’t help speeding up the motion of his hand, hissing slightly as his fingers brush against the angry tip with every pump.

“Did you find it?”

“Yeah,” you whine, a weak, high-pitched thing. “Oh my god.”

“Be gentle,” he warns with some effort as his own hips jump slightly. “You’re really sensitive there. If you’re not careful you’ll make yourself sore.”

“I don’t care—holy shit—” the way your voice rises and tightens to a squeak at the end has Spencer moaning as he fucks his fist. A black hole forms and warps time, turning every minute into a second and every second into an infinity until he has no idea how much time is going by. He drags his thumb over the tip, smearing precum over his cock and whining as his jaw drops at the feeling. “Oh my god, Spencer,” in that same strained, high voice. “’M gonna—ah!”

He gets the general sentiment.

“What, baby? You’re gonna make yourself come all over your fingers? Is that what you wanted to tell me?”

“Mhm!”

“Yeah, I bet you are. It feels good, huh?”

“Yes,” you cry.

“See? You don’t need my fingers to feel good. Mine barely fit, you know that? I have to hold your fucking hips down whenever I put my fingers in you because you can’t stop squirming. I don’t know how you think you’re going to take my cock.”

“Spencer!”

He knows.

“Come, baby. Let me hear you.”

The delicate sounds you make as you bring yourself to orgasm tip him over the edge of his own—grunting as he comes all over his fist.

“Jesus,” he strains under his breath, the word dragging out into two long syllables as his hips buck involuntarily and cum drips down his knuckles. He’s lightheaded and he’s created a mess and it all happened so quickly. “Fuck,” he breathes, a rasping chuckle as he reaches for the towel he’d dropped on the bed after his shower earlier. “You conscious over there?”

“I’m conscious,” you slur, breathing heavily. “I’ve never had an orgasm by myself before.”

“Are you proud of yourself?” Spencer smiles, wiping his hand off and making sure he’s otherwise clean. “You should be. I am.”

He’s barely kidding.

“I’ll be proud when I can do it without your help,” you tease.

“But I’ll always want to help you with that.” His already warm face flushes further as he goes over what he’d said. “Sorry I was so vulgar.”

You laugh. He blushes even more.

“Are you? I think you secretly love being vulgar.”

“I don’t know why! I have no idea where it comes from. I would never speak that way in any other context. I should probably work on that. Sometimes I look back on the things I say and I’m genuinely appalled.”

“Well, don’t stop on my account. Personally I enjoy it.”

“Yeah, I think I’m corrupting you. You probably shouldn’t enjoy it.”

The truth of it weighs heavy on his mind, but he’s pretty sure his voice alone doesn’t betray that and you can’t sense it through the phone.

“Oh, my god. Do not do that falling on your sword shit. I like being corrupted by you. If you stop I’ll be very upset.”

“Well god forbid you get upset,” he teases gently. Idly he wonders if the reason he’s suddenly feeling so depressed is because his cortisol levels were already high from the case, and then he jarred his system with an orgasm, spiking his dopamine and ultimately causing it to plummet without the oxytocin release that post-coital physical contact would usually provide.

Or if it was something else. It could also be something else.

For the millionth time, he wishes he was with you. Part of him also wants to go to sleep. But mostly he wishes he was with you.

—

A comfortable silence settles over the conversation. In the ditch between words, you’re mapping constellations in the texture of Spencer’s ceiling. If you squeeze your eyes almost shut, you can imagine it really is the night sky. You can imagine he’s really here.

You think about what he said—his apparently mindless vulgarity. Did it mean anything? Or was he just rambling to get you off?

“Spencer?” you murmur.

“Yeah?”

“Can I ask you a question?”

He sounds earnest, perhaps a little tired, as he replies, “always,” through the little metal rectangle on your chest. He likes me and my questions are important to him, you repeat to yourself silently as you work up the strength.

“If Penelope hadn’t called, last night… were you going to have sex with me?”

Your lip tastes like his toothpaste as you chew it. Spencer sucks in a breath of air like he’s about to speak—and lets it fizzle out like foam on a carbonated drink.

“I don’t know,” he finally admits, lamely. “That wasn’t my plan, but you can be extremely convincing when you want to be.”

“But why can’t it be your plan?” It’s an almost whine, pouty and childish—but the next words are quiet and pained. “Is it something I’m doing wrong?”

“No, no! It’s not you. You’re perfect. It’s—it’s complicated. It’s a me thing.”

Such trite words—such a ubiquitous, simple excuse sounds almost comical from his mouth when you know he’s capable of all the eloquence in the world. It’s not you, it’s me. It’s ridiculous.

“Okay. Let me simplify this for you,” you begin with an uncharacteristic assertiveness that surprises even you. “I want to have sex with you. Either we are going to have sex or we’re not. So your future branches in two diverging paths. In one, we have sex, and then we keep having sex. In the other we never have sex ever. If you want to ever have the privilege of fucking me, then we just have to do it. Otherwise it simply will never happen. And I’m not eternally patient, Reid.”

Go me, you think, slightly breathless from your monologue.

“Watch your mouth,” he says dryly. Something about the chastisement makes your stomach flip and your whole body tingle. “When you talk to me you call me Spencer. I will also accept Doctor Reid.” You wrestle down a smile, refusing to let him change the subject. A delayed sigh from him sobers up the conversation. “You know what I want. I’ve been very clear with you about that. But…”

“But…?”

Another sigh. A deeper, shuddering sigh, like his breath is searching for balance. Like Spencer is in a precarious position for which he was unprepared.

“But—but to be completely honest… I worry that you’ll regret choosing me. And I know virginity is a social construct and I’m not implying that your worth will somehow be diminished if we have sex but regardless of my views on virginity as a construct, having sex for the first time can be weird and scary and it’s incredibly intimate and I don’t want you to regret your first time like I regret mine because you chose the wrong person.”

The words come at you so rapid-fire it takes you a moment to process them. And aside from all the ways you want to reassure him that you will not regret choosing him—that you could never, ever regret anything about him—one thing stands out.

“You regret your first time?”

Something between a scoff and a sigh travels through the line. You can tell he’s not annoyed at you for asking so much as he’s flustered himself with all his own words as he occasionally does.

“Yeah. Yes. Sometimes I do. The person—she didn’t… like me as much as I liked her. And I was really, really in love with her, and she knew that and she knew she wasn’t in love with me—or maybe she was, I don’t know—but my point is, when one person likes the other more than the other person like them, things get complicated. And however you feel about me—that’s fine. It’s fine. I don’t want you to feel bad if we don’t feel exactly the same way about each other. I understand that this is newer for you, it’s different, I—I just don’t want us to do something we can’t undo because I don’t want to relive that. And I’m not saying it will never happen but I just don’t want you to make this choice when… when right now, I think we’re in different places emotionally. Regardless of that, I want you to choose the right person. I don’t want you to choose me and then find out that we feel differently after we sleep together and leave you feeling like you signed up for something you didn’t understand. I’m sorry. Maybe telling you this is selfish. But I’ve been thinking about it and trying to ignore it and I think I just have to be completely honest.”

Your ears ring like Spencer just fired a blank right into the microphone. Like you just got backhanded across the face and now you have the world’s worst case of whiplash.

Every finger is numb and your blood is so cold it feels blue as it slithers thick through your veins.

What you want to do is scream. What you want to do is go back to last night and stop yourself from almost telling him I love you, slap yourself and keep your cards a little closer to your chest. Because now he knows, and he doesn’t feel the same.

You want to scream bloody murder.

But when you try, when you unhinge your jaw and part your chapped lips and expect a bellow to come hurdling up the corridor of your throat with so much force it rattles your bones, all that falls out is a small, “oh.”

Maybe that’s worse.

Spencer doesn’t reply. You hate yourself for feeling obliged to fill the silence.

“I didn’t realize you…”

I didn’t realize that you don’t love me back.

I didn’t realize I like you more than you like me.

I didn’t realize you’d tell me to masturbate in your fucking bed and then drop this not even five minutes later.

If Spencer Reid was able to talk to you over the phone with the same amount of affection and familiarity as always, like everything was still okay, knowing you love him and he doesn’t love you the whole time, he is not who you thought he was.

“I’m sorry,” he lamely says again, like it could ever help.

More silence. Now you can’t bring yourself to speak, so Spencer does.

“I realize how awkward this is. I really didn’t mean to put you in this position. Especially not over the phone when I—god, I’m stupid. I’m sorry. But can we—can we talk about this in person when I get back? Please?”

Is that what grownups do? Is the proper etiquette for him to take you out to dinner and explain why he’s not in love with you? Is he going to break up with you?

What does one even wear to a breakup date?

“Okay,” you whisper. Your eyes sting, your everything stings, like you’ve been wrapped in a shroud of briar. Sheets that were soft a moment ago feel like sandpaper on open wounds. You feel like an open wound.

Spencer sighs. It’s a sound of relief that confuses and hurts you even more.

“Okay. I—okay. Thank you. Um—I’ll let you go back to sleep, now.”

“Okay,” you repeat—as if any of this were okay. But you can’t keep being that stupid girl who feels it all so much harder, who loves easily and begs to be loved in return, too naive to assume that someone who treats her so kindly might not reciprocate her feelings. It has to be okay, because if it’s not, you’re silly and dramatic and you’re just proving him right.

“Goodnight,” Spencer whispers, and you can’t help but feeling that it’s the last time you’ll ever hear those words from his mouth while you’re in his bed. And he’s not even fucking here.

So you pull the blanket a little higher. You let your tears stain his pillow because they’ll be invisible by the morning. It will be like they were never here. Like you were never here.

“Goodnight.”

#spencer reid #spencer reid fic #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #criminal minds #criminal minds smut #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds fic

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uncsukuna · 2 days

Text

men who dk what to do w their gorgeous gf...

like, genuinely. all hours of the day he contemplates how he managed to get you to speak to him and then date him.

when you two go out on a date? 90% of it is spent with him just staring at your face, admiring every twitch in your expression. that smile, the way your nose wrinkles when you don’t like something, that little crease in your brow when you concentrate or think...

don’t get him started on how flawless your makeup is (if you wear it)! bro will be admiring how glossy your lips are or the length of your lashes or how the color of your eyeshadow perfectly compliments your complexion and outfit.

it’s even worse when you spend the night. he’ll stay up later (or even go as far as to try and sleep with his eyes open) to look at you. he’ll get up earlier, just to watch you sleep, that gentle and consistent rise and fall of your chest.

the compliments are neverending btw. he’s afraid of being too repetitive (in case you think he’s being insincere), so he gets a bit... creative. most of the time it results in you laughing at him — truthfully, that’s way more satisfying than his original goal. other times, you simply don’t get it, which is fine too — your confused expression is adorable.

oh, and when people ask how he somehow made you his?

“man, i don’t even know.”

it’s safe to say he’s absolutely whipped for you <3

isagi, tokimitsu, yuuji, yuuta, gojo (hear me out), higuruma, choso + denji

#﹒writing #jjk #jjk x reader #bllk #bllk x reader #csm #csm x reader #satoru gojo x reader #yuuji itadori x reader #choso x reader #yuuta okkotsu x reader #higuruma hiromi x reader #yoichi isagi x reader #tokimitsu aoshi x reader #denji x reader #jjk fluff #bllk fluff #csm fluff #jjk smut

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onsomenewsht · 3 days

Text

Helpless to the bass and faded light

About when she bribes you and you dance with her like a filled stadium isn't looking

》 Leah Williamson x Reader

》 words count: +1k

》 she took my arm / I don't know how it happened / we took the floor and she said

You don’t like football.

It’s quite a boring game if you stop to think about it for a moment. Two dozen and counting people running around a ball trying to kick it into a huge net.

Not something you look forward to sit through for almost two hours.

Despite your father’s best efforts, you being his only kid and his only hope to pass down his passion, the sport never managed to interest you long enough to care.

You even found yourself in the stands of your dad’s favourite club’s home more times than you’re able to remember, going beyond yourself and cheering when the other people around you did.

The things you do to make your parents proud.

How you managed to have the English captain wrapped around your finger, regardless of your well-known dislike for her biggest passion and purpose in life, is still a mystery for your families and friends.

“Pretty please, just this one”

“Oh, shut up!”, you hit her arm and push her off you, both still naked.

You can’t believe your girlfriend is actually trying to bribe you with sex, not even waiting for you to fully recover before asking to go to the game.

“No, you ruined the mood”, you state as the blonde tries to kiss you again.

The huge grin of her beautiful face is quite dangerous, she can win you over so easily and you both know it.

Leah rises off the bed to retrieve a warm cloth from the bathroom and a clean shirt from the closet. You accept her attention, she’s always caring when it comes to you, but you’re pretty sure the extra effort has a not-so-subtle second purpose.

“You can’t buy me so easily, Williamson”

She can.

“It’s a really important game, my love”

“For who?”

“For me?”, she tries as she slots herself under your open arm, a grin hidden between your neck and the pillow.

“I barely bear you playing”

“You love watching me play”

“I love you, period”

Leah knows how much you think the sport is boring, going way out of your comfort zone just to cheer her. She feels immensely supported when she finds your big smile in the stands, wrapped in one of her jerseys.

It’s not that difficult for you to sit and admire your girlfriend in her element, focusing more on her movements and attitude than paying attention to the actual game.

What you find quite annoying is enduring Arsenal’s men’s team.

The defender’s fingers on your side are slowly soothing you in a compromising position, too relaxed and smitten to keep denying her anything. You know she doesn’t need much more to lure you into her trap and, unfortunately for you, she’s perfectly aware too.

When the blonde’s lips find the particularly sensitive spot on the base of your neck, you’re doomed.

You’re glad your father is already dead or you’d have killed him as you take your seat in the Emirates Stadium, surrounded by the Gunners’ colours. Your girlfriend’s name on your back could be the final nail.

The things you do to make your lover happy.

“You know I love you, right?”

