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writersblockiskillingme · 5 months

Note

hiiii here’s my request idea 🫶🏽 after getting sent to district 12 coriolanus meets fem!reader (who’s a part of the covey) he thought he was in love with lucy gray but ends up falling for reader way more intensely than he did for lucy gray but reader feels guilty because lucy gray seems to really like him and she doesn’t want to betray her

Another Love | Coriolanus Snow

Pairing: Coriolanus Snow x fem!reader (Covey!reader)

Summary: He loved her from a moment he saw her, but she can't love him back.

Warning/s: angst, heartbreak, forbidden love, two or three curse words, tears, possessive Coriolanus, reader's abusive ex, ex touching the reader without permission (nothing graphic, he just grabs reader's arm), no happy ending, grammar and spelling mistakes

Author's note: I used some of the lyrics of Taylor Swift's King of My Heart as a song that "reader wrote for Coryo" and I skipped one part of the main song that I used because I felt like it wouldn't fit the timeline. So, this one's been a long time coming, but I hope you enjoy!

(Y/N) - your name

(Y/H/C) - your hair color

I wanna take you somewhere so you know I care

But it's so cold and I don't know where

I brought you daffodils in a pretty string

But they won't flower like they did last spring

Coriolanus Snow felt his nerves getting the best of him. He felt shivers going down his spine as Lucy Gray and him got closer and closer to their destination.

He was supposed to meet the rest of the Covey, her family, today. Lucy Gray held his hand tightly, squeezing it a bit more as she noticed just how nervous he truly seemed to be.

It didn't comfort him much.

Not her hand in his, it felt too small now. Nor her presence next to him. It didn't excite him as much as it did once. Yet he loved her, right?

Right?

As they finally got to the lake the lake he noticed a group of people sitting by the edge of the lake.

He could practically feel the excitement radiating off of Lucy Gray as he noticed one of them turned around noticing them and taping the ones close to gain their attention to the arrivals, too.

Lucy Gray didn't let go of him as she eagerly introduced him to evey single member of her family, the Covey.

That day Coriolanus met little Maude Ivory, Barb Azure, Tam Amber and Clerk Carmine Clade.

"And finally my big cousin, (Y/N) Baird." Lucy Gray smiled and when you looked up Coriolanus could've sworn that his heart stopped.

Your beauty was truly unmatched, your kind smile so radiant so infection that he was willing to die because of it any day you wished. Your hair was graciously flowing around in the wind just like your light summer dress. Your posture, your face. But once you spoke he knew that he was a gonner.

"Nice to meet you, Coriolanus Snow." Your voice was as kind as your eyes, it matched you perfectly.

Later on, he saw you sitting under the tree, away from the sun, away from the rest of your family.

Coriolanus felt truly, utterly, stupid for a bit as he stood a few feet away from Lucy Gray's, obviously favorite, cousin as he held a young, brightly yellow, daffodil that he found by the edge of the forest, not that far away from the lake where the rest of the Covey were.

He didn't know why did he do it. He didn't know why would he pick a flower and give it to you. He just figured that the flower was pretty (just like you were) and that you will probably like it.

But deep down he knew, but just yet wouldn't admit it to himself.

"For you."

You looked up, your eyes meeting with gorgeous blue ones as he held out a gorgeous daffodil to you. You couldn't help but to laugh out loud at the irony that consumed you.

Coriolanus watched you laugh, he never heard a sound as angelic as this, not even when he heard Lucy Gray sing.

He hated himself for it. He hated himself for wanting to bottle up that angelic laugh and keep it for himself, to protect it, to own it. But he couldn't help but to wonder why are you laughing.

"What's funny if I may ask?" He gently asked, afraid that you were laughing at him, finding his stupidity oh so amazing. He was scared of rejection, but why?

He's with Lucy Gray.

"It's just-" Your laughter turned into a giggle, Coriolanus felt blood suddenly rushing into his cheeks as he heard the sound that you were making, because of him.

"Daffodils are my favorite flowers, it's a little funny that you picked a random flower and guessed this."

Coriolanus couldn't help himself. He found himself laughing too as he sat down and got to know you.

The day passed quickly, probably because he spent it with you. So as he stepped away from you after saying goodbye and as he slipped his hand into Lucy Gray's hand he knew he fucked up.

The way his chest tightened when you laughed, the way his hand accidentally brushed against yours when you talked he realized that it fit his perfectly. Like it was made to be held by him. The way that your hair fell in front of your eyes, shielding them from him... all he wanted was to brush it away, yet he knew he couldn't.

And as Lucy Gray talked about how happy she was that he got along with everyone amazingly, he knew he fucked up because he realized that he fell in love with you even though he knew that he shouldn't have.

And if somebody hurts you, I wanna fight

But my hand's been broken one too many times

So I'll use my voice, I'll be so fucking rude

Words, they always win, but I know I'll lose

"Nothing you can take from me was ever worth keeping"

Your voice echoed through the bar as you sang your heart out on the stage.

The people around were dancing and singing along with your beautiful, angelic yet strong voice like their life dependent on it.

Coriolanus was standing in the corner, leaned against the weirdly wet wall, smile placed onto his face as he watched you perform. Warm feeling spreaded across his chest as he watched you. A fire that will soon be drowned buy cold icy feeling as he watched someone coming up to you. Talking to you while you clearly didn't want to talk to him.

"Let go of me, now!"

Coriolanus took one step forward so he could see better and try to figure out who is bothering you and clearly making you uncomfortable. He felt himself freeze once he realized who it was.

Thomas Vill. Your abusive ex.

He remembered Lucy Gray talking to him about your ex. He remembered her saying that he made your life a living hell.

Coriolanus instantly saw red the moment he realized that he harshly grabbed your hand, not letting you go. The fear in your eyes was enough to set Coriolanus to move toward the stage as quickly as he could.

He still doesn't remember how that happened, but he grabbed Thomas by his shoulders as he planted his fist directly into his face, blood spraying his fist the moment it locked onto Thomas' face.

He heard you gasp at the sight, but he didn't stop.

Coriolanus pushed Thomas onto the floor as he started to beat the audacity out of him. You never saw him this angry before.

You quickly, somehow, snapped out of the shock and started to try and pull Coriolanus off of him because you realized that if you didn't do something, he will kill him in front of you.

And it's not like Thomas didn't deserve it, but you didn't want Coryo to get into more trouble now that he had finally somewhat gotten his life into control.

Sejanus Plinth saw what happened. He was quick to join you and started to pull Coriolanus off of Thomas. He lucky succeed because he was stronger. He was a Peacekeeper after all.

You felt panic arise into your throat as you looked around and realized that almost everyone was staring at you.

Without spearing Thomas a second glance, you ran after Coriolanus and Sejanus. Your mind racing, what will Lucy Gray think? Why did her love beat up her cousin's ex in front of more than half of District 12.

Once you pushed yourself through the crowd you finally reached the outside where you saw Coriolanus spitting some blood from his mouth, your heart braking at the sight.

"What did you think that you were doing?!" You couldn't help to yell at him as you finally reached him.

"He was lucky I didn't kill him." Coriolanus answered calmly as he rubbed his lips to get rid of the blood.

"You can't do that, Coryo!" You continued, finally spilling your emotions out in front of the man you loved.

"So what?!" Coriolanus raised his voice now, too. "I could've just let that bastard touch you against your will?!"

"No!" You ran your hands through your hair in frustration. "But what would Lucy Gray think if she saw you doing that?"

You were so scared.

Was he not thinking rationally?

"I don't care." He answered, truthfully, you knew that and it scared you.

For a moment you were quiet until he spoke up again.

"You know I love you, right?" He asked you, peeking at you in the night, moonlight reflected the beauty of his deep blue eyes.

"No..." You felt every last bit of air leave your lungs as you spoke, panic raising in your chest. "You can't love me, Coryo."

"Why not?" He asked in frustration, his chest moving up and down in desperate attempt to calm himself, to try and rid himself of this injustice.

"Don't-" your voice broke. "Don't do this to me." You begged.

He gently grabbed your hand and your breath quickened, it was nothing like when Thomas grabbed you earlier. This was soft, caring even as he brought your body closer to his.

"Tell me why." He was begging now, oh God how much did he hate this. "Tell me that you don't love me."

"I-"

"Look me in the eyes, (Y/N), and tell me that you don't love me and I will walk away." Coriolanus spoke, his breath on your cold cheeks as he spoke. "Look me in the eyes and tell me that you don't want me."

"Coryo-"

"Break my heart the way it's supposed to happen." He breathed out. "Go on."

"I-" You took a deep breath, meeting his eyes not realizing that you're crying. "I love you, but I can't."

"(Y/N)-"

"You can want to love me and I can do that too, but I can't do it to my cousin." You spoke separating yourself from him as you left him in the middle of the cold night, tears streaming down your cheeks as you went.

Lucy Gray.

And I'd sing a song that'd be just ours

But I sang 'em all to another heart

And I wanna cry, I wanna learn to love

But all my tears have been used up

"Your love is a secret I'm hoping, dreaming, dying to keep."

Lucy Gray's voice echoed through the bar as she played the guitar and sang the song you wrote.

You told the Covey you weren't really feeling good so you decided to stay backstage as you listened to Lucy Gray and the rest of the Covey, and watched the crowd singing and dancing the the words that you poured out from the depths of your heart.

Your eyes were searching for Coriolanus in the bar and after a while you finally found him.

He was sitting on a par of turned-over buckets with Sejanus. He was wearing simple clothes instead of his Peacekeeper uniform, but he was still wearing his dog tag that initiated that he had probably finished his shift and he decided to show up here.

You couldn't do this.

Lucy Gray's voice was happily singing away at the cords and lyrics that were written by you as she kept her eyes looked onto Coriolanus' blue ones.

His eyes were sparkling, but not as much as they did when he was with you.

Lucy Gray was so happy with him. So full of joy, and you were so happy for her, but fuck... you loved him, too.

You knew that he loved her, but you also knew that perhaps he loved you more. Yet you knew that you couldn't and wouldn't ever break Lucy Gray's heart like that. She was your cousin and you knew that guilt would be eating you alive, it already did.

So with a tear sliding down your cheek you listened to her sing before you turned around and left.

"And all at once, you are the one I have been waiting for,

King of my heart, body and soul"

Coriolanus Snow really tried to keep his eyes on her, but once she sang that his gaze found your (Y/H/C) for a moment before it disappeared behind the curtains. His chest tightened at the sight and at the words that you wrote for him.

You were like a delicate flower, like an angel sent to guide him. You were eveything that he needed, a daffodil in the middle of the winter.

But he couldn't have you and you couldn't have him. It's just the way it had to be, no matter how painful it was.

On another love, another love

All my tears have been used up

TAGLIST:

@hellonheels-x @especiallythewomenandthechildren @prettyinsatiable @caroline-books @runningfrom2am @10ava01 @thecrowdedstreetin1944

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jqngkooz · 4 months

Text

tis the damn season’ (2) | jjk

pairing: jungkook x reader

rating: 18+ (no smut in this chapter just a makeout scene 🙈)

genre: f2l? more like idiots to lovers, mutual pining, angst, fluff, eventual smut

warnings: infidelity and just general bad decision making skills lmao, jealousy, arguing, swearing, one mention of a dick, kissing, making out. jk’s a bit of a player but he has his reasons.

w/c: 3.2k

a/n: pt.2 is here!!!! so sorry it took a while. enjoy :)

summary: When Jimin convinces you to spend christmas in a cabin in the middle of nowhere with your entire friend group, you’re forced to face the feelings that you’ve been suppressing for your best friend Jungkook after all these years.

“I must say, you’re the most stable person I know and I don’t think I’ve ever seen you crumble like this.” Yoongi is kind enough to be up at 6 am with Jungkook, making him coffee as he sits at the kitchen island with his head on the cold surface.

He spent the whole night tossing and turning next to the girl he’d stupidly invited in an attempt to not seem like a loser to you. Clearly, you didn’t feel the same way, that was evident by the fact that you almost married another man and still didn’t even reach out when you broke the engagement off. He just didn’t want you to think he was a loser who had spent the last three months sulking. He had.

“I know, I’m a mess,” Jungkook starts, face pressed into the table, “and she’s nice, Isabelle I mean, and I like her…”

Yoongi places the cup of coffee next to Jungkook and finishes his sentence for him, “But she’s not y/n.”

It’s weird. In senior year Jungkook had gotten a girlfriend. She was a cheerleader with a swishy ponytail that had latched onto your friend group, always wanting to be around him. You’d gotten weirdly distant at that time, cancelling your after-school study sessions only for him to find out you were doing them with Jimin instead. It’s like sometimes he got the feeling that you didn’t want him to be with other people and that gave him hope that you might have felt the same, but you never told him. No angry love confessions in the rain, nothing. You never made a move. And it messed with his head until he felt dizzy and utterly confused about just what the hell you wanted.

“Did you invite her here just to make y/n jealous?” Namjoon’s voice booms a little too loud as he comes down the stairs and into the kitchen, causing Jungkook to sit up and wince.

He sighs, “Yes, well- no not exactly.”

“Then why?”

He looks up at Namjoon who looks slightly disappointed and his heart pangs a little, suddenly feeling like that 15-year-old who would do anything for Joon’s approval again.

He groans, “I thought she’d be mad and ignore me or something.”

Namjoon shakes his head, he knows you would never.

“I just thought if I brought another girl she’d think that I moved on and we could just go back to being normal again.”

Jungkook looks up at Yoongi as if he’s checking for approval, he’s met with a very disapproving stare. Yoongi sighs, “Jungkook, are you stupid?”

He frowns, big round eyes staring at Yoongi. “No?” Maybe he was, waiting 10 years to tell you he loved you when it was far too late was kind of stupid.

“She loves you, you realise that right?”

Jungkook sighs, “Yeah I know b-”

Yoongi cuts him off, “No, not as a friend idiot. She loves you.” He shakes his head rapidly.

“You know she messaged me every week asking how you were after you fell out? She made me send pictures of you and Bam because she missed you. Jungkook, you put her in an awkward situation, she was engaged. But that doesn’t mean she didn’t feel the same way. You never asked her how she felt, did you?”

Taehyung knows Jungkook like the back of his hand. He knows that his guilty pleasure is chilli cheese fries, he remembers a time in college when that was all he ate for an entire week. He knows that Jungkook unwinds on a weekend by watching crappy reality tv because he caught him one time before he could change the channel. He also knows that Jungkook doesn’t like losing. And that’s how he knows this plan will work.

Truthfully, Tae has always been flirty with you. He’s flirty with everyone, but you usually laugh him off, never taking his compliments seriously. That’s why Jungkook’s a little confused at your sudden interest in him. All day you’ve been clinging to him and laughing at his jokes like he’s the funniest guy in the world. Jungkook knows he’s not that funny. Even now as you all attempt to build snowmen in the cabin’s garden you both look like something out of a hallmark movie, all bundled up with hats and scarves as you throw snowballs at each other.

It’s Seokjin who notices Jungkook’s frown as he stands next to his snowman watching you and Tae.

“Why is your snowman buff?”

Jungkook breaks his gaze away from you two, turning to Seokjin. He can still hear your giggles as Tae shoves snow down the back of your coat and chases you with another lump of it that’s probably big enough to knock you out.

He shrugs, “Wanted it to look like me. Why does yours have a dick?”

“Wanted it to look like me.” Seokjin remarks, eliciting probably Jungkook’s first smile today. “What’s got you all frowny?”

Jungkook shakes his head, the tassels on his woolly hat shaking with him, “Ah, nothing.”

“Does that ‘nothing’ have to do with those two?”

Now his attention’s back on you again. You’re far too close to Taehyung’s face, brushing snow off of his cheeks and apologising, saying you hadn’t meant to actually get him in the face.

“Just didn’t know they were that close.”

“They’re not usually.”

It’s when you come jogging towards Jungkook and Seokjin that the conversation stops. You’re a little out of breath from all the running as you stand in front of them, admiring Jungkook’s snowman with a smile.

“Always the perfectionist. Mine’s already fallen apart. How is yours so stable?” You laugh.

“I dunno.” He answers, unusually sharply and it has you turning to look at him with a cock of your head.

“Everything okay?”

That’s Seokjin’s cue to leave and he busies himself with trying to kick Jimin’s work of art down.

“Yeah. Why wouldn’t it be?” He doesn’t know where to look and settles on his shoes. At least they’re not boring into his soul like your eyes are right now.

“Okay yeah, I don’t know. Just checking.” You smile again as if you truly have no idea why he seems upset. Of course you do, yours and Tae’s whole act is painfully obvious to everyone else in the cabin, but Jungkook isn’t exactly the most rational thinker when it comes to you. “Where’s Isabelle?”

“Oh, she’s uh, inside. She doesn’t like snow.”

You frown, “Who doesn’t like snow?”

He shrugs, finally looking up at you.

“I think my toes are gonna freeze off if I’m out here any longer. I’m gonna go warm up so I’ll check up on her.” You add.

No. That’s the worst thing that could happen. You and Isabelle alone? Talking? She’d surely tell you that she wasn’t actually Jungkook’s girlfriend, just a casual hook-up and that she has no real idea why he invited her. He shudders at the thought.

“So you’re not dating?”

Once you’d pressed yourself up against the heater until your fingers gained some colour again and double-layered on fresh socks, you padded down the stairs to find Isabelle sitting on the couch alone.

“No. He made it very clear it was nothing more than sex for him, which is fine, but I don’t know if that’s what I want anymore, in life you know?”

You nod. Isabelle is lovely, she’s sweet and gentle and you’re sure you would have been friends in another life if she wasn’t fucking the guy you’d been pining over for years.

“And I guess I’m a little confused. When I brought up getting more serious he avoided the conversation and things got awkward. Then he invites me here, it’s all a little confusing. I don’t wanna talk badly about him, I know he’s your best friend and he’s a great guy but- I feel like he’s messing with me.”

“Isabelle, this is our first conversation and I can already tell how good of a person you are. I care about Jungkook too but you’d be crazy to think that hook-ups are all you deserve,” You sigh, “If you want something more, go and find someone willing to give you that.”

And you truly mean that. Sure, you’d had conversations with his past girlfriends like this, and maybe those times you had an ulterior motive when you advised them to go and find someone else, but seeing her sit in front of you so vulnerable, you mean it this time.

She nods, “I’m well into my 20’s, I’ve never had a serious relationship and I want it. I want kids one day. I want it all. How do you do it?”

That makes you laugh.

“Not very successfully. I was engaged, for a while. I broke it off a few months ago. He was a nice guy, he was stable and he was always there, but I never had that feeling you know? That teenage excitement. I never felt that with him.”

Well, that’s not entirely untrue. He never did give you that electric feeling that you’ve always been searching for, you just leave out that only Jungkook seems to give it to you. You’d had endless arguments with Mark where he’d pressed you to just tell him why you weren’t putting your whole heart into it. He could always tell that he was far more invested than you were, and he knew the reason why. He knew exactly what, or who, was stopping you from fully committing to him. He hadn’t blamed you as you left him, he understood that you just don’t pick who you love.

When everyone starts piling in from the garden, you excuse yourself into helping an almost frozen Taehyung warm up.

Jungkook can’t bear the sight. You carefully take off Tae’s hat and scarf as you rub his arms in an attempt to warm him up while he watches you far too lovingly. He’d rather retreat upstairs to his room and let his head spin with the image of you and Tae and the worry of what you and Isabelle had been talking about while he slips further and further into madness. He doesn’t expect you to follow though, bumping into you in the hallway.

“Hey,” you start, “can we talk?”

“About what?” He’s still pulling on a fresh sweater as you stand in front of him in the quiet hallway. All the noise of the house is coming from downstairs and he worries you can hear his heartbeat in the quiet up here.

“What are you doing with Isabelle?”

That catches him off guard and he frowns down at you. “What do you mean?”

“Don’t you think it’s unfair messing with her like that? I’m only saying this as your friend, she’s such a nice girl. What exactly are you doing?”

“I don’t understand what you’re insinuating?”

You cross your arms. It’s one of his more frustrating traits, pretending he doesn’t understand when he doesn’t want to talk about something.

“Jungkook.” You deadpan.

He runs a hand through his hair, “No, I’m sorry, I don’t understand why you’re interfering with my love life. I don’t know what she said to you but what we have right now is working perfectly fine.”

You scoff, loudly. How very rich of him, to criticise you for interfering when that’s all he’s done to you your whole life, interfere with every guy you’ve ever liked. “Seriously? You wanna talk about interfering?”

He laughs dryly, looking away from you. He knows you’re right. All he can do is attempt to deflect.

“I didn’t interfere with you and Mark. I never did, I told you how I felt. It’s different.”

“What and you think I was able to just carry on after that confession? You think I brushed that off like it was nothing?”

“Sure seemed like it.”

Now he’s just being hurtful, and he knows it. He can see it in your eyes. Whenever he’s mean to you, you get a look. Eyes glossy and eyebrows peaked in confusion.

“That’s not fair Jungkook.”

“What’s fair about any of this?” His voice is louder now and you pray everyone downstairs isn’t listening in on the conversation, especially not the girl he brought here. “What was fair about you turning me away that night? Do you think it was easy for me to see you with him? It was fucking horrible, okay? I hated every second you were with him. Now today you’re hanging off of Tae’s arm. So excuse me if I’m not being fair, I’m not exactly having a nice time right now.”

Tears threaten to spill down your cheeks and you mentally scold yourself for being so damn emotional. You know he can see right through you right now. He stands with a hand on his hip, looking like he’s mad at you and you hate it. You hate it so much that your face tells him just how much you hate it.

He continues, a little softer this time, “I just mean that maybe I’m not exactly over what happened, okay? You didn’t even hear me out. You dropped me from your life. That’s hard to get over and I’m- I don’t know.”

“I had to drop you Jungkook. There was no chance of me having a successful relationship with you in my life.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

You’re exasperated now, frustrated that you have to spell everything out for him. This time your voice is louder. “God, every single boyfriend I’ve ever had has hated you. You have literally ruined all of my relationships and you don’t even realise it. I couldn’t physically bring myself to commit to anybody with you looming over me, always like a damn question mark in my head, okay?”

Truthfully, he had no idea you felt like that. He’s always been pretty poor at picking up on hints and cues and he completely missed that. He always felt that you meant so much more to him than he meant to you. You went about your life and your relationships just fine while he sat at home and yearned for you, that’s what he had thought up until now.

