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fangirl-dot-com · 8 days

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🛏 Too Many Beds

*part of the reverse tropes series*

Pairing: Lando Norris x Engineer!Reader Genre: Fluff/Humor Summary: Lando had a master plan to get you in his bed. Too bad everyone seems to mess it up. And who knew you were terrified of bed bugs?

this was so much fun to write and I'm so excited for this mini series! New upload schedule will probably be Reputations on Friday and Reverse Tropes on Saturday!

TAG LIST CLOSED

Your hand gripped your suitcase as you stood in the lobby of the hotel. Of course, McLaren thought that it would be a good idea for some more team bonding before the season started and book an entire hotel. However, they forgot to mention that some of the people had to share rooms.

How you got placed with Lando, you didn’t know. You had seen Oscar snickering earlier when Zac had read the list of who shared what room. Your face was beat red as you tried to hide in your team zip up. Your eyes flickered to Lando, only to find him fast asleep against the window of the bus. There was some drool on his lip, and anyone else would have found that semi-disgusting.

But not you.

It was kind of…endearing.

But now that you were getting your key card and were in the elevator with a very sleepy Lando, your heartrate increased. You had tried to get your own room when you had gotten there, but Zac was intent with you sharing.

Something about driver and engineer comradery.

The floor before when Oscar got off, he had leaned over and whispered, “Have fun with the one bed.”

That statement made your face even redder. Of course that would happen to you. It was straight out of Tumblr or Wattpad. The one trope that you seemed to hate over everything. One bed normally meant that it was a single or a queen. And you were known for flopping everywhere.

Poor Lando probably wouldn’t get to sleep before the first rounds of development.

Although he was sleepy, Lando, on the other hand, was vibrating with excitement.

He had the whole thing planned out. He had requested to be put in a room with you. And then he swapped rooms with Oscar, because the Aussie had a girlfriend, ergo he had a single bed room. It was going to be perfect. Oscar would get the room with two beds, and Lando would just have to share a bed with you.

The Briton had had heart eyes for you ever since you joined his rookie season in 2019. And when you had been promoted to his race engineer, the crush he had grew tenfold. He could see your face getting more red the longer it took to get to the room.

“You ready?” he asked you before he used his card to unlock the door.

“Let’s get this over with,” you muttered, just wanting to sleep. At this point, you were planning to go to bed right away so that you didn’t have to deal with Lando crawling into bed behind you. You’d be asleep at that point, giving yourself no time to ogle at his chest (if he slept with a shirt off as most guys did.)

The click of the lock indicated that the door could be opened and Lando took the initiative. This was it.

Lando was going to live his dream.

Except, his heart dropped when he noticed that there wasn’t one bed.

There wasn’t even two beds.

The room had three beds.

What. the. actual. fu....

Lando was going to kill whoever messed this up. His heart dropped farther when he saw your eyes kind of light up at the sight of beds to choose from. The McLaren driver bit his lip as he assessed the problem.

You missed Lando’s agitation and put your things on the bed by the window. You turned to Lando, now confused at his pinched eyebrows.

“Did you want the one by the window?” you asked, suddenly mad at yourself for just going ahead without asking the driver his preference.

Lando immediately shook his head. “I like sleeping by the bathroom.”

You gave him a smile. “Ok. Can I shower real fast? I go to sleep a little early.”

That was a lie. You just didn’t want to be awake when Lando went to bed. Who knows what you’d be staring at. Your mind immediately went to the abs and v-line. You shook your head, trying to rid yourself of the unholy thoughts.

You quickly opened your suitcase, grabbed your pajamas, and disappeared behind the bathroom door.

Once Lando was sure that you wouldn’t come out, he quickly pulled out his phone and texted Oscar. It was to his horror that Oscar had sent a picture of the singular king that was supposed to hold you and Lando in tonight.

Except that now it would be for Oscar and Oscar only.

The Briton wanted to rip his hair out. He started pacing before he knew it.

How could he fix this?

He could lie and say he had separation anxiety and needed to sleep with someone. But you’d see right through and ask who else he’d shared a bed with.

He could spill a drink on your bed? That also wouldn’t work because then you’d question why he had a drink around your things while you were in the shower. Lando didn’t want to come off as a giant creep.

He was still pacing when he heard the door open up.

His body turned to face you, but he immediately averted his eyes. Not because you were undressed, but because your pajamas were the cutest thing on you. You were wearing one of those silk tank tops with the smallest shorts possible.

Lando watched as your feet got closer to your bed. His thoughts were flying around at 100 miles an hour. He had to do something quickly. Your hand pulled back the bedding when Lando yelled.

“Hold on. I think I saw some bugs on my bed and yours.”

The screech that you let out made Lando wince. You reeled back as though the duvet had burnt you. You quickly made your way closer to Lando.

“Where are the bed bugs?”

Lando couldn’t really tell, but he thinks he can hear your teeth chattering. You were getting antsy.

“Are you that scared of some small bugs?”

You crept closer to Lando.

“My childhood house got infected and we had to move. I also got such a bad infection from bites.”

Lando immediately felt terrible. He didn’t know. If he had, he wouldn’t have said anything and just sucked it up and slept in his own bed. He looked at you. He could see that you were close to tears. His arm immediately went around your shoulders and brought you closer.

You huffed. “Can we go down to see if they have any other rooms on our floor?”

The brunet nodded. He looked you up and down before he turned around and dug through his suitcase. You wondered what he was doing before a hoodie hit your chest. It was the dark green one that you absolutely loved on him. You gave him a confused look.

“Ah, your pajamas.”

Oh.

You looked down and realized that you were just in a very thin tank.

Without a bra.

And the room was cold.

Your face flushed as you quickly pulled the hoodie over your head. The ends of the hoodie landed mid-thigh. You knew Lando was taller than you, but you didn’t expect his hoodie to fall that far down.

Lando couldn’t take his eyes off you and you giggled and did a little spin, showing off how the green material looked on you.

You were so worried that you’d have a staring problem, that you completely missed Lando’s staring problems.

Once you were done, you headed to the doorway, Lando hot on your feet. He should have felt guilty about lying, but you were in his clothes and that made every feeling go away. The elevator ride was quiet, but comforting instead of awkward. The ding of the machine signaled that you two made it to the ground floor.

Lando stepped out first, followed by you. Before you got to the front desk, Lando pulled the back of the hoodie, making you halt. You gave him a confused look. He dug his wallet out of his back pocket and handed you his card.

“I know you’re a bit scared of the bugs, so I’ll handle it. You want to get us some snacks?”

Lando melted at your eyes lighting up as you nodded. You wordlessly took his card and spun around, now walking in the direction of the little shop. He knew that you were always picky with snacks, so he’d have a bit of time.

He exhaled heavily as he walked up to the front desk. The receptionist cocked an eyebrow, probably not expecting anyone at this late hour.

His hands rested on the counter.

“So, me and a friend are staying in room 444, and I might have seen a few bed bugs on one of the beds.”

Lando winced as he lied. The lady’s eyes widened and she started typing.

“Ok, we’ll have someone come up and inspect it with one of our bug-dogs.”

Another wince. “Is that really necessary? Can we just move rooms?”

Some more typing. “I don’t think that’s possible sir. We have to inspect the room just in case. If it’s all clear, then the room will still be able to be slept in.”

Lando looked around before leaning in slightly.

“Ok, here’s the deal. I’m in love with the friend that I’m staying with. We were supposed to have a room with a single bed so I could make a move. But something happened and we got placed in a room with three beds instead of one. I panicked and lied about the bugs. Is there any way I can just switch rooms? I'll pay extra.”

Lando had hope in his eyes as he heard more typing.

“I’m sorry sir, but there aren’t any more rooms available for tonight. You’ll have to stay in the room you have.”

He hung his head as he nodded.

“Sorry for the inconvenience,” he muttered. When he turned around, he was met with you holding multiple snacks and some drinks. He hoped that you hadn’t heard anything. Thankfully, you didn’t mention his conversation.

As you walked into the elevator you asked, “So do we get to move rooms?”

Lando sighed. “There aren’t any available.”

You chewed on your lip. “Maybe, we can look at the middle bed and see if there are any there?”

He could kiss you right then and there. Lando went quiet for a minute.

“Only if that’s ok with you?”

You immediately nodded.

“I just don’t want any bugs on me. I think you’ll be able to keep me safe.”

The attempt at the wink that followed made Lando laugh as he got off the elevator. You couldn’t help but giggle as you followed him. Lando thought it was the cutest thing he ever heard. When you stepped into the room, you first headed to your luggage to pull it off the “bug infested” bed.

You placed it high on one of the dressers. Lando followed in suit.

Before you knew it, you and Lando were both under the covers of the middle bed after a full inspection that it was safe.

Lando was a bit skeptical that you hadn’t pushed to inspect the bed you were supposed to sleep in. Part of him wanted to believe that you also wanted to share a bed. But he wouldn’t dwell on the thought.

The snacks that you bought were quickly consumed, laughter shared between the two of you as you watched videos on Lando’s phone. You didn’t know exactly when it happened, but your head had started to rest on his shoulder. Lando took this opportunity to put his arm around the back of your neck.

Lando remained oblivious and was sure that this plan was working. You were scared and found sanctuary in his arms.

Except for the fact that you had overheard everything. Your phone was currently buzzing with messages from Oscar but you’d never let Lando know that.

Well.

You sighed as you unattached yourself from Lando’s side. You turned your face so that you could look into his eyes.

Half the time, you didn’t even know what color they were. Some days they were the brightest blue, others they looked more green, and the in the shade they were brown.

You smirked as you got closer.

“So, what did you tell the lady about getting me into your bed hm?”

You watched as a blush invaded Lando’s face before he put his hands over his face. Tik Tok was abandoned on the bedsheets below.

“I’m so sorry,” he muttered. You brought your hands up and peeled his own away from his face. Lando’s eyes flickered as he looked for some type of malice on your face. However, he only saw a smirk and a fiery look. He inhaled sharply.

“I have had a major crush on you since 2019. And when Zac said he’d be pairing people up, I begged him to get a room with one bed for us. We were supposed to switch with Oscar and this room was supposed to only have one bed. But, I guess Zac took it upon himself to already do it so I wouldn’t have to switch, but we did anyway.”

“Lando, I know. You think Oscar could keep a secret for that long?”

The brunet paused, blinked, stared at you, and blinked again.

“I’m going to kill Oscar.”

You giggled, making Lando melt once again.

“You’re not going to kill Oscar.”

A grumble escaped his lips as they turned into a pout. You took this moment to lean down and lightly peck them.

Once again, Lando froze.

“So, should we actually get some sleep?”

He could only nod his head, still not comprehending that you had actually kissed him and his plan worked semi-well.

You turned around and rested your head on the pillow. Just a few moments later, Lando’s arm found a home in the crook of your waist. He gently pulled, bringing your back closer to his chest.

So maybe he didn’t actually sleep shirtless, but that was fine because his head dug into your neck, just at your hairline. Lando breathed in deeply, getting situated.

Maybe the one bed trope did work.

You felt him smirk against your neck, but you thought he was close to sleep.

Until he spoke up.

“Sleep tight Y/n. Don’t let the bed bugs bite.”

“I’m going to murder you instead.”

y/n_l/n has posted

y/n_l/n I let the love bug bite 🐞 🌲

liked by mclaren, lando_norizz, papayaduo, oscarpiastri, and 104,948 others

y/nxlando UHHH HARD LAUNCH??

papaya.nation I knew that sweatshirt looked familiar when they walked in the paddock today!

landonorris4 the fact that he had a back up hoodie as well

formulala_delulu the couple who matches together - stays together 💚

oscarpiastri good to see that it all worked out in the end 😌

y/n_l/n let's not do that again, ok?

landonorris I thought you liked it tho 😙

y/n_l/n let it be know, you don't possess any rizz

oscarpiastri 🫵😂

loscar I need to know the lore behind this

norris4ever maybe he'll get a win now that he doesn't have to pine after y/n

mclaren814 my parents!

TAG LIST: @fionaschicken @myxticmoon @cherry-piee @blueberry64857959 @glitterquadricorn @lizzypiastri @sam-is-lost @spilled-coffee-cup @ilove-tswizzle @the-untamed-soul @allenajade-ite @starssfall @torchbearerkyle @judespoision @halfdeadsage @juniper-july19 @severewobblerlightdragon @thatgirlmj @gods-menace @ineedafictionalman @namgification @dark-night-sky-99 @samantha-chicago @2pagenumb @treehouse-mouse @fangirl125reader @megatrilss1885 @kagatinkita @itsjustkhaos @nikfigueiredo @awekbachira @vellicora @skepvids @sunrizef1 @stan-josie @fanficweasley @hiireadstuff @barcelonaloverf1life @c-losur3 @graciewrote @bruhhhhhhhhehhhhhhh @tallrock35 @ashy-kit @kat-s2 @minkyungseokie @lozzamez3 @leslieis-crying @adventuresofrose @lighttsoutlewis @e-nonsense

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winterrrnight · 3 months

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new beginnings

navigation

pairing: stepdad!soft!rafe x mom!reader

detailed summary: You weren’t living such a great life. Your husband had turned his back towards you and was drowned in his addiction to drugs, not giving any mind to what’s happening in the world around him. You knew you couldn’t stay with him, and let him continue ruining your life. So at the next moment you get, you free yourself from him and get a divorce, finally having a chance to breathe.

You were now alone with your toddler, and you knew you had to give her a life which seems perfect even without her father. She became your best friend, your whole world, your favorite person ever. Sage was a spitting image of you, a little enthusiastic kid but very clear at heart.

As much as you tried, you always felt the lack of another parent in Sage’s life. Even though she never showed it, a big smile always on her face as she was always playing around your house, you knew it was best she had two loving parents. But you were so busy with your job, and taking care of her, you never had a chance to go out on your own.

But then, almost like a hurricane, Rafe Cameron walked into your life. He occupied your mind like nothing else, and as you saw Sage loving his company more and more, you fell more for him, and he was very lovingly married into your family.

You never knew love can come knocking down your door at such odd times, when you had your child and no one seemed to take interest in you. But Rafe did. He loved you both with his entire heart, and changed your entire perspective on love.

This is the story of finding comfort and love when it seems the world has stopped spinning, when you feel you’re worthless, and you start to limit your own experiences. It’s about letting your door open for someone at a stage in life when it’s all too risky. It’s about trust, and letting yourself free from the chains you’ve so hurtfully wound yourself in.

SERIES CHAPTERS:

and so we meet - chapter 1

here we are again - chapter 2

familiar yet unrecognizable faces - chapter 3

the blue in your eyes - chapter 4

ONESHOTS:

BLURBS:

CONCEPTS:

HEADCANONS:

content warnings: as this is a wip, there isn't much to tell. but, I can assure it won't have any NSFW content in it, or any other dark themes. it may bring up drug addiction, but appropriate warnings will always specified at the start of each part so you can avoid what you don't want to read!

update: the series is now also being posted on wattpad! check it out here and follow me at _starkeyfilms if you feel like! <3

taglist: @runningfrom2am @saccharinesammie @maybankslover @totalswag @madelynie @chenslucy @ietss @elle-mp3 @viawritesstuff @wallsdreams @tahliac11 @sadfury @newsies-pape-girl @jamesbuckybarneswify @xxxlaura @thatsthewaythechrissycrumbles @callsignwidow @starkowswife @rafeinterlude @rylie-m @zulema222 @karmasloverrr @leixwhite02 @congratsloserr @rubixgsworld @dilvcv @fandom-life-12 @drewstarkeyswifehoe @jjchaer @f4ll-for-you @fishingirl12 @wearemadeofstardust0 @drewsmusee @stvrligghtt @rafegirly @leighbronk @addriaenne @rafesdrew @bejeweledreverie @crgirlsworld @valenftcrush @lillywildly @julovesurmom @raf3sgff @drewstarkey1bae @aerangi @moneymaybank @spideysimpossiblegirl @the-tortured-poets-depxrtment @mellyie

please let me know if you would like to be added or removed!

edith speaks: oh my god! this idea is absolutely thriving in my docs and I knew it had to be so much more than just a fic so here it is!! I hope you all really enjoy reading this :) please keep on interacting with me through my asks, discussing headcanons about the fic, and any little thoughts you may have! it's my absolute favourite thing ever to talk about fics <3 you can always talk to me as an anon (I accept anon emojis!) or just as you want! 🤍

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loveindefinitely · 4 months

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༊*·˚ FOREVER WINTER (IF YOU GO) — task force 141 x reader

06 — PULL A TRIGGER, CLIMB A MOUNTAIN

featuring. simon 'ghost' riley + johnny 'soap' mactavish + kyle 'gaz' garrick + john 'bravo six' price + (non-endgame phillip graves)

warnings. nsfw, fem!reader, fmmmm, enemies to lovers, slow burn, polyamory, ghostsoap, pricegaz, alerudy, heavy angst, requited unrequited love, graphic violence

series masterlist. read on ao3. read on wattpad. fanfic playlist.

<- previous part | next part ->

Graves watches you, a sleazy smirk on his face as he sits in the helicopter, blood dripping from his forehead and empty rifle in hand.

With a wink, he chimes in through your channel, “See you when you’re useful again, baby.”

Three hours earlier.

“Change.”

Looking up, you give the hulking man the most annoyed expression you can muster, cocking your hip and folding your arms over your chest. He, in response, only raises a brow and folds his own arms, a clear mocking of your own stance.

Everyone else is already in the other room, checking over weaponry and making plans. They’re loud enough to be heard here, jovial laughter and quickly-spoken Spanish filtering in. A song plays, too, a nice kind of melody that you find yourself enjoying.

“I usually need a shot or two first,” you snark, making no move to take the folded clothes from the balaclava-clad man. “You buying?”

As he shoves the uniform into your chest, you shoot Ghost a nasty glare.

“We have stuff we need to do without you,” he quips, pushing against your shoulder hard enough to have you taking a step back. “That uniform’s too recognisable.”

“What, the American flag’s too much for you?” You lean in once more, shoving your own hand against his chest. He doesn’t budge. “I deserve to be involved, when I’m giving you intel. This whole exclusion bullshit reminds me of kindergarten.”

“Then change, and stop acting like you belong in one,” Ghost snaps, and with one final look your way, storms out of the main room, slamming the wooden sliding doors shut behind him as he does.

You’re alone, now.

The room is vast, and at the small table still sits the laptop.

You’d… just. Done that. Threatened the very man who had taught you everything you know, the very man who had practically adopted you after your mother’s death. The very man of whom you’d just sentenced to death by your own hand. Your own lit match.

“Fuck,” you hiss, burying your face in your free hand.

This was the first time you’d had true solitude since. Well. It might’ve only been a day, but everything that’s happened has made it feel like years. Your throat itches from the knife wound, and you can feel your ribs’ bruising when you inhale.

“Fuck,” you curse once more, looking to the sliding doors.

After the call with Shepherd, the four men had been… well, they’d all had a very individualised response.

Soap had brought you in with an arm around your neck, ranting about how ‘badass’ you had been. Gaz had joined in, ruffling up your hair, placing a hand on your shoulder and asking if you were okay.

You’d said yes.

It had been a lie.

Ghost, without a word, had left to check over his magazines. Price had given you a firm nod and a pat on your back before, he too, left to the other room to sort things out.

“Lucky yer on our side, hen,” Soap had joked goodnaturedly. Gaz had rolled his eyes, saying, “You’re just happy your little Sweetheart can take you in a fight.”

Soap had immediately tackled him to the ground, and that was that.

Now, you stood, lone in the vast space of the room. It was still very early morning, the quiet sound of birds outside mixing with the rambunctiousness of the Los Vaqueros on the other side of the doors. Soft light filters in through the boarded up windows, casting over you in an odd haze.

Dropping the uniform onto the table, your brows furrow when you notice not only the 141’s standard uniform, but also a balaclava not unlike Ghost’s own.

The fabric is oddly soft as you run your hand over it, the paint cracking slightly against the nylon. Putting it aside for now, you then look over the uniform. A black long-sleeve compression shirt, baggy beige cargo pants. They’re definitely a bit too big for you, but admittedly, Ghost was right. It’d be too easy to spot you on the field if you were in Graves’ uniform.

Looking around the room, as if to cement the fact that you were alone, you quickly change, swapping out your bloody uniform for the new one.

It’s when you’re about to pull on the shirt that you look down, seeing the bruises lining your stomach. From the fight with Soap, or from one of your confrontations with the Shadows, you aren’t sure. Pressing softly against one, you can’t help a small grunt at the burst of pain.

You pull the compression shirt over your head, the fabric tight against your skin. How he’d had your size for the shirt and not the pants, you weren’t sure, but you weren’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth.

Pulling over the new vest, you transfer all of your old items into it, finding this design much nicer. Not as constricting against your breasts, designed more unisex than Graves’ had been.

Grabbing the balaclava, your feet carry you to the sliding doors, and you open them with little struggle.

You nearly stumble when you find all of the men within pulling on their own masks, stopping in your tracks at the sight. Ghost and Price’s backs are to you, and when you see Ghost pulling on one of the same masks, everything clicks.

He hadn’t wanted you to see his face – had used getting changed as a distraction.

And yet, here were the Los Vaqueros, some of which had never even spoken to Ghost, having the privilege. It shouldn’t make you angry, you shouldn’t care, but you can’t help the onslaught of rejection that floods your system.

When you step forward, into their line of sight, you straighten your spine and take out your gun from its holster, reloading it in precise movements, not looking down at it once. When the magazine clicks into place, you narrow your gaze on Ghost.

“Are we getting this done or having a fashion show?”

“That’s cold,” you murmur, eyes squeezed shut as war-torn fingers swipe grease paint around your eyes, careful in their placement. You sway when the vehicle drives over a pothole, but the fingers continue their ministrations without pause.

Price chuckles softly, wiping his thumb underneath your eye. “Used to do this for Ghost every other day,” he says under his breath, collecting more paint from the pot and continuing to spread it across the upper half of your face.

You’re in the back of a van with both Price and Gaz, Alejandro behind the wheel as you head back to his colonised base.

“You look like one of us now,” Gaz chimes, to your right. Watching you both carefully, his own paint already done, he leans back into his seat. “Uniform, mask… we’ve corrupted you, love.”

You roll your eyes beneath your eyelids. “Good luck with that.”

“Don’t test me,” he laughs, at the same time that Price pulls away once more, looking you over, before deciding that more paint will be needed.

“Feel like a kid at a fair,” you muse, earning a soft chuckle from Price. “Do I get glitter too?”

“Maybe if you’re a good girl,” Price jokes softly, and you let out a laugh of your own. Internally, you register your cheeks heating at the comment, a part of you yearning for such praise from the man. If it didn’t mess up your paint or cause the two to give you weird looks, you’d slap yourself.

“Can’t believe you’re Graves’ Colonel,” Gaz admonishes, and you barely restrain a huff of annoyance. He corrects himself. “Were. Man, he did not deserve you in his ranks. You probably would’ve done better as Commander than he ever could.”

You let your lips curve into a somewhat appreciative smile, eyes still shut as Price continues his studious work. “Believe it or not, we all loved him. Behind the scenes, he treated us pretty well. The guys, anyway.”

You can’t see it, but Gaz and Price share a knowing look, both of them raising their brows. Your eyes remain shut throughout their small, silent exchange.

“How so?” Price asks, gruff, and the tone encourages you to tell the truth.

“Well,” you swallow, unsure of how to approach the issue. You never have, never felt a reason to. “Just. Small things. Jokes, and stuff. I’m the only woman in the Company, actually–”

“What?” Gaz blurts out, not seeming able to stop himself. “You’re serious?”

You let out a somewhat self-deprecating chuckle. “...Yeah? That’s pretty normal in military jobs, y’know. Didn’t think it was that weird. At least I’m a Colonel.”

“You don’t think that’s… weird?” Price asks, and it’s only then that you realise he’s stopped painting your face. You blink open your eyes. “The only woman in his Company, and she’s his Colonel?”

Chewing on your inner cheek, you shake your head. “I was one of the very first to be hired by him. We… He was my partner. In nearly every sense of the word,” you admit, a small truth. “I mean. I don’t think that I loved him. Just. Never really had anyone else.”

“How old were you when you joined Shadow Co?” Gaz asks, slowly, carefully.

You mull it over, before supplying an easy answer. “Eighteen, or so. He was twenty-seven when he started, and –”

“That’s so fucked,” Gaz curses, burying his face in his hands. “Seriously. He’s a fucking asshole.”

You’re desperate for a change of topic, anything else but this. Not now, not when your wounds are too fresh, not when you’re about to come face to face with him again. With a deep breath, you divert the situation.

“Am I done?” You ask, looking to the window and trying to catch your reflection to no avail.

“...Yeah,” Price breathes, “You’re done.”

Easing back into your spot, you find your leg bouncing once more, the adrenaline of the upcoming mission keeping you antsy and energetic. You haven’t slept in over twenty-four hours, but you somehow find yourself more awake now than you had been hours ago.

Resting his hand on your knee, Gaz gives you a reassuring smile. “You ready?”

Letting out a low, unsure exhale, you find yourself nodding. “Yeah. I think so. I know what I’m going to say to him. I’m. He’ll come around.”

Gripping your mask in your hand, you move to pull it over your head, the fabric snugly fitting around your skin. It’s an odd sort of comfort, a way of protecting yourself from the emotional wreck that this mission will create. For the first time, you think that you can understand the attachment Ghost has to it.

“If we kill ‘im,” Price starts, but when you instantly flick your gaze to him, starts to backtrack, “If. If it comes down to it. You can’t hold it against us.”

You just check over your ammo, your cartridges, before simply replying.

“I’ll kill him myself.”

“We won’t make you do that,” Gaz says, adamant and firm as he leans in closer to you. “You don’t have to kill ‘im. I know most of us are wanting to do the honours, anyway.”

“I know Soap and Alejandro are just about begging to,” you acquiesce, but you find yourself focusing on the gun in your hands to reset your mindscape anyways. “But. It’s different. If he’s really done all of this… I want closure.”

“You’ll get your closure. Bloodshed or not,” Price pats your back, and you give him a small tilt of your lips, before realising that your mask covers the movement.

“You still good to split with Price and meet with the other team from the helo, hermana?” Alejandro calls from the front, turning slightly to look to you. You give him a thumbs up, and even with his mask on, you can tell he’s wearing a toothy smile.

“Your gun all good?” Gaz asks, jerking his head to the weapon. “Ammo in your pockets, cartridge full?”

Pulling your free hand into a gun gesture, you smile.

“Pew.”

It’s with the weight of the world on your shoulders that you watch Price’s helicopter get shot.

“We’re hit! We’re hit!” Price calls through your shared radio channel, his voice frantic enough to have you skidding to a stop. Distantly, you think you can hear Ghost say something, but it’s quickly shadowed by Price’s, “Going down. We’re going down!”

You’re about a hundred feet away from where Rodolfo and Soap stand, the two also seeming to pause behind a warehouse of some sort.

When you see Soap move to push Rodolfo up the wall, you run as fast as your legs will take you to their position, calling out to them, “I’m coming with!”

“Thought you weren’t making it, cariño!” Rodolfo calls out as you fall alongside them, your heartbeat raging in your ears.

“Can’t get rid of me that easy,” you jest, then pause when you see Ghost to your side. Jerking your head to the wall, you ask, “Need a personal invitation?”

“Price and the pilot need help. You three finish this,” he shakes his head, before turning and leaving for the crash site. Shrugging, you spin back to where Rodolfo’s extending his hand to help you up, which you accept, reaching the top of the wall and swinging your right thigh over it, straddling the brick.

Extending your arm down, you pull Rodolfo up, Soap taking his other hand in a firm grip. When Rodolfo swings around to sit between you both, he curses under his breath.

“Look!” Soap hisses, and when you do as he says, your own stomach falls down to the dirt floor beneath you.

“That’s not ours,” Rodolfo murmurs, and you can barely find your voice.

“A tank,” you say, mindlessly, watching on as a fucking tank pulls into the training area of the compound. “Graves… he has a fucking tank?”

