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pucksandpower · 2 months

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I Have Needs Too

Lando Norris x Reader x Oscar Piastri

Summary: an old sports superstition claims that abstinence can help maximize athletes’ performance … your boyfriends decide to give it a try, much to your chagrin

Warnings: 18+ content

“I’m going to explode!” You whine dramatically, flopping down on the couch between your boyfriends. They exchange amused glances over your head.

“What’s wrong, love?” Lando asks gently, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear.

You huff in frustration. “You know exactly what’s wrong! It’s been weeks since we ...” You trail off meaningfully, raising your eyebrows.

Oscar chuckles, slipping an arm around your shoulders. “Come on now, it’s not been that bad.”

“Easy for you to say!” You retort. “You two have your racing to distract you. I’m stuck here all day, bored out of my mind and craving attention.” You pout at them.

Lando shakes his head in mock exasperation. “We talked about this, darling. The abstinence has really helped our performance lately.”

“I know, I know,” you sigh. “And I’m so proud of how well you both are driving this season. But ...” You bite your lip, gazing up at them beseechingly.

Oscar brushes a thumb over your cheek. “We understand it’s not easy, babe. But just be patient a little longer. We’re doing this for the team.”

You nod reluctantly, nestling into Oscar’s shoulder. His warmth and familiar scent are comforting, even as your body craves more.

“Why don’t we watch a movie to take your mind off it?” Lando suggests brightly, grabbing the remote.

You suppress a grumble. As if anything could distract you from the delicious men on either side of you. But you acquiesce for their sake, snuggling into Oscar’s side as Lando queues up an action comedy.

Twenty minutes in, you’re fidgeting restlessly, acutely aware of Oscar’s fingers trailing idly along your arm. You glance over at Lando to find him watching you, mirth dancing in his eyes. Your breath catches at the heat in his gaze.

Unable to resist, you reach over and trail a finger down his chest suggestively. Lando inhales sharply, his eyes darkening. Beside you, Oscar goes very still.

You bite your lip coyly. “Are you sure you don’t want to reconsider this whole abstinence thing?”

Lando swallows hard, his eyes raking over you hungrily. For a moment you think he might give in. But then he shakes his head ruefully. “You know we can’t, love. Just try to be patient.”

You huff in frustration, crossing your arms over your chest. Oscar squeezes your shoulder sympathetically. “It’s only a few more weeks till the season ends.”

“A few weeks too many,” you grumble. “I have needs too, you know!”

Lando chuckles, the sound sending a spark down your spine. “Believe me, we know. And we intend to take very good care of those needs once the season’s over.” His heated gaze leaves no doubt as to his meaning.

You bite back a whimper, arousal coiling hot and heavy within you. “Promise?” You breathe.

“Promise,” Oscar murmurs lowly in your ear, his warm breath raising goosebumps on your skin.

You suppress a shiver with effort, knowing you won’t get any further with them today. With a dramatic sigh, you settle back against Oscar, trying your best to focus on the movie.

But as the minutes tick by, you grow increasingly restless. Oscar’s solid warmth against your side only fuels your rising frustration. You shift, crossing and uncrossing your legs in an effort to relieve the building ache between your thighs.

Oscar glances down at you, one brow raised knowingly. “You alright there?”

You bite your lip. “I’m fine,” you reply tersely.

His mouth twitches in a hint of a smile and he resumes watching the movie, his arm a tantalizing weight across your shoulders.

You do your best to keep your eyes on the screen, but your thoughts keep drifting to much more pleasurable images — memories of your boys’ hands and mouths lavishing you with attention. You clench your thighs together, suppressing a whimper.

Gradually you become aware of your hand drifting higher up Oscar’s thigh, seemingly of its own accord. You freeze, snatching it back, your face flaming.

Oscar looks down at you, his brown eyes darkening subtly. “Y/N ...” he begins, a note of warning in his tone.

“I know, I know, I’m sorry,” you babble, avoiding his heated gaze. “I just … I can’t help it, Oscar, I need ...” You trail off helplessly.

His eyes soften and he brushes a stray lock of hair back from your face. “I understand, love. Just try to hang in there a little longer.”

You bite back a whine of frustration and force yourself to sit on your hands, determined not to let them wander again. But as the minutes pass, you grow more and more antsy and on edge. Your whole body feels like a live wire, hypersensitive and aching for their touch. Unconsciously, you press your thighs together again, seeking some form of relief, but it’s not nearly enough.

Abruptly you get to your feet, ignoring Oscar’s questioning look. “I just … need some air. I’ll be right back.” Before he can respond, you hurry from the room on shaky legs.

In the bedroom, you begin pacing agitatedly, running your hands through your hair. This is torture, plain and simple. You’ve never felt so pent-up and on edge in your life. Surely no one could expect you to hold out much longer under these conditions?

Your gaze falls on the bed and you freeze, a reckless idea taking shape in your mind. No … you couldn’t possibly … could you?

Before you can talk yourself out of it, you shut the door behind you as quietly as you can. Then you begin shedding your clothes hastily until you’re down to your underwear.

You stand there a moment, nibbling your lip uncertainly. But the throbbing ache between your legs wins out over your hesitation. Taking a deep breath, you slide your underwear off and climb onto the bed.

Propping some pillows up against the headboard, you lean back and let your legs fall open. Your fingers trail teasingly up your inner thighs and you have to suppress a needy whimper. Slowly, watching yourself in the mirror across from the bed, you begin to stroke along your slick folds.

A breathy moan escapes you at the exquisite sensation. After weeks of deprivation, your swollen flesh is so sensitive that the lightest touch sends spikes of pleasure through you. As you work yourself higher, you let your eyes slip closed, losing yourself in the building bliss.

You’re so consumed by sensation that you don’t hear the bedroom door open. But Oscar’s sharp intake of breath jolts you back to awareness. Your eyes fly open to see him standing frozen in the doorway, his shocked gaze riveted on where your fingers are buried between your legs.

Heat floods your cheeks but you don’t stop, biting your lip coyly. “I tried … I really did. But I just couldn’t wait any longer.”

Oscar makes a strangled noise low in his throat, his eyes blazing. He takes a step into the room just as Lando comes up behind him.

“Oscar, what ...” Lando begins, then trails off as he peers over Oscar’s shoulder. “Bloody hell,” he breathes, his eyes going wide.

Your flush deepens at their rapt expressions but you hold their heated stares boldly. Oscar takes another step toward you, clenching his jaw.

“Y/N,” he warns in a strained voice. “What did we say about patience?”

You pout up at him beseechingly. “Please … don’t make me stop,” you whimper.

Groaning under his breath, Oscar rakes a hand through his hair. You can see his restraint hanging by a thread. Lando moves up behind him, gripping his shoulders.

“How can we resist when she tempts us so sweetly?” Lando murmurs.

Their hungry eyes devouring you makes moisture flood your aching core. Emboldened, you spread your legs wider, giving them an unobstructed view. Oscar makes a choked noise, his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides.

“You’re playing with fire,” he warns through gritted teeth. But his eyes are riveted on your fingers sliding slickly along your slippery folds.

Your strokes increase in urgency as your climax builds, whimpers escaping your lips. “Please,” you gasp pleadingly. “I need you ...”

With a growled curse, Oscar surges forward, capturing your mouth in a searing kiss. His body covers yours and you sigh in bliss, finally getting what you crave. His tongue plunges past your lips, tangling fiercely with yours. You can feel his restraint hanging by a thread in the urgency of his kiss.

Lando joins in moments later, his clever hands trailing fire over your sensitized skin. Caught between the two of them, you’re surrounded by hard muscle and greedy mouths. The sweet relief of their touch after so long has you reeling.

You clutch desperately at Oscar’s back, urging him closer between your thighs. But he resists, keeping maddening inches between your bodies.

Pulling back from the kiss, his eyes bore into yours, dark with desire but firm. “Not yet, babe. You’ve been a naughty girl. Don’t think you’re getting out of this so easily.”

You whine in frustration, arching up against him beseechingly. But Oscar grasps your wrists, pinning them to the bed on either side of your head.

“Ah ah, patience,” he chides with a smirk.

Lando chuckles, trailing kisses down between your breasts. “Our minx deserves a bit of torment, I’d say.”

You whimper as their hands and mouths worship every inch of you except where you need them most. They lavish attention on your breasts, your neck, your inner thighs — everywhere except for your poor aching and dripping core.

“Please,” you gasp, writhing beneath their exquisite torture.

Lando looks up at you from between your thighs, eyes dancing wickedly. “Tell me, do you regret being a brat yet, darling?”

You shake your head desperately. Oscar tsks, tweaking a stiff nipple to make you arch sharply. “I don’t think you’ve learned your lesson quite yet.”

They continue driving you right up to the brink only to back off again and again, keeping you suspended in agonizing arousal. You’re a writhing, pleading mess beneath their skillful touches.

Just when you think you can’t take another second, Oscar’s fingers finally find your slick heat. You cry out sharply, cradled between them as he strokes you with knowing skill. Lando’s teeth graze the tender spot on your neck and you shudder, right on the precipice.

“That’s it, let go for us,” Lando rasps in your ear. His voice combined with Oscar’s relentless rhythm pushes you over the edge with a breathless wail.

You’re still trembling through aftershocks when Oscar captures your mouth again, kissing you deeply as his hands fumble at his belt. Understanding dawns through the pleasured fog in your mind and you still his movements with a hand on his chest.

“Wait,” you gasp out. At his bewildered look you offer a coy smile. “You two still have your little abstinence pact to uphold. Can’t have you breaking it on my account.”

Oscar stares at you incredulously for a moment before huffing out a disbelieving laugh. “You can’t be serious.”

Lando groans behind you. “Y/N, love, don’t be cruel ...”

You silence him with a finger to his lips, giving them both a mock stern look. “What? You made a commitment. I won’t have you compromising your performance for me.”

They gape at you in sexual frustration and dismay. Taking pity, you lean in and place a placating peck on each of their cheeks.

“There now, that will have to hold you over. Only a few more weeks till the season ends!” You pat their shoulders consolingly before sliding off the bed on shaky legs. Sashaying your hips, you head for the bathroom, their heated stares like a brand on your bare skin.

Pausing in the doorway, you glance back alluringly. “Of course, once the season ends, we can all properly celebrate … if you’re good boys for me.” You shoot them a cheeky wink over your shoulder, “Cold showers might help until then.”

You suspect you’ll pay dearly for such exquisite torture later on. But their reactions were well worth it. And the countdown to the end of the season has never seemed sweeter.

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hs-is-loml · 6 months

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You Know This. (cl16)

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x best friend!Reader

Summary: moments of charles and reader throughout the years that show they are so obviously meant for each other so carlos gives them a small push. (they are basically together but without the title...)

Warnings: mentions of Jules and Hervé so little angst but the majority is fluff! one kiss? lando swears. cute couple moments of two idiots UNEDITED

a/n: almost forgot how to write compared to the social media AUs i've been doing... hope you enjoy :)

all translations of french below

Chérie = darling

masterlist

19 years old

You stared out the window overlooking the streets of Baku until you heard a sigh from across the room.

“I’m so tired. Is it even worth going through this weekend?” Charles admitted as you looked over to him running his hands over his face while he took a seat on the edge of the hotel bed. “I don’t know if I’ll make it through.”

“No one will blame you if you don’t,” you said walking over to stand in front of him.

“That’s what they all expect isn’t it?”

“You’re doing more than enough just being here,” you brought your hands to his face and gently rubbed your thumb along his jaw.

“I miss him, Y/n. How am I supposed to continue without him?” he whispered while he wrapped his arms around your frame and pulled you closer to lean his head against your stomach.

You could tell that he had finally reached a breaking point from holding out on his own emotions as he helped everyone in the family with theirs. You knew that he was staying strong for Pascale and Arthur while Lorenzo was handling everything for Hervé’s funeral. When he asked you to accompany him for this race, you said yes without any doubts crossing your mind.

You soon feel his shoulders shake as he lets out soft sobs. “You continue for him. Just like you have done for Jules, they’re going to watch your legacy grow together. One day you’ll be driving in that red car placing poles and winning races. You will make it through this,” you played with the hair at the nape of his neck as you reassured him.

You were aware that he had told Hervé a few weeks ago that he had signed with Ferrari already. In the past few years, it had always been the goal. Everyone understood how crucial it was for him to make that come true.

“You can’t be sure of that.”

“I know, but I believe in you. We all do. It’s only a matter of time.”

“What would I do without you?” he lifted up his head to look at you.

“Well, it’s a good thing I never plan on leaving you,” you leaned down to press a gentle kiss on the crown of his head.

"I'll never let you go."

20 years old

You were talking with Andrea and Lorenzo near the Alfa Romeo motorhome while you all waited for Charles to finish with media day. “How do you think he’s doing with the news?” you anxiously looked around in the hope of seeing him heading your way. “The media has gone wild when the contact got out that he signed with Ferrari.”

“Probably basking in the attention,” Lorenzo laughed. “You know how long he’s waited for this.”

“That boy never fails to catch the camera either,” Andrea added while you covered your mouth with your hand trying to stifle your laugh when you realized that Charles was finally done for the day.

Charles came to your side snaking an arm around your waist and teasingly poked you, “What are you three laughing about you?”

“You,” all of you replied, causing him to gasp in fake annoyance.

“I know ma chérie would never do such a thing,” he shook his head at the two men. “Enzo, look how bad of an influence you are.” Which was Andrea’s queue to quietly leave before he was targeted by the young driver too. He took Lorenzo along with him as the older brother gaped at the accusation.

You both started to head to his driver’s room to gather his things before driving back to the hotel. “How was it?” you asked him while you took out his phone from your purse.

“A lot. It feels like it’s never ending and everyone keeps congratulating,” he smiled and reached out for the phone.

“I’ve only heard of all the good things so far,” you tell him and hand the phone back to him.

You had begun to look for your jacket, and it was almost as if he had read your mind, “It’s right here, I’ve got it.”

As you two walked out of the paddock, there were still crowds of fans and photographers lingering around the area hoping to catch a glimpse of one of the drivers. People started to whisper and squeal when they saw Charles place his hat on your head allowing you to shield your face from the now flashing cameras.

“Who is she?”

“Aww, that’s so sweet!”

“They must be dating.”

“Charles! Over here!”

“Can you sign this for me please!”

You listened to all the hollers from the crowd as you got into the car, “Wow.”

“You okay?” Charles softly asked and glanced at you before starting to drive back to the hotel.

“Were they always like that while you were in F2 and I’ve never noticed?” you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding.

“I’m not sure,” he chuckled at your reaction.

21 years old

“He has one more corner!” you held onto Andrea’s arm anxiously looking at the screen.

“MERCEDES THREW EVERYTHING AT HIM TODAY… CHARLES LECLERC HAS COPED BRILLIANTLY!” you heard from the speakers.

“HE’S GOT IT!” one of the crew members screamed when they saw Charles shoot down to the line.

“HE WINS IN SPA, HE WINS IN MONZA! CHARLES LECLERC IS THE WINNER OF THE 2019 ITALIAN GRAND PRIX!” David Croft announced as Charles crossed the finish line. He had just won in Monza in front of the infamous Tifosi.

You felt yourself get pushed to the front of the barrier as people started rushing to see the winner. The momentous scene couldn’t have been better. He had just ended the nine-year winless streak in Monza and scored his second consecutive race win. All you could hear in the hectic moment was the Ferrari crew chanting out in Italian for Charles. The crowds of fans roared out in cheers and the stands filled with raised Ferrari and Italian flags.

You will never forget the moment he jumped down from on top of his car and made his way over to you. His hands found your sides as you held the sides of his helmet. “You did it,” your smile wide and eyes filled with tears as you focused on him.

“For them,” he told you tenderly.

“For them,” you repeated and placed a kiss right where you thought the corner of his mouth would have been. The crew reached over to congratulate him, and the cameras were pointed directly at him wanting to capture the moment.

The podium ceremony was scintillating. The crew, media, and Tifosi all packed in to see their winner. Andrea knew to keep you close to the front knowing that Charles would want to see you more than anyone else. It wasn’t only you looking up at him in admiration though it seemed like the world stopped for a moment when he blew a kiss back down to you from the podium.

Your cheeks flushed from the action and beamed as you met his eyes, “I love you,” you mouthed to him hoping he could read your lips from the stand.

“I love you,” he replied back.

22 years old

With COVID delaying the F1 season and everyone having to quarantine. You and Charles had decided to move in together into his apartment to keep each other company. It wasn’t hard to fall into a routine for you two.

“Y/n! Can you bring me water please?” you heard a yell from Charles’ gaming room.

You got up from the couch and set aside your book heading into the kitchen. Decided to bring him a small pack of crackers as well along with the water since he had been on stream for a while. You brought the plate to him which he thanked you for and gave your hand three small squeezes.

The simple interaction caused the chat to make tons of new comments flow through regarding you. Over the past few years, you found yourself more comfortable with your life in front of the camera because of his career, and it makes you look back to the times of Charles’ first year in F1. You could now give a small wave to the camera before you planned to head back out to the door.

“That’s not fair,” you heard Lando complain from the screen, causing you to halt in your footsteps to listen closely. “You have Y/n to bring you stuff, and you don’t even need to stop the game.”

“Lando’s just jealous he doesn’t have anybody,” George snickered.

“Damn right, I am,” Lando huffed out. “I want a Y/n.”

Charles noticed you silently laughing and he motioned for you to come back over wanting to tease Lando a bit more. He wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you in closer to be in the frame, “Too bad there’s only one of her.”

Lando started muttering about how it was not his fault that he was alone during these times all while you shook your head at their antics. Alex and George continued the jokes creating a newfound argument that moved the topic away from you and Charles. “What do you want for dinner?” you questioned him softly not wanting to disrupt the chaotic banter from the others.

“Will you make carbonara?”

“DID YOU HEAR THAT??” Lando pointed to the screen baffled. “SHE EVEN COOKS DINNER FOR HIM! WHEN WILL IT BE MY TURN? Y/N, WILL YOU COOK FOR ME NEXT TIME?”

“Sure, Lando. Once quarantine ends we can plan something out,” you replied with a sweet smile towards the camera.

“YES!” he cheered out at your response.

“Once we get back to racing, will you bring your cookies again?” George asked excitedly.

“Or the muffins!” Alex added on.

“I’ll go and bring them if you bring Lily, Alex!” you answered them.

24 years old

You told Charles earlier in the week telling him that you couldn’t make it to the Bahrain Grand Prix due to work. Really you just wanted to surprise him, and you had been in contact with Carlos planning it out.

“I think he is getting suspicious of me,” Carlos told you over the phone as you got your bags together waiting for Carlos’ cousin to come and get you from the airport.

“Well, I’ve only sent him short messages for the past few days and maybe ignored a couple of his calls because I can’t keep lying to him…” you explained which caused the man on the other side of the phone to snicker at your dispense.

“I swear you want him to kill me, Y/n. Once he finds out.”

“Find out what? Who are you talking to all the time, mate?” you listened to Charles continuously question Carlos.

"No one!" Carlos quipped.

"Is that Y/n?" Charles asked him.

"No, it's my sister..."

“Good luck!” you hung up the call quickly and got into the car with Carlos Oñoro.

“Charles found out?” he started heading to the hotel that the Ferrari team was staying at.

“Hopefully not yet, but Carlos was talking about how he’s on to him already.”

A notification went off on your phone and you saw it was a text message from Carlos.

You opened your messages with Charles and came up with something quick to text him about.

at the circuit

“Hermosa! You made it!” Carlos exclaimed when he saw you walking towards the group of the drivers that just got out of the media pen. "I swear he was going to choke me earlier."

You laughed at his remark and went over to his side to whisper to him, “He doesn’t know I’m here yet, right?”

He tugged you a bit closer and kept his hand on your upper back. He spoke into your ear in a hushed tone while carefully looking around, “Not a clue, but you remember what I said over text? You say he’s not your boyfriend yet, so let’s mess with him just a little. It’ll prove something to you.”