“You better never forget this”, you quip back.

The English captain has been looking forward to this game for weeks now, you couldn’t have been able to turn her down in spite of it all.

She doesn’t need to know though, that you didn’t accept to spend one of your date nights watching the North West London derby for free.

“Maybe you will enjoy it at the end”

Nice try, you will not.

“You know, my dad was a West Ham supporter”

“Could have been worse”, she smiles at you, reaching for your hand.

Talking about your father is getting easier as time finally moves forward and your grief keeps changing its shape. Compared to the abyssal black hole it felt like the first year and a half, of its progress.

Leah didn’t meet him, crushing in your life a couple of months after his passing, but she managed to find a space in your heart that keeps growing despite all your fears.

They could have hit so well, bonding over their shared passion for the sport and their never-ending determination to make you happy.

You told her some stories about him, mostly memories to make your girlfriend understand how stubborn and passionate he was about the thing he cared about.

The one thing you all have in common.

“Yeah, he used to gift me a West Ham jersey every year on Bobby Moore’s birthday”

Leah’s laugh managed to overcome the buzzing atmosphere of the stadium, making you feel like she was the reason all the people around you were cheering. You sure think so.

“He sounds like an incredible father”

“Football obsession aside, he was good”

When you turn to look at her, the blonde’s eyes are already on you and the smile on her face is enough to warm your heart.

The first goal coming within five minutes has you quite engaged in what’s happening on the pitch, you even drag your girlfriend in a kiss as you both rise from your seats to celebrate.

Your commitment declined quite easily after that, more entertained by Leah’s reactions than the actual game. You nod in amusement every time she tries to talk you through one of her analyses, placing a hand on her thigh to stop her from standing up every time the ball is somehow close to the box.

The second half is more eventual, at least that’s what you can understand by the excitement the defender and the people in the stands around you seem to radiate.

You’re not clueless, you’re perfectly aware a five-nil win against Chelsea is quite the result. You care enough to think you can’t wait to go home - Leah is always in the mood for a private celebration when her team triumphs, especially over another London club.

“Can we go now?”, you ask as soon as the referee whistles three times, declaring the end of your and the Blues’ torture.

Leah’s happiness is contagious, so you’re not mad when she drags you in her arms to join her cheers and enthusiastic dance. It takes you less than a second to indulge her, letting the blonde spin you around and matching her excitement.

When she dips you and seals the move with a kiss the laugh that rises out of you is genuine and loud.

At first, neither of you notice the stadium’s camera pointed in your direction, recording your little moment of pure bliss in each other’s arms.

Looking back at it, as all your friends sent you the viral video, you know Leah saw you two on the big screen and went along with her little cocky display of affection and excitement for the victory.

You’re sure your father could be laughing at it too, despite the colors you’re wearing.

fine.

#woso x reader #leah williamson x reader #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso community #lw6 #woso #here we are #short and sweet #i hope you enjoy it

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emphistic · 1 day

Note

hi emm! Since it’s prom season could u make basketball sukuna reacting to someone from the team asking you out for prom?

A/N: hii! i actually received a vv similar request a long time ago and i deleted it because i didnt know how to write it, so maybe this is a sign from God — my redemption time, LMAO

PS: sorry to all my readers who are actually jelly lovers, i am not one of you

“So,” Gojo started, while shoving fries into his mouth, “have you got a date yet? Prom’s comin’ up real quick, y’know?”

The basketball team had just won their last game of the season, and all the players were eating out together in celebration. Sukuna was planning on just spending the rest of the night celebrating with you, like usual, but Gojo dragged him away and you only gave a thumbs up in encouragement. What a girlfriend you were, Sukuna scoffed, handing off your dear boyfriend to Gojo Satoru.

“Why do you care?” Sukuna grimaced at Gojo’s messy eating habits. How could one dare to speak while stuffing their face? Sukuna thought Gojo grew up wealthy, and, hey, aren’t rich people supposed to be, like, super into decorum? Where is this man’s etiquette?

“Sheesh, sorry for asking. I just wanted to know if my friend here,” he nudged Sukuna with his elbow, “needed some help getting a date. No need to be ashamed, Captain. I could hook you up with one of Utahime’s friends.”

“Yeah, no. But since you’re so curious, Satoru, I do have a date, actually.”

“No way, seriously? The big, bad, captain of the basketball team, has a date? For prom? I have to tell Suguru this.” Gojo whipped out his phone and, with his sauce-covered fingers, started typing like a madman.

Sukuna cringed, looking away and biting into his burger. This did not taste as good as your cooking. Why oh why did you let Satoru take him away? he thought. Sukuna would much rather be with you right now, even if it meant having to sit through one of your godawful rom-coms. Any of those would be better than Gojo fucking Satoru.

“I cannot believe he is missing this because he’s sick. Sick! That’s actually sick of him. Haha, get it?” Gojo leaned back in his chair, and Sukuna wished he would slip and fall backwards.

“There’s nothing shocking about me having a date, Satoru. I’m not some kind of loser.”

“Yeah, well. Yorozu’s not attached to your arm right now, so I thought—”

“I told you, I don’t like her like that. I don’t like her at all, matter of fact.”

“She’s, like, obsessed with you, dude.”

“I know,” Sukuna ran a hand down his face. “Just wish she would leave me alone, I’ve been trying my best to avoid her. And I haven’t seen her as often, so I think it’s working.” If Yorozu didn’t take the hint sooner or later, Sukuna would make your guys’ relationship known to the whole campus if he had to. Hell, Gojo didn’t even know yet. No one did, actually.

“Damn, so cold. You just gonna ignore her and break her heart?” Gojo laughed, but that quickly came back to kick him in the butt when he started choking on a fry.

“If you’re not joking, that fry will be the last thing you eat. I swear on your life, I do not want anything to do with that bitch.”

Gojo continued coughing and choking and shaking, but when all subsided and the white-haired man regained most of his posture, he posed the question, “So, you’re not gonna, like, ask me?”

“Ask you what? Ask you to prom? The fuck?”

“No, no, no. I mean, unless you wanted to,” Gojo tucked an overgrown strand of hair behind his ear, a stupid expression on his stupid face. “But, I’m talking about what I asked you. So, you gonna ask me if I have a prom date?”

“I don’t give a fuck if your lame ass has a date or not,” Sukuna spat out.

“Have you any idea how hurt I am now, because of you? Ehuhwaaa,” Gojo let out the fakest ugliest cry Sukuna had ever heard. “You think my ass is lame? Do you know how many would pay to see even a glimpse of my tush?”

“No. And I hope it stays that way.”

“I—how dare you.”

That night, Sukuna had to run away from Gojo in the parking lot of an In-n-Out. Otherwise, Gojo would’ve probably never left him alone. And, you might be thinking, Gojo is a fast runner. How did Sukuna get away? Well, it may or may not have been because Gojo had scarfed down three double-doubles prior. And he could barely stand upright without having to lean against Sukuna.

But, fear not, Sukuna did make it home, into your arms. And even though he did have to sit through your stupid rom-coms, he was so fucking glad to finally be away from that white-haired idiot.

Unfortunately for Sukuna, that peace and tranquility was short-lived. The next morning, he was woken up by your overly obnoxious doorbell. Seriously, when were you going to replace it?

Sukuna groaned, whispering into your hair, “Didn’t know you were expecting visitors, babe.”

“Hm?” Your voice was muffled; your face pressed impossibly close into Sukuna’s bare chest.

“Visitor, sweetheart. Someone’s at your door.”

“Huh?” You stuck your head up from your human pillow, and though missing the warmth, you were quite confused. Visitor? Since when?

It’s safe to say you were even more surprised to see Gojo Satoru outside when you opened your door. But you weren’t the only confused one, not for long, at least. Gojo raised his brow when he saw Sukuna emerge from behind you in all his glory: shirt nowhere to be found, hair unruly, and sweatpants hanging low on his hips.

“Captain? What are you—?” Gojo cleared his throat, “Whatever. Anyway, will you, Y/N, do me the honor of being the jelly to my peanut butter and going to prom with me?” Gojo flashed a smile so bright Sukuna almost fell backwards.

“Uhh, I’m sorry—”

“She doesn’t even like jelly, dumbass. And what’s with this horrendous sign? That’s seriously the best you’ve got?” Sukuna gestured with his chin at the poorly drawn and colored peanut butter jar and jelly. Not to mention, Gojo was also dressed as a sandwich, with two slices of bread on either side of his body.

“What the hell? How would you know if she liked jelly or not?”

“Because I’m her prom date.”

“And—and, what are you doing at her house?”

“I’m her boyfriend.” Sukuna glared at the white male, and slung an arm around your shoulder, out of spite.

Gojo paused, finally putting the puzzle pieces together. “Ohhh. So that’s why you didn’t want to come eat with us yesterday. And that’s why you were so desperate to go home. And that’s why I haven’t seen you with another girl in months.”

“Uh huh.”

“Anywho,” Gojo turned back to you, shoving his sign all up in your face. “Will you go to prom with me?”

“Dude.”

Taglist: @beyond-your-stars @sad-darksoul @mochimoee @r0ckst4rjk @lillycore @deepchromatose @yinyinyinyinyinyin @fivehoneyharg @desihopelessromantic @taiyakii @hannas16 @acroso @msvalsius @call-memissbrightside @kelerina-ballerina @emikokomura

#sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #ryomen x reader #jjk x reader #jjk x you #sukuna fluff

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pochaccoups · 3 days

Text

cw — reader is smaller than seungcheol, size kink, no smut but highly suggestive :3

When you waddle out of your bedroom at five o’clock on the dot, you’re met with Seungcheol sprawled across the living room couch with his arms crossed, near-falling asleep as Solo Levelling plays on the TV screen.

He hasn’t spotted you yet so you tip-toe closer to him, gaze fixed upon his face, only to collapse on top of him when you reach the couch.

He gives a surprised yelp that has a laugh mixed in, his arms absentmindedly settling around your torso.

“Hi,” he says. “Done with work?”

“Mhm,” you tell him.

Seungcheol’s fingers begin to flutter and tickle at your sides, prompting you to squeal and squirm away from him. You’re straddling him now, grasping each of his wrists and pinning them to the couch.

“I’ll kill you,” you joke, glaring at him and his mischief-filled eyes. For a moment your stare wanders to his biceps and how thick they look next to his head and you have to gulp to stop yourself from drooling.

“You’d never,” he taunts.

“Watch m-”

But before you can finish, your back hits the pillowy couch with a soft thud as Seungcheol flips you upside down and settles on your waist. He’s whipped enough that he puts barely a fraction of his weight on you for fear of crushing you. Grinning like a fiend, his arms bulge as he mirrors your position from two seconds ago by pinning your wrists to the couch this time.

The size of his shoulders consumes you. It’s dizzying, your head spinning as your mind wanders and draws the same image of him, only he’s… panting, sweating, his eyes darkened with desire as you take everything he gives you—you feel like a pervert, but god, how can anyone blame you when your best friend looks like that?

Reality smacks you across the face and you’re squirming, unintentionally grinding your hips against his which only makes things so much worse.

When your legs start to kick out against his back, Seungcheol only doubles down on his grip, eyes flashing with something mischievous as he sits up and all of a sudden manhandles you onto your stomach in spite of how you thrash and squeal.

You hate that there’s a pulse between your legs. Humiliating.

“Cheol…” you whine. He’s got your arms pinned to your back with just one of his massive fucking hands. It’s not hard to imagine him driving into you like this with all of his weight, pushing your head into the pillows, chuckling at your shameless moans as you writhe in pleasure.

“Yeah?” he asks.

You’re hesitating the next moment, because something crosses your mind and it’s horrible, terrible, utterly shameless. If you can Seungcheol even a little off guard though, then it’ll be worth it.

“Can you put me in a chokehold?”

“You-what?!”

“Please? You have big arms and I wanna know what it’s like,” you tell him, though that’s definitely not the only reason.

Seungcheol laughs and it’s a mixture of a scoff and something more nervous. It makes you grin for some reason—the fact that you’ve got Choi Seungcheol flustered.

He leans forward, lets go of your wrists, and slowly snakes one of his arms around your neck. Your heart beats hard, pounds in your ears, and there’s something else beating too. Between your legs.

You don’t realise it when your breath catches in your throat, and it’s not from Seungcheol’s thick arm wrapping snugly around your neck. His bicep is hard, flexing when he brings his other hand up to grab the back of your head. You also don’t realise that you’ve sunk your teeth into your bottom lip, or that you’ve started to rub your thighs together.

He doesn’t press, not hard anyway, but you think he must be reading your mind because he’s putting just enough pressure to ignite your senses and light your skin on fire.

Then, his breath is warm on your ear as he asks you, “Like that?”

His voice is so deep that it reaches your guts and it takes everything in you not to moan.

“Yeah, just like that.”

#scoups x reader #scoups smut #seungcheol x reader #seungcheol smut #seventeen smut #seventeen x reader #scoups fanfic #scoups x you #seungcheol x you #seventeen fanfic #seventeen imagine #scoups imagines #[୨୧] — starring: seungcheol

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tidcl · 2 days

Text

mv — yuck! (part i)

pairing(s): max verstappen x photographer!reader

summary: your aesthetic interest in max verstappen is purely professional, you swear.

warnings: mild sexual references i guess

fc: daisy edgar jones

a/n: hiiii this is my first attempt at an f1 fic so i hope y’all like it!! might turn this into a series idk? feel free to send me a req or a suggestion or just a message🫶🏻 my inbox is always open (fr now i turned on asks) (also daniel is at redbull in this 🙏🏻 prayer circle w me guys 🥲🕯️) (partially inspired by yuck by charli xcx)

⭐️ next part

🏁🏎️💨

(instagram)

@ynusername just posted…

tagged @maxverstappen1 @redbullracing

liked by @maxverstappen1, @danielricciardo and others

ynusername maxie in miami 🏎️💦 as usual thank you redbull for having me out!!! looking forward to the next one where i will once again be standing 100m away from max until he forgets i’m there and acts natural for the camera.

user1 uhhh wait why he kinda… 🥵

⤷ user1 and i don’t even fuck with cars like that

⤷ user2 no right like who even is this?