Neither of the two respond, both instead jumping off of the wall, falling into a crouch as they land. They both extend hands to you, more of a supporting gesture than anything, but you don’t take them as you too land on the other side of the brick, entering the training area.

“Ye ready for this?” Soap asks the two of you, a hint of mania creeping onto his blood-flecked face.

“Hell yeah,” Rodolfo breathes, before looking to you with a friendly smile. Ruffling your hair, a familiar gesture, now, he squeezes the nape of your neck. “If you come out of this alive, hermana, we could use you in the Los Vaqueros.”

You bark a laugh, stunned, almost, before shaking your head. “You should talk to your boss about recruiting people, first.”

Rodolfo shrugs. “Ale likes to make me happy.”

“Interviews can happen later, aye?” Soap chuckles, and the three of you look to the tank once more. “Bigger fish to catch, and allat.”

You go to say something else, when –

“Didn’t realise you boys were into kidnapping women now. That’s a bit sketchy, ain’t it?”

Graves. He’s – he’s got a radio, he’s talking, he’s here, he’s. He’s fucking with you, trying to play mind games, trying to break you all over –

“Can’t wait to bake this bastard,” Soap grunts, and you find your footing once more. Sure, you were ready for battle, but your entire reason for being here was to talk to him. Get him to realise his mistakes, come forward, go back to the man you knew.

Rodolfo and Soap are running somewhere, doing their part, and you –

“Is what they said true?” It’s the most important question you have right now. The answer you yearn for.

A moment passes.

“Where did you go, gorgeous? When’d they get ya? Did they blackmail you in Las Almas?” He diverts, and you tighten your grip on your gun, swallowing your litany of curses.

“Answer my questions, Commander. Is. What they said. True.”

“It doesn’t matter, baby. Remember where your loyalties lie,” Graves takes on a sweeter tone, a more… condescending one, you think.

“Please,” you find yourself whispering, begging for him to just. Break this nightmare, rebel against it, be Phillip. “Please tell me this isn’t really you.”

“Oveja pequeña,” he coos, and you swear your spine erupts in hives, “I’m still your Phillip. You’re the one who’s changed – look at you, running off with the 141. I’m disappointed.”

You erupt, then, like a dormant volcano, finally gathering the final push to let lava reign free.

“I’m going to fucking kill you! You just killed fathers, tore apart families! I fucking hate you!” You yell into the radios, no tears falling, merely anger and vengeance clouding your vision.

“Don’t forget that you are under my orders. Whether you’re in my bed or not, you’re my Colonel,” he seethes back, and like a shot while you’re already down, you realise that this is a hopeless cause. You weren’t going to save Shepherd. You weren’t going to save Graves.

All you had left to save was yourself.

They’d lied to you, an indefinite amount of times, for how long, you weren’t sure. Your whole relationship – was that a lie, too? Was your entire life?

“I’m your second in command,” you finally admit out loud, hiding behind a crumbling wall as the tank shoots just a few feet away from you. “So when you get taken down, guess who comes out on top?”

“Listen to yourself!” He shouts, his voice cracking in his sudden anger, “Listen–”

“No, you listen!” You find yourself crying out, taking a few shots at the tank, allowing Soap and Rudy to do their part. “Listen to me, Phillip. You’re going to regret this – all of this. When were you going to tell me you were under Shepherd’s orders, huh? How long have you been fucking me over!”

“Whenever you first came around my cock is my guess, baby,” he responds, icy and cold.

His words only seem to further encourage you to breaking point, adding more and more fury to rush down your veins like its very own hit of morphine.

“Guess what, Commander?”

“Don’t bull–”

“That first time, and every time since?”

He doesn’t bother to interrupt you.

“I faked it.”

With that, you switch Channels to one shared with all of you.

You had heard everything you needed to, and along with it, realised something of vital importance. A small inconsistency that changed everything.

“Ghost team,” you say, neutral and unforgiving, “Graves isn’t in the tank.”

“What’re ye talking about?!” Soap calls through, exuding exhaustion, the sound of explosions crackling through behind his vocals. “He has to be–”

“He’s not,” you say, firm, absolute in your decision. “I don’t know where he is – but he’s not in there. Not his style, anyway – prefers to be in the spotlight.”

“What do we do then, hermana?” Rodolfo asks, sounds strained just as Soap had.

Your answer is easy. “You guys focus on the tank – I’m taking Graves down.”

With that, you run for the wall once more, and with nothing but your intuition, you know exactly where you’ll find your ex-Commander.

As per usual when it comes to your gut-feelings, you’re correct.

It’s within the hanger on the compound that you find him getting into a helicopter – a wound on his forehead and tactical glasses on. Somehow, he’s already found himself injured – a small, selfish part of you satisfied with that information.

“Commander!” You yell as you break through the small window of the hangar, using the butt of your gun to do it. It’s as the door to the heli shuts that he notices you – and you switch back on to his radio.

“This is your last chance,” he grits out, his voice thin and furious. “Before this becomes more than a… domestic fight.”

You wince as the blades start turning, taking shelter behind one of the cargo boxes, wary of any bullets being shot your way. “The only domestic thing about us was your inclination for treating me like your little wife.”

“Always did think you’d look pretty barefoot and pregnant,” he muses, and oh, have you never wanted to kill a man more in your life.

“Aww,” you mock, as the blades’ whirring gets louder and shots echo around you finally, “See, I think you’d look pretty bleeding out at my feet.”

“You did look rather good at mine,” he retorts, and your emotions get the better of you as you peek, shooting three Shadows behind the heli with easy headshots. You’re barely there for two seconds before a burning pain echoes through the side of your shoulder, and you duck down once more.

“Couldn’t even get off,” you pant, relentless to the very end even as your breaths turn into heavy falls of your shoulders, “Was like fucking a Ken doll.”

“You’ve always been a petty bitch,” he snaps, and you smirk.

“I am a bitch, you’re right. And you know what bitches do when someone taunts them? They bite.”

You raise your gun, and for a scary, short second, you realise that blood is flowing in a stream that’s causing the sleeve of your black shirt to grow sticky and damp. Now isn’t the time to care, however, as you take aim at one of the windows of the heli.

Pulling the trigger, the bullet bursts through the window, glass shattering and falling to the ground. It’s as soon as it does, however, that it takes flight, boosting in its acceleration immediately.

Fully peeking, this time, you watch as the helicopter quickly takes off, and even if you had the capacity to shoot at it, it wouldn’t hit the intended target, not with your trembling hands.

Graves watches you, a sleazy smirk on his face as he sits in the helicopter, blood dripping from his forehead and empty rifle in hand.

With a wink, he chimes in through your channel, “See you when you’re useful again, baby.”

You get one final sentence in, before the radio cuts off. Even though you can’t see him from this distance, you’re sure you’re making eye contact as you deal your final blow.

“My callsign isn’t baby. It’s Sweetheart.”

taglist. @lilpothoscuttings @jng-yuan @iruzias @insatiablekittie @1wh4re1nova @kaoyamamegami @supernaturalstilinski @inthemiddle0feverywhere @msecho19 @nogood-boyo @alfa-jor @lalashhyl @letmeapologise @honeybeeznutz @1mawh0re @oreo-cream @lalashhyl @someonepleasedateme @letmeapologise @uhhellnogetoffpleasenowty @inarabee

author's note. to everyone asking about the covid, its prettyyy bad haha. i can hardly leave my bed and need 3 blankets in the peak of summer!

at least that means i have downtime to write before my life gets VERY hectic. thank you all for your support again, the feedback and praise for the last chapter made me feel 10x better and i genuinely appreciate you all SO much. thank you thank you thank you!

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fieldofdaisiies · 6 months

Text

Power Over Me

ship: Nyx x Reader type: I don't know, a bit angsty, a bit fluffy word count: 2k words warnings: none request: Hiii i just finished reading ur Nyx fic on wattpad now I have an obsession with the young lordling. I was wondering if you can make an angsty fic of him and reader where they had a fight and she doesn't talk to him and makes him grovel??

He is a fool. A big, big fool. Nyx knows this. He knows this so well.

He sits on the railing of the balcony, wings spread wide behind his back as he balances, pondering over the biggest mistake he has ever made in his life — letting you go.

A cool breeze blows through his hair and he brings a hand up to brush back his silken strands, before grabbing a hair tie and fixating them at the nape of his neck. You look more and more like Cassian, he can hear his mother's voice and a low, cold chuckle slips through his lips.

Maybe he does, but Cassian wouldn't have messed up like this.

This stupid fight — it was so useless, over something so stupid. His thoughts were a little too loud, and he started to worry that you can't stand the pressure of dating the High Lord's heir. He was so caught up in his thoughts that he did not even listen to you, did not even give you a chance to explain to him that it doesn't matter to you. And then you laughed and chatted with his best friend, Ran, and jealousy flooded the young heir. He thought you would like Ran more and that you would be so much better off with him. Everything, every stupid thought filled his brain, and he saw red and simply ended things with you.

And well, now he has to pay the price.

After your fight, you told him you don't ever want to have anything to do with him. The hurt just ran so deep, your emotions got the best of you and made you say this.

You did not mean it, not really at least, but obviously Nyx now thinks he lost you forever.

A groan parts his lips when the young lordling throws his head back, his eyes squeezed shut.

"Let me guess, a girl is the reason behind your misery?"

Nyx whips his head to the side, eyes wide open.

He didn't hear his father enter, nor did he hear him approach. But suddenly Rhysand, High Lord of the Night Court, stands next to him, hands braced on the railing onto which Nyx sits.

Nyx closes his eyes and groans again. "So obvious?"

Rhysand chuckles lowly, then he clicks his tongue. "Very much, son." The High Lord turns his head, giving him son a sidelong glance. He just looks so much like Rhysand, the same eyes, the same colour of hair, the same stature, he only has Feyre's eyes, and her nose. And apparently he is trying to get the same hairstyle as his uncle. "This is about Y/N, I assume?" Rhysand asks when Nyx provides no further information.

"You know about us?"

For a moment Nyx worries his mental shields have been lowered too often and he has given everything he ever thought away. But his father's answer brings at least some comfort in this case.

"The amount of times she has been here, how you looked at her and the way you talked about definitely gave you away." Rhysand chuckles again and finally Nyx turns to him as well, sadness glistening in his eyes when he searches his father's gaze.

"She is amazing," Nyx mumbles.

"She is." The High Lord nods, sympathy passing over his face. "And now I wonder what happened."

"I am a fool and I messed up?"

Rhysand raises a questioning brow. "Enlighten me, son."

"I let her go?" Nyx says, his voice rising at the end, almost like he is posing a question.

Confusion passes over Rhysand's face and he watches his son closely. "Why?" he asks. "Did you do something to hurt her? Or did she do something to hurt you?"

"Yes." Nyx presses his lips in a thin line and lowers his chin to his chest, letting his head hang.

"Yes, what?"

Another groan leaves the lordling, and he once again throws his head back in a dramatic manner. "I fucked up."

"Wording," Rhysand reprimands and gives his head a little shake.

Nyx turns to him once again and rolls back his shoulder. "Sorry, father. I messed up. I broke up with her. I got jealous and I then I thought I was not good enough for her and I broke up with Y/N, not even listening to what she has to says and she…" His voice starts to quaver, but Nyx quickly bites down on the inside of his cheek — he won't cry now.

"She said she never wanted to see me again."

"And you just gave up?" Rhysand leans forward a little, holding his son' gaze. He can see the young boy behind his grown-up demeanour. Deep inside, Nyx is still so very young, his little boy, and he will forever stay that. Rhysand brings his arm up to clasp Nyx's shoulder. "Your mother called me terrible names back then, threw a shoe at me—" "Y/N tossed pillow at me," Nyx says with a cold chuckle. "And then told me to get lost, but not in the nice wording I just used." A sad smile appears on his lips, and Rhysand squeezes his shoulder again.

"You are going to fix this, Nyx. I know this. But you need to put some effort in it. Buy her something nice, show her that it was a mistake. Tell her—" "I tried!" Nyx blurts out and throws his hands up in despair. "I tried everything. I brought her flowers. I brought her chocolate. I knocked at her window at three in the morning. I told her she is amazing and I tried to make it up with her. But she does not even want to see me. She—" "Did you apologise?" Rhysand raises a brow. "Did you tell her that you are a massive fool for letting her go?"

Nyx doesn't answer, does not deny it either, which tells Rhys he hasn't. The young lordling only turns his head to side and stares straight forward at the Sidra river, his lips pressed in a thin line, eyes downcast, gaze empty.

The High Lord tilts his head in a reproachful manner, and gives his son's shoulder a gentle squeeze. "Well, I guess you now know what you have to do?"

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

And Nyx does know what he has to do. The moment the sun rises the next moment, he is one his feet, gathering the large bouquet of flowers his aunt Elain made for him, a box of little chocolate hearts in his other hand. He sets out, his wings carrying him over Velaris to the small house where you live with your family.

Today he won't give up. Today he will make up with you. He is Nyx Archeron, first born son of Rhysand and Feyre, High Lord and Lady of the Night Court, and he won't give up.

He will get you back and he will never let you go.

Determination is etched upon his features when he Nyx slowly descends. His grips the bouquet and the box of chocolates in his hands, his heart beating so rapidly he can feel it in his throat, hammering against his ribcage. But it won't make him give up.

This is a mission, a mission he will return from successful. With confident struts he nears your entrance door, shifts the bouquet and knocks.

And then he waits, feeling how his hands turns clammy, how his heart beats even faster, his breathing quickens until—

The door opens slowly, and your beautiful eyes are the first thing he sees.

"Y/N, I—" You slam the door in his face. Or rather you try to, but he is faster. He places his foot in the doorframe, stopping the door. "No, Y/N, you need to listen to me. You need to let me explain. Please, hear me out."

"Just like you listened to me?" With anger in your voice, you raise your brow at him, fingers curled around the door. "What do you want, Nyx? Ask me again if I am banging Ran behind your back? Tell me again that I am not good enough for the High Lord's son and should rather be with someone like Ran?"

"I never meant it like that. You are good enough for me. I am not good enough for you and I am huge fool."

You snort. "That is true. You are a big idiot." Slowly you grip on the door loosens, but you stand your ground, nothing kind or warm in your gaze. He hurt you and he should see what his words have done to you.

"I know this, I am the biggest idiot ever for letting you go. I love you and I am sorry - for what I said, for what I assumed, for how I behaved."

"And you think a simple sorry is enough?" You raise your brow, hoping your discussion at the door does not draw your family's attention to you. They are all still asleep and really don't want them to wake up because you are fighting with the High Lord's son at the entrance door. So, you decide to step outside, closing the door behind you.

A glimmer of relief passes over Nyx's face, over you at least wanting to talk to him, being ready to listen to him. It is what he should have done.

"No, I don't think so," he says, voice tinged with shame. He gives his head a little shake. "I know I have to fight hard to make it up to you, and I will fight hard for you. I am a born warrior and I won't give up like that."

"You are a born idiot, Nyx." You can't avoid the silly, little smile from appearing on your lips.

Nyx has to chuckle a little as well, stepping a little closer to you. "I brought you chocolate and flowers." He reaches his hands forward.

You don't accept immediately, you let him suffer for a second, and then hesitantly reach forward and take the things from his hands. Inhaling a deep breath, you lift your gaze to his. "It is a beginning and—Nyx, what are you doing?!"

The High Lord's son drops to his knees in front of you, staring up at you with a pout and pleading eyes. "I love you. I love you so much, and I am the biggest idiot Prythian has ever seen. Letting you go was the worst I could have ever done, and I hate myself every day for it."

"Nyx, Gods, get up please." You have to laugh a little as you try to urge him to get back up again.

"Not until you forgive me." He pouts even more, brows laying in furrows.

"Nyx," you say, shifting the bouquet, so you can reach a hand out and grab his arm.

But he shakes his head. "Nope. I am sorry. I never thought you would cheat on me, I just thought you being with me puts unnecessary burdens on you. Everyone in Velaris knows who I am, and they will be interested in you as well. People will question who you are, will want to know everything about you—"

"And I told you that I don't care. Or, I tried to tell you that I don't care." You now also take a step towards him. "I don't mind it. I wanted to be with you, and I don't care what other people think or want to know about me. I like you and I care about what you think, not random citizens from Velaris."

You tilt your head to the side and look at him for a long moment. "If you promise me to never question my love for you, my loyaltiy and that I would never betray you, I will forgive you."

"Sure?" Nyx raises a brow.

You nod and he finally gets back onto his feet, straightening up and rolling back his shoulders. "Also, to make it fully up to you, you are allowed to call me an idiot for the rest of our immortal life."

You grin, stepping into him so he can put his arms around you. "I would have done that anyway." You smile into his chest when a soft laugh leaves him and he embraces you tightly. "I love you so much and I missed you terribly."

#nyx x reader #nyx archeron #rhysand #acotar #acosf #nyx acotar

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gurugirl · 1 year

Text

Gurugirl's Wattpad & Tumblr Fic Recs

Anything you read in these masterlists won’t disappoint but I’ve picked my absolute favorites from each blog and listed below.

NOTE: I did my best to include all my faves here but I've probably forgotten a few. I intend to add to this list (may need to make a part 2 once I hit my mentions and link limits) because I'm always reading new fics so come back often!

Angst recs (all taken from list below but specific to the more angsty ones)

Daddy kink

Enemies to lovers

Summer vibes & party fics

Personal faves from my own writings

Other blogs I love

Tumblr

@1d1195

One Shot: Right Here: one bed, nightmares, enemies to lovers, hurt/comfort, childhood "friendship," coworker Harry, grumpy/sunshine (I'll let you guess who's who), etc. etc. etc.

@a-strange-familiar

Series: His Memories (3 parts): you and Harry broke up few months back but still love each other. And after all these months you see him again in a party. All memories you tried to push back in your head came back with a powerful speed.

@adorebeaa

One shot: Undo Me: YN reveals a kink in front of best friend!Harry, who is curious…

@awideworldoffanfics

Series: Milking the Grip (5 parts): Harry Styles is a single dad who golfs every Tuesday. Y/N is his babysitter who also happens to work at the golf course he goes to. They’ve never run into each other there. Until they do.

@be-with-me-so-happily

Series: My Way Back Home: YN is left to figure out what to do when the love of her life, Harry, does not remember loving her. (AU)

Series: Don't Worry Darling: Y/N has her first big break as an actress as she lands the leading role in 'Don't Worry Darling'. The only problem is that her co-star is Harry Styles, who she feels has a very big ego. Tensions rise the more they film. All kinds of tension...

One Shot: Friendly Favor: When YN's best friend Harry asks for a favor, she knows it'll be difficult, but she loves him too much to say no. However, it's a dumb plan, and those usually don't end how you think they will.

Series: Laceleaf: Gemma is definitely Cassidy James' favourite Styles family member, considering they are best friends and all. And especially considering that Harry Styles is Gemma's smug and self-centered younger brother. Her life isn't perfect, and neither is she, but she knows for a fact that anything involving Harry gets messy.

@bopbopstyles

Masterlist (anything you pick here will be a pleasure - seriously)

@fkinavocado

Series: Daddy Issues: in which you’ve got textbook daddy issues and when your tool of a younger brother brings a sweet doe eyed girlfriend home for Thanksgiving and you end up offering her a ride home, you meet just the man to fix them. (daddy!harry, dilf!harry)

Series: Hard Candy: in which Harry owns a candy store and he just loves giving good girls special treats… especially after closing time (candyman!Harry)

One Shots & Blurbs: Long Hair Harry One Shots & Blurbs

@freedomfireflies

Series: Playboy: Welcome to 1965, where the women are loose, and the morals are looser. Here you'll meet Michelle and Harry. You don't need to know too much about them. Just that they're both incredibly bold...and incredibly jealous. The summer of June 1965 was a rather wild one for the Playboy Bunnies but even more wild for our two dear friends. Stick around and I'm sure they'll be happy to tell you all about it. You just have to promise one little thing... Don't tell Hefner.

Series: Teach Me: 5 parts - Harry needs a little practice in the art of Eating Pussy, and who better to ask for help than his best friend?

Series: Mafia!harry: 2 parts so far - more to come - Your mafia boss boyfriend, Harry, has been a little neglectful of his most prized possession. But he's found the perfect way to make it right. Exhibition kink!!

@goldenbuckyyy

Series: Illicit Affairs: A series of events between your affair with Harry. (Cheating together)

@harryistheonlyoneforme

One Shot: Little Freak: pairing: dbf harry x reader (so hot - so many kinks all in one little shot - must read)

@harrywritingsbyme

Sneaking Around (a series of shorts): Best friends dad - FUCKING HOT

@helladirections

Series: Brother's Best Friend: Harry is YN’s brother’s best friend, and YN isn’t a little kid anymore. Ft. dom/sub, rough sex, and soft words.

One Shot: Under Summer Skies: Harry and YN are longtime best friends back for another summer as the Dream Team on staff. Featuring getting called out by 12 year olds, two dumb best friends who can’t see what’s right in front of them, and lots of stargazing.

One Shot: Moka Pot: Do you think you can maybe do y/n and Harry having a slow morning routine? Like drinking tea together, doing skin together, basically just doing everything together?

@itslottiehere

One Shot: I Don't Want to Hear About Him (angsty): bff!harry writes a song about bff!reader.. and her boyfriend.

@jawllines

Harry is Y/n's Criminology Instructor (2 parts)

Harry is a single dad and y/n is surprisingly good at babysitting (2 parts)

Harry & y/n are witches, they hate eachother, and something's coming (3 parts)

Y/n knows something she shouldn't and Harry does what on Fridays? (4 parts) - Boxer!harry

Harry is a grumpy mechanic and y/n just can't stop talking (4 parts)

@jarofstyles

King of the Jungle (multi part series): Y/N’s family works for a wildlife preservation society and Harry is king of the jungle or tarzan!harry

Lone Wolf (multi part series): Harry is a grumpy alpha who has given up on finding his mate or werewolf!harry

Beauty & the Beast (multi part series): Harry is a moody, withdrawn but successful creature who needs a companion who can tend to his… needs.

@lemoncrushh

Series: The Entertainer: Set in the 70s, Sky Jones meets Harry Styles, an up and coming musician and soon-to-be rockstar. The Entertainer Part II

One Shot: Dressing For Revenge: Still heartbroken from finding your ex cheating on you, you go to a nightclub with your friend Kelsie, where not only do you run into your ex, but also a handsome gentleman who’s willing to help you get over him. Part II

@lukesaprince

Series: Intruder: You were an outside hire for a promotion Harry wanted, and he despises you for it. The hatred is mutual since Harry is a bit of an asshole, until the day of an important presentation where the tension is finally dealt with - A very steamy enemies to lovers romance (domrry)

Series: The Roommate Series: After Y/N’s best friend and roommate Alex decides to move out, she’s desperate for someone to take her place. Alex seems to have found the solution in a British fresh-to-New-York musician who ticks all the boxes. He just happens to be insanely attractive and charismatic… what could go wrong? (friends to lovers)

Series: Fratboy!harry You Can Pretend All You Want: You hate fratboys and everything they stand for, so you decide to prove one wrong by sleeping with him… safe to say it backfires (fratboy!harry, enemies to lovers).

Series: Rich: Neighbour/Older!Harry. A Summer dogsitting job for Mr. Styles is a dream come true for any broke uni student. He's rich, gorgeous and finally fucks you after your weekly dinner together. A series that follows two neighbours who end up in a sexual relationship.

@moonchildstyles

Series: Aster: Harry is a tattoo artist and y/n just wants to know if he's like this all the time or if he just doesn't like her. tattoo artist!harry / lhh!harry

Series: Citrine: Harry's a witch and it's been along time since since he's been around anyone new, but there's no way he was getting y/n out of his head. witch!harry

Series: Chiaroscuro: y/n needed a job but this place is strange and the owner is even stranger. vampire!harry

Series: Prosecco: Harry is just on the edge of 30 and y/n is someone he's sure he shouldn't get involved with. until she seeks him out anyway, and he realizes no one has ever really shown her how she should be treated. older!harry

@0oolookitsme

One Shot: Dazzled: In which Harry has an uneasy feeling about Y/n’s new mission but the devil ignores his guts’ screams. But the vampire as well as his fiancé, Y/n, isn’t dumb and is quick to listen and take some weight off of his shoulders. They both soon find out, why, he was feeling uneasy.

One Shot: Anything For You... And I: SMUTTY!!!! Dwd!Harry x Dwd-Character!Y/n

@0nlythrowharrybeaux

Friends Share (2 parts):Harry & Y/N have been practically perfect roommates for several years but the appearance of a hot new neighbor creates an unexpected shift in their relationship.

Unavailable (2 parts): Y/N has a very specific preference for unavailable/inappropriate people and Harry is her therapist who is supposed to help her work through this.

@pleasingforharry

Moans & Elevator Music (2 parts): Y/N is in a rush for an interview at her new job, but her luck gives out when the elevators shut down due to a sudden power outage. At least she isn’t alone.

@purplekiwis

Breaking the Ice (2 parts): Hockey!Harry x Skater!Y/N It’s no secret that as a figure skater, you’re fed up with the local hockey team being treated like royalty… and your ex’s status as a player isn’t helping much either.

In the Witching Hours (will be 3 parts): Wizard!Harry x Witch!Y/N; Soulmates AU An emergency admission to the hospital gives rise to a series of strange events but luckily, there’s a cute, shy wizard around…

One shot: Tentmate: Friends With Benefits Y/N has always hated camping… until her and Harry got stuck together in the same tent. (This one is smutty AF)

@s-brant

Series: The Getaway Car: In a drug deal gone wrong, Y/N, daughter to a famous racecar driver, finds herself behind the wheel of a car with a gun to her head. A masked man named Harry demands she helps him evade the authorities, so she does the only thing she knows how to. She drives.

One Shot: Midas Touch: The night before they leave to spend Christmas with his family, a conversation with their friends makes Harry and Y/N confront the future of their marriage.

@stylesloveclub

Series: Pleasing: In which y/n is a broke waitress, and Harry is a Michelin star chef who thinks she’s cuter than a puppy.

@swiftmendeshoran

Series: Curvy Secret/No More Secrets Daddy: Dad's best friend (dbf!) Harry x plus size reader

@watchmegetobsessed

Series: The Sun Will Rise: You’re glad to be back at college and away from your family. Everything is back to its normal, but you have a little issue: you told your family you’d bring a date to your sister’s wedding, but you have no actual partner. An unexpected deal is made with the person you couldn’t even consider to be your friend: Harry can take the spare room in your apartment for the semester if he’ll be your date for the wedding. But can you actually live together with a guy who obviously dislikes you and you have no idea why? Can you fool your parents into thinking you’re dating Harry? And what will they think about him? Nothing is ever good enough to them, nothing that’s not as perfect as your sister, Alice.

Series: Wildest Fantasies: You’ve been struggling to finish your assignment for Professor Styles’ Creative Writing class. Inspiration is seem to be avoiding you, so to relieve some stress, you mess around with your roommates and write a rather dirty fiction of the hot professor everyone is into on campus. Due to a fatal mistake however, you end up uploading the wrong file as your attachment to your assignment and your wildest fantasies end up in the hands of the person they are about.

Good Girl (Part 2): sugardaddy!Harry / CEO!Harry x Reader

@writerpetals (writes optional male lead smut but you can easily imagine any male *coughharrycough* as the males are described as tall, well-built, with a nice head of hair - read anything this author writes - it's good, you will find almost any trope - ENJOY)

One Shot: Lakeside: werewolf!au, werewolf x reader

@zayndrivesmeinvain

Series (wip): The One That Got Away: In which Harry and Alena were college sweethearts, however, all of that has changed and the only thing keeping in contact is the fact that they have a child together. Is it possible for them to even get to a normal standing friendship or is that long gone? dadrry x oc | single dad!harry

i hit my link limits so was unable to insert link to part one of their series. check out their masterlist and you'll find it!