“Prove what-”

You were cut off by Lando as he finally took notice of your presence, “Y/n! Tell me you brought them!”

“Yes, Lando,” you smiled, taking a small packaged bag of cookies out of your bag before you could even hand them to him. He had snatched it and already begun opening the bag. “Yours are back at the hotel,” you told Carlos who was trying to take one from Lando.

“GIVE ME ONE!” George yelled at Lando who took his chance and ran off with his cookies.

“NO!” causing George to chase after the Mclaren driver.

Another group of drivers came over as they had just finished with their interviews. You saw Charles talking with Sebastian but he didn’t see you yet. “Sweetheart! A pleasant surprise, Charles was just talking about how you couldn’t make it,” Sebastian said with a smile as he walked past you with Fernando.

“Hello, Sebastian,” you smiled back and felt a breath near your ear.

“How long do you think it will take him to drag you away?” Carlos said in a low voice.

“He wouldn’t,” you mutter back.

“Oh, yes he would. Good luck with him,” Carlos grinned as Charles had stormed over to you two and grabbed a hold of your wrist.

“Charlie!” you yelped as you tried to keep up with his pace towards the Ferrari’s motorhome and into his driver’s room.

He shut the door behind him, “So you can text Carlos but not me?”

"What are you talking about?" you acted confused."

"I know you were on call with Carlos earlier. But you couldn't even answer mine this morning?"

“It was supposed to be a surprise, Charles,” you huffed out.

“What a surprise that you and Carlos are together now?” he scoffed at the mere thought.

You began to laugh aloud which caused him to frustrate even further, “E-ex-cuse me?” you said through your laughter.

“This is not funny, Y/n.”

“Charles, it’s funny you think that I would even do anything with Carlos in the first place,” you pointed out to him while setting your bag down on a chair.

You heard his footsteps come closer to you until you felt him press against your back, “Are you not?”

You turned around to face him and took his face in your hands, “Of course not.”

“Good,” he placed his hands on your waist rubbing up and down your sides.

“And why is that?” you raised your eyebrow at him.

“Y-you kno-o-ow b-b-because you’r-re…” he trailed off a stuttering mess caught off guard by your question.

You stroke his jaw with your thumbs and brought his face closer to yours, “Charles, I’m yours. You know this.”

He leaned down and closed the gap between your lips in a long-awaited kiss. He kissed you gently as if he were testing the waters. You smiled against his lips and moved to wrap your arms around his neck as his hands moved to your hips. You moved forward slightly to lean more into him and he let out a groan against your mouth. He stilled in the kiss, keeping your hips in place from moving further.

“No more surprises, okay?" he said as you separated.

"Okay, but no more jumping to conclusions either."

"You are going to give me gray hairs early, Chérie," he exasperated.

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megxplryxb · 2 months

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Romance is Dead, Isn't it?

Pairings: Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader

Notes: Sweet and fluffy, little bit of angst. Based around Valentine’s Day because I’ve had this is in my drafts for a minute.

The smell of cheap, overused aftershave and five dollar bouquets, currently lingered throughout the aisles of Family Video. Loved up couples filling the store, holding hands, whispering sweet nothings and pressing kisses to their lovers blushing cheek as they scanned the shelves of the romance section.

Love heart decorations hung from the ceiling, pink foil curtains draped over the entrance and Cyndi Lauper’s Time After Time blared from the speakers while you completed sellotaping the balloons you’d only finished inflating ten minutes ago. You weren't exactly sure why Keith was making Valentine's Day such an extravaganza this year but you were absolutely hating every second of it.

February fourteenth had never been kind to you. Not when you were ten years old and the card you thought had been from your childhood crush was actually written by your Mom. Not when you were fifteen and you went to the movies with Jackson Taylor, who made up a rumour that he had gotten to second base with you and definitely not last year, when Derek Cooper had taken you out for dinner, only to be caught by his girlfriend that he had surprisingly forgotten to mention.

Yeah, Valentine's Day could suck it.

“If one more person asks if we have another copy of Sixteeen Candles, I swear, I won't be held responsible for my actions.” You warn, jumping down from the step ladder with a loud huff.

“Yikes, what’s gotten your panties in a bunch today babe?” Robin questions with a teasing smile on her face as she serves the next customer.

“My panties are not in a bunch thank you very much. I'm just saying, what kind of moron waits until Valentines Day to rent the most sought after romcom?" You ask, taking a gulp of water in an attempt to erase the taste of rubber from your mouth.

Fake laughter echoes from the other side of the store where some girl has been flirting with Steve for the past fifteen minutes. You'd noticed her outside before she walked in, glossing her lips and pushing her boobs up just enough to get the attention she was obviously desperate for. She's annoyingly pretty, with perfect hair and sun kissed skin and when she raises her well manicured hands to rest on his bicep, you can’t help but grit your teeth at them.

"Is he planning to do any work at all today?" You point, rolling your eyes as Robin looks over at her other best friend and then back to you with a frown. She can sense the irritation in your voice and she knows why, even if you would never admit it. The signs have been there for quite some time and she wonders how much longer you can keep up the charade of not having feelings for Steve Harrington.

"Hey Dingus! A little help over here?" Robin demands, directing him to the queue of customers waiting for assistance at the counter. Steve nods his head, apologising to the girl who makes sure to write her number on his arm before waving goodbye.

“Yeah, thanks for calling me over, I've been trying to get away from her for like, the last ten minutes.” Steve breathes a sigh of relief, gesturing for the next customer to approach.

“Yeah, you really looked like you were being held against your will there, Harrington.” You scoff bitterly, stacking up a pile of returned tapes.

“Seriously, did you guys not see me trying to signal for help when she started touching me? I mean come on, desperate much?" He jeers, shaking his head.

"She did seem disgustingly eager." Robin interjects, scrunching her nose.

"Since when has that ever stopped him?" You reply, motioning towards Steve, who seems a little bit offended by your words.

"Jesus, why does it look like Cupid came all over this place?" Eddie chuckles as he enters the store, getting his jacket caught in the foil curtain, almost ripping it off of the door.

“Hey, careful Munson, don’t mess up my masterpiece!” You warn, carrying the tapes into the back as he slowly untangles himself.

"Because dear Edward, it is the day of love and romance!” Robin squeals excitedly, clapping her hands.

“Can you tell she has a date with Vickie tonight?” You tease, her cheeks turning pink at the mention of her new girlfriend.

“Alright, way to go Buckley.” Eddie high-fives the girl who couldn’t contain her happiness.

“We’re just going to the movies but I’m so nervous! Like, what if I make a total doofus of myself around her? She might not be as accepting of my clumsiness as you guys. I could fall up the steps when we’re walking to our seats or choke on the popcorn or…”

“Robin relax, you’re gonna give yourself a heart attack.” Steve interrupts, hearing the conversation from the till. His eyes meet yours, both of you sharing a disapproving look at your friend’s lack of confidence in herself. It was something you often discussed between yourselves, trying to figure out ways to help her see just how great she really was. Robin had always been good at hyping other people up, telling them how awesome or pretty they were but it was a completely different story when it came to herself.

“Steve’s right, you need to chill out. Vickie’s already heard you doing god awful karaoke, not to mention witnessing you hurl all over the bathroom floor at the Hideout and she’s still drooling over you. The girl is putty in your pretty little hands.” You jokingly reassure with a smile and it seems your light hearted words put her somewhat at ease as she takes a relieved breath.

“Hey, do you guys have a copy of that new movie with Molly Ringwald? Sixteen something?” Eddie shouts from the romance section of the store earning a scowl from you.

“Shit out of luck Munson, we’re totally sold out.” Steve replies, the curly haired metal head letting out a dramatic groan as he walked back to the counter, causing some of the other customers to flinch.

“Didn’t take you for a romcom kinda guy Eds.” You mock as he gives you a toothy grin. “Sweetheart, if it helps me get laid by the end of the night, I’ll watch anything.”

“Ew, gross Eddie, I really don’t need visions of you and Chrissy getting it on.” Robin shivers in disgust.

Although you share the same sentiment as your best friend, you can't help but think how nice it is that Eddie finally found someone that truly loves him for who he is. You couldn't remember ever seeing him so happy and a little part of you was jealous that you didn't have that with someone too.

"Harrington, did you get a tat dude?" Eddie quizzes, pointing to the digits on Steve's arm. You're taken out of your thoughts upon hearing the question directed at your coworker. Steve's eyes fall to you for a brief moment but you busy yourself with some paperwork, trying your best to pretend you're not paying attention to them.

"Oh, um no man, just a customer earlier, gave me her number." Steve brushes off with a shrug.

"Sweet, you gonna call her?" The hellfire leader interrupts and you hate yourself for wanting to know the answer too.

"God no, she was way too forward." Steve says, shaking his head, hoping that would be the end of the conversation as you relax again.

"What's wrong with forward? Come on man, it's Valentine's Day, call her, ask her out." Eddie encourages, wondering why Robin was shooting him a killer look as Steve shifts uncomfortably.

"Actually, I kind of already have a date tonight." He states, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. The relief you felt moments ago, quickly vanishing, being replaced with a gut wrenching feeling in the pit of your stomach. Steve had someone and it wasn't you. It would never be you.

“You do? Since when, why wasn’t I informed about this?” Robin quizzes suspiciously.

“I don’t have to tell you everything, Robin.” He huffs, rolling his eyes.

“Do we know her?” Eddie smirks and you wish you were anywhere else right now.

“Maybe you do, maybe you don’t.” He answers coyly before serving the next customer.

“So what about you sweetheart, who’s the lucky guy that’s taking you out tonight?” The metal head grins, raising his brows suggestively.

You see Steve and Robin turning their heads, attention on you as Eddie waits for your response. For a moment you consider lying, trying to think of a name and a place just to save face on being the only one without a date for tonight and maybe a little part of you wanted to see what Steve’s reaction would be too. But Robin already knew you had no plans, she had probably already told Steve the same.

“There isn’t one.” You answer, looking down at the ground, wanting it to swallow you whole.

“Bullshit, every time I’m in here there’s a guy asking you out.” Eddie spits, frowning at your response.

He’s right, guys do ask you out. It’s not like you were some sort of prude who never had a sex or never went on dates but lately, you just hadn’t been feeling it. Not when your heart belonged to someone who didn’t even know they had it and until you could get over Steve Harrington, it wouldn’t be fair to start something with someone else.

“Yeah, just not the one I actually want.” You reply, refusing to look Steve’s way as you walk to the back.

You figure now is a good time to take you break, needing a moment away from your friends to regain your composure. The restroom door locking behind you as you drop to the floor, tucking your knees into your chest. How had you gotten here? How had you been so stupid to fall for your friend? How had you allowed this to happen?

You secretly wondered who Steve’s date could be, knowing there was a number of viable contenders. Was it the brunette from last week who asked him to explain how The Lost Boys wasn’t a Peter Pan spin off or the blonde that always laughed at his jokes even when they weren’t even funny. Or maybe it was the raven haired girl who openly discussed her recent porno rentals with him every week.

One thing you knew for sure, it certainly wasn’t you.

The sound of footsteps brings you back to your shitty reality and the sudden knock on the bathroom door has you standing on your feet again.

“Hey, it’s just me. Are you ok?” You hear Robin ask from the other side. You straighten yourself up, wiping your clothes down before unlocking the door to face your friend.

“Yeah of course, why wouldn’t I be?” You question, doing your best to give her a reassuring smile but she sees right through you.

“I honestly didn’t know dingus had a date, I would have told you if I did.” She mutters nervously as you shake your head.

“Why? It’s not like I care what he does.” You state as Robin gives you an unconvinced glance.

“Babe, it’s me you’re talking to right now, no one else. You forget I used to be the master at hiding my feelings, so I know all the signs. You’re totally crazy about him aren’t you?” She quizzes, as you shrug your shoulders. There was no point in hiding it from her anymore, she could read you like a book.

“I’ll get over it.”

“Why don’t you just tell him how you feel?” She suggests as you let out a bitter laugh. “Did you not just hear what he said out there? He has a date, Robin.”

“Yeah but maybe if—”

“No. I’m not telling him alright? So please, just drop it.” You beg, letting out a deflated sigh.

Robin decides not to push you any further, realising you didn’t want to talk about it right now but you know this won’t be the end of it and eventually you’d have to answer the many questions you were sure she was going to have, taking a mental note to purchase alcohol before you talked about your feelings for Steve with her. But for now, you were grateful that she was leaving well enough alone so you could get back to work and pretend that everything was fine.

The remaining hours went by painfully slow, the romance section almost bare and you were counting down the minutes before you could go home to your bed and shut out the world while you waited for this shitty day to be over. Once the store got a little quieter, Steve offered to man the counter while you did Robin’s make up in the back, helping her get ready for the long awaited date before her girlfriend picked her up.

By 7:45, you were left with Steve and Keith who had been in his office doing paper work since he ordered you to decorate the store earlier. Steve had noticed you were quieter than usual, trying his best to joke and make light conversation but all he was met with was one worded answers.

“It was really cool of you to do Robin’s make up, y’know?” You hear Steve mumble as you restock the confectionery stand.

“That’s what best friends are for, right?”

“Yeah of course but you saw how nervous she was all day and I think you helping her out by making her look all pretty and stuff, just gave her the confidence boost she needed for tonight. I just thought it was really sweet of you.” He compliments, a warm look on his face that has your frosty demeanour melting.

“Alright, I’m done for the day. You two ok to lock up?” Keith asks, dousing himself in cheap cologne as Steve shoots his boss a glare knowing it was his night to close.

“No, not really. I have a date.” Steve argues as Keith grunts unsympatheticly. “You’re not the only one lover boy.”

“Online chat rooms don’t count, Keith.” Steve fires back as you try not to laugh at the expression on your boss’s face.

“You want to be out of a job, Harrington?” Keith threatens, looking less than impressed.

“No, but I really need to—”

“That settles it then, you two will lock up. Happy Valentines Day.” He smirks, throwing Steve a set of keys before exiting the store.

“What an asshole!” Steve groans, throwing the keys on the counter, putting an irritated hand through his signature hair while his plans hang in the balance.

“Now I get why he wanted me to decorate so badly.” You mutter, thinking back to how you spent the first couple of hours of your shift, blowing up balloons and getting sticky tape stuck in your hair. Keith was loved up like the rest of your friends. Cupid had gotten another one.

“Do you actually believe he has a date?” Steve asks, frustration still apparent in his voice as you nod your head, groaning.

“As much as it pains me to say yes, given that I myself don’t actually have a date, when have you ever seen him put on cologne?” You question as Steve lets out a heavy sigh.

“Good point. I hope she stands the son of a bitch up though.” He grins playfully and you can’t help but smile back at him. He was so breathtakingly beautiful and you kind of hated him for it.

“Hey, look at that, I finally got a smile out of you.” He teases, poking at your cheek as you lightly push his hand away.

“Steve, quit it.” You giggle as he shakes his head.

“Not a chance, you’re just so pretty when you smile.” He admits, cupping your face momentarily, locking his eyes with your own and your breath hitches as his warm hand rests on your face, his thumb carefully caressing your cheek and you hope to god you’re not blushing right now. Your eyes wander to his lips, pink and plump and a little chapped from the cold weather Hawkins was currently experiencing and you couldn’t help but wonder what lucky girl would get to kiss them later on.

For a moment as Steve gazed at you, you considered telling him everything. How you’ve been crazy about him since you worked at Scoops Ahoy together, falling hard for him when you saw how kind he was to the kids he watched over, knowing he wasn’t the same selfish guy you’d known in high school. Steve Harrington was selfless, brave and caring and as you looked into his caramel coloured eyes, all you wanted for him was to be happy because that’s what he deserved more than anything, even if it would never be with you.

“Steve…”

“Yeah?” He whispers, looking at you in a way that made your knees weak.

You knew this was your chance to tell him, the perfect night to admit your feelings but previous Valentine’s Day disasters prevented you from saying what you really wanted to, afraid Steve would have to let you down gently or worse, laugh in your face.

“You should go home and get ready for your date, I’ll lock up here.” You swallow hard as he finally removes his hand from your face, seemingly taking him out of his own thoughts.

“Oh, no I couldn’t ask you to do that.” He replies, shaking his head.

“You didn’t ask me, I offered.” You reassure, feeling guilty for how you had treated him all day.

“Are you sure?”

“I wouldn’t have suggested it if I wasn’t. The place is quiet now anyway and there’s only an hour left. Plus I’ve been looking forward to destroying all those damn decorations all day.” You joke, attempting to hide the sadness you were currently feeling from him, terrified that you’d break down in tears if he stuck around much longer.

“You’re amazing, you know that?” He grins as you playfully roll your eyes at him. “So I’ve been told.”

“Got any advice for a successful Valentine’s date?” He questions, grabbing his car keys as you let out a sarcastic laugh.

“You’re really not asking the right person. I don’t think I’ve ever had a good Valentine’s experience. Why are you so nervous anyway, you’ve been on hundreds of dates?”

“Yeah I know, but I really like this girl, like a lot. More than I’ve ever liked anybody and I really don’t want to mess this up.” He sighs and you wonder if he can hear your heart smashing into pieces.

“Wow, she must be really special.” You breathe as he nods his head looking like a schoolboy with a crush.

“Yeah, she is.” He admits and it’s like a fresh bullet to your chest.

“Well then I hope she knows how lucky she is. Any girl who can’t see what an amazing guy you are would have to be a complete idiot.” You reply honestly, almost certain you see a hint of pink in his cheeks.

“Thanks, honey.” He whispers, before walking towards the exit, the nickname causing your brain to short circuit. Honey.

“Steve?”

“Hmm?”

“Happy Valentine’s Day.”

“Happy Valentine’s Day, pretty girl.” He grins, walking out the door as you feel a tear slide down your cheek watching his car pull out of the space, taking your broken heart right along with him. A heavy sigh escapes your lips, cursing under your breath, pondering if you were really doomed to face every February fourteenth in utter misery.

The last hour of your shift had gone by quicker than expected, having no customers during the final thirty minutes, giving you plenty of time to dispose of the shitty decorations that had mocked you throughout the day. When you finished vacuuming the floor, you wondered how your friends were fairing on their dates. Had Eddie gotten through a rom com without passing out? Did Robin make it up the steps of the movie theatre without falling? Was Keith really on a date with an actual woman? Had Steve already managed to get his new girl into bed?

That last thought made you want to throw up.

At 8:50 you decided to call it a night, dreaming of your warm bed and the cheese pizza you were going to order the minute you got home, wanting nothing more than to wallow in self pity. The money had been cashed up, the shelves were organised and you figured you had earned the extra ten minutes after everything you had endured today. Once you grabbed your handbag and jacket from your locker, you did a final check of the place before clocking out, switching the open sign to closed before you shut the door behind you, turning the key in the lock and pulling the shutters down, thankful you were off for the next couple of days.

As you tossed the keys into your bag, pulling on your jacket to prepare for the short walk to your apartment, you noticed a familiar maroon BMW parked up and Steve Harrington leaning against the hood, holding a bouquet of flowers.

“Steve?”

“Hey you.” He smiles, eyes sparkling in the glow of the moonlight.

“Is everything ok?” You worry, wondering if something had happened to one of the kids or your older friends.

“Yeah, everything’s fine. Why wouldn’t it be?” Steve reassures as you let out a sigh of relief.

“Well for starters, aren’t you supposed to be on a date right now?” You quiz, confusion apparent in your tone.

“I was just waiting for her to get off work actually, I’m picking her up here.” He smirks confidently, pushing himself off of the hood.

“You’re meeting her in the Family Video parking lot? Isn’t that a bit creepy?” You tease, raising a brow at him, trying not to focus on how good he looks in a grey sweater that you’ve never seen on him before.

