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a-b-riddle · 1 day

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Part 7

Can't stop thinking about how the 141 met reader

(she's a long one. not entirely happy with it either so may edit later)

No harm done yet.

You never saw Simon actually hurt anyone. Johnny and Kyle would share stories about poor recruits who fucked around and eventually found out that Simon had no issue beating them within an inch of their life.

You knew he had a reputation and, like the rest of them, had blood on his hands. But it never bothered you. Didn't make you think twice about loving him or seeing him as the protector he had always been to you. To be frank, you could never actually picture any of them being violent.

But his voice... Fuck. His voice. It fucking rattled you. You actually feared for those fucking idiots now. Sure, they deserved to have their asses kicked, but an ass-kicking was probably going to be a welcomed after thought to whatever Simon would do.

You rinsed off, not bothering to wash your hair, but needing to wash up before getting in the bed. Hoping the scalding hot water washed away the uneasiness on your skin that had began to settle into your bones.

Even feeling fresh and laying in clean sheets, you still found yourself tossing and turning wondering exactly what did Simon do?

Did he walk away? Realizing you weren't worth the trouble, did he just tell them to knock it off?

You had stupidly expected Simon to check in. To check if you made it home alright or at least to let you know he was okay. So you waited... And you waited. You had half a mind to call him yourself before remembering it wasn't your place anymore to care. You had cared enough for the five of you.

It was well past two in the morning before you finally called it a night.

The next morning, still nothing from Mr. Riley. Not a 'did you home alright?' or 'are you okay?' text. Nada. Zilch.

Whatever.

Fuck him.

You had to open up shop, but luckily your Saturday mornings were much more relaxed. The shop wouldn't be open until 10, so you had the time to sleep in and enjoy the morning.

By noon, Mere had sent you several texts reminding you that you had promised to go out. You had tried to dissuade her. The encounter with those men last night had brought back sour memories. One involving handsome men coming to your rescue when it was most certainly needed.

You had tried to bail. Giving her any excuse you could: Last night put you on edge. You no longer wanted to go out. After last weekend, you just needed some down time.

Eventually you had realized she was not taking no for an answer after she had shown up to your apartment, already ready for a night out.

"You're not wearing that, are you?" Mere asked. Mere was in her usual Saturday femme-fatal attire. The black leather pants that accentuated her curves and red corset paired well with her freshly box dyed color black hair.

She looked more like a dominatrix than someone who worked at an attorney's office. Even if both professions included bending someone over and fucking them for all their worth. You wondered who would charge more by the hour....

You had pulled out a off white lace square neck top and a pair of high waisted medium washed baggy jeans. A perfectly cute outfit for a night out. Which was your defense when she had suggested you needed to change.

Tab had arrived later than expected (something about a system being down at work), but made up for it by bringing a pre-game snack. Yes, you had officially reached the age where you no longer starved yourself hours before going out to get more drunk quicker and cheaper. No you had to eat carbs or else you wouldn't be able to leave your room the next day as you pathetically nurse a hangover.

Tab wore a denim skirt. If you could even call it that. It paired well with the white tank top that you could make out the shape of her nipple piercing.

But they looked hot. Really hot.

"This is a perfectly acceptable outfit."

"For a day at market, not for trying to get laid."

"I don't want to get laid." You said, rummaging through your closet, yet again. "Getting laid is what got me in this mess in the first place."

A little over two years ago

"Fuck him." Tabitha wrapped her arms around your shaking body as you continued to sob. "He was a prick who didn't fucking deserve you."

"He couldn't even get you to cum." Mere felt the need to remind you as if that would somehow lessen the blow of your heartbreaking into a million shards. The shrapnel feeling like it would kill you.

"I loved him," your voice is small. "I fucking loved him." You had been dating for almost three years. You had his grandmother's ring on your fucking hand for God's sake. "I'm so stupid."

"You are not stupid." Tabitha gave you a squeeze. "He was a liar and a fucking coward." Meredith rubbed her thumb on you bare leg, offering physical reassure. Letting you know even if she wasn't the hugger Tabs was, she was still here.

"You can't keep locked up in this apartment." She was unfortunately right. You had not only barricaded yourself in your apartment for two weeks, but you hadn't returned to your bedroom. The scene of the crime. "You need to get out."

"Yeah," Tabitha rubbed your arm as if trying to coax you out your metaphorical shell. "Get some fresh air. We can go grab a treat. Maybe go out for some coffee." It didn't surprise you that Tabitha was offering a treat to entice you to leaving your sanctuary.

"I was thinking going to a bar." It also didn't surprise you that Mere offered her way of coping. Getting so drunk that you forgot what you even sad about. Or going out and finding someone to fuck the sadness out of her.