Wattpad

1-800-TITS = @1800titz (added May 21)

Series: The Devil is a Gentleman: "My name is Eros," the masked male cocks his head a smidge at her, and, if only slightly through the shadow casts between the parted zipper, Isla catches sight of a smile tugging at his lips on the latter fragment of his statement, "But you already know that. I'd hope, anyways. We've had a chat. Or two." His lips - his mouth. Isla ogles the latex through the peepholes of her own and wonders what shape the rest of his features take, what carves and forges his face, how his nose slopes, the assemblage of it all. "I think I recall, vaguely," she teases. "Mm. Vaguely. I'll take note of that. Well, although we are acquainted," Eros smooths his fingertips over the arm of the chair, a lavish facade of plastic masquerading. The latter fragment of his statement prompts the steady bump of her heart to spur behind her ribcage. "You will address me as Master." Isla swallows. Despite her prior train of thought looping so intently on the tracks to decipher what she believes he'd look like beneath his mask, it's entirely derailed by the serious note in his previously light cadence. She wonders how a mere introduction manages to send such a thrilling rush rolling down her spine. Eros leans forward, forearms braced to his splayed thighs, almost as if to bend to her level. "Or Sir. Master, Sir, it's all the same to me. Your preference." OR the one in which there's a sex club, Greek stage names, the exploration of boundaries, an open house, a pair of dress shoes, and two sides of the same coin.

_miiki

Series: Artwork & Aquarelle: "Sierra, you go with Harry Styles." I raised up my head at the words, giving my teacher an incredulous glance. "Do I really have to?" Was the only thing I managed to say. The teacher gave me an annoyed look. "Did you not understand? You go with Harry Styles." I turned my head to look at him. At the mention of his name he glanced up, and if his green eyes hadn't frozen me in place already, the unimpressed look he gave me would've done it right away.

Aggressivelyfriendly = @aggresivelyfriendly

Series: Who Names the Colors: In the last year, Joanne Smith Giles, has once again become Jo Smith. In another heartbreaking turn of events, she's also the single mother of an infant, again. She knows she can do this on her own, and better at 40 than 19, but it seems weird to be launching a son into manhood, a new career as an art professor, and changing nappies all in one day. She is so thankful when Ethan, her boy, comes home from Uni. Jo could use the help. His best friend, Harry, comes round too. And his launch into manhood may be another heartbreaking turn, for all of them

ErinAlterEgo = @yourwattpadmom

Series: Late night Talking: Alex is craving something at night, and it's not ice cream. Encouraged by her husband to explore a polyamory relationship to meet some of her more....eclectic tastes, she finds herself on a dating app for the first time in her life. She expected maybe some interesting experiences, possibly her first one-night stand ever. She didn't expect to meet a man who made her question everything about herself. Harry is on a new path in his life that is exciting and different than he ever could have imagined. He's looking for excitement, experiences, but definitely not love and attachment. When he meets Alex, he sees a whole new path that he's unsure he wants to go down, but finds it hard to resist.

Hitterj (love all of her stuff!)

Series: All This Time: The coming-of-age story of Harry and Riley who have known each other for years, but never actually knew each other. They've spent countless nights at the same parties, shared a few drinks and glances, they're even on track to graduate top of their class. What happens when out of nowhere they start to connect? Like an invisible string pulls them together, so they can experience life and love and heartbreak. Riley and Harry learn a lot about themselves, and ultimately have to choose what's best for their future no matter how difficult that can be. But does love find a way? After all this time?

Series: Kiwi: If you don't know about this one by now... go read it - super duper smutty and sweet and angsty

Series: Sweet Little Lies: All her life, Ivy Malone has known what her family was. She grew up in the deep, unforgiving world of the mob. Ivy hates her position in life, knowing that her life was never fully hers. Harry Styles was cold. He trusted almost no one, especially his family. He had learned quickly that everyone was waiting for him to fail... to fall. An empire built by his father from the blood and bones of those who stepped in his way was all he had, no matter how much he hated it. He had no choice but to carry on the legacy. And marrying Malone's daughter was the next step in fortifying their defense. With new rivals making a move for power and a mysterious figure haunting the crime families of Queenstown, Ivy and Harry have to learn to live together. A bad start leads them down a tumultuous, passionate, and downright dangerous path, but maybe they were exactly what the other needed to live the life they always craved.

MysteryMixtapes (Just go read all their stuff)

Series: Stall & Stall 2: Violence/gangs/dark

Series: Perspective: Have you ever met someone that made falling feel like flying?

Series: Unforgettable: "If it feels so right, how can it be wrong?"

Peanutboyfriend (read all of Birdie's stuff - you won't regret it)

Series: Aerial: In Malibu, California in 1965, a surfer and world-famous aerialist undergoes a chain of comedic and not-so-comedic mishaps that force him to re-evaluate who he is.

Petit_cerise

Series: Devil's Due & Devil's Desire: Harry Styles, the brooding and intolerable tattoo parlour owner, meets River, a stubborn and somewhat oblivious girl, who just doesn't understand the reasoning behind his nefarious ways but is determined to find out. River comes to realize that Harry's hiding something much deeper than expected... only once those secrets come to the surface, it's too late to turn back.

Sunflowersnstuff

Series: One Word & Wonderland: We're all mad here, it's Wonderland.

ThousandYearsOfHope

Series: Lonely Nights: Willow Mackey is a quiet girl, but she is fiercely loyal and will never lie to you. Harry Styles is her brother's best friend, and someone she'll always have a soft spot for. Grown up and no longer shielded by their ages, lines start to blur, and mistakes keep being made. For the first time in her life, Willow realises that sometimes, the truth is too painful to hear. But how could she ever say no to the one person that's always understood her better than she understands herself?

Series: Pretty Boy: One night of impulse shouldn't lead to much for Joni Lewis, but when she meets the alluring Harry Styles, an opportunity arises that she can't ignore. A Harry Styles short story inspired by Pretty Woman.

Writhali (I really like everything I've read by Thali)

Series: Ambit: Gangs/violence/action/SMUT - "Hell's boring, Birdie." He claims, that cold, dead stare back to his eyes. "And this, this is what I call a Monday night."

#gurugirl fic recs #harry styles #harry styles smut #harry x reader #harry styles fic #my faves

3K notes · View notes

g-xix · 8 months

Text

Pregnant | Harry Lewis

Hey girlies, here's a Harry oneshot for the W2S girls, requested by someone on Wattpad... Ik Whoetoshaw has alr done way longer + more in depth sort of oneshot for this so creds to her ofc. Here's a cute pic of Harry to prepare you tho:

Very fitting!!! Anyways: Content: Pregnancy scare, female hormones, 2k wordcout CW's: Pregnancy scares + mentions of abortion

---------------------------

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The two bright red lines glared up at me angrily.

I couldn't believe it.

Slapping a hand to my mouth, I felt as though the life around me were distorting, those bright two lines indicating the new life forming in my stomach.

"Y/n? You all alright in there?" Georgia's voice called from outside the bathroom. I felt my hands shaking, I couldn't comprehend it was really true. Tears began burning in the corners of my eyes, distorting the dizzying LED's around me. There was commotion around me- a door slammed open, a familiar face with a look of horror as they looked at me- lay across the bathroom floor- I couldn't tell you what happened in the space of ten minutes, but before I knew it I was sat opposite Georgia in the kitchen- steaming mug of tea in my hands.

She looked at me sombrely, a hot mug in her hands as well.

"So, when are you gonna tell him?" She questioned, raising her mug for a sip.

"Who?"

"Harry."

Oh God. I had to tell Harry. Boyfriend of five years, best friend, considerable soulmate.

And somehow the thought of telling him still made me pale inside.

We'd never talked about babies before... Pregnancy or even babysat for a friend! And having a baby meant a lot of responsibility we hadn't considered. We both had far too much on our plates. I had a nine-to-five, he had all of his YouTube biz, and we barely even had time or thought for holidays together, anymore.

"Soon." I gulped, palely.

...

"We're going out for drinks tonight- Mia and Faith coming along as well, you wanna come?" Harry mentioned casually,

"Oh, yeah sure I-" I choked on my breath as I remembered, coughing and burning my lungs as I hacked up a bit of inhaled saliva. Harry's hand found my back, slapping it as though he were trying to hit the cough out of me. "O-on other notes, I think I'll pass."

"You're not one to pass on meeting up with the girls, you got a bit extra work?" Harry questioned, face showing concern as he tried to read my expression.

I turned my back to him, facing the fridge to avoid eye contact as I responded dejectly.

"Yeah." I spoke shortly. I could feel the burning in my lungs slowly sinking in my stomach and sitting like a volcano getting ready to erupt. Every morning, throwing up had been getting worse and worse. It felt as though no matter what I ate (or didn't eat) for dinner, every morning the sickness hit with the same knee-weakening magnitude. I was sure Harry was asleep most mornings when I threw my body over the toilet bowl, given I woke at 3am with the sickening urges.

And I didn't want him to see me throw up all over the kitchen after missing out on an opportunity to see Faith and Mia again.

"You want me to stay? I don't mind staying in tonight if you wanna spend some time-"

"God's sake, shut up Harry." I snapped "Just go without me- I've never stopped you before, have I."

An uncomfortable silence settled between us, tension in the room thick enough to cut with a knife.

I didn't mean to shout at him- I don't know why I snapped.

"S-sorry." He softly spoke, voice filled with downcasted sadness. His voice only made my heart ache more, and I turned to try and meet his eyes- babble an apology- but as I turned to try and meet his soothing blue eyes, I was instead met with the door closing behind me.

The pull on my heartstrings making the tears well in my eyes was clearly too close to the stomach- as I felt my inside swirling, bile building in my oesophagus.

Before I knew it I was back at the toilet bowl, hands clasped around the lid with my knuckles going white as I had whole body shakes. My eyes squeezed shut, throat burning as I coughed up residual acid that lingered in my throat, spitting out all that amalgamated, nauseating fluid in my mouth.

And then after the coughs, it all began dawning on me again.

No more going out for drinks.

No more spontaneous planning.

No more irresponsibility.

Those coughs began developing into dry heaves, tears trickling down my cheeks as my breathing became erratic, broken cries and raw sounds coming from a throat I couldn't even believe was my own.

My body shook with each cry- weak and unstable- and only trembling more as I realised I wasn't just shaking myself. That tiny life form- a consequence of my carelessness- shook with me with each choked sob.

A vibration from my pocket was pulled out with quivering fingers, spotting Georgia's name.

I swiped on on the accept button, lips sealing together as I tried to zone into Georgia's voice.

"Hey girl, you doing alright?"

"M-maybe... Why, has s-something happened?"

"Not really, just wanted to know- have you told Harry yet or are you still-"

I felt that anger building inside me again. It wasn't her fucking problem- easy for her to pressure me- try and advise me and tell me I ought to tell him despite having zero fucking knowledge on what it feels like-

"GEORGIA, FUCK OFF I DON'T NEED THIS SHIT-" I threw the phone out of the bathroom door, hearing it hit one of the bedroom walls. "FUCK. OfF..."

My voice breaking was the last straw before I began losing it hysterically once more. My throat burnt as more acid crept up my oesophagus and found its way into the toilet, tears streaming down my face like a river now- chest rapidly rising and falling as I clutched at my head- everything making me light hearted.

The lights went off after that.

Pulling the pulley down, the lights went off. I didn't want to be seen. I want to see the reflection of a broken woman who I knew was myself. I cried in the dark instead of facing myself and what had happened.

Until I lay back flat against the cool tiles. I had gone through the motions. Dramatic sobs until there was no more liquid and I could only dry heave- to now- simply staring up at the ceiling, eyes tired and breathing steady with the exception of an occasional erratic choke.

It could have been just a few minutes, or a few hours that I just lay there.

Head empty, stomach empty, body feeling completely light. As though I weren't even alive.

I felt like shit.

I shouldn't have snapped at Harry.

I shouldn't have shouted at Georgia.

I shouldn't have thrown my phone.

I'll tell him when he comes back, Georgia, I spoke internally. Promise. For you.

My mind flicked through the variety of ways he could respond to hearing it. Eventually I filtered it down to a few.

Best case scenario: He's too drunk to understand it and just falls asleep, unable to comprehend what I'd said.

Worst case scenario: He completely sobers up and tells me to leave. Get out, blocks me on everything, does everything in his power to never see me again.

Of course, there were also a few alternatives:

Maybe he would start packing and get ready to spend the night at a friend's to sober up- not believing what he'd heard.

It was a possibility he might pass out from the news.

Or he could agree to support me, but only if I agree to abort it- him- her- whatever it was.

That final thought was sickening. I couldn't abort it. Of course - I physically could have it aborted... But I couldn't do that to something living. A part of me. I didn't like the thought of something growing inside of me- but that didn't mean I was going to be cruel enough to kill it. No matter how poorly Harry reacted.

A jangle of keys outside the door was enough to get me onto my feet- rushing back into the bedroom as I heard the front door opening.

"Y/n?" His voice called from the front room.

I jumped onto the bed, finding my phone and running my finger over the dent it had left in the wall. That would need fixing as well.

"Y/n? You around?" Harry's voice peeked around the door, finding me sat on the bed. Hands held in lap, phone clasped between shaking fingers. I looked at Harry's head, hair scruffy, and the smile on his face sincere. And the lack of redness in his eyes and cheeks gave me the impression he hadn't drank - or at least he hadn't drank much.

"You don't look like you've gone out." I commented on Harry's appearance. He smiled as he entered the bedroom, shutting his door behind him.

"Decided to skip." He responded, leaning his back against the door, holding a plastic baggie in his hands.

You should tell him. The voice spoke in my head. I knew I should. And there was not better time than now to tell him.

"I have something to tell you." "I have something to tell you."

I lowered my head and chucked slightly as the two of us let out laughs, our synchronisation amusing despite the fact it felt as though my heart were going to explode in my chest.

"I'll go first," Harry offered, though I shook my head.

"No, I want to-"

"I can- I don't mind, I mean-"

"No, seriously, Harry. I've got something more... uhm, important."

I could feel tears welling in my eyes as I went. The dip in the bed and the heavy arm that made its way around my shoulder indicated Harry at my side. I couldn't hold it in as again, I felt a choked sob make its way from my lips.

"I'm pregnant, Harry-"

I cut myself off with another pathetic sob, my head burying into Harry's shoulder as he wrapped his other arm around me, cradling and rocking us back and forth. My head ached as I let myself cry onto his hoodie shoulder, my hands weakly grasping onto the soft material as the second batch of tears for the day slipped down my cheeks.

I wiped my nose, pulling away to look at my boyfriend after the worst of the sobbing was over, my tired red eyes meeting his own pacifying blue ones.

"I know." He softly spoke, his lips curling up slightly with a small smile as he watched my expression drop to blank slate instantly.

"W-what?" I stuttered, the words not resonating as I suddenly felt so light it were as though I weren't even there. His eyes curved into little crescents as he giggled.

"I know, Y/n, I know, I know, I know." I closed my eyes, breathing in and out deeply, wanting to pinch my arm. Was I even awake?

"Please explain what the hell is happening," I asked with a short laugh, still not really processing what was happening.

"I figured, Y/n. After all the morning sickness-"

"I thought you were asleep during that?"

"I heard the end of your throwing up and toilet flush in the morning... I feel worse I always woke up too late to help you through it. But I noticed your morning sickness, not coming out to drink, the unusual mood changes..."

"Yeah, sorry for snapping at you." I chuckled, and he just rubbed my back. "So... what now?"

"Well, I went out and I got some things for us- sorry, for you." He pulled the plastic Tesco's bag from the side of the bed, digging through it. "I got you some Häagen-Dazs- the praline flavour because I know it's your favourite- and these flowers because Faith advised to get those on the phone- oh, and also-"

He pulled a fluffy piece of clothing and gestured for me to take it. I couldn't tell what exactly the item was, but as I pulled it apart, I realised it was a tiny little baby one-piece, so small it was barely the side of my head.

It was perfect. He was perfect. My boyfriend, my baby daddy, My Harold. I felt as though I could cry again, but refrained as I turned to face Harry.

"So you're... okay with having a baby?"

"...Yeah." He began nodding his head in self-support. "We can do this."

"You aren't mad or anything?"

"Mad?" He looked aghast at the thought. "Bloody hell, no! I'm actually kind of... excited."

I couldn't believe it. A laugh fell from my lips, realising there wasn't any problems. That Harry was fine with all of it. And he supported it. Me. We were going to be fine.

"Fuck, I love you Harry."

He connected his lips with mine and I couldn't have felt happier as the fireworks in my stomach exploded, lips curling into a smile as I realised:

Maybe it was all gonna be okay.

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Hope you enjoyed reading!! Feel free to interact- whether that be a comment, vote or follow! Requests open, feel free to submit what u wanna see... Much love!!

To see more, here's my MASTERLIST

And here's my WATTPAD, with 50+ more oneshots to read

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mxqdii · 8 months

Note

hey! i love love your work, and i was wondering if i could request a chris sturniolo x fem!reader?

maybe reader is also a well known influencer, or an actress or something of the sort, and there’s rumours about her and chris being together that they haven’t really confirmed?

but they are dating and she’s on live one day and he calls her like an intimate pet name, or just overall says something that shows they are in fact together and like the comments on the live just go crazy and stuff and shes like telling chris she’s on live or whatver

im so sorry if this doesnt make sense 🙏🙏

stop bc i requested pretty much this same thing to another author (on wattpad) a few months back, so when i read this request it was such an "i made it" moment (i love u sm, you're just like me fr fr)

baby - c.s

pairings: chris sturniolo x reader

summary: chris accidentally calls reader 'baby' while she's on live, revealing to the whole world that they're dating/

warning(s): fluff, reader calling chris bro 😔

not proofread

i'm sitting on the couch, watching tv, bored out of my mind.

then an idea hits me, i could go on live!

i used to go live a lot with the triplets, but only on their account, so it would be fun to go live on mine.

i open instagram and click the live button, watching the stream fill with thousands of people

"holy shit that's a lot of people" i say with a nervous laugh

"uhh i guess i'll answer any questions anyone has! so feel free to ask anything!" i add, smiling

i read through the comments, lots of them asking where the triplets are

i can't help but notice seeing a few asking if me and chris are dating.

fortunately, those allegations are true! but we've decided to keep it quiet for, just for now.

still, there’s only so much one can hide from the public

and although me and chris haven't said anything, i think everybody knows anyway.

people can see our glances, our gestures, how close we are, it's all pretty obvious.

i answer a few questions like my favorite singer, when my next video is coming out, podcast stuff with the triplets, and just some other various topics.

suddenly i hear the door unlock, looking over at it, but not really caring.

maybe i can get whichever triplet that is to join my live.

chris walks in and i smile in his direction

"hey baby" he says and my expression immediately drops.

i look at him, PALE.

(absolutely terrified to look back at the screen)

"what?" he says, walking closer, i turn my head to the screen, anticipating my death.

i let out a sigh of relief seeing the comments

@ssturniolo BABY???

@strniolo AWWWWWWWW

@lvrsparadise GOODBYE I LOVE THEM.

@ellieswifie this is such a chris and y/n mistake 😭

@lavieenvalentina i'm so happy for them i'll cry

(shoutout to everyone tagged ILY<;3)

as i'm reading the comments, i smile, chris hovering over me reading them too

suddenly he hugs me from behind, squeezing me tight

"chris!" i say laughing

"let me go bro" i whine

"you did not just call me bro" he says, immediately stopping

his death glare makes me laugh

"consider it payback for you calling me baby on live" i say laughing

(him clearly not amused)

"okay fine fine im sorry, guys it's all okay he's not my bro please let me redeem myself" i say joking on the last part

me and chris stay on live for another 30 minutes, answering questions about how we got together and just stuff about our relationship.

"bye guys we love you!!" i say, ending the live

i close out of insta, putting my phone down with an exhausted sigh

"so?" i mumble, anticipating chris's response

"so? so nothing" he say's with a smile and i face palm

"chris! we just told like, the world that we're dating" i laugh

"yeah, and i'm happy about it, like honestly i can't think of a better way it could've happened" he says

we both look at eachother and burst out laughing

"we're a little interesting thats for sure" i say

"i can't believe we tell the world we're dating ON ACCIDENT and then you start calling me bro" chris says, making me laugh harder

"i was nervous! im sorry!" i yell with my hands up in defense

"yeah yeah, it's fine" he says, wrapping his arms around me

"bro" he adds on

"chris i swear to god-"

TAGLIST:

@strniolo @stargirlv0id @annaisabookworm

#chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo fluff #chris sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo imagine #chris sturniolo x reader #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo #matt sturniolo #fluff #matt sturniolo headcannons #nick sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #nicolas sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #the sturniolo triplets #madispeaks!

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margotw10bis · 5 months

Text

Blank Pages. JJK [m]

bestfriend!jungkook x reader

Genre: one-shot; smut; romance; non-idol!jk; f2l

Words: 8k

Synopsis: You have a secret: you're a popular writer on Wattpad. The worst thing that could happen is your best friend Jungkook to discover that your erotic novels are about him...

Warning: protected sex; oral sex (f. receiving); writing of sex scenes

JK was pounding into me at an animalistic pace. I couldn't help screaming his name due to the overstimulation of the three precedent orgasms. His grip around my hips tightened as he was reaching his high. A few more dick strokes were provided before I could feel his hot shots of cum inside my pussy.

It didn't take long for the both of us to fall asleep, exhausted by the intense sex ride.

Your cheeks are red when you finish posting the new chapter of your story on your Wattpad account. Vivid images of the imaginary roll in the hay fill your brain — and your panties with wetness. You always feel the same after writing a sex scene starring your best friend: horny and guilty. You can't imagine how Jungkook would react if he knew he was the main character of a popular erotic online novel... You would die of embarrassment, knowing your best friend, whom you are madly in love with, had discovered your deepest sexual fantasies — featuring him. On the other hand, writing those filthy stories is your way to control both your feelings and your desires. Jungkook is your best friend, you can't risk your friendship.

You didn't have any thoughts other than trying to contain your sexual attraction for him when you created your Wattpad account. You had never thought that so many people would read your stories. You can't deny that you feel kind of proud that people love your writings but you also feel horrified that so many strangers are fantasying — and obviously masturbating — on your best friend. You are so glad that you kind of anonymized him by using his nickname JK. You mean, people could think it stands for Jin-Keon, right?

Just as if you needed some reminder that your writing is nothing but fiction, your phone screen brights up to notify a new message from the very same Jungkook.

'Hi, buddy! We're going to the club with the guys, wanna join?'

You hate so much when Jungkook calls you 'buddy'. It's so far away from the nicknames you wish he'd give you. In your stories, JK always uses 'baby', 'babe', sweetheart' and this is what you want... Not a stupid 'buddy' like you were his classmate in sixth grade!

You growl in frustration and answer that you're too tired and you're just going to bed. Your best friend replies that he is disappointed not to see you tonight and you hate how your weak stupid heart melts at that. You are also disappointed not to see him tonight or every single day of your life. You wish you could go home after work and know that Jungkook is waiting for you before heading to bed, together. You know damn well those are silly thoughts and maybe that's why they hurt so much. They are too far away from reality.

As you think.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

You hum, half-asleep as you feel something moving against you. You tighten your arms around the thing next to you to keep it still. However, it moves again to softly caress your hair.

"Y/N, let's go to bed" A whispered voice says

You lowly growl and bury your face deeper into the thing you're hugging. If you weren't in this sleepy state, you could notice that what you have in your arms is actually Jungkook. He doesn't really mind and it's not the first time your movie night ends up with you falling asleep. He'd just let you gradually collapse on him because he knows you always feel cold when you are sleeping. So he is happy to provide some warmth while you're visiting Morpheus' world. He even rested his arm around your shoulders to be a little more comfortable to watch the end of the movie — and enjoying this excuse to hug you.

But now, the film has ended and the couch is not the best place for a full night of slumber. Jungkook sighs when he accepts the fact that you just won't wake up. He tries, as gently as he can, to stand up and lifts you up in his arms. He pushes his bedroom door open with his foot, which causes him to almost loose balance. Finally, his mission is a success when he lands you on his bed without waking you. He smiles softly as he looks at you. He wonders what you are dreaming about right now. Are you having nightmares because of the horror movie? Or are you in a happy place full of your loved ones? He hopes for the latest.

He heads to the bathroom, brushes his teeth and joins you in bed. He knows you don't bother sleeping with him — it's not the first time either. And honestly, if he knew your feelings for him, he could be even more aware of how poorly you care. He makes sure the covers are tightly wrapped around you and scoots closer to hug you. He likes how your smaller body fits in his embrace — it's way better than his usual pillow. He gives you a small peck on the top of your hair and follows you in dreamland.

The sunlight coming through the unwell closed curtains wakes you up. You're surprised not to feel cold as usual in the morning. You want to lift your hand to rub your swollen eyes but you can't: something, or more like someone is completely wrapped around you. Your eyes snap open when you realize it's Jungkook. You turn your head and your heart melts at the sight: his sleepy face is so cute, especially with his pouty lips. You're close enough to clearly see his scar on the cheek as well as the little molds on his nose and under his lower lip. You wish you could taste its softness. You move carefully to free one arm and you caress your best friend's hair as softly as you can to not wake him up. You almost moan when you feel how silky it is underneath your fingertips. God, Jungkook is so perfect that it hurts to look at him.

Your heart beats fast in your chest due to the proximity but it suddenly stops when Jungkook, in his sleepless, presses you closer against his body. And then, you feel it. As clear as day. His morning wood. It stands hard against your lower belly and you gulp. Does your saliva drive straight to your pussy? Because your panties are now soaked. Oh god, Jungkook's cock is pressed against you and you love it. All kind of sinful scenarios take control of your brain and you wish your best friend was a sleepwalker but more like a sleepfucker. Okay, you are clearly deranged...

A normal person would try to bring some space between your two bodies but you do the opposite: you scoot closer, almost grinding on his boner.

Small sleepy growls from Jungkook make you stop moving as you really don't want your best friend to know how much of a sexual freak he is turning you into.

"Good morning, goober" Jungkook says with his sexy raspy voice before kissing your forehead

"Hi" You reply with cheeks as red as a tomato

Fuck, you still feel his dick but Jungkook doesn't seem in a rush of stepping away. Does he not feel it? Or maybe he does and he needs some friction because he fucking holds you tighter. You wish you could feel embarrassed but it's not the main emotion you experience: your horniness takes the most of you. If Jungkook doesn't release you soon, you could jump on him to ride him. Perhaps all the hot sex scenes you have written are messing up with your brain and you can't distance fantasy from reality.

(Un)fortunately, your best friend frees you to stretch. You try your best not to peak at the tent of the sheets caused by his hard-on. Jungkook leaves the bed and stands up in front of you, asking about breakfast with a very distant — according to you — voice. However, you can't focus on any words he is saying because the only thing that gets your attention is his — huge — bulge in his boxing shorts. He clearly doesn't wear any briefs and your mouth waters at the fact there is just one layer of fabric separating you from his cock — and also a whole moral code but you can't care about it right now. On the hand, it's not like Jungkook would stop you but you don't have any idea of it. A sparkle of playfulness brightens his doe eyes as he notices how you are gazing at his dick.

"Are you even listening to me?" Jungkook asks while snapping his fingers right in front of your face

"I-Jungkook, you..." You start but struggle to find the words that won't make you look like a sexual freak

"What?"

"You, uhm, seem to be awaken" You eventually decide to say

Jungkook looks at you with a faked questioning face and you point at this crotch. Rather than to be embarrassed, your best friend smirks proudly.

"Impressed, right?" He teases you and your cheeks take a new brighter tint of red

"Jungkook!" You scold him but you secretly are impressed by his obvious blessed area — way bigger than you have wrote

Your best friend just laughs with his childlike cheerful chuckle and announces that he'll cook some rice with sausages. You fall back on the bed, sighing in frustration. Jungkook is driving you crazy and you wish you could take off his wry smile by sitting on his pretty face. However, you decide it would be wiser to just sit on a chair and have breakfast with him.

"I could like to go to Songdo Beach today and go on a ride of the Busan AirCruise" You say at one point, your mouth full of food which makes barely impossible for Jungkook to understand you

"Why? You already did it a hundred of times"

"But it's raining today!" You pout "You know I love the atmosphere the rain gives to the skyline"

Your best friend does know it. You have told him countless of times how relaxing you find the sound of the rain on the glass cable car and the pale blue, almost lavender color, the Busan sky gets tinted on rainy days. Jungkook sighs to pretend it's a burden to go with you but you both know he likes it too.