“What?” Is all he can manage.

“How am I supposed to be with other people when you’re always a possibility? As soon as I think I’m finally over you, you come back and-”

“Over me?” He steps towards you, like a reflex at your words. “What do you mean over me?”

“You know what I mean.” You’re practically whispering now. It’s somehow embarrassing to be so vulnerable and you feel even more sympathy towards the Jungkook who turned up at your door and confessed to you now that you’re in his place.

“You never even told me you liked me, now you’re telling me you’re over me?”

“How could I tell you Jungkook? I was engaged.”

His head is a complete mess, spinning and cartwheeling.

“You’re telling me that that night, when I told you I loved you, you didn’t turn me away because you didn’t feel the same?”

“No!” You shake your head, “I thought it was so obvious, how was it not obvious to you? I turned you away because breaking one guy's heart was easier than breaking two. If I told you I felt the same, Mark would have left. That’s why I had to leave him because it wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair being with him when I’m in love with someone else, okay?”

He’s completely silent. Just staring down at you. There’s a lot he wants to say, years and years worth of things, but his brain can’t even string two words together. Maybe he is stupid, but he never thought that you felt the same. Of course, he considered it a possibility, but a far-fetched one. Hearing you say that you love him doesn’t even feel real, he’s not even sure if he’s awake right now.

“You love me?”

“Yes. And you’ve moved on and I know that’s my fault because I missed my chance to tell you I felt the same but-”

He cuts off your rambling, “I haven’t. Moved on I mean. Not at all.”

“You invited a girl. Obviously, you have, and that’s fine.”

Now he has that desperate look again, bottom lip tucked between his teeth as his eyes dart across your face. “We’re not serious. I’m in love with someone else.”

It’s your turn for your head to spin. Sure, he’d said it once before, but you never expected he’d still feel the same way. It’s weird, how you two always seem to pull together. No matter how bad of a time it is, it’s like you can’t stay away from each other. Even now with your faces inches apart, you’re spiked with the horrible feeling that you’re doing something bad. Even if he’s not serious with her, it’s not right for her to be sitting downstairs while he’s up here with you, yet again confessing his love.

“What’s going on with you and Taehyung?” He says quietly.

You reply far too quickly, “Nothing. Was trying to make you jealous.”

That’s enough for him and he steps impossibly closer again. He sucks in a sharp breath, looking down at your face as if he’s weighing up whether or not this is a bad decision. The little devil on his shoulder wins because he’s grabbing your face and crashing his lips on yours. It’s hungry and desperate the way he kisses you like he can’t bear not being on your lips for a second longer. You melt into him as you wrap your arms around his neck and deepen the kiss. You can taste just how sweet this moment is and you savour every second of his vulnerability.

“Bad idea” You mumble onto his lips as his hands move from your face to wrap themselves around your waist and pull you flush against him.

“Don’t care.” He replies, pulling back for a second to catch his breath. You pull him back in, afraid that if he has even a second to think this through you might lose him, but he kisses like he wouldn’t dream of letting you go. He lets none of you go to waste and it’s a dance of tangled breaths as he finally softens, slowing down a little. He pulls away again, looking at you for a while before planting a small kiss on your mouth, pulls away, and plants another one. You feel winded, you’re out of breath, your lips a little swollen and your chest heaves slowly with an endearing warmth that you swear you’ve never felt before. It’s Jimin calling your name from the bottom of the stairs that makes you both jump and pull away from each other.

“We should probably go down.” He breathes out, scratching the back of his head. It’s so charming, how he kisses you like you’re the last meal he’ll ever have and almost immediately regresses into his shy self the minute he pulls away. His cheeks are dusted red and his lips are covered with your pink, smudged around his mouth and down his chin a little.

“You have lipstick all over you.” You point out, giggling quietly.

“Oh shit. Get it off.”

#jungkook fic #jungkook x reader #bts #bts fic #bts x reader #jungkook smut #jungkook #jeon jungkook #bangtan #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #jungkook fanfic #jungkook x you #fanfic #fanfiction

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bigfatbimbo · 2 months

Note

You told us to talk about lucifer! I have a silly little thing in store

Morning sex after a night of of drinking and comforting him about how guilty he feels for all of his wrongs and his fear that it was his fault that lilith left him, but with a twist, because it goes from sweet to degrading about how pathetic he is;

Tie him up, as a treat.

Bite him, for dessert.

Something about him makes me want to be so mean. His deeply melancholic tragic aura has me hooked. I need to see what he fucks up in his life next and tell him how stupid he is for fumbling the bag AGAIN.

I may elaborate further under enough peer pressure, but I'd like to hear your thoughts＼(^^)／

This idea was brought to you by collective moot insanity and a very good nap. You know who you are.

OH MY GODDD PRIMMM this is so fucking delicious.

The switch up would literally end himmmmm like— one moment your being so kind and comforting and barely a morning later your bullying him too tears while you ride his dick.

You going from kinda words like ‘good boy’ ‘sweet baby’ and ‘pretty boy’ to harsher more ruthless words, while you start to ride him faster.

‘pathetic’ ‘whore’ ‘useless slut’ as venom sinks into your voice. He doesn’t understand! What did he do wrong? Had he been bad? Without having anything to do, his face would scrunch up and get red, starting to cry profusely.

He’d act so sad about it, “Why— why are you being s-so mean to me?” he would say through sobs, whining as you slam your cunt onto his dick.

You’d simply laugh at him and tease him for getting so worked up, calling him a pathetic crybaby.

God, he is so yummy when he’s being bullied.

Also I am peerpressuring you right now to elaborate further 🙏🙏 can’t garnered a full fic (hense this) but GOD this is good.

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel smut #hazbin hotel lucifer #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer x reader #dom reader #inbox open

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ist4rgirlo · 8 months

Note

DO TRAITOR BY OLIVIA RODRIGO WITH CONRAD

──────── 𝐢 𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮’𝐫𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐲 - 𝐜.𝐟

ONESHOT !

summary: you and conrad recently broke up and you just saw him on a date with your best friend.

warning: angst, mentions of break up, crying (LMK IF I MISSED ANYTHING)

It's been two weeks since me and Conrad broke up. It wasn't a good breakup. It was a breakup that started with a fight and ended with parting ways. I wouldn't say that I was the best girlfriend, but I was there for him when no one else was.

One day, everything just changed. He wouldn't look at me the same anymore, touch me the same. I thought that it was just that he was having a hard time because of his mom's passing. I did everything to understand him, I became his rock, someone he could lean on.

Brown guilty eyes and little white lies

Yeah, I played dumb but I always knew

I just ignored it and tried to act like everything was still the same. But I could feel the distance growing between us. He was always on his phone whenever we would go out, He wouldn't talk to me like he used to and avoided my questions. I knew something wasn't right, but I didn't want to admit it. I was scared to confront him and find out what was really going on.

Ain't it funny

All the twisted games

All the questions you used to avoid?

That's where it all started. I confronted him. It started with him saying that he was going to change, for the better, for us.

Ain't it funny?

Remember I brought it up

And you told me I was paranoid

Then it became to little fights because he couldn't keep his promise, he told me I was paranoid, I tried to talk to him, I asked him to be truthful and honest with me, but he kept denying and avoiding it.

We argued until it became too much, and I decided to end it. I told him that I was done with it and that I had enough. He just looked at me and walked away. He just turned and didn't even try to fight for what we had. That was the last time I saw him.

Ever since that breakup, his best friend Steven has been helping me to move on. Even before me and Conrad started dating, me and Steven were already friends, he was even the one who introduced us to each other.

Steven has been a source of comfort and support throughout the entire process. Even during me and Conrad's dating phase, Steven was there for me, no matter how bad things got.

He was the type to not always tolerate his bestfriend's actions. He was someone who always defended me from Conrad.

I asked him to accompany me to do groceries, since this was probably the first time I went out after the break up. I didn't know If I could do it myself alone so Steven suggested that he should come with me.

I thought that I was somehow okay now, that some wounds had healed already not until I saw Conrad, my ex-boyfriend, in the store. I froze and couldn't say a word. I thought he was alone, just doing his normal errands not until a girl came up to him, clinging on his arm. I moved a little just to see that girl's face.

You'd talk to her

When we were together

Loved you at your worst

But that didn't matter

My heart dropped. It was my best friend, the one who knew everything.

She was also the one who told me that I didn't deserve how Conrad was treating me, but now here she is with him. I watched in disbelief as they laughed and walked away, leaving me standing there with my heart in my hands.

It took you two weeks

To go off and date her

Guess you didn't cheat

But you're still a traitor

I felt betrayed, I felt angry, I felt stupid. So many questions popped into my head like why was it so fast? why me? why my best friend? I wanted answers, but I knew I wasn't going to get them. I felt like I had been played and I was so hurt. I was determined to never trust anyone again.

I just stood there until I felt Steven's hand on my back, I looked up to him. He saw everything, his eyes filled with anger, anger for his best friend. He held me close and said, “I’m sorry.” I knew he wanted to help me, but there was nothing he could do.

I looked away, ashamed. I couldn't bear to see his pity, so I stepped away from him and said, “It's okay, I'll be fine.” He nodded sadly and we both knew I was lying. I turned to go, but he grabbed my hand and said, “Wait.” He held my gaze and said, “You don't have to do this alone.” His words were like a lifeline, and I finally allowed myself to break down and cry.

He held me tightly until I stopped sobbing, then let go. He looked at me with a gentle expression and said, "Remember, I'm here for you." I felt a warmth inside me that I hadn't felt for a long time - the feeling of being understood and supported. I nodded and smiled, feeling a weight lift off my shoulders. He was just glad that he was there for me, he would do everything just to pick those pieces of my heart and bring them again all together.

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dannyphantom-zero · 21 days

Text

Doctor Danny Chapter 8

Vlad managed to squeak out of the situation with a cash fine and Lex Luther was supposed to be under surveillance. Despite being "victims", experimenting or holding a citizen, albeit a meta, was still illegal.

Danny however was currently with the justice league. They had brought him to a hospital but there wasn't much they could do for him there after discovering Danny had strange abnormalities with his DNA and heartbeat.

Jason sat by Danny's unconscious body while everyone tried to figure out what to do with the situation.

"Why didn't you tell me your boyfriend was a meta human Jason?!" Bruce demanded.

Jason looked shocked at first which quickly turns to anger.

"Are you kidding me?! First of all, when did we have such a close relationship? Because lately we could only manage a small conversation. Secondly I didn't know myself" Jason bit back the anger billowing inside him.

"He's got unknown powers and now Lex Luther knows about him" Superman said with a serious tone.

"who was that other guy?" The flash asked.

"Vladimir Masters, billionaire former mayor of Amity Park" Bruce said.

Jason didn't look at any of them, his guilty gaze fell on Danny.

"He's, how can we even tell if he's going to be alright?" Jason said.

The room fell into silence.

"Have faith Jason, that's all you can do"

Jason clentched his fist.

"I don't think so, I'm going to find another way" Jason stood up.

He locked eyes with Superman, "dont let him out of your sight. He's a prestigious doctor. He's important-"

Jason walked out, "he's important, to me"

Superman sat in the vacant chair and tried his best to use his own powers to figure out Danny's condition. There wasn't much medical data on Danny to begin with so they weren't sure what we considered normal for him. More than once superman had been sure Danny's heart had stopped, yet he was still alive somehow.

Bruce had conflicted feelings about the good doctor. Jason trusted him, then again Jason was a murdering crime lord out for revenge.

He knew Jason and Doctor Daniel had a special relationship, after all, one doesn't usually cripple people for just a friend.

Joker had yet to recover.

Back in the bat cave Jason was taking full advantage of the access to the oicie records. It was harder than he thought it would be to get information on Danny because he wasn't born in Gotham but he eventually found a lead.

According to the hospital records paired with surveillance cameras outside the city, courtesy of Tim, Jason found that Danny had come from Illinois.

There was also that girl, Sam was it? Did she know his secret? She had to know something right?

Tim glanced over at Jason's screen.

"Oh that's the lead of that startup band Twisted Vines." Tim commented.

Jason's head snapped towards Tim so fast he almost counted it as a jump scare.

"Do you know where they'll be playing next?!"

Tim pulled out his phone.

"They have an app, let's see...seems like their doing a gig at Croscee's Pub tonight"

Jason stood up.

"I'm going to that and your coming with me"

Tim was grinning from ear to ear. So cool!

Later that night Jason and Tim in civilian outfits made their way to the bar. The band had already started playing judging by the muffled music pounding through the wall.

Jason opened the door and maneuvered through the crowd of people before resting in a corner.

Tim on the other hand has made his way to he front and was avidly cheering the band on.

Jason was growing slightly pissed off. Danny was counting on him and the best he could do was watch this stupid concert.

The music eventually ended and the crowd of people tried to swarm the band but security held them at bay.

Jason had other means, he snuck into their bus.

The band members were obviously shocked to see a stranger sitting in their tour bus.

"Jason??" Sam asked. They relaxed, if Sam knew this person than it was probably alright.

"What are you doing here?"

Jason stood up.

"It's Danny, we need your help. Danny's not waking up"

Sam motioned for then to go outside.

"He was attacked by Vlad Masters and Lex Luther"

Sam clentched her teeth, "Vlad"

When she noticed the look on Jason's face she explained, "Vlad wanted to get with Danny's mom and kill his dad. He also cloned Danny several times. One time he was successful."

Jason could feel the pits bubble up in his chest.

"I need to see him. That's the only way I can tell you"

"I brought a car"

Sam nodded, "give me a minute" she said before climbing back onto the bus.

Tim ran up to Jason, "did you talk to her yet? What did she say?" He asked.

"Alright, I'm good to go" she said slinging a couple of her bags over her shoulder.

Tim's mouth went wide open.

"So cool" he whispered.

The car ride there Jason went into more detail.

Bruce was a little surprised that the answers Jason had went to find were in the formation of some rock punk.

Sam was admiring the space when she caught sight of Danny. She dropped her bags and ran over.

"How long has it been?"

"A couple days."

"Do you know what they injected him with? What about the state he was in when you found him?"

"He was injected with a drug that I don't recognize in the system or otherwise" Bruce said handing her the tablet.

Sams expression darkened, "blood blossoms, fucking bastards"

"He was extremely agitated but Jason managed to calm him down just before he fainted"

Sam handed back the tablet.

"Blood Blossoms are extremely harmful to gh- to people like Danny"

"No matter what I need everyone in this room to swear an oath not to say anything about Danny's condition. I know someone who can help him but I need you all to ask as little questions as possible"

"Where do you have to go?"

"Illinois"

"Take the jet" Bruce said. Jason nodded.

"And here, this is the contact of a friend who can give you a log of Danny's normal condition and what to do if he takes a turn for the worst."

It was Tuckers contact. Jason and Sam left and Bruce got on the contact.

Tucker had become a software engineer for AmerTek Industries in Metropolis.

Flash said he would pick him up and left before anyone could object.

Tucker had been finishing up a report on a new robot the company was in the planning stages of creating, next thing Tucker knew he was in the arms of somebody going at incredibly fast speeds to somewhere.

"Oh" is all he said when they filled him in.

"Sams already on it huh" he sisd with a nervous smile.

"She always so on top of things"

"She told us we could find his medical information with you"

Tucker blinked, "oh yeah! We had to create an updated version. After the accident Danny couldn't get checked by normal doctors anymore. Thank ancients his parents were so oblivious-" Tucker stopped talking when he saw their faces.

"Did Sam not tell you about that? Maybe I've said too much. In any case if there's something you don't understand, let me know"

He handed over the digital file on Danny.

Not even two seconds later Bruce was grilling Tucker on what ectoplasm was and what machine caused this to happen.

There was also a detailed report on what devices the Fenton's had made and how they interacted with Danny.

"What's this page?" Tim asked scrolling onto the page filled with a list of all the ghosts Danny had fought and their abilities.

"I,uhm, well I don't think I should-"

Tucker shrank under Batmans judgmental stare.

"Sams going to skin me alive for this but, I suppose I should tell you everything"

The heroes listened, stunned at the words coming out of Tuckers mouth.

Not only had they not known about the mad "ghost hunting" scientists. They also had known about the portal to the infinite realms.

They were even more shocked when he told them Danny had been crowned king.

"He was a teenage superhero and we were his support team"

Tucker smiled, "nows he's still saving lives. Danny really is something else"

Bruce had went to eh next room to brood over his failure to see all of this whole Supes glumly accepted the fact that he couldn't have done anything without knowing.

"You guys don't need to be so down about it. Any transmissions Danny tried to get to you guys was most definitely being blocked by Vlad and his fancy equipment"

Clark shook his head.

"So Vlad and Danny have history" Flash said.

"Yeah, deep history. In fact. Vlad shares Danny's condition. They're both liminals"

Tucker scowled, "he's literally a villain. Danny's been dealing with this guy for years."

"I can't imagine being a fourteen year old hero"

A glum look passed over Tuckers face.

"We, haven't talked in a while. But I should've tried. I knew he was going through something rough. It was hard for him. Didn't help that he was bullied either. Danny too nice for his own good"

"For now, all we can do is monitor his condition. Have faith in your friend"

Tucker nodded. Danny would wake up. He was sure of it.

#danny phantom #danny fenton #dc universe #batman #redhood #dpxdc #fanfiction #jason todd #phandom #TuckerFoley #sam manson #clark kent #Superman #Flash #frostbite #Ghosts

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espinosaurusrexex · 1 year

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Hey!

Could we do tending to wounds after a fight w/ Bucky please?🥺

I can't explain it but this drabble brought me so much peace. I like it a lot ❤️ thank you for requesting it and thank you for all your support 🥰

Tending to Woulds after a Fight (Bingo Game)

!BINGO ASKS CLOSED!

BuckyBarnes x Reader

word count: ~900 (a smol boi)

warnings: mentions of blood and injury, Bucky feeling guilty, so so much fluff

Bucky huffed as the two of you opened the door to the safe house. It was quite nice compared to the ones he’d been in before. Of course, Tony Stark wouldn’t even spare a penny when it came to secret hideouts, not even in the middle of nowhere.

You followed closely behind Bucky, a hand pressed to your thigh, where a blood-soaked cloth was tightly tied around a knife wound.

“Sit,” Bucky demanded before he roamed the cabinets for medical supplies.

You did as you were told, biting back a hiss when the table beneath your legs shifted the pressure of the makeshift bandage. It was no one’s fault, really. The attackers had come out of nowhere, surprising even Natasha who had eyes on the radar at all times. And because of the thick walls of the bunker, she wasn’t able to tell you through the comms in time.

Bucky was back with a box of supplies that he put down next to you. Quick to rip open the cut on your pants further, he began to drench the wound in alcohol. Another hiss pulled from your lips. He wasn’t careful enough, Bucky knew that. But his hands were shaking. He hated to see you hurt... hurt because of him.

“Ow, careful please,” you spoke through your teeth.

“Sorry.”

“’s alright.” Your hands laid on his - calming, warm.

Bucky took a deep breath and closed his eyes for a second. Had he not asked you to come with him on the stupid mission - a mission he had called to life after finding out about the base which harbored hydra weaponry - you wouldn’t be bleeding out right now.

“It’s not your fault,” you reminded firmly after recognizing Bucky’s look. It was the face he’d always make when he punished himself - most times for something that was out of his control. But sadly, Bucky had a difficult relationship with control. He couldn’t distinguish outside forces from his own, or he didn’t want to - a habit he’d adapted after having been responsible for so much pain and violence in the past.

He looked at you. “I still don’t like seeing you hurt.”

You just nodded silently when Bucky got to work again. He was a lot calmer now. Your gentle reminders always helped him relax. He stitched the wound up quickly, now slightly hunching over the table as he sorted the kit back.

That’s when you saw it. Bucky had ignored it, taunted by the guilt that threatened to swallow him if he stopped, but the decent-sized cut on his chest dipped the gray shirt beneath his opened combat jacket in deep red.

Your hand pulled on the zipper. “You’re hurt.”

“I’m fine.”

“Bucky.” A scolding look.

“I’m okay. I’m good.” He moved to shake you off but brushed the wound instead and the little stutter in his movement along with the clench of his jaw betrayed the stoic attempt.

“You’re not fine, Buck. Let me help.”

“You’re hurt.”

“And why should I be the only one taken care of?”

He looked away. Slowly, you moved off the table and turned Bucky with you by his shoulders until he was the one positioned as you had just been. One leg supporting your stance and the injured one lightly tapping the ground, you searched the box for the disinfectant again.

But as Bucky noticed how difficult it was for you to balance on your good leg, he gently pulled you between his legs, one land lingering on your waist to steady you. You looked at him for a moment, watched as his other hand casually rested on the table, and secretly wished it were on your body instead.

“I’m sorry,” Bucky suddenly confessed, averting his eyes when the drenched cotton was pulled from his torso.

“You don’t have to punish yourself anymore, you know? You never did.” The words rolled over your tongue and Bucky just squeezed your waist in response.

“But I do. I can never make this up.”

You leaned back, hand resting on his shoulder as his began to draw slow strokes on the skin beneath your top. “It’s not for you to make up.” You whispered, forehead leaning against his in the intimate moment you shared.

“Then why does it feel that way?” His voice was breaking with tears when he asked the question that occupied his mind so many times before. He had fallen lost in the feeling of uncertainty trying to answer it on his own.

“Because you’ve been made to believe.” But you had the answer ready, as always, a soothing reminder to stop beating himself up every once in a while.

Bucky nodded weakly when you got to cleaning his injury, one hand always lingering on his skin and it calmed his heartbeat completely. He watched as you worked on the cut, taking care of him like no one else had ever done and he fell back into a state of awe - familiar almost because it always happened when you were around him.

You stuck a big band-aid on his chest when you were done, but your hand lingered on the heated patch of skin.

“All done,” you whispered when Bucky’s eyes captured you once again. He did that often, but you wouldn’t complain.

“Thank you,” he responded just as carefully, his other hand coming to wrap around you until he hugged you fully, his head buried in your chest and your hands stroking over his hair.

You stayed that way for a while, just gently soothing hands up and down, breaths syncing - calm, and somehow... finally at peace.

Wanna be added to the tgalist?