"Because getting alcohol in her system in this state is just what she needs." Tabitha was the mom of the group whereas Mere was the fun drunk aunt. They balanced one another out.

"Actually," you said, giving a pathetic sniffle. "Going out would be nice." Getting away from the apartment is what you need. And going out would be the excuse you would need to get yourself all dolled up.

What you hadn't planned for was getting so pissed that you had manage to breakaway from your friends. Searching for them in teh crowd of people. Failing and when you pulled out your phone were met with a completely black screen.

Dead. Perfect.

The same moment you swore the night couldn't get any worse, it did.

He looked the same. Same as he been four months ago when he asked you to become his wife. Same as he had been two weeks ago when you had caught him fucking another girl. The girl he told you not to worry about. The girl he insisted was just one of the guys. A girl you had told him time and time again would fuck him the moment she had the chance.

It wasn't always great to be right.

When your eyes connected, your body had went into immediate flight mode. Every neuron in your body was shooting out signals of RUN RUN RUN RUN RUN. So that's exactly what you did.

You fucking bolted.

Or felt like you bolted. But you could only scurry so fast in chunky heels while simultaneously pulling down your skirt that had decided to ride up. Aching to show your ass for all of London to see.

You had made it a quarter of the way back to your apartment. Your feet aching. Toes pinched together from the strap digging into them.

"Baby, please!" You heard him before you felt his arm clamp down on your shoulder. Hard. When did his touch become something heavy? Something that practically burned you.

You turned. Eyes brimming with unshed tears as you hissed at him to leave you the fuck alone. The begging came, but you turned around. Determined to go home. He didn't deserve the chance to explain himself and he could most certainly shove his apology up his ass.

He wouldn't shut up. Insisting it was a mistake. A one time thing her fault. How she seduced him. As if he were the victim in all of this. You weren't buying it. Not for one moment. One doesn't accidentally invite some slut over and fall balls deep into her while they are in the same bed he shares with his fiancée.

It wasn't until you were in a more dimly lit area that he had gotten the nerve to grab you. His grip was firm on your arms as he held you in place. "Listen to me!" His voice was panicked.

The feeling of anger slowly began to dim as something else began to rise.

Fear.

You were afraid.

You were in a part of town not many people were out and about in at this time of night. No bystanders to really take note of the scene, or at least not any caring enough to stand by and watch; even for entertainment.

Your friends didn't know where you were at and you were tipsy. And alone.

"Cardan," you swallowed, trying to steady your voice. "Please let me go."

"Not until you talk to me," his fingers dug into you. "We can work this out, okay? It was one mistake." He tried to argue, his voice rising, soaked in desperation. "What's one mistake compared to three years?"

"Cardan," you tried to pull away, his grip only tightening. "You're hurting me." It came out as a pathetic whimper. You were so close to crying, too afraid to scream.

"Hey!" A voice barked from behind you. It caused your whole body to stiffen."Get your fucking hands off her. Someone noticed. Someone was here. Someone was here. Someone was here.

"We are having a conversation." Cardan's eyes left you, looking at whoever stood behind you.

"The lass said to leave her be." Another voice. Someone else. Two (three if you counted yourself, but in that moment you couldn't) people against one. There was no a possibility of you getting the fuck out of this situation.

Cardan stood firm. His eyes looking past you. A silent refusal to back down.

"Either you let her go," another voice. Another accent different that the first two. "Or we fucking make you."

"One against four. Odds aren't in your favor, mate." Four. Four men stood behind you. Faceless strangers there to help you.

"This doesn't concern you." Cardan bit out.

"Aye," Scottish. The second guy was definitely Scottish. "I think it does if she's tellin' ye' to piss off and yer bein' a bawbag about it."

"So what'll it be?" The third voice, deep and threatening, yet still so... calming. As if the vibrations from his deep, rich pitch washed over you.

Cardan looked back at you, his eyes not as manic. He realized he didn't have a chance. This was a fight he had to walk away from or else he wouldn't be walking away from it at all. "I'll swing by tomorrow, okay?" He asked.

You couldn't do anything, but nod. Agree that you could talk tomorrow in the safety of the sunlight. Eventually he walked across the street before fading out into the night. Blending in with the shadows.

You turned around to meet your would-be saviors.

Four men. All slightly older than you and so handsome you felt foolish for gawking at them as if this were your first time seeing a man. Hell, maybe it was. At least specimens like this. All of them tall and broad. Towering over you.

No wonder Cardan got the fuck out of there. Tabs was right. He was a coward.