“Well yeah, I guess it would be a little creepy if she didn’t work there.” He jokes, hoping he’d given you enough clues to figure out the rest for yourself. When your eyes begin to widen, mouth parting as you try to speak, he knows the penny has finally dropped.

“Steve I—”

“Happy Valentine’s Day, pretty girl.” He grins, repeating the same words he'd said earlier, handing you the prettiest bunch of daisies you’ve ever seen and it’s not until his fingers brush yours that you realise it isn’t a dream. Steve Harrington was here, waiting for you.

“These are for me?” You ask, breath catching in your throat.

“Of course they are, who else would I get them for?” He teases as you try to hold back tears.

"Steve, I…I can’t believe you got me daisies. they’re so beautiful.” You smile, suddenly feeling very dizzy.

“I know I probably should have gotten you roses but I remember last summer when we took the kids to the park and you made Max and El daisy chains. You said they were your favourite.”

“You remember that?” You blush looking up at him as he nods. “I remember everything about you, honey.”

Your stomach is doing somersaults now, palms sweaty and shaking with the way he’s looking at you and it takes everything in you not to kiss him silly.

“Did Robin know about this?” You quiz, wondering if you were going to have to murder your friend tomorrow for letting you go through a shift thinking Steve was going on a date with someone else.

“Are you serious? You know she can’t keep secrets. I couldn’t take the risk that she wouldn’t telll you. Plus, I was afraid she’d never let me live it down if you rejected me.” Steve jokes, flashing his pearly whites at you. How could you ever reject him?

“I don’t understand, if Robin didn’t tell you, how did you know I had feelings for you?”

“Not to sound totally arrogant but I’m not completely stupid. I see how flustered you get around me sometimes and how jealous you get when a customer tries to flirt with me, like today. But mostly I’ve seen the way you look at me and then I knew for sure—cause it’s the same way I look at you.” He whispers, his warm hand cupping your cheek.

“And how exactly do you look at me?” You challenge, swallowing hard as his lips inch closer to yours.

“Like I’m totally crazy about you.”

#steve harrington #steve stranger things #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #king steve #steve harrington imagine #steve the hair harrington #steve harrington smut #stranger things #steve harrington fanfic #djotime #djo #joe keery #gator tillman #kurt kunkle

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astraystayyh · 9 months

Text

Photobooth

Your first date with seungmin, except he pretends he's confident when he's just as nervous as you.

You quickly go down the stairs, trying your best to steady your racing heartbeat, but it only quickens as your gaze lands on Seungmin. He's wearing a black blouse, his hair slightly tousled as if he ran his fingers through it multiple times. His face lights up once his eyes set on you.

"Hey," he smiles as he walks up to you, a single red rose in his right hand.

"Hi," you smile back, a rush of butterflies erupting in your stomach, fluttering their wings all across your body.

"You're beautiful," he compliments, eyes tracing your face over and over, drinking in each one of your features. He didn't tell you that you looked beautiful, rather that you are beautiful. As if it doesn't matter what you wear, as long as it's you.

"Thank you," you reply, a wide grin spreading across your face. "You're beautiful too."

"I know," he smiles confidently, prompting a playful eye roll from you. "Right, let's go," he abruptly says, handing you the flower and grabbing your free hand into his. His fingers seamlessly intertwine with yours, and he doesn't look at you as he starts walking, as though this is second nature to both of you. As if your heart isn't on the brink of bursting from your chest, ready to spill its emotions at his feet.

Seungmin leads you to a hidden arcade, where the next two hours quickly go by as you take turns playing the various games- and competing in them. Your stomach aches from how hard you've been laughing; joy coming naturally to you when you're with Seungmin.

You're standing in front of a claw machine- your third attempt to retrieve a frog plushie. It's kind of weirdly sewed, and the color is neon rather than pastel, but you want it still.

"Still not giving up?" Seungmin smiles, as he leans against the machine's glass. "These are a scam, the odds of you winning are very slim."

"Keep your pragmatism to yourself," you reply, inserting another coin. The allotted fifty seconds go by in a blink of an eye, and you fail once again.

"Forget it," you pout. "I'm thirsty do you want something to drink?"

"Sure, just water. Can you order? I have to go to the toilet."

"Okay," you give him a thumbs-up before heading to the register. The queue is long, since apparently, everyone around is craving something too. Fifteen long minutes go by before you finally receive your coffee order. You bought an iced americano for Seungmin too, you know he can never say no to those.

"I'm back," Seungmin drapes his arm across your shoulder, drawing you closer to him. "Here," you bring the straw to his lips and be sips from his drink diligently.

"I thought you only wanted water," you chuckle and he scrunches his nose at you.

"Fine, keep your coffee and I suppose I'll keep this," he brings out the plushie you've been dying to win.

"You got it?" you ask incredulously, taking it from his hands excitedly.

"Mm."

"But I thought these machines were a scam," you repeat his earlier words and he shrugs. "I mean they still are. But you really wanted it."

"Thank you," you murmur, pulling him into a grateful hug, your chin resting on his shoulder blade.

"Anything for you," he mumbles into your hair, his arms blanketing you in a warm embrace.

You are walking hand in hand, stomachs full from the dinner Seungmin just treated you to. He insisted on paying, and you made a mental note to buy him coffee for the next following weeks.

"Look!" you point excitedly to a photobooth on the side of the road. "Should we go in?" you propose and he nods, pulling you in.

The booth is tiny, leaving room for only one stool at the center of it. Seungmin settles on the seat, before pulling you on top of his lap. You feel a crimson red blush bloom on your face, as Seungmin fixes up the camera's setting. He seems at ease by your close proximity, and you take in a deep breath as the timer starts counting down.

You plaster a smile on your face, Seungmin's hand wrapping around your waist as you both pose, flashing a peace sign. A giggle escapes you as he gently tickles your sides. "What should we do now?" he asks.

"Let's blow a kiss to the camera," you suggest, and he shakes his head slightly, an amused smile drawn on his lips.

You pucker your mouth, blowing a flying kiss as the camera snaps a photo of the two of you. But you soon realize Seungmin isn't staring ahead- he's looking at you.

"What?" you giggle nervously, and he tucks a strand of your hair behind your ears, eyes fixated on yours. "I really like you," he confesses in a hushed tone, leaving you overwhelmed by the warmth of his body, his velvety voice and the weight of his words.

"You make me very flustered."

"So do you," he giggles sheepishly and you raise a brow at him. "Really? you've been so sure of yourself this entire date."

"Can't you feel my hands shaking?" he asks softly and sure enough, slight tremors are cursing through them. Almost imperceptible, but it's there.

"You drive me insane. I think I almost died each time you smiled at me tonight."

"That's a lot of near-deaths."

"I know," he smiles at you, but it slips away slowly as his eyes land on your lips. "Can I kiss you?"

"Yes." Your reply comes out breathless, as his warm hand cradles your cheek, beckoning you closer to him. His mouth falls perfectly on top of yours, the camera's click a mere echo to you as you lose yourself into the kiss. His cheeks are heated up under your touch, a contented sigh leaving him as your lips meet once again. And again, and again, until you lose count.

You pull apart dazed, and Seungmin places a much sweeter kiss on your forehead. "I really like you. I'm afraid of messing this up."

"You won't. I really like you too."

Seungmin buries his head in the crook of your neck, as you rub your hands softly across his back.

"What is it?" you smile and he shakes his head. "I'm malfunctioning give me a minute."

"What happened to your confident self?" you tease and he chuckles lowly, the sound traveling in your body and carving its melodies into your heart.

"Got tired of pretending."

"You don't have to. I really like you, if I hadn't made it clear."

"Yeah I don't think I will make it through the night," he sighs and you laugh loudly, pressing a kiss to his cheek. It felt comforting to know you were both just as flustered by each other's existence.

You finally get out of the booth to find the picture printed out. You and Seungmin doing a peace sign. You blowing a kiss while Seungmin stares fondly at you. You and Seungmin looking at one another. You and Seungmin lost into the kiss.

"It turned out nice," you hum and he nods, throwing his arm over your shoulder once again. "It really did."

You keep the picture safely tucked in your wallet; only taking it out to frame it in your new house with Seungmin, five years down the road.

#stray kids x you #stray kids x reader #skz x you #skz x reader #kim seungmin x reader #seungmin x reader #seungmin x you #stray kids fluff #skz fluff #seungmin fluff #stray kids imagines #skz imagines #skz scenarios #skz fanfic #kim seungmin imagines #seungmin imagines

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luvhughes43 · 4 months

Text

sweetener | jack hughes

au masterlist⭐️ (apart of the journalist! au)

the previous part is linked here !

word count: 5.8k

⋆ ★

Three hurried knocks sound out from my front door and I rush out into the entry way as if whoever is behind that door will dissipate at a moment's notice. Of course I know that wouldn't happen, because Jack Hughes is standing on the other side of my door and all week he’s been updating me on his schedule and when he’d be able to meet our daughter.

He’s been saying that a lot, our daughter. Which, he’s right. Leighton is our daughter but the word our feels so completely foreign to me that my mind reels and my heart races every time I hear him say it. Which is another thing, because Jack is a serial texter and yet, every night this past week without fail he’s called me to talk. He’s completely committed to being a father, and now that the paternity test came back telling us what we already know, Jack is coming to meet Leighton. Our daughter.

Jack knocks again, and I quickly comb through my hair with my fingers before slowly opening the door.

“Hey,” Jack waves awkwardly, unsure of what to do when you’re about to meet your secret baby for the first time. We both shuffle around my entryway awkwardly, before I gesture for Jack to sit on my couch.

“Do you want water or anything to drink?” I ask lamely, twisting a lone baby blanket that was sprawled across the back of the couch in my hands. Jack shakes his head and then rubs his sweaty palms on his jeans.

What were you supposed to say to someone who was meeting their baby for the first time? Somebody that you had so much history with? Somebody who, despite everything that happened, still has a prominent place in your heart? You wouldn’t know.

Jack opens his mouth, before quickly shutting it again.

“I’ll go get Leighton,” I nod dumbly, as if that wasn’t the whole reason that we were both here. I’m not normally this awkward around Jack but… under the circumstances any sort of social queues I know have gone right out of the window. I don't let Jack reply before I shuffle out of the room.

Leighton is dressed in a pink one piece onesie which was a gift from Jack’s mother, Ellen. Who for the last week has been texting me and sending things over to the apartment.

As soon as Jack hears my footsteps, he's rushing to his feet and facing us. “Oh wow…” he murmurs as soon as he lays eyes on our daughter. “This is so much better than the pictures and videos…” he trails off again, referring to the numerous videos I've sent him of our daughter this past week.

“Do you want to hold her?” I ask, to which Jack immediately nods. I gesture for him to sit back down on the couch and he happily obliges.

“She’s gorgeous,” Jack awes as I shift Leighton to rest into his arms. I’m not surprised that I don’t have to tell Jack how to hold a baby properly, he’s always been so well versed with children. Even when we were dating babies and kids just seemed to gravitate towards him, making it easy for him to handle kids.

Tears rush to Jack’s waterline as he holds his daughter for the first time. He doesn’t bother to wipe them away as they freely run down his cheeks. “I have a baby,” he whispers, gaze soft as he stares at our little girl. “Hi Leighton,” he says again, voice slightly louder as he tries to get the young girl's attention. She smiles up at him gummily, before reaching a chubby hand out and latching onto one of her dad’s fingers.

I silently pull my phone out of my pocket and capture the sweet moment between the two. I had imagined this moment for months, but no dream would ever compare to what was sitting before me. Jack softly cooing at our daughter, completely in awe of her would be something that I would never forget.

⋆ ★

When Jack looks back on the past year, he can’t help but wince. If he was more mature maybe he wouldn’t have let you walk away so easily - maybe he would have seen through Vivienne's deceptions and would have realized that he wasn’t truly happy with her. After meeting his daughter and getting to spend time with you in person today he made a promise to himself that he would do better for himself and for his family.

His family. Whom he had just fully met a few hours ago and yet his happiness still hadn’t slowed or ebbed away yet. It was all so incredibly surreal.

“Like I'm telling you, that was the most.. Like the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” Jack spoke hurriedly on the phone to his older brother Quinn. “I have a daughter, and she’s real, and I held her today,”

“That’s really great,”

“She grabbed a hold of my finger! She has a really good grip, probably going to be better than all of us at hockey,” Quinn only laughed in response.

“When can I meet her?” he asked.

“I don’t know, I'll have to talk to y/n about everything. We’re taking it slow right now you know? Just trying to get me comfortable with the baby and all that,” Jack answers, excitement still laced in his voice. “Mom sent Leighton some things though which… Leighton… What a pretty name? Like I have a daughter”

“I’m really happy everything's starting to work out for you,” Quinn responded. After all the dramatics of the past few weeks, the future was finally starting to brighten.

“Thank you,” Jack replied honestly, mind still reeling from the day's events. “I have a family.”

⋆ ★

ynuser

liked by jackhughes, claudia, and others

ynuser my whole world🤍

jackhughes added to their story !

⋆ ★

“Are you okay? Why are you smiling so hard?” my best friend said to me as I finished doing my makeup.

“What? I’m fine!”

“No seriously, what’s going on?” Claudia continues, easily seeing past my poorly constructed lies.

“Jack’s coming over to see Leighton tonight,” I can’t help the smile on my face as it grows. Jack’s coming over. How long have I waited to say that? Now that this whole mess is behind us, we’ve really started to carve out a routine for ourselves. Jack would make the trip to NYC as much as he could within his schedule, and he’d come over and spend time with Leighton and I. Everything is finally starting to fall into place, and so sue me for getting a little excited that he had the whole evening free to spend time with Leighton and I.

Claudia rolled her eyes, “You’re moving fast,”

At her words, my forehead scrunches. I don’t like the way she said it, moving fast, it sounds like she disapproves of Jack and I starting to co-parent.

“Well, we already have a kid together so I think it’s a little too late for ‘moving fast’” I remark, busying myself in my makeup bag so she doesn’t see the clear displeasure coating my features.

Claudia studies me for a minute and I wish she wouldn't. I understand that Jack’s and I’s situation is completely out of the ordinary and that we were childish and immature before. But honestly, how else are we supposed to go about this situation if not barrel straight ahead? We waited for him to meet Leighton until the paternity was settled, we created a clear schedule for his visits and we’ve spent hours discussing how we would go about co-parenting.

“Nothing I guess,” she shrugs simply. I reach for my powdered blush and messily reapply.

It’s tense for the next five minutes it takes for me to finish my makeup.

“Well, how “fast” should we be going? Because, I know I'm trying the best that I can here. We have a history, and we have a baby, so i’m sorry if you think things seem to be going “too fast” for you,”

“You're right, I'm sorry” Claudia immediately apologizes, probably not realizing how her words had offended me earlier.

Ever since Jack started making a reappearance in my life Claudia’s had an attitude about it… always wanting to sprinkle little comments here and there. I get that she’s overprotective, but she takes it too far with Jack. It wasn’t his fault that he wasn’t here for my pregnancy and the first few months of Leighton’s life.

“I’m sorry,” I sigh. “Things have been… nice recently and I just need this to work out.”

Claudia nods in understanding, and it makes me want to take my apology back.

When Jack comes over two hours later, any sense of annoyance or stress I was feeling immediately dissipates. We do our usual, watch over Leighton and play with her. She’s only a few months old and so there’s not much that she can do yet besides smile and play peek-a-boo, which I'm learning Jack excels at.

“And… peek-a-boo!” the hockey player enthuses for what seemed like the hundredth time that evening to an excited baby. Leighton face scrunches up as she lets out another round of loud laughs, which immediately causes Jack and I to giggle.

“We have the cutest kid!”

“We really do,” Jack replies, eyes trained on our daughter who's smiling up at him. I leave the two to play as I make my way into my kitchen. It’s already getting quite late and since Jack’s keeping Leighton entertained… I might as well make dinner before he has to leave and I have to watch over her again. She always gets fussy closer to her bedtime, making it essentially impossible to cook dinner before she’s asleep.

I pull out all of my necessary ingredients before pausing. “Jack?”

“What?” he calls out.

“Are you staying for dinner? I’m making pasta” I respond, walking back into the living room so we don't have to yell.

“Ohh can I? I’ve missed your cooking so much,”

He missed my cooking… it was such a simple task and yet my heart melted… There was so much we seemed to be missing of each other these days.

Dinner coincidentally ends up being ready just as soon as Jack finishes putting Leighton to bed.

“It’s crazy to think that we’re parents,” Jack voices his thoughts aloud in between bites of his dinner. “Like, really. Were mother and father… like that's insane,”

“Are you having doubts?” I joke, knowing that he’s fully committed to being a father. His amazon cart alone proves that with all the toys and outfits he has ordered for our daughter.

“No never! Are you kidding me? Being with you two… it feels right,”

I giggle and end up having to cover my mouth with my hands.

“What?”

“I’m sorry that was just really cute,” I explain myself, lowering my hands so that Jack could see my wide smile which he immediately reciprocates with his usual gorgeous smile.

Jack leans his head on the palm of his hand, and things finally feel like they used to. If I wanted to I could reach my hand out and hold his, but just knowing that he was here was enough. For so many months I wished that what I was seeing now would become true and now everything had finally turned out.

“I’m really happy y/n”

“I’m really happy too,” my face tingles, but unlike my smile I make no move to cover the redness that was no doubt coating my cheeks.

⋆ ★

Now that I am back from maternity leave, it seems like my boss is trying to punish me. I’m constantly getting all of the shitty news stories, and I've been getting less opportunities to get out on the field. Therefore, I've been stuck in the office all day writing fluff pieces about influencers and brands that “you need in your life!”.

So, when I got the call that there was an important story that I could work on but it would mean I had to come into the office on my day off… well… I was going into the office.

Now usually I had somebody to watch Leighton on the days that I work, but there was just no way that I would be able to find somebody to watch her on such a short notice. So, I did the only thing that I could think of and asked Jack if he was willing to watch Leighton by himself… for the first time.

The day started out simply enough. Jack had come over to y/n's apartment early with breakfast and some coffee for the both of them. He listened dutifully to y/n explaining Leightons morning routine, and he prepared the baby a fresh bottle with no stress. Even after y/n had left for work, Jack had been running the place smoothly and without any hiccups. Which is why around mid-afternoon when Leighton refused her bottle that Jack had panicked.

“Okay, please just eat. I know you're hungry,” he cooed to the small girl who was cradled tightly against his chest. She squirmed, tears running down her face at a rapid speed.

He had rocked Leighton, burped her, walked around the apartment with her bundled in his arms all in hopes of her quieting down. When nothing worked he had checked her diaper, changed it although it was clean, and warmed up her bottle again in case that may have been the issue. She continued on wailing.

“Please Leighton, eat for daddy please. Settle down, it's okay!” He tried his hardest but nothing was working. He debated on calling his parents but ultimately thought it was pathetic that he didn’t know how to take care of his own child. He had missed out on so many months with his girl, what if he fucked today up and was never allowed to take care of her again? Jack started to spiral.

Another painstakingly long hour went by, and Jack felt as if he had truly lost his mind. Nothing was helping Leighton settle down, and now Jack was so far behind y/ns schedule that he was feeling beyond hopeless.

“Just- okay just eat!” Jack tried again, but every time Leighton got close to the bottle she would shift her head away and cry. “I don't know how to help you!” he rocked his daughter in his arms. “Please, help me help you,”

It was to no surprise that Leighton kept crying. So Jack did the only thing that he could think of doing next, he walked swiftly to Leightons crib and left her there. Once she was confined in her crib, he simply walked out of her room and back into the living room where he fished his headphones out of his bag.

Jack's shoulders sagged in relief when the first few chords of some country song played.

I’m not a good dad

I don’t know what to do

How am I supposed to be a father?

After two more songs played in their entirety, Jack called his mom.

“Are you okay…?” I ask as soon as I catch sight of Jack whose shoulders were sagging.