@almosttoopizza @sociallyimpairedme @royalwritersoftheuniverses @i-l-y-3000 @mrsgweasley @prettylittlepluviophile @dinwifey @stuckysgirl27 @wintermischief @supersecretblogformytreasures @broadwaybabe18 @circe143 @valkyrie418 @mirikusashes @noideawhyimdoingthislol @nikkitc0703 @lethallyprotected @erynnnn @misshale21 @wattpaduser200 @buckyseddie

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aphrogeneias · 3 months

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ill kiss you if you write prompt 21) You need help tying the back of your dress/fixing your cufflinks, and my fingers keep scraping against your skin. How are you so warm? And how are you acting like I’m not right behind/in front of you? with old money!steve <3

old money!steve harrington x fem!reader + you need help tying the back of your dress/fixing your cufflinks, and my fingers keep scraping against your skin. how are you so warm? and how are you acting like i’m not right behind/in front of you?

warnings: very brief feelings of inadequacy from the reader at the end. childhood friends to lovers. totally inspired by joe keery's outfit at the critics choice awards.

Watching Steve simply exist in your small, one room apartment will never get old.

He's sitting on the lid of your toilet, right next to your bright floral shower curtain, and the silly artwork of a bunch of dogs in a bathtub you had framed right above it. Your friend looks even bigger, and taller, in your cramped bathroom, but right at home with your perfumes and lotions and trinkets.

The unusual touch was the suit he was wearing, which was probably worth more than a whole year of rent. The dinner jacket and the dress pants fit perfectly, the white dress shirt underneath hugging his broad frame, a couple of buttons undone to show his chest, adorned with a simple silver chain.

You weren't supposed to look, but your eyes wandered anyway. They wandered through his body, through his face, the slope of his nose, the freckles smattering his skin.

You couldn't help but feel guilty, at times. Steve had been like a sibling to you, the son your mother never had. The Harringtons’ kid, the one she babysat during the week and brought you with her to their big house, too big and too empty for your liking, even as a child.

The two of you played together in their living room, avoiding all the expensive furniture and his mother’s art collection, as your mom would make dinner in the kitchen. You'd spend the summers in their pool, chasing each other with water guns and noodle floaties. You, because you had nowhere else to go, and Steve, because he'd rather be home than travel with his squabbling parents.

Years had passed and nothing really changed. You still hung out and spent the summers together, but you saw Steve through different eyes. No longer the overconfident little boy who likes to hold your hand while you ran and challenge you to do stupid things just to make him laugh, but the man he had become.

Still confident, but earnest and caring. Sweet, even, on his best moments. Your Stevie, your best friend.

Steve, who's now currently watching you go in and out of your bathroom, applying the finishing touches on your makeup, and squeezing into the red dress he'd brought you, while he complained about his college friends.

You chimed in from your bedroom, “They can't be worse than Tommy and Carol, at least.”

He scoffed. “Well, the bar is in hell, then!”

Holding the front part of your strapless dress to your chest with one hand, you prop yourself to the door frame with the other. “I'm glad you finally realized. Now, zip me up, pretty boy.”

If you hadn't been blunt, you'd lose your courage. You'd been trying to close the dress yourself in your room, panicking over it, but realized you wouldn't be able to do it alone. You need another pair of hands, and they're right there.

You miss the blush rising on Steve’s cheeks, after you turn around. It doesn't take long until you feel him standing behind you, the warmth from his body rising a chill up your naked spine. His fingers trail your back first, trying to tickle you.

Slapping his hand away, you chastise him, but you're warm all over now. “Stop, you idiot! We're already late.”

“Sorry! I'm sorry.” Then, he catches your zipper between his fingers, and slowly moves it up, up, up until it's secure at the top. You can still feel the back of his fingers trailing up your back when it's closed, and he puts his hands to your shoulders, moving you to stand in front of your bathroom mirror. “There. The prettiest girl at the party.”

“We're not even there yet. Don't get your hopes up.”

“Well, I know you will be.” He hugs your waist, setting his hands on your tummy, and resting his head on your shoulder. Looking at the two of you in the mirror, you could almost be mistaken for a couple. Young and in love. You sigh.

“You know I'm hardly plus one material, right? I don't… I don't really belong there.” You raise your hand to his hair, messing it up a little. The silver bracelet on your wrist glints in the fluorescent light.

“You belong wherever I am, with me.” Steve’s smile is almost sad on the reflection. “Don’t overthink it. It’ll be over before we know it, ‘kay?”

“‘kay.”

The phantom feeling of his fingers on your back stays with you all night, even when they're intertwined with yours, and even when they find your thigh under the table, as Mr. Harrington gives his guests a speech.

#waiting for that kiss anon #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington fanfic

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lollytea · 1 year

Text

Okay okay okay so my thoughts are a little jumbled right now so I'm not very coherent but I need to blabber about this one element of huntlow in For the Future that's got me going off the rails. It's the way in which they both take initiative in their interactions with each other, specifically how it differs with both Willow and Hunter.

There's a bit of a vibe in a lot of huntlow content that puts emphasis on Willow's confidence and Hunter's shyness, so she's the one who talks, who flirts, who acts, who gets the ball rolling. Meanwhile, Hunter clearly reciprocates and enjoys her attention but allows her to take the lead, rather than initiate anything himself. And this interpretation is perfectly fine. It's cute!! And Thanks to Them kinda gave us the impression that it wouldn't be that unlikely.

But the scenes involving them in For the Future were SO good. As an interesting subversion of the point above, it's actually Willow who's become the more uncertain one in their dynamic. As a contrast to how she comforts Gus when he tears up, Willow is rather hands-off when it comes to Hunter. It's likely because she understands that what he needs right now is space to process his grief, but in addition to that, she might be at a complete loss on how to help him. Because what could she possibly say? Willow can promise Gus that she'll find his Dad, she can assure Camila that things with Luz will be alright, but she can't bring Flapjack back. And even at this point in the episode, this may have been adding to her steadily escalating feelings of stress and helplessness. ("I can't help my friends...")

Willow feels like she keeps fucking up when it comes to Hunter. When she allowed herself that brief moment of childish indulgence by being silly with the plants, which resulted in Hunter snapping at her? Oh the way her smile dropped and she looked utterly devastated. She must have felt so guilty, so ashamed, so frustrated with herself for being so stupid and goofing off when her friend was severely hurting. And it's not like he was wrong for saying they didn't have time for this. But in typical Willow fashion, she shoved those feelings down and put on a smile for Gus.

There's no implication of it but I wonder if she also felt like an idiot for letting her emotions get the better of her when she saw that puppet of her Dad. She put herself in harm's way, forcing Hunter to charge after her and pull her to safety. Do you think she wonders if he was annoyed by that? Maybe that was eating away at her too. She's trying to be level-headed and reliable but it seems like she keeps slipping up. And Hunter is always there to witness it.

Of course, Willow didn't stop trying. Though she may have felt a bit rejected and disliked by him at the time, Willow still made the effort to look out for Hunter in any way that she could. She suggested they go outside and keep him company while he was pacing himself into the ground. And later on, she lit up with delight when she found something that she believed would comfort him.

And then she expressed, in her typical warm Willowy way, that they loved him unconditionally. She didn't have the perfect words to make everything okay. She was just being herself. Willow took a chance with this boy she didn't know how to help and simply said what she felt, hoping it would give him some semblance of solace.

But being herself wasn't good enough. At least not in Willow's eyes. She already had fragile confidence in regards to Hunter's current opinion of her but ohhhh the deafening silence that followed after she had bared her heart to him. The way she brought him to tears, leading her to believe she had rubbed salt in the wound. The way Luz had to gently intervene to make sure he was alright and Willow felt like sinking into the floor. How Hunter's quiet little "I....don't know..." speared her through. All of those things pushing her to her breaking point. She's made everything worse. Because that's what Half-a-Witch Willow does.

Hunter's perceived opinion of her is utterly deteriorating Willow's self confidence and it's the thing that results in her self loathing inflicted descent into thorny vines. She's in denial at first, still struggling to hold it together, still insisting that she can grasp hold of some facade. The pitchy and nervous tone of voice as Hunter appears on the scene and she desperately feigns nonchalance. She knows deep down that her magic is spiralling out of control but she cannot let him know. She cannot let him see her like this. And with this added anxiety of Hunter's presence, the vines only get worse.

Meanwhile, when it comes to Hunter, he is not idle by any means. He takes a proactive role in almost all of his significant moments with Willow.

Obviously, Hunter is a protector. He shields his friends from physical harm. He's especially paranoid about them getting hurt now after what happened to Flapjack because he can't lose them too. This paranoia, in addition to his overwhelming grief and recent trauma, has made Hunter high strung and irritable. Keeping his friends alive is his priority right now. Because of this, their emotional needs and how his snappish behavior is affecting them, is understandably the furthest thing from his mind.

But once he realizes that he's hurt Willow's feelings? Oh he looks completely shattered. The way Gus runs out the door to find her and Hunter murmurs "Wait..." before he rushes after both of them, calling out their names, begging for them to come back. There's none of the hesitation that Willow demonstrates with him, only loud desperation. What does he even intend to say to Willow? Who knows. Honestly, I don't think Hunter knows either. But it's not about that. It doesn't matter if Hunter has no idea what he's gonna say once he catches up with her. What matters is that he's running after her at all. He knows one thing and it's that he has to do something.

And that's what Hunter continues to do from that point. Something.

When he finds her tangled up in her own vines, mentally and emotionally unraveling, Gus hanging in distress above their heads, he's immediately asking her to explain, concerned and alarmed. When Willow's feigned cheerful demeanour shows its cracks and the vines start to ensnare Hunter, the last thing he does before he's fully bound is take a step towards the obviously overwhelmed and frightened Willow and try to reach out for her. Again, what was he planning to do? What was he gonna say? He probably had no idea. His actions were likely instinctive. But the fact that trying to provide some form of comfort to Willow was an instinctive response from him speaks volumes about their relationship. He's not going to stand around and do nothing while she's upset. Even if he's bad with words and emotions, he's always gonna try. She's worth trying for.

Cannot stress this enough but by the time her vines begin to consume her, Willow has probably convinced herself that Hunter's high regard for her has completely plummeted. Because why wouldn't it? This is, without a doubt, Willow at her most pathetic. But during this moment of complete wretchedness and self destruction, Hunter is the one who acts.

He bursts out of the vines and bundles her up in his arms. His hands press down on her shoulders and he frantically assures her that she's not to blame for any of this and she didn't ruin anything. He eases her anxieties by vocally expressing just how much he cares about her. He begs her not to be so mean to herself. And then, with desolate eyes and a soft gentle voice, he asks if she's been holding all this in the whole time.

He wants an answer. He wants her to talk to him. He wants her to tell him what's wrong so he can try to help. He wants to listen. And he's taking the initiative to get there.

And Willow's completely stunned face upon hearing all of this shows just how overgrown her insecurities had become, leading her to become entangled in the worst possible conclusion. She was now receieving affection and loving words from none other than the boy who she fully believed had lost patience with her for constantly messing everything up. The way the first tears pricked and her mouth wobbled when that soft gentle voice expressed concern for her, seconds before the dam inevitably burst. It was all a little too much for her I think.

Also can I talk about the little finger link?? I've been dying to talk about the little finger link!!!!

Everything about how that scene is executed is so sweet to me. Willow, though she's a lot more reassured over where she stands with Hunter, is still a little unsure on how to approach this. She doesn't hold his whole hand. No, that might be a bit much. For both Hunter and herself. Let's start smaller. Less nerve racking.

Of course, if she's still so hesitant, she doesn't have to touch him at all. But she wants to. She really wants to have physical contact with him in some capacity right now, even if it's as tentative as could be. In holding his hand, Willow would be making a rather bold statement. But in linking pinkies, it's more like she's asking a question. Is this okay?

She's clearly a bit unsure. Noticeably not looking at the touch, eyes locked on her feet before she speaks. But as unsure as it is, I think she's pretty brave for doing it at all.

What gets me is that what Hunter said left such an impact on her that she was compelled to thank him. She was grateful to be told that she didn't ruin everything. She had wanted to be told that she meant something to him. Even though she wasn't aware of it, she's realized that hearing those words took a huge weight off her chest. Willow could breathe again. She could see him a little clearer now. And she would like to tell him just how much those words meant to her. Just how much he meant to her.

This is the moment where Hunter silently answers Willow's question. He's choked up, he's nervous, he's overwhelmed, but in spite of all that, he still takes initiative.

In linking their pinkies, Willow is asking Is this okay?

And when Hunter deliberately presses the back of his hand against hers, he's answering her question. It's more than okay.

Anyway Hunter being proactive in almost all of the huntlow scenes, Willow being the more nervous one between them, neither getting to the point they've gotten to if they didn't each take the lead at different moments. It was all so good.

#toh spoilers #huntlow #long post #me: not making any long posts about my ftf thoughts yet i am tired #me five minutes later:#does this even MAKE SENSE?? like do you understand the point im making???#i feel like im not explaining it thoroughly enough #im tired

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iwaasfairy · 1 year

Text

┌─ “ „ FIXED

tw. cest, bit of degradation but mainly praise, spit, oral fixation, oral, choking, its kinda soft pffff so tw feelings, corruption, hajime gets off on the guilt wordcount. 4.2k

a/n. who's surprised about more cest? exactly no one ♡♡♡ but i missed hajime nii, besides i haven't written nearly enough full length big bro iwa fics FIXED /fikst/ 1. predetermined and not subject to or able to be changed. (adj.) 2. mend or repair. (verb)

iwaizumi hajime x fem!reader

You never really knew that much about boys growing up. That’s just how it went. Hajime started playing volleyball before you were old enough to remember different. Your life was constructed around it. Every practice for him meant no free babysit for your parents, so you were dragged with mom to dance class with other moms. And they brought their equally clueless baby girls, which led to you enrolling in girls related things with girls who related.

You wouldn’t have known about boy’s things, apart from the small circle of cultivated friends Hajime allowed into his space, and yours. It wasn’t on purpose, but the outcome was still the same.

Any and all information you had about boys came straight from Hajime’s mouth, who was older. Compared to clueless you; niichan held the wisdom of a sage. You always clung to his every word, even as he grew bigger. Even as he grew more snappy, sick of dealing with his friends who were stupid boys and did stupid high school boy things. Everything you didn’t know went through niichan. Not ever the other boy spending too much time in your house, because Oikawa was a liar, and niichan would make sure you remembered it.

But you knew certain things too when you saw them, and what small amount you did know— was now rearing it’s ugly head and asking questions.

“Wh—what’s this? What are you watching?” As you shuffle out of the hall with a frown, you hold niichan’s phone away from your body with loose fingertips. Boys might not have cooties anymore in your mind, but everyone talks about how gross boys are. You don’t want to risk it. And Hajime freezes in place like he’s guilty, wide-eyed. It’s brand new. Unusual. Like hitting bullseye on the first throw, tickling your brain from within.

See, Hajime was always bigger than most in your town, athletically built, and prone to using that build full of energy and power to his advantage. That to say, he was always quicker than most to squish you into silence or grab you by the collar instead of using his words when it came to accusations. Your parents weren't around much to scold him for it. It’s what his popular best friend loved to call ‘anger issues’, wait for it to blow up.

And silent, thinly veiled panic isn’t — that.

“Why the hell are you on my phone?” Hajime’s face blanks as he puts down the remote, glances over his shoulder for supervision, and puts on his meanest glare as he scrambles up from the couch. He’d been left on little sister duty all afternoon, and now, you’d gone and made a critical error. Your friends joke about no-goes, but you never really got why ‘messing around on a boy’s phone’ was an issue.

Hajime nii clearly doesn’t agree. His biceps bulge as he crosses his arms over his chest with mouth set in a thin line, and you shuffle in place within arms’ reach of him.

“I’m not on your phone, I just found it like this on your bed.” It’s the truth, you hadn’t meant to find anything. Intent doesn’t matter to your big brother though, because he towers you as he does. It’s the best way you can describe the way he glares you down ice cold, close enough to make your skin break out in goosebumps, waiting for retaliation. If you were any of his guy friends, you’re sure they’d get a solid kick to the shin. The little sister treatment is more mean mugging you until you fidget. “I wasn’t even snooping, I just needed to get a charger,” you tack on, swinging your arms behind your back.

“Give it.”

“No,” you quip back, for no particular reason other than to win the back and forth that always starts like this.

“Give me my phone, before I choose to take it.” His hand sticks out, bigger than yours, and you lean back a little. Usually it’s just empty threats. But sometimes you pick the wrong day to argue back, until you end screaming like a banshee under him like it’s life or death. Niichan’s still young enough where it makes him feel strong not to hold back.

The second ‘no’ sticks in your throat as he leans into your space more, and you can basically taste the natural instinct to roll over before he gets there. But you can’t help yourself. You want answers. You don’t deliver the device as quickly as he wants you to. A single eyebrow raises -an I dare you- deciding whether or not to smack you over the head for your transgression.

And you should know better, but the younger sibling in you aches. You suck your bottom lip. “Why are you watching this?” you grimace as you look at the phone again, unlocking it to reveal the video of a naked girl suckling on what the deadly annoying, high-pitched whine of ‘step brother’ loud through the little phone speaker says is her brother’s… parts. It doesn’t look like anything you’ve ever seen, from the few seconds you watched. But niichan always gets into the bath before you, and you don’t peek. Ever. But judging by the groaning and moaning from the guy, it must be-

Hajime goes bright red in his face as he yanks the phone out of your hands. “Don’t play it, are you fucking stupid?” Your father is still just as busy in his office as he’s been all day, but the way he panics to turn it off would almost make you think differently.

“It’s porn, isn’t it? You’re watching porn.” You’ve heard your friends talk about porn enough to know what it is. You just don’t know why he’s watching it. “Why?”

After clicking out of the tab, your big brother makes a face that’s equal parts fed up, and embarrassed, but he doesn’t give you any of the answers you’re looking for. “Shittykawa sent me that, ’s nothing. Just- fuck, don’t touch my shit again. Or I’ll knock the sense into you, y’hear?”

“But why watch it?”

“You’re dumber than you look if you think I’ll talk to you about-” The last word isn’t even spoken, but it feels like it’s heard just as loud. Your brother watches porn. There’s a pit in your stomach. Because your brother isn’t a liar, but he also isn’t a gossip. And he doesn’t offer up important information until you ask, which always ends with you feeling left out. Late. The overly girly pout of the woman moaning rings in your mind over and over. You’ve never done that stuff to your brother. Instead of helping you out, he hoards info. It makes the hairs on your neck stand up, and you don’t know why.

When he goes to brush past you, you wrap your arms around his waist and cling to him, face to stomach as he tries to walk away. “I’m not done,” you drag out the word, “niichan, stahp-uh. St-aw-aww! You’re hurting me!” You’re really to blame for the way you struggle to hold him in place, and he isn’t one to just fold without a fight. “Niisan~ tell me why! Come on, don’t be annoying. Ughh— don- you’re annoying!” Hajime nii doesn’t just give in. You know that as well as he does.

“Get off!!” His hand is big and warm as it wraps around your neck and he shoves his thigh between your legs, lifted off the floor. You cling on, squeezing hard as he huffs and you use your whole body to try and keep him in place. “Let go of me, brat, fuckin’-uhg- you’re—” You manage to fall back halfway into the couch with Hajime’s weight on top of you in the struggle and bite it, butt landing hard on the floor as he knees you in the shoulder and protects your face just in time. “Idiot, you wanna break your nose over this shit?”

“Why are you looking at that stuff, tell me!” you demand again, through welling up tears this time. “I want to know, or else- Else I’ll ask Oikawa.” He moves just enough to cradle your face and watch you for a second, then blows out a deep breath.

“No, you don’t.” His eyes zero in on yours, and his eyebrows flatten out a little. “You’ve made your point, just stop making a scene.” After running a hand through his spiky tufts of hair, he clicks his tongue. “If I tell you, will you shut up about it?”

Your head bobs up and down quickly, always ready to indulge your brother. “Of course! Promise.” Your voice is extra sweet when you say it.

In turn, Hajime sits back down to make some room for your shoulder as you sink down against the furniture, and look up at him. “Get up from the floor, c’mon-”

“Hajime nii~,” you bristle, crossing your arms over your chest, “just say it.”

You can basically see him think about rolling his eyes, but he fights the urge to instead let out a noncommittal huff, and pats his thigh. “Suit yourself.” You swallow down a sniffle, and rest your head onto the couch. And your niichan’s eyes flick to you again, hesitating. “What d’you want me to- I- If you wanna know why I watched it, it’s- because it feels good. I like it.” Your face must give away your confusion, because he glances over his shoulder again before patting your head and running his fingers through your hair in nerves. “And it is easier for guys to… come if we watch stuff.”

“Like it?” Your lashes tickle against the fabric as you look up at him, not yet satisfied. He’s not getting away with a measly little explanation like that. “But what was the girl doing?” Niichan’s chest rumbles softly with the deep breath he takes, pulling his fingers down to squeeze the bridge of your nose instead, like it’ll shut you up. But it doesn’t, only makes you whine and push at the hand. When he speaks again, his voice is very soft, almost too much so. It makes you giddy. It warms your blood. You love when Hajime nii tells you secrets, or things you’re not supposed to know.

The low mumble reaches. “Sucking his dick.”

Sucking it. You pop your lips, and watch as he starts bouncing his leg next to your head. But the lady in the video wasn’t just sucking. You’re not sure how to word it, so just pout for a moment. It’s not like you mean to push it too far. Evidently, you do though. “Can I do that to you, niichan?”

It nails the coffin closed, because he suddenly stands up and narrows his eyes, as heat comes up all the way to his ears. “Oh my god, don’t make it sound fucked up. I’m—”

"What, what, what?" you pout, and cling to him.

"Shut. Your. Trap. Dad's gonna hear." He takes your cheeks between his index finger and thumb, and makes you really look into his eyes. “Don’t ask anyone else that. Ever, okay? I’m not- talking about this with you right now.”

The conversation sated you back then, it seems. Because it doesn’t come up again until you’ve totally forgotten about it, much, much later. Late enough for you to be awoken from your sleep with an involuntary yawn. Hajime’s apartment is still pitch black, but you’re not unaware of the shape next to you as it slips into the covers with careful motions. Your chest rises and falls shallowly, before you nose pushes into his chest and he settles. “Sorry.”

“M’n -rom d’airport, miss you,” you slur, and also curl up further into Hajime’s heat, who doesn’t bother to try and understand you. You’re not even sure yourself. Only that you don’t want him to move, and that the gentle soothing motion of his heavy hand on your hip is nice. “Hm?”

“You’re taking up my side,” his voice rattles your skull with how deep and low it feels this close to your brain.