As usual, the queue is not that long. Busan people tend to stay home or to take shelter in the numerous trendy coffees. What a shame people don't appreciate how nice it is to fly upon the near ocean while raindrops surround you. As usual, Jungkook buys the tickets for the two of you. You don't quite understand why he insists every time to pay but you can't deny it is heart-warming. Your best friend knows it's one of the things you love the most in life so he just wants you to enjoy it entirely.

A soft smile paints your lips as you step in the cable car. Slowly elevating you in the sky, you watch the nearby buildings growing away between the big and round drops of water. The sight is blurred yet so poetic. The glass floor allows you to take a peak at the waves and if you look at the ocean side, you can see some huge cargo boats, waiting in Busan bay to deliver their merchandise.

The calm atmosphere, enhanced by the melody of the rain on the glass, soothes you. However, Jungkook couldn't just let you be and he suddenly moves to make the cable car swing. You scream and scold him which only makes him laugh. As usual.

"Let's take a picture" Jungkook says while pulling off his phone from his oversized bomber jacket pocket

Then, he sits next to you and frames to crystalize both your two faces and the skyline in the background on the photo. You and your best friend smile brightly. If someone asks Jungkook right now, he could say that it's one of sunniest days ever because of how radiant you are.

"A last one" Jungkook announces

He clicks on the button to snap the picture at the exact moment he pecks your cheek. The photo clearly notifies how surprised you were, your eyes growing wider and your mouth slightly opened. However, your shy face mixed with your blushed cheeks make you really, really cute in Jungkook's opinion. He can only chuckle as he gazes at the picture with affection eyes. He will definitely make it his new wallpaper.

However, the small peck you have received from your best friend moves you more than it should. Your heart beats so loud in your chest that it seems to echoes down to your toes. You try to calm down and you resonate: it doesn't mean anything for your best friend. It's just a small friendly peck. Fuck, you write some erotic stories in which the characters fuck like beasts, you can't be all shaken up by a stupid kiss on the cheek!

You soothe your crazy heart by focusing on the view of the grey tinted skyline and on the few people defying the rain with their umbrellas. Deep down, you know it's the best memory you will have on the Busan cable car despite the numerous times you went on.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

"What do you think about this one?" Jungkook asks you a few days later while presenting another shirt in a dark blue color

You try hard to put a smile on your face to hide your painful chest. Does your best friend have any idea that helping him choosing an outfit for his date is torture for you? You could wince at the pain if you didn't have to act like normal.

"I think the white one is better" You answer nonetheless "You can't go wrong with it"

Jungkook nods and then finishes you completely: he casually takes off his t-shirt, flashing you with his so perfect buff chest. If it's true that you sometimes gripe when your best friend spends two hours at the gym, you are so thankful of it now. You practically drool when your eyes run through his flexing biceps — the right one delicately wrapped with ink —, his well-defined pecs and his fucking hot abs. You almost faint when your glance ends up its route on his very low pants, making his V-line and the hem of his black underwear visible. His skin seems so soft, your fingertips tickle at the thought of touching it. Fuck, this is better than anything you have ever written. You gulp when you think about all the nasty things you could like to do with Jungkook's torso.

"So, what do you think?"

Jungkook's question snaps you out of your fantasies but you have absolutely no idea of what he is talking about. Suddenly, the thread escaping from your jeans is very much interesting and you just pray that Jungkook hasn't noticed how you were eying him.

"About what?" You timidly ask

"Gogi Yummy, the restaurant I'm taking her to. Do you think it's a good idea?"

Your heart squeezes painfully when you think about Jungkook having a perfect date, doing everything you could like him to do, with someone else. You wish you could be a good best friend and be happy for him but the truth is that you love him too much not to feel hurt when he is going on a date.

"I think it's great" You reply as cheerful as you can be but still not looking to him in an attempt to hide the hurt in your eyes

"What about you?" Your best friend suddenly asks

"What about me?" You repeat his words with confusion, brows furrowed

"When are you going on a date?" He clarifies

You sigh while notifying him that you don't have time to look for a date. The real reason is obviously your feelings for Jungkook, you don't want anyone else but him.

"You know Jimin, right? The last time I saw him, he told me you were cute. Maybe you should give him a chance" Jungkook tells you with an encouraging tone but you only wince, which makes him sigh "Look, if my date goes well, we'll do something together, the four of us. This way, you won't feel pressured. How does it sound?"

Awful. But there is no way you'd confess that, especially when Jungkook is looking at you with his sparkling doe eyes and his so cute bunny smile. So you tell him that it's a great idea and you hope, even more than before, that his date is a disaster so you don't have to go on a double-date during which you won't be the partner of the person you love.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

JK was drawing delicious patterns on my clit with his tongue. I couldn't help tugging on his raven hair, not really knowing if it was to stop him or to urge him to do it harder. My breathe was cut when I felt a long and thick finger sliding into me, automatically making my walls clench around it.

"I'm close"I told JK, which provoked a proud smirk on his face

His only mission on Earth seemed to be providing me great orgasms — and he'd never failed.

"Come on, baby. Make me taste your yummy juices" He teased me, sending me on the edge

He stood up and took off this t-shirt so I could admire his delicate yet strong torso, the definition of perfection. His muscles were making me feel all kinds of butterflies in my stomach — or was it the remains of the orgasm? — and JK knew it well. He knew he was teasing me, and the way he was flexing his muscles proved me right. My mouth watered and my hand caressed the bulge of his six-pack. His tattoos always had an effect on me, making him as intriguing as sexy. A sin I wouldn't care to go to Hell for.

I wished I had time to enjoy it more but I had to go to work — JK's cunnilingus made me late as it made me come.

You save the last chapter and publish it on Wattpad. You stroll through the comments and smile when you read some very supportive ones. Almost every readers are in love with JK — only of they knew that real life Jungkook is one hundred times better. You sigh in content and close your laptop, ready to head to bed but your phone rings, stopping your plans of having a good and relaxing sleep.

'My date went great. Save your Friday night buddy cause we have a date ;)'

Why does your best friend have absolutely no clue of the draggers he is stabbing into your heart? To be fair, he went on this date because he thinks he doesn't stand a chance with you but you obviously don't know that. You growl and turn in your bed, tugging your sheets around you like if you were a burrito. Yes, going on a date with Jungkook is one of your dreams but going on a double-date with Jungkook having another date than you is a nightmare. You spend the night ramming through all the possible ways the date can go, which leads you to cry when scenarios of your best friend kissing a girl in front of you play in your mind.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

You growl while taking your clothes out of the washing machine. You don't what went wrong but it seems like every single pieces of clothing has sized down. Well, you could guess what went wrong: you were deep in thought and clicked on the wrong washing program. You sigh when you see your favorite dress... A slight and ridiculous hope that maybe it's not too bad makes you try it on, which takes you way more efforts than usual. But it only confirms what you thought: the red dress is now so tight that it looks like a second skin. The bottom hem barely covers your underwear and shows some of your ass in the back. And let's not talk about the neckline because it's worse: half of your bra is on display.

Of course, fate is never on your side — because it has been such a nice day so far. You hear your front door opening and it only means one thing: Jungkook is here. He is the only one to have a spare key — which was supposed to be for emergency but turned out to be a way to visit you without warning every time he is in the mood to. You start to panic but you don't have time to cover yourself as your best friend's pretty face appears. You feel embarrassed to show so much skin to Jungkook, even though you often fantasize about him seeing way much more. Shock — and some other expression that you could interpret as lust — paints his features. His eyes run through your very exposed body and your cheeks match the color of your 'dress'.

"Are you going to wear that?" Jungkook asks with a as natural as possible tone while he places his hands in front of his crotch to prevent you from noticing his growing boner

"Are you crazy?!" You defend yourself "I fucked up my laundry, that's all. I have no other choice than to throw away my favorite dress" You sigh in despair

On the other side, Jungkook likes the new style of the dress. It's now his favorite. Fuck, you're hot. You look so naughty. And it's even better when you turn around and some of your asscheeks are visible. He wonders how they would jiggle if he'd spanked you. He knows he shouldn't have this kind of thoughts about you but he can't help it. Your body is so fucking perfect. The peak he had of your big rounded tits, covered by your bra which led appear the shadow of your picky nipple, and the almost peak he had of your panties drive him mad. He does't think you should throw the dress away. You should keep it. For him. For when he fucks you.

Jungkook tries to get rid off those thoughts but his hard-on makes it difficult. When you send him off to change, he gladly accepts and opens your fridge, pretending he is looking for some soda, to let the cold soften his cock. You'll be the death of him.

"What are you doing here?" You asks, making your best friend jolt

Jungkook grabs a random can and turns around to discover you are now wearing your usual light green sweatpants and an oversized t-shit — former his, if he might add. You are really messing with his brain because earlier, with your tiny dress, he could pretend that his attraction was just a normal one of a guy seeing a sexily clothed girl. But now, even with a not so appealing outfit, he still thinks you're beautiful and hot.

You lift one brow when your best friend doesn't answer. Jungkook clears his throat and tries to gather his thoughts. He needs to focus on something other than you, otherwise he risks to cancel all his plans to fuck you against your washing machine.

"I wanted to ask you if you wanted to grab some food at PadThailand. It's been a while and I know you like it"

Your heart melts at the fact that Jungkook thought about you before ordering from one of your favorite restaurants. Your smile seems to illuminate the place, so much that your best friend wishes he had sunglasses. You nod with enthusiasm, spurring Jungkook to call the restaurant and book a table.

You've changed, for the third time of the day, into a simple jeans and long sleeves sailor top. You feel proud to match the area of PadThailand, the restaurant being close to one of the small ports of Busan. Delicious scents of fresh cooked fish fill the air, putting you in the mood of eating. You could even change your usual order and try the lemongrass cod fish. You giggle with eagerness, you can't wait to have your stomach full of delicious food.

"You look like you're in a good mood" Jungkook notices, a few meters from the restaurant location

"Of course!" You reply, cheerful "I'm going to one of my favorite restaurants and I'm with my favorite person"

You don't realize how your words made Jungkook stop his track. You continue your way to the door while Jungkook is trying his best to hide his wide bunny grin.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

Friday night. The day of your 'date'.

You did make an effort on your outfit, opting for a cute black denim skirt and silver top. Actually, you were quite surprise when you stepped into the restaurant and discovered that your clothes matched Jungkook's. Your heart skipped a beat at the thought that people around you would mistake you two as a couple. However, the euphoria left soon as your eyes landed on your best friend's date: a gorgeous girl named Minji. It took you everything you have to smile at her and lie while saying 'nice to meet you'.

Thankfully, the awkward silence that was getting set at your table disappears with Jimin's arrival. You can't deny that the brown haired man is handsome. Honestly, if you weren't so head over heels for Jungkook, you could kill to kiss Jimin's pulp lips. You also like the white light cotton t-shirt with longs sleeves Jimin chose to wear: the thin fabric gives a peak of his dark inked patterns. Do you have a tattoo kink? Well, it's definitely Jungkook's fault.

After ordering some drinks and food, you are starting to think that the night is not a complete torture — despite the occasional kisses between Jungkook and Minji. The girl is actually very nice and tries her best to find common tastes between the two of you. It honestly would be way easier if she were a bitch... You can't even hate her!

Jimin, on the other hand, is funny and shares a lot of stories of his last holidays which were a rollercoaster of unpleasant events. You don't have to force yourself to laugh and genuinely find his company pleasant. Yet, you can't imagine having feelings for someone other than Jungkook. You love him like you've never loved before. He swipes away every competition without even trying. He is more handsome, funnier, nicer than anyone else. He knows you more than anyone and he knows how to help you before you can even say you need him. It's like he can read in your mind, what a shame he can't see in your heart that it's full of him...

However, Jungkook begins to regret having set a date for you. Yes, he is Minji's date but it's just an attempt to stop thinking of you. Actually, he thought that if you were with Jimin, it would help him putting an end at his stupid crush. But the dragger in his heart when you smile at Jimin is a clear reminder that it's not just a silly crush... Jimin is having everything Jungkook wants to have with you. He wants to take you at the restaurant, as a date, just the two of you. He genuinely had more fun at PadThailand with you the other day — when he could pretend it was a real date, even if it was just in his head — than now with Minji. But he thinks you'll refuse if he asks you out, you have never acted like Jungkook could be something other than your best friend.

"Hey, Y/N" Minji starts with a cheerfulness that you can imagine innate in her "You said you love reading. You should follow this Wattpad account"

She hands you her phone and you stop breathing when your very username appears on the screen. Your whole body freezes and your blood is redirected in your legs to run away.

"The author is so good! Her writing is amazing" Minji continues

The compliments would please you in other circumstances but right now, it's the worst thing ever.

"And fun fact, the character of JK makes me think of you" She adds as a killer shot for you when she turns to address Jungkook

You feel so ashamed that you just keep your head down, the phone giving you a great excuse for it. You wish you could just curl up and die. Oh my god, what if Jungkook reads it? What if he knows it's about him? He will definitely know JK is supposed to be him! And he will fucking know how you dream about him fucking you in all kind of lustful fantasies! He'll think you're sick and deranged, there is no other way. He'll think you are obsessed with him and will cut all ties with you. Your throat is so tight that you can't even breath properly. You need to escape, far and fast.

You wait ten minutes not to sound suspicious and then fake an emergency, lying that you have received a text from one of your friends. Jimin, so kind by nature, offers you to drop you off but you refuse, even though you do appreciate the gesture. You basically run away and yell a taxi to head home as fast as possible.

Panic takes control of your body, making you shake and breath heavily. You walk back and forth in your bedroom as you wonder how you are going to get rid off this troubled situation. You definitely can't delete your Wattpad account now, it'd look way too suspicious. The only thing that soothe you is that Jungkook doesn't like reading so he won't look at your — erotic — stories. Right?

Why did you have to write those? You are so stupid, fantasizing on your best friend and making the whole world know! You should have kept your sexual dreams in your bed, rather than crystalizing them on white pages.

Your hands cover your burning cheeks before going to the bathroom and splashing some cold water on your face as a ridiculous attempt to wake up from this nightmare.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

Two weeks have passed since the double-date. Jungkook and you have hanged out like nothing happened — actually for Jungkook nothing happened. However, even though you really wanted to hide from him out of embarrassment, you couldn't without presenting yourself as the culprit of these stories. Your best friend was his usual self and he didn't even talk about your Wattpad account, which slowly relieved you. Like you said, Jungkook doesn't like reading, he won't do it so you can live your life without thinking about it anymore. You did stop writing though and you felt sad when you've read comments of people missing you and waiting for the next chapter.

What you don't know is that Minji has insisted so much, arguing that the main male lead of your story was just like Jungkook, that your best friend took on himself to browse through your Wattpad account. And he read everything. At first, he was quite amused at the resemblance: more than the JK name, the fictional character has black hair and tattoos just like him. The sex scenes were intense but still a little too soft for Jungkook who likes it real rough — but it's not like you can know it. But then, Jungkook grew suspicious, some scenes being very familiar to him. Like the one of the two main characters going to the beach but can't to swim because they forgot their swimsuits. Or the one when they were cooking together and JK seasoned the meal the narrator took hours to cook with sugar instead of salt. Another example was an argument between the two characters over the film they should watch at the theatre. Jungkook clearly remembered a very similar scene with you that ended up just like the book: him buying his own ticket for Fast&Furious and you throwing your popcorn on him.

A — absolutely ridiculous and impossible — thought came to his mind: were you the author? That couldn't be. You were his best friend, and you've never seemed to be interested in him — despite his endeavours he might add. But then, how could the scenes in this book be so much like the ones you two'd shared? And then, a crazier thought lighted up in his brain: are all the sex scenes you have written one of your desires? Would you like him to fuck you, to finger you, to lick you? Thinking about your pretty face torn by pleasure made him hard in his pants. He went though the hot scenes for a second time, trying to acknowledge what you like. As insane as it might seem, if Jungkook has the chance to, he'll fuck you and he wants to be prepared. Well, that's if you are indeed the author of the book. Which is such a foolish idea that he can't allow himself to grow too excited because the odds are not in Jungkook's favors.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

You are heading to Jungkook's place after receiving a text from him. He asked you if you wanted to watch a movie and you accepted. However, when you enter his apartment — you also have a spare key of your best friend's door —, the usual bowl of popcorn is no where to be seen. Jungkook has a ravishing look with his grey sweatpants and black oversized t-shirt. It's just his common look but it's so good on him.

"Hi" You greet him with a hug "You don't have any popcorn?"

"No, but maybe I have some underbaked cookies that we could eat with ice cream" He replies

You just freeze. Those underbaked cookies with ice cream are something you've written in your story. Did Jungkook read it? It's a catastrophe. You have to act like it's nothing, like you don't know what he means but god, you're such a shitty actress and your best friend knows you better than anyone else.

"Why would I want underbaked cookies?" You ask but your tone is so unsure that it only betrays you

"I don't know" Jungkook starts "Maybe because I'll get to eat you out to be fully satisfied"

Oh god. He. Did. Read. Everything. You wish the ground opened underneath your feet to swallow you whole. You throat is too dry to reply anything and your burning cheeks are screaming 'I'm the author! I'm guilty your Honor!'. You want to run away but you can't, your body refuses to move and you just keep looking down. You are so ashamed that your eyes get watery. Jungkook must hate you to have sexualized him like you did. Worse, you published this sexualized version of your best friend on the Internet and thousand of people have read it.

"Why did you write those stories?" Jungkook asks you

His tone is not harsh but not sweet either. It's just a little softer than neutral and it hurts in your heart.

"I don't know" You whisper with a shaky voice

"Don't lie to me, Y/N" Jungkook cups your face with his hands to force you to look into his so beautiful doe eyes "Tell me, I'm just trying to understand"

You are destabilized not to see any anger or disgust on your best friend's face. You thought he could be furious but he is not. He really seems curious to know. But that would mean you'd have to confess your feelings and you're not ready to hurt.

"It's just things that came to my mind" You half-lie

"So it doesn't mean anything?"

Your mouth opens in surprise at your best friend's question. Or more precisely at his tone. It's like he is hoping for it to mean something. You're taken aback. It's really not the reaction you expected. You remove his hand from your face so you can try to think again. You're lost in all the overwhelming emotions you're experiencing.

"I-" You start but nothing follows

You don't know what to say. Especially when Jungkook is looking at you with such an intense yet loving eye. Like he wants you. All of you. Your mind, your heart and your body. And you'll be happy to give them to him actually.

"Do you love me, Y/N?"

Once again, your eyes widen. You shouldn't be this surprised, it is just a logical question to ask after your interaction. You want to tell him but you're scared. Jungkook is perfect. He is the most handsome man but it's nothing compared to his personality. He is sweet and caring. He is hard-working and never gives up. He is supportive and always willing to help his friends. He is so perfect. Too perfect for you. You have nothing to offer him, he could find someone better just by snapping his fingers. But your best friend stops all those negative and destroying thoughts when he speaks again.

"You don't have to tell me" Jungkook says with a deep voice you've never heard before "I won't either. But I will show you"

With those last, enigmatic words, he cups your face with his tattooed hand. A immediate feeling of warmth rises upon the area he is touching. His thumb caresses your cheek, so delicately that you could think Jungkook is afraid to break you, but it soon drifts away to land on your bottom lip. The thinner and pinkish skin is soft underneath the pad of his finger and he can't wait any longer: he needs to feel the softness with his own mouth.

He kisses you and god, what a perfect kiss. The best one ever. His pulp lips feel like silk. The pressure is the right one: deep enough to draw butterflies in your stomach but not too much to completely overpower you. Jungkook wants to give you the opportunity to stop the kiss if you want to. But you surely don't want to. Quite the opposite: you want more.

Your hands go up to hide in his black hair to keep him close. It's the sign Jungkook waited to deepen the kiss. His hands are now on your back, pressing you closer against his strong body. Everything is just right. You seem to know each other's body like your own. Jungkook said he was going to show you he loved you and he does. The kiss is passionate but so loving at the same time. You have the feeling to fall in love with him all over again.

Without breaking the kiss, he leads you to his bedroom, which is easy since you know well his apartment. Jungkook takes off your shirt and he looks at your breasts long enough for you to grow embarrassed. But then he whispers to himself 'so perfect' and you don't feel unsure anymore. The way Jungkook looks at you makes you feel like the most beautiful woman alive. To be fair, you are for him.

Jungkook cups your tits still covered by your bra and leans down to hide his face in the valley of your boobs. God, he loves them so much. You moan when he starts to kiss the available skin. But it's not enough, for any of you. Your hand sneaks behind your back to undo your bra and finally free your breasts. Jungkook doesn't waste time and grabs one boob before squeezing it in his large and warm palm. His mouth works on your other nipple, licking, sucking and even deliciously biting it.

He invites you to lean on his bed and you're happy to do it. Jungkook grabs the hem of your pants and slides them down with your panties. Your pussy is already glistening with arousal and it's driving him crazy. He can't even control himself when he step closer to eat you out. His tongue is fast and precise on your clit and you can't help the moans from escaping your lips. Your head is thrown back and your fists are clenched around the sheets. Your cunt is soaked by your horniness and Jungkook's saliva, creating a real mess between your legs.

"More" You groan

Jungkook smirks while he enters your tight pussy with two fingers. The stretch is so fucking good that you whimper. His pace doesn't show any mercy but you fucking love it. Maybe it's Jungkook's skills or maybe it's your strong feelings for him but your orgasm is close. Your legs start shaking and you rest them on your best friend's shoulders.

"Your pussy is so good" He says against your wet clit "You've dreamt about that, uh? You little minx"

Your head is spinning because of your horniness. You feel like drowning into pleasure and Jungkook's expert fingers hitting your g-sport repeatedly are pushing you over the edge. Your back arches and your toes curl while you're trying to control your orgasm. It's too good, you don't want Jungkook to stop just now. But then, he talks again:

"I've read how you wanted me to eat your pretty pussy. You're a little slut for me, isn't that right?"

His dirty mouth — both words and acts — makes you cum on his face and fingers. Jungkook's digits are squeezed tightly by your walls and he pushes your limits by pushing on your sweet spot harder. It cuts your breathe and you feel your orgasm lasting and lasting until you can't take the overstimulation anymore. Your legs try to close but they are stopped by Jungkook's head and your hands tug on his hair.

"I'll fuck you good"

Jungkook's promise lights up your body once again. You settle down from your high just in time to watch his strip show. His pecs and abs are so perfect. You wish you could lick them but your body is still in the fog of your orgasm so you just can lift your hand to caress him like you've dreamt of so many time. His skin is warm and soft but his muscles are hard right under. Jungkook closes his eyes to enjoy your touch. He's imagined it many times before you and your delicate fingers on him are delightful. His hard cock twitches in his pants when your hand reaches the hem of his sweatpants. The bulge is clearly visible and your mouth waters.

You push the pieces of fabric down to free is big cock. Oh god, it's bigger than you thought. Some pre-cum is leaking from his tip and you use it to jerk him off. Jungkook growls out of delight and your hand works fast on his length. The sight of your small hand around his cock is fucking hot but Jungkook wants to fuck you. You two will have a lot of time in the future to experience other things.

"I want to fuck you" Jungkook says but it's also a consent question

As much as he wants to, he won't if you tell him no.

"I want it too, Kook"

Your best friend walks to his nightstand after getting off of his pants and underwear. He grabs a condom that he quickly puts on and joins you on the bed. You're gorgeous, all naked, in his bed. Lust is written on your face and he still can't believe you're looking at him. He wants to worship you and he will, but right now, he will fuck you like there is no tomorrow.

You open your legs wider for Jungkook to take place between them. He grabs his hard cock and slides the tip up and down on your folds. Your back arches.

"Please, Kook, I want you" Your whipped voice is driving him crazy

He enters slowly, not wishing to hurt you. The way his dick is stretching you out is insane. Jungkook is big but it's fucking good. He fills you so well. When he sees you relaxing, he starts to move back and forth. Your soaked pussy helps him to enter you without any difficulty. His hands cup your face to kiss you. Your moans are swallowed by Jungkook's mouth and your hands grabs his wrists when he pounds you at a faster pace. Soon, your tits are bouncing with rhythm and your groans get louder.

The grab on your jaws tightens and Jungkook rests his forehead on yours. He fucks you passionately. You wrap your legs around his waist to deepen the poundings. The slight change of angle places his dick directly to your g-spot.

"Here!" You scream and clench around him

"Your pussy is so tight but you still want to be fucked rough" Jungkook smirks "You told everyone but me. I'm so disappointed, baby"

His dick strokes are harsher and deeper, kicking the air of your lungs every time. The sound your clapping skins create is loud and sinful. You're close again and Jungkook can feel it.

"You're sure you don't want to tell me that you love me?" He asks with heavy breathe "Because I'll fuck you better if you do"

It's enough for you. Your walls are squeezing him impossibly tight. Jungkook almost winces but the fucked expression on your face is so worth it.

"I love you, Kook!" You scream when you cum hard on his cock, your vison blurred by the tears of pleasure and love filing your eyes

The euphoric state provoked by your orgasm and your feelings make you loose your mind. You kiss him but a salty taste mixes in your kiss. When Jungkook wipes the corners of your eyes, you realize you're crying. You don't even know why.

"I love you too" Jungkook whispers

A few more hard poundings are provided and Jungkook cums in the condom. You're both panting and Jungkook is almost crushing you but you don't care. His face is hidden in the crook of your neck, kissing your skin tenderly. You hug him tightly when you finally realize that your best friend loves you too.

Your cry shakes your body and Jungkook lifts up his head and his heart squeezes when he sees you.

"Hey, don't cry, baby"

He kisses every single inch of your face: your lips, your cheeks, your nose, your forehead and even your eyes to make your tears disappear.

Jungkook pulls out of you and takes off his condom. He quickly comes back to hug you tight. You truly appreciate how gentle he is. He has always been but now, with the love in his eyes, it's even better. Your whole body feels full of love. You know it's the right moment to share all the things you've kept to yourself for years.

"My head and my heart are full of you" You say "I'm drowning in the ocean of the love I feel for you. I love so much that it hurts, Kook"

"Your words feel so good" Jungkook replies with watery eyes, gently patting your hair "I can't describe as good as you my feelings but one thing I can say is that I love you. I love you, Y/N, and I'll never be tired of telling you or showing you how much I do"

You cry like a baby, undoubtedly the result of your post-sex tiredness and the tsunami of emotions Jungkook's confession provokes. It's the first time tears provoked by your best friend are welcomed.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

"So, what's next?" Jungkook asks the next day during breakfast

Just as the last time you've spent the night at his place, he woke up with a morning wood. Except that, this time, you made love. It was different from yesterday but as good. Maybe even better because you weren't in the over-everything that your love confessions provoked. You took your time, you kissed and kissed again while caressing and feeling each other.

"Maybe I'll need some inspiration for the next date scenes" You tease him

Jungkook giggles while scrunching his cute nose. He knows you so well and yet, this part of you, your writer part, was completely unknown until a few days ago. He also knows that your book is just an excuse to take you on a date. Honestly, he doesn't have to make any excuse to ask you on a date. He wants to do it. He has been wanting for years and now, you're his girlfriend.

"You're sure you don't need inspiration for your sex scenes?" He asks playfully

You smile and scoot closer to wrap your arms around his neck.

"I could use some help" You whisper before kissing him

#bts smut #bts fanfic #bts jungkook #bts #jjk x reader #jjk #jeon jungkook #jungkook #bts one shot #one shot #bts f2l

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erinkeifer · 7 months

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ℕ𝕠𝕥 𝕞𝕪 𝕔𝕠𝕕𝕖

[Anakin Skywalker x Padawan!Fem Reader]

Masterlist | Wattpad | AO3 Not My Code Masterlist

Summary: For several years, you've been Anakin Skywalker's Padawan. Even though you're afraid to admit it, you've burned out. You have no intention of adhering to the Jedi code any longer, and fighting for the Republic has ceased to be your sole purpose in life. However, your knighthood is approaching soon, but before that happens, you must undergo one final training session alongside your master. Why won't you complete it?