"You alright?" The one who first spoke up asked. You could place his voice. Now just needed to place the other three. He had a hearty mustache and mutton chops. A look on any one else would make you immediately get the ick. But for a moment you wondered if that mustache would tickle... "Do you need us to call anyone?"

You felt your cheeks flush with heat.

"I just want to go home." You said. "Thank you for stepping in. I don't know what would have-" You stopped. Too afraid to think about the possibilities. There was a time you would never believe that Cardan had the ability to hurt you.

There was also a time you believed he would never cheat. You weren't really sure what to believe anymore. "Anyway," you continued. "Thank you again." You turned on your heel before continuing your stride.

You had only made it several feet before you were stopped again. "Which way? One of us can walk you home." You weren't entirely sure. But with a dead cellphone and a unhinged ex probably lurking in the shadows, there was little time to weigh the pros and cons before giving them a general direction of where you lived.

Which just so happened to be the direction in which two of the four lived. The Scot and one of the two who had yet to speak. The first one, who had still yet to introduce himself instructed the two of them to drop you off and let him know you had made it home alright.

You had hoped that the rest of your night would be met with silence, but the Scot couldn't seem to help himself. "I'm Johnny." He introduced. "And the spooky, silent type is Simon." He gave a playful wink. You gave him your name, not wanting to be rude.

"Not my place to ask," he began. "But what was the deal with that fucker? Ex-boyfriend?"

"Johnny." Simon's tone held warning. You appreciated the defense, but frankly didn't care. These were strangers. Who cared what they thought.

"Ex-fiancée," you clarified. "One who decided to fuck another girl in my bed. Not even our bed. My bed."

"Jesus fucking Christ," the Scot swore. "I was right. He was a fucking bawbag." For whatever reason, that made you laugh. For the first time in two weeks you fucking laughed. And it felt like you were breathing again.

Simon was quiet, not contributing to the conversation and just letting Johnny babble. Talking your ear off in a short trek as if it were an olympic sport.

You were so distracted with his voice you hadn't realized how far you had made it until the sound of your keys clattering onto your kitchen counter brought you back.

Back to a situation you didn't know how the fuck you landed in.

Two men (who you don't know) are in your apartment. Your friends don't know where you are. You are a little bit too inebriated to plan and exit strategy. Doesn't exactly help your confidence in fighting them off since they are built like fucking brick houses.

"He won't come sniffin' around here botherin' ya, will he?" Simon asks, speaking for only the second time since he had threatened Cardan. You shake your head.

"No," you said. "I have him blocked on everything. So I think when he saw me tonight it was just kind of an opportunity, I suppose?" You offer. Cardan had showed up to your place one time with a random assortment of flowers and a useless apology you had to hear through the door as you covered your mouth. Concealing your cries. Too afraid to let him know you were there.

Too afraid that some part of you would be weak enough to take him back.

"We'll leave ye' be." Johnny said, nodding his head toward the door. "But if he comes bein' a shite to ye again, you can give us a call."

"Phones dead." You explain, holding up your phone as if you needed to prove yourself. Johnny offered the brilliant, yet simple solution of giving him your number. He sent off a text, knowing it would be there when you turned back on and promising to check in later.

They both gave subtle nods of goodbye before turning away.

And just like that, they left. The door clicking softly shut behind them. You stood, frozen for several beats before walking over and locking the door.

You plugged your phone into the charging cable, waiting until it lit back to life before shooting off a text in your group chat with Tab and Mere.

Sorry I took off. Ran into Cardan and fucking made a dash for it. Sorry if I worried you. I'm at home. I'm okay. Grab lunch tomorrow and we can talk about it? My treat?

You signed off the text with a heart emoji and turned your phone on do not disturb. Too afraid of your friends going all Mama Bear on you for running away while drunk. Even if your reasons were valid.

You had texted Johnny again. Not because Cardan dared to bother you again, but to thank him. Acknowledging that not many men would have done for you what he and his friend did. Johnny assured you it wasn't anything.

Before you knew it, the two of you were hanging out with Simon always tagging along. It took you a while to realize he did actually like you, but his stoic nature was just who he was. You had met Kyle and John, both as charming and respectful as Johnny and Simon.

John had been the first two mention wanting to take you on a date. It didn't go well with the other three. They all had the same intention and a rock, paper, scissors tournament seemed to juvenile to figure out who got the privilege in courting you. Eventually, they had decided to ask you.

Putting you on the spot to answer the question that had begun to tear them apart: which one of them will it be?

Johnny made you laugh. He was the first person you thought about calling when your day was a bit grey. He saw the positive in everything and was the one who made you feel like even the bad days weren't so terrible.