“‘M not leaving, you’re warm. Wanna stay here. Forever.” It’s enough to have him give in, slide an arm under your side and drape you up a little higher onto his pillow to really slide in nice and close next to you. Chest to chest, and your face to his collar. It isn’t the first time you’ve cuddled, or felt his thighs force some room between your legs to slide one of his between.

But it’s weird. You can still feel his eyes on your face, magnetic in the twilight. They trail paths all over, suffocatingly so. When you open your eyes as much as the call of sleep will allow, your lashes almost brush his nose, and it tickles, and your big brother’s breath dusts over your cheeks. “Wanna get more sleep before I have to go back home.” You justify, but Hajime doesn’t nod, doesn’t disagree either. He just looks, too close to your face. Your sleepiness doesn’t matter so much when your heart patters against your ribs. It’s just - like ice sliding down your spine, you can feel how your stomach turns inside you, and how hot the air feels. Why is it weird?

You’re older now. You know better now. There’s a whisper, a soft “niichan,” anything to break the tension. It is breathier than you mean it to come out. You just want to know if he feels nauseous too, sensing the same feeling of hell pressing down on your chest as the room seems to come closer. He seems to come closer too. He’s always so bright, so present in your mind. Whether you’re halfway across the world or kept

in his arms. And then pillowy lips connect with yours, nose brushing along your matching one, and your lips are pushed open by a wet, warm tongue. A hot flash travels down your throat as you try not to skitter away at the feeling. It takes a few seconds for your brain to catch up. Why is it different? Why? Why’s your belly burning with a strange sort of pressure? Tonight’s the last night you’ll be spending in Hajime’s apartment for a while, maybe.

His tongue slides into your mouth and tangles with yours, tasting of watermelon and mint mouthwash, and his heart beats slower against your chest. He’s just so close, and you feel like you’re drifting off into dreamland with how warm you feel melting into him. “M-nii -chan,” your voice comes, and a hand grabs your cheek to pull your face closer to his. You’re instantly reminded… of that high pitched moan of that girl on that video.

“Shh, ‘s okay. I’ve got you,” he noses along your jaw, before pressing a lingering kiss right in the middle of your bobbing throat. You don’t expect him to sit up. You don’t expect him to slide his arm under your knees and move you sideways, and to come back to your face for more warm, sloppy, wrong kisses. “I love you. I love you.” This is… wrong, isn’t it? It’s incest, and wrong. The word that haunted you ever since you learned it’s meaning. He groans your name in the quiet, and you automatically reply with a soft moan. Can’t help it. The kissing turns into deeper, needier, panting and spit on your bottom lip before he slides the calloused tips of his fingers over the exposed sliver of your tummy and up.

Hooking your flimsy cotton onto his fingers and pulling at it until he reaches the swell of your tits, but not revealing anything yet. You shake, and your legs spread apart. There’s a pressure on your bladder, on the lowest part of your belly, where heat collects itself and drips out of you into your panties— and it should be more embarrassing than it is. But your pout is kissed by your devoted, all-knowing big brother, and you wrap your arms around his neck to pull him closer.

“Let me- wanna show you somethin’ now.” His breathing against you feels like heaven, sweetening your blood until you can barely think straight over the smacking mouths and dripping of spit and your cunt and the swirling fire in your loins. “You’re so fucking- pretty.” His chest rubs against your tits, and his fingers pinch the skin where your breasts blush with heat, squeezing with a low rumble of his voice. He wants to say something, but doesn’t get the words out, clearly, as he shuts himself up in your lips, then your throat, down to your tits. Your pussy’s glowing, and your mind foggy- something you can’t pinpoint to either sleep or the moment, and is most likely both combined.

Hajime nii’s boxers are barely clinging onto his thighs with the way it’s tented around his cock when he pulls back, taking a long look just like you are. He’s hot, physically burning under your eyes. But also… filled out so much. He was always broad, but now it’s just distracting. Carved from marble and dusted with gold. It’s childish, petulant even, how you take in the sight and moan with your hands pawing at his shirt, but so fucking true. You’re overcome with it, with love for him.

And niichan seems similarly affected as you are, because there’s a furrow between his brows that only relaxes when he stares at your blushy, spit-covered lips, your heaving chest, the sticky patch of your panties as you’re laid spread on his bed.

His hand comes to yours, letting you wrap your fingers around his, but he doesn’t move beyond that. Only breathes deeply, and stares at the way you tangle your fingers between his. “Niichan, please,” you whine, pulling, tugging, demanding him into motion until he places his free hand onto his chubbed cock and squeezes himself through the fabric. The wet patch of his gray boxers clings uncomfortably to his cockhead, and you suck your lip between your teeth. “Show me, niichan. I wa- wan’ you to, please.”

You’re the one sitting up first, grabbing a handful of your own tits to whimper as his fist stays screwed around his cock— and have to lean yourself all the way down to nose at the inside of his thigh before he finally moves again. “Oh- fuck.” His hips jerk as he rubs himself against your cheek once, and when you moan, again. Large hands and long fingers splay out over your head to keep you in place as gently as he can manage as you let your spit-slick tongue rub against him as he fucks into the air and you chase. You only manage a little glance up between your lashes at his heavy petting and desperate few pumps against the softness of your mouth, but it’s plenty.

Plenty to see the blown out pupils and bead of sweat rolling down his neck, his ears and cheeks a dusty pink. Your big brother groans when you brush your thumb over the sticky patch of the fabric and wrap a ring of fingers around him, forcing the covered head to pop into your soft mouth with a loud kissy noise. “I- Fucking hell, get o- oh,” he doesn’t let you stay latched on, tangling his fingers in your hair and holding you away as he shudders, “you wan’it? That makes you feel good, does it?” The pull of your hair feels good though, pussy clenching around nothing again.

“Mhm, being under my big brudder makes me feel good.” You can’t keep yourself from nuzzling into his hand when he releases you to get up onto his knees, and watch as he shoves the boxers down his thick thighs with slower motions than you wish he’d use. It’s a little unfair. Even in the low light, you can see the glossiness of his cockhead, the little trail of hair leading you all the way down to right between muscular legs- and your nails drag down the skin with a needy whine until he rests the heavy tip back onto your lips. Onto your squirming, little tongue.

Hajime’s breathing comes to a halt as you lick up the slit and glance up at him, and move your hand to reach under his cock too. “Mh-niichan? You wanted this, right? for how long?”

His eyes go half lidded as he hums. “Long.”

Another long lick sliding down, your spit coats the bottom of his twitching cock until you’re happily nestled at the base and press kisses down. “Is that why you only watch sister porn?”

He groans your name with a tight grunt, and you can see the way his chest caves. You guess it doesn’t really matter. Worse sins have been committed just tonight than your big brother fondling you in his bed, and pressing you down on his lap. But the way it flushes his neck and makes his eyes narrow is so satisfying, you almost don’t know what to do with yourself when he pushes you away from him to roll you onto your back, long fingers finding your neck. The press scares you for a split second, before the pressure makes way for entirely too much pleasure. “Still a fucking brat.” His olive irises flash as he watches you drop open your mouth again, and pull at his shirt with a moan.

“Take this off~ niichan, please. Please.” His shirt is discarded somewhere next to the bed, before he allows you to place your lips back to the thumping, blood-filled head of his cock and wrap them around it. It feels good, really good— and he tastes like Hajime, slowly starting to rock onto your tongue as his hand tightens in your hair.

“Wan- uhuh, fuck, I want to cum down your throat so bad. Use-m- my little sister’s mouth.” He’s heavy, and thick, and spit gets everywhere as you do your very best to hollow your cheeks around his hard cock each time he pushes a little farther in. But of course you gag when he pushes past your tongue into your tight throat, and grunts out your name. He pulls back to let you take a breath but fucks right back into you, now rocking his hips harder and deeper. You gag, and Hajime hums. “Tch, messy little sister. Good, tho- feels so good-” Your fingers squeeze around the part where you can’t quite reach, other hand on his balls, while spit goes everywhere.

“Fuck, I’m fucking my sister’s mouth, this is- so fucked.” You suck harder, and Hajime’s cock twitches in your mouth. “Uh- love— you, uhuh, that’s a good girl.” Your lips are stretched wide, and your throat burns around the intrusion, but the feeling just makes you so lightheaded. Floating off from the world as he cups your face with two hands and jackhammers into your mouth until you can’t tell up from down. Your muffled, sloppy ‘niichan, niichan’ only makes his shoulders raise higher, abs flexed each time he makes you bottom out around him, each time tears run down your face. Even when you gag and push back against him. “You love your big brother too, right?”

“Mhm,” you’re choking on it and enjoying it, breath flooding your lungs each time he pulls back far enough to let you— before you have to grab his thigh and open your teary eyes to glance up at him. “Niichan, Hajime nii, p-please. Want your cock, i-inside, want to be my big brother’s cockslut, plea~se.”

He hauls you up from him by your shoulders, rolls you onto your back as he stares into your eyes. Pupils blown wide, with the pretty sliver of green, he bites his lip so hard it must hurt. “Why— you keep saying shit like that, thinking I’m not going to react? Stop poking.” His long fingers glide from your shoulder up to your neck again, and squeeze just enough to have you seeing little stars that vanish when you look at them. It feels good. Hajime feels so good. With the light of the moon dusting along his edges, you slowly spread your legs on both sides of his body, and blink.

“Mean it. Mn-gh, nii~chan. Want your cock to fill me up, I wan’it so bad. Want you.” He looks rabid as he dips down to shove a thumb between your lips for you to suck, lingering in that heady feeling. More. You moan it around his finger as he pushes on your tongue, but he’s already distracted with the way you’re peeling your own panties down your legs, and how the stings of slick stretch from the fabric all the way to your gushing cunt. “Pl-uh-ese, nii-dan.” Your lewd sucking of his finger and the way you pull your lower legs around his glutes seems to be too much for him.

“Love ya, Hajime niichan.”

You feel his lips crash to yours before his cock is shoved into you, but it’s the latter that instantly has your arms wrap around his muscular back to cling on. Because he’s thick, heavy, and burning hot inside you. Wetness clicks and squelches as he slides all the way in and swallows up your moan. He pulls out, and slams back in hard enough to make your legs jerk. You feel him in your belly. You feel him in your throat. You feel him in your soul too, as he sucks your tongue and cups your cheek and palms your tits all at once. As he pulls out and hits a spot inside you you didn’t even know about, and fucks you so good it makes your toes curl.

“‘S our secret, okay?” he pants when he pulls back, lifting your legs to your chest. And you’re already nodding your head up and down before he has to ask more, letting out the shakiest whimper.

Your voice is extra sweet when you hum. “Of course. Promise~.”

#iwaizumi smut #iwaizumi x reader #iwa smut #iwa x reader #haikyuu smut #haikyuu x reader #hq smut #iwaizumi hajime #hq x reader #tw.incest #tw.choking #tw.degradation #tw.dark content #🍯honey.pot #💫ch.iwaizumi

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charlottecutepie · 3 months

Text

☥ Bunny meat (William Afton x fem!reader x Michael Afton)

Summary: He was a likeable middle-aged man who had wonderful children, his dream job and a beautiful wife. He never blamed himself for his own actions, or to be more exact, he never thought about their consequences.

author notes: we are finally getting closer to smut <333

tags: darkfic, unhealthy relationship, angst, smut with plot, p in v, dubcon, oral sex, rough and gentle sex, daddy kink, blood play, knife play, fear play, hurt/comfort, violence, gore/murders, child abuse, follows fnaf lore, moral and physical abuse, virginity kink, anxiety disorder, age gap, daddy issues, unreliable narrator, hallucinations, hidden pairing, William is sick, psychopathy, unhealthy narcissism

Chapter 5

Chapter 4. Date

Michael froze. Elizabeth rushed towards her father. He looked at her sternly, nodding. Girl obediently got into the car. She knew that if her father talked in that tone and looked at her with that look, then she just had to keep quiet and do what he wanted.

“Dad, i—”

“Get in the car, now.”

Mike quickly went to the car, not even looking at you. You were at a loss what to do. The situation is terribly awkward. You haven’t even thought that Michael lied to his father for the sake of hanging out with you.

“Honey, get in the car, it's cold outside. I'll give you a ride home.” Afton’s face immediately changed, he putted on a wide friendly smile. You couldn't find words, so you packed up the rest of your things and just got in the car, at the same damn front seat. Afton's kids were sitting in the back, none of them wanted to sit next to their pissed father.

William started the engine and the car moved off. The cold didn’t recede, and you already regretted that you wore only a light t-shirt and shorts.

Michael was looking at the floor the whole time, nervously playing with the zipper on his backpack. He knew what was waiting for him. He knew what he was doing, but his stupid habit of not listening to his father's orders always played a cruel joke on him. He was most afraid for you and Elizabeth, because it was him who got you into this situation after all.

“We'll deal with you at home, Michael,” man behind the wheel said seriously. Michael looked up at the mirror in the car, meeting his father's angry gaze. “you’re grown-up guy, but framed yourself and your girl friend.”

You swallowed nervously, feeling uneasy. Is Afton really that cruel? Yes, he sometimes scared you in childhood, but he never showed any hint of aggression towards you or his children, at least in front of you. When you arrived at your house, you wanted to look at Michael, but he was sitting pressed into the car seat, so you hurried out.

Elizabeth waved goodbye to you, you smiled and said goodbye to her in return.

…

A few days passed after that incident, but you still felt uncomfortable, you felt kind of guilty in front of Mike, and this guilt was eating you up from the inside, forcing you to come up with terrible scenarios in your head. What happened when Michael got home? No, William can't be that cruel.

Unfortunately, Michael started avoiding you, as if he was afraid that someone would see you next to him. When you met on the street, he tried to hurry past with his head down, like a frightened puppy. But Mr. Afton began to visit you every day, every morning he stopped by and brought food to the house: eggs, milk, meat, vegetables. Once he even gave your mom a few hundred dollars so she could buy something for herself, from his words. Sometimes Elizabeth was with him, she couldn't get enough of your company. She kept asking you to play with her in backyard, not that you'd mind, but you couldn't get Michael's behavior out of your head.

On another summer day, you spent time with Elizabeth as always, she showed you her drawings. One of them had an animatronic, although all her drawings consisted only of these robots, but this one impressed you. It was robot girl in a bright red dress and two red ponytails.

“Daddy said he's going to make me one like her soon!” girl exclaimed, looking at your reaction. You looked at the drawing in detail.

“Lizzie, that’s really… great!” you patted her on the head, giving her back her drawing.

“Elizabeth, it's time to go home.” William came up to you. She nodded obediently and headed for the car. “wait for me there, honey.” He said kindly. Still, the way he treated his daughter left you hoping that nothing terrible happened to Michael that day. “Y/n, I have a question for you…“ he began, sitting down next to you on a bench in the yard.

“Yeah?”

“Would you like to go on a date with me?”

“Sorry?” your heart started beating at a furious rate, breathing became faster. You looked at his face, which expressed absolute calm. Your body tensed. Damn, when are you going to stop reacting like that? You must do something about your anxiety.

“I asked if you wanted to go on a date with me, honey.” William repeated.

“B-but you…” you didn't know what words to answer. He's a married man, what will Mrs. Afton think? And what will your whole small town think when they see you two together in some restaurant? “I don't quite understand you…”

“You don't have to worry about such things, bunny.” Afton said stiffly, as if reading your mind. “What do you say?”

You understood that you couldn't refuse. You didn’t knew how to. He was always there for you as if he knew when you were feeling bad and anxious. And how he calmed you down at the cemetery? And how he protected you from your drunken dad when you were little? And when he helped your mom with money and groceries? And in the end, when he gave you an unforgettable birthday in his pizzeria without demanding anything in return? You thought it would be just not right to refuse here.

At some point, he replaced your father. And you was grateful.

“I agree, William.” it was the first time his name came out of your mouth. William’s impassive face immediately changed to delight.

“Good girl,” he caressed your hair. “Ill pick you up tomorrow at 7.”

…

Her doe eyes symbolizing childlike innocence, purity. Such soft lips that he wants to kiss forever. Weak, frail hands. She's so pretty, so defenseless, like a child. William, what is wrong with you? He wants to kiss her, embrace her in his arms tightly, bite her, he want to bury his face in her soft hair, inhale the sweet scent of perfume mixed with shampoo. She's all playful, flirtatious. All for him. His porcelain doll. His little angelic creature. His girl. His fucking girl. His dream.

“Daddy,” she stands in front of him in a skirt and a snow-white blouse, seductively playing with the buttons on it. “What do you want? Tell me.” her voice echoed in his head.

“I want you.” the only thing William could say. “Fuck…”

That's fucking crazy.

His pants are tight as hell, his cock is about to explode, but she doesn't seem to be going to do anything about it. She brings her finger to her mouth, sucking it, then runs it along the jaw line, going lower and lower, drawing a line around her breasts. William has completely lost track of time, who he is, where he is, why, so many questions, no answers, and no answers are needed, all he wants is a continuation of this show. In an instant, the torn shirt flies to hell, and she, as little devil approaches him, sitting on his lap.

“William,” her whisper making the blood boil. “Take me…” her playful fingers run over his hot body.

He's about to suffocate from this unrestrained passion.

Williams’s eyes shoot open and he leaned on his elbows. He was breathing heavily, trying to figure out what just happened. His own wife was sleeping next to him.

…

Afton didn’t lie, he came to pick you up at exactly 7, even a little earlier. Oh, how it cheered him up to see you in the dress he gave you for your birthday. He chose it carefully and for a long time, as well as the necklace for it. William couldn't take his eyes off you the whole way, which didn't go unnoticed by you.

Your date started at a restaurant that he personally picked up. The place was so luxurious, all those tables for two with a white tablecloth, live music and an incredibly intimate atmosphere. All of this made you feel new, completely unknown feelings, but you liked them.

William ordered the two of you a fish fillet with a vegetable side dish, which he asked the best chef of the establishment to cook, because “my girl has the best of everything.”

Still, the growing feeling that someone of neighbors might see you never left, making you nervous again.

“Y/n, don’t worry," William said, cutting the fish in half. “Think of this date as… a continuation of your birthday.”

The waiter came up to you as soon as you finished eating, but dinner wasn't over for you here, William asked for dessert. Oh, yes, he knew you were a big fan of sweets. Even as a child, when you were visiting his family, your little hands were always reaching for the table with candies, because there was never anything at home.

“What do you think, Princess?” gently, lovingly, he asks, studying your expression. You'd be lying if you said you didn't like it. There was an ice cream in front of you: chocolate, creme brulee and vanilla, all three ice cream balls were covered with caramel. Afton knew your preferences perfectly well.

“That's wonderful, thank you!” like a hungry kitten, you started eating dessert. Your thoughts receded into the background at once, now you were most focused on the taste, it is so cloying, sweet, tender, as you liked. Under all this ecstasy, you didn't even notice William's gaze piercing you. Holding his breath, he watched your actions. You were so happy, so beautiful, so… desirable. Begging to be ruined. And when you licked the rest of the ice cream off your lips, he forgot how to breathe. You're the little devil that drives him crazy.

When dinner was over, William paid the bill for the two of you, leaving a tip for the waiter.

You were standing on the street, not far from his car. Despite the evening, this time the temperature didnt drop like back then, it was very warm. Yes, apparently, this summer will be remembered by you as the hottest of all time. William was talking to someone on the old phone, probably Henry, while you stood there and obediently waited, thinking about dinner tonight. There was no point in hiding it, you liked everything. Yes, there were terrible thoughts in your head that this whole romantic setting was not suitable for a girl who just turned 18 and a man who was already 50, but nothing terrible happened, did it? That date, in your head, was just a substitute for the words “thank you” for everything he did for you.

“Princess,” you didn't even notice when he finished talking on the phone. He turned to you, "I hope I satisfied your childish whims?" He smiled. You were right, William was normal and wasnt going to go any further, you can exhale. He just sees you as a child, like his other daughter… right?

“Of course, Daddy!” you giggled, joking. William however wasn't laughing, he fell into a stupor, what did you just call him? He got speechless. That picture immediately popped into his head, that image of you that has been tormenting him for weeks, months, years. Afton raised an eyebrow, laughing nervously back at you.

“Everything for my girl, let's go to the car.”

This time, the back seats weren't occupied, but because of the state of euphoria and delight, you decided that you could at your favorite damn front seat of this purple car. William got in next to you, but he wasn't going to start the car. He couldn’t get out of his head what you called him a few minutes ago. A joke, huh? Everything is burning inside, a wild, crazy feeling gripped his brain. Whole situation got worse when your dress strap fell off your shoulder, in his head it was like a sign to act.

With a light movement, touching your skin, he tucked strand of hair behind your ear and adjusted the dress strap. His touch caused pleasant shivers that spread all over your body. Heart stopped. His hands gently stroked your neck and shoulders with careful movements. Such a… strange, inexplicable feeling. It seems that you want to continue, but something in your head screams "enough, it’s enough", is this probably the remnants of common sense? Hundreds, no, thousands of butterflies in your stomach, the feeling that you are about to melt, like this ice cream. A pleasant shiver through your body from his touches. You stared into his gray-blue eyes, fascinated, with your mouth slightly open, as if begging him to kiss you.

“You… fuck, you're driving me crazy.” Afton hissed in your ear, from the wave of all these new sensations, you couldn't even answer him. His breath burned your skin. “Let's go to my place.”

#william afton smut #fnaf x reader #fnaf william afton #william afton x reader #fnaf x y/n #steve raglan x reader #fnaf smut #steve raglan smut #dilf william #william afton

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bijoumikhawal · 8 months

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I've gotten tired of making a post like this every few months so let's just fire a few of these off, and feel free to add on! Tropes you should at minimum reconsider using when you write or talk about Julian Bashir:

Mentions of "harem" pants, "Arabian nights" aesthetics, etc. These are improper terminology (that feeds into racist ideas) for real things, and when using that terminology those things are often being misrepresented. For my part, if you would actually like to know about the material culture of the Middle East and North Africa, I'm a "hobby" researcher of that very topic and will readily answer asks about it- with the caveat that I mostly know about Egypt, and I'm not the best person to ask about Sudanese specific culture even though I know a little, and I don't know much about Indian or Pakistani fashion (mentioning because these seem to be the most common cultures brought up around Julian).

comparisons to monkeys, apes, the word "simian". This should be obvious but it happens a fair amount, and it's almost comedic given a common trope is to comment on how much Garak hates being compared to a lizard.