⤷ user3 @user1 @user2 His name is Max Verstappen. He’s a driver for RedBull in Formula 1!

user4 MAXIE!?? UR KIDDING!!

⤷ user5 we’re losing the idgaf war

user6 THE SECOND PIC. GOING INTO CARDIAC ARREST LITERALLY AS WE SPEAK.

redbullracing 🥵💦 (❤️ by @ynusername)

⤷ user7 she liked. are yn and max together?

⤷ user8 @user7 highkey i think shes just employed by them

⤷ user9 @user7 she’s been one of redbulls photographers since they signed max, they’re not together they’re just friends

user10 RAHHHHHH

user11 contender for white boy of the month i dare say😋

danielricciardo Fuck me

⤷ maxverstappen1 Fuck off

⤷ danielricciardo 😬

danielricciardo Yn why don’t you take slutty photos of me?!

⤷ ynusername cos ur always talking ur head off babes

⤷ ynusername max broods. easier to take pics that way.

⤷ ynusername and they’re not SLUTTY!

⤷ maxverstappen1 Exactly, Daniel.

user12 okay so why is her feed 70 percent max? isn’t she a redbull photographer? not a max verstappen photographer?

⤷ user13 its like a known issue. she clearly prefers one of them over the other🫤

(yn’s messages)

(twitter)

(instagram)

🔒 @ynpersonal just posted…

liked by @ysistersuser, @maxverstappen1 and others

ynpersonal anyway 😐 me lately

user1 gorgeous gal! don’t listen to the weirdos

⤷ ynpersonal ty babe love u lots! xx

ysistersuser MWAH LOVE U BIG SISSY

⤷ ynpersonal LOVE U TOO LITTLE SISSY

⤷ ysistersuser 🙂🫵🏻 boyliker

⤷ ynpersonal 😐 so annoyed at u

⤷ ynpersonal still love u tho ig

user2 slay! 🫶🏻

⤷ ynpersonal slay!!! 🫶🏻

danielricciardo Okay so hypothetically…

⤷ ynpersonal hypothetically ur a dickhead daniel

⤷ danielricciardo Hypothetically?

⤷ maxverstappen1 Why are u fighting

⤷ ynpersonal no reason, dan is an asshole

⤷ danielricciardo 👀

user3 When are you visiting home again?? Miss u🤭🫶🏻

⤷ ynpersonal soon i promise!! ill text u!

maxverstappen1 Nice pants

⤷ ynpersonal thank u maxie 🙈 (❤️ by @danielricciardo, @maxverstappen1 & @ysistersuser)

——

📸 ahhhh okay well sound off if you want another part for this. though i think that is probably coming regardless. but yea this is my first f1 fic and my first smau in a longggg time so pls let me know what u think! i’d love love to hear❤️

#max verstappen #f1 #formula 1 #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen social media au #max verstappen smau #f1 x reader #f1 smau #f1 social media au #f1 fanfic #max verstappen x photographer!reader

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jjunae · 3 days

Text

NYC ⸺ sjy

❔ spiderman pays you a visit 〡 spiderman!jake x fmr warnings! lil implications of skinship, swearing ( LIBRARY )

‘are you upset?’

‘no, of course not. do i look upset?’ you asked, teeth grit, while you aggressively flipped through the pages of your book, hardly bothered to spare a glance towards his direction.

‘i don't know. pretty, can you look at me?’ jake pleaded, and you closed the textbook shut, eyes flitting towards the window. he was always there, in his red and blue, web-themed suit. you’d, eventually, grown a habit of leaving it open, just for him.

‘don’t call me that.’

‘i knew you were mad. i promise, i'm not hurt,’ he said, his hand reaching to pull the mask off his face. you instantly jumped off your bed, scrambling over to him, to drag him inside your room. you slammed the shutters down, before turning to face him.

‘are you fucking stupid? i’ve told you a million times! don’t pull it off, even if you’re just out my window,’ you snapped. it was evident you were irritable.

‘sorry,’ he muttered, while he flung the cloth away.

‘don’t throw your shit around my room,’ you grumbled, while he bent over to pick up the mask off your floor, quietly mouthing a “sorry”, yet again.

you looked him up and down, your eyes scanning every inch of his body. he had a bloodied lip, and a couple of scrapes and cuts. not too much, you thought, while pulling out the first-aid box you’d kept for him.

‘sit,’ you instructed, and so he did. he knew exactly where to sit; he’d been in this room at least a million times, for this very reason.

‘i’m sorry,’ he started, causing you to furrow your brows.

‘i really am. i didn’t mean to stand you up, something was happening down at oscorp, and you know jay works there, so i-’

‘wait. you think i’m upset because you stood me up?’ you cut him off, with a tilt of your head.

‘yeah? i know you’d got us reservations, and i’m so sorry. i know it meant a lot to you, so i’ll make it up to you,’ he swore, a hint of confusion seeping into his eyes.

‘jake, i’m not upset about that. i know you have a duty to fulfill,’ you murmured, hand reaching to push back the sweaty strands of hair falling over his forehead, ‘it’s just, i’m always so worried. i know i’m being silly, but i’m scared for you. i don’t know what’s happening to you, or what you’re doing. is it so hard to tell me where you are?’ you asked, your voice slightly quivering.

‘no, i don’t like calling you. what if someone traces your number through my call records? i don’t want your safety to be compromised, but i guess that doesn't make sense, yeah? i mean, you’re always exposed to danger, because you’re close to me,’ he finished, with an awkward chuckle.

‘i chose to be with you, even though i knew about you being spiderman. it was my choice, so quit acting like a hero; like you’re responsible for me, all the damn time. i’m my own human,’ you spat, grabbing him by his cheeks, looking into his eyes.

a part of you knew, he could’ve stopped your hand if he wanted to, but he didn’t. he was trying to understand you, though it was hard for him. god, if only he knew how much you loved him.

‘okay,’ he said, slowly.

‘okay,’ you nodded, letting go of him, and you both maintained a comfortable silence, while you patched up his cuts.

‘what about my kiss?’ he complained, after a pause. it was (another) habit you had, kissing him after you were done helping him out.

‘you’ll get it. be patient, spider-boy.’

and, patient he was. sim jaeyun returned home as a happy man, with pink-colored smudges imprinted on his cheeks.

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arieslost · 2 days

Note

ok i don’t know if it’s just me who gets really giggly when it’s late at night but imagine laying in bed with lando and you’re just rambling about smth so stupid that it ends with you two just giggling at nothing. like getting full on stomach cramps from laughing but there wasn’t even anything funny to begin with

anon u and i are the SAME! once its past midnight i always end up becoming a victim of the late night sillies 💔

1:30 am | ln4

you knew you were up too late when you nearly tripped over the loose edge of the blanket you and lando had been sharing on your way back to the couch, and when he had caught you before you could hit your head or anything, you started laughing.

“oh, no,” he’d groaned dramatically. “got the late night giggles already, huh?”

“uh-uh,” you shook your head, even though him saying the words “late night giggles” was enough to make laughter start bubbling up in your throat again.

something always shifted in you when the clock struck a certain hour at night, and lando had only been witness to it a handful of times before you moved in together.

now, you’d managed to get through the rest of the movie the two of you were watching without laughing, even if it meant biting your lip hard and refusing to make eye contact with your boyfriend. it was bad enough feeling his eyes on you every time he wanted to see your reaction to something that happened on the tv. making eye contact would just take you out entirely for no reason whatsoever.

which is why you think you’ve successfully avoided making a fool of yourself when you’re both finally laying in bed with the lights out at the fine hour of 1:30 in the morning.

“you’re so far away,” lando grumbles, dragging your body into his so his one arm is around your shoulders and your face is nestled in his neck.

“better?” you ask, smiling when he shivers as your lips brush his skin.

“mhmm.” he’s quiet for a moment, running his fingers up and down your arm. “you’re gonna come to miami, right?”

“yeah, if you want me to.”

“what kind of question is that, babe?” he cranes his neck in a way that tells you he’s fixing you with a judgy look even though you can’t see each other.

you shrug, feeling the giggles building up again for no reason whatsoever. “i dunno.”

“obviously i want you there, why wouldn’t i?”

“i dunno,” you repeat. “it’s miami. maybe you just wanna party with all your homies.” and just like that, you’re laughing again.

“oh dear god, here we go,” he sighs, pressing his lips together to repress his own laughter as your body shakes against his. “my homies? when have i ever referred to any of my mates as my ‘homie’?”

he sounds so incredulous that you laugh even harder. “oh, you’re so british! i can’t call them your mates, lan. it sounds too weird.”

“so homies is the word you went with? why can’t you be normal and just say my friends?”

“why can’t you be normal and say your friends?” you shoot back, and that does lando in.

“it’s not funny,” he tries to admonish, and it’s entirely true, but it’s a moot point when you can barely understand him through his laughter.

“stop laughing then!”

“you stop!”

naturally, that makes you both laugh harder still, to the point where you have to roll away from him, clutching your stomach from how badly all the laughing is making it hurt.

“i can’t breathe,” lando gasps from behind you.

“stop laughing,” you repeat. “you’re killing me.”

“i think i’m dying,” he continues like he didn’t hear you, and he honestly might not have because your face is half shoved into your pillow in your attempts to stifle yourself.

a few more minutes go by of the two of you absolutely losing your minds before you’re finally able to catch your breath.

“ow,” you whine, holding your stomach. “i think i just grew a six pack.”

“i think mine just became ten times more defined,” lando says, voice raspy from all the exertion on his vocal chords.

“ooh, lemme feel.”

“absolutely not, because you’re going to tickle me,” he grabs your wrist out of thin air. “i know your tricks, baby. i’ve laughed more than enough tonight thanks to you.”

“not my fault you’re weird and british.”

“i love you,” he says sweetly, pulling you back towards him and kissing your forehead. “now’s where you say, ‘i love you too.’”

“i love you too,” you reply dutifully, blindly reaching for his face so you can kiss him properly. “even though you’re weird and british.”

he kisses you again. “i thought it was especially because i’m weird and british.”

you snuggle into his side, now thoroughly exhausted. “please don’t make me laugh more, lan.”

you both know he’s right, of course, but you usually need to have the last word, so he lets you get away with it. he does love you, after all, even though you had him in stitches over nothing at 1:30 in the morning.

word count: 790

masterlist — join my tag list here!

note: this was sooo self indulgent, like i was laughing as i wrote this because the term “homies” is so silly to me for some reason. also helped me test my dialogue skills!! n e wayz…

requests are OPEN, and my inbox is always open for comments, criticism, and conversation!

reblogs are greatly appreciated <33

dividers by @/saradika

tags: @venusacrossthestars @67-angelofthelordme-67 @emails-i-can-send @nelly187 @cixrosie @fangirl-dot-com @sainzluvrr @imheretoread @mellowarcadefun @yourbane @monsieurbacteria6 @c-losur3 @papayatori @ssprayberrythings @namgification @maih23 @evlkking @witchycarmen @ilovethispookie @maxverstappenfan79 @sya-skies @sweatrevenge5436-blog @kimis-gloves @mia-rrrs @decafmickey @customsbyjcg-blog @bigheartsthings @tania2748 @scuderiadevils @iloveyou3000morgan @ctrlyomomma @hiireadstuff @daemyratwst @arian-directioner @evelyn-ny @avg-golden-retriever @likedbygaslyy @vintagefucksstuff @piastorys @jisungstuff @personwhoisther @bernelflo

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okwonyo · 2 days

Text

when you secretly join their live.

엔하이픈 ୨୧ female reader six hundred requested! fluff established relationship + cw. repost not proof-read pet-names ( other )

heeseung would do an instant double take. approaching the phone close to his face to read the username that just ran through the screen. so much that the only thing fans would be able to see would be his eyes. would be cheesing extremely hard, after he made sure that it was you, staying silent for a while as he reads your comments. “you are cute..” he would read, nose becoming red-ish, “ah~ i know you are much cuter, baby,”

jay would play it off as the good professional as he is. would read all your comments while holding his new guitar, that you gifted to him as a birthday present, close to his heart. his eyes would scrunch and a shy smile would appear on his face every time you compliment his look. you would say something along the lines of ‘play my favorite song, please’ and he would do it. as he would play, he would realize that he misses you. so he would find an excuse to end the live and come see you.

jake would be well too invested in his rambling to even notice your presence, at first. you would have to wait for him to make a quick pause to look at the comments for him to notice your presence. the fact that there is people watching other than you, would fly all the way above his head after a while. giggling and biting his lip, per usual, whenever you would leave a remotely flirty comment. would barely be able to respond by something else than “stop..” as he would look away and chuckle nervously.

sunghoon would notice you right away. you would join during those moments where he is just staring at the camera without saying anything. would absentmindedly fix his posture, and his hair as well. would be so happy when you comment that he looks cute, given the fact that you were the one who told him he would look great with that look. oo~ thank you,” he would grin. “i hoped you would like it”

sunoo would, with a noticeable fondness in his voice, be talking about you a few minutes before you join the live. would say that you are one of his friends, though, to keep it a bit secret and mysterious. you would comment ‘is a friend all i am to you ? hahaha ><’ and he would be a bit confused about the comment, would even read it out loud. his hand would fly to his mouth after he would realize who you are. a couple of laughter after, he would go back to telling the story with a cute smile.

jungwon would so surprised to see your secret username here. would be casually reading the comments and stop suddenly. “don’t eat while you lay in bed, you’ll get sick,” you would comment and he would read for everyone to hear. “i do what-” he would start replying and cut himself off when the realization hits. his demeanor would change instantly, “mhh.. it’s okay, right ? you’ll take care of me, hehe” with a cute smile, just to tease you.

riki would be the type to answer to your message while he is on live, because he doesn’t like leaving you on delivered. so, he would respond to you when you ask him if he is having a live right now. you would watch the live without saying much at first, just admiring your pretty boyfriend. would become all red in the face and shy when you comment about it. he would not know that it is you by your secret account’s username but most definitely by the nickname only you can call him.

this was so fun to write ～ all the credit and thanks to pupu and tamie for the idea ! ♡

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caxde · 3 days

Text

lovingsomeone | steddie x reader

summary: Eddie's got a crush on you, Steve's got a crush on you, and you're not sure who you like. A school dance and a summer party help you figure things out. (9.3k)(srry i got carried away)

warnings: smut! 18+ mdni use of alcohol and weed, afab reader, p in v sex, masturbation, oral sex and overall teenage horniness. Steve being overconfident and Eddie being a nervous wreck.

a/n: I did a first part to it answering a request and kept writing, so i put it all together! enjoy<3 english is not my first language!