Author Note: I wouldn't technically call it pure 'smut' but due to nudity and sexual tension, I would classify my text as suitable for readers aged 18+. I apologize for any inconvenience!

Word Count: 4,2k

This isn't the first time something inside you has started to crack before entering the training room. The closer the knighting ceremony approached, the more your thoughts turned away from the Order. Obi-Wan's lectures no longer resonated with you – though you hold him in the highest regard, you no longer see value in the moralizing lessons about what Jedi can and cannot do.

For some time now, he no longer stops you in the corridor to share his guidance repeatedly, believing that since he handed you over to Anakin, you would become more disciplined and loyal to the Order.

Well... it's quite the opposite.

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Today's training was a torment - not because Anakin demanded too much, and not because you were resistant to the activities. This time, Anakin's mind was completely elsewhere, and there were moments when he wasn't even paying attention to what you were doing. The lack of instructions left you unsure of what to do, and the minutes of exercises stretched out like hours.

At this time, the contours of the training room were illuminated only by the view of the nighttime Coruscant and the blue glow of your lightsaber. You practiced old, familiar combat forms while Anakin stood with his back turned to you, gazing pensively at the view beyond the mighty glass window.

For you, it was supposed to be training as usual, and you stuck to that. You wanted to impress your Master as much as possible, and despite the lack of guidance, you operated at full throttle. However, even increasing your performance didn't allow you to focus when your thoughts drifted to Anakin.

There was a cloud of tension over him, so thick that you could hardly recognize him. And even though you knew that he had experienced some rough days since his divorce from Padme, today you sensed something entirely different.

"Focus," Anakin mumbled, standing with his arms crossed behind his back, his gaze fixed on the cityscape.

In moments like these, you always cursed your ability to read each other's emotions. You chose to remain silent in response to his words and continued your improvised training as if nothing had happened. At least for a while.

"Master?" You paused, trying to get his attention.

"Master, do you even know what I'm doing right now?" You added, deactivating your lightsaber.

Anakin didn't react to your words, which filled you with even greater concern. Was it your fault? Did you mess something up? Did you disappoint him? Negative thoughts swirled in your head so intensely that you didn't even notice when you first addressed him by his name.

"Anakin? What's going on?"

Hearing his name, he almost immediately turned towards you, remaining silent for the first few moments.

"Please, go back to your training," he uttered after a brief silence, causing even more doubts within you.

"No..." You replied after a while, gathering your thoughts to justify your actions.

"So we have nothing to talk about." Anakin interrupted, turning back towards the window.

"I can't even remember the last time we had a normal conversation... Master, I'm just worried," you said, gently grabbing Anakin's arm.

"Worried? About what?" he muttered, not even looking at your anxious face.

"About you. You're... different. Lately, we can't even work together... communicate..." you replied in an emotional tone, receiving only silence in return.

"I know the past few months haven't been kind to you... the divorce from Padme was tr..."

"Don't say that name," Anakin impulsively interrupted, turning towards you and removing your hand from his arm.

His tone abruptly turned rough and commanding, and the gesture he made instinctively made you take a step back.

"I'm sorry, Master, I didn't mean to..."

"So, tell me what you meant," Anakin cut you off once again, and you felt the boundary you were trying to establish in your communication with your Master shatter.

"Whatever is happening, good or not, I want to know... I want to know if I might be the problem here by any chance. Am I making a mistake? Am I getting on your nerves?" The longer you spoke, the more anxious your tone became.

"You shouldn't care about that. Our path is coming to an end soon, and ahead of you lies a new one that you'll traverse on your own... unless your conflict dictates otherwise," Anakin replied with a serious tone, this time not averting his gaze from you.

Hearing about the conflict sent shivers down your spine. Did Obi-Wan tell him about your doubts? Or, worse, does he know about your stance towards the Order?

"Conflict? W-what do you mean?" you stammered, feeling the stress engulfing you more and more.

"Let's be serious. I didn't need anyone to convey your doubts to me... I know that this training means little to you," Anakin explained in a calmer tone.

"It's not like that... I've always been committed..."

"Believe me, you have no reason to give up. Leaving the Order at this stage is not a good choice, especially for..."

"Master, please stop," you interrupted Anakin, feeling like you had nothing left to lose. He had seen through you completely. You no longer cared whether he found out on his own or through someone else.

"I have a reason for it," you replied with a trembling voice, trying to gradually focus all of Anakin's attention on yourself.

"What reason?" he asked with a voice full of doubt.

"It's about you, Master," you continued, not believing you had spoken those words.

"I'm sorry, but..." You felt yourself slowly falling apart. Anakin stood before you in complete confusion, and you seized the moment. You stood on tiptoe to reach his face, and your lips collided. The kiss you gave him was so intense that it would have sufficed if it were never to happen again. At least that was the intention, because the reality was entirely different - no longer, deeper, more intense kiss would satisfy you enough to leave this room fulfilled.

Anakin broke the kiss, not believing what had just happened. As soon as your gazes returned to each other – his, full of confusion, and yours, filled with guilt and shame – Anakin distanced himself and had no idea what to do with himself. He nervously glanced around the room.

"Go back to your quarters. Training is over," he replied in a cold, trembling tone, and you did as he commanded.

Tears welled up in your eyes even before leaving the training room. It felt like your end – the official end with the Jedi and the end of a certain chapter in your life, which, despite everything, had seemed to be the most beautiful.

The doors slammed shut behind you with a bang, and as soon as you found yourself in the corridor, you began to run. You sobbed, knowing that at this time, no one should be wandering down this path, even though you knew it was not a place where you could afford to release your emotions.

Without the strength to use the Force, you opened the door to your room with a code and impulsively slammed it shut behind you. As soon as you removed the belt with your lightsaber and tossed it aside, you threw yourself onto your bed, burying your head in the pillow, trying to scream and cry out all your emotions and the indescribable pain inside you.

It was a moment when you felt as if you were awaiting execution rather than preparing for sleep. The pain consumed you from within to the point that you might have understood for the first time why Jedi couldn't have attachments.

A dead silence filled the room, against which your sobbing became even more piercing. You wished you could escape from the temple – you just wanted to run away and leave Coruscant without a trace, but you knew it was impossible.

At that moment, you felt someone's presence. The door to your room slowly opened, even though you had made sure to lock it.

Anakin.

You felt as if your heart had stopped, and only the darkest thoughts filled your mind. You were certain he had come to reprimand you, perhaps take away your lightsaber, or even expel you from the temple. Drenched in tears, turned away from your master, you waited as if for a judgment.

"Master, I... I'm so sorry... I swear, I..." you stammered with a trembling voice, feeling Anakin's gaze on your back as he stood in the doorway.

"Never do this again," Anakin interrupted in a stern voice. As he spoke those words, you sat on the bed motionless, lacking the courage to turn and look at him.

Soon, you shuddered at the sound of the door closing. Although at first, you were certain your master had left the room, you realized that what you had heard was the sound of the lock being turned from the inside.

"Not where the surveillance can see us," he added after a moment, slowly making his way toward you.

It was a moment when you froze. Not knowing what to do, you nervously got off the bed, still avoiding eye contact with Anakin.

"Don't," Anakin said, noticing that you were about to turn toward him.

You stood there, trembling, your back still turned to your master, not knowing what he meant. You felt vulnerable, and though the fear still lingered within you, this time you sensed that the kind of tension that had built up around Anakin was entirely different from what you had experienced before.

He sensed you better than you sensed him. He felt every flicker of your fear, felt your sadness, and the tension you had laid out before him like a platter. His steps sent shivers down your spine, but you no longer heard them. He stood right behind you, mere millimeters from your back.

His right mechanical hand, clad in a black leather glove, landed on your waist. Your cutout white jumpsuit exposed your bare skin there, so you instantly felt the chill of his touch.

"Don't be afraid of me," he whispered into your ear after a moment, causing you to feel the warmth of his breath on your cheek.

Your body was completely paralyzed under his touch – you stood still, nervously swallowing saliva as you looked at your reflections in the glass tiles on the wall in front of where you both stood.

"I- I'm not." you whispered so softly that as soon as Anakin realized you were trying to speak, he leaned down lower to understand what you meant.

"I feel something else." Anakin replied, bringing his face close to yours to the point where you could feel the touch of his heated cheek. You had never been this close to him, and his scent, which reminded you of a combination of leather and saffron, was intoxicating.

You closed your eyes, and soon you felt his lips on your neck – it was a moment when you felt as if an electric current had passed through you, so intense that you didn't even notice when his left, uncovered hand landed on the other side of your waist.

This time, the touch of his hand felt much more passionate to you – and it was hardly surprising because at this moment, he felt your body with his own skin, not touch sensors.

You shivered slightly when you suddenly felt him bite the soft skin on your neck, and you instinctively entwined your fingers in his messy, wavy hair, gently massaging it at the roots. As he felt the touch of your hand, he sucked on your skin even harder than before, leaving purple bruises one after another.

You had the feeling that it was a dream. You couldn't believe what was happening, but second by second, it was sinking in that every movement was happening here and now. It wasn't a dream, and everything you felt was real and intense – you also knew that you wanted to give the same to Anakin.

You wanted to give him pleasure, and in some way... you had known it for a long time.

Gently, you raised his left hand to your face, which had been attached to your body until now, and started kissing it – the longer you did it, the more passion you put into it. Anakin lifted his lips from your neck to watch your movements through your arm.

You tried to satisfy his gaze to the point that you didn't even notice when his fingers traveled to your mouth. At this moment, the tension that buzzed within him was gradually approaching a very dangerous limit - you felt it as intensely as never before.

You finally wanted to look into his eyes and see something more than just the corner of his face, so you gently lowered his hand, moist from your kisses, to turn around and face your Master. Anakin realized your intention faster than you expected - without saying anything, he grabbed you by your waist with such force that you instinctively clenched your teeth - he didn't allow you to change your position.

"Master, I just..." you began nervously, but quickly stopped when you felt Anakin's hand on your face.

"Shhh... I know." he whispered, his face very close to yours, and expecting your obedience, he removed his hand from your face.

You stood still for a moment, only to suddenly feel Anakin tearing apart the upper part of your jumpsuit with both of his hands. The material was elastic and snug against your body, but thin enough that he ripped it into pieces with surprising ease.

At that moment, Anakin spun you around to have you face him. You felt like your legs were giving way beneath you at the sight of his heated expression. You could swear there was something wild in his demeanor—his eyes seemed darker than usual, and his pupils pulsed, scanning every detail of your face.

"Now, say what you wanted to say," Anakin whispered, gazing into your eyes, which were still swollen from your earlier tears.

You didn't intend to cry anymore, at least not out of despair... Only out of pleasure.

"Nothing. Just... continue," you murmured timidly, glancing with flushed cheeks at the torn neckline of your outfit as it hung down.

"Good girl," he whispered under his breath, slowly bringing his face closer to yours.

You closed your eyes as Anakin began to kiss the spots on your cheeks where the traces of your earlier tears had run. Although you could feel the tension simmering within him, he did it incredibly gently, tracing sweet kisses along a smooth path until he reached your lips.

You expected this to be the point where the gentleness would end – and you were absolutely right. You let him take the lead in this situation – your lips were practically motionless, and your mouth slightly parted as he passionately and slowly sucked on them. After a moment, you took action yourself, exploring his firm lips enough to taste them and never forget their flavor.

Your kisses became messy and aggressive, and through half-closed eyelids, you watched as his lips and cheeks reddened. Soon, you felt him grab your torn jumpsuit's jagged collar with his hands, and with a determined motion, he slid it down. You sensed his deep breath on your breasts when he realized you weren't wearing any underwear, and his pupils dilated, exploring your bare chest amidst the shreds of white fabric.

After a moment of scanning your body with his gaze, his exposed hand found its way to your chest. Immersing yourself in his passionate touch, you intertwined your fingers with his hand anchored to your body, feeling the smooth skin beneath your fingertips and your own exposed form.

"What do you feel?" Anakin whispered, but you didn't hear his words when he kept his lips at your collarbone.

"Hm?" you murmured, inquiringly, making eye contact with him.

"Tell me. What do you feel?" You had always loved his voice, but hearing it in this situation, when his tone was strong and hungry, made your heart race steadily.

"I don't know how to... Uh... It's just..." you mumbled, hesitating to confess how strong the desire you were feeling was. Instead, you pressed his hands against your bare chest and closed your eyes, allowing him to sense your emotions through the Force.

"No," Anakin said firmly, sliding his hands down to your waist.

"I can feel you perfectly. I feel everything, but I want to hear it," he added, gazing deeply into your eyes.

You were a transparent mirror of your emotions for him, and nothing could hide from him. He knew it, and you knew it, and you had never felt more exposed to anyone.

"I... I feel... Anakin... I want you," you forced out, feeling your cheeks burn with embarrassment.

After your words, the tension in him increased, and his hands tightened on your skin.

"Prove it," he whispered after a moment, releasing his hands from your body, as if giving you free rein.

Even though you were determined to prove it to him at all costs, you didn't know where to start.

Anakin stood before you in his black robes, which you were eager to start removing, but you had no idea how to proceed. Without further calculation, you entwined your hands in his hair and began kissing his neck – initially gently and sensually, but soon you did it greedily, in sync with his accelerating heartbeat.

You nibbled and sucked on his skin, and his accelerated breaths urged you to continue. Your tongue traced along the line of his jaw, and one of your hands clenched on his robed chest.

You felt shivers hearing the soft, intermittent moans he emitted as you caressed his skin, and your inhibition gradually faded, so you wondered what your next move would be.

"Enough," he uttered in a stern and gruff tone.

You were shocked by what he said, but he didn't allow you to dwell on it any longer. He grabbed you with both strong hands and pushed you back, causing you to land on your bed. You lay on your back and observed his movements as he took a few steps to stand over you, wearing the most arrogant of smirks.

You froze as you noticed Anakin beginning to unbuckle his belt, all the while not breaking eye contact with you. Biting your lip, you observed his every move, and as he discarded the first layer of his robes, you began to slide down the lower part of your jumpsuit.

"Let me..." Anakin interrupted your actions as he saw what you were getting at and raised his mechanical hand towards your waist.

With a single, confident motion, Anakin slid the lower part of your jumpsuit down and removed the tall boots fastened to them, leaving you in just your panties. You felt excitement coursing through him as he watched you in such a state, and as you suspected, he couldn't wait any longer.

He lunged towards you, eager to be on top, and you both immediately engaged in a fervent kiss, touching each other's bodies as if time were running out.

In the midst of your passionate touches, you felt your hips collide, and instinctively, you wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him closer. Your mind raced as you felt Anakin's pulsating rhythm as he rubbed his hips against the most sensitive parts of your body, gradually picking up the pace, knowing he was pushing you to the edge of endurance.

"Anakin... Please." you whispered straight into his moist lips, after which his face lifted to look you directly in the eyes.

"Please what?" he replied with a hungry tone, expecting you to elaborate.

"I... I want..." you began to mumble.

"Words. I need your words." he whispered, maneuvering his hand around your lower abdomen.

"Fuck." you muttered under your breath, feeling how his touch electrified your entire body.

"Do you want this? Do you want me to fuck you?" he continued in a hoarse, desire-filled voice.

"Yes... Yes, please," you squeezed out, impulsively reaching for his belt, which, though unfastened, was still in place.

"Say it. Tell me what you want me to do to you." he commanded, holding your hand against his belt.

"I want you to fuck me," you responded with a breathless voice and, finally, a hint of self-assurance.

"That's what I meant," he whispered with a slight, teasing smirk, then quickly pushed the belt aside to pull his clothes down from the waist up.

With butterflies in your stomach, you admired his impressive, naturally sculpted chest as he knelt on the bed between your legs, which you soon spread a bit wider to make more room for him. Anakin knelt, scanning every inch of your body with his eyes, but he knew that one more element was missing to complete the picture.

His hand smoothly moved up your thigh and landed on your panties, where it lingered for a while. You moaned when his fingers began to massage you through the thin fabric, but for some reason, you held back from making louder sounds, which Anakin noticed.

"The walls are soundproofed. You can scream as loud as you need to... The louder, the better," he reassured you, seeing how nervously you glanced around the room, and you nodded.

After a moment of teasing you through your clothes, Anakin reached for his pants, but after some consideration, he postponed that task and took hold of your hands.

"Do it," he said, and you pulled yourself into a half-sitting position, allowing yourself to be carried away by your intrusive thoughts.

You started by kissing his chest, gradually moving down from his collarbones. Repaying him for the purple bruises on your neck, you left a few of your own on his body as you sucked on his skin, making your way down to his abdomen.

You paused when your hands began to unbutton his pants, during which Anakin helped you by pushing his pants down the sides.

Without waiting any longer, you slipped your hand beneath his underwear, and upon feeling him, you had to admit that you were a bit concerned about whether you could handle it. Well... It's more than impressive.

With your free hand, you pushed his clothing down a bit further and began to massage him with considerable force, so much so that Anakin immediately groaned and, overwhelmed by the feeling, tilted his head backward.

"Keep.... Uh... Keep it this way." Anakin murmured, propping himself up on his arms on the bed.

You nodded, biting your lip, and continued, carefully observing the pleasure on his face. Both of you knew, however, that you wouldn't finish this way, so you began to slide off the last piece of your clothing with your free hand. But you flinched when you heard an unfamiliar sound.

"What's that? Did you hear that?" Anakin immediately turned his face toward you when he heard your words and waited for a moment to catch the presumed sound.

"General Skywalker, can you hear us?"

"Fuck," Anakin cursed, completely shocked, as he realized someone was trying to contact him through the communicator embedded in his belt.

Your disappointment was equally profound. The only thing you could do at this point was to grab your head and collapse on the bed right next to him.

"Will you answer?" you whispered, feeling Anakin's growing anger.

"I'm afraid I have no choice." he replied through gritted teeth, then rolled onto the bed enough to reach for the communicator.

"I hear you. What's the problem?" he relayed, masking his frustration as best as he could.

"General, it's better if you get here as soon as possible. We had an explosion near the temple, and there are injuries among our people. I'm sending the coordinates."

Anakin clenched his hand on the communicator and nervously swallowed, realizing that his plans for the night had just taken a 180-degree turn.

"You'd better check what's going on there," you whispered, gently stroking his shoulder.

Both of you knew it was inevitable. So, without saying anything more, Anakin left one last passionate kiss on your lips and began to put his clothes back on. Meanwhile, you pulled out some lighter nightwear from one of the drawers and threw it on temporarily, knowing that you would need to shower and change properly in the bathroom once Anakin left.

"I'm sorry about this," he said to you with a disappointed tone.

"No... You shouldn't be. I understand... Go and make sure everyone is safe."

Anakin just nodded and grabbed the doorknob, but he stopped for a moment as he was about to leave.

"Same time tomorrow?" he asked again, making eye contact with you.

"Tomorrow. Same time, Master." you replied, running your fingers through your hair. This time, both of you exchanged a mischievous smirk, but Anakin's gaze on you was like never before. He looked at you as if he had just discovered something, as if he had unearthed a treasure he desired and wanted to dig up even more.

"Get some rest." he managed to say before finally closing the door to your room.

That was the moment when you felt drained. You felt disappointment, but also an incredible, surreal ecstasy. You fell onto the bed and didn't know what to do next, other than to gaze up at the ceiling.

Well... whatever you do, one thing is for sure—you won't be sleeping tonight.

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unseededtoast · 6 months

Text

Take My Hand | Spencer Reid x F! Reader

Part Two to I Stayed There

Inspired by “Right Where You Left Me” by Taylor Swift

Summary: In which almost a decade later unlikely paths cross again, with little time to make big decisions. What once was broken can be mended, and the past can be forgiven. Frozen hearts can be reignited and destined souls can become one again. But only if given the chance.

Cross posted on Wattpad and AO3 and here is my masterlist!

wc: 10.3k

warnings: a lot of angst, pining, men begging on their knees, emotional turmoil

a/n: howdy folks, back at it again with part two. I want to thank everyone for the overwhelming support on part one, and I really hope part two lives up to your expectations. It got a little lengthy, but I hope you all enjoy it. And as always, thank you so very much for taking the time to read my stories, I appreciate each and every one of you.

"I knew if I told you that there was someone else that you wouldn't push the issue. I knew you loved me too much to interfere with my happiness. I used your own love against you and I am so sorry." He sniffles and pushes tears from his eyes.

His words feel like someone has punched you square in the stomach. Spencer had never found anyone else, he just wanted to protect you. He loved you too much to let you be harmed. Realizing his actions were done out of pure love, and not betrayal, a sob bubbles up from your chest.

Years upon years you had spent every night in envy of the other woman who was receiving Spencer's love. Months had been dedicated to wondering what you could've done differently to keep him from leaving. Countless weeks spent in agonizing misery, mourning and yearning for the love of your life.

Eight years, eleven months, and twenty-eight days. That's how much time has passed since Spencer had walked out, and every day that passes and another day is added to the count, his heart grows heavier.

Sure, he's able to get up in the mornings and do his job thoroughly, but the joy life once had has faded. He's become jaded, and everyone has noticed. They've all just accepted that it's who he is now. He no longer tries to go out of his way to inquire about his teammates and their lives, he stopped practicing his magic tricks when there was downtime. Instead, he keeps to himself for the most part. The only time the team really hears from him is when there's an active case.

The first year or so the team had given him some grace, they understood how badly the break up had affected him; they assumed he'd bounce back eventually, but more and more time passed with no indication of returning to his former self.

And after a while they stopped trying to set him up with dates, they quit teasing him about being disinterested in getting back out there. Spencer had never told them exactly what happened, but after they stopped, he suspected Derek filled in the blanks for them.

Truthfully, the rest of the team had taken pity on him; they understood all too well why he had initiated the breakup. But even with their knowledge and insight, they are still saddened by what Spencer has become, and they wish every day that his old personality will resurface. But until that day comes, if it ever does, they will remain supportive from a distance with which he is comfortable with.

"You ready for the next case?" Derek asks Spencer as he stirs the sugar into his coffee. Spencer stares at the rising steam before answering.

"Yeah, I'm ready." He replies and grabs the cup, following Derek to the briefing room where JJ and the rest are awaiting them.

Spencer takes his usual spot and listens to JJ explain the case. It's a local case, a wife gone missing in the middle of the day yesterday. From the photos, it looks like it could've been a burglary gone bad. Spencer zones out a little while JJ is explaining, instead focusing on his coffee, which he wishes he would've put more sugar into. After JJ has completed the brief, the team heads out to start working, and like usual, Spencer is tasked with the geographical profile.

Derek works alongside him under the order of Hotch while the rest go explore leads. The two of them work silently and efficiently, singling out places of interest to investigate and narrowing down a perimeter for officers to search.

"What do you think about it?" Derek breaks the silence, earning a sigh from Spencer. He steps away from the board and crosses his arms, studying what they have so far.

"I think it's weird that nothing of value was really missing, just the wife. You'd think if it were a burglary gone bad the unsub would've taken something else." Spencer's eyes dance across the crime scene photos, mind working a hundred miles a minute to make sense of this.

"Well maybe it wasn't a burglary." Derek says, eyes trained on a photo of the husband who reported his wife missing.

"Maybe not." Spencer agrees, and the two of them delve back into the work.

-----

You stir your tea around in your cup, settling on the couch for some morning television before you start your day. There's a laundry list of things you need to get done, only you lack the necessary motivation to get started on it all. Your hand finds the remote and turns the volume up, the woman on the screen piquing your interest and distracting you from your responsibilities.

"Mrs. Greene was reported missing late last night by her husband. At this time, her whereabouts are still unknown, and the authorities urge you to contact them if you have any information." The news reporter speaks with clarity and urgency. A photo of the missing woman pops onto the screen, but you don't recognize her. You hope they find her alive, but you know cases like this usually don't end well.

Thinking about what might have happened to the woman, your mind drifts to Spencer, and you wonder how he would approach the case. Would he immediately suspect the husband? Or would he hold off on judgment until he got the facts straight? Running your hand over his blanket, you wish he was here to talk about it.

Though it's been almost nine years at this point, there isn't a day that goes by that you don't think of him. You hope he's doing well, you hope he's found happiness. And at this point, you even think he might have a family of his own. But you try not to dwell on that thought too long, for it still makes you sick to your stomach to imagine him having a family with anyone other than you.

Of course, you could always ask Derek, but you think that a part of you would prefer not to know. Because if you don't know for sure, then there's always a chance that you're wrong. In order to stay functional you need the plausible deniability. While you want him to be happy, and you want him to live his life to the fullest, his absence is still very prominent and noticeable to you.

After you finish your tea, you place your cup on the white tablecloth adorning the dining room table, red stain having faded to pink from time and wear. And while the stain may fade, you know for a fact your memory about that morning will always be in your mind. And if the stain wasn't enough of a reminder, the scars on the bottoms of your feet are. It still hurts to step a certain way after all this time, the glass had embedded itself deeply into your skin, causing lasting damage.

Once you get ready for the day, you embark on the errands you have to run. A small part inside of you is excited about this new journey; it'll be like a fresh start and you think that's exactly what you need. You don't really want to move away, you love this city, but it houses memories that will forever hold you prisoner if you let them; and you've let them for the past nine years. The other part of you, the part that still clings to Spencer, is suffering and it makes this decision ten times harder. The guilt slowly, but surely, eats away at you with each step you take down the street but you try to convince yourself that this is the right move to be making.

Ignoring your emotional turmoil, you walk into the leasing agent's building and find her office easily, having already been here once last week to start the process of relisting the apartment. She welcomes you in and explains the paperwork as you sit across from her. The agent tells you where to sign and when you will need to be out of the apartment once you've submitted the paperwork. She said that since Spencer had taken his name off the lease years ago, that this process is a hundred times easier since there's no permission needed from him anymore. It's a bittersweet statement you realize.

You take the papers from the agent's office and tell her that you'll be back soon with everything signed. She had wanted you to fill everything out right there, but you couldn't bring yourself to do it. After all, this apartment holds so much sentimental value and the thought of it being someone else's makes your heart ache. You'll have to build yourself up to sign them, once you've fully convinced yourself that this is the right thing to do. And you know that once you sign those papers, the tiny part of Spencer you still have, will be yours no longer.

After the leasing agent's office, you take a trip to a moving company to get a quote on how much it would cost to move your things from Virginia to Colorado. The price they gave you was a little steeper than you had hoped for, but you thank them nonetheless and try to figure out how to foot that bill while also finding a new place to live. There are a few places in your sights, but you had yet to decide on one.

You return to your apartment after you had completed the last few errands on your list, dropping the stack of papers onto the dining table and unloading the groceries you had picked up on your way back home. The sun had started to set and so you turned on a few lamps and lit a candle, wanting to try to soothe your anxieties after today and have a relaxing evening.

A glass of wine finds its way into your hand after dinner, you kick your feet up on the coffee table and sip while staring at the screen in front of you. They're running another story on the missing woman, but it seems they have more details. Intrigued, you turn the volume up.

"Authorities are now saying that the scene looks like it could have been a robbery gone bad. Informants on the scene noted that there were signs of a struggle inside the residence. If you noticed any suspicious activity, contact the sheriff's office immediately." The reporter switches to a different story, and you change the channel, wanting to know more about the missing woman. And you know there's always one channel that seems to be ahead of the news.

The reporter is a fiery blonde-haired lady who makes her opinions well-known to the public. And you know her persona is probably partially to generate views and interest value, but you can't deny that she's able to get insider information quicker than the traditional news channels. Sure enough, the woman's face is on the center of the screen, and she's going on about Mrs. Greene's disappearance in a very animated manner.