This is separate but the way some people use mammalian tips from writing xenofic and trying to understand how an alien would think and categorize things into something that feels very exoticifying. It's not a "full stop, do not do this" but it is something I've noticed

Jokes about how undesirable Julian is. He's the exception that proves the rule about fandom's obsession with white twinks and a rare example of a brown nerd who isn't pinned into the "Couldn't sleep with a woman if they were the last two people on earth" box. I'm not saying we can't make fun of how he flirts just- Stay clear of Raj BBT territory

Conversely: my most hated garashir trope is when the author makes Julian's libido a problem by making him inconsiderate, cruel, and outright manipulative in service of his dick, and the writing often makes it clear they're connecting this to his masculinity. Julian does do some really stupid shit when it comes to his relationships, but this particular way of trying to incorporate this into writing him is just OOC, and you need to not confuse writing Julian's canonical robust and healthy sex life with negative stereotypes about lecherous Black and brown men. There's fics that pull off Julian being a bit of a dick or manipulative well- such as Salt the Earth or the ageswap series (at least where I last left off on it).

making his eyes green or blue. I have the same eye color as Siddig, more or less, and while it's technically hazel (or olive, as some people call it) most people think it's brown and most lighting makes it look brown. If you look at screencaps of Julian, you'll notice it also most of the time, looks brown. This sounds minor if you haven't experienced it, but it has a real and very negative impact on people's self image.

Older one but to be clear: if you're writing Julian as explicitly Muslim, find and replacing "god" with "allah" in English text is not how Muslims (or Arabic speakers in general) use the word? It is really funny to read, but please...

Over focusing on Julian as British. There's a long, LONG conversation that could be had about the dynamics of assimilation and how European racism (ime) very specifically views it as progressive to strip people of their culture and thinks they're causing the problem if they don't go along with it that would need its own post and which I've had with white fans before and feel exhausted thinking about- but to put it simply, there is no such thing as "just British", even for white Englishmen.

Yes the inverse is also wrong but I really haven't read a fic newer than 2014 guilty of that lmao and I think some of the more recent complaints about it are overblown, given I've read only a few fics recently published that delve into Julian as a Brown/African Person and I enjoyed them

I would personally appreciate it if fic writers were a little more balanced about cultural discussions honestly. If you write a lot about Cardassian culture, it'd be nice if Julian’s background was discussed. I won't say that kind of research is easy (again, I do this as a "hobby" that's very important to me, it's actually really annoying and difficult sometimes), but it is possible. I recently talked about how not doing this kind of mentally slots Julian into a "white guy" role.

This is not a matter of me policing your "artistic expression". I have no control over what you do. I would just like for fandom, a hobby I do for fun, to be a place where people stop being racist in a way that directly impacts me.

#cipher talk #ds9 #julian bashir

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sakisweetie · 2 years

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Hcs or imagine for ayato aishi/yandere-kun with an s/o who fell in love with him even when s/o saw him kill someone💕💕💕 hi👋 im a new follower🤗🤗🤗

Yandere-Kun x Reader who saw him kill someone

Gender neutral reader

Your heart raced in your chest, the air struggling to enter your lungs.

You know he heard your footsteps.

You peek out from behind the corner and see him.

Ayato Aishi.

Whenever you saw him in the halls or in class, you barely paid him any mind.

Any interactions you had were a simple, "hello" and a smile.

And yet, he was right there, covered in blood with a dead girl at his feet. Midori Gurin was her name, you thought.

You met his cold, piercing gaze and you leaned against the wall, hiding once again. You wanted to run, to tell someone, to get to safety- but your legs were stuck in place.

You heard the quiet taps of the black school shoes coming closer and closer. You were prepared to feel the icy metal of the knife against your neck.

You look up at the blood-covered male, whose eyebrows were furrowed.

"I- I'm sorry! I won't tell anyone what I saw, I swear! Please, just don't hurt me!" You exclaim, shivering.

He let out a quiet grunt, looking you up and down.

He walked back to the body, wrapping her up in a black garbage back.

He really spared your life. Why? You didn't know, but you took the chance and ran.

The next day, you couldn't help but keep thinking of him.

He was blessed with good looks, and the way his eyes traveled up your figure sent shivers down your spine.

Any normal person would've broken the promise and reported him to the authorities, but you couldn't bring yourself to do it.

Somehow, you felt guilty. It was so stupid. How could you feel guilty?

You were walking through the hallway, zoned out. You were brought back to reality when you bumped into someone's chest.

"Oh, sorry-" you said, looking up.

It was none other than Ayato.

"We meet again, Y/N," he said in a low voice.

You gulped, unsure of what to say.

He looked even better up close.

"G- good morning, Ayato." You said quietly.

He looked around to see if the coast was clear.

"I take it you haven't told anyone what you saw," he said, raising a brow.

You shook your head frantically.

"No! No, I haven't. I promise," you said.

He smirked, brushing his finger against your cheek gently.

"You're cute when you blush," he said quietly, walking away.

You stood there, stunned.

You felt your cheek and felt the heat. Glancing at a nearby window reflection, you could just about make out how red your face was.

Were you really falling for a murderer? A criminal?!

From then on, he always had an eye on you. Those grey eyes always seemed to sparkle when they met your e/c ones.

You found yourself staring at him more often, wanting his attention.

You tried to deny it- you really did- but there was just no doubt about it.

You fell in love with Ayato Aishi.

One day, you thought enough was enough. You were stuck in an endless cycle of fluster around him.

You left a bright pink note in his locker, telling him to meet you under the cherry blossom tree after school.

It was the most cliché thing you could do, but you were desperate.

You stood at the tree impatiently, already regretting this. What if he won't show up? What if you'll end up like Midori?

Your thoughts were slightly put to rest as you see a familiar head of grey hair approach you.

"Oh, Y/N. You're the one who left that note?" He asked.

You nod.

"Yeah, um... I've caught very strong feelings for you. I- I know it might seem weird, because I saw you... Kill someone... B- but that doesn't change anything! I can't help it, I like you," you said, blushing and sweating like crazy.

He stared at you blankly for a moment. That moment seemed to drag on for too long.

"That's... unexpected. But I won't deny it. I like you too. I thought Midori simply got in my way," he said in his usual emotionless voice.

You breathed a sigh of relief, hugging him nervously.

If he really did like you, he wouldn't hurt you. Not like that poor girl...

"You're mine now," he whispered.

Omg sorry this kinda sucks 💔🙏 i haven't written imagines/oneshots in so long

#yandere simulator #yandere simulator x reader #yandere sim #ayato aishi #yandere kun #ayato aishi x reader

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horseshoegirl · 10 months

Text

Damn Those Dog Tags: Part 14 - Sex on Fire

📓 We have fluff! We have some smut!

This song specifically was one of the big three that inspired this fic! When I saw TGM and the scene at the end when Mav takes Penny up in his plane, this song matched the vibe, and I knew I wanted this for Jake and Liz.

Though I would love for you guys to try and guess which one is the song that inspired the whole story! Cause there is one! 👀

❗️+18, strong language, godmother reader/original female character, Mentions of an original child character, sexual themes (I mean Smut, so get outta here if you ain't +18,), FLUFF, aerophobia, and second dates.

#7k

Part 13 | Masterlist | Part 15

(Bradley's Spin-Off one shot here)

Jake and Sadie were conniving little lunatics.

Scratch that. Sadie was an annoying insect who knew how to push buttons to get what she wanted. Jake was a gullible poor sod who had the habit of being played by said insect more than once. Because you knew without a doubt, sitting in the front seat of Jake's truck, blindfolded without any idea where you were going, this had her name written all over it.

"Is the blindfold really necessary, Jake?"

"If you knew where I was taking you, you'd jump out of my truck in an instant."

"That's not very reassuring."

Jake chuckled, bringing your hand up to press a kiss to your knuckles. "Sadie would kill me if I didn't follow through on this. After all our hard work."

"So you're doing this more for her than me," you tease. You could hear the smile in his voice when Jake replied, "The ladybug incident didn't scare you enough. Sadie's scary when she wants to be."

You chuckled softly, Jake joining in as you felt his thumb stroke across your knuckles.

Going on a date had been the last thing on your mind.

Tyler was still a major concern. Even with Cyclone keeping a watchful eye on the group of police assigned to Sadie and your case, they still needed actual leads. You hadn't paid much attention to his phone call the other day, explaining the pressure on Tyler's father to drop out of his political race or how Tyler's stupid white car was spotted on the interstate, leaving California altogether.

It should have brought you some comfort, but it didn't. The longer time stretched on, the more anxious you felt, wondering when he would make his next move.

Then there was also the matter of Bradley. Stupid, over-emotional, Bradley.

It had been days since Sadie found you in the bathtub - days since the fight. You hadn't heard from him, nor did you expect to. Maybe a tiny part of you didn't want him to reach out. But any nasty thoughts you harboured for him in the days following only managed to turn themselves into pity.

You knew his story. Mav told it enough times for you to recite it by heart. Bradley had only been two when his father tragically passed away. And Carole, his mom, had been devastated. You couldn't begin to understand the circumstances he had to go through as a kid. Each time Mav told the story, he always stressed that no love could have matched Carole and Goose's.

It's no wonder Bradley felt their loss in the way that he did. And you did feel partially guilty, wondering if talking to him about everything before it had gotten this bad would have made a difference. But it was clear he was internalizing something bigger than just hurt feelings.

You weren't going to make the first move. That would have to be up to him.

It better be a damn good apology.

The idea of a possible date started when Sadie had called you a panicking-inducing hermit, much to Jake's amusement, scared to do anything remotely fun outside the confines of the house. Honesty? It was more to do with the fact there had been no sign of Tyler, no white car following you or sitting outside your house to encourage your paranoia.

You had gone to bed early after that, Jake and Sadie staying up playing a game of cards. You had no idea what time it was when Jake climbed into your bed, waking you up in the process when he pulled you into his chest. But it was definitely later than it should have been for a game of cards.

Jake had stayed with the two of you. Every morning you got to wake up either next to him or in his arms. The Daggers were still grounded; whether it was repairs or upper politics of the Navy, you weren't sure. But you were utterly grateful for his presence.

It became evident that it was clearly more than a game of cards the following morning. Because in the hours after breakfast, Sadie made herself scarce. And Jake purposely kept you away from the garage, where he had parked his truck, in case Tyler decided to visit.

Sadie's maniacal laughter was another indication, so loud you could hear it through the garage walls. You were slightly concerned about what Jake was letting her do in there.

But it all came to a head when Nat and Bob showed up at your door, telling you they were watching Sadie for the night, the Bug in question grinning ear to ear as she joined you at the door. You tried to refuse. You didn't want to leave her alone. In a surprise move, Sadie pouted at you.

She had never once pouted over anything. No, she pushed, sassed, humoured, and produced receipts when she wanted to get her way.

It freaked you out, so much so you couldn't bring yourself to say no. Which is how you found yourself in the passenger seat of Jake's truck, Nat and Bob standing with her on your front porch as she shouted for both of you to have a good time as he backed out of your driveway.

This was the worst possible timing. And yet, after everything they did, you felt like you owed it to them to try.

"You deserve this, darlin'." Jake's voice breaks through your thoughts, knowing you feel guilty. You squeeze his hand, dropping your chin to your chest. You have to remind yourself that Sadie is safe at home with Nat and Bob, probably arguing over music or what board game to play. And most importantly, you were allowed to take time to do things like this.

It's a few more minutes before Jake finally parks his truck, letting go of your hand and gently taking hold of your face. "Do you promise to give this a chance?"

"I don't even know what you've gotten me into. What Sadie and you got me into."

You can't see his face, so you can't tell what he's thinking. But you can imagine what he looks like right now as you feel him tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear. You bet he's staring at you apprehensively, gritting his jaw, and letting out a tiny huff of breath.

"You trust me, right?"

You turn your head to place a kiss on the palm of his hand. "You know I do, Jake."

"Then trust me when I say you won't regret this." You sucked in a breath before you nodded.

Jake lets go of your face to get out of his truck, walking around to open your door and help you out of your seat. You were instantly met with the smell of gasoline and pavement, the hot waves travelling up the bare skin of your legs, and your dress slightly flowing in the wind. There's a second where you think you heard the rumble of an engine or a zoom of a plane, but Jake doesn't give you much time to think about it as he helps you step down and shuts the door behind him.

Looping your arm through his, he leads you away, walking for a bit until he stops and turns to face you, squeezing your hand.

"Stay here," he says, letting you go. You cross your arms over your chest as you wait for him, hearing the sound of keys rattling together, sliding metal and a chain dragging along the ground. And then that's it. Besides the sound of wind in your ears and a few birds chirping, you don't hear any sign of him, and it makes you wonder if he's left you alone, standing in the middle of nowhere.

Until you feel his hand gently touching your arm, and you jolt slightly. "It's just me, Liz."

He guides you forward, making you stand in one spot, hands steadying you by your elbows. You feel him against your back for a few seconds before he's working at the knot of the blindfold.

"Just remember you promised," he said before taking it off.

You opened your eyes - to Mav's plane staring back at you.

You understood why the blindfold was necessary. You would have jumped out of his truck in an instant.

"Jake..."

"I said I would get you into a plane for our second date," he said, proud of himself. You knew where this was leading, what he wanted to do. You subconsciously stepped backwards, the words "absolutely not" escaping your lips.

You didn't get very far. Your back met Jake's chest, and he instantly had his arms around you, trapping your body against his. You turn, burying your face in his chest. "I'm terrified of flying, Jake."

"I'm going to be with you the whole time. I promise Liz, nothing bad is going to happen to you." He has the entire nape of your neck in his hand while this other hand is rubbing down the length of your spine in a comforting manner.

You don't know where your fear of flying came from. You've never been up in a plane before, a fact you certainly wouldn't admit to Jake. You were okay with heights, hikes on mountainside cliffs and long car drives.

Maybe it was the idea of not being in control of your body or being grounded.

"Jake, I don't know about this," you admit into his shirt. He presses his lips into your hair before explaining, "I won't let anything happen to you. We're just going up for a simple flight. The wind is perfect right now. There will be no turbulence. Trust me; I'm not called the best aviator at Top Gun for nothing."

He takes his hand off your neck to lift your chin. "Please," he urged, pressing a kiss to your lips. "Let me share something about my life that I love."

It was then, at that moment, you realized Jake and Sadie had something very much in common.

You could never say no to either of them.

___

If anyone had told you a week ago you would be sitting in the backseat of a plane, currently taxing down to a runway, you probably would have dropped dead on the spot. Even with your nerves on fire and a strong case of nausea, you let Jake help you up and into the back seat once he pulled the plane out of the hangar with little protest.

He was so excited to share this with you. Whether it was in how he helped buckle you into the seat or when he placed the headset on your head, there was a side to him you hadn't seen before. Almost giddiness, you thought, despite every internal voice you ever had screaming at you to run for the freaking hills. Even then, you were grateful you got to see this side of him.

As Jake speaks with the control tower expertly, you dart your eyes around the cabin. While there wasn't anything in terms of controls in the backseat with you, everything still looked old. The seat felt old. The buckles of the straps tying you down looked old. Even the walls looked old.

You also felt higher than you should, staring down at the plane's wings, eyes scoring the features, the colours, and the bumps. You knew you wouldn't find anything wrong. Jake was extremely thorough in his flight check, and you knew Mav cared for this thing like it was his child. But you were still scared, even believing if Sadie could do this multiple times with Maverick, who without a doubt took her for joyrides, you could handle a simple flight with Jake.

You should have fought harder to say no. You should have fought harder to say no.

Jake turns back slightly, looking at you from the corner of his eye. "I know it might seem scary, Liz. But trust me. I got you. We'll go slow."

Jake flies in an F-18, a machine capable of much more than whatever Mav's hobby plane could do. So his definition of slow is highly relative. It makes you feel nervous, wondering what he had planned for you.

It isn't until Jake pushes the plane forward onto the runway that you realize you have to accept that this is happening. Then he's accelerating forward, and you cannot help but hold your breath.

Adrenaline floods your veins as the plane takes off, gravity attempting to pull you back down in heavy anger. You slam your eyes shut, trying to force air into your lungs. The angle seems wrong, and you have this feeling both of you will crash into something, making you turn your face into your shoulder to hide.

Even when the plane levels out and things seem okay enough, you can't open them. Your heart is in your ears, and you're trying not to hyperventilate or make a noise. You don't want to ruin this for him. Because deep down, you knew, even with all the teasing and assurances, Jake would turn the plane around for you the second he got the slightest indication you were seriously freaked out.

So, for the longest time, you keep them shut, nothing but your heartbeat in your ears and the rumble of the old engine to keep you company. Even with Jake making this ride as smooth as possible, you couldn't help but alternate between gripping the edges of the seat or hugging yourself tight.

Don't open your eyes. Don't look down. Don't open your eyes. Don't look down.

"You alright?" Jake's voice crackled through the headset. First, you nodded with a hard sallow. But then you realize Jake couldn't see you. Your voice trembled as you managed to reply with, "Yes."

He chuckled to himself, the noise warm and full of amusement. He knew. He always did when it came to you.

"Open your eyes, Liz," Jake urged gently, his voice a mix of reassurance and excitement. "I'm not going to murder you if that's what your thinking."

Despite your anxiety, a smile manages to break through at his words. Actually, they are your words from the day of the hike when you took him down that hazardous unpaved road to the thrift shop. That had been so long ago, way before anything to do with Tyler, Bradley, or even before whatever this was with him.

He had given you the benefit of the doubt then. You owed it to do the same for him now. Shuttering a deep breath, you gathered the courage to open your eyes slowly.

At first, you half expected to fixate on the view of the ground underneath the plane's wings or catch a glimpse of the shoreline or ocean. That you'd hyperventilate, witnessing perhaps an engine on fire or a piece of Mav's plane missing, flapping in the wind.

You saw none of those things.

Jake had taken the two of you further North of the airport, towards a group of mountains. You were right in the middle of them, green caps and tall peaks making you forget you were even bound to the seat of the plane.

This wasn't flying.

This felt like soaring.

Jake banked the plane around one particular mountain, a tall one at the very end of the group. It wasn't until he purposely straightened out after circling around it, did the sun fully come into view. It was already beginning its descent toward the horizon, painting the sky with various hues and shades of fiery oranges, soft pinks and yellows.

The view from the Ferris wheel at the Fair had nothing on this.

Humans weren't supposed to witness views like this. They weren't supposed to be up this high, feeling like they could touch the clouds or be this close to the sun. Or see the shine, this bright, off the peaks of mountains or even be this parallel with them.

This was only something anyone could ever dream about seeing

As the plane glided through the sky, you could feel the sun's warmth casting a gentle light on your face. You closed your eyes, not out of fear this time, but contentment, placing your hands on either side of the window and taking a deep breath.

But when you opened your eyes, your eyes began to water, and you found yourself biting your lip as you looked back toward the sun. The words spilled out of you before you knew you had said them, your voice almost sounding broken as a single tear escaped down your cheek.

"Hi, Ridely."

Because there was something about being up here, in the clouds and the surrounding mountains and feeling the sun on your face, that brought you that much closer to her. Some part of you felt guilty for refusing Mav, Nat and even Rooster, to some degree, to take you up and experience this.

She was here with you. And you had never felt more free.

"You ready?" Jake asked you. Unknown to you, he was smiling, having heard your remark. You looked at the back of his head, a grin adding to the happy tears gracing your face. "For what?"

Jake didn't give you a reply. Instead, the plane tilted, and suddenly, the world was turning on its axis. A squeal caught in your throat as you found yourself spinning upside down.

"JAKE, YOU MOTHERFU.."

But your voice caught in your throat before you could finish your sentence, Jake laughing at your reaction.

Honestly, it wasn’t as bad as you originally thought. You didn't really know what to think about it, whether gravity would be pulling you out of your seat or seeing the world below would make you pass out.

The small part of you, still holding on to your fear, wanted to be mad at him. But the part of you, the one secretly enjoying the entire experience, won out.

The truth was, you couldn't help the laughter suddenly escaping your mouth. You couldn't help the smile as Jake accelerated the plane. Or when he let the nose dip ever so slightly to let it fall, you couldn't help the shout of exhilaration.

The rules of aviation or flight were beyond you as he controlled the plane through the air, nerves dying out and instead being replaced with pure joy.

You really could have cared less about being mad at him now.

The world below, and every problem in it, disappeared. And you were alright with that.

___

You didn't want to admit to yourself as Jake finally landed the plane that you never wanted that to end. Even if you should be feeling relief at being on solid ground or when he parked the plane in front of the hanger, you were high on adrenaline and sheer joy.

You peered up at Jake's hesitant face after he helped you climb out of the plane, standing on wobbly legs. You couldn't do anything but pull him down by the back of his head and kiss him hard. He laughed into the kiss, rubbing his hands up and down your side as he spoke against your lips. "I take it your not afraid of flying anymore?"

You pull away, pressing your forehead to his chin. "Only if you are flying the plane."

It's feeding his ego, you are sure. His chest puffs out under your hands, and that cocky smirk he's known for returns, present in the kisses he's placing on your head.

"So I still have a girlfriend, then?"

You stiffen. Jake would want to put a title on this, even if it was only your 'official' second date. The both of you have done so much of this backwards, way outside the box of how 'normal' relationships were supposed to go. But in a few weeks, Jake and you went from a first date to sleeping in the same bed to him staying over for a week.

When was your and Jake's relationship ever straightforward? And as you told yourself in that bathroom at the fair, there was nothing wrong with being in love with Jake Seresin.

"I didn't know you had one," you say nonchalantly. Jake plays along, hands gripping your hips.

"Oh, you didn't hear? Big Bad Hangman is suddenly enamoured with this assertive, savvy bartender at the Hard Deck. Turned him down flat on his ass the first time they met. Didn't stop him from wanting to be around her, though."

"The shameless, cocky flirt who says the wrong thing at the wrong time, humbled by her and her sassy niece." He leans down to whisper in your ear. "Not to mention she's fucking hot."

You hummed, nodding your head and purposely avoiding looking at his face when he pulled back, your cheeks flaring up hard.

"Will you look at me, Liz?"

"I can't."

Jake laughs at your reply. "You can't? Now why's that?"

"Because you're all ego right now and boastful, and you get that cocky smirk when you do," you mummer, still purposely avoiding his eyes. That cocky smirk grows even wider as Jake tugs your hips into his.