“So, will you actually say something to her this time?” Robin teased Eddie for the hundredth time.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He snapped back, shaking his head as he overly enunciated every word, trying desperately to not blush at the thought of you.

“Sure you don’t.” She breathed out, pushing her head back.

Robin had always been preceptive, even more so when it came to her best friends. Maybe that’s why Robin had no problem when it came time to figure out what was going on.

She was the first -and maybe only one- to catch Eddie’s lips opening, the clenched fists, the way he always tried to make you laugh or how he looked fastly over at you everytime something funny happened, just so he could see you smile.

It wasn’t long after when she clocked Steve doing something similar. Steve would always fix his hair before talking to you, he took a step closer than he had to when he was talking to you, his hand lingered when he passed something to you. Most importantly, Steve was a big flirt, and Robin could tell it was working.

She still was unsure about you.

She had caught you looking at Eddie when he was deep into a story, your eyelids half closed, as if you were daydreaming about him, and she was sure she had seen you bite your lower lip after looking at his neck.

But today you had called Steve an idiot with a dumb smile, a playful touch to his chest that had left your cheeks with a pinkish hue, only made worse when Steve grabbed your hand so he could make you twirl to the sound of the music emanating from his car before he left when he dropped you both off.

Robin was now sitting outside the car park, with an Eddie who was lost into you.

Eddie couldn’t keep his eyes off of you, and the way your hair moved as you walked closer to them.

“You’re doing okay?” She asked with an eyebrow raised, as she schotched over so you’d sit next to her as you always did.

Eddie didn’t even look up, he just grabbed the chocolate bar he had in his pocket, for exactly that reason, handing it over to you.

“You don’t have to.” Your voice came out all shy, a soft smile as you looked at the colorufull wrapper that laid right in his hands.

“I know.” Eddie muttered, nodding his head at you, the usual grin he had only for you appearing on his face.

“Thanks Eds.” You managed to say, grabbing it and biting it.

Robin rolled her eyes as soon as she saw Eddie focusing on the way your lips opened, stifling a laugh as she shook her head. Both of you are oblivious to the way the other feels.

“Are we still going to the dance tonight?” You asked, breaking the small moment of silence that had formed.

“Is it tonight?” Eddie asked, his usual teasing tone in his voice every time this topic came up.

“Yes…” You squinted your eyes at him, knowing he’d smile as soon as he saw you.

“Yeah, we’ll be here.” Robin confirmed, standing up from the little curbside she had settled into. “Can you give me a ride, Eds?” She asked, tussing her hair in the middle of the question.

“Uh, sure. D’you need a ride, dove?” Eddie was embarrassed as soon as he muttered the nickname he tried, recomforted by the way you seemed to be pleased by it.

“I think Steve’s picking me up.” You felt a bit guilty saying it, made worse by Eddie pressing his lips together, followed by a short nod as he went to find his van.

“Okay, what’s the deal?” Robin had had enough of playing detective. She needed to know what was going through your mind.

“What do you mean?” You scrunch your nose, not really wanting to know if she was asking what you thought she meant.

“Oh come on! Eddie’s got a crush on you, Steve has a crush on you, you..?” She left the question open, wanting you to finish it with an answer, instead you got all flustered, standing up straight in a fast motion, trying to make sense of what she had just said.

“Eddie doesn’t have a crush on me! Neither does Steve, he’s just being nice… And I just, they’re both…”

“Hot?”

“Shut up…” You punched her on her shoulder, a giggle escaping both of your lips. “They both treat me so well, and they’re kind and yeah… they’re hot.”

Robin couldn’t help but laugh, and neither could you, it only made it worse when Robin suggested that if you played your cards right, you might see Paris.

It continued until Steve’s car stopped next to you.

Steve stepped out, fixing his hair in a movement that made you wish you could be the one fixing it. His other hand held a small gathering of wild flowers, with pink carnations sticking out of them. Robin's mouth opened wide, as she saw how Steve moved closer to you, looking nervous.

“Hi.” You chirped, as soon as he stood right in front of you, his feet almost touching yours.

“Hi.” He stuttered a bit, his nervous energy made evident. He gave a quick glance at Robin, who just nodded, stepping back a bit. “I uh… I know this might be cheesy but, these are for you–” He stopped talking when your fingers brushed his, the same feeling he always had invading your body. An electricity, a warmness that was hard to explain.

“They are lovely… Why…?” The sweetest tone that could be heard as a melody came out of your lips, and Steve could live in it for an eternity.

“I… I kinnda wanna take you to the dance, if you’re okay with it.” He begged, a faint trace on it on his tone, as he stepped a bit closer, your feet between his opened legs. His eyes locked into yours, you were a goner as soon as you looked at him and the way his lips curved a bit more on the right than they did on the left.

“Like a date?” You echoed, a glimpse of hope evident enough that his teeth were now showing when he smiled as he nodded. “I’d love to.”

Steve caressed your cheek as he reached to hold your hand, walking you to his car as he opened the door for you, he was still going to drive you home.

Unlucky for Eddie, he had seen the whole thing, and Robin said nothing, just waited for him to start the car.

You and Robin were supposed to get picked up by Steve, who was supposed to pick Eddie up.

It did happen, only that the tension in the car between both boys could be felt, even from outside and with the windows rolled up.

No music was playing on the radio, Steve was grabbing the steering wheel a bit harder than he needed to -his knuckles turning white- whilst Eddie kept playing with his index finger, one swipe left, two swipes right.

Eddie wanted to talk, to ask Steve is he was serious about it, but the smell of aftershave was intoxicating enough to confirm he was.

As soon as the car stopped, Eddie looked at the wooden doors of Robin’s house, and the way Steve walked them up with such confidence -even if he was just faking it, he was nervous about it all going well, so much so he hadn’t even realised he drove over with no music on- he left a knock on the door, for it to open shortly after.

You were truly breathtaking.

Red had never looked that good. The dress hugged your chest, a flowy skirt dropping from your waist, your arms decorated with the same red colour as what looked like a scarf fell from them. Your hair was out of your face, your eyes shined a bit more, your lips looked pinker, juicier. He was losing his mind.

It only hurt a bit more when he realised he had his hand out, waiting for yours to fit in it, but you moved past him, accepting Steve’s instead, as he twirled you around, praising you, telling you just how good you looked. A shower of compliments Eddie was also thinking, but couldn’t articulate. He just stared at the floor, only looking up when he felt Robin’s touch on his shoulder, a look of compassion held between the both of them.

Nobody would blame you, or the hyperfixation you had all of a sudden with the way Steve’s neck looked, the red tie wrapping around it, contrasting with the white shirt. What was worse, you had never realised just how many moles and freckles Steve’s skin had, the one that laid where his jaw met his neck was particularly driving you insane. You danced the night away, mostly it was the four of you in a little circle, chatting and drinking whatever was inside the punch. Steve’s hands only found your waist when a slow song played. His thumbs grabbed you a bit too hard, in a way that he knew immediately why you bit your lower lip, and in response your hands were behind his neck, your nails tracing a patron in his skin, tugging his hair slightly. He grinned, chuckled and made you laugh, his eyes shining, looking at yours. You had never seen such beauty in brown until now.

Maybe you did like Steve, and maybe he did like you.

Eddie went outside. As soon as he saw you biting your lip, his hands on your waist, yours in his hair, he needed some air.

He wished it were him. He wasn’t as fancy as Steve was, he had a white shirt under his uncle's old muted brown shirt. He struggled to remember in which pocket he put the Marlboro's away. He had been fidgeting with his lighter for a while, needing, craving a moment of silence.

He was almost done smoking as he felt sorry for himself, when he heard the doors opening, the sudden music became clear for those brief seconds.

He turned around, seeing you walking towards him with the biggest smile he had seen in your face for a while.

For a brief moment, he forgot he was hurt.

“You do look beautiful Moon” You told him as soon as you reached him, your body next to his, snatching the half smoked cigarette that he had in between his fingers.

He scoffed, turning his whole body to look at you, he saw the way you smiled up at him, you were being sincere which was only just as hurting as you dancing with him had been.

“Beautiful?” He questioned, a slight teasing on his tone as he inched closer, breathing in the smoke you let out, stealing the cigarette back.

“Yeah, beautiful handsome Eddie.” You uttered, the faint smell of alcohol left your mouth, Eddie scrunch his nose.

“You’re drunk?”

“No, only had one drink. But you’ve been moody, I miss you in there.” You chirped back, your usual playful tone didn’t make him smile, not even grin. You got worried right there and then. Your hand reaching for his, trying to pull him back into the party.

“I’m sure you’ll have a great time.” He implied, nodding at Steve who was just now opening the door, looking for you with a lovesick grin on his face.

“What’s going on?” You weren’t sure what you had done to leave him in such a state, he seemed hurt, his words colder than they had even been.

“Nothing.” Eddie lied, you hated lies.

Something in you clicked, as you saw the way Steve smiled you, a contradiction to Eddie’s pursed lips as his jawline looked sharper than it ever did.

Robin’s words echoed in your head Eddie’s got a crush on you, Steve’s got a crush on you.

“Well, next time have the courage to ask me out before someone else does…” You snapped back, your arms crossing over your chest, a protective stance taking hold of you as you stepped back.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He shook his head, his hair brushing against his face, an apologetic look on his eyes that made you want to cry.

“It means don’t just suppose nobody will want me, am I supposed to wait for you forever?”

Eddie couldn’t quite believe that declaration, knowing now you might also have some feeling for him, but he was a little too late. You sniffled your nose, shaking your head, your hair flowing everywhere. “Forget it.” You declared, leaving the little bubble you were in.

You walked over to Steve, and he just looked at you, the smile he had turned as soon as he saw the way your eyes were crystalizing, menacing with tears. He cupped your cheeks with his hands.

You gave in, your body hitting his, Eddie just saw the way your shoulders moved up and down.

You were crying now.

“Honey…” Steve begged as he took you in his arms. “Do you want to leave?”

“I’m sorry.” You whispered back, feeling warmer in his arms, the coldness of Eddie’s words brushing away with the closeness of Steve’s body.

“Don’t be. We can go anywhere you want. As long as I’m with you I’m happy.” He blurted, his eyes looking at yours, his thumbs brushing out the tear that came out of them.

“Are you sure?”

“‘curse I am.” He added, a smile returning to his lips, before he kissed the crown of your head. “I can also drop you off.” He offered, you shook you head.

“I don’t wanna be alone.” You answered, your voice still barely above a whisper.

“That’s fine, you wanna go for a walk?” He replayed instead, taking your hand, intertwining your fingers with his.

As soon as you nodded he started walking. He didn’t push for you to talk, he didn’t try to make assumptions, but of course he did.

The last he had seen was you talking with Eddie. Steve had always thought that Eddie was beautiful, he had a magnetic pull with people that was hard to explain, and he also knew that Eddie was sharp with his words. So he gave you enough time to gather your thoughts.

“I do like you…” You confessed, your tone remaining low and soft as you spoke, looking at the ground, not confident enough to look at him right now.

“I like you too.” He gleamed with pride, though he thought that much was obvious.

“I… I figured that out with the flowers.” You recalled, as a shiver from the cold air made you shake a bit.

Steve wasted no second, his tuxedo jacket laying on your shoulders now.

“The flowers gave me away?” He teased, a short chuckle in the back of his throat. “It wasn’t my constant offer to drive you anywhere?” He admitted with a defeated laugh.

“I thought you were being nice.” You admitted, still not looking at him, much more interested in the way your shoe made contact with the ground beneath your feet.

“I was. I also have this crush on you.” The word sended shivers down your spine.

“Robin says Eddie also has a crush on me.” That when you looked up, seeing a defeated nod from Steve only confirmed it. “I… I don’t know what to do.”

“I don’t wanna tell you what to do, but… while you figure it out, can I defend my case?” He pleaded, his waist bumping into yours, his finger under your chin. He was being brave, he was finally taking his chance.

As soon as you nodded, and your lips parted, your eyes darting between his eyes and his lips, a neediness that became clear as you realised what was about to happen, Steve got closer. Close enough to breathe the same air as you, his mouth a whisper away from yours, enjoying that tension that had formulated in the air. He was enjoying that bit of power, feeling how bad you wanted him. You were the one to finally close the distance, and he was ecstatic about it. He took his time, his lips moving gracefully against yours, your hands tugging the back of his neck, one of his was lost in the space between your neck and your jawline, applying a pressure that made you moan against his lips, thought maybe that was due to the way his other hand was grabbing your waist, his fingers would leave a mark, that much was clear.

As soon as you break off the kiss, the lovesick smile on both of your faces was evident.

“That was…” He muttered, left speechless by your kisses, needing more of them.

“You are a good kisser.” You slightly teased him back, recalling the rumors about him in a joyful manner.

He kissed you a lot more after that, having to stop walking in the middle of the road as you went to find his car.