"You're telling me that a husband reports his wife missing hours after he was aware of her absence? He knew that she was gone since at least the afternoon, and he didn't report it to police until almost the next day? Not only that, but there's been a disturbance in the house! From the photos I've seen so far, the ottoman in the living room was knocked over, the coffee table was shattered, and the dining room chairs were all sorts of disheveled. And to top it all off, I've got someone on the scene there, and they just told us that police are reporting a positive luminol test. There was blood on the scene that's been cleaned up. Now I'm no expert, but I think that certainly casts suspicion on Mr. Greene." Her voice drones on and on about her theory that Mr. Greene was most definitely involved in the disappearance of his wife, but something about the details is oddly familiar, you just can't quite put your finger on it.

You go to bed that night trying to recall why those details sound so familiar. Tossing and turning, you struggle to pinpoint where you've heard something like that before and it's beginning to drive you insane. The plots of movies and shows run through your mind, trying to piece things together, but to no avail. You eventually drift off to sleep, and for the first night in nine years, your dreams are full of something other than Spencer; your mind finally has something compelling enough to mull over to distract you from the cold, empty spot beside you.

The morning comes and your hand ghosts over the spot next to you, like it does every morning. You had hoped that by now your unconscious would understand that he's not here to hold close in the morning anymore, but you wake up the same way every day; full of sorrow and longing. With a sigh, you push yourself out of bed, the air feeling crisp against your skin. What you wouldn't give for five minutes of Spencer's warmth.

Your morning routine comes and goes, and you find yourself staring at a stack of cardboard boxes, waiting to be filled. Hands on your hips, you look around at everything that needs to be packed. Things are either coming with you, or they're being returned to their rightful owner. You still had no idea how you're going to get everything back to Spencer, but you figure you'll work it out when the time comes. For now, you'll start boxing things up.

With a box beside you, your heart constricts as you reach for a stack of Spencer's books to be put away indefinitely. The empty shelf is reflective of the emptiness in your soul, and you're not sure if it'll ever fill back in. Truthfully, you don't know what could possibly mend the brokenness as your heart only has one desire.

You pack up two bookcases before you're unable to handle it anymore. With each empty shelf the reality sets in more and more; he's not coming back here. Your Spencer isn't going to knock on the door and come back to you. You turn your head to look at the door, not sure what you're expecting, but your eyes land on his coat that still hangs from the rack. It lost its signature Spencer scent about three years ago, but you don't have it in you to take it down, not yet at least.

You're keenly aware that eventually you'll have to pack up the stained tablecloth, Spencer's clothes that remain in the dressers, his favorite blanket, and give them away forever, never to be seen or touched by you again. Then all you'll have left of him are the memories, and after all this time some of them have already faded entirely. You're no longer able to remember many of the small moments shared together, you can't recall how his lips felt against your forehead as he bid you goodbye in the mornings before work. You fear that in another nine years you won't remember anything except his name and the moment he walked out of the door.

You fold the top of the box down and slide it across the room to join the others. When you return to the shelf to assess what size box you need next, your eyes land on a very specific book. It's one you had recommended to Spencer. You told him it was a compelling story and though it's not a literary classic, he should give it a try and broaden his horizons. Of course, it took you a week to finish it and it took him a casual afternoon.

The details of the book flood your mind and you realize why the disappearance of Mrs. Greene seemed so familiar. Your hands open the book and flip through the pages, finding exactly what you were looking for. In a frenzy, your eyes scan over the words and they grow wide with realization. Either this is one of the biggest delusions you've convinced yourself of, or you might just be onto something.

You reread the words over and over again, wrestling with yourself about whether this is worthy of submitting a tip. From the perspective of an investigator, it may seem absolutely ridiculous. I mean after all, you're using a piece of fiction to explain a real-life situation. But a small voice in the back of your head reminds you of something Spencer had said several times,

"Sometimes what seems like an insignificant detail ends up cracking the case."

Youwrestle with what to do, placing the book on the coffee table and pacing around, the television providing low background noise as your mind goes through different reasonings. You stop pacing around once you see a familiar blonde-haired woman on the screen, her FBI credentials hanging from her blazer pocket.

Sitting on the edge of the couch, you turn the volume up and listen to her intently. She announces that the BAU is actively working the case and that they hope to find Mrs. Greene soon. She also implores the public for any information. Your phone on the dining room table seems to call your name, and before you can think through what you're doing, the phone is ringing.

"What's up sweet thing?" Derek's voice greets you through the phone. You trust that even if your speculation is wildly ridiculous that he won't make fun of you. You explain to him your theory but he cuts you off in the middle of your sentence.

"Come by the office in the morning and explain it to the team. It might just be something." He asks, and you sigh.

"Derek I don't-" You begin making your excuse of why you can't go to their office, but he cuts you off for a second time.

"He won't be there, just come on by." Before you can get another word in, he hangs the phone up. It seems you have no choice, really.

Anxiety blooms within you, you haven't been to the BAU office in a decade. And the last time you were there was under much better and happier circumstances. But if Derek promised Spencer wouldn't be there, you figure it's worth going if your theory can help find Mrs. Greene. You just hope that the others don't bring him up in any capacity; you don't think you could handle hearing how happy he is with her while you suffer every single day without him.

-----

Nine years. It's been nine years today since Spencer left you. He stares up at the ceiling when his eyes open in the morning, heavy with sleep. There's an uncomfortable emptiness within him, fueled by his thoughts of what today signifies. He's sure the only thing he'll be able to do is replay that fateful night over and over again in his mind today, he's not sure how he's going to stay focused on the case.

Eventually, he gets himself out of bed and begins his morning routine. He buttons his shirt, puts a tie on, and shrugs a sweater overtop. Spencer stares at himself in the mirror, his reflection showing him the grim reality that is the dark circles under his eyes and his unkempt hair. His eyes trail down to see that his tie is crooked, and his fingers fix it; but he can never fix it like you used to.

Breakfasts don't seem to be as tasty as the ones you made, heading off to work without a goodbye kiss gives him no ambition for the day, and there's nothing to look forward to after he's off the clock for you aren't eagerly awaiting his return with a smile on your face. In the nine years that have passed, the vibrant world has devolved into grayscale.

The clock on the wall tells him he still has two hours before he's supposed to be in. Derek told him to take a few hours this morning, he knows how hard today was bound to be for Spencer, and he was right. But Spencer is restless, he knows if he stays in this apartment for another hour and a half that he's going to let his mind take him to sorrowful places; and that's sure to affect the team dynamic.

After three years, Derek had confronted Spencer. He said that while he understands the pain, that Spencer can't let it affect his job performance. And that if he did, there's a chance he'd have to be let go. So after that day, Spencer made an effort to keep up his appearances and performance. He couldn't bear to lose you and the job. If he lost the job then it means he left you for nothing. It had to be for something, for something good and meaningful.

Spencer ties his shoelaces and finds his messenger bag, slinging it over his shoulder. The team isn't expecting him for a while, but he's got nothing better to do and he doesn't want to be left alone with his thoughts any longer than he has to. And surely the team won't mind him coming in sooner than scheduled, besides there's just something about this case that seems so oddly familiar to him.

-----

The elevator door dings and you find yourself in front of familiar doors, the FBI logo cleanly shining on the glass doors into the BAU's office space. Readjusting the bag on your shoulder, you go to open the doors to find lots of agents buzzing about, carrying folders and talking to others. You're really just looking for one agent in particular, but you can't seem to find him. Feeling anxious about being here, you contemplate just turning around and going back home. As you go to make your quick escape, you hear Derek's voice behind you.

"There she is!" He says and you swear you can hear the smile on his face. His arm wraps around your shoulders, bringing you in for a brief hug. So much for your escape plan. You plaster the best smile that you can manage on your face and return his hug, his embrace is familiar and warm.

"Here I am." You say, nerves twisting your stomach around. Derek leads you through the craziness of the bullpen into a smaller room, where people are already waiting. You recognize the blonde from the TV, and you remember Garcia and Hotch, but you don't know who the dark haired lady is, nor the older man. But you're thankful that there's one missing agent from the table. Feeling like you're under heavy scrutiny, you give everyone a polite smile and wait for Derek to take the lead like you know he will.

After a few moments of silence, Derek claps his hands together to gain everyone's attention and then introduces you to the team. Once again, you give your politest smile and listen to Derek explain why you're here. The team all looks to you with interest, and you pull the book from the bag on your shoulder.

"So, I know this may sound silly, but I couldn't help but notice all the similarities, just from what I've gathered from the news. If you look where I put the bookmarks, you'll see what I mean." You tell them in rushed words, anxious to see their reactions, expecting ridicule.

"Gone Girl, huh?" The older man Derek introduced as Rossi questions, leaning in closer to the book to read the marked pages. You nod, chewing on your bottom lip as their eyes scan the pages.

"It is oddly similar. The picture frames on the mantle, the ottoman, the blood in the kitchen. I wonder if there are more similarities that we just haven't noticed." The dark-haired woman, Emily, speaks up first. Her words of interest makes it feel like a weight has been lifted from your shoulders, they're not going to ridicule you after all. In fact, it seems like they may be entertaining the idea.

While you're engrossed in the team's blooming discussion about what this might mean, you hadn't heard the door to the room open, and you hadn't noticed who stepped through that door. No, your attention is solely on the lively debate about what the team's next step should be. Emily thinks that this might be a path worth pursuing, but Rossi urges her to keep an open mind. It's not until the discussion has died down, and the team all thanks you for coming in, do you turn to leave. Immediately your eyes land on his tall frame, standing right in the doorway.

Spencer is standing right in front of you.

It feels like the air has been kicked out of your lungs, your limbs feel like they've turned to jelly. The blood in your veins turns to ice and you're frozen to the floor. Ringing sounds off in your ears, unable to hear anything around you. The only thing you can focus on is his honeyed eyes staring right back into yours. It's like the rest of the world has dissolved, and he is the only thing that remains.

In his eyes you can see your Spencer, you remember so clearly the first time his eyes met yours, and how you were enamored from the very beginning. The first time you laid eyes on him you felt your heart race and you just knew you had to go up to him and say something, or else you'd regret it. You remember how soft spoken and polite he was, and how he stumbled over his words when he asked you on your first date. His hazel eyes dazzled under the warm lights that night and you knew you were hooked. His eyes hold so many precious memories, and they all flash right after another in your mind, even the memories that had faded with time come back.

Derek's hand on your elbow knocks you out of your trance and you realize then that the whole team is staring at the two of you, but you don't care. You come back to your senses and look over Spencer, taking note of how his hair is longer, curlier, and how his tie is still crooked. He's even grown out his facial hair a little. He looks so much like the Spencer you knew but nothing alike at the same time. This Spencer looks tired, worn down, and just plainly miserable. It deeply pains you to see him in such a condition.

He licks his lips and opens his mouth to say something, but he stays silent. You see his hands clench beside him and your face flushes with heat, your eyes begin to sting, and you feel like it's becoming harder to breathe.

"Come on, I'll walk you out." Derek says into your ear and he gently tugs you towards the door, where your eyes stay locked onto Spencer as you follow Derek. Spencer takes a step to the side to let you and Derek out of the room, and your arm just barely brushes against his, sending a tingling feeling throughout your body. You feel a tear drip down your cheek, and you swear you can see tears in his eyes too.

Derek gets you down to the parking lot where your car awaits you and he opens the door for you and helps you in. He can tell that you're going through something. You haven't said a word, you have a far away look in your eye, and you're crying without bothering to wipe away the tears. It's almost like you're in shock, and in a way, you are.

"He wasn't supposed to be here for another hour, I'm sorry. If I had known I would've just come over or something." Derek apologizes, but you shake your head, slowly coming back to reality.

"It's not your fault, Derek. Maybe this was the universe's way of letting me say goodbye, get some closure." You speak, voice hoarse. Derek's eyebrows furrow together,

"What do you mean?" He asks, not understanding what your words imply. He'll never admit it to you, but he's concerned about how you're going to handle this run-in. From experience, he knows that you're likely to spiral after this, and that's the last thing he wants for you. After all the progress you've made lately and your personality finally beginning to come back, he fears this may cause a relapse of sorts.

"I'm moving to Colorado." You tell him for the first time. His mouth falls agape in surprise.

-----

After Derek comes back into the office from seeing you out, he can tell that the atmosphere has changed in the room. Glances are being thrown Spencer's way, and Spencer looks more pale than usual, like he had just seen a ghost. He's lost in his own mind, oblivious to the looks everyone is giving him.

"Let's head to the scene one more time to see if this theory holds up. Morgan, Reid, you can meet us there." Hotch announces and stands from the table, the rest of the team following closely behind. Once everyone has dispersed, Derek sits across from Spencer.

"You okay?" He asks, not knowing where Spencer is at mentally. His watery eyes glance from the tabletop to Derek, and he swallows hard.

"Today is the nine year anniversary of when I left." He says, and Derek's heart breaks for the two of you. Sure, it would've been hard on any given day for the two of you to see each other, but on a day with so much significance? It has to be gut wrenching. And to put the cherry on top, Derek knows the news he has to break to Spencer.

"Listen man. She told me something before she left and I think you should know." Derek's hand finds its way to Spencer's shoulder.

"What is it?" Spencer's mind is running through dozens of scenarios, trying to predict what you possibly could've said. Derek lips his lips and sighs,

"She told me she's moving to Colorado." Spencer feels as if the entire world has stopped spinning.

"What? When?" His voice is breathy and desperate. He has to know where you're going, when you're going, and why. He can't stand the thought of you being out there alone without being able to make sure you're okay. Derek's hand squeezes Spencer's shoulder, trying to comfort him.

"She said within the next few weeks, but she's got some loose ends to tie up here first." Spencer nods, understanding he still has some time to figure out how to approach this situation. He can't see anything clearly right now, for his mind is self-destructing from the thought of losing you for good.

"Maybe I can find a way to delay her trip somehow, or find out where she's going and set up some sort of periodic welfare check. Or maybe I set up a fake social media profile to follow her and make sure she's still okay." Spencer begins rattling off different ways he can make sure that you'll be okay if he can't be there. And he's well aware that his suggestions sound like borderline stalking, but he doesn't care, his love for you knows no boundaries and he would go to the ends of the Earth to make sure you're okay.

He needs to know that you are okay, no matter how many miles are put between the two of you. If he can't know that you're okay then he doesn't know what he's going to do; he even considers relocating to a field office out in Colorado just in case you need help.

"I've watched the two of you destroy yourselves over the past nine years. Neither of you have actually been able to recover, and you know it. She still thinks that you're with another woman. You're still in love with her, and now it's time to make your decision on whether you can let her go or not." Derek's voice speaks reason into Spencer's racing mind and he realizes that Derek is right. He's got a decision to make, and he has to make it soon.

-----

Rain patters against the window, providing some white noise for you while you tape the top of a box down. At this point, you've managed to pack up all of Spencer's books and every bookcase now sits barren. You swear the absence of his books causes the apartment to drop a few degrees, it feels empty and lifeless. You told the leasing agent that you would be by in the morning to drop off the paperwork, finally gaining the courage to sign them last night.

It had taken you about ten days after seeing Spencer before you could push yourself to sign them. A tiny part of you was still clinging to hope that he would come by. But he didn't. And he's not going to, you have to remind yourself. Constantly you have to remind yourself that you were able to see him one last time, and that's going to have to be enough closure, for it's all you're going to receive. But still, you can't help but feel the hole in your soul ache with desire for him.

Standing in the middle of an almost barren apartment, you're haunted by memories of happier days. You can remember the first time you and Spencer had walked through the front door, excited for your future together. Little by little, the two of you decorated and furnished the apartment to make it your own private haven where the two of you could seek refuge in each other.

Your hands find Spencer's blanket draped over the back of the couch, and you hold it close one last time, trying to commit the feeling to memory. It lost Spencer's scent long, long ago, but you still cherish it. After you've made peace with it, you fold it and place it in the bottom of a box, and go to the bedroom. Pulling out drawers of the dresser, Spencer's clothes are still neatly folded, just as he had left them. His clothes find their place on top of the blanket, and soon enough, the drawers are empty and more boxes are taped shut.

Evening comes around and you zip up a familiar dress, ready to spend one last night in a familiar restaurant. Today would've been your twelfth anniversary. Just like every year, you had made a very specific reservation, only this year will be the last. Applying mascara to your eyelashes, you give yourself one last look in the mirror. You can still see the young woman you once were in your reflection.

Your phone buzzing on the counter tears your gaze away from the mirror. You see that Derek is trying to call you, and so you pick up without a second thought.

"Hey sweet thing, what are you doing tonight? How about you come over and we have a farewell drink?" He offers and you smile at his generosity, knowing that any other day you would've taken him up on it.

"Sorry Derek, I can't tonight. I've got a reservation." You tell him, knowing that he will understand what you mean. He doesn't keep track of the days like you do, but he's familiar with your annual tradition.

"Okay, another night then, enjoy yourself." His voice is warm as he hangs up the phone. You're grateful that Derek has been a reliable friend throughout the years, and you know you're going to miss him when you move. Of course you'll make the effort to stay in contact, it just won't be the same as having him nearby.

The waitress shows you to your seat and you order the same wine you get every year. It doesn't matter if your tastes have changed, that's not the point. By now the rain is coming down harder, and you can't help but wonder if the Earth is mourning the end of things like you are. Your lipstick leaves faint marks around the rim of the glass and you stare at the empty chair in front of you.

Each year, you try your best to remember what it was like when Spencer was here, but each year your memory becomes more and more hazy on the details. Until one year you couldn't even remember what color tie he was wearing. Instead, all you can recall is the way he made you feel. You intend to drag this dinner out as long as you possibly can, knowing once you leave here that it's just one more piece of Spencer you've had to say farewell to for the final time.

There's a couple sitting at the table next to you, sharing smiles and clinking their glasses together. You try not to stare, but they remind you so much of who you used to be. The woman's eyes have a hopeful spark in them, hopelessly in love with the man who sits across from her who is obviously just as in love with her. When the waitress comes around to ask if you need anything else, you ask if you can pay for their tab.

An hour later, you're swirling around the remnants of wine in your glass. You had finished dinner and consumed enough wine for the night, so now you're just stalling. You can't yet pry yourself up from this spot, still clinging dearly to this part of Spencer you still have. Once you stand up, it'll make this reality all too real, and you can't face it quite yet. So you give yourself a few more minutes to mourn the way you need to and to make your peace here.

You hear the front door open, but your sights are set outside the window, watching the rain pelt the sidewalk. There's some sort of rushed conversation happening by the hostess' stand, but you can't make out the words, not that you're trying to anyways. The couple that you paid for gets up and leaves the restaurant, and that gains your attention. You offer them a weak smile as they giddily exit the restaurant; their happiness only emphasizes your sorrows.

Before you can turn back to resume watching the rain, someone stands in front of you. Your eyes trail up the person's body, only to find Spencer in front of you, hair wet from the rain, hands occupied with a bouquet of pastel-colored tulips. Your heart drops into your stomach and you have to blink a few times to make sure that he's actually real and standing right in front of you.

"Spencer." His name falls from your mouth effortlessly and breathily, shocked to see him here. He licks his lips and looks over you once before meeting your eyes, a familiar look within them.

-----

Spencer paces around his apartment, hair disheveled from raking nervous fingers through it. His mind has been consumed with nothing except for you since he saw you at the BAU. Derek's words keep repeating themselves in his head,

"She still thinks that you're with another woman...make your decision on whether you can let her go or not."

He knows his time is running out and yet he's conflicted as to what is the right thing to do. The logical and rational part of him is quick to remind himself that he left for a reason, for your safety. The photographs in the unsub's room flash before his eyes, vividly reminding him of what kind of danger his presence puts you in.

But the aching in his chest yearns for your touch, to hear your laugh. For years he's been able to make sure that you're taken care of from a distance. Some years he would anonymously send tulips to your apartment, and other times he would pay the leasing agent half of your rent so it would be one less thing for you to worry about. Of course, it had taken some convincing to ensure the agent would keep his donations a secret, and as far as he knows the agent kept good on the agreement.

Nervously, Spencer bites the skin around his nails, a battle of reason and emotion waging itself inside his mind. He turns to pace again, but this time his eyes catch a picture that sits on a side table. It's a small photo, taken in the early days of your relationship. Spencer picks up the picture that he's committed to memory, seeing the bright smile on your face, your eyes wrinkles at the sides from happiness, his lips pressed to your cheek and his arms around your waist.

His mind morphs his own body into another man. And now he's seeing that man's arms around your waist, another man's lips on your cheek, and it's almost enough to bring Spencer to his knees. Abandoning the photo, he moves quickly to put his shoes on with newfound purpose.

He's made his decision.

With rushed movements, Spencer makes his way to the florist he frequents for your flowers. It's a race against the clock, he only has five minutes to spare and he hopes that the florist is still there. The rain makes it hard to see the road, it slows traffic and the anxiety bubbles up in his chest.

With one minute to spare, Spencer enters the florist to see the sweet older lady packing up for the day. His entrance startles her, and she jumps.

"Spencer?" She questions, knowing he's not due back for another month at least. He nods his head frantically,

"Yes ma'am, sorry to come by like this but I'm hoping you can help me." He swallows hard, heart pounding in his chest from the adrenaline flowing in his veins. The woman sees his distraught demeanor and gives him a small smile. Of course she'll help him. After all, Spencer is one of her favorite customers; he always leaves her generous tips.

After fifteen minutes, the florist has constructed a beautiful arrangement with all of your favorite colors, tied up with a bow around the stems.

"Good luck." The florist gives him a knowing smile, and he thanks her before rushing over to your apartment. Spencer's fingers tap anxiously on the steering wheel and his chest heaves with nervousness.

He parks his car along the curb and hops out, practically running into the building. There's a small line for the elevators, and he doesn't have time for that. Not when a lifetime with you is at stake. He takes the stairs at record speed and takes a moment to compose himself once he stands at the door.

With a rush of courage, he knocks on the door and waits to hear your footsteps. But instead he's met with silence. He knocks again, a little harder this time and waits. He's met with silence again. Fearing the worst, he digs his phone out of his pocket and calls Derek, who answers on the third ring.

"Listen she isn't here. I'm at the apartment and she's gone. Did she leave already?" Spencer's voice cracks as he asks the dreaded question, but he needs to know. If Derek tells him that you've left, he won't hesitate to take the first flight to Colorado to find you.

"No, she didn't move yet. I called her earlier, she has a reservation. Remember the restaurant you two went to for your first date?" Spencer rushes out a thank you before hanging up, knowing exactly the restaurant. How could he forget?

You were wearing the most beautiful dress that complimented your body well, your hair was loose around your shoulders, and your eyes held the depths of your love. He knew from that exact moment that he would never find a love like yours again.

He parks and haphazardly shoves his keys into his pockets, instead taking care to handle your flowers with the utmost care. His heart thumps heavily in his chest with each step he takes towards the front door.

He runs a hand through his hair as he approaches the hostess stand, and his words come out very rushed. He asks if there's a woman here matching your description, but the hostess is hesitant to answer. He begs her to tell him, insisting that you'll be here waiting for him. The hostess glances between him and the flowers in his hand before nodding and pointing to where you are.

Spencer swallows hard and thanks her, eyes scanning the dimly lit restaurant for you. A couple laughing gains his attention and he can't help but look. And he's thankful he did, for you're sitting right across from them, a sad smile on your face and sorrow in your eyes.

His feet carry him over to you before he can process what he's doing. As if time moves in slow motion, he watches your eyes move up his body before landing on his face. Your eyes grow wide, your jaw goes slack.

He only hopes that you'll listen to what he has to say.

-----

"What are you doing here?" You ask, eyeballing the flowers in his hand; they're oddly reminiscent of the ones you receive on your doorstep every few months.

Of course, he's probably here to meet his girlfriend, or fiancée, or perhaps even wife. A mixture of nausea and confusion hit you like a brick wall but you try your best to maintain your composure while you feel like your insides are melting. Spencer takes a deep breath, his eyes never leaving yours and he finally speaks to you.

"Without you and your love, your touch, your warmth, life is entirely meaningless. Ever since I made the biggest mistake of my life, every day has been like walking through hell. There hasn't been a single day that's gone by that I didn't wish to have you back in my arms or to spend just one more evening with you. And I know this doesn't make up for any of it and I am undeserving of your forgiveness. But, I couldn't let you go without letting you know that I've never stopped loving you." His voice cracks with his confession, and a lone tear rolls down his cheek.

His words sends chills down your spine. What he said just doesn't make any sense. Hadn't he left for someone else? Or perhaps he did and he left her as well, or maybe they're still together and he's just doing this to break your heart one last time. You're conflicted with what you should be thinking and feeling. You had waited for this day for nine years, and now that it's here it doesn't make sense.

"But what about her?" You finally muster up the courage to ask, knowing very well that his answer could break your heart. Spencer shakes his head,

"There was never anyone else." His words sting. Had he left because he fell out of love? Or perhaps he grew bored of you and used a newfound love as an excuse for an easy departure.

The more he speaks, the less you understand. Your eyebrows draw close together in pure confusion, your head shakes and your eyes move from him to the flowers in his hand, another mystery about this situation.

"But you said that you had fallen in love with someone else." You point out, desperately needing some explanation to all of this. Spencer nods his head with a solemn expression.

Instead of answering, he digs some cash out of his pocket and throws it on the table before extending his hand to you, to help you from your seat. The gesture sends your heart soaring, having missed the simplest of touches from him. And no matter how confused you are, you've missed him too much to pass this up. He helps you out of the seat and guides you to the front door with a hand on the small of your back.

A familiar fire within you blooms, one that could only be ignited by Spencer's touch. And with just the slightest contact with him, you feel your frozen heart begin to warm.

Thankfully it appears the rain has stopped, for now at least. The two of you walk slowly beside one another towards the parking lot, something that was once so familiar seems so foreign now. After a few steps you hear Spencer suck in a breath,

"I owe you an explanation." His voice is even, but you can hear his apprehension. You swallow your nerves and agree, wanting to hear every last word he has to say.

-----

By the time you both arrive at the apartment, the sun has fully set and the wind carries a bitter chill with it, piercing through the fabric of your dress. The tension is palpable between the two of you on the elevator ride up, your arms brushing against each other with every little movement.

Your hands tremble as you unlock the door, nervous about being so close to him and what he may tell you. The two of you step through the door and for the first time you see how empty it is, boxes stacked on top of each other throughout the apartment.

Turning around, you watch as Spencer takes in the scene of what his former home now is. Guilt washes over you, but you stay quiet, unsure of what to say. Once he's taken in the apartment, his full attention turns back towards you, his eyes flickering between you and the flowers.

"These are for you." His voice is soft as he hands the flowers to you. You take them, fingers brushing against his as you do.

"Did you- were you the one sending me flowers?" You see the familiar color combinations and arrangement style as the ones you've received off and on for nine years. You had never expected Spencer was the one sending these to you, you had always assumed it was Derek trying to brighten your day. And you had always wondered how Derek knew what your favorite flowers were, but you chalked it up to his profiling skills.

A smile small appears on Spencer's face and he nods. Your heart swells with emotion as it hits you that maybe some of what he said is true, maybe he never has stopped loving you. Not prepared to face all of that just yet, you turn and find a vase to put the flowers in, thankful you hadn't packed them up yet and let them decorate the kitchen counter.

Silence washes over the two of you, but it's short lived as Spencer clears his throat and pulls out a chair at the dining room table. You join him and your blood runs cold as you realize you're sitting in the same places as that day he left. Spencer starts picking at the skin around his nails, opening and closing his mouth as if he can't find the words he's looking for. But you've waited nine years so what's a few more minutes?

"The case I came back from was one of the worst we've ever seen, even to this day." He starts and you nod, leaning forward to soak in every word.

"The unsub had printed out pictures of you hanging from his walls along with the rest of the team. He had a plan to torture each and every one of us, and he was going to use you to hurt me. He had plans to torture you to death." He continues, voice wavering towards the end. Your eyes are glued to Spencer's face as he speaks, never having heard the details of that last case. Derek would never tell you.

"Oh, Spencer." You whisper, wanting so desperately to reach out and comfort him but respecting that he might not want your touch. His eyes glance up to yours, and you see his jaw tense.

"I knew then that my job puts you in too much danger. It was clear that while you were with me that you could be a target for anyone who wanted to get back at us. I couldn't let that happen, I couldn't let someone hurt you because of me." Tears spill down his face and he bites his bottom lip to try and keep his composure. You feel your own lip start to quiver, but you hold it together.