"You mean this cocky smirk?" he teases, pressing his nose to yours, maintaining his smile. You're fighting with yourself not to smile, but it's a battle you've already lost. Jake nuzzles his nose against yours before pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth, still grinning. And then another to your cheek, just below your eye, before he's littering your face with them, and you laugh as you try to escape him.

"But if you really want to know," he says after you give in, smiling at him as he tucks a piece of your hair behind your ear. "I think you were mine the second you gave me that clean slate in your kitchen."

"I was yours?" you press playfully, quirking an eyebrow. Jake pauses for a second, making a show of having to think about his answer. Till his face lights up in recognition, and he says," Oh wait."

He makes a show of standing straighter, dropping his voice lower and making his southern accent purposely thicker. "You've bewitched me body and soul since that night in your kitchen."

"Oh," you laugh wholeheartedly, knowing precisely what he's doing. "You're not trying to, Mr. Darcy, this!?"

He frowns. "I thought you liked Pride and Prejudice."

You grin at him, your hands working through his hair before you kiss his lips, pulling back slightly to mummer against his mouth. "That was before I had a decorated hotshot Navy fighter pilot sleeping in my bed."

Jake growls, and you giggle as he bends you backwards, kissing you again.

Stowing away Mav's plane didn't take very long. The two of you were on the road with daylight still out and Jake telling you the night was far from over. He took you to your favourite takeout place before driving to an Outlook, telling you he'd like to come here to think things through.

You know he intends for the both of you to sit on the flatbed of his truck when he backs it into the parking spot, purposely making it face out towards the water. He presses a button before the two of you get out, making the back cover come off.

But Sadie's involvement in conspiring to get you into the backseat of Mav's plane clearly didn't end with the blindfold. Because the second two of you walk around and Jake drops the tailgate, Sadie's handiwork glares back at you.

You don't know where to look first. Your air mattress sits in the flatbed with a spare mattress cover. A few pairs of blankets are covering it, and you know she would have needed help to get the two spare pillows sitting at the back, the ones you kept on the top shelf of your linen closet.

Of course, Jake could have managed this all on his own. But the dead giveaway was the lights. It only could have been Sadie who had taken the battery-operated string lights you had on the bookcase in your family room and strung them to the sides of his truck, the electrical tape you knew had been Jake's idea.

When you get over your shock, you turn to Jake, absolutely speechless that he let her do all this. He shrugged like it was no big deal. "What? I have to give her credit. Bug's creative."

He set the bag of food down before placing his hands on your waist, lifting you up to sit on the edge of the tailgate. "Get yourself comfy, darlin'."

You didn't move. For the sole fact you were wearing a knee-high dress, and if you turned to climb on top of the mattress, he'd get a pretty nice view of your ass. He shot you a look once he hopped up, and you shrugged, avoiding his eyes. "You can go first."

He chuckled knowingly. "Nothing I ain't going to see eventually."

It was nice to know Jake's ability to make you bush hadn't waned after recent events.

The two of you settled up against the pillows, takeout containers in both of your laps as you ate, talking about Sadie and what it might look like for her when he had to return to school next week. Then his phone rang. You spied the face-time ID as Jake reached for it on the blanket in front of him.

Janet.

He looked guilty as he asked, "Do you mind if?"

You shook your head, smiling around the fork in your mouth before managing, "Of course not."

Jake handed you his takeout container, bringing his phone up to answer the call. But instead of his sister's face, he was greeted by the sight of a baby in a blue cap.

"Surprise!" Janet's tired voice rang out through the speaker. "Meet your nephew!"

Jake's eyes glazed over the second he stared down at his phone. His hand holding his phone slightly shook, and he reached out to grip the edge of his truck with a thump. You couldn't help yourself when you dropped the takeout containers onto the blanket in front of you and peered up over his shoulder.

"Oh my god, he's adorable."

Suddenly, the camera flipped on his phone, and Jake's sister was staring back at both of you.

Even in a hospital gown, her exhaustion evident, it was clear Janet was Jake's sister. Her hair was the same colour, her eyes the same shade of green. Her mouth was the same shape, and you were sure if she smiled, you would undoubtedly see Jake's same smile beaming back at you.

"Shit, he wasn't kidding when he said you were gorgeous."

You ducked, hiding your face behind Jake's shoulder, heat rising in your cheeks. Whether it was the quickness of your escape or Janet's revealing words, Jake seemed to snap out of his daze.

"Janet!"

"Hey, I gotta embarrass you where I can. Call it payback for all the times you shared my dirty little secrets with Ian."

"Those weren't secrets, Jan. He needed to know what he was getting himself into."

"Bless his heart for it too."

You shook your head, chuckling into the back of Jake's shirt at their banter. Jake looks over his shoulder at you, slightly amused.

"Come out, Liz," Janet called out from the phone. "I don't bite."

"Much," Jake grumbled.

This wasn't exactly how you imagined meeting his sister, one of the few people he actually considered his family. Slowly lifting your head from behind Jake's frame, you managed a hesitant smile, gripping him for dear life. "Congratulations, Janet."

She smiled at you, replying, "Twelve hours of labour, but it was so worth it."

"What did you name him?" you asked, unable to contain the joy in your voice.

"E.J.," she said, looking down at the bundle in her arms before returning to look at the screen, clarifying, "Elijah-Jacob."

Jake drew in a sharp breath, and Janet didn't hesitate when she cried out, "As if I would name him anything else, you idiot."

Resting your chin on Jake's shoulder, you peered up at the side of his face with an affectionate smile. "Your full name's Jacob?"

But he didn't answer you, instead asking his sister, "Now, why on earth would you do something as stupid as that?"

Janet shot him a disappointed look before her eyes tracked over to you. "Liz, will you help me out here?" she said, tilting her head toward Jake.

"Glady," you replied, tapping the back of his head. Jolting under your chin, Jake faced you, slightly shocked. But you only shot him a disapproving glare.

"You're my baby brother. You risk your f-ing life day in and day out every single time you go up in that jet of yours or go out on deployments to make sure everyone else can sleep safely at night. And when you are home? I won't even start on all the shit you stand up against, not with Liz here."

Janet lets out a huge sigh before exclaiming, "So don't question my judgment or my choice. There was no way I was going to name him anything else. Suck it up."

Jake could only shake his head in disbelief, a humbling smile growing with each passing second.

"Now, hand me over to Liz. I wanna talk to her properly."

This is so backwards, you think, as Jake passes his phone over to you with a knowing smile. You are suddenly filled with nervousness you are not used to. This was the one person you knew Jake sought approval from. Everything was riding on this one interaction.

But your nerves settle instantly when she grins at you and casually mentions, "So, he managed to get you up in that death trap."

"It seems everyone knew about this little plan but me, even my niece, dead centre in the middle of it."

Janet grins at the mention of Sadie. "From what Jake has told me about her, she's a girl after my own heart."

"Sassy? Opinionated? Knows how to get her way?"

"Something more like being an insect, but I can see where the similarities lie."

You chuckle softly, feeling Jake rub your side, before you say, "You remind me of her."

"I'd love to meet her one day. And you in person. "

"I'd like that. I'm sure she'd love you."

Jake shook his head violently, and you couldn't help but laugh at him. "My nephew will get all sorts of horrible ideas if he meets Sadie. Don't start him that young!"

You gasp at him. "Are you saying my niece is a troublemaker, Jake Seresin?"

"You know she is."

You shake your head, bumping him with your shoulder.

"Please get my number from my little brother over here. I want somebody to send cute baby pics to," Janet pouts.

"Could you send me embarrassing stories?" you wiggle your eyebrows. Janet smirks, a playful look in her tired eyes. "Oh, you want them. I'll give them to you, no problem."

Oh boy, did you like her.

"Nope." Jake tries to reach for his phone, but you are quicker, laughing at his attempts as you stretch your hand out of his reach. "You have a ten-year-old in the palm of your hand who has an honesty problem and years of embarrassing stories about me. Let me have my chance!"

"In comparison? Nope. Not even close. Give me my phone." Jake holds out the palm of his hand. And then you get an idea, shooting him a playful stare as you extend your hand farther.

"Come and get it, Cowboy."

Suddenly, Jake lurches forward, almost toppling you over. Jake's efforts to retrieve his phone only cause you to break out in a fit of giggles, your stomach cramping so much you fall over into the air mattress, Jake landing on top of you. Your grip on his phone is still tight.

"If my sister wasn't on the other end..." There is no threat in his words. Jake's smiling with you as you continue to laugh, trying to pry the device out of your hand. Janet's shout through her own laughter interrupts the two of you. "Keep it pg, you two! Literal newborn ears over here!"

Jake manages to swipe his phone back when you laugh even harder at her words. You sit up, wrapping your arms around his as you try to fit yourself into the view of his phone screen when the two of you settle.

Janet looks up at something in her room and frowns. "I gotta go. The nurse will come back any minute and yell at me, I swear."

The both of you say your goodbyes, Janet explaining more than once she was happy Jake found you. But just before he went to end the call, Janet called out his name.

"Watch out for a package from Texas coming up there."

Jake's smile flees at Janet's words, slowly dissolving into a sombre expression. His body tenses under your touch, and you see the second his eyes darken with a deep-seated seriousness. It's a side to Jake you've only truly ever seen once before - when he found you handcuffed on the floor of the Hard Deck.

Growing up, you and Ridley had all sorts of codewords and phrases for different things. Those were the unfortunate circumstances you had to live with as a kid. So you knew right away Janet didn't mean an actual package. Whatever it was, Jake was clearly not happy about it. It was making you deeply concerned.

Jake reaches for your thigh, grip tightening when he replies, "Yeah, okay."

He hangs up. And doesn't mention anything else about it.

After finishing your dinner in silence, you sat next to Jake, staring out at the horizon. His arm was wrapped around your shoulders, keeping you tight to his side. At some point, you had placed both of your legs over his lap, wanting to be as close to him as possible.

It was still light out when Jake and you left the tiny airport, and the sky was now turning dark, leaving the small parking lot of Jake's outlook out secluded, the two of you alone and in utter peace. His fingers were absentmindedly stroking your skin as you both took in the last few minutes of the sunset.

"You okay?" you asked him, kissing his shoulder before looking back over the water, suddenly aware of Jake's hand slowly getting closer to the inside of your thigh. He kissed your cheek, replying, "Never better."

You don't buy it.

"You're an uncle now," you wondered aloud. Jake shrugged. "I already was one."

"But it's different. Sadie is..."

"Sadie counts." He quickly corrected you, kissing your forehead before looking back to the water. "She'll always count."

It warms you, his level of affection for her, but you cannot help but detect a sense of finality in his tone. Reaching up, you cradled the side of his jaw, turning his head back to you so you could lean up and kiss him.

Jake presses his lips to yours softly before pulling back to look at you. There's something in his eyes you cannot name.

Then his lips are back on yours, this time steady and encompassing, parting your lips with his tongue. Your grip on his face tightens as you suddenly find yourself being tilted backwards, sliding down the pillows until Jake is half on top of you. Your head is pillowed on his bicep as he kisses you, your hand still cradling his jaw.

He then goes for your neck in a desperate breath, open-mouth kisses, sucking harder and harder. You're used to this. The two times Jake had you pinned up against him, he had marked up the side of your neck. But his hand, not trapped under your head, is wandering. Groping at your breast, sliding down your stomach to the outside of your thigh, testing his grip.

He hikes your outside leg up, fingers brushing the sensitive part inside your thigh.

Your breath hitches.

"Is this okay?" he whispered into your ear. You hummed your reply, nodding once. But Jake grazed his nose along your jawbone lightly, fingers delicately sliding up and down the inside of your thigh.

"Words, Elizabeth."

Damn him and his accent, saying your full name.

"Yes," you gasped out, wanting him. "It's absolutely okay."

"My good girl," he says before diving back to your mouth. You know he's teasing you as he strokes your skin, making you quiver with anticipation of what is to come. But then he's reaching for the helm of your dress, lifting and folding it over your stomach, as he releases your lips in a harsh pant.

The question is there in his eyes as he looks down at you, fingers resting just on the helm of your underwear. You swallow, opening your legs wide. Jake's eyes glaze over, and his arm flexes under your head. You're giving him this—this first experience of letting someone be with you.

He doesn't hesitate when he starts dragging them down. You eagerly lift your hips to help him take them off. Once he gets them past your ankles, he shoves them into the back pocket of his jeans.

Jake hisses when he takes you in, so spread out for him. "Can I touch, darlin'? Can I touch what is mine?"

Fucking hell, Jake. Do you have a consent kink?!

"I'm yours," you gasp into the night air. "Please, Jake, Please."

Jake rests half on top of you, swallowing your whimper as he finally reaches and presses down on your clit, slow, gentle circles that have you closing your legs and sharp breaths racking your chest. Your hand shoots out and grips his wrist, feeling his muscles contract under your hand.

"Keep them open, Liz," he warns, shifting down slightly so he can turn you and press you back against his chest. Jake slots his leg between yours, expertly thrusting his knee so your leg hooks up over his, never stopping in his efforts.

He rubs at you with ease, carefully watching how each movement makes you react before he switches to his thumb, and a single-finger probes at your entrance. You thrust your hips back into him, a strangled noise crawling out of your throat, and Jake uses it as an opportunity to push his finger inside.

"That sound, " He breathes against your cheek. "You're driving me goddamn insane."

You used to worry back in university that you'd feel trapped if you ever found someone you trusted enough to do with this. But even with Jake poised at your back, working between your legs, you did not feel as if you weren't in control. Your body is open to the air, and Jake is only holding you down by his hand and the weight of his words.

You feel safe.

He adds another finger, curling them inside you, searching for something when you let out a sharp whine. It burns. The stretch. The sensations that were spreading across your groin.

You felt full with Jake's finger's inside you, squelching sounds accompanying each time pumped them in and out of you. "You're so tight," he moaned into your neck. "I won't have you here, but fuck Liz, the day I can have you gripping my cock."

You bury your squeal into the flesh of his arm, your arm not currently gripping Jake's wrist, whipping out to find the side of his truck, making a string of lights fall.

Not slow. This is not slow.

"Knowing I'm your first." He bites the soft skin behind your ear. "That your mine."

Your cry is muffled into this arm, and Jake glides his nose up the back of your neck to your ear. "Don't look away, Liz," he soothes. "Let me see your face."

It's the last thing you want him to see, ironically. The faces you make aren't pretty, and your eyes are slammed shut. And you were sure if you did open your eyes, you'd explode at the slight; you spread out so shamelessly open to the sky. Jake's hand between your legs, working you higher and higher off an unknown edge from the flatbed of his truck.

But you do manage to turn your head back, Jake immediately catching your mouth with his in a desperate kiss. When he lets your mouth go, you whine out with a pant, "Fuck Jake, I can't."

"Yes, yes, you can." Your words must have encouraged him because suddenly, his thumb is circling faster, and his fingers are pressing harder, working that spot inside you. Your eyes are screwed shut, tears seeping through as the ball in your abdomen grows tighter and tighter, nails biting into his wrist.

"Are you going to let go for me, darlin'," he gasps into your open mouth, hovering above you. You wanted to, desperately. "Will you let me have it?

You drop your head to his arm, the feeling too much to bear. You are on the edge of something, fire radiating from your core and making your thighs shake. Jake pants into your ear, once, twice before he moans, "Will you cum for me?"

His thumb swipes over your clit as he presses hard on that spot inside you. You keen, lights exploding behind your eyes as you arch your hips towards his hand, legs trembling as you clench around Jake's fingers. The cool breeze from the sea or the cool air from the night sky does nothing to the heat flooding your veins.

He's there. Turning your head back, catching your cries into his mouth, and taking the bruises you're pressing into his arm without flinching. In fact, he's smiling ever so slightly, watching you come apart underneath him.

You weakly turn in his hold, whimpering and trying to bury yourself into his chest as every emotion hits you at once. Jake pulls his fingers from you as you do, and you feel embarrassed at the wetness coating your thighs. Gripping the back of your leg, he rolls, taking you with him. Your body crashes limply onto his chest, and the one leg he's holding straddles his waist.

Your trembling, gripping his shirt to ground yourself and will strength back into your body. There's a hyper-awareness you are not used to dancing across your skin - allowing you to feel the fabric of the blanket underneath you, the chill in the air, Jake's warmth, your release cooling on your thighs and covering his fingers, grasping your bare leg.

Any rational thought has gone out the window. Except for the fact you know Jake could not have gotten off from that.

He's hard against the inside of your thigh, through the denim of his jeans, the rough fabric creating friction against your clit as you rock lightly to the pulses aching in your core. He's groaning with each press, fighting with himself not to cant his hips up into you.

Even as you continue to whimper your aftershocks into his neck, you find yourself trailing your hand down his chest and to his stomach, fingers barely slipping under the waistband of his jeans, just reaching the first few strains of hair.

But Jake grunts, pulling your hand away and shaking his head. He brings it up to his mouth, kissing the palm before stating, "It's not about me right now."

"Jake..."

He doesn't give in to the soft pleading of this name. Instead, he grips the roots of your hair at the base of your skull, ensuring there isn't an inch of space between you as he pulls you close. His other hand is gripping the bare skin of your ass, keeping your dress up around your hips and lower half exposed to the cool air.

This time, you do feel trapped.

He's holding you like you'd be carried off by the breeze, ready to disappear at any second. As if faced with another deployment, off to fight a war with the fear of never making it back. The switch in him is so sudden that the aftershocks of your recent orgasm are reduced to cooling embers, and it only adds to your unease when Jake gasps through a sharp breath, "Just let me hold you and forget about everything else."

The concern you felt for him earlier returns with a vengeance.

Jake's anxious about something, and he's not telling you why. Suddenly, the chill in the air is too cold, the blanket is too rough, and Jake's fingers and the insides of your thighs are chalky, rubbing against your skin.

You focus on breathing instead, trying to calm your rapid heart. You weren't going to hold whatever this was against him.

Because despite not knowing what to think about having your real first sexual experience in the flatbed of Jake's truck, you today were the happiest you had felt in a while, even with literal hell overtaking your life.

But listening to Jake's heartbeat pound under your ear, the paranoia you've ignored so many times before makes a home in your chest, and the allusion that was today dissipates, and everything comes rushing back. Tyler. Bradley. And now, whatever Janet warned Jake about that was making him act this way.

It was all a possibility again.

You couldn't help but feel this silver of happiness wouldn't last that much longer.

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Part 15: Have you ever seen the rain? Coming soon

Wickett ;)

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fortheloveofwonderland · 1 year

Text

You Know My Heart | Part 2/2 | S.R

Not my gif

Part One

Summary - with the wedding rapidly approaching, will Spencer be able to convince you that he’s the man you should be marrying?

A/N - second and final part for @imagining-in-the-margins Wedding Challenge. I have no excuses for why this took so long to post, I’ve had this written since September I just forgot to post it. I’m sorry to those who have been waiting for it.

Pairing - Spencer Reid / Fem! Reader

Category - friends to lovers | angst with happy ending | fluff

Warnings - swearing, pining, mentions of male masturbation, drinking, bachelorette party shenanigans, making out, drunken mistakes, angst, tears.

Word Count - 10.6k

Part Two

92 Days until the Wedding

When Spencer had shown up at your door the following morning with coffee and pastries, you’d almost slammed the door in his face.

But just before you did he’d blurted out the words shopping and on me and your interest had been piqued.

So you let him take you on a shopping trip, deliberately making him spend out on frivolous things you’d never normally buy and you had to admit you were impressed by his commitment to make it up to you.

By the time he almost brought a designer handbag for you, you decided to let him off the hook.

He was about to hand his credit card over, a look of concern for his poor bank account all over his face, when you reached out and gently placed your hand on his arm.

“Don’t.” You shook your head.

He turned to you with a frown, so did the cashier.

“But I-“

“It’s enough. Seriously.” You motioned to all the bags on the floor he’d been lugging around.

The cashier gave you a slightly frustrated look as Spencer tentatively slotted his card away, collected up the bags and let you lead him from the store.

There was a coffee cart outside and you brought the both of you a drink before sitting down on a bench surrounded by your haul.

“You really didn’t need to do any of this.” You spoke, giving him a guilty look.

“I didn’t hear you complaining.” A smirk twitched at the corner of his lips.

“Well you were pretty adamant. I would have been happy with a simple apology.”

“I’ll remember that for next time.” He sipped his coffee. “Because I’m sure there will be a next time. I keep fucking up with you recently and I don’t know why.”

You exhaled, glancing up at the sky as you played with your coffee cup in your hands.

“You’re happy for me, aren’t you Spencer?” You asked without looking at him.

“Of course I am.” He lied, chewing on his lip.

“Do you think I’m…” you looked back at him and he could see the uncertainty in your eyes. “Am I doing the right thing? Or am I just kidding myself thinking this is going to work out?”

That was Spencer’s opening. It was the perfect opportunity for him to tell you exactly what he thought about your impending nuptials.

You were asking him what he thought. You wanted his opinion.

Your eyes practically begged him for the truth, while you rolled your bottom lips nervously between your teeth.

Spencer’s mouth was suddenly dry. The words were on the tip of his tongue, caught somewhere in the back of his throat. The words he’d so desperately wanted to say to you since the day at the airport when you’d introduced your husband to be.

You shouldn’t marry him. This is a mistake. Marrying him will be the biggest mistake you ever make.

You think you love him but you don’t. He thinks he loves you but he doesn’t. Or maybe he does, I don’t know. But I do know that he can’t possibly love you as much as I do.

No one in the world could ever love you like I do. And I know what you’re thinking, why am I telling you this now? Why after ten years of friendship did I decide to tell you my feelings after you got engaged?

The truth is, I was stupid and spent all these years burying my head in the sand. I missed what’s been right in front of my face this whole time.

It wasn’t until we spent time apart that I realised what I’ve probably always felt for you. When you were gone it smacked me around the face like a tonne of bricks.

I am in love with you Y/N. Maybe I always have been, I can’t say for sure. But I can say definitively that I am in love with you now and I will be in love with you for the rest of my life.

So no, I don’t think you’re doing the right thing. Yes, I do think you’re kidding yourself. He is not the man you should marry.

I am.

Marry me Y/N. Be my wife and let me show you what love really is. Let’s grow old together, create a life together we can one day tell our kids and grandkids about.

Marry me, not him. Choose me and I swear you’ll never wonder even for a second if you’re doing the right thing or not because you will know you are.