“Listen, everyone has already asked me that tonight so I don't need to hear it again. you don’t need to lecture me”

“Excuse me? I don’t even know what’s wrong?” “It was my first time watching my daughter, and I fucked up, I know”

“Jack… I'm not mad at you?”

“Right, whatever” he says, gathering all his belongings that were scattered throughout my apartment and stuffing them in his bag.

I stare at him in confusion, “Can we talk about this?”

Jack continues stuffing shit in his bag, and I walk towards him and place a firm hand on his shoulder. He shrugs it off, twisting towards me. “I don't want to talk about it,”

I scoff, patience truly wiening thin. “Well, I’m Leighton’s mother and I would like to talk about what happened”

“I can’t do this with you tonight” Jack sighs, running a hand through his messy hair.

“Do what? Communicate?”

“Look, i’ve had a rough week at work and i’ve been a shit dad tonight so I really don’t need to hear you bitch at me right now”

“What the fuck is wrong with you? Don’t talk to me like that.”

“Like what!” Jack says defensively.

“Saying I'm going to bitch at you! I want us to talk through things. You getting upset over a few minor mistakes isn’t going to get us anywhere. Leighton is fine, you’re fine, so tell me what’s really going on so that we can get past this”

Jack scoffs, “there's nothing going on”

“Well, you’re being all rude and defensive so there must be something” I snark, truly fed up with Jack’s behaviour. I understand that today was a lot for him, and maybe it wasn’t the best idea for him to watch Leighton for a full day when he’s only used to a few hours but he can at least try and speak nicely to me.

“You know what? I don’t need this right now” Jack says, breaking his stance and making quick steps towards the door.

I’m hot on his heels and he yanks the door open. “Jack?”

He slams the door, and i’m left reeling with whatever the fuck just happened.

⋆ ★

3 weeks later...

DEUXMOI

liked by vivienne, and others

deuxmoi Jack Hughes seems to be a topic of demand recently…. But don’t worry! Viviennes new podcast episode will cover everything you need to know and more! Stay tuned

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user19 vivienne sending her own “tip” into deuxmoi just so she can get views on her new podcast episode… deuxmoi hits a new low every day

user20 this is actually so embarrassing omg

user21 nhl players on deuxmoi is my worst nightmare tbh

user22 theyve been on here for awhile lol its nothing new

user23 ohhhh i’ll be tuned in!

user23 he definitely cheated on her omgggg😭😭

⋆ ★

Pretty Girls Podcast EP 22: Mr. NHL Man

[audio] timestamp: 24:33 - 1:13:03

Co-host: Okay maybe we should address the elephant in the room!

Vivienne: The elephant in the room? I’m crying… [laughs], but yes everybody is here to know about my ex-boyfriend situation so let's just get into it

Co-host: Right so…

Vivienne: Okay so Jack Hughes!

[both laugh]

Co-host: Oh we're just coming right out and saying it!

Vivienne: I mean everybody knows

Co-host: Right, so let's get into it. What's the story? Because you’ve only told me parts of the story but I don't-

Vivienne: I haven't really gone into detail with anybody yet so this is like, an exclusive

Vivienne: But anyway… as we all know… Jack and I were seeing each other for a while and we were pretty official by the time I did the podcast with Alix Earle. So there was this whole bit of Alix calling her boyfriend “mr. nfl man” and so I teased Jack by calling him Mr. NHL man.

Co-host: Right as one does! And I just want to add, Vivienne and Jack were - you guys were kind of serious at this point. Like your relationship wasn’t just a fling like there’s a reason you're talking about it on the pod.

Vivienne: Yeah we were fully dating by that point. Like he was staying over at my apartment and things like that.

Co-host: How did you guys get together? You should tell the whole story, like I'm already sensing the hate comments you’ll get if you don’t tell this right.

Vivienne: Okay. So, I met Jack through a mutual friend of ours and that's how we started talking. We went on a few dates to bars and things, and we really got along well, or at least I thought we did.

Co-host: Were there any warning signs?

Vivienne: Honestly…

Vivienne: Things were really good between us and we had a “normal” relationship for the first few months. Like we got together around the beginning of the hockey season, and we broke up like, right before he went on personal leave if you guys keep up with the NHL side of things.

Vivienne: But basically we were doing completely fine and it wasn’t until people started catching on that Jack and I were dating that things became rocky.

Co-host: I've also seen a lot of things about an ex that he had? Like I'm just going to come out and say it, did he cheat on you?

Vivienne: Honestly, till this day I don't really know.

Co-host: What? What do you mean?

Vivienne: He didn't tell me why we broke up. Like, I'm being so serious. One day he came over to my apartment and just broke up with me and then unfollowed me on everything.

Co-host: Oh my god??

Vivienne: Honestly, I think it's because of his ex. Like, the amount of times I caught him searching through his photo albums of her is insane.

Co-host: What an asshole oh my god?? Do you know if they got back together or if they were talking while you two were still together?

Vivienne: No they weren’t talking

Co-host: How do you know?

Vivienne: I uh…

Co-host: Did you go through his texts or something?

Vivienne: Well… [short pause].. No I didn’t- well- I know he wasn’t

Co-host: Okay…

Vivienne: But it was clear there was something going on there [weak laugh]

Co-host: Damn…

Vivienne: But anyway, he broke up with me unexpectedly and I just don't know why

Co-host: To be honest it sounds like he cheated on you and just didn't want to own up to it.

Vivienne: Yeah… I mean possibly. The ex thing was..

Co-host: He was just using you as a distraction and that really sucks for you.

Vivienne: It's just an awful situation. Like it was clear that he was still hung up on his ex and now I look like an idiot in front of everyone for making our relationship public.

Co-host: I don't think you look like an idiot. You thought the relationship was going to work out and now people are flooding your comment section begging to know what happened. Plus, it's Jack's fault anyway. Like he's no stranger to cheating allegations so what are you supposed to do?

Vivienne: Yeah… my dms are full of his fans basically blaming me for the breakup when they don't even know what happened.

Vivienne: So, I just want it to be clear that I did nothing. Like I didn't want us to break up.

Co-host: Even though you knew about the ex?

Vivienne: Yeah… I just felt so… like our relationship was really good I think I would have put up with anything. But now that it’s over i'm stuck looking back and… well it’s clear he maybe wasn’t always faithful or he had commitments with his ex.

Co-host: Gosh…

Vivienne: But that's honestly it. After this episode is over I'm not talking about this. It's honestly really hurtful…

[end of snippet]

⋆ ★

“y/n i’m so sorry,” Jack's words are fast as he paces the floor of my entryway. He had a game in a few hours which he would no doubt be late for, seeing as he’s all the way in New York City instead of Newark.

“What are you doing here? You have a game?” I wonder aloud, Leighton softly cooing from her spot on my chest.

Jack pauses at the sound of his daughter and his eyes visibly soften. “I’m really sorry,”

“I wasn’t mad at you,”

“I’m just afraid to mess things up again,”

“Jack…”

“And I'm sorry for snapping at you. It wasn’t your fault that I got upset,”

I walk towards Jack and place a comforting hand on his arm, mindful of our daughter that was strapped to my front.

“I should have stayed,” he says into my hair, his arm coming around to hold onto me.

I turn my body to hold him properly, and Leighton babbles away as she’s wedged between her parents. “You were overwhelmed. You're not used to watching her all the time and that’s okay,”

“I should be okay watching her while you’re at work I just-”

“You have to be kind to yourself,” I start, slowly pulling yourself away from Jack to lead the two of us into the living room. “It took me a long time to learn Leightons needs and how to read her. With more time you’ll learn and become more comfortable,”

Jack nods reluctantly, ultimately realizing that what I was saying was the truth. We sit in silence for a while, both wanting nothing more than to move on from this situation.

“Come to my game tonight?” Jack breaks the silence. “You and Leighton? Please?”

“You want us to come… tonight?” I question. Was this a good idea?

Jack nods and takes Leighton out of my hands. “I think she should come to her first game,”

“Okay….” I’m slow to agree. When Jack and I were dating, I barely went to his games. He never really invited me, and I had always felt weird about asking. With our relationship so private, we usually just appreciated each other’s careers from afar.

Jack looks away from our daughter and back up at me, “I've talked to management about our… situation and they’re okay with you sitting in the box with Nico since he’s out” Jack explains. “It’ll be completely safe, and if you're worried about the drive to the stadium I’ve got my car and I can drive you”

“What about afterwards?”

“I can drive you back here after the game or you can stay at my place… I've… i've bought a bassinet for Leighton and some things if you guys want to stay the night,”

“Okay,” I agree easily now. “Let me pack some of our stuff and we’ll stay with you tonight,”Jack looks beyond relieved at my words.

njdevils

Liked by jackhughes, _quinnhughes, trevorzegras, and others

njdevils Jack is back and meeting some fans 🔥

tagged: jackhughes

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jackhughes ❤️

_quinnhughes Love to see it

user24 jack and quinns comments… okay….

user25 jack is such a girl dad ugh! so cute!

user26 jack would be such a good dad im crying

user27 hold on is that his ex gf?? she looks like the same girl from the fan pics

user28 omfg wait???

⋆ ★

nhl.drama

liked by hughesl0ver43, and 351 others

nhl.drama jack hughes ex gf, vivienne aiden, reveals in her podcast that jack seemingly broke up with her for no reason. she also claims that he would constantly look at pictures of his ex gf while they were together, and he may have possibly cheated. what are your thoughts?💭

#jackhughes #nhl #vivienneaiden #confession #nhldrama

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user29 this is honestly just ridiculous like she clearly made this all up

user30 ? what how do u know

user29 she kept rambling on, couldn't confirm if Jack cheated or not, and just started bringing up his ex gf? And also, if she really didn’t know why he broke up with her/would still go back to him.. why would she make a whole podcast about it? it fr doesn't make sense

user31 They said Jack has a history of cheating? How would they even know that i’m so confused

user32 viv was his ex lmao im sure somebody warned her about him.

user33 i think it’s so weird that some of u guys are sticking up for jack… like vivienne sounded so sad / upset during the podcast… like he obviously did something wrong regardless of if shes telling the truth or not.

user34 she did not sound upset at all… she was legit laughing throughout the whole podcast and she could not make up her mind on which “story” she was gonna tell. she clearly lied and i hope jack sues her ass🤷‍♀️

user35 the timeline of this whole thing is so interesting tbh. like what ex are they talking about? also, i wish viv confirmed why jack took a personal leave lol. she left out all the interesting bits

user36 “ex gf” …. do yall think it was the girl from last year ? istg they refollowed each other after vivienne and jack broke up

user37 this whole drama is so lame IMO. just another girl looking for her 5 seconds of fame… nobody should care if jack cheated or not because his job is to play HOCKEY. honestly who gaf about his personal life

user38 his personal life is bleeding into his game lol.

user39 LEAVE HIM ALONE MY GOD!!!!! U KNOW NOTHING.

⋆ ★

Vivienne's podcast episode about her breakup with Jack had gone viral overnight. Everybody online was speculating about their relationship, as well as trying to prove each side right. Some of Jack's fans were trying hard to prove that Vivienne was lying and well, gossipers around the world were sticking up for Vivienne and trying to confirm that Jack is a serial cheater.

Thankfully for Vivienne, she just had to sit back and enjoy the show. She knew that there was absolutely no way that Jack would come out and deny the cheating rumours, plus she knew y/n was private on everything and wouldn't come forward either. The drama would run its course for a few days until something better came along, and then Vivienne would be completely off the hook for everything.

Alix E: just watched the pod! i hope you’re doing well❤️

Tana M: HE CHEATED ON YOU?? that's actually crazy. youre so fucking pretty. ugh, men are awful. If you ever wanna come on the cancelled podcast you're always welcome!

Alex C: Men are the worsttttt. Youre absolutely winning life though so make him regret it!💋

Everything seemed to be falling right into the palm of Viviennes hands. While Jack finding out about the whole y/n thing was a colossal nightmare, the support from her peers almost made up for it. She now had deals lining up the block, and she knew her career would only sky rocket from here on out.

While being with Jack had pulled in massive numbers, the breakup was just insane for her social blade. She had gained soo many more followers across all platforms after posting Jack on her story, plus naming him in her podcast was just… it was honestly too good. A pr dream… It was going to be Viviennes year.

⋆ ★

As soon as the small family made it back to Jack’s apartment after the game, they were all exhausted. Leighton had fallen asleep well into the second period, and had surprisingly stayed asleep despite how loud the arena was.

Jack quietly guided his girls into his bedroom. He set Leighton in her bassinet, and then helped me organize some of the things I brought over.

“I haven’t been here in so long,” I mumbled as I pulled my toiletries out of her bag.

“Well you're always welcome,” Jack whispered back as he silently watched me fumble around in the darkness.

“Shit, I forgot pyjama pants and all I have are jeans…”

Jack immediately stands from his position in bed, mindful of the fact that Leighton is peacefully sleeping in the recently purchased bassinet. “You can have a pair of my sweats if you want?” he whispers as he walks over to his dresser and pulls out options.

“It’s okay,”

“I’m not letting you sleep in jeans that's foul,” Jack says quietly as he gives me a pair of his sweats.

“Thank you,” my face heats up. If I wasn’t thinking about our history before, now I am. Everything was becoming a little too much… if I closed her eyes I could still picture the way things used to be. How we’d stay in his apartment and well… yeah.

Jack turned away just then, settling himself in his bed so that I could finish getting ready. He hadn’t thought too far ahead in their sleeping arrangements, and just as he started to worry that y/n might’ve found her way to the couch he felt a dip in his mattress.

“Do you mind if…?”

“No I uh- No I don’t” Jack stuttered, completely caught off guard by their newfound closeness.

“Thanks for tonight,” I whispered, snuggling into all of Jack’s blankets and excess pillows, all of which were bought when we were still together.

“No worries,”

“I mean it though. Thanks for talking to me in person earlier and for driving us to the game” I continued sleepily. “And for letting us stay here tonight,”

“Of course. Anything for my girls,”

When there was no answer, Jack looked over to y/n's side of the bed only to find that she was already fast asleep. He checked the bassinet afterwards to find his daughter sleeping peacefully as well. Jack sighed in contentment before drifting off to sleep himself.

My girls,

My girls..

Life was sweet.

next part

#journalist au!#jack hughes x reader #jack hughes fic #jack hughes imagine #jack hughes blurb #nhl imagine #nhl fanfiction #nhl blurb #nhl fic #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes fic

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octuscle · 2 months

Note

Hey there! I'm having a debate with my roommate and wondering if you can help settle it. He says that if you gave someone the body of a jock, without any mental changes, they'll eventually start acting like a jock anyway. I don't think that's true. Just because you have muscles and look like a jock doesn't mean you'll start acting like one, right? We were thinking of trying to set up an experiment for our honor's thesis and wanted your input, thanks!

Are you really sure you want to go through with it? We are happy to do it. I'll create a preset for you that only changes your body. But really. 1.90 m tall. 140 kg of pure muscle mass. But everything else stays the same. To be honest, you don't look like you're ready for it. But it's up to you. I can only recommend that you are in a safe and, above all, unobserved place when you activate the preset.

You take a deep breath. You stand naked in the middle of your room. Next to you, you have laid out a pair of tracksuit bottoms, a tank top, a jockstrap, a pair of socks and a pair of sneakers. You can only hope that the clothes will fit your new self. 3. 2. 1. enter!

Wow! Holy shit! Now that was quick and without a transition. You look down at the floor from a slightly greater height. And when you look down, all you see are pecs. Fucking huge pecs. You need a mirror. Phew! Very slowly! The new body works a little differently than the old one… Your center of gravity is much higher up. You stand in front of the mirror. This no longer has anything to do with you. It's more Greek demigod than human. Your cock is getting hard. A huge cock that fits this huge body. You never wank. Especially not in the middle of your room. But now you have to. Not for long. And a huge load lands on the mirror and the floor. Yes, I've changed a few details apart from the height and muscle mass. You've already noticed one thing. You'll notice the others too.

You're convinced that the new body won't change anything. So you act as you always have. First of all, you clean up the mess. You are manically clean and tidy. Then you put on your clothes. The shoes are a bit tight, but otherwise everything fits pretty well. So off you go to the library. After all, your honors thesis isn't going to write itself.

Iris and Rita at the information desk didn't recognize you when you greeted them. They looked at you as if you were an alien when you wished them a good morning. You sat down at your regular place in the library. You like routines. You started working on your thesis outline when Vincent came over. Vincent always sits three tables behind you. Nice guy, similarly obsessive as you. He clears his throat and says that you can't sit here, the seat is taken. Actually, you should have said something along the lines of "Vincent, don't you recognize me, it's me!". But somehow you can't help it. You have to try it out. You cross your muscular arms behind your head, look deep into his eyes and just ask who cares. Vincent retreats like a beaten dog. Three minutes later, you have a WhatsApp message: "There's some stupid musclehead sitting in your seat!" You reply that it's okay, you're not on campus for a few days for empirical studies anyway.

But you're not as productive as usual. Your new body is keeping you busier than you thought. It feels so good to tense your muscles. Your hard cock is constantly leaking precum and is always half stiff. Shit, after an hour you have to jerk off. Fuck, you make quite a mess in the toilet. You try to clean everything up with toilet paper. When you come out of the stall, a student is standing at the urinal, looking at you and wanking. Get out of here quickly, you think to yourself.

The incident is definitely worth recording. After all, you've never experienced this before. But it was hot. As you type out your thoughts, your stomach begins to growl. So loud that Vicent hisses "Pssst". It's actually too early for lunch. But the canteen is about to open. So you're one of the first in the queue. You can hardly wait. And you heap heaps of food onto your tray. You're so hungry.

The weather is good, you sit down at a table in the sun and, ignoring all the table manners, you wolf down your food. Suddenly you hear a voice shouting "Hey, guys, there are empty seats here with the big boy!" You look up. A couple of idiots from the football team are standing at your table. "Dude, okay if we join you?" asks one of the guys, who seems to be some kind of leader. "Sure thing," you say with your mouth full, spitting a bit of your chicken across the table. "Cool," he replies, giving you a fist bump, which you return somewhat hesitantly and also a little awkwardly. And before you know it, you're sitting in a cloud of sweat, testosterone and stupid comments.

You start talking to the boys more for scientific reasons. They ask if you're Fresman because they've never seen you before. You say that you're actually studying somewhere else, but you're here to work on your Honor's thesis. The leader spits his Coke across the table. "Fuck, dude! You already have a degree? In what? Lifting iron?" Everyone laughs. Very loudly. You too. It's actually really funny with the boys…

The boys go to the gym after lunch. I wonder if you're coming too. You don't even think about it. You just say that you haven't got anything to change into. Everyone laughs and asks if anyone is interested. So you go along. It's a field study, you think to yourself. You're observing everything very closely. You don't want to attract negative attention. The processes seem very simple. You copy what you see the boys doing. You even enjoy it. You work up a sweat. You forget the time. The others are gone at some point. You're still here. You look in the mirror. Your long, sweaty hair falls across your forehead. Your friends all have much shorter hair. It's also more practical when working out. You look at your watch. Shit!!!!! You have to get your stuff from the library before it closes. Trevor, sitting at the information desk, doesn't recognize you either. It's already very empty when you pack up your things. Vincent is still there, mumbling something about how antisocial it is to occupy a space you're not using. You don't know why you're doing this now. But you go to him very slowly. You press his face into your armpit. And say that you had more important things to do. Shit, Vincent is seriously licking the sweat out of your armpit hair now? Pathetic little fucker, your new friends would say now. You're far too surprised. By you. By him. Slightly disturbed, you go home. You throw yourself on your bed and think about your first day as a jock. You fall asleep.

You are actually a person who is always well prepared. But you are amazed at how little you have prepared for this experiment. You have a combination to wear. It's still sweaty after yesterday's workout. But you don't have anything else. So this morning you're not going to the library, but to the paint shop. Shopping. A pair of sweatshorts, a few tank tops, socks and jockstraps, sneakers. A bit of compression gear for training. You pass a barbershop. There are a couple of guys inside who are obviously no strangers to the gym either. Fuck it, you think. Down with the long hair!