Then there was Simon. The one who you felt like was your safe place in body and mind. You would babble all day talking to him, thankful when he would let you rant. Your mind was able to go on auto-pilot in terms of safety because you knew Simon would handle it. He also gave the best hugs.

John was the one who instilled the confidence in you that you needed. Your bookstore, your writing, whatever aspirations you had, no matter how wild, John would support it. Nothing was too big. After you all started dating, he was the first person you ever let read your book. He gave you praise as well as critique, pointing out multiple plot holes and helping you craft it better. And never once taking credit for it, even when it was due.

Kyle was the most thoughtful one. He was the one who knew you liked trying knew things so he made an effort to always make date nights interesting. A new restaurant, a new activity or experience. He was the biggest giver of the group.

So when they did ask you, you answered honestly.

"I can't choose." They insisted that you didn't need to spare their feelings, but you stood firm in your decision. "No. I can't choose. I'm interested in all of you." When they pressed on why the fuck you didn't say anything earlier, you told them to avoid this kind of situation. Where you had to choose. You were fine continuing on as just friends if that meant you got to keep all of them.

Mere and Tabs were great friends, but they are the ones who helped pull you out of the slump. The ones who made you feel lovable. The ones who made you feel like a woman again.

"Helloooooo." Mere's hand waved in your face while another held something she had found in your closet. "So are you going to change or not?" Your eyes darted to the skimpy glittery black dress. The same one for your first date with them. Your stomach twisted as you took the sparkly dark fabric in your hand.

You nodded as if trying to shake the memory out of your mind. "I'll change and we can go." Better just to get it over with.

The place that Mere had dragged you to was a club that played music that you would only listen to while encapsulated in the aroma of cheap liquor and sweat. Your outfit form-fitting. The material too stiff to be comfortable, but it was cute. The hem of your dress coming to rest just below your ass cheeks. Hugging your body in a way that made you feel self conscious the moment you stepped out of your building.

Mere had run into some work colleagues. Names you couldn't and wouldn't remember. There had been a high profile divorce going on. Very messy. She had been so encapsulated by the gossip that she hadn't notice you and Tabitha had slipped off toward the bar.

Tabitha insisted on shots and you needed something to get your mind off the less than exciting night. Your expectations weren't high, but fuck. You would have been much more comfortable wearing the jeans. You felt like a piece of fucking meat. It would have been so bad if someone were gonna buy you a dr-

"This seat taken?" It was a cliche introduction attached to a slightly better than average face. Decent enough where it didn't hurt to look at him, but not attractive enough to be a seat.

"By all means," you said turning back to Tabitha who looked at the guy now sitting to your left and raising her eyebrows. Fucking hell. Not her too.

"It's pretty packed tonight." He commented, attempted to make small talk. You hated small talk. At least unless it came to Johnny who would get into discussion on politics, religion and why on the side was the best way to fuck because it gave him 'a perfect view of the front and back of ye.'

"You come here often?" You asked, not wanting to be a total bitch, but having absolutely zero desire to be entertaining him.

"When I can." He said. "I prefer the Artifact a couple of blocks down. Not many people heard of it. A bit of a hole-in-the-wall place." Oh cool. A fucking hipster who liked to act superior at knowing a place that is underground. You could feel any possibility of getting your pussy wet, dry at the thought of this man actually wanting to come onto you.

Jesus, when did you become so harsh.

I blame Simon.

"Oh," you say, no longer interested in entertaining the conversation. "Sounds lovely. My friend and I just came out for a bit of girl-" you turn to look at Tabitha who had somehow miraculously disappeared in the 45 fucking seconds that your back was turned....

Little bitch.

"Bathroom, I suppose." He laughed. It was the sincerity in his voice that irked you. God, why was he pissing you off just trying to start a conversation?

"I suppose." You gave a soft smile back, turning once the bartender had come over to grab your order. Which the stranger next to you had insisted buying. Nothing quite as arousing as obligated conversation.

"There's no need for that-"

"Percival." He introduced. "But my friends call me Percy." Your immediate thought was who the fuck names there kid Percival. The second was to offer him a fake name. Real enough to be believable, but fake enough where if he tried to search you up on any social media, you could just deny having any.

"I hate to be brash," he started. Then don't. "But I can't imagine a girl like you being single."

"Not really looking for anything romantic at the moment." You say, the first time you've been truthful this entire conversation. Percival leaned in closer, before asking in a low voice that he was doubt trying to convey as sexy, "Are you sure?"

And there it was. The final ick that nailed the coffin shut.

You offered in a soft smile before swallowing hard. "Percival,"

"My friends call me-"

"I'm going to be frank." Your voice is soft, as if explaining to a small child why we don't always get the things we want. "I just got of a very long and deep and meaningful relationship and the idea of being near another man in any intimate or emotional capacity wants me to cause very serious bodily harm to said man."