“Spencer?” You spoke again after he was silent in thought for some time.

He shook his head, banishing his thoughts from his brain with a heavy sigh.

“Do you think you’re doing the right thing?” He drummed his fingers against his cup.

“I think so, yeah.” You nodded.

“Then that’s all that matters.” He smiled a little sadly before looking away from you, taking a sip of his drink. “This coffee tastes like garbage.”

You frowned, watching his profile as he stared off into the distance. He had a strange look on his features, one you couldn’t place.

He looked partially contemplative but with a hint of sadness and you didn’t understand why. He’d purposefully changed the subject too.

Something was definitely bugging him. You just couldn’t tell what it was.

Even after all these years Spencer was sometimes so hard to read. He’d been trained by the FBI to never give away what he was thinking or feeling. He used that to his advantage.

“Yeah, it’s not great.” You sighed in agreement, still watching the side of his face intently. “So uh…I need to tell you something.”

That caught his attention and turned back to face you. Your tone already told him it wasn’t something he was going to like.

“Please don’t tell me you’re pregnant? Is that why you’re getting married? Did he get you pregnant?” His eyes widened at you.

“What?” You shook your head. “No I am not pregnant! Thanks for that though.” You subconsciously rubbed your stomach.

“I didn’t mean…I’m not saying you look pregnant! I just…” he trailed off shaking his head before he could dig the hole any deeper. “What did you want to say?”

You pouted a little at his insinuation before sighing lightly.

“Well, as you know the wedding is in Rome…” you picked at the sleeve of your coffee cup.

“Yeah…?” Spencer frowned at you, trying to read your expression which wasn’t at all hard for him.

It was written all over your face and his frown faded, being replaced by a sadder expression.

“You’re not coming back, are you?”

“No.” You shook your head. “Antonio’s decided to sell his architecture firm and start over back in Rome. His parents are getting older and I think he’s worried he doesn’t have a lot of time left to spend with them. I think it’s good, I think we’ll be happy there.”

You sounded more as though you were trying to convince yourself than Spencer. Spencer just narrowed his eyes on you, scrutinising you.

“The museum were really happy with my work while I was out there and they’ve procured me a role at the Galleria Borghese. They’re helping out with moving costs and everything.” You smiled but Spencer noticed it didn’t reach your eyes.

“You don’t speak Italian.” He scoffed. “How are you going to work in a country where you don’t speak the language?”

“They were actually in need of some English speaking curators. You’ve heard of tourists, right?” You chuckled but it was an uneasy sound.

Spencer grinded his teeth and turned away from you again. You saw the way his jaw squared and tensed and his nostrils flared with heavy breaths.

“Just say what you’re thinking.” You rolled your eyes. “Please don’t bite your tongue around me, Spencer.”

His jaw tightened and he slowly turned back to face you and his eyes were suddenly dark, practically black.

“Trust me when I say,” he pushed himself up from the bench. “If I told you what I was thinking, our friendship would be over.”

You watched him turn on his heels and storm away, tossing his half empty coffee in a trash can on his way.

You chewed on your lip, thinking better of going after him.

Sometimes with Spencer, it was better to just let him work through his emotions on his own. If you went after him, the two of you would fight and you’d done enough of that lately with Spencer.

You finished your coffee on the bench before collecting up your things and grabbing a cab home as your ride had left you stranded.

He’d cool down eventually, he always did. You just had to wait it out.

***

75 Days until the Wedding

If Spencer hadn’t already been sure he was in love with you, he most certainly would have been now.

It was a moment he would never forget for the rest of his life even if he didn’t have an eidetic memory.

The second you stepped out of that dressing room, a slightly bashful look on your face as you chewed on your lip, the rest of the world slipped away.

The sounds of your bridesmaids chattering between glasses of champagne filtered out to silence. They disappeared from his vision, replaced only by you.

You and the wedding dress adorned on your body were the only things in existence that mattered to Spencer.

He was honed in on you like you were the only person in the world. To him, at that moment, you were.

You looked like a princess. Like a fallen angel come to earth to show Spencer his true purpose in life.

You were the sun and all the stars in the sky. You were a goddess.

And Spencer knew without a shadow of uncertainty that you were the love of his life.

The dress was ivory in colour, short sleeved and lacy all across the bodice. It fit you like a glove, as if it had been hand stitched just for you. It hugged your glorious curves and the long, mermaid train draped behind you.

You started heading down through the shop but in his mind you were walking down the aisle to him. The displays of dresses on either side of you became people lining your path towards your soon to be husband.

He stood up from the couch he’d been occupying, imagining himself in his smartest tux, beaming from ear to ear as the most beautiful woman in the world headed his way, to become his wife.

Tears flooded his vision the closer you got. You floated towards him as though you were walking on air, like the ethereal being you were.

His heart constricted in his chest and his stomach swarmed with butterflies as he reached for your hands.

You let him take them and smiled brightly back at him. Your own eyes swam with tears and you rolled your bottom lip between your teeth.

I do, I do. A thousand times I do, he told you subconsciously but said nothing out loud.

He imagined sliding a ring on your finger as you recited your vows to one another. He could hear a voice pronouncing you husband and wife.

I do. I do. I do.

He would draw you into a kiss as you were declared Doctor and Mrs Reid. Faint cheers erupted in his mind and confetti hailed down around you.

You were the one. You were his one, not Antonio’s. This dress deserved to be worn when you married him.

Love didn’t even begin to describe how he felt about you. There were simply no words to accurately depict the way Spencer’s heart ached for you. Love wasn’t enough. This feeling had no definition.

Spencer wanted to relish in it forever. He wanted the two of you to stay like this, trapped in this perfect little bubble and pretend for as long as he could that it was him you were marrying.

But bubbles were so easy to pop.

“This is the one, right?” You sniffed back your tears, giving Spencer’s hands a squeeze.

He swallowed the lump in his throat, suddenly aware that Melody, Tahani, Eliza and the shop assistant were all staring at the both of you.

“Uh…it’s…beautiful.” He snatched his hands from yours and stuffed them in his pockets, taking a few steps back.

“It’s perfect, Y/N!” Tahani squealed, quickly spinning you to face her and the other girls so they could get a better look.

Spencer shrunk away and sat back on the couch while the girls cooed over how amazing you looked.

A tear crept from his eye that he was quick to wipe away. But when he glanced up you were looking over your shoulder right at him.

And if he didn’t know any better, he’d think he gave the game away, because the look you were giving him was almost as sad as he felt.

***

57 Days until the Wedding

“Please, tell me again why you’re doing this.” Luke groaned, looking at the display over Spencer’s shoulder.

“Because I love her and I want to marry her.” Spencer replied without turning around. “I’m swaying towards something more vintage. What do you think?”

“I think you’ve lost your mind.” Luke rolled his eyes.

Spencer straightened up from where he’d been leaning over the counter and looked at the aging jeweller.

“Could you give us a moment, please?” Spencer politely smiled at the man who was quick to slot the trays of rings back into the glass cabinet and lock it behind him before taking his leave.

As if Spencer looked like the kind of man to rob a jewellery store.

“Voice your opinions.” Spencer turned to Luke once the man was out of ear shot. “Once and only once. Get it out of your system and then please help me.”

Luke huffed out a breath, stepping a little closer to Spencer.

“You’re buying a ring.”

“I am.” Spencer nodded. “Are we just stating facts now or…?”

“She’s already engaged, man.” Luke rolled his eyes. “You’re buying a ring for a woman who is going to be married in less than two months.”

“You’re the one that told me to convince her not to marry that guy and to marry me instead.” Spencer folded his arms across his chest.

“Yeah, but I think you’re jumping the gun a little here, bud.” Luke sighed. “If you don’t manage to get her to call off this wedding, you’re going to be out of pocket thousands of dollars with a ring you can’t do anything with.”

Spencer let his arms fall back to his sides and let out a heavy breath.

“We had this…moment.” He pulled a face at how pathetic that sounded when he said it out loud.

Luke raised an eyebrow at him.

“A moment?”

“Yes.”

“Define a moment.”

Spencer sighed loudly, almost instantly wishing he hadn’t mentioned it.

“It doesn’t matter.” He shook his head but he knew Luke wouldn’t drop it.

“It does matter. Tell me.” Luke softened.

Spencer yet again sighed and ran his fingers through his messy locks.

“It was when I went dress shopping with her. She walked out in that dress and I…I fucking forgot how to breathe, Luke. And she walked straight to me and she looked at me like I was the only person in the whole world. I swear she felt for me what I feel for her. I’m sure she was trying to tell me with her eyes that it’s me she wants to marry.” He chewed on his lip, knowing how utterly ridiculous it sounded.

Luke’s facial expression told him just how stupid it did sound.

“Is it possible,” Luke stepped a little closer to him. “That it was all in your head?”

“Of course it’s possible!” Spencer huffed. “I’m losing my mind here, Luke! I have never felt like this before. I’m a fucking mess. But if there is even the tiniest possibility I didn’t make it up and she does feel the same about me, I want to be prepared. So I am buying a ring today and you can either help me or leave.”

Luke subtly rolled his eyes with a small sigh before nodding his head.

“I want to help.” He grumbled slightly. “I just don’t want to see this blow up in your face is all.”

Spencer ignored him, looking over towards the jeweller on the other side of the store and giving him a nod.

When he returned, he gave a Spencer slightly frustrated look that said buy something or stop wasting my time.

Spencer puffed out his chest, looked down at the display case and jabbed his finger at one ring in particular.

It was a white gold Art Deco style ring with a modestly sized diamond set in the middle with a slightly smaller sapphire nestled either side of it. The shoulders were engraved with intricate patterns carved in the metal.

It was simple and elegant. It was beautiful with a slight vintage flare.

It was perfect.

“This one. This is the one.” He spoke with fierce determination and a nod of his head.

“Very good choice, sir.” The man smiled wryly, fishing his keys out of his pocket and unlocking the case again.

Spencer’s stomach coiled in excitement. He would defy anyone to say no to that ring.

Now he just had to decide how he was going to ask you and when. And he’d hope and he’d pray that he was the man you’d choose. Because he simply couldn’t imagine his life without you in it.

***

14 Days until the Wedding

Spencer had been carrying the ring around in his pocket everywhere he went, afraid to let it out of his sight.

He was also afraid you would find it and he wasn’t prepared to give it to you yet, or to lie about why he had it.

Two weeks before the wedding he found himself on a flight to Rome with you and the other bridesmaids, your parents and Antonio and his groomsmen.

He didn’t want to spend the next two weeks in one of the romantic cities in the world with you and him. But he also needed to spend as much time with you as possible as time was running out.

He found himself sitting with you and Antonio, Antonio by the window and him by the aisle, with you sandwiched in between.

It was late and most everyone on the flight was asleep apart from the two of you. You were reading a book and Spencer was just watching you as you did so.

He was mesmerised by you. The way your brows creased when you were confused by something you’d read, the way your lips twitched at the corner when you found something funny. The way you wet the pad of your thumb on your tongue to turn the page and the way you sometimes flicked back a few pages as if to clarify something.

You absolutely fascinated him. Even your simple micro expressions most other people wouldn’t notice were riveting to him. He could be content watching you all day.

After a little while you closed your book and shuffled in your seat when you turned to face him. He’d been so wrapped up in you he didn’t have a chance to turn away and pretend he hadn’t been staring at you.

“Do I have something on my face?” You spoke in hushed tones so as not to disturb anyone.

“What? No.” He frowned.

“Then why are you staring at me?” Your lip curled into a smirk.

“I…can’t sleep.” He shook his head. “And I didn’t want to read.”

“You didn’t want to read?” Your eyebrows shot up. “It must be a cold day in hell.”

Spencer chuckled, trying to stretch his legs but instead bashed his knees on the seat in front of him and groaned. He was too tall for commercial planes.

“Satan himself is knitting wool sweaters.” He smirked as a long forgotten memory came to his mind.

You narrowed your eyes on him briefly as if you were remembering the same thing but you quickly shook it off.

“Now that I’d like to see.” You laughed, scrutinising Spencer slightly. “You’re not getting laid, are you?”

“Excuse me?” His eyes widened in shock at the sudden change in topic.

“Sorry, I’ve just noticed you’ve been a bit…on edge recently. You’re more fidgety than normal. And usually it’s obvious when you’ve gotten laid because you’re always really smug after. I don’t remember the last time I saw you smug.” You shrugged.

You really could be a profiler, he thought. Or maybe it was only because you’d known him so long that you were able to read him so well.

“It has been…a while.” He agreed, drumming his fingers on his thigh.

“Something wrong? In ten years I’ve never known you go through a drought.” You nudged him playfully in the arm.

“I’m just…I don’t know.” He sighed. “Maybe I’m tired of it, you know? Different women all the time, no strings attached sex. Maybe I only want one woman.” He looked into your eyes, trying to communicate what he was thinking without actually saying it.

And just like in the dress shop, he was sure you knew exactly what he was trying to say. There was a brief moment of understanding that passed between the two of you on that quiet plane as you flew at thirty thousand feet.

For a second he thought you knew what he meant. He saw a look fleetingly wash over you as if registering what he was trying to say.

But as soon as it came, it was gone again. And suddenly you started to laugh.

“Oh wow, you almost got there for a second, Spence.” You chuckled, slapping his shoulder. “Spencer Reid with one woman? Man, that’s funny. Hell really would freeze over.”

Spencer forced himself to laugh along with you although he felt like doing anything but. You were never going to take him seriously. He couldn’t undo ten years of behaviour in a matter of months.

He didn’t know who he was trying to kid.

The ring felt like it was burning a hole in his pocket as he felt his heart breaking in his chest.

“Yeah, I almost had you for a moment.” He looked down into his lap so you wouldn’t see the sadness in his eyes. “I just…I guess I’m bored of DC women.”

“Probably because you’ve slept with them all.” You rolled your eyes. “Rome will be like a whole new pool of beautiful women for you. You’ll be back in the game in no time.”

He almost told you that the only beautiful woman he wanted in Rome was the one sat right next to him. Almost. He might even have said it if it wasn’t for the fact someone else spoke up.

“As long as it isn’t any of my sisters.” Antonio stifled a yawn. “Stay away from them.”

Spencer looked over your head at him wondering how much of that conversation he might have heard.

Judging by the look in his face he’d not only heard enough but he’d seen the look on Spencer’s face that you’d missed.

Your fiancé knew he had feelings for you, he was sure of it. Spencer just hoped Antonio would be gentlemanly enough not to mention it.

***

“You don’t get to do this.”

One minute Spencer had been about to slot his key into the lock of his hotel room and the next, Antonio was grabbing his shoulder and spinning him around.

Spencer dropped his duffel bag on the floor and pulled a face.

“Do what?” He played dumb, which was really hard when he was anything but.

“You know exactly what I mean. You had ten years to tell her how you felt! You had all the time in the world and you wasted it. So you do not get to decide you want her when we’re getting married in two weeks.” Antonio squared his shoulders and straightened his back.

He was around Spencer’s height but much broader and muscular than him which made him seem taller somehow.

Spencer mirrored him but didn’t feel at all intimidating.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. She’s my best friend. I don’t have feelings for her.” He folded his arms over his chest.

“Do you think I’m an idiot?”

“Uh…is that a trick question?”

“I’m not blind, Spencer. I see the way you look at her and you need to back off. She’s marrying me. She loves me. Get over it.” Antonio spat.

“She doesn’t give you the doggy bowl look.” Spencer muttered under his breath.

“What?”

“I have a theory.” Spencer smirked at you as he went to reach for the door handle.

You pulled a face, trying to decide if you were going to take the bait. You did.

“Oh, Casanova has a theory?” You raised an eyebrow at him.

“Yes.” His smirk grew. “It’s called the Doggy Bowl Theory.”

You frowned, crossing your arms over your chest at his vague nature.

“Explain.”

He was suddenly crossing the room back towards you, his smirk so high it hit his hairline.

“It’s the look a dog gets right before you put down their bowl. When a woman has that look, it means they're attracted to you.” He looked smugly at you.

“And you’re telling me this, because?” You huffed a little.

“Because it’s the look you’ve been giving me since I got into your bed.”

“Nothing.” Spencer rolled his eyes. “Are we done here?”

“Stay away from her. You missed your chance.” Antonio spat and with that he turned on his heels and marched down the corridor, leaving Spencer alone again.

His time was rapidly running out. If he was going to get you to call off this wedding and be with him, he had to do it soon.

He slotted his hand in his pocket and ran his fingers over the ring box.

Was it possible Antonio was right? Maybe he had missed his chance. Maybe it was time for Spencer to admit defeat and let you be happy with Antonio.

Or maybe it was just time to up the ante.

***

12 Days until the Wedding

Spencer didn’t see much of you for the first two days in Rome due to you being busy with wedding prep and dealing with both yours and Antonio’s families.

He spent the time exploring a little and you weren’t wrong about Rome being full of deliriously attractive women.

Honestly, it was like dangling a carrot in front of a starving donkey. And Spencer was utterly famished.

This had to be the longest he’d gone without sex since his lost his virginity. He was practically climbing the walls, he was so horny and all the gorgeous Italian women were certainly not making that any easier on him.

But Spencer had vowed to himself since he realised his feelings for you that he would not sleep with another woman. You were the person he really wanted. Anyone else would just be a consolation prize.

But right now, a consolation prize had never sounded so good.

He had to remain strong. He couldn’t give into his urges no matter how desperately he wanted to. And so over the course of those two days, Spencer spent an unreasonable amount of time masturbating.

On the first day after his run in with Antonio, he’d gotten thinking about the first night he met you and how he would have given anything to fuck you that night.

So while he was showering the smell of the flight off himself, he masturbated.

He’d gone for a walk and found himself in a coffee shop where an unnecessarily beautiful woman kept making eyes at him across the cafe. So he’d jerked off in the bathroom.

Then he’d gone for a bite to eat after a walk around the Colosseum and his waitress had just been begging to be fucked. Her short skirt and low cut blouse left him reeling so once again he’d locked himself in the bathroom and masturbated.

That night he’d gone for drinks with your bridesmaids and Antonio’s groomsmen and for whatever reason Melody had been flirting with him like nobody’s business. Her previously frosty demeanour towards him had turned sultry with a few drinks.

And instead of taking her back to his room and fucking her, he once again masturbated.

The second day he stayed in his room, thinking without outside stimuli, he couldn’t possibly get so worked up.

He was wrong.

It only left more time for him to think about you.

He played over all the scenarios in his head over the years that could have led to the two of you falling into bed together.

There had been more than a few occasions when things had heated up between the two of you, only for you to push him away at the last minute.

The night of the Halloween party when you’d first met, he could have gotten you into bed if only he’d tried harder.

The following year after a few too many drinks at Garcia’s holiday party, he’d teased you under the mistletoe, and almost had you on his hook.

“Stop it.” You batted his hand away, trying to suppress your giggle.

“Stop what? I’m not doing anything.” He shrugged, raising his arm over your head again.

“Stop it!” You smacked his arm and this time the laugh erupted from your lips. “Spencer, I mean it!”

“I really don’t know what you’re talking about.” He smirked.

You glanced upwards and Spencer’s eyes followed to the piece of mistletoe he was dangling from his fingers over your head.

“Oh wow, how did that get there?” He joked.

“Put it away.” Your eyes danced with amusement.

“Can’t.” He shrugged again. “Holiday rules dictate that if you find yourself standing under mistletoe with someone…”

“I am not going to kiss you.” The playful glint in your eyes grew.

“How about I kiss you?” He stepped a little closer, daring to place his free hand on your hip.

“Spencer…” you trailed off, not sure where you were going with that particular sentiment.

“It’s holiday law, Y/N. I don’t make the rules.”

“How many women have you actually gotten into bed with this play?”

“You’d be surprised.” He chuckled lightly. “It only has a very specific window of time when it works though.”

“December I can only assume?”

His hand was still on your hip and you hated how nice it felt.

“Precisely.” He stepped even closer. “So we’re under the mistletoe and like I say, holiday rules dictate-“

“Oh for the love of god just kiss me already!” You surprised him when you blurted that out.

And Spencer didn’t need to be told twice.

He leaned in close, moving his hand from your hip to your cheek and cupping your face gently.

But before he could so much as brush his lips against yours, Garcia appeared out of nowhere, completely ruining the moment.

“Ohh is that mistletoe?” She drunkenly chirruped before snatching it from his hand. “Thanks boy wonder! Now where is my chocolate thunder?”

The mood had been ruined after that and you’d avoided Spencer for the rest of the evening.

Oftentimes when the two of you were drunk you would become flirty with him and there were more moments than Spencer could count where something had almost happened between the two of you.

Almost.

And he played through every single one of them on a loop while he spent the day in his room. And he masturbated more times than he could count.

He eventually fell asleep after one too many orgasms, feeling nowhere near as satisfied as he would have liked.

***

The following day he couldn’t even think about masturbating. He’d well and truly exhausted himself the last two days but at least he wasn’t horny anymore.

At least he wasn’t, until he saw you.

The hotel you were all staying in was the same place you would be getting married in twelve days time and set just on the outskirts of the city with its own vineyard and winery on site.

Spencer slept most of the morning and eventually surfaced from his room in the middle of the afternoon.

He found you outside at one of the tables on the patio area, alone, with your head in a book.

You wore a lilac coloured, floor length sundress, with little spaghetti straps and low cut bodice.

The second he stepped outside his eyes couldn’t help but land on your immaculate cleavage and within an instant he was turned on again.

How was that even possible?

He took a few deep breaths, adjusting his slacks as he walked over towards you.

Sensing his presence you glanced up from your book and smiled at him.

“Hey stranger,” he smiled back as he reached you.

“Hey, sorry I’ve been MIA. It’s been a crazy few days.” You pushed your chair back and stood up. “We’ve been house hunting.”

Spencer’s heart plummeted to his stomach at the thought of you looking for houses in a city that was almost four and a half thousand miles away from DC. And with another man no less.

“Sounds fun.” He nodded, trying to hide the disappointment from his face. “Are you busy now?”

“Nope, I’ve got some free time.” You smiled. “What did you have in mind?”

You and me in my room with no clothes on.

Or you and me with no clothes on, over this table right here.

Or you and me just about anywhere with no clothes on.

“Wanna take a walk? I haven’t checked out the vineyard yet.” He said instead of any of the things that were floating around his head.

“Sure.” You nodded, tucking your book inside your purse and slinging it over your shoulder.