You haven't been in the library this late in a long time. Vincent has blocked your seat for you. With a few protein bars. Cute! He winks at you when you come in. You raise your arm and smell your armpit. Shit, you haven't showered! Fuck… Well, maybe the little prick will like that even more…

By lunchtime with the boys, you at least want to have logged yesterday and this morning. And you're looking for some literature on the connection between mind and body. Most of it is ancient. Nothing has been published on the subject for a long time. And if there is, it's more about the effect of the state of mind on the body. Less often on the effect of the body on the state of mind. That's obvious, because normally a genius like you doesn't acquire a body overnight…

The lunch break with the boys was cool. The guys are just very chilled, you like that. No highbrow topics. Just sport, fucking and partying. Unfortunately, a lot of football too. You have no idea about that. After lunch, the boys want to throw some balls on the lawn. You have to go to a colloquium later. And Luke said that you should finally replace those nerdy glasses with contact lenses. The visit to the optician was a good excuse not to embarrass yourself at football.

A whole day without going to the gym sucks! That's why you got up early today. You didn't do your thesis assignments yesterday, nor did you get your muscles burning. That has to change. Shit, you're still struggling with your contact lenses. But it looks a thousand times better. You're screaming alpha with every trained muscle fiber. And that's great! You almost feel at home in the gym. And nobody questions your position. In the library, Vincent provides you with everything you need. He fetches books for you and takes them away again. He has also already offered to help you with your work. What a loser! You don't need to order anything in the canteen after just two days. Your extra large portion of extra protein-rich food is prepared especially for you. Twice. You come once when the canteen opens. And once just before it closes. Your body is a machine. And this machine needs fuel. Lots of fuel.

You sit in the library and document the developments of the last few days. It really is only a few days. Reading through the last few lines almost makes you nauseous. Has your body replaced your mind so quickly? You need to get a grip on yourself. You did your Master's with distinction. You're working on your honor's thesis. You have a chance of getting a professorship at your old college. And you suddenly prefer to spend more time in the gym or with the airheads on the football team? You make a plan. Two hours of gym in the morning, two hours break with the bros at lunchtime, two hours of gym in the evening. And in between, focus on your thesis and your studies. It shouldn't be that difficult. You're an intelligent and disciplined man. So let's get going!

You have made every effort. And you actually come to the conclusion in your thesis that the body of a jock does not automatically lead to the mind of a stupid, arrogant and superficial jock. You have fun with both. Training in the gym and hanging out with the bros. And working scientifically and researching the human psyche. But in a lecture you realize that it's not you who changes, it's your environment that changes you. Since you got this body three weeks ago, no one has spoken to you about your studies. Vincent, who you thought was intellectual through and through, just wants you to let him lick your armpits in the evening. Your bros didn't even ask you what you were studying. And then the day comes when you attend your doctoral supervisor's lecture. Since your transformation, you've only spoken or written on the phone. You sit in the front row. You appreciate your doctoral supervisor for his liberal political views, his rhetorical skills and his incredible knowledge. At the end of his lecture, he looks at you. And asks if the young man, who unfortunately was unable to dress appropriately, understood a word of what he had just said. He assumes you were mistaken in the lecture hall. But if you invest your energy in your biceps and not your brain, that's to be expected.

First you think about whether you are saying anything particularly intelligent. To express your indignation at his insolence. To justify yourself. But then you think about what has been really fun in the last few weeks. And who you really had fun with. And you answer "Nah, professor dude! Dat wuz alot of words n stff u sed. I dnt thnk I need all dat for my degree as a personal trainer. wdut, bro?" You make your pecs dance. The lecture hall laughs. You stand up. Fuck the honor's thesis!

You started studying sports economics again. You also work as a trainer in a fitness studio. And you have a pretty successful YouTube fitness channel. You recently received a call from your old doctoral supervisor. He read through the draft of your honor's thesis again. It was all very promising. Why did you drop out? You say that you obviously have to choose between brains and brawn at some point. And you're grateful to him for helping you decide. And with that you hang up.

#male tf #muscle tf #chronivac #inked man #ai image #tank top

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nyctophicbtch · 1 year

Text

The Songcord - Neteyam

[ Neteyam x Omatikaya!reader ]

Request: Can I request a Neteyam x Omaticaya!reader

Author’s note: I recommend listening to From Darkness to Light, The Spirit Tree, and The Songcord if you have tissues prepared

Warnings: angst, mentions of blood, death

Word Count: 3,101

“Feels like I haven’t been here in ages,” you muttered, hands brushing the glowing strands of the tree of voices. Kiri and Tuk were already immersed in their own worlds, not hearing a thing you were saying. Spider was out exploring on his own, eyeing the sky, the flowers, the tree, and basically everything else.

“Better make the most of it then,” Lo’ak replied, attaching his queue to a strand.

Neteyam was standing near the bark, and it looked like he wasn’t going to join them any time soon, so you followed Lo’ak and did the same.

It had been a while since you’d done this, or had been anywhere near the tree at all. Although there were plenty of excuses to use, you knew you were just scared of what you’d see.

It was moments like these, where you’d hear and see your actual parents, that made you afraid. You had been fighting so long to earn your place here with the Sully’s.

Even though you started off wanting to befriend the family of the person who insisted on becoming your friend, it’d grown into something deeper over time. And every time you looked back to your parents whenever you visited the tree made you realize that you could never have what you actually wanted.

The feeling overwhelmed you, screamed at you until the bond was forcefully broken and you were thrown back off your balance. You didn’t know what was happening, but you could somehow make out Lo’ak’s muffled yelling over your blurry vision and ringing ears.

“Neteyam!”

“What happened?”

“I don’t know!”

“Move!” You felt hands grasping your shoulders, but you were too caught up on trying to breathe to see who it was. It felt like the air was sucked out of you and none of your senses were working properly. “Hey, it’s okay. We’re here.”

There was no coherent thought on what was going on, but you could feel the thumb gently rubbing small circles on your shoulder.

“Shh. You’re okay,” Neteyam whispered, leaning his forehead to yours.

Your shallow breaths slowly returned to normal, and you started to make sense of what was happening. You could start to feel the numbing of your legs from the uncomfortable position, and you could see Lo’ak’s worried gaze on you. You started to hear Neteyam’s comforting words clearer and feel the way he was holding you.

You heard the sigh of relief Lo’ak released when you felt yourself calming down and Spider running towards you, closing your eyes to let yourself succumb to Neteyam’s comforting hold.

He kept his eyes closed and forehead pressed against yours for as long as you’d like to assure you that he wasn’t going anywhere. It was only when you felt the numbing of your legs begin to worsen when you pulled away, finally looking at your surroundings.

Kiri and Tuk were still engrossed in their memories and it looked like they did not witness the scene that had just unfold beside them, much to your relief. You didn’t know how you’d explain this to the cheery child.

“Hey, you okay? What was that?” Spider questioned.

“I don’t know.”

They all decided to leave you to yourself and give you time to think, well except Lo’ak who wasn’t going to let it slide that easily.

“What did you see?” he asked as he sat down beside you, leaning his head against a tree.

“The usual.”

“Then why did-“ Lo’ak stopped himself with a sigh before he could interrogate you any further. “Don’t leave me hanging for too long. Talk when you’re ready.”

“Yeah. Of course.”

“Guys, it’s dark out we need to get back.” You heard Kiri call out from a distance.

“You were the one that took so long,” Lo’ak replied as he stood up, offering a hand to you for support.

“Let’s go, children.” Neteyam rallied everyone, placing a hand on Tuk’s back when she almost lost her balance.

You all ran back from the way you came, anxiousness gripping at each one of you when you saw the sky completely dark, the only thing lighting it up were the stars and moons.

But there was no room to worry about curfew when all you could think about was what had happened back there. Everything happened so fast you could barely process it.

“You coming?” Neteyam’s voice pulled you from your thoughts.

You looked up to the boy waiting for you, his head turned back to face you expectantly. In a matter of seconds, you regained your senses and jumped up to the branch near him.

Maybe you didn’t really regain all of your senses after all, considering how you slipped on the moss and fell backwards. Lucky for you, Neteyam had incredible reflexes, grabbing your hand before you managed to fall. Being the Olo’eyktan in training had its perks.

“Careful.”

“Thanks,” you muttered half-heartedly.

Neteyam decided he wasn’t going to press you further on it, giving you some space for whatever is going on in your head.

The branches suddenly felt further apart than they were, and your legs felt heavy as you leaped from branch to branch, following the Sully kids.

“Mom’s going to be so mad,” said Kiri as she ran past Lo’ak to catch up with Spider. Poor Tuk was left behind, so you grabbed her hand and matched your pace with the youngest Sully.

“Come on, Tuk,” you encouraged her when you saw the big jump she had to make. She pursed her lips and made a running start before leaping, Neteyam steadying her balance on the other side.

“Go ahead, I’ll be right behind you,” he whispered as you passed him.

You could see the circled-outlines of the moons in the sky, their glow being the only thing that allowed you to see your path, apart from the glow behind the opening in a tree bark that indicated you were finally there.

“And where-“ Neytiri started as Neteyam joined your circle. “Have you all been?”

Technically you weren’t actually family, you thought as you slowly backed away from them. With it being so dark and you standing on the edge of the group made your escape seem pretty easy. Neteyam noticed your movements but didn’t comment on it.

“You too.” You froze in your spot, Neytiri’s eyes trained on you like a spotlight.

You doubted that they saw you as family, but Jake and Neytiri had an odd way of making you feel like it. You had been a little younger than Tuk when Lo’ak had found you, and from there, each day you spent with the Sullys brought you closer to the family. But in times like this, you wished you didn’t feel like part of the family enough to escape Neytiri’s scolding.

“Why do they get to do the fun stuff while we sit here? I’d rather join them.”

“Suit yourself. I like it here,” replied Kiri.

Just on time, you stopped your pacing and ran out to the sound of the people shouting for the war party. The scene that greeted you wasn’t what you had initially expected, but it was no surprise either.

You kept your distance as you watched the two boys look down guiltily when Kiri approached, trying to drag the older brother out of the situation.

However, the huge gash on Neteyam’s chest worried you more than anything. His tail was swishing gently, showing the unease he felt.

Eventually, Jake let them both go and you followed them into the tent, and when the boys saw you, their faces lit up.

“Hey,” you approached Neteyam who was sitting on top of a wooden table with Kiri tending to his wounds.

“I’m offended you didn’t come to me first,” grumbled Lo’ak from the corner of the room. He had his arms crossed over his chest stubbornly, and the bright look turned into a sour one.

Although you knew he was messing around, you heard some truth in his words. Besides, it was Lo’ak that had befriended you first, and it was him that had spent his nights up to no good with you when his brother was busy being a good child.

“Missed you too, Lo’ak.”

“Ouch. Can you not?” Neteyam flinched as Kiri pressed into the cut a little too forcefully.

“Do you want me to help?”

“You’re doing this on purpose.”

“No I’m not,” she scoffed before pressing his wound even harsher, making him slap her hand away. “Now that was on purpose. You do it, I’m gonna find Tuk.”

Kiri gave you the bowl before exiting the tent. You were never one for healing, but you saw her plenty of times and she knew that. It was usually Kiri that did all the work when her brothers came back all bruised and bleeding.

“It’s fine. I don’t need it anyways,” Neteyam argued and started to get up when you smeared the sap on his cut.

“It’s deep. You’ll get an infection.”

“No it’s-“

“Sit down.” You gently pushed the hand that wasn’t holding the bowl to his chest and Neteyam sat down. He kept his eyes on you as you continued working on him, making sure to be extra gentle.

“I’m still here,” Lo’ak called out, unamused. “This is getting sappy. I’m leaving.”

“How come you’re younger than me and you get to boss me around all the time?” Neteyam started once his brother was out of earshot.

“I’m Lo’ak’s age.”

“And I see him as a baby.”

You sighed, feeling around his head to find any injuries. Neteyam could tell you were distracted and that your thoughts were everywhere but here with him just from the look in your eyes. You’ve been welled up in your thoughts ever since your last visit to the tree of voices, and the change of mood that came with it was evident.

“You okay?” Neteyam finally decided to speak up, wincing when you pressed on a sore spot in his scalp.

“Hmm?”

“You’ve been like this for the past week,” he explained. “Distant.”

“What do you mean?”

“Come on. I know you better than that. Lo’ak thinks it has something to do with me and he won’t shut up about it.”

“I’m fine.” You applied the sap with just a bit too much pressure on his head and he grasped your hand in his, bringing it away from his head.

“I won’t tell him,” he started when you finally looked at him for the first time ever since Kiri left. “What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?”

Neteyam saw your hesitance and reached for the bowl in your other hand to set it down next to him. He lowered his voice, speaking gently as if he was afraid of hurting you. “What happened when we were in the tree of voices?”

“I don’t know. I saw my parents and when it stopped I just panicked and I don’t know why. This never happens. Then I started thinking about your family and how they don’t really consider me a part of their family made me wish I had something like that.” You didn’t even realize the tears were falling until you felt Neteyam wipe the ones that fell to your cheeks. He stood and put an arm around you to bring you into an embrace, allowing you to bury your face in his shoulder.

Every welled up thought and feeling from the past week you’ve tried to shove as deep in the back of your head as possible suddenly resurfaced all over again. Maybe you were too scared to admit it, but Neteyam’s comfort was what you’ve been needing.

“You’re as much of the family as I am,” he softly assured whilst pulling away, tilting your chin upwards with a finger to look at him. “It might not look like it, but we all care. Even mom and dad.”

And then Neteyam did something stupid.

He leaned in to press his lips against yours, his grip around you tightening to pull you closer. You could taste the salt from your own tears as you responded with the same amount of intensity, all the built-up emotions finally pouring out into the kiss.

Your hands reached out to wrap around his neck when you felt his tail brush against your leg, the slow loving movements indicating how blissed out he was.

You weren’t sure how long the two of you stayed in that tent, but when you pulled away breathlessly, Neteyam did the same with visible effort.

“How am I going to tell Lo’ak?”

Neteyam breathed out a small laugh and closed his eyes, pressing his forehead against yours.

“I’m more worried about dad.” At his words, you parted from him anxiously. “Relax. You’re family. If anything, they’ll be more worried about you than me.”

He wasn’t wrong. Jake looked like he was having a panic attack when the two of you told him and Neytiri.

“You want to tell me how this happened?” He pointed between the two of you who looked like guilty kids that had gotten caught stealing. You both glanced at each other hesitantly as Jake grew impatient waiting for an explanation from either of you.

“Neteyam kissed me.” Your voice came out so quiet you weren’t sure whether you’d said it out loud or if you’d only said it in your head.

Jake and Neytiri looked purely out of it. They cast their son a look while he looked anywhere but at his parents.

“Neteyam,” Neytiri warned.

The Olo’eyktan made sure to make the list of rules clear for the both of you. No wandering off too far alone together and definitely no sleeping together, even just next to each other separately. Jake mentioned how he knew it wasn’t uncommon considering how you’ve been doing that since you were children, but now it was off limits. He also mentioned a whole set of other rules and how he would kill Neteyam if the boy laid a hand on you or hurt you in any way.

In a way, the protectiveness they held towards you made you feel welcomed and accepted. It made you feel as if you were actually part of the family. And even more so when they offered you to join them to pursue lands beyond the Omatikaya clan.

Since the only people you’ve stuck to since you were young were their kids, Jake and Neytiri knew you’d be devastated if you had to part with them, especially when you were now attached with their eldest son.

There was no dismissing their offer from your side either. You weren’t going to leave the only people who truly knew you, and you weren’t going to leave Neteyam. Though you had to admit, you missed the forest just as much as everybody else.

“What’s that?” asked the youngest Sully as she peeked over your shoulder to get a closer look at what you were holding.

“A bracelet I’m making for you.” Her face brightened even more.

“It’s pretty!”

“It needs more shells. I’ll fetch some more outside and woah-“ your eyes widened when Neteyam and Lo’ak entered, all bruised and bloody. “What now?”

“Got into a fight with Tsireya’s brothers. They were picking on Kiri. Hey Tuk,” Lo’ak said, ruffling his sister’s hair.

“You too?” You looked at the older brother.

“What? Was I supposed to stand there and watch him get beaten up?”

“I could’ve handled them on my own.”

Neteyam snorted. “No, you’d be with Eywa if it wasn’t for me.”

Lo’ak grumbled his way to Tuk, who looked like she had so many questions for him. He picked up the bracelet you made and twirled it in his hands, earning an angry protest from his sister who snatched it away from his hands.

You were about to leave to go shell-hunting when a thought passed through your head after seeing blood on Neteyam’s lips.

It looked like it hadn't dried up, so you acted on impulse when you approached him and brought your hand to his jaw to pull him into a gentle kiss, making sure to lick his bottom lip where the blood was.

The kiss took Neteyam by surprise, and once he was about to respond, you pulled away, leaving him puzzled.

“You got blood on your lips,” you whispered, tracing your fingers along his jaw before reluctantly letting go.

“Gross, you two. Poor Tuk’tirey’s tainted.” You barely heard Lo’ak’s words as you walked away from them.

The rest of your days were filled with the same routine. You’d learn a thing or two from the Tsireya and then Lo’ak would stir up trouble with her brother and his friends. How they had managed to get along after some time was a miracle.

Everyday was filled with new discoveries of their waters. Tuk would ask to see something new almost every hour, and being the favorite, you’d accompany her almost every time. If you weren’t with Tuk, you’d be sitting somewhere with Kiri. If you weren’t with Kiri, you’d be exploring the waters with Lo’ak, and if you weren’t with Lo’ak, you’d be discovering new places on land with Neteyam.

Today, you were with Lo’ak, and you hadn’t expected that warning his Tulkun friend would turn into something much much worse. You weren’t even sure how it came to this point.

You were escaping the sky people when Kiri, Lo’ak and Tuk were taken. It was one thing after the other and the next thing you know, you were trying to keep your composure as you watched Neteyam writhe in pain from a bullet wound in his chest, your palm caressing his jaw to let him know you were here.

It’s okay. He’s going to be okay.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Jake voiced your thoughts.

“I want to go home.”

No. It’ll take more than a bullet to kill you.

“I know, I know. We’re going home.”

No. No.

You felt your heart breaking followed by a tear with every sob and pained sound that came out of his mouth.

“It’s okay,” you quietly assured him as your thumb gently stroked his cheek, the first word you’ve spoken coming off as a whisper.

Neteyam glanced your way one last time at your voice before the pain in his eyes turned lifeless and his convulsing body went still.

“No. No, no-“ Neytiri begged and it felt like the air was sucked out of you. “Neteyam!”

You couldn’t even hear your own scream over the ringing of your ears. Everything happened all too fast.

“Neteyam,” you sobbed, cradling his head close.

You can’t leave me. Come back.

3K notes · View notes

reiderwriter · 5 months

Note

Hey lovely! Hope you’re doing good! I was listening to bad idea right? By Olivia Rodrigo and thought it would be a good idea for a Spencer fic, was thinking something something with a little angst, smut and possibly a fluffy ending! ♥️

Ps love your writing 🖤

A/N: Most relatable song released this year, if we're being totally honest with ourselves, right 💀 I hope you enjoy this!

Warnings: (Munch Spencer Truthers, I'm throwing yourself another bone here), Oral (f receiving), fingering, masturbation (male), slight hand job at the end, penetrative sex, cum play, etc. Minors DNI 18+

Your fling with Spencer Reid from the BAU ended abruptly when he fell off the face of the earth.

You weren't sure how someone who had described himself as technophobic had managed to perfect the art of ghosting someone, but boy had he, and you were still a little bit angry about it.