"And I knew if I told you that there was someone else that you wouldn't push the issue. I knew you loved me too much to interfere with my happiness. I used your own love against you and I am so sorry." He sniffles and pushes tears from his eyes.

The two of you cry together, and while you want to be angry because he had lied, you only find yourself feeling overjoyed that he's back; that he wants you back and never fell in love with another. And now knowing that he was still showing his love for you by sending you flowers solidifies that what he's telling you is factual. You only wonder what else he's done that you're unaware of.

Spencer's love runs deep, that much you do know. You're keenly aware that if he went through the trouble of sending you flowers that he was also likely up to other things. But you're okay not knowing, as far as you're concerned, you're just happy he's here.

"I'm so sorry." He cries out again, moving out of his chair and getting on his knees in front of you. You wipe tears from your eyes so you can see him clearly, his glistening eyes beautifully reflecting the light as he envelopes your hands in his.

"I will spend every second of every day earning your love back if that's what it takes. I cannot bear to live this life without you any more, I will do whatever it takes. I love you with every fiber of my being, and I will love you for as many days as there are stars in the sky. As long as the sun rises in the morning and sets every night I will continue to love you. You're the one that completes my soul, you're the one who my heart beats for." Spencer pours his heart out to you as he grips your hands tightly and looks into the depths of your eyes. Your lip trembles as tears continue to stream down your face, unable to contain your overflowing love for the man who kneels in front of you.

Taking your hands back from his, your fingertips graze the soft skin of his cheeks. The familiar warmth brings a smile to your face, one that you never would have thought would come back. You hold the sides of his face, so that you can look at him, really look at him.

His parted lips are wet from tears, his face blushed from crying. Even while he cries on the floor in front of you, he's still the most beautiful man you've ever seen. Unable to hold yourself back, you bring his face to yours and your lips reunite.

It's like the two of you were made for each other, and feeling his lips on yours is like falling back into a familiar rhythm. Spencer stands from the floor and brings you up from your seat, one of his hands wrapping around your waist while the other holds your cheek, bringing you impossibly closer to him.

Your frozen heart warms with a heat long forgotten, and when your lungs burn for air, you pull away and rest your forehead against his. The two of you catch your breath, each unable to keep your hands off of one another. Your eyes meet and you can see the love he holds for you plainly.

This is your Spencer, and he finally came back home. After all these years he finally came back to the place where he left you, the place you had stayed.

-----

"Is that the last one?" You ask, placing books neatly on a shelf. It was a no-brainer that after Spencer came back that you weren't going to move. With him here, there's no place you'd rather be. And so after you had halted your plans, you and Spencer began repiecing your life together.

Turns out, a lot happens in nine years and the two of you spend every moment possible catching up on lost time together. He tells you about some of the most memorable cases, and you tell him about how you made it through in one piece. You both agreed not to spare each other any details, and have agreed to work through whatever issues arise one step at a time and with honesty. And you made Spencer promise that no matter what happens at work, that the two of you will talk and plan together; there's no more running, except for towards each other.

"I think there's one more." He says, showing you the book in his hand before he slides it in the open spot on the shelf. It's the copy of Gone Girl that you had brought into the BAU. Spencer had told you that your theory ended up being right. They found Mrs. Greene as she was staging her alleged kidnapping getaway. And while it wasn't your favorite book, it has a special place in your heart now; without it there's a chance you and Spencer never would have crossed paths again.

You feel Spencer's hands wrap around your waist from behind as he comes back from the shelf, and he hugs you tightly against him, burying his head in the curve of your neck and gently kissing you. Showing affection at every given opportunity has been Spencer's modus operandi. After having lived so long without you, he never wants to stop touching you, or kissing you, or showing you love in any way that he can.

Your eyes flutter shut, soaking in all the love he gives you, placing your hands atop of his and just letting yourself be held by him. Even the smallest moments are cherished now, for you understand their true value.

"I love you." He whispers into your ear before letting you go, and a smile makes its way onto your face while your cheeks heat. Even after nine years he's still able to make you blush like a highschooler with a crush.

"And I love you more." You say, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek before moving to pack up the empty boxes that are scattered everywhere.

The two of you stand in the front doorway of your apartment, looking at how everything has come together. Spencer's books are back on their shelves, his blanket is draped over the back of the couch, his clothes back in the dresser, and he's right beside of you. Like it should have always been. Your eyes find one last thing to get rid of alongside the boxes.

Walking over to the dining room table, you rip the stained tablecloth off and crumple it in your hands. This tablecloth holds too many bad, heartbreaking memories to keep it in the place where you two are rebuilding your lives together. Without a second thought, you toss the tablecloth into the trash and you're relieved. Only a short time ago you dreaded the thought of getting rid of it, but now you can't stand the thought of keeping it.

Now it's as if a new light and a fresh breath of life has been given to the apartment. For so long it was representative of all that you had lost, but now it shows you how much you've gained and how far you've come, both of you. Rays of bright sunshine filter in through the sheer curtains, and you take in a deep breath, soul full, content, and at peace.

"We really did it." You breathe out quietly.

"There's only one more thing I can think of that would really make this all come together." Spencer speaks up, and you scrunch your eyebrows together, not seeing anything that you two had forgotten. As you turn to him, you see him kneeling down in front of you on one knee, a small velvet box in his hand.

Your mouth falls open as he opens the box, revealing the most perfect ring you've ever seen. Spencer has a wide smile on his face and a hopeful glint in his eyes.

"My life will never be complete without you by my side, there's nobody on this Earth that can even begin to compare. When I look inside my heart, I can only see you. May I have the honor to take your hand in marriage, will you make me the luckiest man in the world and marry me?" He asks and you nod your head enthusiastically before he can finish the question. Rushing up from the ground, Spencer envelopes you in a hug, lifting your feet off the ground and spinning you around.

As your feet make contact with the ground again, he takes your hand and slides the ring onto your finger. It's a perfect fit. Tears of elation well up in your eyes, and you pull Spencer in for a kiss that's full of love, desire, and passion for him. You both smile into the kiss and only break away to confess your undying love for each other.

"Spencer Reid, you are the love of my life." You say with tears of happiness rolling down your cheek, a wide smile on your face.

"And future Mrs. Reid, you are the reason I wake up every morning, you are the breath in my lungs, and you are the love of my life." He brings you in for another kiss, and you know that you're going to spend every day for the rest of your lives together. No force of man, nor nature, can drive you apart for the love shared between you two runs deep, your souls intertwined with one another for the rest of eternity.

Looking down at the shiny gemstone on your finger, you feel the once fragmented pieces of your heart tie themselves back together, the million pieces seemingly repairable after all. With a smile on your face, you can't wait to marry your soulmate and you're hopeful and grateful for the life you will share together.

- -

Taglist: @spenciesprincess @reedmurdock

#spencer reid #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #derek morgan #dr spencer reid #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid oneshot #taylor swift #taylor swift inspired

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loveisanimaginarydagger3000 · 8 months

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Master List

This page is geared towards an 18+ Audience. Please read through any warnings at the start of fics as they are there for a reason.

My Ao3 Account- LoveIsAnImaginaryDagger

My Wattpad Account- LovePersevering2

Who I write for: Wanda Maximoff, Natasha Romanoff, other Marvel Women

What I will write: Smut, fluff, angst, g!p, au

Wanda Maximoff

Oneshots (All 18+)

New Neighbours- After meeting a beautiful woman in a store, you soon discover that she's your neighbour and she's single.

Devil In Disguise- Wanda isn't as innocent as everyone thinks she is.

Break Me- Wanda needs you to be rough with her and give her exactly what she wants.

Detention- Your Professor keeps you behind after class as you were distracted.

Take Control Of Me- You ask Wanda to use you as she wishes.

Are You Interested? - "I'm very attracted to you, would you be interested in having an affair?"

Heatwave Fun- You and your girlfriend find a way to cool down during a heatwave.

Dirty Thoughts- While babysitting the twins, Wanda is left to listen to all the sinful thoughts of the older woman flickering through your mind.

Listen To Mommy- Your Mommy teaches you a lesson after being a brat.

Focus- Wanda tests how well you can concentrate while her hands roam your body.

Can't I?- "You can't control me the way you do them." "Can't I?"

Teach Me- After tutoring the twins, their mother decides to give you your own personal lesson.

Touch Me- You beg Wanda to give you what you desperately want.

Protective Girlfriend- Wanda gets worried when you hurt yourself in training. You find a way to convince her that you're perfectly fine.

Boyfriend- Inspired by the song by Dove Cameron

Please...- An affair that turns into more.

So Wrong- How can something so wrong feel so right?

We're Going To Get Along Just Fine- You go home with a mysterious woman from the bar.

Attention (G!P Reader) - You're girlfriend thinks you're spending too much time focussing on work so you give her the attention she wants.

A Workout To Remember (G!P Reader)- Your Gym crush makes a move on you.

Trick Or Treat (G!P Reader)- Loosely inspired by WV ep6 and the phrase trick or treat.

Lingerie (G!P Reader)- Wanda surprises you in a new lace set.

Series (All 18+)

The Babysitter (WIP- Currently 144k words)- In need of money and a way to escape the problems at home, you get a job babysitting two lovely boys named Billy and Tommy Maximoff. What happens when you start to feel things you shouldn't for their mother? Will it bloom into love or leave you heartbroken?

Secrets (Completed- 23k words)- DARK FIC- "Do you swear on your life?" She lets her fingers trail up your arm, moving to your drag along the side of your neck and your jaw before resting on your chin, holding your face to look at her.

"I swear on my life," you whisper, unable to look away from her.

"Would you be interested in having an affair?"

This fic also includes relationship with Natasha Romanoff in which the reader is not faithful in.

Enemies With Benefits (Completed- 16k Words)- You hated her. She hated you. It was just sex. Nothing could possibly go wrong, right?

Miss Maximoff (Completed- 8k) - After strange circumstances, you find yourself falling for the married woman next door.

I Don't Hate You- After going too far in training, Steve makes you check up on Wanda. Upon hearing a groan, panic fills you before you hear your name falling off her lips in a desperate moan. Oh.

Natasha Romanoff

One Shots

I Wanted You- "We tried so hard not to be torn apart. But at the end of it all, we both wanted something different...I wanted you. And you...you didn't want them to know."

Daddy Issues- TW for Abuse. Inspired by the song Daddy Issues by the Neighbourhood

Warm Us Up (18+)- After your reluctance to work together causes you to be stranded in a safehouse, You come up with an idea on how to stop the two of you freezing to death.

Series (All 18+)

The Soldier Of Death (WIP- Currently 32k words) Warning of graphic depictions of violence. - Soldat Smerti. The Soldier of Death. You were the perfect weapon: loyal, obedient, and merciless, or so Hydra thought. What happens when these traits are put to the test? Your captivity in the Avenger's tower and the presence of a redhead makes you realise you didn't have to be a monster. The question was though; Did Hydra make you the monster or were you always one?

Secrets (Completed- 23k) Dark Fic- Same fic as the one mentioned in the Wanda Series section.

Love Is For Children (Completed 43k) - "You love her, don't you?" "Loved. I loved her."

Bad Idea (Completed 4.7k) - A friends with benefits story that turns into lovers.

You Need Me- Natasha should hate you. You're the enemy. But she can't lie and say you were wrong. She did need you.

Miss Romanoff- What happens when the mysterious woman you went home with turned out to be your new professor...

Wanda And Natasha X Reader

Should Have Knocked- You accidentally walk in on Wanda and Nat in a compromising position. What you didn't expect was for them to ask you to join them.

The Devil And An Angel- Your girlfriends tempt you to sin.

Alone In The Compound- Thinking you were alone, you and Wanda take advantage of the emptiness of the compound. What you didn't expect was for the Black Widow to walk in on you two.

More posts with links to be added soon, all of posts are on my other accounts so check them out if you want to read them before I post them on here :)

#masterlist #wanda maximoff #mommy wanda #wanda x reader #wanda x you #wanda maximoff x female reader #natasha romanoff #natasha x reader #natasha x you #black widow #black widow x reader #marvel fanfiction #marvel fanfic writer #mcu fanfiction

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dilvuc · 6 months

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『 WHEN YOU GET JEALOUS 』 pt. 2

𝖌𝖊𝖓𝖗𝖊: fluff

𝖌𝖊𝖓𝖉𝖊𝖗: gender neutral

𝖙𝖎𝖙𝖑𝖊: when you get jealous pt.

𝖕𝖆𝖗𝖎𝖓𝖌: dorm leaders x gn!reader

𝖜𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌: none

𝖘𝖚𝖒𝖒𝖆𝖗𝖞: when you get jealous

╰┈➤ when you get jealous pt. 1

╰┈➤ VIL

dating isn't easy, not when you're dating a model and actor with 5m followers on magicam. it made you so jealous. not jealous of vil, but the fans who tried to grab his attention. you had been scrolling through the comments and it was filled with love and support from fans, plus comments that are…different.

you are now a bodyguard…

“Aww, these fans are too kind.” vil chuckled bashfully. “It's nice of them to bring me gifts.”

“Too many gifts. You don't know if it's from fans…” you mumbled with your arms folded. you are cautiously sure that it might be some creepy photos of vil or some dangerous objects. vil sighed, “You're overthinking it. It might be some wholesome gifts.”

you prepared your magic pen, waiting for something dangerous to happen as vil opened the box. the box opened to reveal a teddy bear with a bowtie. suspicious…

“So cute~” the beautiful blonde beamed, pulling the bear from the box. you sighed, “You should check to see if there aren't any cameras inside of it.”

“...Fine, whatever. You're either jealous or just overprotective. Perhaps both.” vil huffed, turning the teddy’s back to face him.

it turned out there weren't any cameras inside, just cotton. yeah, you did that on purpose to get vil to ruin the teddy bear because you were jealous and now you are forced to fix it.

╰┈➤ IDIA

jealous. you're jealous of the mega plush you win for idia on his birthday. what's the point of being jealous of a object? boy, the ignihyde dorm leader was clinging on the plush, happily snuggling with it. the plush was precious to him. almost too precious. that plush needs to back off, because

idia belongs to you…

“Say, Idia. How much do you love the plush?” you asked, holding back your jealousy.

“W-well, it's a gift from you, so…I thought it's precious to me. It made me think of you” idia timidly smiled, holding the plush close. you felt a strike in your heart, you're gonna have a heart attack.

“Damnit. My heart…” you clenched on your heart.

“P-please hang in there, [Y]!” idia sweatdropped. you knee down on the floor, already feeling defeated. you shouldn't be jealous of a plush. if it makes idia happy, then it's fine.

the dorm leader knew you were jealous, so he decided to put the plush to the side and demanded a cuddle from you. you were overjoyed that you nearly collapsed.

╰┈➤ MALLEUS

you're not too overprotective like sebek, right? but worse. you did vow hundred years ago that you will protect malleus and there you go, jealous. jealous of the mc. lilia knows you vow to protect him, but…

aren't you being a little too overprotective?

"[Y], dear…Please stop glaring at them." malleus demanded you. you stop glaring as malleus’ command and look away. but when he's not looking, you continue the death stare. “[y]...”

you flinched a little, “Yes…?”

“If you won't stop, I won't forgive you…” malleus scolded you with a pout. you instantly apologized, “Sorry…!”

you rather die than seeing malleus angry at you. although, his pouty face is cute.

╰┈➤ author note: please note that this is a slow update. i will still accept your request, but it will take a while since i'll be working on my books on wattpad. if you wish to read those books, here's my wattpad account.

twst masterlist

rules

#male reader #gender neutral reader #twisted wonderland x reader #disney twst #twst #twisted wonderland #vil schoenheit #idia shroud #malleus draconia

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randomshyperson · 1 year

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Like Real People Do - Milf!Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Summary: Wanda Maximoff is known to be a strict mother - the opposite of you. When a school incident involves your children, you two will need to learn to get along with each other. [Requested]

Warnings: General Fluff, attempted romantic comedy with opposites attract, mild making out at the end, milf wanda being adorable, brief angst for past relationships, found family. | Words: 5.733k

A/N-> My first fic of the year will be Milf!Wanda without smut? What happened to this blog, huh? I was so busy in December that I couldn't post anything, I hope you guys didn't forget about me. This is a very old request that I finished some time ago and never posted, here it is then. Good reading you all!

General Masterlist || AO3 || Wattpad

--//--

It started with a bloody nose.

It was Wednesday, which meant that you had painting class from ten to eleven in the morning, so when your cell phone rang and Principal Fury's angry voice demanded you not to be late, you could barely think of a decent excuse for your students.

The way to the municipal school was quick and even perilous - you never learned how to drive Natasha's truck properly no matter how hard you tried - but you arrived quickly at least.

America was standing with her arms crossed at the door to the principal's office - the jeans jacket with buttons you took her to buy last year had a bloodstain on the front that made your heart miss a beat.

"Mom!" Her sulky expression lit up the second she saw you - the girl uncrossed her arms and ran to catch up with you, talking too fast about the mess while you searched her face for bruises. You sighed in relief at not finding any.

"Honey, slow down, I'm not catching any words." You warn her gently, and America giggles awkwardly, taking a deep breath to speak again.

"It wasn't my fault, Mom! It was those idiots who came at us, Billy wasn't doing anything, and when they called him bad names and I just lost my temper and-"

You frown in confusion, but America shuts up because the boardroom door opens and other people come out.

The blood is not America's you realize. It's the boy with ice on his face, accompanied by an equally grumpy adult. The boy also has blood all over the front of his shirt, and from the way, America tenses up and he flinches, you understand that he has been beaten.

"Come on, don't give me any more trouble." Warned the man to the boy who practically ran out. The man waved goodbye politely, and you turned to America, ready to ask, but you heard Mr.Fury call your name.

The room was not empty. There were two boys and a woman in a suit so impeccable that you became very aware of the ink stains on your work overalls. Or maybe it was the way she looked you up and down, with an indecipherable expression.

"Mrs.Romanoff, how nice that you could join us at last." Fury pinned on your lateness, and you smiled awkwardly.

"Sorry, I was in class and my cell phone was off." You mumbled, but he didn't seem to care much, signaling for you to sit down.

America stood beside you but smiled at the boys, who smiled back immediately.

"As I explained to Mrs.Maximoff, something rather unpleasant happened this morning. Your children got into a fight with another group of classmates..."

"And where is the rest of the gang?" You asked curiously, looking around. Fury frowned.

"Excuse me?"

"Well, you said they got into a fight. Nobody fights alone. Where are the other children? I saw the other little boy who went outside looking like he got punched right in the nose, and if you told me it was three against one, then yes, we have a problem."

Fury exchanges a look with Mrs.Maximoff, but the redhead is straightening up in her chair, looking at you curiously.

The principal lets out a short laugh. "Miss Romanoff, the confusion started at recess, where America assaulted five classmates. The other four are in the infirmary and-"

You cut Fury off with excitement, turning to your daughter beside you. "Five? Kid, you've been practicing, haven't you? Damn, your mother would be impressed. "

America laughs shyly, but Fury exclaims indignantly. "Excuse me, Mrs.Romanoff, are you really encouraging violent behavior in your 13-year-old daughter?"

"It depends on what the fight is about." You mutter, but Fury sighs indignantly.

"Violence is never the answer!" Retorts the principal seriously, but his line makes the boys exclaim indignantly.

"They were the ones who attacked us first! America was only defending my brother!" Reported one of them, and you and Mrs.Maximoff exchanged quick glances at the confusion.

"That's right, we were just standing there, and those idiots came at us with curses! If it wasn't for America-"

"Quiet, all of you!" Fury cut in angrily, and the children grumbled but obeyed. He massaged his forehead. "It's clear that the fight started with America, so please could you tell me exactly why you assaulted your colleagues, Miss?"

But America hesitates and looks at the boys, who bow their heads. She sighs.

"It was something silly about grades." She lies - You can see it’s not true because whenever she tells a lie, her forehead frowns slightly and Natasha taught you to recognize everything about little Miss Chavez. You don’t understand why she’s lying though.

Fury sighs wearily. "Are you sure that's all it was, miss?"

She looks down at the floor and nods. You lick your lips.

"Fury, I wonder if we could talk alone. Just me, Miss Maximoff, and you? They shouldn't be missing class."

Fury hesitates but eventually agrees. Once the children leave, you clear your throat.

"I want to know what will be done with the group that attacked them, Fury." You state without waiting any longer, surprising a little. Nick clears his throat.

"Your daughter just clarified that it was a silly argument over notes, Miss Romanoff, you don't expect me to-"

"You know it wasn't just that." To his surprise, Wanda intervenes, sounding irritated and tired. She takes a deep breath. "It wouldn't be the first time Billy experienced bullying in his school environment, but you promised me that this school was a safe space when I came to enroll them, Mr.Fury."

Nick clears his throat clumsily, adjusting his tie. "Mrs.Maximoff, at no time-"

"America told me they insulted him." You cut in, exchanging a look with the redhead. "The kids who attacked them came in cursing Billy. That's unacceptable, Fury. You say I encourage violent behavior? No. Natasha and I taught America to stand up for herself and for the people important to her. Nat was in the military and taught her how to fight. You can't expect her to listen to someone use low insults with her friends and do nothing."

"You cannot teach your daughter to punch anyone who irritates her, Miss Romanoff." Fury retorts seriously, before turning his face to the other, "And this is a safe environment, Wanda. We have anti-bullying programs, and when the other boys leave the infirmary, they will answer for this event as well. But for now, it's your kids who need to understand that fighting doesn't go unpunished."

"That doesn't seem very fair." You mutter but Fury casts you a serious look.

"Because they insulted them? Tell me what happens when they're adults, then." You open your mouth but Fury holds up his hand, rhetorical question. "I tell you, at the very least a lawsuit for assault. I understand it's important to tell them to defend themselves, but they also need to understand how the world works. They are children, by god. You can't tell them to go out punching their way whenever someone wrongs them."

"I guess that's easy to say when we're not the ones experiencing the aggression." Wanda mutters, and Fury gives a short laugh.

"Wanda, I assure you I know the feeling of hearing horrible offenses and having to put my head down and keep walking because the punishments would be worse for me than for those who offended me." Says Nick. "Billy is only twelve, he should learn to respond to things like that in a healthy and safe way. Teaching any of these kids to respond violence with violence puts them at risk, and I'm sure you understand that." Wanda sighs but nods in defeat. Nick clears his throat. "I believe detention for a month is a good punishment."

You sigh, but Wanda hesitates. "They'd be out by three, wouldn't they? Couldn't you do it earlier or between classes? I work office hours on Tuesdays and Wednesdays..."

Nick opens his mouth but you speak first. "I can pick them up." You say casually. "They're friends with America, right? They can stay over if you need."

The redhead blinks in surprise. "Wouldn't that be inconvenient?"

You laugh shrugging your shoulders. "Not at all. America is usually alone in the afternoon while I'm in the studio. It would be nice if she had some company."

Wanda smiles at you and your stomach does a complete turn. Nick claps his hands together.

"I guess we have a deal then. Thank you both for attending, even though it was not the most pleasant of reasons... I'll keep in touch, Miss Maximoff, Miss Romanoff."

You got up first but opened the door for Wanda to pass. Outside, she seemed in a hurry, checking her cell phone, and you didn't want to hold her any longer. Surprisingly, she called you before you left for your car.

"I want your number." She declares, and you can't help the teasing expression that appears on your face. Wanda corrects herself immediately, "B-because of the ride, so I can confirm that everything is okay..."

"I know, I get it." You assure her with a laugh, accepting the cell phone she holds out to put your number in. As you type, you take the opportunity to introduce yourself properly since you haven't had the chance to do so before. Wanda smiles before doing the same. "Here you go, Miss Maximoff."

"Just Wanda is fine." She says gently, accepting the cell phone back. "Thank you again, for the favor."

"You can return it by joining me for coffee." You have no idea where that came from. And it seems to surprise Wanda as much as you surprised yourself. But there's no going back because she smiles and you know you meant it. "Or a tea, or juice. Maybe vitamin?"

Wanda giggles, and it's a charm. You glare at her but she looks at her cell phone again.

"Sorry, I have to go." She looks really disappointed, and you notice that her phone has started vibrating on a call. She looks at you again. "I'll text you about that coffee."

"I'll wait." You mumble, knowing she heard just by the soft smile she still holds as she answers the phone before waving goodbye and turning in the opposite direction of the parking lot.

You sigh loudly as you are left alone, trying to figure out where to see the strange feeling in your stomach that you think you haven't felt in years.

–//–

Wanda probably forgot about the coffee. You don't blame her, because America has every social network possible, and through her friendship with Billy Maximoff on Facebook, you are able to find Wanda Maximoff's only two social networks.

Her professional profile is impeccable. She is an important figure in a major New York company, but you are not too sure whether she is a writer or a manager, or both. Either way, with so many meetings and lectures in her feed, she is probably the busiest person you have ever met.

The only personal profile she has is a Facebook profile that hasn't been updated in almost three years. It is public, and has family photos - the vast majority with the twins - but what attracts attention is the tall man next to her. If the photos were tagged, it was removed today. There was no link to his profile. You also noticed that the relationship status was still Married, and tried to ignore the burning in your strangers with this information.

There should be no problem with Wanda being a married woman. You should have expected this, actually. In fact, you shouldn't expect anything at all. Losing Natasha wasn't exactly recent, but you weren't looking for someone to take her place. Ever.

Calling Wanda for coffee was a kind act in the interest of friendship, you convinced yourself. After all, with your antisocial nature, you didn't have many friends in New York.

America found you stalking Wanda's Facebook, however, and had a very different idea.

"She's a total milf, huh?"

You closed the laptop hard, looking at your daughter with indignation. "Excuse me, young lady?"

America shrugged. "Miss Maximoff, mom. She's so gorgeous, like a movie star. Everyone keeps staring when she comes to pick up the twins."

You grimace, hugging the laptop against your chest. "America, I don't think it's very appropriate for you to say such things to me, don't you agree?"

Your daughter laughs confusedly. "But you thought so too. You're just there stalking her on the Internet..."

"That's it, out." You stand up embarrassed, ignoring America's mischievous laughter in the hallway as you close the door. You grunt red-faced, putting your hands over your face and trying to get the image of Wanda out of your head. America shouts from the hallway:

"I'll order Enchiladas for dinner!" - You open the door just to say thanks.

To your surprise, Wanda texts you the next day.

It shouldn't really be a surprise, since the children's detention would start now, but still, you were so busy delivering some paintings that you almost completely forgot about it.

Hey Miss Romanoff, it's Wanda. Is everything okay for the kids to stay at your place this afternoon as we agreed? After detention?

You are listening to music, so you ask the virtual assistant to read the message while you continue painting one of the higher boards. When you realize who it is from, you almost fall down the stairs you are on.

Your cell phone screen smears blue paint when you pick it up in one go, having forgotten your dirty hands, and you curse softly.

Trying to sound casual, you decide on a voice message.

"Hey, Miss Max-Wanda, hey." Great start. "Sure, don't worry, I'll send you my address to come to pick them up later. And just Y/N is fine."

Wanda replies with an emoji heart, and you try to understand why yours is racing so fast.

–//–

Thomas and William Maximoff are two little devils. And America loves them, so you do too.

They play in the backyard and in the living room, surprisingly in harmony over sharing the video game after detention. You go back to work in the studio and keep the music down so you can hear them, and before you know it, the hours have passed and a red pickup truck is pulling up outside your house.

Wanda, on the other hand, doesn't seem too pleased to see that none of the children have had a decent meal after school, or done their homework. And you showing up with a dirty paint apron doesn't seem to help her judgment much.

"I don't usually cook, for the safety of the kitchen." You try to joke to ease the tension and get giggles from the smaller ones, but only a forced smile from the other, who continues with her arms crossed. "They're not hungry, you know. There were snacks and cookies..."

"Very healthy." Wanda interrupts wryly. "Get your backpacks boys, and thank them for having you. Let's go home before it gets later."

You and America watch Maximoff's hurried exit until Wanda's car disappears at the end of the street, and it is your daughter who speaks first.