His expression fell.

"I appreciate your confidence in coming over here and making small talk, but if you're wanting to fuck me or even attempt to be friends, I must inform you that is no only not in the cards, but not in your best interest." You turned, downing the rest of your cocktail.

"Time for a trip to the bathroom myself, I suppose." You stood from your seat, having to readjust your dress.. "Have a good night."

You were washing your hands when a red-faced Mere walked into the bathroom. Tabitha on her heels with a concerned expression.

"What did you do?" Mere asked.

"What are you talking about?" You asked. You had half a mind to ask them why the fuck they pulled a disappearing act after insisting you go out.

"You told Percy you would castrate him?" You looked as if you had been slapped. The pieces falling into place to reveal a totally fucked up puzzle.

"You fucking tried to set me up." You seethed, a finger pointing accusingly.

"Well, fuck, what did you expect me to do?" She asked. "You were sulking."

"Listen to me!" You cried. "I want you to listen to me. I was with them for two years. It hasn't even been two weeks and you're going behind my fucking back and trying to set me up with fucking Percival? How the fuck do you even know him? Do you even know him?" She ignored your last question. How convenient.

"I thought it would be good to get it out of your system." She tried to defend, her pissyness now matching yours. "You always do this. I was just trying to help."

"What do you mean 'I always do this'?" Your eyes turned into slits.

"Why don't we just calm down and-" Tabitha tried to stop the escalation. Mere, very obviously, ignored that cue.

"You get so hung up on a guy, or in this case guys, it takes you fucking weeks to recover." You stare at her. Unsure if she was really comprehending the bullshit that had come out of her mouth.

"I'm certain you aren't trying to make me feel bad for grieving a relationship that I was in for over three years to a man I was engaged to. To find him fucking in my apartment, in my bed the same week I was going to get my wedding dress."

"It's not just Cardan," she went on. "Issac in our second year of school?" You gave a humorless chuckle.

"Oh yes," you said condescendingly, "the boy I had dated from 14-years old- until I was 19. The boy I gave my virginity two months before he told me he was not only not interested in me, but women in general." As if that somehow lessened the blow. "Absolutely shouldn't have bothered me a bit."

"You only went out for classes and food for two months!" She said as if you had hit a pedestrian with your car. As if you were a fool for being so distracted by a breakup you couldn't be bothered to carry on with life as normal.

"I'm sorry that I actually take the time to grieve my relationships." You said. "I forgot that it may be hard for either of you to comprehend what a relationship is like considering the only relationship either of you have is with your work or with each of us."

"Hey!" Tabitha said. "I understand your pissed, but there isn't need to attack us like this."

"Attack you?" You asked. "Attack you? This isn't me attacking you. This is me responding to an uncomfortable situation that you put me in. I told you I didn't want to even think about me. I didn't want to fuck someone else and you go and do this?"

"He seems like a decent guy." You roll your eyes.

"Probably why he's not your type, right?" Mere crossed her arms over chest. Eyebrow arched as if she were hoping the words enticed you to realize that you had a history of going after the wrong guys.

Unfortunately, it did not.

You sucked on your teeth, carefully choosing your words before World War III broke out in a nearly vacant bathroom in South London. You took a deep breath. Calming yourself as best as you could.

Before saying fuck it and letting it loose.

"Just because your idea of coping is getting drunk and fucking someone you plan on never speaking to again, quite literally discarding them like trash, doesn't mean the rest of us cope the same way." You hoped it hurt. You hope it stung the same way she had tried to sting you.

You had hoped that your word would be the final blow before both sides called a treaty.

"You mean like they did you?"

And just like that, you heart stuttered. A rapid dum dum dum in your chest as it had been tripped up by her words. The truth in them heavy. The shift in the air was almost immediate;.

"Sweetheart-" Tabitha had tried to reach out before you jerked away.

"Enjoy your night." You said, grabbing your purse where you had left it by the sink. "I'm going to go home and wallow in my self pity." You exited the bathroom, hearing your named called again before shifting it into gear and getting the fuck out of there.

Weaving through the sea of bodies like water flowing around rocks.

Who the fuck cares if you want to cry? To grieve? To be angry? To get closure? To move on? Who cares if you don't want to be the girl who gets her heart shattered and not fuck somone else? Who wants to feel the comfort of a familiar body, a touch that feels safe one last time before you go back into a world where you will only be touched by a stranger?

It didn't matter that you were the one to breakup with them, even if the relationship was broken. It's foundation cracked.