Robin saw it, and decided it was best if she kept her mouth shut this time, but she did overhear the last thing Steve whispered to you before going back into the car. “I don’t mind sharing, you can figure out whatever you need, honey.”

She already saw the headache coming, and really regretted that Eddie didn’t see the way your cheeks flustered at the idea of being with him for a while.

2.9

“Babe, can you help me?” You cried out, the sun hitting you a bit too hard, you started to feel your skin burning if you weren’t careful.

“Sure, be with you in a second.” Steve adds, gleaming at the sound of your voice calling him such a pretty nickname. Him and Robin were a bit busy, stacking the small cooler with every kind of beer and seltzer they could name, topping it with ice so it would stay cold during the hot summer’s day. The first of many to come.

The pool had been officially opened, and with that, the usual invasion of the Harrington household started. This year however, Steve decided to throw a little party, so it wouldn’t be a surprise gathering at his house.

Robin still hadn’t said anything about what she heard at prom, and she intended to keep it that way, she was having fun watching, as you struggled to operate.

Steve came over, sitting behind you, a little kiss on your shoulder letting you know he was all yours for now. You passed him the sunscreen, it smelt like coconut and vanilla, as he spread it on your back and shoulders, he took the opportunity to be a bit more handsy than he needed to. He started massaging your back, knowing the effect it had on you, as he heard the stifled groan on the back of your throat, quiet enough that he’d be the only one to hear it. Once he reached the lower part of your back, he spent way too much time in it, tracing patterns that had no meaning besides getting your body closer, and closer to his crotch, moving you a bit so you’d feel the way it grew against your butt cheeks. You looked back at him, over your shoulder, to see him smiling, that stupid smile that let you know just how much he wanted you, now and everyday. You shook your head, laying on his chest with enough mischievousness to let your cheeks hold his bulge between them, you felt him breathe out in a needy manner, right against your cheek. He gave you a kiss on your lips, his hand now caressing your stomach, fully visible thanks to the white bikini you chose to wear.

“Not while we have company, Harrington.” You whispered into his ear once his lips parted from yours. He groaned, deciding to just hold you tightly, his head buried where your neck met your shoulder, leaving wet kisses in that spot he knew you liked.

“I told you… I don’t mind sharing.” He recalled the conversation you had about your curly haired friend he knew you had a crush on, even if you evidently liked him.

“Shush.” You dismissed him, holding his face near yours, a kiss left on his lips, as you bit his lower one. “Let’s just stay here until the others come?” You pleaded, not wanting to think about it, not really ready to think about Eddie coming here right now.

He answered with another kiss against your sun kissed skin, decidedly staying like this. Enjoying each other’s presence, soft touches and caresses.

The last few weeks with Steve had been amazing, but Eddie had grown cold as soon as he heard that you seemingly had made your choice, even if you were far from it.

Steve's words didn’t help.

In your mind, Steve seemed excited with the idea of you making out, or whatever it was with his friend, as long as you kept doing it with him. It was a dangling temptation, a dream, a forbidden fruit that had all of a sudden become edible.

You weren’t sure how much time had passed, you just knew Steve’s fingers were too busy tracing little drawings on your lower stomach, dangerously close to the edge of the thong that was part of your two piece. When all of a sudden your eyes opened from the noise that was coming out of the house. Eddie had arrived, accompanied by Nancy and Jonathan. The couple came out first.

“Hey lovebugs!” Nancy screamed, her usual upbeat tone making Steve open his eyes, he waved back, you did the same movement, which made her chuckle.

Eddie followed them closely, even in such warm weather, he still had his blue jeans on, only this time his white tank top let his arms out on the sun, you got lost in him for just a second.

Eddie avoided your stare, got lost in your body instead. Robin clocked the way he swallowed, his muscles in his neck tensing as he tried not to look too much. It was hard, since he knew he could be the one holding you as near as he desired.

Jonathan grabbed two beers, and offered one to Eddie, he felt compassion for him, just like Robin, he was used to being observant, and had known about Eddie’s feelings for a while, and he had been in the same situation, only he had a bit more luck.

The moment came where you decided to finally jump into the water, all of your friends deciding they wanted to stay dry, watching you as you floated in the pool.

You were pretty good at knowing who was staring, even if they had the same coloured eyes, Eddie’s and Steve’s staring felt different. Eddie’s was full of regret, he had wanted to talk to you ever since you left the dance, Steve’s was full of hunger -at least while you looked like that, skin wet, and your hair framing your face in a way he’d call heavenly if asked.- though if you were honest, you felt a trace of desire in Eddie’s eyes everytime yours met.

Robin had enough of that show, and even if she promised to herself she wouldn’t say anything, she needed to talk to someone, so she did.

“Nance, can you help me get some wine?” She asked, a lift of the eyebrow and she understood she needed to speak to her.

“Sure.” She added before following her into the house.

Eddie and Jonathan stayed there, grinding some weed for later. Steve looked at them, and stood up, walking to the edge of the pool, sitting on it, waiting for you to come.

Robin started rumbling as soon as they reached the kitchen.

“I need to tell you something, but you can’t say anything. But if I don’t tell it to someone I’m gonna lose my mind” She was talking in a fast-paced manner that let Nancy know just how much she had been needing to talk.

“Jesus okay. Breathe.” She said, pushing her shoulders down. “Now, shoot.”

“I overhead the new couple at the prom.” She started, waiting for a nod from Nancy so she could continue. “Steve told her that he knows about Eddie’s feelings, and that he’s okay sharing? What does that even mean? Has he ever said something like that to you? Do you think… Maybe Steve wants to…?”

Nancy’s eyes opened wide, at the amount of information and preceding questions she asked, her head working overtime to keep up with her friend.

“He’s okay sharing as in…”

“I think he wants her to make a move or something, so she can know for sure she wants to be with him but that’s just…” She didn’t dare to finish the sentence, not without implying something she’d hate for people to imply about herself.

“Steve really has changed.” Nancy over enunciated, raising her eyebrows as she looked over for the wine. Robin erupted in laughter.

“What do you think I should do?” She implored now, stepping in closer to her, grabbing some glasses for the white wine.

“You? Nothing. I’m sure Eddie’ll catch on soon enough.” She pointed out, as she started to head out. “He’s practically drooling everytime she looks at her.” She joked as Robin chuckled, following her closely.

At the same time, Jonathan looked at Eddie, and how concentrated he was on grinding the weed so he could smoke it. He knew Eddie was feeling a bit overwhelmed, and he knew how much it could help, so he stayed put, waiting for him to finish.

“Look dude, I don’t really know you that much but uh… You’ve got something in your mind.. If you need to uh.. talk it out…” He offered, feeling incredibly embarrassed by that leap he was making, knowing Eddie had the right to blow him off.

He didn’t. He looked up, nodding with a half smile as he mouthed a thanks. He looked over at Steve walking closer to you and the sense of urgency came back.

“Pass me the paper, please?” He babbled, as his hand reached out. Grabbing it and starting to roll what would -hopefully- calm him down. “I just… I fucked it up.” He added, nodding at you, and the way you smiled as soon as you saw Steve.

“Why’d you say that?”

“She told me if she was supposed to wait for me forever, next thing I know, she’s kissing Steve.” He sputtered, a trace of hurt could still be felt on his voice. Jonathan gave him a reassuring touch on his shoulder.

“That’s Steve… Though to be fair… You shouldn’t lose hope.” He recomforted him, looking at Nancy as she came back, a smile on his face.

Talking of Steve he found his way to you. His legs on the water, moving it slightly, the waves hitting your body. You looked over at him, a smile wide on his face.

You swam closer to him, instead of laying against the granite that circled the pool, you let your arms rest on his thigh, looking up at him with dreamy eyes.

“Hi.” You beamed at him, the softness of your tone made him get even more lost into you.

“Hi.” He echoed, one of his hands cupping your cheek, you gave in to the touch. “You should get out, Nancy went to get your favourite wine.” You smiled deeply at him, he really did care for you.

“Going.” You whisper as you find your way to the stairs, pushing your head down one last time, so the hair wouldn’t annoy you.

Eddie caught that. And the way you walked out of the pool was enough for his cock to push against his zipper. He crossed his legs, enjoying the show a bit more, as he lit the joint he had been preparing. He got a bit lost, especially on the way your hair not only framed your face, but your breasts, that seemed to shine as water dropped out of them. It didn’t help that you were wearing white, he was going to lose his mind.

Only this time, Steve caught him, a cheeky grin appearing on his face as he made eye contact with Eddie, who became flustered. Steve just nodded, and mouthed its fine. Eddie had never been more confused.

“We’ve got your wine!” Robin cheered, as she raised a glass to you. You took a good sip of it, the lightness of it invading your mouth, a smile left on your lips.

“Cheers.” You added, taking another taste. “I’ll just go change really quick.”You excused yourself, bending down a bit so you could put your drink down. It was torture for Eddie, who was trying extremely hard not to be too evident, but right now he just felt you were starting to tease him, bending over when that little fabric was covering you.

Maybe you were.

It was intoxicating, knowing that you did have that power over both of them. While Eddie was a bit too lost in your behind, Steve got lost in your chest, even if he was more taken aback with the eye contact you liked to keep. You walked slowly back into the house, up the stairs to the left where Steve’s room was. You grabbed one of his oversized white shirts, and a pair of faded, soft, basketball shorts that were too short on him, yet perfect for you. You found your way to the downstairs bathroom, knowing that you could hang your bikini there until it dries off, and that no one would really know -or care- if you were wearing underwear or not.

You left the door ajar, it would only take a moment.

The top part was changed in a swift movement, so was the down one.

You looked at yourself in the mirror, your hair becoming a tangled mess, it would only get worse if you didn’t brush it off soon. You looked for one, something, anything, unsuccessfully.

The door opened all of a sudden. Eddie was there, an apologetic look on his face.

“Sorry, thought nobody was here.” He pleaded, as he started to close the wooden door.

“It’s fine, I’m just looking for a hairbrush, then I’ll leave.” You tried to explain to him, not really wanting him to leave, fully aware that those were the first words you’ve exchanged.

“You won’t reach it.” Eddie mumbled, walking back in. He closed the door, and opened the cabinet that was higher up, grabbing a little box that had various different combs on it. He grabbed the one that was better for your hair and looked at you. “D’you want me to…?” He gestured with his hands, up and down, a brushing motion.

You nodded, your back now facing him, as you looked at your reflection in the mirror. Eddie looked back at you, your eyes meeting on the reflective surface. He pursed his lips, the high made everything feel ten times more intense. It was intoxicating enough being near you, getting to be this close to you made it hard for him to concentrate.

You kept looking at him, and every move he made, the tension that was getting created in that little space growing larger and larger. A sense of electricity, of magnetism pulling you in closer, close enough that your waist touched his. He breathed out loudly, knowing this was getting a bit too much. But the small tugging in his pants only made your lip quiver with more confidence, he wanted this just as much as you did. You got on your tip-toes for a moment, just to go slowly down, your butt graceing his crotch slowly. You could see the way his eyes shut down for that moment, how his mouth opened, how his hands grabbed your hair and the brush harder, trying not to say anything. It was intoxicating. He finished brushing your hair, and he let the comb hit the floor. You made eye contact through the mirror once again, as he breathed in that loud manner again, shaking his head at you, struggling to let something out of his lips.

“Dove… I…” He tried, your hands already on the back of his neck, pushing him in against you, you needed to feel him, as near as you could.

“I do like you.” You confessed in between whispers, your fingers tugging his hair. “I just… I’m confused.” You admitted, your hips had started a little pattern, grinding against his crotch. A needines was beating on your chest, traveling all the way down to where you made contact with him.

“Fuck…” And with that you knew what was coming.

Eddie let out a moan out of hornyness and anger. He had wanted you for so long, he would be an idiot if he didn’t at least give you a kiss.

Just one kiss, he told himself.

His hands grabbed your waist tightly, turning you so you’d finally look at his eyes, not at a mirror, the brown of them almost gone, a hunger you were experiencing just as much as he was. Even if he was dying for more, he started kissing your cheek, a trembling hand grabbing your butt, messaging it, your leg lifting on instinct, pushing his crotch with yours, the feeling of the zipper messing with you, the soft fabric not protecting you much. He kept kissing your neck, and the little zone behind your ear, leaving soft moans every time his mouth left your skin. Once you were drunk on him, he cupped your face with one hand, the other still holding your butt firmly, and finally let your lips touch. You became one in that moment, your waist still moving, your hands scratching his back in an attempt to obtain more. You needed to drink every single drop of him. His hand started teasing at your behind, a smile when he noticed the lack of underwear, and just how sensitive you were. If he pushed the short upwards, the fabric touched you in a way that made you whimper.

It wasn’t fair, you also deserved to play.

Your hands left his back, travelled to his crotch, undoing the belt in a swift movement. The sound of the belt buckle made him snap back.

That was more than one kiss.

“We can’t…” He said, pulling strength from somewhere, he wasn’t sure where.

“Steve doesn’t mind.” You tried to make him understand, unsuccessfully.

“If I was him, I would want you all to myself.”

The sun was setting, Nancy was half asleep into Jonathan’s arms, Robin was a bit too inebriated, laughing at every small detail she saw.

It wasn’t difficult.

When you came out of the bathroom, a flustered Eddie followed you minutes after. Steve looked at you with a puzzled look, and you just nodded.

Now you were sitting between them both.

Jonathan looked at Steve’s grip on your thigh, while your pinky was grabbing Eddie’s. He opened his eyes as soon as he understood. He gave Eddie a quick look, he just nodded in quiet disbelief.

“I think we should go.” Jonathan said in a soft-spoken voice, brushing Nancy’s hair.

“I’m way too wasted to drive.” Eddie muttered in response, a cheap excuse everyone noticed. He wasn’t ready to leave.

Jonathan offered his hand, Eddie’s van keys fell onto his palm.

“Okay then, we’ll go.” He stood up, helping Nancy up, gesturing to Robin to follow him. She looked back at the three of you, she struggled to hide a chuckle.