You fell into step together, heading down the bank at the side of the hotel towards the vineyard beyond.

It was a warm day and Spencer wished he’d had the forethought to pack anything other than pants and shirts, as sweat gathered in his armpits and on his brow.

You were both silent as you strolled, Spencer was preoccupied with his own thoughts. This was probably the only time he was likely to get you alone and most likely the only chance he would have to tell you how he felt before it was too late.

He just had to get his words in order, but they were a jumble in his nervous brain. He slid his hands in his pockets and toyed with the ring box as he tried to formulate a sentence.

You glanced at him out of the corner of your eye, watching the way his brows scrunched up.

“What are you thinking about?” You startled him a little when you spoke.

“Huh?” He looked over at you in surprise.

“I can practically see the cogs turning in your head. What’s on your mind?”

“I uh…” he swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry. “Do you remember the first time we went to Garcia’s holiday party together?”

“Vaguely?” You frowned slightly.

Spencer slowed his pace until he came to a stop and you did the same. You looked at him curiously.

“Mistletoe.” He smiled wryly at you.

“Ah.” You laughed slightly nervously. “How could I forget? You were practically begging me to kiss you.”

“I don’t beg.” He scoffed, fingers still brushing over the ring box.

“Not how I remember it. Oh please Y/N I have mistletoe you have to kiss me it’s a holiday rule.” You impersonated him.

“I sound nothing like that.” He pulled a face.

“You sound exactly like that.” You teased him. “Why are you thinking about a holiday party from nine years ago?”

Because I wanted to kiss you then and I want to kiss you now. Because I’ve been so stupid all these years. Because I love you and I want to spend the rest of my life with you.

“No reason.” He shrugged.

“Liar.”

Spencer exhaled, cupping the box in his hand. It was now or never. Do or die. It was time to come clean about his feelings.

“Fine, you really want to know the truth?” He stepped closer to you and you nodded. “The truth is that I am utterly and completely in l-“

“Y/N there you are!” Eliza interrupted him, suddenly heading your way with Tahani and Melody in tow.

Spencer sighed and rolled his eyes. Their timing couldn’t have been worse. Just as he’d finally worked up the nerve to tell you how he felt.

“What’s going on?” You eyed the girls up.

“We’re going out! It’s your bachelorette party!” Melody squealed, forcing a bright pink sash into your hands.

You laughed as you looked at the gold words of Bride-To-Be emblazoned on the sash.

“Right now?” You slipped it over your head and Spencer took a few steps back, feeling like a spare part.

“Right now!” Tahani grabbed your hand. “Come on both of you, we’ve got a schedule to keep.”

“Can we just have a minute?” You pulled your hand free of Tahani’s. “Spencer and I were just…”

You looked at him and he was sure you knew exactly what he’d been about to say before you were interrupted.

It felt like you were silently begging him to finish his sentence. Did you want to hear him say it? Would you leave Antonio if he did? Did Spencer want to be the kind of man that would try and break up a soon to be married couple?

Antonio had been right, as much as Spencer hated to admit it. He’d had ten years to realise he had feelings for you and he’d missed his chance.

You were happy with Antonio, probably happier than he’d ever seen you. He didn’t want to ruin that. He wanted you to be happy above all else.

All four of you were staring at him, waiting for him to speak. He plastered on a smile, shaking his head a little.

“Let’s go, we’ll talk later. It wasn’t important anyway.” He knew you didn’t believe that, but you nodded all the same.

He had to let you go. He had to let you get married and be happy with Antonio.

Even at the expense of his own happiness.

***

Another quarter landed in the bucket, jingling against the other coins at the bottom. You smiled a little shyly as the stranger planted a kiss on your cheek and your friends cheered.

You’d been against the idea of it to begin with. Selling cheek kisses for quarters seemed a little demeaning but your friends had all insisted it was all part of the bachelorette party fun.

After a few cocktails, you started seeing the funny side and now had a bucket full of quarters and half the men in the bar's lips had brushed against your cheek.

You found Spencer sitting alone, swirling his whiskey around in his glass. You slipped in the booth beside him, placing the bucket on the table and hearing the coins clank again.

“Someone’s popular.” He nodded towards the bucket.

“What can I say? Italian men seem to love me.” You giggled.

“Can’t say I blame them.” He gave you a soft smile but there was a look in his eyes you couldn’t place.

“Well there’s one American man who has not put a quarter in my bucket.” You tried to ignore the look. “Cough it up Doc.”

Spencer chuckled slightly, reaching into his jacket pocket for his wallet and retrieving a quarter. He dropped it in the bucket, but never took his eyes off of you.

“Now what?”

“Now you give me a kiss.” You turned your head slightly to the side and tapped your index finger on your cheek.

Spencer felt his breath catch in his throat. He wanted nothing more than to grab you and turn you back to face him so he could crash his lips against yours.

But if this was the closest he got to that, he’d take it.

He took a few breaths before edging closer, catching the scent of your lavender shampoo and your perfume as he got closer.

He felt heady from your smell as he cautiously pressed his lips against your flesh, closer to the corner of your mouth than your cheek.

Your skin was soft beneath his lips and he swore he felt a spark of electricity pass between you.

Something animalistic took over in Spencer and he was powerless to stop his next move.

He took hold of your jaw, cupping it in his hand and turned you to face him. Your eyes met his and an understanding was shared. You wanted him to kiss you. And he wasn’t going to disappoint.

You both closed your eyes simultaneously and you felt Spencer’s breath fan across your face. Goosebumps flared on your skin at the small gesture and your stomach coiled into knots.

You had never wanted someone to kiss you more in your life. You felt as though you needed Spencer to kiss you, like if he didn’t you might crumble into a million pieces.

His lips brushed cautiously over the corner of your mouth and you couldn’t hold back the small whimper that escaped your mouth at the contact.

You had been in love with this man for longer than you could even fathom. Just because you were marrying Antonio, it had never changed that fact.

You’d spent so many years wondering what it might be like to kiss him and now you were on the precipice of finding out. And you were ready to dive over the edge even if Spencer didn’t intend on catching you.

His hand moved from your jaw to the back of your neck and then his lips suddenly slammed against yours with bruising force, causing you to gasp.

Spencer tried to slow himself down, take his time, in case this was the only chance he ever got to kiss you. But his hunger for you took over and he just couldn’t help himself.

When you gasped, your lips parted enough for him to plunge his tongue inside of your mouth and deepen the kiss. In response you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling his body closer to yours.

You tasted like the sugary cocktails you’d been drinking and a slight hint of mint. It was intoxicating, otherworldly. Spencer didn’t have any words to describe it.

Fireworks erupted behind his closed lids and his heart felt as though it was soaring. It wasn’t awkward or messy like first kisses usually were. It was as though the two of you had been doing this your entire lives.

You moved together in perfect rhythm and it was barely any time at all before Spencer felt himself growing hard in his pants.

Little whines and moans were leaving your lips and you held onto him for dear life, afraid you might actually float away.

The kiss was passionate and needy, two people who had fought their attraction to one another for too long and couldn’t resist anymore. It was desperate and hungry and you wanted Spencer to throw you across the table and fuck you right in the middle of the bar.

By the time you both dared to pull back you were panting heavily, lips slightly swollen.

You stared at each other while you fought to catch your breaths, so many unspoken words passing between you.

But before you could get any actual words out, Spencer was suddenly on his feet, pushing past you out of the booth.

“I uh…need a drink.” He croaked before he fled.

You stared in his wake, your brain a haze of lust of confusion.

What the fuck had just happened?

Spencer had kissed you and then bolted before you’d caught your breath. Was this how he was with his lays? Fuck ‘em and leave ‘em before they can even understand what’s happened?

Your lungs were on fire and your lips burnt from his kiss. You run your fingers over them, as if you could still feel him there.

Could you really get married to another man after a kiss like that? There was no way a kiss that magical could be just a kiss. You practically tasted Spencer’s feelings in that kiss. No one was just that good.

There had been so many moments over the past few months where you’d thought Spencer was looking at you differently. There had been moments between you when you were sure he had some kind of feelings for you.

You’d ignored them up until now, but all those moments combined with that kiss had to mean something.

And you needed to know once and for all. You needed to know what Spencer was feeling, what it all meant.

You needed to know if you were marrying the right man. Because right now, you weren’t so sure you were.

***

A few hours later you’d pulled at all your courage as you stood outside Spencer’s room. This conversation was inevitably going to go one of two ways.

Either you’d been imagining everything in your desperation for Spencer to love you. You would confront him and he’d tell you he had no idea what you were talking about and you’d never be able to look him in the eyes again, thus ruining ten years of friendship.

Or he would tell you that you weren’t imagining it, he did have feelings for you and you would be left to decide between Spencer and Antonio.

Either way someone was going to get hurt.

You exhaled heavily, hoping to get rid of all your nerves before you knocked on the door.

“Oh shit.”

You heard Spencer’s voice carry through the door.

“Fuck. Just…one second!”

He sounded out of breath and you frowned to yourself. You heard some scrabbling about from the other side of the door for a few seconds before it suddenly flew open.

Spencer’s hair was all over the place and his face was slightly flushed. He wore nothing but a towel slung low around his waist but you noticed instantly his skin wasn’t wet from a shower.

“Oh…uh…hi Y/N.” He rolled his bottom lip between his teeth. “I was uh…just about to shower.”

The bright red, glowing hickey on his neck was the first thing that made your stomach turn. But when you heard the woman’s voice from inside the room, you were about ready to hurl.

“Spence, come back to bed!” The voice called and your blood ran cold.

You’d know that voice anywhere. You’d grown up hearing that voice damn near every day

You saw Spencer’s face fall in an instant and you stumbled backwards a little.

“Y/N…I can explain.” He choked out but you were shaking your head.

“What’s to explain?” Your voice cracked as you spoke. “Have fun with Melody.”

“Y/N, it’s not…I mean it is what it looks like but I-I…please let me explain!” He begged but you kept backing away from him.

“I’ve gotta go.” You spun away from him and you ran in the opposite direction.

Your legs were shaking so violently you didn’t know how you didn’t collapse. Spencer continued calling after you and you heard him padding down the hall behind you.

You reached your room and managed to get inside and slam the door before he reached you. The second you were inside your legs gave way and you fell to the floor in front of the door and the floodgates holding back your tears broke.

How could you have thought for even a second that Spencer had feelings for you? Were you really so naive to think a playboy like Spencer could ever have feelings for anyone?

You allowed yourself to get sucked into a fantasy. For years all you’d wanted was for Spencer to love you and after one stupid kiss you’d let yourself get your hopes up.

Spencer didn’t love you. Spencer wasn’t capable of love. A leopard can’t change its spots anymore than a lothario like Spencer can.

You pulled your legs close to your body, wrapping your arms around them and resting your chin on your knees while you sobbed.

It was only a matter of seconds before there was a frantic knocking on the door behind you.

“Y/N, please talk to me.” Spencer spoke through the wood.

You quieted your sobs but Spencer could hear your breathing.

“Y/N, I’m sorry. I’m a complete fucking idiot. She threw herself at me and I’m…I’m weak ok? I’m pathetic and I’m weak. I didn’t sleep with her though. We…we made out. She took my clothes off. I was…I was about to kick her out I swear. I promise you, I was not going to sleep with her.” He felt foolish talking through the door whilst standing in the corridor of a nice hotel in only a towel.

But it didn’t matter. He wasn’t going anywhere until you talked to him.

“Why did you even come to my room? Please, just answer me that.” He begged, not expecting an answer.

There was a long stretch of silence and Spencer didn’t think you were going to speak.

He heard you exhale loudly and then you finally spoke, so quietly he barely heard you.

“I wanted to talk.” You sniffed. “About…about that kiss.”

Spencer closed his eyes as he felt his tears gathering, pressing his palms against the door.

He couldn’t hold back any longer. The words came spilling out his mouth before he had a chance to stop them.

“Please.” He croaked. “Please don’t marry him.”

“S-Spencer.” You choked on another sob. “It’s been ten years…”

“Don’t marry him.” He repeated, pressing his palms harder against the door as though he might be able to push his way through.

“All these years, Spencer. And you’re doing this now?” Your voice was haggard, punctuated with sobs.

“I know. I know.” Tears escaped his eyes as he opened them again, silently rolling down his cheeks. “Let me in. Please let me in.”

“No.” You hugged your legs closer to your chest. “You’re only doing this because you’re afraid of losing me. You don’t have feelings for me Spencer. You’re just scared.”

“That’s not true.”

“It is Spencer.” You chewed on your lip. “I need someone who’s going to be there for me, no matter what. Someone who actually loves me. Someone I can trust. I’m marrying Antonio, Spencer.”

Spencer choked on a loud sob of his own, resting his forehead against the cool wood door.

“I understand.” He croaked. “I hope you’re happy together, I really do. But I can’t watch you marry him. I can’t stand there and pretend that I don’t think you’re doing the wrong thing. I can’t be a part of this.”

He took a step back from the door, wiping his tears with the back of his hand.

“Goodbye Y/N.” He whispered.

You felt your heart shattering into pieces at the thought of Spencer walking away. Suddenly, without meaning to, you were up on your feet.

But when you threw the door open, he was already gone and the hallway was empty.

Your bottom lip quivered and you closed your eyes as you stepped backwards in the room.

“Goodbye Spencer.” You muttered, before you closed the door again both physically and metaphorically.

***

The Wedding Day

When he’d landed back in the states Spencer went straight from the airport to Luke’s apartment. The older man had allowed him to cry on his shoulder between glasses of whiskey while Spencer explained the whole sorry thing.

And bless him for not once mentioning the ring he’d brought or saying I told you so.

He stayed with Luke for two days before going back to his own apartment. His bags remained unpacked by the front door for the next few weeks.

The only thing Spencer had the energy for was to drag himself from the bed to the toilet and back again. The rest of the time he stayed curled up under the sheets, the engagement ring he’d brought taunting him on the pillow.

He considered going back to work early just for something to occupy his mind but he didn’t have the willpower to leave the apartment.

His heart was in pieces. He swore he could feel it physically shattering in his chest although logically he knew that wasn’t possible. But this was all such a new and alien feeling to Spencer.

He’d never been in love before, never had his heart broken. He slept around, kept women at arms length so as to avoid this exact emotion.

Over the years he’d let his guards slip, he’d let you get close and never realised the ramifications that would have.

But now he was feeling the full force of it. He couldn’t ignore it, or push past it like he did every other trauma he’d suffered in his life. This was begging to be felt, demanding to be noticed.

He’d lost the love of his life and his best friend in one fell swoop. You were marrying Antonio and staying in Rome. And Spencer had to try and reconcile the fact he would surely never see you again.

Over the course of almost two weeks there were a lot of knocks on his front door.

It started with Luke checking in on him daily. And then Garcia bringing over baked goods which were now going stale in the kitchen.

JJ and Emily came by as did Tara and Matt and Rossi at various points.

The knocking on the door got irritating and eventually he’d just left the thing unlocked to save getting up.

So when after nearly two weeks of this, there was another knock on the door, he groaned with a roll of his eyes.

“It’s open!” He grumbled from his position on the couch.

His bedsheets had started to smell so he’d spent the last few days curled up on the couch instead. The smell however had followed him, and it took him longer than it should have to realise it was coming from him.

He was grumpier than ever today, on the day that you were getting married. He couldn’t stop picturing you walking down the aisle in that dress and exchanging vows with Antonio, becoming his wife.

He really didn’t have the patience for whoever was at his door right now.

The knock came again as he tightened his old robe around his body.

“It’s open! Jeez.” He called louder this time.

But once again there was another knock.

He huffed out a breath and angrily pushed himself up off the couch before storming towards the door.

“For fuck sake, I said it’s o-“ he threw the door open and his words died in his throat when he saw who was standing there on his doorstep.

He stared blankly at you, as though he had no idea who you were. His expression was completely unreadable.

You scuffed the toe of your shoe on the wooden floor, chewing on your lip.

“Uh…hey?” You offered him a small shrug.

He continued to stare at you, blinking a few times to try and clear the fog surrounding his brain.

“W-why…what are y-you…why?” His voice was hoarse and croaky where he hadn’t spoken in what felt like days.

“You left.” You chewed harder on your lip to stem the tears gathering in your eyes. “You just left.”

“I told you, I couldn’t watch you marry him. Why are you here? Why are you standing in my doorway on your wedding day?” His heart ached for you. You were so close he could reach out and touch you.

But he didn’t. He couldn’t.

You sighed and shrugged again.

“Because I love you.” You replied like it was the simplest answer in the world. “So here I am standing in your doorway. I’ve always been standing in your doorway.”

Spencer felt his own tears flood his vision. He was desperate to touch you, to hold you. But he refrained.

“Why isn’t your husband with you?” He choked out, bitterness dripping from tongue.

You sniffed back your tears and gave him a shaky smile.

“I uh…I was kinda hoping he was.” You fished in your back pocket and before Spencer knew what was happening, you were dropping to one knee in front of him.

You pulled out a giant red ring pop, the kind Spencer hadn’t seen since he was a child and held it towards him.

“It was the best I could do on short notice. It’s the only kind of ring you’re going to find at an airport.” You chuckled lightly, a little nervously. “Spencer, I have loved you for ten long years. You are the only man for me. And if you meant what you said in Rome, if you really meant it-“

“Of course I meant it.” He cut you off, gripping you by your wrists and pulling you back to your feet. “But this isn’t right. Just…just…one second.”

You frowned as he turned away from you and ran back inside his apartment. You stood there in confusion, still holding the ring pop.

You took a few tentative steps inside the apartment as he disappeared inside his bedroom.

You watched with a frown as he fumbled picking something up off his bed and soon he was barrelling back towards you, faster than you’d ever seen him move.

Your eyes landed on the black velvet ring box in his open palm and you gasped, heart skipping a beat.

A large smile was plastered on Spencer’s face as he lowered himself to one knee in front of you.

“I meant it, Y/N. I meant all of it. I’ve been carrying this ring around for months hoping to find the words to tell you that I am utterly and inconceivably in love with you and that I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”

He opened the box and plucked the ring from its little cushion nested inside and took hold of your hand.

At some point your tears had sprung free and were rolling down your cheeks.

“Y/N, will you marry me?”

“Yes. Yes! Of course I’ll marry you, Spence!” You nodded frantically as he slipped the ring on your finger.

You helped him to his feet and he was quick to pull you into his arms and crash your lips together. Ten years worth of feelings came pouring out in a single kiss.

Spencer wished he’d realised his feelings for you sooner and hadn’t wasted so much time not being with you, but he knew he’d never waste another second.

He cupped your face and deepened the kiss, finally feeling like he’d found his rightful place in this world.

Tomorrow he was taking you to Vegas or Atlantic City or wherever you wanted to go and the two of you would tie the knot. He wasn’t waiting another day to be your husband.

But tonight as he started leading you through to the bedroom, the only thing on his mind was getting you undressed and finally getting to be with you the way he’d been desperate for since the first time you met.

He laid you down on the mattress and climbed on top of you, smiling at the perfect woman he was soon to make his wife.

“There it is.” You smirked up at him, a playful glint in your eyes.

“What?” He frowned a little.

You reached up and cupped his jaw, feeling his spiky stubble beneath your fingertips.

“The doggy bowl look. I don’t know how I didn’t see it before.”

“I do not have the doggy bowl look.” He scoffed.

“Oh you totally do.” You laughed. “You’re completely starved, Doctor.”

He laughed too as he stroked your hair back off your face before bowing his head to kiss you again.

To think if it hadn't been for one Halloween night and him slipping into bed with the wrong woman, he might never have met you.

Maybe he’d unknowingly left a piece of his heart in your bed that night and you’d kept it all these years. And because of that you knew his heart inside and out, in ways he wasn’t even sure he did.

But the one thing he did know, was that his heart beat only for you. It always would. And it probably always had.

***

Ten Years Ago

You typed your number into the device before handing it back to Spencer. He smiled brightly at you, a smile that caused your stomach to tighten.

“Thanks.” He pocketed the phone, hovering by the door. “So uh…now what?”

“Now you leave.” You chuckled lightly.

“Are you sure you want me to leave? Because I don’t think you do.” His eyes were heavy and filled with lust and you couldn’t deny it made you hot under the collar.

But you were not caving. No matter how stupidly attractive he was, you were not falling into bed with him.

“I’m very sure.” You stood your ground.

“See I don’t buy it.” He shook his head.

“You don’t buy that not every woman wants to sleep with you? Trust me you are not that attractive.” You lied, hoping your expression didn’t give away how gorgeous you really thought him.

“I have a theory.” Spencer smirked at you as he went to reach for the door handle.

You pulled a face, trying to decide if you were going to take the bait. You did.

“Oh, Casanova has a theory?” You raised an eyebrow at him.

“Yes.” His smirk grew. “It’s called the Doggy Bowl Look.”

You frowned, crossing your arms over your chest at his vague nature.

“Explain.”

He was suddenly crossing the room back towards you, his smirk so high it hit his hairline.

“It’s the look a dog gets right before you put down their bowl. When a woman has that look, it means they're attracted to you.” He looked smugly at you.

“And you’re telling me this, because?” You huffed a little.

“Because it’s the look you’ve been giving me since I got into your bed.” His smugness grew and you wanted to slap the look right off of his beautiful face.

“You really do think a lot of yourself, don’t you?” You folded your arms.

“No but you certainly do. I’ll leave now but I am going to call you. And trust me when I say, when you see me in my best suit, not covered in fake blood, and I lay on my charm…” he stepped even closer, hooking his finger under your chin and looking you right in the eyes. “You’ll be begging for me.”

You swallowed a lump in your throat, almost resorting to begging him now. Your knees were weak and it was a miracle you didn’t fall down.

But you would not let him have the satisfaction of knowing the effect he had on you.

“It will be a cold day in hell if you ever get me into bed, you cocky son of bitch.” You stepped out of his touch and his hand fell to his side.

“I’ll tell Satan to get knitting those wool sweaters.” He shot you one last look before turning back towards the door and sauntering to it. “It was an absolute pleasure to meet you, Y/N.”

“I wish I could say the same.” You scoffed as he opened the door and stepped out into the hall.

He gave you one last smile, one that felt like it knocked all the air from your lungs, before he was suddenly gone.

As you fell back to your bed and closed your eyes, you saw Spencer Reid behind your closed lids.

And for whatever reason, you knew your story was far from over.

Taglist

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#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction

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