What did matter is that the people who should have supported you and in the way you were dealing with your loss in your own way, didn't. And that's the part that they seem to forget. It is a loss. It's mourning someone who hasn't died. Someone who is still living, yet still no longer there.

"Off already?" Percy cut in the way, blocking your escape. You weren't in the mood.

"Listen-" you started before he cut you off.

"Not anything romantic, I know," he raised his hands as if in defense, "but maybe like another drink or a dance?"

You closed your eyes, wanting to hold off starting a scene and tearing him a new asshole. "Like I said, not. interested." How much clearer could you spell it out?

"Come on." He said, his hand coming to rest on your hip. The grip on it weak. You were by no means the type of woman that could take on a man like the ones you still held in a chamber of your heart. But you could most certainly handle your own against Percival. "I'm asking for a dance. After what Meredith told me, I figured you'd be down for at a little more than that."

"I don't follow." Your blood ran cold. Your heart praying that any assumptions that were running through your mind were wrong, they were wrong.

"She mentioned you having a group of like guys you fucked, but stopped fucking." He shrugged, offering a coy smile that you ached to wipe off with the back of your hand. "I don't judge. It's kind of hot honest. Did they run train or-" You felt it then. His hand had traveled from your hip to the curve of your ass.

And you froze. You froze like a coward. Too afraid to speak or scream. Too ashamed to push him away, cause a scene.

But you didn't need to do any of that.

In an instant, Percy's hand was off of you. It took you a moment to realize that a figure dressed in black stood beside you. Your own personal grim reaper.

"Put him go!" You pleaded, breaking out of your trance. You took hold of his arm putting all of your body weight on his arm, trying to break his hold. He didn't falter.

You could handle you own against Percy.

But Simon could fucking kill him without breaking a sweat.

You looked at Simon's face. His eyes were darkened. The soft brown you had once loved staring into were now almost black. You could even make out the dark circles, even in the unsettling flickering of strobe lights in the club.

"You touch her again and I'll slit your fucking throat. Understood?" Pure venom fell from Simon's lips, but you knew he wasn't lying. Simon was the type of man who didn't say something he didn't mean.

You knew that all too well.

Percy choked out an ineligible, gurgled response as Simon's hand held firm on his throat. "He understands, goddammit, no let him down!" You ordered hitting at him as if it would stop him. "Simon, please!"

It was only when you said his name, did Simon loosen his grip. Letting Percy drop to a heap on the floor before he started a having a coughing fit, trying to suck in as much air as he could.

Simon looked down at you and the exit before scooping you up and hauling you over his shoulder like a sack of flower.

You wanted to die. You wanted to crawl in a hole and die and never show your face again.

"Get in the car." He at least had the decency to open the door for you. Simon wasn't a flashy man, by any means, but he was still a man. A men did love their cars.

He stood, waiting for you but you didn't move. You glared up at him. He had carried you out of there in the most humiliating way possible. You had to fight against the hemline of your dress or else everyone would have gotten an eyeful.

Hand still on the door, he leaned down, getting closer and closer to your height. "You get your ass in this car right now," his breath warm against your ear. "Or I'll have you over my fuckin' knee." His tone was sharp. It wasn't seduction in form of a threat. It wasn't even a threat.

It was a promise.

"We're over." You reminded.

"Do you think that'll fuckin' stop me from spankin' some sense into your bratty ass?"

"It doesn't give you the right to fucking do that to people, Simon!" You huffed. "You could have killed in."

"Could have," he agreed. "But didn't. You're welcome." he nodded toward the car. "Now, in you go or I'll do it here. You already know I don't mind an audience."

The heated seats were a bit to warm for your liking against your bare ass. The tension in the air was uncomfortable. Your hands ached to touch the radio. Anything to stop the silence between the two of you.

"I got home fine the other night by the way." You said, looking out the window, hoping to make him feel like shit for not checking in like he should have.

"I know you did."

"What do you mean you know I did?" You asked, turning to look at him. He shrugged as if it wasn't anything out of the ordinary, not stopping.

"Just did." Was his only answer.

"Are you fucking stalking me, Riley?" That made him laugh. You would have felt better if there was at least a sense of humor in it, but, instead, only disbelief.

"Oh, Riley now, is it?" He asked.

"You're not my body guard, Simon." You snapped.

"Not trying to be," he said. "I was never trying to be." You caught it. A very small slip, but it was something... something you couldn't place.

"Then why?" You ask, your tone softening. "For someone who makes it very apparent to be done with me, you sure do show up at convenient times. Hard not to think your keeping tabs on me."

He didn't say anything. No explanation or excuse. Not evena smart ass comeback or remark.

His hands reached forward and turned on the radio, turning the volume just loud enough that if you were to try and continue the conversation, your words would be drowned out.