Even angrier when you saw him plastered over the local news out on a case, explaining to the people how fake tips to the FBI hindered cases more than helped them.

You were angry because he looked so good. His hair was shorter, displaying his all too pretty features prominently, and pissing you off to no end as you still felt your heart beat out of your chest until he'd disappeared into a crime scene again.

You brushed it off and berated yourself until the text came.

It wasn't much, just a quick hello, but you waited for a few minutes anyway to see if he'd say anything else.

When he didn't, you grew frustrated and text him a response.

“Who is this?”

It was petty, but four months of radio silence deserved less, in all honesty.

You weren't expecting the phone to vibrate out of your hand as you waited for a response, but it lit up with his call and you scrambled to wait enough time to pick it up.

“Hello.”

“Hi. It's Spencer. Spencer Reid. Doctor Spencer Reid, from the Behavioural Analysis Unit, this is Y/N right?”

“Yes, Spencer, it's me. My number didn't change after four months.”

“Okay, that was deserved.”

“Why are you calling Spencer?”

“Because I'm a burnt out child prodigy who didn't cure schizophrenia by age 25 and my friends missed my birthday. And because I really wanted to see you.”

The line went quiet as you contemplated what the hell you would say to that.

“It would be stupid to ask if you remembered my address, right?”

“Y/N, I remember what you taste like, and I'll never forget it.”

“Good. I'm locking the door in half an hour.” You didn't give him time to respond before exiting the call and running to your bathroom.

Maybe it wasn't the best idea entertaining a fling from months ago on a whim at 7pm on a Wednesday evening, but you had nothing else to be doing with your time.

It wasn't illegal for people to reconnect, and you were not going to mention this to any close or mutual friends of yours, so one conversation (or whatever this was) probably wouldn't have any consequences anyway.

Caution blown to the wind, you replaced your work clothes with a comfortable dress, fixed your hair and poured a glass of wine and waited.

As if on queue, 27 minutes later, Spencer was at your door. Or more accurately in your house.

Your threat to lock the doors had obviously spurred him on, and you heard the door handle twist as he stepped into the space.

“Spencer. How lovely, to what do I owe the honor?”

The adrenaline of making sure the door was unlocked had obviously worn off for him, as you saw him shift awkwardly in the doorway of your living room, sat comfortably on your couch, your skirt just riding high enough to distract.

“I was thinking. Well, I suppose the correct term would be overthinking. Emily had to snap me out of it, because I was kicking myself and doubting myself and worrying so much that we almost lost the unsub…”

“What I’m trying to say is I’ve regretted not doing too many things to think coming to beg you to kiss me again is a bad idea. It’s not a bad idea, right?”

“That depends, Spencer.” You replied, setting your glass of wine down and standing up. You took a wobbly step towards him, eager to blame your hesitancy on the wine rather than the things his gaze, his words and his simple presence was doing to your body.

“On if you only want a kiss.” Your hand gingerly slipped up his chest until it was hooked into his hair, exploring the shorter locks as he grabbed you by the waist.

“Or if you aren't satisfied with just that.”

“I can't seem to come up with an answer. Perhaps you should kiss me and it'll jog my memory.”

You finally cracked a smile, and saw his face instantly bloom into ot as well.

“Nu-uh Spencer. I think you have to take that chance this time.”

He hesitated only a second before his hands were cradling your face, tipping your chin up to him as he bent to kiss you. You immediately responded, letting your hands grab fistfuls of his shirt as you pulled each other closer.

It sent you off balance, but you let yourself follow the motion of you tipping backwards, letting him catch you as you began moving in the direction of your bed.

“Not a bad idea,” he mumbled between deep kisses, letting loose a stray moan when your hands trailed down to his belt and below. “Definitely not a bad idea.”

Somehow in the clash of lips and hands, you managed to make it back to your bed, his hands already managing to find themselves under your dress as his lips diverted your attention.

“Four months, Spencer.” You growled the words into his mouth as your tongues battled for dominance. “Four months without this. I thought I'd go insane.”

You felt him smile as he lifted you, and grinned too as you wrapped your legs around him just as he began climbing onto the bed, softly lowering you down until he was on top of you.

His tongue travelled down your neck, making his way back up towards your ear.

“I did go a bit insane, you know?”

His hands flipped up your skirt as he ground his dick against your crotch, pushing it up further until the bottoms of your breasts were peaking out of the scraps of material as well.

“Let me make it up to you?” It was phrased like a question he didn't care about the answer to, as he pushed off of you and completely rid your body of the material that was hindering it completely.

“That's better.” You swore you heard a sigh of contentment as he held your thighs apart and lowered his head, one kiss at a time, to your neglected pussy.

He hooked a ginger under your panties, and pushed them off to the side, but he'd never been the most patient, and he'd already spread your legs. He'd just work around the impediment, you knew.

And he did, starting with a casual flick of the tongue as he looked up at you from his place at your cunt, smiling at you as he began to feast.

You'd never thought of yourself as a pillow princess before Spencer, enjoying giving love as much as receiving but he gave you the perfect royal treatment, and enjoying it so much it was impossible to deny.

After getting so spoiled, it was a wonder that you even knew how to adapt to life without him, nothing compared to the care and attention he showed you in bed.

Your thoughts blended together as he pressed a finger into you, already sneaked with his spit and your wetness, collected from between his lips and your soaked cunt. His pace was steady, repetitive, and driving you fucking insane.

Never a demanding lover, before you would have simply let him enjoy his time between your legs, enjoying just how much he enjoyed it himself as he lapped up all of your juices.

But four months clean from your addiction to Spencer Reid and you were snapping.

Your hands gripped at his hair, pressing his face further into your cunt than he'd been before, enjoying the muffled moans and the sound of his tongue generously lapping up all you had to offer.

You started humping his mouth, holding his head still as you used him as a tool to get yourself off, finally cumming on his mouth with a shudder and an unfiltered moan.

It would've been embarrassing if it wa anyone else, just how loud you'd been for your ex-boyfriend.

“You taste the same.” He said, wiping the remainders of your cum from his lips as he stroked himself, having loosed his cock from his pants sometime between you moaning like a wanton whore and using his face as a sex toy.

A single glance at him over you pleasuring himself was enough to get you ready for round two.

He had sat up on his knees, head and torso tilted slightly back to give you a better view of his cock being pumped hard and fast.

“Spencer Reid, don't you dare make yourself cum.” You thought the words were joking, light even but even you were shocked by the sheer lust dripping from your throat.

Wrapping your legs around him again, you pulled yourself up into his lap, holding yourself still as you quickly unfastened each of his shirt buttons, pushing it away and chucking it so far that he wouldn't be able to use it to cover up anything else.

It took you a minute more to properly situate yourself, but soon you were sinking down onto his cock and allowing the stretch to rule your mind and movements for a minute.

You gently started riding him, letting each gasp and moan reach your ears and spur you on, not holding back on your side either, telling him just how good it felt to have him in you raw once again.

Your stamina wasn't great though especially after having had one powerful orgasm already, and your movements soon became sloppy.

He kissed you softly on the lips, and you let go of the tension in your body as he pushed you onto your back, made sure you were comfortable, and started beating his cock into you with such a force that you were sure the bed was going to break.

It was this intensity that you craved, this complete change from his insistence on putting you first so to speak, and then using you as a human sexton when it suited him, allowing his cock to push you to your limits and beyond.

It wasn't like you could protest anyway, mouth hanging limply open in a scream of pleasure as sparks shot up your spine.

Entertaining Spencer Reid was never a bad idea. You decided then and there that if he left you again for whatever reason, you'd hunt him to the ends of the earth and beg for another chance at this feeling of pleasure.

You came again, of course, not sure if it was his cock or his exploring hands that was tethering you to the moment as you died a little death.

His own orgasm wasn't far behind your own, but he'd always been a bit messy. You weren't surprised when he gave a small panicked moan, pulling out at the last second as his cum spurted out. You helped him ride it out, wrapping a hand around him to stroke him until his dick was drained, the contents sprayed across your chest and breasts, a single drop even making it to the side of your mouth, but that was quickly lapped up.

His aftercare was almost as good as his foreplay, as he took pains to wash you diligently, even as all you wished to do was sleep well into the night directly after feeling his hot cum pour onto you.

He'd gathered a wash cloth, fresh set of pyjamas and an extra blanket to cocoon you both in before you could even lift a finger, and climbed into bed before you could even think of asking if he was staying the night.

With the satisfaction of multiple orgasms finally catching you, you fell asleep in his arms, a grin plastered on your lips, his hands possessively surrounding you.

Needless to say, when you woke in the morning, he was still there.

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #mgg #spencer reid smut #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fandom #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid criminal minds #dr spencer reid #spencer reid x reader smut #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n

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starillusion13 · 3 months

Note

HEY! I saw your thirst ask is open but I wanted to send you a request. Okay, anyways what do you think--who will be more dominant between Jeno & Jaemin? If you are in a relationship with both at once. I am curious about it pleaseeeeeeeeeeeeeee

First of all This is a dominant duo tho...

Okay so if we imagine these two as the ones you met at the university ground when you were heart-broken because of the sudden news of your boyfriend cheating on you. It wasn't too surprising for you because the way he was ignorant of you, it was as if only you who was trying hard to keep it strong but somehow it crashed in the end.

"y/n, why are you here alone?" of course Jaemin would be the one to have a concern visible on his face and would approach you, with Jeno closely trailing behind him and both of their gazes fixed on your crying form.

and if you hesitate to reply then the other would be repeating the same question with a dark look, "he asked you something so you better reply."

after explaining to them everything, they wont leave your side for the time being, or maybe for the following few days. you have noticed it before that they would always be around whenever there is a little misfortunate events in your life and many doubt that maybe you are sleeping around with them. the rumors frustrates you a lot but them--they enjoy it a lot.

now that you don't have a bf, mostly to their advantage. they are happily hanging out with you more. keeping an eye on you where you are going or with whom are talking to, also always popping out of nowhere to ask if you are okay or there's something bothering you. they would make you feel like a reliable on them.

cuddles with Jaemin is a daily dose for your exhausted day but when Jeno welcoming you in a warm hug, it's as if you have seen a heaven in reality.

but there's something to notice...

Jaemin is the kind and adorable sweetheart of the campus. his bunny smile with cute sparkling eyes makes others drool over him but the buff body with those tight muscles hiding beneath his hoodies and t-shirts are often left unnoticed by his soft look. he has a flirty personality and with a click, everyone will be in a queue for him but in his mind, it's only you---always you. smirk directed towards them is actually on the thoughts flashing in front of his eyes, how to break you down and to what limit he can go until you are begging to him. he would groan to himself with the thoughts of you squirming and shaking with begging him to stop. his sweet smile with those contrast words and actions.

"Oh baby, you are done with this? come on. I know you can do it better. if you were really done then you would have said the word already." even if has made you come a lot of times but he will still be unsatisfied and proceed to do his sweet tortures on you.

Jeno is just the opposite to him in appearance. he is scary, he doesn't give a fuck about others, but yeah sometimes you will find him giving threats and ending with the a eye smile...literally mocking at them. his strong muscled body lining with popping veins is always on display and it's normal to say he is scary with the dark demeanor. his dark eyes on you with his strong grip on your wrist really scares you off sometimes but then suddenly he will direct a eye-smile to you. if he wants you under him, he knows he will get you easily without even trying a little coz it's easy for him to make you weak under him. you are nothing against his whole personality. his words and actions are a perfect match.

"look at you, begging for what? didn't think before going against me that it won't end up well...and it's good not for you but fantastic for me." oh he would also make Jaemin watch you both how you are literally folding into half.

but don't get fooled by their cover...

Jaemin might can be a sweetheart outside but to let you know, even Jeno gets surprised with his thoughts on how to have you. no one not even you who is apparently their girlfriend can't even even imagine who is likely to do the most wild things. of course the first thought that would come across your mind is Jeno might be the one but to your surprise, Jaemin is the one to end something completely.

If you are trying to control them them, buckle your seatbelt because even if Jaemin allows you to have control over him for a night, Jeno would never....NEVER he will let you believe that you can control him.

he will instantly make you on your knees and buries himself deep inside your throat, "say it again. maybe let me see you try again." his dark and furious eyes watching how tears falling from your eyes and how badly you are shaking when he is thrusting deep in your every hole. THE DOMINANT OF THE DUO.

but Jaemin will let you experience your new side and Jeno would tsk beside you. The sweet boy will guide you and ask your list of fantasies unlike the other who just has a thought--you have to like everything he will give you. what a freak! hush he might can hear you.

They will follow your every moves and once they notice that you are nothing except a sub to them. wide dirty smirks display across their face and would fuck you unless you are falling unconscious. but they are soft romantics too, would fill you with lots of gifts and never leave a chance to show you off to others. Jaemin might appear as if he is not bothered someone is flirting with you but Jeno will stare deeply into them to scare them off.

you know getting on Jeno's worst side is a hell for you but getting on Jaemin's worst side means you are on a long ass ride.

"Jaemin, how should we start?"

he will smile and cup your face, "maybe start with tying her up...and then we can have it in our way."

you are not escaping them in this life.

Afterall they were the one to make your boyfriend break up with you in the first place so that they will gain your trust easily. come on, otherwise they would have locked you up anyways for themselves.

[Believe me JENO is really really really a dominant one. HE IS AN ALPHA...and JAEMIN is trying to hide his own ALPHA side not to scare you off]

#nct #nct x reader #nct smut #nct hard hours #nct hard thoughts #nct dream smut #nct dream imagines #nct imagines #jaemin smut #jeno smut #jaemin imagines #jeno imagines #jaemin x reader #jeno x reader #nct dream x reader

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theirmadness · 2 months

Note

❛ do whatever you want with me, i’m yours. ❜ ( for abaddon! )

meme status: accepting. meme source: uknown. meme sender: @diemauer.

❝ those are such dangerous words, my darling, ❞ but danger is exactly what the little vvitch is looking for, isn't it? she wants someone like abaddon to show her what it's like to touch hellfire. she grabs a fistful of the girl's hair, tugging her head backwards as she towers over the girl. even without heels, she is taller. davina is such a little thing. pretty and so, so fragile. so breakable. it turns abaddon on in so many ways. she licked her lips with this starved look in her eyes, tracing her fingers down along the girl's jaw, going down to her throat, down her chest, until she was groping her breast and pressing into her. ❝ i will eat you alive, baby girl. and you will thank me for it. you will beg me for more. ❞ words were purred into the girl's ear, her hand travelling down south until she was teasing her between her legs with expert fingers, over her clothes and all. she wanted davina truly desperate before she touched her naked body.

#diemauer #other . . . abaddon.#meme file . . . abaddon.#meme thread . . . abaddon & davina.#answered ask.#answered meme.#pls feel free to turn this into a thread!#replies . . . we all queue down here!#nstf tw

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dilemmaontwolegs · 9 months

Text

Privacy || PG10

Pairing: Pierre Gasly x fem!reader, Kika x fem!reader Warnings: angst, cheating, wlw WC: ~700 F1 Masterlist

You were his. He had promised it over and over, time and time again. You were only his. He didn’t want to share you, not with anyone. Privacy - that was the foundation of your relationship. Everything was kept private, so he could keep you safe.

Or so he said...

You could still see the notification when you closed your eyes. The WhatsApp message that mysteriously disappeared before you could read it, just like all the rest. You could feel the ice spreading down your spine at the lie.

It was just a group message, just one of the guys on the grid. He said it as if you didn’t know the name of every driver.

“I’ll be back before you wake, you won’t even notice I’m gone,” he promised as he stepped out of the bedroom in a white linen shirt, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. You had taken time off work to spend the summer break with him but he couldn’t seem to go one night without attending a party at some club you couldn’t even pronounce.

You placed your phone on the coffee table and nodded your head like a good girlfriend should, just as he expected. “Be safe. Have fun.”

“Yeah, course.” He could barely hide his smile as he replied to a message on his phone, completely distracted as you did the same. “Love you.”

“You too.”

The club was full by the time you made it inside, unable to skip the long queue because you were just another pretty face, not one of the influencers or sports stars that frequented the place. There were hundreds of people but it was impossible to miss Mr Personality in the crowd, his smile wide as his arm curled around the model’s narrow waist.

The anonymity that came with the ‘private’ relationship worked in your favour as you made your way through the people. A few men took notice of your hips swaying with each step, but that was nothing new. Pierre had called you his ‘petal’, beautiful and in need of protecting.

“Hi,” you greeted your boyfriend when you reached the ring of strangers surrounding him. He dropped his arm from the model’s body and tore his lips away from her neck with wide-eyes. “Oh, don’t stop on my account, Kika is very beautiful.”

“It’s not what it looks like-”

“Of course not, it was totally innocent,” you interrupted, voice dripping with sarcasm.

“No need to be a bitch.” You could smell the alcohol on his breath and see his eyes dilated with the thoughts he had of finishing what he started with the younger woman. He had been talking to her for weeks, waiting for their trip to align so he could do more than just slide into her DMs.

You watched his hand disappear behind her back and she bit her lip as he palmed her ass. “It’s time to make a decision,” you said as you crossed your arms. “Are you going to come home with me?”

Pierre looked between you and Kika, his eyes dropped from her face to her tits before flicking back to you. “I’m good here.”

“Let’s go, love,” you said as you held your hand out, making Pierre laugh.

His laughter died when Kika stepped away from him, taking your hand and curling her body into your side. The devilish look in her siren eyes had you combing your fingers into her dark hair as she gripped the tight dress you wore and pulled you closer. Her lips tasted of strawberry from her daiquiri and the essence of the rum was stronger on her tongue when she deepened the kiss.

“What the fuck?” Pierre growled as he pulled you apart to see her lipstick smeared on your smirking lips.

“You’re not the only one in my DMs,” Kika teased as cleaned her lipstick from your face with a promising look. “Isn’t that right, my petal?”

“Petal?” His face was falling with each passing second, devastation at his actions being realised the longer he looked at you. He knew he was losing you. “Baby, wait, we can talk about this.”

“You made your bed, Pierre,” you said as you shook your head and curled your arm around Kika like he had earlier. “Now sleep alone in it.”

#pierre gasly x y/n #pierre gasly imagine #pierre gasly x you #pierre gasly x reader #pierre gasly fanfic #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #formula one imagine #formula 1 fanfic

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sourcherryandsprinkles · 3 months

Note

KINKY BILLY LOOMIS SMUT PLS

Request: Billy teasing and playing with reader while watching a movie at the theater. He’s totally the kind of guy who would sit in the back and fool around instead of watching the movie

Warnings: 18+, exhibitionism, public sex, fingering, nipple play

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

‘’Are you fucking kidding me?’’ an annoyed Tatum complained when she saw you and Billy walking in the theater. Her eyes narrowed as she turned to her boyfriend with an unamused glare. ‘’Please tell me you two didn’t plan a double date without telling me.’’

Stu raised his hands defensively, his eyes wide with innocence. ‘’I didn’t!’’

‘’Hey guys,’’ you interrupted, the scent of buttered popcorn filling the air as you walked up to them in the snack queue.

Tatum's gaze shifted to you before she finally sighed, faking a smile. ‘’Well, this is a surprise.’’

You and Tatum were friends, but not in the same way she and Sidney were friends. It was more ‘friends because your boyfriends were best friends’. You weren’t on her list of people she would call to go to the mall with.

Billy came right behind you, seeming just as surprised to see the other couple there.

‘’Which movie are you seeing?’’ you asked, trying to feed a conversation.

‘’The new Halloween,’’ Stu replied, looping an arm behind his girlfriend’s neck in hope she would forgive him for something he had nothing to do with.

A smile curled on your lips. ‘’Us too!’’

You weren’t too confident about the movie. You heard there was no Jamie Lee in this one, so it was off to a bad start. But Halloween was Halloween, though. You had seen them all.

‘’We’ll just…sit a few rows back,’’ Billy said, trying to appease Tatum’s annoyed eyes.