“Fine… au revouir!” She teased as soon as she looked at you, your cheeks getting that pinkish tone to them again. You hid your face behind your palm, begging she was the only one out of them that understood the stupid joke. The shocked giggle out of Steve’s lips let you know he got it too.

“I’ll walk with you to the door.” Steve added, off-handedly. As soon as he stood up and took a couple of steps, he looked at you over his shoulder, the prettiest smile on his face.

It was a do whatever you need, a i want you to do it, a please do it.

The type of look that drove you insane.

Eddie lit up another spliff, standing up, your eyes looking up at him, all doe-like. If only you could read his mind, he thought.

“I think I’ll go for a swim.” You were unsure if it was an invitation, or if he just needed some space, a moment to think it all well.

Truth be told, Eddie was curious about what you’d do now, once he took his shirt off, careful not to burn anything, smoke still coming out of his mouth, a delightful picture you would keep in your mind for a long time.

You hadn’t seen him shirtless.

It was a sight to see, you thought. You knew he had muscles, you didn’t know his were somehow more defined than Steve’s. His chest was pale, decorated with ink, your fingers suddenly tingling the urge to trace over them, especially the one he had near his hip bone.

Eddie enjoyed seeing you like that, for once you were the one thirsting over his body, your mouth half opened, having trouble taking your eyes off his chest, while yours all of a sudden raised faster. Your breathing quickening.

His back was also well defined, framed by his hair swinging a bit with every step he took, his curls bouncing in an hypnotizing manner.

He sat down on the steps of the swimming pool, his waist submerged in the water. He smiled as soon as he heard your cautious steps approaching him. You sat near him, your body not in the water, only your legs, looking at his side profile. You could draw him from memory alone, you realised. He didn’t say anything, he just looked at you, his usual grin that always made you smile back. He offered the joint to you, you shook your head, a drink still in your hand.

“We’re swimming?” Steve proposed at the sight of you two, already taking his shirt off.

Before any of you could answer, he had already jumped into the water, swimming back in the middle of you, taking the offer of the spliff Eddie had in between his fingers with a shrug.

“I’m not wearing uh…” Your eyes darted nervously at Eddie, and the memory of his fingers discovering it just a few minutes ago. He did the same, his hand twitching as he made eye contact with you.

“I’m sure Eddie won’t care.” He assured, his tone dropping a bit. The husky tone hypnotising you. Steve looked at the curly headed boy waiting for a response. He just scratched his chin, looking back at you, his eyelids half closed. “See, he doesn’t.” He gestured back at him, getting a bit closer to you. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to” He whispered, needing you to know he meant it, the softness of his words made you know he was telling the truth.

As soon as you felt Steve’s hand on your thigh, and how good the water droplets falling from them felt on your skin, you opened your legs, letting him gain access, his hands finding the hem of your shorts rapidly, pulling them down softly.

Eddie was hypnotised by it. The way your legs looked, the look of devotion you had for Steve, how confident you seemed, the shy soft smile in your face as you were enjoying his touch against your skin as the shorts became a faint memory. He looked attentive as Steve’s hands reached the end of your shirt, how his lips kissed your knee, eyes closed, how a soft moan escaped your lips. He felt himself grow, no longer restricted by his jeans. The spliff long forgotten by your side, his full attention in how more parts of you were revealed, as Steve slowly took your shirt off. The first thing he saw was the curvature of your back, your stomach following it closely. When he saw your breasts under the sunset, he realised he had never been as hard. You shook your head as soon as the shirt was off, your hair flowing freely. Your hand caressing Steve’s face, inching closer to him, leaving a sound kiss on his lips. He was trying to repress the urge he had of touching himself, it felt like he was looking at a private show, just for him.

Steve helped you into the water, his hands holding tightly onto your waist, pulling you in slowly. Enjoying the sound you made as water hitted your full body. He had only eyes for you. His nose touched yours, asking for permission to kiss you once again, his bare chest hitting yours, you were the one who broke the distance, pushing into him with the usual care. Steve’s lips were soft, fitted with yours perfectly, you thought.

Eddie couldn’t take it anymore. He had to touch himself. It was pathetic, he thought, you were making out in front of him, and he needed to touch himself, feeling like if he didn’t take it out, it would just start to hurt, so he did. He grabbed the waistband of his swimsuit down, already stroking his dick in a slow movement, when all of a sudden, you made eye contact with him, while you were still kissing Steve. You broke the kiss, yet Steve kept kissing your neck, one of his hands already on the small of your back, pushing your entrance to his erection. You moaned at the sight of him, and Eddie’s movements deepened.

“You wanna kiss her?” Steve asked as soon as he opened his eyes, seeing the way Eddie looked at you, his cock still out. “Come.” He invited him, with a quick shake of his head. “She really wants you to do so, Munson.” That did it for him, that and the fact that you moaned as soon as you heard his last name, though maybe that had more to do with the way Steve’s fingers were teasing you now.

He didn’t really waste that much time, he took off his swimsuit before coming into the water, not caring about anything else but the way your eyes looked at him, needing him. You felt his dick on your stomach, the hardness of it coming into contact with you thanks to the short distance. Eddie’s hands didn’t shake now, he was decided. They held your face, coping your cheeks in the way he had hoped to do so for so long, breaking the distance, as your lips found each other. Your tongues touching, finally, both of you thought, as your hands reached for his body, as did his.

Steve was still enjoying himself, touching you, feeling how you squirm under his touch, your legs shaking a bit as he kept teasing, your clit missing him everytime he messed around.

Eddie couldn’t stop kissing you, he was enjoying it maybe a bit much. He had never tasted something better, and he never wanted to. He wished in between kisses to remember this sensation forever, your hands on his body, fingers buried deep into his skin, begging for more as you moaned into his mouth.

Your hands were dangerously low, but it didn’t matter.

A sharp gasp escaped your lips as you felt Steve’s fingers reaching inside you, moving them slowly, each movement deeper than the last.

“Please.” You begged, looking up at Steve, his hand reaching for your neck, leaving a thigh squeez before he kissed your cheek. “Please.” You whimpered again, looking outside the pool.

Eddie understood, and followed closely. Steve pushed your body up, you were now sitting on the stone that circled the pool, your body slowly hitted the ground, legs hanging from the edge, grabbing Eddie’s hand so you’d have him near, your hand started messing with his pelvic bone, a few brushes, caresses and he was already doing that loud breathing that proved to drive you insane.

Steve didn’t waste no time, grabbing the back of your legs, pushing your body closer to the edge, leaving kisses on your knee, then your upper thigh, the inside of it, everywhere his lips had access to, while his hand got a bit busy feeling you, and the wetness of your entrance.

Eddie brushed your hair behind your ear, before diving in for a kiss, his lips touching yours, just so he could have an excuse to start kissing your neck, hearing you make such pretty noises that close to his ear was something he never thought he would be able to. To be fair, he moaned as soon as your hand wrapped around his dick, starting the slow movement, he smiled in between kisses as you kept it going.

The combination of it all; Eddie moaning your name that close to your ear, your whole body filled with goosebumps, as Steve started kissing your clit, it made you arch your back.

“You’re sensitive today.” Steve teased, as his lips went back to the spot that was driving you mad, one of his fingers starting to make his way inside you, you felt him smile as he heard you moan at that.

“Jesus sweetheart…” Eddie breathed out, a groan escaping the back of his throat, his voice was the lowest you had ever heard. “If you keep touching me like that, making those sounds…” He couldn’t even finish the sentence.

He saw the way you smiled proudly at the praise, your teeth biting your lower lip, while you breathed heavily, he had to kiss you again, that way he knew you’d be moaning into eachothers’ mouths.

Once Steve had three fingers inside you, his movements finding the perfect pace, his mouth all over you, legs shaking while his head was in between he could tell you were close, Eddie’s hands stroking your body helping in that. Speaking of, he looked at him, he could also tell he was trying not to come, not yet. He stopped eating you out, his head resting on your tight.

“You wanna…?” He asked you first, nodding to him. He could tell you did, just by the way your eyes shined as soon as he asked, he had to hide a giggle once he looked at Eddie who was concentrating on something else.

“Edds” You begged, moaning his name. It made him tilt his head backwards a bit, your hand still tightly wrapped around his dick. “Can you fuck me?” He had to bite the inside of his lips so he wouldn't come right then. His hands grabbing your legs, turning your body to him, so your entrance would be at his level was enough confirmation. Before Eddie started, while he was admiring you in all your glory, you looked deep into Steve’s eyes, your hand finally dropping his swimsuit, stroking him. A hunger in your eyes before you asked “Can I?”

He nodded.

Then he looked around, knowing that it would be more comfortable for you if you were on the couch.

“Inside.” He groaned, looking at you first, then turning to Eddie.

Before you knew it, Eddie was sitting on the couch, too much in a hurry to care if it became a bit wet, his hands got lost in your waist, kissing the zone between your belly button and your cunt, your skin reacting to every touch, pulling you in softly, slowly. While Steve was next to you, his hand still touching your clit, getting you warmed up for Eddie, as your hand curved around his cock, stroking it.

You noticed, while Eddie was longer, Steve was wider. Both of them large, though Eddie’s curved a bit, you knew that would be something you’d like, and you were eager to prove it to yourself.

Your free hand touched Eddie’s chin, making him look up at you, his gaze into yours, lowering as you sat on top of him.

You both moaned as he entered you, you made your way down slowly, fully wrapping around him, a sensation you were sure you could never forget. His hand grabbing your waist, guiding you gracefully. You left a quick kiss on his lips, before turning to find Steve.

He waited for you to guide him, he knew just how overstimulating everything must be, as much as he wished for you to do something right now, he waited, patiently, stroking his own erection as he looked at you, and the way you bounced on top of Eddie’s cock.

You pulled him in, his knees on the couch, his body sitting where the head usually rests, his hand petting your hair, you didn’t waste that much time, filling your mouth with him.

“Honey…” He blurted, having trouble articulating words. “You’re taking both of us so well.” He praised, as he started to pull your hair, your head following the movements, effectively mouthfucking you at the pace he wished, a series of profanities falling from his mouth.

“You really are.” Eddie added, his hands pulling you in deeper, your eyes closing out of pure pleasure, as his cock pushed into you, a rhythm you felt right in your stomach.

Eddie couldn’t help himself, he started with just a thigh squeeze, just to end up slapping your ass, the sound of the clapping only turning you on faster. Eddie was so close, his arms wrapped around you, in complete devotion. You took a second, continuing to work on Steve with your hand to kiss Eddie, Steve’s precum still on your throat, but he didn’t care. He needed you there, his forehead against yours, his mouth moaning and half screaming your name.

“I’m not gonna last long.” He said, drunk on you from head to toe.

“I want you…” You started, having to gather some air before continuing, you could feel his dick ripping you deeper every time he reentered, his hand pushing you deeper into him every time you did. “To come, please, Eddie, please.” You ended begging in a whimper, that did it for him.

You kissed him, before your head fell into his shoulder, biting him as you felt the way his muscles flexed around you, his head falling backwards.

“Shit” Eddie groaned as soon as he felt himself come, deep on you, looking deep in your eyes, a smile evident in them. Steve didn’t even think about it before doing it, once he made eye contact with him, his lips were on his, a soft kiss that needed to happen. Eddie’s hands still on the small of your back, Steve’s on the back of your neck.

“Hot.” You whispered, making you all three laugh, breaking the soft tension that was in the air.

You got off, Eddie groaned as he felt you leave, he didn’t want you to ever leave his side. You looked back at Steve, he knew what you wanted, no words needed. He nodded, before kissing you again, his hands pulling you a bit closer to him, before turning you over.

Your stomach laid on the couch cushions, your ass high as he could get it, a sight he loved if he was honest, only this time your head rested on Eddie’s lap, while he brushed your head, Eddie’s brown eyes looking up at Steve, another sight to be seen he thought. He took a moment to take it in, before his hands grabbed your waist, helping them find his way inside you, a moan of pure delight as you felt him. You bite Eddie’s thigh, careful not to moan too loud.

The sight of Steve fucking you, you trying desperately not to scream as he moved slowly, filling you up wider that he had, the small kisses and bites you were leaving on his skin were enough for him to get hard again, and you took that opportunity gladly, your tongue on the tip of his dick, licking tentatively, as you heard him groan at the feeling of you playing with him, his hands on his head, already overstimulated. Steve took that as what it was, and he went in harder, and harder, and harder.

“That’s it, you’re doing so good baby.” He moaned, his fingers turning white as he held you, no doubt leaving a mark on your body.

“Shit…” Eddie moaned again, as your lips opened wider, swallowing him deeper and deeper. “You’re… fuck you’re amazing.” He struggled to say as he whimpered, the praise only making you go in ways he never imagined.

Steve felt how your walls were closing, a clear indication you were getting exactly where he wanted you to be, his nails digging in your skin, in the kind of way he knew drove you insane, your back arched even more, letting him get deeper than he ever had.

“Eddie” Steve said, looking at him, his eyes were half gone once he looked back. “Touch her, she’s close.”

You confirmed as much, whining while your mouth was still filled with Eddie’s cock, your left hand stroking him at the same pace as Steve was fucking you.

As soon as you felt Eddie’s fingers on your clit, the coldness of the rings only making you enjoy it even more, you knew you weren’t gonna last long. Eddie felt it too, you were struggling to concentrate on sucking him off, so he pulled himself out of your mouth, kissing you instead.

“I rather hear you, sweetheart.” He whispered into your ear.

“Keep doing that, please.” You begged at both of them.

They did, somehow with the same rhythm, Eddie’s hand knew exactly how to touch you, while the other one was touching himself. Steve kept fucking you, the sound of your body hitting his was magic, you thought. Symphonies could be written with the way it all sounded, Eddie praising you, guiding you through it, Steve’s groaning your name as he pushed in and out, and you being as loud as you wanted to.