He pulled up in front of your building, yet you made no move to get out. You turned off the radio, soaking in the silence once more. You wanted to know why? Why was he appearing out of nowhere like a fucking ghost? Why was he helping you?

He sighed before putting the car in park and stepping out. Coming around to your side he opened the door. "Get inside. Go to bed." There he was again. Fucking bossing you around as if he still had a say.

You wanted to cuss him out. To spew hateful words just as he did you.

But you didn't.

You were tired.

So fucking tired. And the idea of going to bed did sound pretty good in that moment. You made it to the door of your building before he spoke again. "And if you need to out at this time at night call a goddamn cab."

"Why?" You asked, turning around. "Getting tired of having to follow me around on foot, Si?"

There was a pregnant pause. Neither of you speaking. His body shifted forward, as if contemplating getting closer to you. As if the pull you once had was still there.

With his eyes trained on you, you felt a chill run down your spine. Twice you had seen that look on Simon's face before. The look that he had given the figures concealed in the shadows last night. The same look he had given Percy.

Only this time, it was directed at you.

One that personified the saying, 'if looks could kill.'

"Because," he growled out, "the next time I find someone else touching you that way, I'll fucking kill them."

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redeyerhaenyra · 2 days

Text

Divine Hammer

Summary: You bring up something new to Simon. He's more enthusiastic than you expected.

Warnings: What else but smut, HEAVY UK slang usage (me and si come from the same area of England our slang is v similar) Simon slaps reader once, fem reader, oral(f), fingering in BOTH holes, pussy juice as lube, anal duh, simons fat cock, sprinkling of a size kink, mean Simon, kitchen sex mmm, no beta we die like soap (sorry), lmk if I missed anything!

Notes: Listen the taboo of anal just gets me going alright , also this has been in my drafts since JAN 9TH help

Wc: 2.5k

Simon's stare was unnerving. Well, it was always unnerving, to a degree. But he found ways to utilise it. Deadpan humour, emphasising points of conversation, scaring away would-be hookups from you in the pub. But here, it was unnerving in a whole other way.

It felt… intrusive.

Simon stared at you like he could see through your clothes, your body, into your mind to expose your deepest darkest fantasies. You squirmed under his penetrating gaze, tugging at the hem of your jumper.

After a little while of silence, you shook your head, scoffing at yourself;

“-No, nevermind um.. I'm.. s-sorry that was weird-” “Didn’ say tha’ ”

You gulped, gaze nervously fixed to the floor. Simon was still. Staring. At you. Never before had you felt so exposed, too embarrassed and, if you were honest, a little scared to look at your boyfriend face-on.

“Was just wonderin’ since when my bird was such a slag.”

His baritone words rolled down your spine, sending sparks of a deep, taboo satisfaction through you. You whimpered, and hid your face in your hands.

“Don’ act like a prude love, we both heard what you wanted just now.” “I shouldn't have said anythinnnggg-”

Conceptually, anal had… a certain taboo charm to it. From your perspective at least. Sure, it wasn't technically the “right” hole… it wouldn't feel the same, but the idea had always fascinated you.. intruded your shadowed thoughts at night with your fingers rubbing your clit and edging nervously to an opening further on than your cunt.

So, gently, you'd broached the topic one time you were both in the kitchen together- thinking, in hindsight foolishly, that it'd be something he'd instantly dismiss, or at least… talk about later. In the bedroom. Not in the middle of the kitchen… but now here you stood, in the hole you'd dug for yourself;

“On the contrary, I'm relieved you've finally admitted it to yourself.” His footsteps were heavy against the floorboards as he approached you. Confused, you peeked out of the gaps between your fingers to look at him;

“W-what?” “Don't be fuckin’ coy w'me love.” Simon towered over you, cadging you next to the kitchen side.

“Always suspected there was some depraved shit up here, yeah?” He poked your temple with his index finger, “Turns out my intuitions were correct then?”

“T-thats not-” “Oh yes it is sweet’art.” Simon's eyes grew more intense by the second, even more than before- you struggled to even picture them in your mind for fear of his retribution.

“Ay- fuckin’ look at me when I'm talking to ya.”

He could have been a lot harsher with the small smack he delivered to your cheek, but that knowledge did nothing to dull the pain, and your eyes watered a little at the sensation. He grabbed your cheeks between his fingers, squishing them till you pouted and shaking your head lightly, as if to keep hold of your attention.

As if you could look anywhere else…

Forced to return his ferocious gaze, you crumbled, knees bucking like a fawn under you- Simon grabbed you and roughly hauled you back up, manhandling you to bend over the kitchen counter. You allowed him to, biting your lip in an attempt to muffle your unintentional sounds of appreciation.