"I think she likes you."

You chuckle incredulously, turning your face to America. "What gives you that idea? The deadly stare?"

The smaller girl rolls her eyes amused. "No, Mom! She didn't say she wasn't coming here anymore. And besides, Tommy told me she's kind of too straitlaced... he may have used the word crazy, but I don't think that's very appropriate for me to say."

You chuckle through your nose, ruffling America's hair as you pull her into the house with you.

"Well, the boys are your friends, so Wanda is going to have to get used to me because if there's one thing we take seriously in this family it's loyalty to our friends, isn't it, little Chavez?"

America smiles warmly, stealing a glance at Nat's painting on the wall before nodding in agreement. You check your watch.

"Maybe Wanda is right, though. What do you want for dinner? Real food. I can prepare something-"

America grimaces. "I want pizza!"

"But kiddo-"

"With plenty of pepperonis!"

You roll your eyes, unable to say no to that lovely girl.

–//–

The next day, when Billy and Tommy take out lunch boxes from their backpacks, you want to chuckle. It's so... you don't even know what to call that.

"What is that supposed to be?" America asks in a mixture of indignation and disgust, standing behind the boys sitting at the table. Tommy and Billy exchange sighs.

"It's called Zucchini Boats." Says William, poking at the snack with his fork - which Wanda also sent in her purse - "Mom is a vegetarian and so are we."

"That's what she thinks," Tommy mutters mischievously, receiving an elbow from his brother. "It's good, America. Want some?"

"No, I'm fine." Your daughter says quickly, exchanging a look with you before leaving the twins to grab some of the juice you are bringing them on a tray.

"Wow, that looks ... grown up." You comment with an impressed laugh as soon as you see the food the twins are pinching half-heartedly. "Do you guys always eat so fancy?"

"Yeah, all the time." Tommy replies grumpily. "Mom pays for vegetarian snacks at school, and it's always this kind of expensive food at the work parties she brings us to."

"Tommy, I don't think you should talk like that..." Billy whispers uncertainly but is cut off by the other.

"I can't stand eating asparagus or cabbage anymore! And I hate Lentils!" Challenges the twin, pushing the lunchbox onto the table.

America sips her juice in silence, and you sigh.

"Well, here's what we'll do then, little Maximoff." You say, picking up the bowl and some of the food that has fallen on the table. "I'll order hamburger and fries, and leave it on the counter. And you guys choose what you want to eat if you feel hungry."

Tommy loved the idea. Billy thanked him, but said he would stick with what his mother prepared. In any case, you ordered enough for everyone.

When the food arrived, you, America, and Tommy ate first. The Maximoff was very excited about eating meat - He eventually told you between bites that vegetarianism, as well as a dozen other habits, came to his family after his father passed away, and you were so surprised by the information that you could hardly nod in agreement. So Wanda was a widow like you? What a heartbreaking coincidence.

After you finished eating, you needed to continue working, and you left the children to do it. When you came back for some keys about ten minutes later, Tommy and America were playing video games in the living room and little Billy was eating French fries on the counter and having the time of his life. You didn't dare bother him.

The whole plot of Wanda and her vegetarian lunch boxes for 12-year-olds that were half going to waste - you insisted that they at least take a few bites out of respect for their mother's work - went on for three whole weeks.

It was on the penultimate day of detention when Wanda was already smiling as she came to pick up the kids, that she found out and showed up at your door during school hours.

"Sorry for the wait, I'm teaching a class." You tell her clumsily as you welcome her into the small makeshift office, while your students take a break in the studio in the other room.

Wanda hasn't even taken off her coat and is still holding her keys in her hands. "Don't worry, I'll be quick." She says. "I appreciate the favor of picking up the boys and letting them stay here, but it has come to my attention your inappropriate behavior, and I-"

"Wow, what are you talking about?" You interrupt in confusion.

Wanda doesn't hesitate, adjusting her posture. "The food I prepare for my children is properly planned with a nutritionist, and William has told me about your interference in their diet." You stare at her without reaction, and she takes advantage of your shock to continue speaking. "I respect that you are raising your daughter without any attention to a healthy diet, but I cannot allow you to do the same-"

"No, wait a second there." You cut her off with a short laugh, gesturing a little and without realizing it, moving closer, which makes Wanda take a step backward in that small office. "I never told them to stop eating your fancy food."

She grimaces. "But you bought junk food!" She rations angrily. "What do you expect children to choose?"

You chuckle. "Exactly, Wanda! They are children! You're the one who's feeding them like they're 60-year-old culinary critics!"

"A healthy diet is essential for their development-"

"Billy has never eaten pizza before! Do you understand how insane that sounds?"

Wanda feels her blood boil, much like you. And she doesn't realize she's screaming, much the same as you.

"Oh, what a crime not to want to give my two children a fat bomb! Arrest me for preventing cardiovascular disease when they are adults!

"What the hell are you talking about?" You retort with an indignant chuckle, but Wanda steps forward, her gaze deadly.

"I don't tell you how to raise your daughter, so don't you dare do it to me." She says seriously, and you swallow dryly.

"I never said anything like that." You retort. "It's not a crime to offer actual good food to a child."

Wanda frowns. "My food is good!" She defends herself almost offended, but you sigh wearily.

"For the adult palate? Yes, it is. I've tasted it, you have talent I admit." You say, surprising her a little by the compliment. Her posture almost breaks. "But for the boys? I'm sorry, I don't mean to pry, but they don't like it, okay? Especially Thomas. I didn't want you to find out like this, but he hasn't followed your all-important eating schedule in months, Miss Maximoff. He keeps buying candy and junk food around-"

"What?" she exclaims indignantly, turning away to walk around the room. You sigh. "Where does he get the money for that?"

You shrug casually. "I don't know, isn't he kind of pretty popular? Maybe he sells some toys or homework. I used to do that when I was young. And well, I give America an allowance and they hang out together a lot and-

"So you're the problem! Again!" Wanda suddenly accuses you, leaving you in shock. "You and your daughter, stay away from my boys!"

"Wanda, what...?"

But she turned her back on you and slammed the door hard on her way out. You huffed loudly, pressing your face between your hands for a long moment. Complete confusion in your mind.

–//–

You're not sure what you expected for the last day of detention, but it sure wasn't the call from the secretary about America skipping class.

You called her immediately, and to add to your despair, she didn't answer until an hour later, when you had already taken the car and were driving around town after her.

The arcade parking lot was empty because all the kids were in school. Except for a few.

You got down from the truck, and this time, you knew the blood was Billy's.

"Have you gone crazy? I drove all over town after you, America! Where-"

But she ran up to you, hugging you tightly, and you fell silent, worried. "I'm sorry, Mom!"

After massaging her back gently, you turned away to the boys sitting on the sidewalk. Bending down to Billy's height, you grabbed from the other twin the ice pack he held over his brother's bruised forehead.

"What happened, guys?" You asked, and all three of them started talking together. With a sigh, you shushed them. "Just one at a time, please."

America stepped forward. "We weren't going to skip the whole day, Mom, I promise! It's just that Tommy forgot to do his chemistry homework, so we were going to skip it so he wouldn't get in trouble!"

Tommy nods immediately. "We came here because we weren't going to hang around the school at the risk of getting caught." Continues the boy. "We were going to play and come back as soon as the next class time started."

Billy complains softly about the pain and you try to press more gently. "So?" You ask them to continue, but they don't, exchanging hesitant glances.

It is William who continues the story, his gaze in his lap. "It was the idiot brother of a classmate of ours. He was at the arcade, and he recognized me. He said he was furious that I got his brother in trouble. And he said... He said there's no place in this town for a faggy like me."

You sigh immediately, putting down the ice to hold his shoulder with your other hand. "Oh, Billy, I'm sorry."

He sniffles lightly, shrugging. "It's okay, I'm used to it. America and Tommy were buying soda, so the jerk threw me out here. As soon as they came, the guy ran off."

"It was the arcade owner who gave us the ice." America clarifies, coming over to sit down on the sidewalk across from Billy, and slipping an arm over his. "Sorry for taking so long, buddy. Next time I'm going to break his leg-"

"Hey, listen up here you three." You interrupt, looking at them seriously. "Violence is never the solution."

"But, Mom, they-"

"I know." You cut her off with a nod. "And it's unfair that it happened. And all we want to do is return that anger, but we can't be like that. Billy, I'm really sorry that you've heard cruel things. There's a place for you wherever you choose, that boy is just being an ignorant fool. Don't listen to him." You assure holding the hand of the boy in front of you. "You three are going back to school, and I'll take care of it the right way, okay?"

At first, they don't seem very willing, but eventually, they agree. You direct them back to school, and are not surprised at the increased detention Fury gives them for skipping class. Nick, however, is the one who provides the numbers of the parents of the kids who attacked them, and of a lawyer.

He comments something about having called Miss Maximoff but to no avail before thanking you for bringing the children back safely and saying goodbye.

You are walking back to your car when Wanda parks as if in a race movie.

"I'm glad you're here, Wanda, we need to talk." You announce loudly, walking to her car. She turns it off, takes out the key, and gets down, slamming the door.

"I don't have time, the director called me during a meeting, and I-"

"I know." You cut her off, and make no mention of moving out of her way, trapping her between cars. "Our kids were skipping class."

She chuckles dryly. "That's what I'm talking about, your daughter is a terrible influence. I wasn't wrong when-"

"She was helping Tommy." You cut in again, crossing your arms. "Yeah. He didn't do his chemistry homework or something, and they decided to skip the first period so he wouldn't get a scolding. Because, yes, he'd rather take his chances on the street than smear the perfect record mommy wants for him."

Wanda tilts her head. "Watch your mouth." She warns between teeth, and you roll your eyes.

"Billy got punched." You declare, and Wanda's posture breaks completely. Desperation fills her expression.

"W-what... Excuse me, I have-"

"It's taken care of, it was just a scratch I looked at it myself." You interrupt, steadying your feet in her path, and ignoring the way she looks you up and down. "But these assaults, Wanda, we need to get a handle on this."

She is surprised, in a good way. And she swallows dryly, trying to adjust her posture. "That's not your problem."

You don't care, pulling out of your pocket the lawyer's paper Fury gave you to hand to her

as you quickly explain the whole story. Wanda is unresponsive until she sniffles slightly, and this breaks your posture.

Your natural instinct is to touch her, but you hold back, clenching your hands, and Wanda turns her face away, hugging her own body as she controls her crying.

"Forgive me, I just..." She takes a deep breath. "They're all I have. And they're perfect, just the way they are. I just wanted to...do the best for them. Keep them safe, and happy. But apparently, New York is even worse than Westview."

"Hey, I understand that." You can't resist, raising a hand to her back, and thanking the gods that Wanda leans into the touch instead of backing away. "Some things are beyond our control. But I think you're doing a damn fine job, Wanda."

She raises her eyes at you. "Really?"

"Yeah." You assure her with a smile. "Your kids are great. Smart, so independent, and good-natured. Very united and loyal. You've done a really good job with them-"

Wanda hugs you tightly around the neck, cutting off your sentence. You smile, putting your arms around her just as the surprise fades. She sighs. "Thank you." She whispers, and you squeeze tighter before letting go.

"Call Jen Walters about this. Nick said she's a good lawyer." You remind her, and Wanda nods. You put your hands in your pockets and stare at her for a moment. "Were you at some fancy event? You look good."

She blushes, smiling shyly and adjusting her suit. "Something like that. Just a new book launch, so phone off. As soon as I saw the missed calls, I ran here..."

You chuckle lightly. "Yeah, I noticed the Fast and Furious you pulled out." You joke getting a laugh and a slap on the arm.

As the laughter dies down, you face each other. And Wanda is the first to swallow dryly and shift her gaze away.

"I should go there... just to make sure everything is okay." She says pointing to the school. You clear your throat and finally give her space to walk through.

"Sure, sure. I see you...?"

Wanda looks at you over her shoulder, a soft smile on her lips. "Over coffee." She invites, her smile widening with your surprise. "It's about time, don't you think?"

You nod, swallowing your anxiety. "I can’t wait." You guarantee, and when she leaves, your cheeks are flushed like hers.

–//–

Wanda doesn't call. But she doesn't have to.

The detentions are over; you're pretty sure she threatened Nick Fury on her way back to the office, but whatever she said, she made sure that the victims of the story stopped being punished. Tommy received a short warning for his duty, but the matter was soon forgotten.

You were surprised that even with the end of the detention, the Maximoff twins were on your doorstep on Tuesday. And next to them, Wanda.

"If you're not busy, I was thinking we could all have lunch together. I got some free time at the office." Clarified the matriarch, and well, you had a dozen or so orders to make and they would all have to wait because no chance at all of you dismissing going out with Wanda.

She is infinitely more pleasant company than the impression you got during your fights. She is a fierce mother, but she is so much more than that. She's brilliant, passionate, and generous. You find yourself captured by her like a work of art, which you can stare at for hours and hours, trying to absorb every detail and discover others.

Lunch turns into afternoon snacks, and into dinners. The Maximoffs show up at your house on a weekly basis, Wanda cooks for you sometimes, and at other times allows herself to eat junk food with everyone else.

And family dates become the two of you dates when she kisses you.

It takes you completely by surprise, honestly.

You have been dancing into a family routine for amazing weeks, and after one of the dinners, it gets late enough to insist that they sleep over at your place.

The boys stay in America's room, and you take over the living room so that Wanda is comfortable in her room.

When she shows up at dawn in the kitchen while you're making tea, the first thing she says is "I feel terrible about making you sleep on the couch. I can't sleep because of it."

You smile and separate a mug of tea for her too.

"I think we finally had that drink." You comment a long moment later, as you pour the tea for yourselves.

Wanda smiles mischievously. "I don't think it counts." She murmurs mysteriously, and you raise an eyebrow.

"No?"

Wanda hums in the negative. "We've drunk together a dozen times now, Y/N." She retorts, holding the cup close to her mouth. "If you want to take me out, you need to genuinely ask."

She sips her tea, and you swallow dryly as you stare into her lips. Blinking away when you notice her naughty smile, you ignore your nervousness, and retort, "I asked, you're the one who didn't call me."

Wanda raises her eyebrow, taken aback that you brought back this information from so many weeks later. She doesn't lose her composure, however. "I thought it wouldn't be appropriate when given a second thought about it."

You sip some tea. "And what do you think of us now?"

Instead of answering, she leans over the countertop. She grabs the collar of your shirt and kisses you hard. Your whole body vibrates, and you gasp. But she lets you go before you have the chance to respond properly.

"I think if you don't ask me out soon, I'll have to do it myself." She teases affectedly, breathing out of breath as you do. You laugh, nodding.

"Go out with me."

She raises an eyebrow. "Is that an order?" She teases, and you grunt.

"God, Wanda, come here." That's what you say before pulling her back to you, mouth to mouth.

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff #marvel imagines #elizabeth olsen x reader

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pensat-i-fet · 10 months

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All yours (Rúben Dias x Reader)

**So I got a couple of requests to write about being on holiday with Rúben after he posted some holiday content. And a more specific one involved this sort of fwb situation with some jealousy in the mix that inspired me a lot. And this is what I came up with. I always appreciate any feedback but this time it'd be interesting to know your thoughts since the tone and vibe (not the topic itself completely) of this is similar to a Rúben series I need to continue working on. So it'd be amazing to know how you guys feel about it. Enjoy reading!! ❤️**

Word count: 2947

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"You're coming with us to our holiday, right?", asked Rúben when you got out of the shower.

"I don't know".

"What do you mean you don't know? You've travelled with us for the last 5 years. Do you have better plans?"

"I just…I don't know if it's the best idea now that…you know".

He got closer to you, smirking. "I might be having memory problems. Now that what?"

"You'll have other problems if you don't remove that annoying smug grin from your ugly face", you said, rolling your eyes and making him laugh.

When you tried to walk towards your closet, he stopped you wrapping his arms around your waist.

"Do you mean", he said, leaving kisses on your neck, "now that we stay in each other's beds instead of the guest rooms during our sleepovers? Because I only see that as a bigger reason for you to be there. I'm sure we'll find a way to have some alone time".

"But this is just something casual, Rúben. You’ve said it many times. What if I cockblock you? Or worse…you cockblock me!"

You noticed his arms holding you tighter for a heartbeat before he let go of you.

"We'll be fine. Please come with us, the boys always want you there. I want you there. You know that".

There was something in his tone that made you stop. Did he sound a bit…sad? But why would he? It’s just the summer holidays.

“Where are you going anyway? Same as always?”

“No, we’re going to Miami”.

He looked at your reaction, knowing you’d wanted to visit Miami for years. That was actually one of the reasons why he suggested that place as an option in the first place.

“I mean…”.

“I’ll send you the info when I finish booking everything”.

“I didn’t say yes, Rúben”.

“You said it with your eyes”.

“Oh yeah? What are my eyes saying now?”, you asked, glaring at him. “Stop smirking! You’re so annoying!”

"We are going to have so much fun!"

"Nothing is going to happen there. No one can know about this…arrangement. Or we'll never hear the end of it".

"Try and be a bit more quiet, then".

He was still laughing when the pillow hit his face and you took that opportunity to go get dressed. And to start planning what to pack for Miami.

"I'm so hungover", you said when your little group of friends was waiting at the airport for your flight to the US.

"You sit with Rúben, then. He's probably still hungover too from the celebrations".

"As long as he doesn't puke again…".

"You're all so funny", said Rúben, rolling his eyes. He wasn't hungover but really tired after such a long season.

"You take the window seat. I'll be sleeping most of the time, anyway".

"Ok".

Trying to get comfortable, you started to notice it was a bit chilly on the plane.

"I need my jacket and your brother has my bag. I'll be right back", you said, trying to get up but Rúben stopped you.

"Just wear my hoodie", he took it off and put it in your lap, but instead of taking it you just stared at it. "What?"

"It's just that, wearing your clothes…that’s like couple stuff. And we’re not a couple".

"It's something you've done your entire life. Don't try to make it weird just because we are sleeping together now".

"Rúben!", your eyes widened and you also noticed the man sitting to your left staring at you two.

But he just shrugged and put his headphones on, ready to watch a movie. So you took the hoodie and put it on before trying to fall asleep quickly. But seeing Rúben sitting next to you made it harder to sleep. This whole friends with benefits thing was fun. I mean, it was Rúben you got to sleep with. But it was also…weird. You had always been friends and how were you supposed to go back to just friends once one of you found a partner? And why did that idea feel so wrong right now?

"Can't sleep?", he asked when he looked at you and saw you staring at his movie.

You shook your head, sighing.

"Come here".

"What do you mean?"

"You know what I mean. Come closer so you can cuddle me. You'll fall asleep quicker".

"You think so highly of yourself, Dias…".

But you did as he said, moving closer so you could put your arms around his waist and place your head on his chest. His arm was around your shoulder and his hand kept caressing the top of your arm. And even if you were overanalyzing a gesture that was so normal for you two, in just a couple of minutes, you were already sleeping.

Sleeping on the plane meant you were ready to enjoy the rest of the day once you landed in Miami. Everyone else just wanted to go to the beach and rest but you were itching to go out to explore the city.

"Come on!! It's so early. Let's go find somewhere to eat and then we can walk around the area".

"I'll go with you".

When Rúben spoke, everyone looked at him and you started to worry about them suspecting something. He was always volunteering to be with you, no matter what you suggested.

"Cool, Rúben can go with you and be your bodyguard for tonight".

"Bodyguard?"

"We aren't going to let you run around all alone in a foreign country…and at night".

"You don't even let me run around my hometown", you muttered, rolling your eyes at how overprotective they all were.

"You are like a little sister to us. We have to protect you. So off you go with big bro Rúben".

Shaking your head, you turned to leave the hotel, noticing Rúben right behind you.

For the first couple of minutes, you two walked in silence. You were too busy staring at your surroundings to say anything. And then you noticed Rúben putting his arm around your shoulders.

"What are you doing?"

"There are some weird guys looking at you".

"Thank you, big brother. What would I do without your protection?"

Rúben didn't find your sarcasm funny and when you were walking past an alley a couple of seconds later, he made you both walk inside it so he could push you against the wall and kiss you.

"I'm not your brother".

"You aren't my boyfriend either".

He shook his head, looking like he wanted to say more but not doing it. "Let's keep walking".

When you got back to the hotel, a part of you was hoping he would ask you to go to his room. Or that he would follow you to yours but he only wished you a goodnight and left you outside of the lift.

That's where you found him and the rest of the gang the next morning.

"Ready for today?"

"What's the plan?", you asked, hoping they didn't just plan on staying at the beach all day.

"Breakfast, beach, sightseeing and night out".

"I love that plan", you said, clapping your hands. "Maybe we can go shopping too".

After you had some breakfast, you moved to the private area of the beach so you could relax on the sunbeds for a couple of hours.

"I need sunscreen on my back!", you said, lifting your arm that held the bottle until someone grabbed it. You didn't even know who did, but when you placed your head on the sunbed, you saw Rúben sitting a couple of sunbeds away from you. So it wasn't him.

You closed your eyes, trying to relax. But anyone who bothered looking at Rúben's face would have noticed the tension in his features. He knew neither his brother nor his friends were interested in you in that way. They really meant it when they said you were like a sister to them. But still, seeing another man's hands on your body filled him with rage. He wanted to be the one putting the cream on your back and shoulders, leaving kisses all over your body while he applied it. But he had to look from afar. And it ruined his mood for the whole day.

By the time you made it to the hotel, you only had 30 minutes to get ready. But you already planned some cute outfits for the nights out so you ended up getting ready in less than half an hour.

"You're wearing that?"

His friend's words made Rúben look up.

"We are not doing this, boys. It's just a dress".

"One of us by your side the whole time, yeah", they joked.

"You'll have to catch me first!", you laughed, running outside of the hotel and making all your friends get up quickly to follow you.

You were so busy looking behind you that you didn't notice someone walking in front of you until you bumped into him.

"Oh my God! Sorry".

"It's ok", he said, holding your arm to steady you. "Are you ok? Were you running away from someone?"

His concern made you smile. And the fact that he was cute didn't hurt. "My friends but as a joke. They are alright…and right there".

"And they are all men".

"Yeah", you laughed. "But they act like little boys most of the time".

When they got to where you, and a stranger, were, they didn't know what to do. It was always hilarious to you how they didn't understand the concept of you talking to other men. You were one of the lads to them, but in moments like that, they realized you weren't a lad.

"We were going to grab a drink at a bar, do you want to come with us?"

"Sure", the guy, Sean, said. And you introduced him to everyone before making your way to the bar.

To say that Rúben wasn't happy would be an understatement. He just kept staring at you and Sean, while you were laughing and dancing. It should be him doing that with you, not a random dude whose last name you didn't even know.

"Another drink? How obvious".

"What are you muttering, grumpy?", asked his brother, who knew more than you and Rúben thought.

"Nothing…but I mean, what's that? The third drink he buys for her? We all know what he's trying to do".

"We are here to avoid that, stop worrying. No one is hurting her while we are around".

"I don't know. Maybe she wants it. Maybe she wants him".

Everyone could hear the bitterness in Rúben's voice.

"When she should want you, right?"

Rúben cleared his throat, not wanting to look at his brother after being so obvious.

"Do you think I don't know about you two?"

That made him look. "How would you…".

"You're not as discreet as you think you are but I get you wanted to keep it a secret so whatever", he shrugged. "What I didn't know was that there was more".

"More?"

"You couldn't be more jealous, Rúben".

"It's just something casual. But she's my friend…".

"No, she's my friend. That's why I'm careful to look her way every once in a while just in case she needs me. You are just looking at him and fantasizing about breaking his nose, probably".

Rúben shook his head and left to go to the bathroom. He just needed to splash some cold water on his face to hopefully get his common sense back. You were just friends with benefits. He didn't get to be jealous.

"Hey, bro".

Of course, it had to be Sean who he found in the bathroom. "Hey! Having a good time?"

"Do you have to ask?", he laughed, and Rúben didn't like that laugh at all. "Your friend is so hot. Is she good in bed too? She has to be, right?"

"How would I know? She's just my friend".

"Right…if my group of friends had a hot chick like her in it, we would all be just friends. Of course".

"What are you insinuating about her?".

Sean didn't realise how much bigger than him Rúben was until they were almost face to face.

"The way you all joke, the way she dresses…and she just invited me to buy her drinks before she even asked my name. Do you want me to believe you haven't all at least tried it once? I know girls like her".

Rúben pushed Sean against the wall, lowering his voice to try to not make a scene. But making sure his voice was menacing enough for Sean to get the message that he could break his nose, like his brother suggested, very easily.

"You don't know her at all. And what you're going to do is go out and excuse yourself and leave. Or you'll regret every word you've said about her…and all the ones you thought but didn't say out loud. Am I clear?"

Sean swallowed and nodded. And Rúben moved back just enough to allow him to leave the bathroom but to also take note of how strong Rúben really was.

He took a couple of deep breaths before going out and when he did, he couldn't believe what he saw. Not only was Sean still there, one of his hands was on your waist and he was whispering things in your ear.

Without saying a word to anyone, he walked towards you two and when Sean saw him, he just smiled.

"You don't want to make a scene here, do you?"

"What are you talking about?", you asked, looking from Sean to Rúben, confused about the whole situation.

"We are leaving", said Rúben, grabbing your hand so you can follow him.

"What? No! Why would I leave? I'm chatting with Sean".

"The guy who calls you a whore the moment you're not around? No, you are coming with me".

"He called her a what?"

All of your friends were now surrounding Sean. But you didn't care about any of them, tired of their overprotective nature towards you. So you let go of Rúben's hand and got out of the bar.

Rúben followed you, worried about your reaction.

"Wait! Stop walking. You're not even going in the right direction!"

"Maybe I'm going in the right direction because I'm going as far away from you as possible!"

"You didn't hear what he said about you. It was disgusting".

"If I want to be with a disgusting guy, it's my problem!"

"Now you're being ridiculous. Should we let you be taken advantage of?"

You finally stopped walking and turned to look at Rúben.

"What do you want from me? You are confusing me so much that my head is fucking spinning! First, you want us to just be fuck buddies and nothing else. Then you act all jealous whenever I talk to a guy but you keep on going out with girls so…how does that work? Do I get to be jealous too? Or it's only you who can?"

Rúben didn't know what to say. Because he was the first one confused by what he felt.

"What is it, Rúben? Because I don't know. And now you do what? Defend my honour? As if you were my boyfriend".

"You didn't hear what he said about you", he repeated, still mad at Sean's words.

"Let me guess. He thinks I'm fucking all of you, right? Like literally every man I meet that finds out I have a group of friends with only men in it", when you saw Rúben's face, you let out a sad laugh. "He was going to be a one-night stand, Rúben. Not my future husband. Who cares what he thinks about me?"

"I do! Hearing him say those things about you…".

"I said it the other day and I'll say it again. Rúben, you aren't my boyfriend. Stop acting like you are".

He swore under his breath when you started to walk again.

"Let's change that, then".

"Change what?"

"Let me be your boyfriend".

This time you stopped walking but feared turning to face him. Those were the words you had been dying to hear since the day you kissed while watching a movie months ago. You expected him to tell you he felt the same way about you. That he had been in love with you for years too. But he just proposed the stupid friends with benefits arrangement. And you said yes because at least you got to have him in some way. But it wasn't enough. You kept pushing him, telling him you weren’t a couple when he acted like your boyfriend. You wanted him to react. And he finally did.

"Don't just say it because you are angry at a dude calling me names, Rúben. You don't get to play with my feelings like that".

"I'm not playing. I thought I was scared of losing you as a friend but…I was just scared of facing my feelings. Of telling you how I felt and seeing you rejecting me".

"How do you feel?"

"I love you. And I know it's not the first time I tell you that but …I don't mean love as a friend. I mean, that too, of course. But I'm also in love with you. And I have been for a while"

He didn't know how to interpret the tears in your eyes. But a hug was always a good option, right?

"I love you too. But I need all of you, Rúben. Not just the little bits I've been getting these past months. It’s all or nothing".

"You have it all. All of it. I'm all yours. And I need you to be mine".

"I already am".

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