It didn’t take long before Steve felt it, your legs thigting, the sharp intake of your breathing, your hand closing in a fist.

“You can come, honey.” He groaned, as he too felt himself not being able to hold it for much longer.

“Please.” Eddie added, as he too wasn’t gonna last that much more.

You did, your back arched as you felt Steve hit you for a couple more times before the warmness filled you up, leaving every inch of your skin he could find covered with kisses. Eddie came, the cum falling in his stomach and hand.

“Jesus…” Eddie muttered, as he let his body fully relax.

“Yeah…” Steve added, pulling out of you, pulling you in for a hug as soon as his body hitted the couch.

You melted into his arms, nudging Eddie to come closer. He did with a half smile, you enjoyed Steve’s caressing of your skin whilst your fingers got lost into Eddie’s hair.

“Robin’s gonna kill me when I tell her…” Eddie muttered, before realising that he wasn’t sure if you were going to tell people about it.

“What will you tell her?” Steve asked, as if he could read his thoughts. Not in an inquisitive tone, more of a curious one.

“Tell her you went to Paris.” You half joked, a giggle escaping your lips. “She already knows, I’m sure.” You let the two confused men know.

“Does she?” Steve’s curiosity piked, you nodded, leaving a kiss on his chest.

“She said I should visit it right before the dance.” You let them know.

“Well, thanks Robin.” Eddie laughed, intertwining your fingers with yours.

“Are you staying over?” Steve asked at Eddie, you could sense a bit of hopefulness in his tone.

“If you let me.”

“We should go to bed then, comfier.” Steve added, the biggest smile on his face. “Maybe we’ll do this again.” He finished with a kiss on the top of your head.

562 notes · View notes

yelenasdiary · 2 days

Note

WandaNat yelling at each other over their last mission and reader having a ptsd episode (sudden loud noises, combat or abusive ex?)? Maybe reader goes black out for a few hours and wakes up in the forest outside the compound and WandaNat are trying to find her? Super angst to fluff? If thats okay 🤧

Notice Me

Pairing: WandaNat x Fem! Reader

Summary: When your girlfriends get into a heated argument, it triggers an episode for you, leaving the women to find you alone in the woods by the compound.

Angst, Fluff

Warnings: Mentions of PTSD, Mentions of an Abusive Ex, Hints of Domestic Violence, | 1.3K

Translations: Detka (baby),

AC: Thank you for sending this, I hope I did okay! Please don’t read this if you’re uncomfortable with the mentioned topics. Enjoy! x

The back-and-forth yelling coming from the hall only seemed to get louder as your girlfriends, Wanda, and Natasha, had just returned from a mission. You were reading a book, completely relaxed, and enjoying the quietness to read when you heard the familiar voices. Wanda opened the door to the shared bedroom, Natasha following close behind her. You looked up from your book and smiled softly at the women, but they didn't seem to have even noticed you laying on the bed in one of Nat's sweaters.

"What should I have done huh?" Wanda snapped, throwing her coat over the office chair by the desk.

"Oh, I don't know, maybe wait for your team?!" Natasha argued, "Wands, you have powers that others don't have but that doesn't mean you get to put yourself in a life-or-death situation!" The red head added. Wanda rolled her eyes, "do you really want to talk about life-or-death situations? Because you seem to throw yourself into the line of fire at the first chance you get!" Wanda rose her voice.

"I'm trained to do so!" Natasha argued back, tossing her bag to the floor. The loud thud of her bag hitting the floor made you jump; she didn't care for her weapons that were inside.

"Guys" you tried to interrupt before things escalated but it was too late. Wanda's eyes flashed with red chaos before she used her magic to slam the door closed, another loud thud that only drew you closer to an episode. "Guys, please!" You begged over their yelling voices but still, it was like you weren't even there.

The arguing continued until eventually, you couldn't take it anymore. Their tones got stronger, the slamming of things down got louder until everything went black as you left the room.

----

"Wands, have you seen Y/n?" Nat asked when Wanda came out of the bathroom in her comfortable clothing and her hair wrapped in a towel. Wanda shook her head, "I haven't seen her, not even when we got back but then again th-"

"Please don't start now" Natasha sighed, "Nobody has seen Y/n since lunch when she said she was going to come here and wait for us" she added, her tone of voice full of worry. Wanda looked to the bed and saw your opened book on the bed and your empty plate from lunch on the bedside table. She used her magic to take her back to the argument she had hours before with Natasha, "oh god" she spoke under her breath.

"What?" Natasha asked, "what is it?"

"We're selfish idiots, that's what! Get your coat, we have to find her" she replied.

Natasha grabbed her coat and met Wanda downstairs. Wanda could see the amount of worry and concern on Natasha's face, she took a moment to give her partner some comfort. "Nat, we'll find her and it'll be okay" she assures the widow but all this is a little too close to home for Nat.

"I can't lose her" Natasha broke.

"I know darling, we'll find her" Wanda wiped the rolling tear that Natasha had let go.

Wanda asked some of the others to join the search to find you, you didn't take your phone and Natasha noticed you left without your shoes on. Wanda tried her best to use her magic to find you, but something was blocking your mind from allowing her to do so.

Everybody broke up into small groups of two. Tony and Bruce started by car, driving around the surrounding neighborhood and closest stores. Steve and Thor searched the compound and surrounding areas while Natasha and Wanda searched the woods close by. It was only getting darker by the minute; the cold air began to get cold which only made every bodies worry and concern for your well-being even stronger.

"Wands! Over here" Natasha called out when she noticed footprints in the softened dirt. Wanda rushed to Nat's side, "this way, come on" Nat added. The two called out your name over and over as they walked deeper and deeper into the darkness of the woods.

"Nat, maybe we call Steve and get him to fly the jet over" Wanda suggested but Natasha shook her head, "the loudness will only make things worse" she reminded Wanda.

As the two tried their best to keep track of your footprints in the dirty, they heard the loud crunches of leaves up ahead. Natasha signaled to Wanda to pause their movements in-case it was a wild animal but instead, it was you. Stumbling out of the trees only for Natasha to catch you in her arms as you fell.

"Y/n! are you okay?" Natasha asked, brushing your hair from your face. Wanda rushed quickly to your side as Nat handed you to her before taking off her coat and instantly covering you in it to warm you up. "E-everything….it….y-ou" you stuttered, "shh, it's okay darling. You're safe now" Wanda pulled you closer to her, placing a kiss on the top of your head as your sobs became clear.

Wanda used her powers to levitate you back to the compound, not wanting to keep you out in the cold any longer. When Natasha got to your shared room, the two of them forgot about their argument and ran you a warm bath, they bathed you and helped you into your favorite pjs because making sure you were comfortable in bed.

"Detka, what happened?" Natasha asked in a soft tone. You looked over at her, your eyes filled with tears and mind filled with worry that you might have angered your girlfriends. "It's okay love, you talk to us" Wanda chipped in.

You took a moment to gather your feelings before you spoke, "You guys didn't even notice I was in here, you both came in yelling and slamming doors and when I tried to get between it, you both just didn't seem to notice me. I hid under the covers to try and drown out the yelling but some of the things you both said to one another just triggered me…" you explained with a pause, "everything just went back after Wanda said 'you know better' in that tone you had" you added, looking over at Wanda.

Natasha took you into her arms, "I'm so sorry detka, we promise never to let this happen again" she spoke, her hand rubbing up and down on your back. Wanda couldn't shake the terror in your eyes when she held you in the woods, she was quickly reminded of the fear you once had with your ex whom the women saved you from, she never, ever wanted to make you feel like that again.

"How about I fix us some hot coco and we watch whatever movie you like?" Wanda suggested, wanting to light the mood and help you forget about this afternoon. You looked up at Wanda and nodded, "can I please have double whipped cream?" You asked. Both of your girlfriends chuckled at your request, "is that even a question?" Wanda smiled before leaning over and pecking a soft kiss on your cheek, "anything you want darling" she whispered.

When Wanda came back with the three mugs of hot coco, the three of you curled up in bed and watched your favorite movie of all time. You were in the middle, Natasha to your left and Wanda to your right, both of them resting their heads on your shoulder. It wasn't long until you started to feel okay once again and the fear from their argument faded away as you drifted off to sleep before the end credits rolled on the screen. Wanda tucked you in and placed a kiss on your forehead before Natasha did the same.

"Date night tomorrow? I think we could with some time away from work" Wanda whispered, "I couldn't agree more!" Natasha smiled before the two shared a kiss.

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losersiren · 2 days

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𝒜 𝒥𝑒𝒶𝓁𝑜𝓊𝓈 𝒴𝒶𝓃𝒹𝑒𝓇𝑒!𝐿𝑜𝓇𝒹

”𝒶𝓈𝓀 𝒻𝑜𝓇 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓌𝑜𝓇𝓁𝒹, 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝐼'𝓁𝓁 𝑔𝒾𝓋𝑒 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒾𝓉 𝓌𝒾𝓉𝒽 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓈𝓉𝒶𝓇𝓈 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝒷𝑒𝓎𝑜𝓃𝒹 𝒶𝓈 𝒶𝒸𝒸𝑒𝓈𝓈𝑜𝓇𝒾𝑒𝓈.” A continuation of my oc Ambrose, The lord N: Don't I have a gift for you, Anon! God, I had to rewrite this so many times, BUT I'M DONE!! Eat up! This is a long one! I had to watch so many gun videos (like two), which was unexpected... CW: Fem reader (she/her), acts and talks of violence (not towards the reader), implied murder, threats, guns, fluff (with the reader lol), mocking, power balance (?) Jealousy (or pettiness) Wc: 3.5k

A shotgun sound echoes throughout the forest, followed by yet another dead Grey partridge and light crunches of leaves beneath stomping leather boots.

“That bastard of a man! A prick! Son of a bitch! Son of an adventuress at that!” Ambrose stops in his tracks, reloading his sporting rifle with more gunpowder. Anger consumes his entire being. ”Did you hear what that bloody cocksucker Patrick said to her?” He hissed through his clenched teeth, grabbing the tiny 0.5 mm sphere lead bullet and layering it on top of some fabric. Shoving it inside the rifle barrel, “If what he said changed from the last few hundred times you’ve re-told the incident, then I have no utter clue.” The younger male rolls his eyes, picking up the tenth bird Ambrose has slaughtered this afternoon. He ignores his younger cousin’s sarcastic quip and continues. “ ‘If you wish for a lovely evening, do not be a stranger; send me a letter, and I'll be by your side.’ I should’ve darkened his daylights when those vile words left his devil mouth.” He fixes his gun upright, pushing the first trigger, waiting for another prey to be a victim of his wrath.

“Is she spoken for? Have you outwardly said you intend to court her?” His cousin questions, and Ambrose, in retaliation to his younger relative’s question….blushes like a young girl. Clenching his jaw, he answers, “No,” “Are you mad?!?” “I’ve attempted…but my nervousness has sabotaged me alas.” Astonished, his cousin continues, “Then you have no right to be jealous of her, you fool.”

Bushes start rustling. Ambrose aims and squints instantly, with a pointer finger on the second trigger. A small grey rabbit appears, and immediately, it's killed straight through its skull; a soft smile appears on Ambrose’s face. “For her, I'll be whatever is needed.”

“You are not sane.”

“Don’t be rude, Finch. This is love in its purest form. One day, you’ll understand.” The older male shrugs his shoulders.

“Now,” Ambrose reloads his gun, repeating his past actions, but this time, he looks straight into the other male’s eyes. “What do you know about Patrick Barton?” “I do not-” Ambrose cuts him off. “ Do not lie to me, young Finch…” His voice becomes lower, mocking, his aura more sinister. “You frequent more gentleman clubs than I; lord knows I hate the people and atmosphere of said clubs– Your mother grumbles enough to mine about the subject.” In goes the gunpowder: “You surround yourself with such…’ vast’ personalities from the elites to the ladies of the night.” The grey-eyed man reaches into his waistcoat for a lead bullet. “Yet you tell me– you don’t know about a mere Lord.” He scoffs.

Finch watches his older cousin's actions. Of course, he only asked to spend time with him for information regarding the apple of his eye’s new ‘suitor.’ The young man knows his current situation, the number of Grey partridge carcasses he holds because of Ambrose, and how far deep he’s in the forest, alone with his turbulent cousin. This was a warning, a show of sorts, that he could join these insignificant birds. He tries to swallow the heavy lump stuck in his throat. Ambrose was always the odd man; his smile never reached his eyes, his charm as real as a disloyal man’s ‘ I love you.’ His older cousin wasn’t above putting his hands on his own blood to get what he wanted– Ambrose’s father’s scar is evidence enough.

“He partakes in Hell’s, frequents them more than gentleman’s clubs, a gambler of sorts. Loves it! He brags about the thrills of it and his winnings. Folks whisper that he’s a dishonourable shark. But it's not just hell establishments he attends; If there's someplace to gamble away his earnings, he's there,” Finch sputters his confession.

“And Mills? Does he attend those as well?” “Yes,” The younger lad answers his senior instantly.

Ambrose just hums in return.

Just finishing his task, he aims for his cousin; he wears an inexpressive face, his grey eyes darkened and vacant, with no light, no soul.

“Wait, wait! I told you what you wanted!” Finch pleas. He could run, but in retrospect, how far can he go? Ambrose has a fucking rifle. He’s a good shot, no, an excellent shot. Hell! It’s borderline impossible how he always hits his targets, especially with how hard it is to aim for those things. Finch is panicking; his cousin has already pushed the first trigger. The nervous lad just accepts it; what else could he do? He closes his eyes, expecting his death to come quickly, then he hears a gunshot…

And he's fine…? Another Grey partridge falls from the sky right before him, its dead eye looking at the twenty-year-old.