After grabbing popcorn and drinks, you all split up upon entering the theater. Surprisingly, the theater wasn't too packed for a Friday night. The weather was gloomy, which should have drawn everyone here, but there was a football match at school, so that's probably where they were at. Go Panthers!

Billy picked seats at the back, and Stu and Tatum went to the lower middle so they would have a good view of the screen.

‘’You good here?’’

You nodded, taking the popcorn as he reached down to fold the armrest up and out of his way.

The lights turned down, and the movie began.

Forty minutes through the movie, you came to a conclusion that you couldn't get into this installment of the franchise. The plot was a complete mess and you were getting frustrated by watching another thing that made absolutely no sense unfold on the big screen.

‘’This is shit,’’ you whispered to Billy, reaching for the popcorn, only to discover it was empty. Of course he ate it all. ‘’Got any Mike and Ikes left?’’

He handed you the box, and you leaned into your seat, quietly eating from boredom. How much time was there left?

The movie continued playing, and suddenly you felt the arm around your shoulder lower down and pull one of your tits out of your shirt. The cool air of the theater made your nipple harden into a peak. Billy pinched it delicately, casually rolling the bud between thumb and forefinger like you weren't in the middle of a movie theater.

‘’What are you doing?’’ you hissed at him into the dark, swatting his hand away. ‘’Are you trying to get us kicked out?’’

Billy shushed you, then continued playing with your breast with a mischievous glint in his eyes. ‘’We’re only getting kicked out if we get caught.’’

He wasn't wrong. You looked around the room and, thankfully, no one was paying any attention. Sighing, you dumped a few candies in your palm and let Billy have his way.

A few minutes passed and you found yourself shifting in your seat, starting to feel your panties dampen from getting your tits played with. Pushing the shenanigans to the next level, you took Billy's other hand and brought it down to your lap.

Billy was a clever boy. Dirty-minded too. He knew what you wanted from him.

His fingers slid beneath the hem of your skirt, snaking up your inner thighs until he reached your panties. You parted your thighs wider, giving him more room between your legs, and he skillfully pulled your panties to the side. He teased your folds, fingers sliding between your lips and coating themselves with your arousal as you let out a shaky breath.

‘’Didn't know you were such a naughty girl,’’ Billy noted, looking straight ahead at the screen as he crooked his fingers the way you liked.

You grabbed the arm rest to keep you from squirming. ‘’Fuck,’’ you slipped quietly, Billy’s palm flat against your clit.

What did you get yourself into?

—

Scream taglist: @misfityanii @beautybyfire @iluvscream191 @mariposa555 @bella7866 @o638 @lulubelle14 @luvvtxinityy @frasersgf @Eddiefrickenmunson @jasperr-the-friendly-ghost @ghostf4cee @thesebitcheslovesosadotcom @wandaswigglywoos @xjennyx2 @jennasslut @thatonesblog @mikaelsonsstuff @icarly23 @tcddszn @bt.oliana @skyesthebomb @a1mzcruml3y @red1culous @iluurmom @popeheywardssecretgf @michaelangdonsslut @byhrxb @kamthecoolest @kattybug @ravenstrueluv @landryslxys @die4niyahhh @sl4sh3rfuck3r @radiant-whore @Meadzy21 @luci1fer @nomorespahgetti @bloodyhw @depthsofdespairr @bellysbeach @wilmalovegood @loupiotesworld @wenvierismycomfort @t-candy @s-al-em @darylscvmdumpster @tommysaxes @adaydreamaway08 @johannelis2302nely @aqshua @lynbubble @luiise @planetkt @vampyrgoff @adrluvh @mymultiveres @miqi-16 @not-liah @lovenats01 @doestalker @lonelywitchv2 @lausley336 @arinexeisnotworking @halforangecuts @l3ndryz @ilovelandry @your-platonic-gay-lover @danniackerman @angelxxrose @lottiefromsam @thecrowdedstreetin1944 @cinnamonbun222 @angelxxrose @lottiefromsam @zoeynicolas @thecrowdedstreetin1944 @cinnamonbun222 @pumkinnroses @cruzgrecia @sunnysunny133696 @aesthetixhoe @gizmodecaprio

All and more taglist: @kenqki @hawkegfs @gillybear17 @black-rose-29 @fudge13 @cece05 @laylasbunbunny @gemofthenight @beautyb1ade @mellabella101 @vxnity713 @bisexualgirlsblog @queenofslytherin889 @thatbxtchesblog @softb-tterfly @ethanlandrycanbreakmyheart @xyzstar @graceberman3 @mikeyspinkcup @jackierose902109 @daisydark @laurasdrey @mischieftom @fanatic4niall @peterholland04 @idkwhattonamethisblogs @lexasaurs634 @notasadgirlipromise @zoeynicolas @thejuleshypothesis @multi-fandom-bi-bitch @lexasaurs634 @notasadgirlipromise @thejuleshypothesis @katherinejess @rafesgirlstuff @lafleshlumpeater @iamluminosity

#billy loomis x reader #billy loomis imagine #billy loomis #scream #scream imagine #billy loomis x you

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undercoverpena · 7 months

Text

can you ever really know?

Marcus Pike x F!Reader

summary: marcus hadn’t intended to meet someone, never mind begin seeing them.

word count: 3k warnings: smut, marcus eating you out on a table (f!recieving). dedication: this is a dual dedication, both to @perotovar who i adore and has spurned me on, and to @psychedelic-ink who whooped so hard when i said i wanted to write this, that i finished it for her 9k celebration

"Is this what we do then? Just two strangers who buy each other drinks?" Dipping his chin, he half-laughs, trying to see the scribbled name on your cup. "Well, we don't have to be strangers." "Oh, nice. Very smooth." "Too much?" Shaking your head, you turn the cup—allowing him to see your name. "No, I liked it." "Yeah?" Nodding, you begin grinning, before hiding it with a sip of your drink.

Marcus hadn’t intended to meet someone, never mind begin seeing them.

It was accidental. A chance encounter. An event that had wholly thrown him off his game as he stood in line at the coffee shop, soul prickly, from the day he was having.

On some level—the practical part of him, the one that deals in facts and statistics—he suspected it was why it was then you’d stepped into his world. Not even hovering in his peripheral, but front and centre in front of him in the queue. Your phone nervously tapping in your palm—eyes looking over your shoulder, not at him, but not through him.

You’d bought him his drink first. A pay it forward thing—or so he was told when he’d finally chosen his drink.

A gesture that stuck with him remained embedded somewhere in his head, rotting away.

Marcus never expected to see you again. The chances were slim, the odds so low it wasn’t worth thinking—but then he did. Same time, same place.

You were in front of him again as he pulled open the heavy glass door and was confronted with the back of you he’d been trying not to think about in his downtime. This time, your attire was different, more casual—less ‘on the way to work’ and more out doing errands. But, unlike before, you kept your head down, barely even a sound over a whisper when you ordered your drink.

It etched a place in him that stuck around until the next time.

By then, he’d wrongly assumed that your timings matched his. But, when he walked into the coffee shop, his stomach fell to his feet—disappointment blooming where his organ once was because you weren’t there.

Typically ahead of him, arriving a few minutes before.

Marcus trying to swallow back how frustrated he felt that he’d made progress, felt good, almost ready to even say a hello to you and then… you weren’t even here. His feet dragging, plastering on a smile as he walked up to the barista, shoulders sinking, until he heard the door open.

Somehow, before he even looked, he knew it was you.

Your voice cut in over the distorted music, covering the cheap speaker and the grinding of beans as you said goodbye to whoever you spoke to on the phone. And he knew he had one chance—one.

So, Marcus bought you a coffee.

Quickly coming up with an excuse, a reason—if it went wrong, he’d say he was simply paying the kindness back.

But you hadn’t asked him why. Instead, your reply was as bold as he wished he was.

It’s how he found himself across from you in the coffee shop, spending the remainder of that drink learning all he could—half-tempted to buy another so the two of you didn’t have to part.

Instead, he asked for the same time next week. Your smile stuck with him for the next six days and twenty-three hours until he could see you again.

And it was better than the first.

“You going to ask me out, Marcus?”

Sipping his coffee, he licked his lips. “Thought I already did.”

Shrugging, you leaned closer. “Guess I’ll do it then. You fancy getting dinner with me?”

That’s how he found himself at a red tablecloth with a flickering candle. You sitting in a similar position as you had been in the coffee shop when you’d handed him your name on your cup, and he’d given you his with a shake of his hand—all careful, wrapped in softness, a sweet bow on the top perfectly positioned by a smile.

It going well—too well.

A part of him screaming to slow down, already feeling, already wanting—

“I need to tell you…”

Leaning over the table, you smile. “I knew it. You had to have a flaw—you don’t actually like coffee, do you?”

It happens slowly, and flows in stages: First, a smile, one which grows into a grin. Then, he laughs. Before finally, his body leans closer, fingers ghosting over, almost touching yours.

The part of him still wounded, sore, the only thing stopping him from taking your hand in his.

“No. I—I, um, have quite an unhealthy addition to that.”

Smirking, you glide your tongue across your lips, sliding your hand to your glass, eyes holding his—waiting, giving him the floor.

“I just wanted to tell you that I really like getting to know you.” Your face flickers, ever so slightly. Perfectly in time with the dancing candle, almost could be blamed on the trick of the light—but he isn’t anyone. He’s trained, all able to read people. “But, I… my last relationship didn’t end so well. And while I’m over it—over her—I... I don’t want to rush this.”

Your smile sweetens, lips rolling as you sigh, ever so softly. “I like getting to know you too, Marcus,” you reply, fingers sliding across the base of your glass—a smile, hanging so kindly on your face. “We can just… see what happens. Take it easy, like we have been.”

Beaming, he licks his lips. Slowly grinning—letting the words “see what happens” around on his tongue before he laughs. A gentle one, his hand running along his beard.

“Yeah. That’ll be… nice.”

Casual, you follow up with as his knee abuts yours under the table, watching as your chin rests on one of your hands, as the other scoops up your glass, smirking against it as you take a sip.

He felt it then, the sparkle—the crackle in the air.

His eyes could not tear themselves away from you—just like he hadn’t in the coffee shop. He was enamoured, fully taken in. Marcus hung off each word and studied each expression on your face.

He blames that for the reason he finds himself pushing your back against your front door, the keys jingling in your hand, the evening very much far from over. His mouth on yours, searing, almost bruisingly kissing you.

It isn’t until your breath is ghosting over his, lips ever so close, his body flush with yours, that you speak, your eyes flicking from his to his lips and back again. “I thought you wanted to—”

“I’m seeing what happens…”

Your lips curl. “You sure you want to do that, Agent Pike?”

He has to swallow a moan. The way you let his name fall from your lips so velvety, makes his trousers even tighter. The hand on your waist tightens, clutching you more so, before his mouth spells all the words he wants to say against yours—kissing away any doubt that he doesn’t want this, you.

“Open the door,” he says, kissing it to your lips. “Please.”

Thank fuck you do.

Guiding you in, walking you backwards. Hand sliding up to your cheek, wrist resting against your jaw as he traces his tongue over your bottom lip, easing you against a wall, hearing your door click shut—

“I just… I just need a minute,” you whisper. A hand on his chest, not pushing, but just there—fingers stroking his shirt, nodding. “Just one minute.”

Nodding, he gives you another kiss. Stepping back, brushing the strands of hair that had fallen from his forehead as you held up a finger, another sign of promise, just a minute, and he smiles, doing as you instruct when you tell him to get comfortable.

Your place is nice—cosy.

The windows are all tall and long, the sheer curtains barely able to put up much of a fight against the city’s lights. He suspects you chose it for the light. Something about you screams light and airy, easy and inviting—a thing which is embedded into everything you do. From the initial greeting to now.

The only light casting over your place is the one from the city—it illuminates your table, the one in the centre of the space, glass, pretty fabric chairs around it. No marks, not a single fingerprint. His mind quickly imagines you eating at it most mornings. The flirty text messages the two of you have been exchanging between the coffee date and tonight, all beginning here, until he joins you on your commute to work.

A thought, all dangerous and unwilling to go, pops up. There’s no pin able to burst it, not as it grows—it expanding, filling the expanse of his head and ridding him of all other thoughts—

“Nice table,” he announces, following the sound of you joining him.

Not needing sight to know where you are, already in tune with you—even if he’s told himself to slow down. To not fall as quickly, take his time—breathe.

“Oh, yeah? I-It’s new.”

His throat tightens, the thought pushing further against his skull—knowing if there were even a flicker from a candle, you’d be able to see how lustful his eyes were.

“How new?”

His question burns in the air. Sizzling. The air thickens. The only sound coming from a neighbour above walking around in what sounded like heels. But, all he’s focused on is that you’re beside him—shoulder against his arm, eyes forward, staring out at the view. As though you don’t get to marvel at it each day, as though you haven’t had your fill of it.

Not that he can blame you. He’s had plenty of chances to take you in—taking all he can get—and he still doesn’t feel he’s committed you all to memory.

“Barely eaten at it myself, never mind anyone else—if that answers your question.”

It does.

“We should change that.”

“Why? You hungry?” you ask, meeting his eyes—and he wonders if you can feel it then.

Wonders if you’ve caught on and can hear it rolling around his mind, banging around, nothing able to stop it.

Smirking, you must suddenly arrive at his way of thinking. Your body turns towards him, arm looping around his waist, as his hand cups your cheek.

“S’not too late to tell me to leave,” he whispers.

Your lips curl, but only smooth out into a smile. “I don’t want you anywhere else, Marcus.”

He’s quick, intent—crashing his mouth to yours so you know he feels the same. His other hand sliding around your waist, a groan emitting from your throat, travelling up and kissing his tongue.

And he can’t quiet the voice, the bubble that bounces from one side of his skull to the other. It’s why it escapes through a kiss, muffled, but not enough not to be discernible:

Get on the table, baby.

It’s branded into the air, burnt there. Hanging as your lips halt in their movements against his. Hand hovering, poised, eyes lashes opening to coat him in momentary confusion.

His lips slide into a smirk, your eyes flicking to it, before lifting back up. “Nice glass table like this,” he continues, voice low, husky, “Someone should eat at it.”

Watching as you swallow, your fingers brush against his cheek, against the beard on his cheek. “That so?”

Nodding, he presses a kiss to you. ”Yes,” he groans, nose butting yours. Briefly catching you shudder, “Think you can let me taste you on your nice table?”

Marcus takes the moan as a yes—takes the way you try to position yourself, as another.

His fingers move to your trousers, unbuttoning and unzipping with ease until they’re gliding down your legs, unveiling them inch by inch to him—lit up in the glow from the world outside. Sliding the fabric from your skin with ease, before he helps you, guiding you, positioning you like he would if he were making a table arrangement.

Your legs close, eyes looking at him through your lashes.

Cupping your cheeks with his palms, he pulls your eyes to his. “You okay?”

Nodding, rolling your lips. “Yeah… just like you, is all.”

Fuck, you’re pretty. Beautiful. Stunning. More so when he aids you in removing your other clothes, leaving only the fabric between your thighs while he stares at you. Takes you in because—

You’re a wonder. A sight for sore eyes and an image that should be studied in a gallery. He’d thieve you, would abandon all of his morals and prize you from a wall, let your captured eyes solder holes into him forever.

But he doesn’t need to.

You’re already doing so without him having to do much. They leave a mark, scratching against him.

“I like you too. S’ why I wanna make you feel good, baby. Okay?”

A hand drops, sliding over the fabric between your legs. Feeling it, how much you want this. Him. Tonight. He even hears it as you whimper before he teases your underwear down your legs—the little wet patch quickly caught by his gaze, before he throws them in a similar vein to your other clothes.

“Wanna taste you, baby. Want you to come against my tongue. Will you? Can I?”

His hand continues to clutch your cheek, thumbs swiping a line back and forth as his words register and your breath hitches. But your thighs part, all for him. One hand drops to your leg, fingers drawing shapes, teasing, climbing higher and higher until his other hand mirrors his on your other leg, basking in the way you stare at him, holding onto his sight with every teasing touch.

Not begging. Not asking.

Waiting, ever so patiently.

Perfect. Oh, so fucking perfect.

Sliding around the back of your thighs, his fingers dig, pressing little half-moons into the underside of you, as he parts your legs further—eyes dropping, marvelling, ever thankful for the glow so he can see the way you glisten, the way you need and want him, it all evidenced, able to be captured.

“So wet for me already.”

“Marcus,” you moan.

His name elongated, special. It hits the air—and his ears—in a way that licks heat up his spine. The flames smother his bones when he spreads you with a finger, it circling, coating up to the knuckle in your desire.

Then, he dives.

All tongue flat to your core as the sound of ‘oh fuck’ punches the air. A sound he wants to collect, and earn—licking a stripe before he spells letters against your bundle of nerves, sucking and flicking the tip as your nails grasp his hair.

You make sounds that make him feel holy, that could bring him to his goddamn knees. He wants to pull them all from you, more so when his name begins to join them—when you’re panting, pleading, please, Marcus, fuck right there, Marcus.

He grins against you, tasting and flicking his tongue over the bundle of nerves that has your hips arching into his face. But Marcus continues, placing a hand on your stomach, pinning you down, giving and giving—

Then he pauses. Purposefully stops, just blowing a cool breath to earn a whimper.

Your eyes steam him. Narrowed, eyebrows dropped to shape them. Your breath ragged, body thrumming, vibrating with how close you were.

Shooting you another grin, he plunges his tongue inside you—relishing how your walls tighten around him. Enjoying the way you taste, the way your fingers have found a home in his hair, tugging and pulling, nails all against his scalp.

The air is smeared in gasps, moans. A chorus of his name. All of it falling into the air around him and you, becoming a song, all instrumental, rising to a crest, ready to crash.

Fuck, he wants nothing more. Marcus wants to be travelling home and still be able to taste how sweet you are, to hear the noises you make because they’re sliced somewhere in his brain.

“You gonna come for me, baby? Gonna make sure I can taste you when I’m in bed alone tonight.”

You whimper.

His tongue continues to lap, to take everything you’ll give him as he slides two fingers in. Your walls tightening, gripping him—all vice-like and needy. And Marcus is pleading, if only internally, for you to scorch him, singe and sear yourself into him.

“S-so close, M-Marcus—”

He knows. “I know. Let go for me. Be good for me.”

And you do.

You really fucking do.

He feels you tighten, and tense, before his tongue is flooded, your legs shake, and your toes curl. His movements continue, brutally guiding you over the edge, pushing and pushing until he feels you loosen your hold on his hair—trying to wiggle from his mouth.

Marcus isn’t sure he’s ever felt so good.

Positioning himself so he’s stood at full height, staring down at you, trying to capture your breath—lit up by the star-filled sky and sparkling city. You’re beautiful, he thinks for the billionth time tonight.

“You’re everything,” he whispers, watching your eyes open, landing on him, taking him in.

Your lips spread into a lust-filled smile, tinged with exhaustion, but there’s a spark there, too. Something having been awoken, ready, riling itself up.

He suspects he won’t be going home tonight, not that he really wanted to.

"Not to rush you, but we'll be late for the movie." Your lips press to his cheek when he steps into your space, apology stitched there—usually so punctual, on time. "I just need to grab a jacket if that's okay?" He grins, bites the inside of his cheek as he nods, hearing you dart off—taking the few short steps further into your place, spotting the table, walking to it. Immediately, memories knock into him. Loitering, pacing. Until his eyes land on the fingerprints, his thumb ghosting over it—finding it the perfect match. All knowing, and realising. It makes his throat dry as heat licks up his spine as you emerge, fiddling with your jacket. "You're... um, not cleaned your table." "I've cleaned up where you... you know, but not your handprints. No." He huffs out a laugh, tracing his bottom lip with his thumb. "Why's that?" You smirk, bashfully, trying to disguise it by biting the inside of your cheek. "Guess I like the memory of you being here." "And, what I did to you." "Very astute, Agent Pike. You wanna head out or do you wanna see if my pillow still smells like your hair product?" He slaps you on the ass for that.