Ambrose’s gun aims towards the sky. He lowers it. Then he casually approaches the stunned male, who lets out a staggered sigh, relieved he escaped death by a hair. Ambrose looks down at Finch, grabbing his shoulder and leaning in close. “Don’t ever fucking lie to me ever again, especially when the topic concerns my love.” Finch nods rapidly, shaking like a leaf. “Of course, sir, sorry.” Then, the older male releases his shoulders. “Good. Gift those birds to a peasant; perhaps they’ll make dinner with it, oh, and the rabbit, too. Say I have decided to help my community or something along those lines.” He looks at the sky. “I have a woman blessed by aphrodite to court.” His smile is bright, contrasting how he was a mere few seconds ago. He pats his younger cousin’s back and leaves the forest– The lifeless Grey partridge stares back at Finch, and he stares back.

Social calls…How dreadful. Worse is conversing with Lord Barton. He’s a bore, vulgar, and has an underlying inconsiderate, bitter personality. Having your mother as a chaperone does not make the situation any more bearable.

“Have you ever pondered about the future?” he inquires.

What kind of wet rag question is that?

You put on a gentle smile. “Of course I have. Since I was a chit, I would read the local papers with my father-” He cuts you off “Children.” You look at him in confusion. “Pardon?”

The gentleman looks at you like you’re the biggest dunce in the country. “Children, how many children do you wish for? It would be sensible for us to have eight or ten,” “Hah…well…” you lift the tea cup to your mouth.

The man has no decorum…

After that fiasco, you decided to take a stroll downtown, and perhaps you’ll get a book from the local store, some new fabrics from a linen draper, or even some oils. Your pin money given to you by your parents could only cover one item... what a conundrum….

“Do tell me why the viscount’s only daughter is doing without a chaperone?” He leans against the brick wall, arms crossed, his smile beaming.

“Lord Howard, have you dropped your hunting hobby in exchange for stalking?” He chuckles. “Witty as always, but dare I disappoint? I was just strolling about my day and coincidentally saw you– Perhaps fate has decided for us to meet?” He pushes himself off the wall and offers his arm. Was it coincidence or fate…? No, it was none; it was all Ambrose, him asking your fellow lady peers about your whereabouts. Then, wandering near whatever local shops would possibly pique your interest. Memories play in his head, such as when you both were young and would rendezvous at the local forest. You would acquire many hobbies when you were younger– your mother said you would have a higher chance of obtaining a suitor with diverse skills. He would remember them and watch you in amazement when you talked about them.

You made him feel human. You made him feel alive. His father was never a loving one; he gained the son he wanted, and his heir then wanted nothing more to do with him. The only attention Ambrose earned from The Earl was if he needed reprimanding. Every laugh that was too loud, every fork that he unitized improperly, every action, small or big, was scrutinized. His mother was a vacant husk of a woman at home and a social butterfly in the public eye; she watered herself down to being a wife and a mother. She was neither. He detested both of them and hated that damned empty feeling of his soul and heart that matched his vacated house; he felt nothing. His world was as grey as his eyes.

Till he met the colourful Viscount’s daughter– If he got kicked by a horse and lost his memory, he would still somehow remember the day you two met—the memory ingrained in his bones, body, and soul. On the way to your estate, the stately carriage was soundless and suffocating, as if the air was thick. Ambrose remembers how he bore his eyes into his obsidian-polished boots, wishing for the minutes to pass faster.

You were a naive hoyden the first time you introduced yourself; you forgot to say his title and yours. Using his common name and giving him an oh-so-sweet genuine smile, he hadn’t ever seen such an authentic smile for him and only him—not for his parents nor his riches. Just him. Your parents scolded you while apologizing profusely for your ‘disrespect.’ Before his parents could utter something backhanded yet elegant, Ambrose smiled. He didn’t know he could do that. For the first time, the young boy speaks up; he feels this protectiveness over you. But, at the moment, Ambrose couldn't care less about his father's punishment that would soon come; the only thing that mattered was you, and soon he’d found out that it would always be you.

An airy laugh escapes you. “Do you wish for us to be caught in a scandal every time we meet?” He raises a faux, worried face and voice. “Me?!? As a future Earl, I am fulfilling my gentlemanly duties by escorting a fine young lady and keeping her from potential dangers. What’s so scandalous about that?” You take his arm. “You’re far from sane, My Lord.”

“For you, My lady? I hope so,” He says proudly with his chest out.

A comfortable silence lulls you as you look at how the sun hits the trees, people, and him. The sun's rays lighten his dark brown hair, blessing it with an orange hue and grey eyes, becoming Iridescent, more akin to a pearl.

“The latest on dit says Lord Barton has called for your company?” He inquires

Your face grimaces at just the sound of his name. As much as you loathe the man, he is a viable suitor with good money and an excellent reputation, but a suitable suitor does not equate to a good man. “He’s…an interesting individual…” His jaw clenches. You’re not being open as he wants; you’re holding back…he hates that you might be hiding something. Not you per se but that damned rake Patrick. “He’s a rake,” he spits out, and you gaze at him. He’s uncharacteristically serious.

You smile. “He is,” Ambrose turns his head to you, returning your smile.

“Quite the feat to dissect the woman you are trying to woo as well.” The gentleman’s eyebrows furrow. “He did not,” you huff. “Oh, he did!” Ambrose stops in his tracks and mummers your name softly. “If you would only permit it, Allow me to court you,” You raise an eyebrow at the sudden question, “Pardon?” He continues, “That bastard doesn’t deserve you.” “And you do?” he chuckles. “No, but I’ll do everything you ask me to, then maybe one day I'll deserve you; you wish for dresses? I'll buy you the tailor and store. Money is far from an issue. Heavens, ask for the world, and I'll give you it with the stars and beyond as accessories.” He turns his whole body to you, his hands finding yours, his leather gloves causing a barrier between your soft ones.

He hates that

“Ambrose…”

“Please…only if you’ll allow me.” The love-sick man entreated “But what about the other more suitable ladies? I’ve heard-” “I do not care for them,” He interrupts you. “Every second I was apart, I only longed for you. The only reason I kept my studies up was to be the perfect suitor equal to you.” He caresses your knuckles. The butterflies in your stomach flutter more after each word spills out of his mouth. Your relationship with Ambrose was vague at most. You couldn’t put your finger on it; every time you were in his presence, you had this comfort no one else could recreate. You were hesitant to put a label onto it, and maybe you feel this way because he was the only man you truly felt you could be yourself with.

“If you wish to court me, you must’ve thought to ask my father for permission rather than myself.”

“I could’ve,” He pauses, “But I'd rather ask you first; I need your permission. I am not marrying your father, am I? I need to hear you wish for me as much as I yearn for you,”

You amuse the thought. Ambrose is a prick at times, his teasing relentless, but despite that, he’s charming, sincere, soothing, and protective. He’s a good man, indeed.

“I’ll bite, My lord.” “Please do.” He smirked, masking his nervousness.

You slap his hand lightly, reprimanding him, “Let me continue, you brute…I’ll allow you to court me.” “Truly?” he exclaims, Astonished. “Truly,” You nod meekly. In a haste, he kisses your bare hands, each knuckle, each finger. “I’ve been blessed indeed,” his voice is as blissful as a child receiving a sugary dessert. You yank your hands away from him, flushed from his actions. “You dog, we are in the public,” you scold him. “I shall make it up to you in our next outing; I vow,” You swear you could see a wagging tale behind him. You sigh.

The day went on, and by sundown, Ambrose had hired a post-chaise for the both of you despite your protests of you living just around the corner. He claimed he had ‘Earl-like duties to attend to’ and you were just on the route back either way. As a gentleman should, he dropped you off promptly; as he left in the carriage, away from your estate, you softly ran your fingers over your knuckles. A smile adorns your face. “What an oaf,” you whisper to yourself. A fond grin decorates Ambrose’s face, a few giggles even, but as euphoric this day was, he did have business to attend to. A certain lord has decided to make his lacklustre presence known, and Ambrose couldn’t celebrate until he exterminated said pest.

Gentleman’s clubs were boisterous, loud, and untrustworthy. The men here are just as vile as the feed that is fed to pigs. The soon-to-be-Earl disliked them and only engaged in them because he needed to build his reputation. He may be judgemental, but he isn’t an idiot. Others may regard him as a friend, but for him, he could care less for it. The males around him start to recognize Ambrose, yelling pleasantries, which he would return and shut down politely or…as politely as he could in his eyes. A booming voice reverberates against the wall of the finely furnished building, only belonging to the one and only Patrick Barton. Unconsciously, a scowl appears on the young man’s face. Ambrose knew more than he led on about Patrick; he heard whispers of Barton’s hobby in the mills, rigging the boxing matches that were bid on by elites and peasants alike. Word says he would pay one of the desperate participants to lose on purpose– word is bound to escape one day or another. It is not a sustainable income source. Yet another reason Lord Barton is not fit for you.

Ambrose walks towards the table where the bastard sits, narrowing his eyes.

Lord Barton and his goons recognize the lord approaching them. Barton speaks first: “Lord Howard! Is it a blue moon? What on earth might’ve convinced you to come out of that dreadful estate?” He laughs, arranging some snuff onto the mahogany to snort. “Perhaps it’s because you plan on courting his woman.” a nameless male inquires. “No, could it be? I don’t blame you, Ambrose; she is a fine woman, isn’t she? She is just in need of training,” another male said, joining in. “So does every woman in this country.” Another chuckle escapes the vulgar lord.

Ambrose’s leather gloves wrinkle. His fist clenched to prevent him from beating the man in front of him into a pummel. He has a plan, the grey-eyed man repeats in his head. Then he forces a smile on his face. “On the contrary, I've decided to pick up a new gambling hobby; why not ask the man of the hour himself for advice? Or even a game or two.” Ambrose signals a servant and orders drinks for the table. The man in question gets up, slapping Ambrose on his back. “Atta boy, never let a woman come between men; let bygones be bygones, what a joyance plan! Come, come.” The night continues, and Patrick is as drunk as the rest of the men in the club; Ambrose, the gentleman he is, offers him to join his carriage in his words. 'Let’s start this newfound friendship off with a bang.' Cold water hits the once-drunken lord, and he awakens, gasping for air on the cold textured ground. ‘Where am I?’ he thinks, discombobulated, looking around and grasping his situation. The dark forest surrounds him, almost engulfing him; the trees blow along with the wind, and the creatures of the night rustle in the background. A voice comes from the shadows, luring him away from his racing thoughts, “Gunpowder is such a messy substance, but did you know a man invented a gun powered by air? What a time to be alive! How revolutionary!” Patrick looks at the man, most of his body consumed by the darkness of nightfall, the moon only making his grey eyes visible.

“Ambrose, what the utter fuck-” “Don’t interrupt.” He says sternly. “As I was saying, a gun powered by air,” He continues. “A watchmaker of all things invented it; how preposterous! He eliminated gunpowder entirely and named this new gun Windbüchse or, I know you only know English, so pardon me, I'll translate, wind gun.”

“It’s far better than my hunting rifle; the tedious thing is quite a hassle to reload. But this wind gun can load much faster, 20 rounds a minute! Compared to the other, it is much quieter. It's a shame its range is far smaller.” The man standing pouts. “But all is well. The Austrian army decided to order thousands of supplies, and it’s fortunate I even got my hands on one.” Patrick squints, trying to distinguish Ambrose, and it finally sets in. In a forest he doesn’t know of, with a man who has a gun in his hand in the dead of night. Not just any man but a Lord known for his physical fitness and hunting expertise since he was a just a lad.

Fuck

“If this is about your lady, Ambrose, you can have her! There’s no need to do this!” Patrick tries to reason with the love-sick lord, yet it's no use. The other man scoffs, “I’ve always detested men like you, greedy, hypocritical. Ready to jump boat when things get too tough for your liking– where is your backbone? Where is your spine? Your pride?” Ambrose circles the pain-filled man on the ground. “You never deserved to even be in her presence; you aren’t even entitled to breathe the same air as her,” He then spontaneously kicks Patrick's ribs, causing him to curl up on a ball, yelping. Ambrose looks down at the pathetic man. “But, I am a fair man, unlike you, so I'll give you a chance to run while I read you the note I have written in your writing announcing your hasty departure after news of your rigging in the mills comes to light, your writing was not hard to duplicate as well; who knew mother’s penmanship lessons would come in handy,” He chuckles.

“Now run, monkey, while you still can.” He sets the trigger and then turns the spindle of his gun clockwise till a clicking sound can be heard, indicating he doesn’t need to turn it anymore. Ambrose opens the barrel, puts in an 8.5 mm bullet, and then shuts it.

“I’m sure we can talk this out reasonably, money! I have money! Have it all; buy your woman something nice-” Patrick feels his thigh get warmer at first rather than the pulsing pain of a bullet shooting through his thigh that would soon follow shortly after. He screams.“To think you have the naivety to think I couldn’t fund my lover for generations on end,”

Ambrose rolls his eyes. “Scream louder; perhaps you’ll awaken a bear to save you,” yet again, he starts reloading his wind gun, faster at that, “I am not one to repeat himself nor give mercy. Run, rabbit.”

With adrenaline coursing through his body, Patrick runs…or well, attempts to.

Ambrose reaches into his waistcoat for the forged letter, clearing his voice to read it while his other hand holds his gun. Though his attention should be on the task at hand, he is utterly distracted by possible outing plans you would adore. Shall he go canoeing with you? Or a picnic? A carriage ride underneath the newly blooming cherry blossoms? Why not all three?

Oh. how he longs to see you again.

Notes: I'm gonna be so honest, romance is the hardest thing to write for me. It's probably noticeable, forgive me (⇀‸↼‶) I had to do some research for this one, but it was a fun process learning more about Regency lingo and gun history. For my next full fic. I was thinking of a yandere! Cannibalistic 50's housewife, but idk….hehe…if you have any ideas send them to my inbox!! I'd like to say again THANK YOU FOR THE SUPPORT!!! Reading all your kind words makes my little shy heart soar (o^ ^o) see you soon, my little guppies!!

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