AN: first time writing marcus. this was supposed to be 1k, the original was 6k. but i felt happier with this 🙈 pls be nice.

#marcus pike x reader #marcus pike x f!reader #marcus pike x female reader #marcus pike x reader smut #marcus pike x you #pedro pascal characters x reader #pedrostories #the mentalist fanfiction #pedro pascal character fanfiction #marcus pike smut

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last-starry-sky · 1 month

Text

innocent!reader x graves - part 3!!!!

(original idea inspired by this post by the lovely @shotmrmiller - part 1 here - part 2 here)

NSFW - MIND THE WARNINGS - MDNI: (slut shaming, a lil bit of body horror-ish stuff, pov switches, lots of pet names (as per usual lol), dub-con if you squint (reader is a bit drunk so ymmv), fingering, look me in the eyes and tell me graves isn’t the type of guy to pack heat 24/7, i’m really leaning into how much of a virgin reader is so buckle in, no hard smut (again, sorry lmao))

You were standing around the kitchen island with your mother. It was your usual morning ritual, but this morning was different somehow. You just couldn’t place it. Things seemed . . . weird. Off. Just a little to the left of normal. Like how the sun felt a too bright, blasting in the front windows like a floodlight, far too bright for the early morning.

You squinted at the bleached out white walls and shiny tile floor as your mom was cradled your face in her hands. They were cold. Your cheeks were cold. You shuddered in her grasp, peeling her off you as you stepped back. Your foot hit the leg of a stool behind you. You plopped down, falling right into the cushioned seat.

“How was it sweetie? You have fun?” she said picking up her coffee cup with a smile so wide you wondered if it was hurting her.

Her voice is unbearably high-pitched and sweet; like cold syrup pouring in your ear. It took you a moment to realize you had heard those words before, that this was not a dream.

It's a memory.

Oh yeah, you realized, this was the morning after you went on your first date. You felt the stupid smile you had walked in with return to your face. Your first date with Phil.

The thought of him warmed your brain. His hand in yours as he led you to the front door. How he’d let you doze off in his car on the way home. How warm and protected you felt laying against him by the bonfire. The memory was comforting, creating a mix of pleasant feelings in your chest.

“Yeah mom,” you replied automatically, “had a lot of fun.” It was the exact answer you had given her that morning.

Her hands clenched around her steaming coffee cup, knuckles white.

“Tell. me. how. it. went.” She said punctuating every word, smile gone taught; practically carved into her cheeks.

Weird, a rouge blip of a thought came to your mind. Those were the right words . . . but her voice, the way she said them. It was far too terse. This was not how you remem-

“Really good,” you responded on queue, still dreamy and automatic. It was like you were on a track, all of the lines already set and all you had to do was say them as they came, no matter the parts of your conscious brain screamed at you that something was wrong. You have to stop. You have to stop now.

“That’s good!” she said flipping back into her overly-happy demeanor so fast it gave you whiplash. “He seems like such a nice man. Your dad just wouldn’t stop talking about him after you left!”

That was . . . normal. You still felt weird, squirming in your seat and looking at your hands just to look at anything but her. Maybe if you kept going everything would go back to norm-

“He is nice,” you said before you could stop yourself. “So nice. I’m glad you both like him, too. We want-”

She interrupted you.

"Oh, but I don’t, honey.”

“What?” you gasped off script, cracking away whatever part of the memory had it’s tenuous hold on you. This isn’t how this went. You remember this morning. You remember what she said. You know-

“You heard me. Whore,” she said, smile dripping off her face. Her words were like a black hole. Void of emotion and sucking you in with a terror like oblivion as the unreal brightness of the room turned dimmer and dimmer behind her.

Your mouth fell open. You tried to do something, anything: turn around, backpedal, run, but you couldn’t. Of course you couldn’t. You never can run away in a dream. You were forced to watch your mother’s face swirl off into the cheery kitchen around her as her voice turned acrid and shrill.

“Don’t play dumb with me you little slut.” Her eyes falling inward into black pits that shone back at you. Mirrors into your own guilty soul. “I know what you do when you’re alone in your room. I can hear you. And now, even that’s not enough? Look at you. I spent all that time, raising you right, taking you to church, putting the fear of God in you, and still you ended up like this. What would your father think if he saw you now? Letting a stranger touch his daughter, in public no less!”

“Mom!” you managed to gasp out, cheeks burning. How did she know? How did she find out?

“Don’t mother me!” her squaking, multitudinous voice called out, echoing around the little kitchen as a pit twisted deeper and deeper in your gut.

“You think you’re still my little girl? Look at where you’ve done. What you’re planning to do.” You felt like God himself was there shaming you. The cup shattered in her hand, spraying blue ceramic in slow motion. “I sure hope you enjoy your night with him because you’ve made your own bed now.”

The truck sways, bouncing up and down and then left to right, waking you suddenly from your soft, childlike sleep. You hear Phil mumble a quiet ‘sonofabitch’ above you as he corrected the truck with his left hand while squeezing your waist protectively with his right. You’re still right where you’re supposed to be: cuddled safely into his chest.

You crack open your eyes a slit. The cab is dark, interrupted only by the irregular pass of streetlights that flooded the cab suddenly with light only to plunge it back into inky, silent dark a second later.

You can feel his bicep flex, tensing to hold you close, behind your head. When he’s got the truck back safely in his lane, his muscles in his arm relax. He sighs into your hair and you feel his hand move back down to your thigh, the rough skin of his fingers slowly stroked at the exposed skin south of your skirt. You sigh softly, shivering at his touch, burying your face in his shirt as you stretch yourself in his lap.

His hand stops when you move, turning to look down at you. It lays there, warm and strong, on your thigh.

“I wake y’up, sweets?” he asked, his breath rustling your hair.

You squirmed in his lap as you shook your head, stretching your neck and wiping at your eyes. His hand tensed on your leg.

“What happened back there?” you asked sleepily. The alcohol had made your tongue heavy and clumsy in your mouth. You could still taste strawberries when you swallowed.

“Ah. Oh that? Just a . . . just a log in the road,” he said with a pause and a shrug.

He patted your thigh once before reaching up to take the wheel with both hands. He let out a soft groan as he canted his hips, shuffling your body on top of him as he readjusted himself in his seat. His eyes were focused straight down the road. It made you sad to lose his touch but you understood. Out the windshield you could see the road he was driving you down, if only what was illuminated by the headlights. Pine trees thickly lined both sides of the unfamiliar two lane road, interrupted only by the odd set of mailboxes that signaled a line of houses down hidden dirt roads. Everything was dark green and black. No stars. No moon. You didn’t know he lived so far out in the country, but then again, you had never been brave enough to ask.

“You okay?” you asked quietly, still not quite woken up. You wrapped your arm around his ribs, relaxing into him, stealing his warmth.

“Yeah,” he said moving his left hand, letting it drip down the steering wheel until it just barely hung off the bottom. “Musta been a raccoon or somethin’ in the road. Got distracted.”

He let go of the steering wheel, bringing his hand to grip your thigh where his other hand had been just a few minutes ago, right on the hem of your skirt. His thumb swiped back and forth, gently tracing from the soft, sensitive skin of your inner thigh to the top of your leg. The motion sent tingles racing to your core. You moved your leg a fraction of an inch to relieve the pressure but had to bite back a moan. Oh no, you thought tipping your head against his chest. You could feel how wet you still were.

“Saw it too late ‘n had to swerve,” he added as an afterthought. You wondered if he had taken his eyes off the road to watch you now; if he could see you with your eyes closed, lip caught in your teeth, blissed out and squirming against his leg.

He spread his fingers, pressing his warm palm flat to your leg, as he brushed up under your dress. You let your head loll back against his bicep behind you, unable to to keep your next moan from escaping.

“Now I got you distractin’ me,” he said with a hiss into your hair, sliding his hand up further. His fingers brushed at the edge of your panties. You squirmed under him as he danced ever so close to where you wanted him. Needed him.

“Phil,” you sighed.

You were just about to crack, to grab his hand with your own and make him touch you, when he stopped, resuming his absent stroking.

“Hold on jus’ a little bit longer, darlin’,” he said with a squeeze to your upper thigh. “Last turn’s comin’ up.”

He slowed down fractionally, taking a wide left turn that swayed the whole truck, the driver’s side wheels falling down into the slope of the ditch before pulling back onto the road. You bounced in his lap as the truck transitioned from the rough, but still somewhat maintained, concrete country road, to dirt and gravel. The trees lined the narrow road even closer than before, choking out the light from the increasingly rare streetlights.

He took his free hand out from your dress, nudged in between your legs and his pants and adjusted himself. He closed his eyes for but a moment and groaned as he palmed his cock. It made you blush, you weren’t exactly used to men acting like this around you, but it also made you wickedly excited. He was like this because of you. You had made this strong, older man, a soldier, race you home on a dark rainy road just so he could get his hands on you.

He put his hand chastely on your waist for a moment, flexing his fingers into your skin. It was as if he was weighing his choices. When you sighed into his touch he let out a held in groan. His choice was made. He skimmed his hand down your body to the press of your legs. When he got to the edge of your dress, he slid his hand under, bunching it against his sleeve as he sought out his prize.

It was the tip of his middle finger that first grazed your pussy. It made you jump, his touch punching out a gasp even through the cloth of your panties. He kept going, pushing his whole hand to palm at your warm, aching core. He ground the bottom of his palm against you, fingers stroked at your weeping hole, earning a pitiful whine into his chest. The brute, indirect pressure was making your legs shake.

You grabbed at his arm, looking up at him with pleading eyes. His eyes stayed stubbornly on the road. “Phil . . . please,” you begged. “Please-”

He cut you off by twisting his hand, curling his fingers under the waistband of your underwear to stroke at your silken folds in a single, fluid motion. You clenched, nails digging into his arm as you squeaked out a silent Ah as your eyes flew shut.

The truck slowed to a crawl, headlights swaying back and forth, illuminating the same frame of unfamiliar road and dark, foreboding trees, as he concentrated on slipping his fingers through your untouched pussy. His ability to drive completely shot. You were lost too in the overload of new sensations. Your wetness covered his fingers, dulling the rough texture of his skin. He used his strength to press almost too hard as he made a circuit through your labia, up to your clit, finally swirling down and around your hole. You’d never had someone else touch you there, and even your own “experiments”, alone and frustrated in your bed, hadn’t yielded very much pleasure. But this, the tingling, shooting pleasure coiling tight in your core that had you open-mouth panting. This could be something.

He took his remaining hand off the steering wheel to wrap both his arms around you, leaving his whole body flexed on to the brake like a vice. He pressed his face into your hair as he rolled his hips against you with a moan.

“Fuck, baby,” he said with a flick of his fingers across your clit that made you flinch. He was completely blissed out - his voice rough and heady. The combination made you shiver against him. “Fuck. We can’t-” he said tipping your jaw up, forcing you to face him again as a blush crept over your cheeks, “-can’t do this here.” He pressed an open mouthed kiss against your lips before pulling back, his nose sliding against yours. “Open your mouth for me now, babydoll,” he said taking his hand away from your pussy to peel your bottom lip open with his thumb, your own slick painting your jaw.

Somehow, someway, he did manage to pull his brain out of his cock and drive that last stretch of road to his house. As much as he had wanted to throw his plans to the wind and just fuck you in the truck he reminded himself that this was your first time. He needed to make it good for you.

No high school specials tonight. That wouldn’t make you stay.

He let himself indulge in one more sleepy, dazed kiss before he mechanically went through the motions to shut off the car. Slide the clutch into park, unbuckle, radio off, lights off, turn the key in the ignition. He had to move you off his lap to get out first before he could scoop you back up into his arms to bring you inside. When he leaned in to pull you out he saw his jacket crumpled into the corner of the passenger seat. You nuzzled your head into the crook of his neck, almost ready to fall asleep again. A corner of your bright purse stuck out. It was tangled inside his jacket, almost completely hidden. He hugged you tight to his chest as you shivered from the misting rain. Your phone was probably in there too.

Shame, he thought as he slammed the door shut with his free hand, you’ll probably be looking for that in the morning.

He didn’t set you down until he got to the front door, not that you protested. Your useless heels would have sunk into the mud of the lawn anyway. It was still cold night despite the weather clearing. He liked feeling of you shivering against his side in the dark as he unlocked his front door. It wasn’t longer than a moment before he had the deadbolt and door unlocked, shooing you inside ahead of him.

You ambled in, tipsy and disoriented, in the dark, heels clacking in an unsteady gait across the wood floor. He listened with amusement as you made your way around his unfamiliar home with only the sparse outside light to guide you. Sometimes he forgot how dark it could get out here in the country.

He stopped at the dinner table, taking his time, unloading his usual carry: wallet from his left pocket, phone from his right. Each made a light clink against his keys as he tossed them onto the table. He reached around his back and unclipped his holster from inside his slacks. His clip followed shortly. They both made a weighty thunk on the table. He rubbed at the sore spot the grip had worn into his back, suppressing a groan. It didn’t help that his holster had slid to the middle of his back, making him adjust the way he sat the whole drive home with you wriggling in his lap.

Once his watch was off his wrist and his shoes kicked behind him, he walked silently back to the door and locked the deadbolt. The sharp CLACK of the metal had always been comforting, but now, it was exciting. A sign that everything was ready. That you were safe now. Finally. he thought with a sly smile creeping across his face. Locked inside his home (could be yours too, in a heartbeat, if you asked). With no one around for miles to bother you. Right were you were always meant to be, darling.

The only safer place you could be is wrapped in his arms, and he planned to remedy that problem as soon as he found you.

It didn’t take much of a hunt to find you. You’d made a light thump as you found the end of the couch with your hip in the living room and had decided it was as good a place as any to lean against. He had to give you credit, you had hauled yourself up onto the arm of the sofa all by yourself. It was almost cute to watch you struggle to keep your balance as you reached down for your ankle straps, little frustrated noises falling from your lips.

He was quiet in his socks. He could tell you hadn’t heard him when you jumped as his hand touched your knee. He laughed at it as he slid up your thigh boldly.

“Phil . . .” you said grabbing his belt, looking up with pleading eyes.

“Need help, baby?” he teased, trailing his hand back down to hook under your knee. You let out a gasp, crumpling his shirt at his waist as your fingers clamped suddenly together. He held your hips with his other hand, hiking your leg up to his hip, allowing him to smoothly slot himself in between your legs.

This was going so fucking well.

It took a little bit of fiddling in the dark, but he managed to unclasp your left heel, letting it fall with a loud THUNK against the floor. It didn’t help that there was not another sound in the house beside your rasping breaths. You were such a cute little thing like this: holding on for dear life, whining into his chest, barely able to breathe already. He smoothed his hand up your leg until it met his other hand at your waist. He couldn’t help but give you a little squeeze. You yelped, head shooting up out of his chest to lay your pleading eyes on him.

He pressed his advantage immediately. He chuckled and leaned down to peck a gentle, toying kiss on your lips. His hand was already moving down to your remaining shoe as he pulled away, a small, disappointed oh falling from your lips. This time, he wouldn’t let you hide. He moved his hand from your waist to the small of your back, rough fingers catching on the smooth, clingy fabric of your dress. You were red cheeked and panting, a small ah all the noise you could make, when he pressed you forward, forcing you flush against his front. Only an inch of needy, heated space separated his cock from your barely-clothed pussy and, good fucking God, did he need it.

Need it. Need it. Fucking need-ed-it.

Your ankle in his hand, he deftly popped your hip open. He tilted forward that last, cloying centimeter to feel you. His eyes fell shut as he pressed to you with a groan. You were so warm. He could feel it through his pants. You let out a shamefully high-pitched whine in return. He felt his trapped cock jump in his pants. He was throbbing and, fuck, so were you. He couldn’t feel it yet, but he knew you were wet. How could you not be? All that excitement in the car had to have your pussy working overtime.

Your second heel fell to the floor.

“Phil . . .” you whined in the silence that followed, pawing at his sides and back. His dress shirt made soft swishing noises under your nails. It was almost like music.

He chanced looking down at you. Fuck did you look gorgeous. Your skin shimmered in the dark with sweat. The first thing that caught his eye was your breasts pushed against his ribs, that little silver cross hidden safely away, swallowed entirely by your chest. Your eyes were huge, with pupils blown wide and glassy with tears as you looked up at him. You were chewing on your bottom lip again, the irritation making it all the more red and kissable. The more blissed out and needy he made you, the more irresistible you became.

A perfect, vicious circle. A positive feedback loop.

He let go of your ankle to place his hand on your cheek. You were beyond flush, more like burning. When he felt you fold your leg around his hip of your own volition he couldn’t help but feel satisfied. He rutted forward into you. It was a rough pleasure that did almost nothing for both of you, but it was something. A tease in this slow, slow dance he had been leading you on, a preview of what was to come, maybe even a reward for holding on this long, for doing so so well.

“Doin’ okay, sweets?” he asked, petting your burning cheek with his thumb.

You nodded with a bat of your lashes. You straightened your back suddenly to make yourself taller when you saw him leaning down to kiss you. You were still so excited, enthusiastic.

Trusting.

He let all the chains come off. Long gone were the quick, chaste pecks at your front door. The ones that drew you into him. A delicate summer moth hypnotized by a porch light, never to escape. Even the “real” kisses he’d had with you outside the restaurant and in the truck were blown away. He held your jaw open with an iron grip while he forced his tongue in your mouth. He was sloppy, aggressive, taking what he wanted. He would only momentarily break away to nip at your open, panting lips, before diving back in. It amazed him how submissive you were. You weren’t fighting him in any way, just let him control everything while you let out an occasional moan or whine. It took him longer than he wanted to admit to figure out why that was.

You’d never been kissed like this before. How could you have an opinion on how you liked it when you’d never- Fuck, he forgot. How could he forget? You’d never done anything before. He’s got a little virgin in his hands, whining and squirming, practically begging for it.

Hmm, he thought. Could he really . . . could he make you beg for it?

He squeezed the side of your thigh as he rolled another thrust against you, groaning against your lips. You yelped at the pain of his fingers biting into your skin, but it dissolved into another high-pitched whine. Fuck, could listen to that all night. Your legs tightened around his waist, keeping him close.

“Phil,” you sighed as he rolled his hands up your thighs, dragging your dress up with it. “Phil please.”

Oh fuck, he thought. She’s really going to do it.

“Please what, darlin’?” he asked hoarsely, resting his forehead against yours, watching you squirm as he tried to pull your dress out from under you.

“Please . . .” you trailed off shyly, trying to make him stop by pawing at his hands. Not that you could.

“Gotta tell me what you want, sweetheart,” he said voice drawn gruff and dry.

He balled the stretchy fabric of your dress in his fists and pulled. It resisted, pulling ever so slowly from where it was trapped under you. The sound itself was delicious tension. More music to his ears. It was a long, soft noise as the knit stretched to it's limit in the quiet of the room. You tried to turn your head away, to hide your pants and whines, but he prevented it by shoving his face into your neck. He kissed and nipped at your neck until, without fanfare, your skirt popped out from under you.

You slammed a hand to his chest before he could make another move. This time, he obeyed you.

“Phil!” you plead, red faced from embarrassment, “Can we . . . can we not- um can we go . . . ” You caught your breath for another couple moments, wiggling your knees on either side of his waist, before turning to him. “Can we do this in your bed . . . please?”

He hauled you up by your thighs, throwing you up onto his chest without another word. You scrambled to throw your arms around his neck as he backed away from the couch.

“Yes, ma’am,” he whispered into the side of your head.

#mw2 #graves/reader #graves x reader #cod fanfic #starry writes #call of duty #cod mw2 #here i am once again blue-balling my audience by delaying the smut for another chapter :)#sorry this took a fucking month i was outta my groove #also. just lookit me using dividers and shit like a real author

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