It earned you a harsh smack to your rear, and Simon's big paw of a hand tugging your hair. He leaned over you, “ ‘M not ‘avin any of tha’ yeah? You're not gonna be hidin’ how much of a slut you are from me anymore sweet'art.”

The juxtaposition of his words and the way he sweetly kissed your temple after he said them was almost comical. The grip on your hair disappeared, replaced with firm and consistent pulling at your clothes until you shuffled out of them- Simon wasted no time running his warm hands up and down your body, rumbling out various admirations of your physical form.

He slunk down your body, nipping and pressing hot, open mouthed kisses down your back, and then to each of your cheeks, all the way down to your pussy. Earlier on, when you'd ridden yourself of your panties, Simon had laughed at how wet they were. “Already?” He'd asked, “Y'that turned on already? Whore. Like a bitch in heat f'me, ey?”

He had no further comments to mock you with, not now at least. He was busy approving of the view of your wet cunt in front of him- out of the corner of your eye you spied him nodding to himself as if he were appraising fine art.

You huffed, a little impatient, petulant you wiggled your bum at him- only all you got from him was another spank.

“Be patient.” He said curtly.

You whined, but otherwise did as you were told, meekly resigned to your fate as Simon's personal eye candy.

“Why ya’ into it then?” You made a noise of confusion, Simon huffed.

“This.”

One of hands had moved to idly grope and squish your bottom while he'd been down there, and now his thumb creeped ever so slowly over to press on your rim. You keened- suddenly understanding what he meant.

“Well?” His thumb pressed in deeper, you gasped- “I-i don't know!” “Hmmm…”

You could tell from his tone he didn't quite believe you. He kissed your cheek again.

“I'm sure I'll find out.”

With that said, his thumb remained almost gently rubbing at your hole, his free hand moving to pull his balaclava up over his nose- wasting no time in burying himself in your cunt. He sighed contentedly at the taste, smell, feel of you, lazily lapping at your cunny with his broad tongue. His thumb still rubbing you in slow circles, almost.. in a comforting manner.

There was no one more intimidating than Simon- at least out of all the people you've ever met, and yet here he was, eating your pussy like it was a home cooked, three-course meal. You looked over your shoulder, and bit your lip; The visual of big bad Simon Riley on his knees for you, make you shiver and clench.

Simon seemed to be secretly a telepath however, as the way he suddenly roughly pinched your clit between his index finger and thumb- tugging on it cruelly, came off as a punishment. You whined loudly, panting into the counter, drooling a little. Vaguely, you could hear Simon humming thoughtfully to himself. He released his hold on your poor clit, though quickly replaced it by rubbing small, soothing circles on it instead.

It quite quickly becomes a lot more intense, Simon grunting in approval as he plunges his thick tongue into your cunt. Your breathing is staggered, coming out in short, little huffs- you reach behind you to tug at Simon's head, shoving him closer. Again, he groans in appreciation, eagerly nuzzling between your thighs closer, the rhythm of his tongue and fingers rubbing at your clit increased a hundredfold;

Like lighting, your orgasm crashed through you, the noises that left your pussy- wet, squelching, the drip of your juices against the floor, should surely have had you feeling at least some shame, but no. You were too twitchy, too fucked stupid on Simon's tongue to care.

With much reluctantance, Simon hauled himself off of your puffy pussy. He'd gladly stay nestled between your kegs for the rest of him life, at least from further away, he could admire his work.

At this point, you thought perhaps he'd finally get to the meat of what you'd suggested.. Simon wasn't finished yet though- two of his deliciously thick fingers were swiftly shoved into your sopping pussy.

You cried out at the sudden penetration, shivering and trembling.

“What? ..silly cow.” Simon told you gruffly, somewhat annoyed that you'd dare disturb his probing at your cunt with your exclamation of surprise. You whined at his degradation, but were still coherent enough to recognise the underlying affection in his tone. Huffing, you leaned forward to lay your torso fully on the cold, sideboard. The cool temperature of the marble was sharp and sudden, but soon soft and gentle to your hot body, palliative to your hard, puffed up nipples.

He lazily pumped his fingers inside you for a few moments, before curling his fingers forward, dragging against that spongey spot deep within you, and eased his fingers out of you.

You were left huffing and panting like an animal into the counter- Simon had cupped his two fingers- the ones that was just inside of you- just under your clit.. then abruptly he slid them upwards, slowly, pressing down hard.

You squeaked, struggling not to quiver too hard. Simon's fingers kept creeping up and up and up, gliding firmly over your cunny, finally halting at your rim. The hot, wet sensation of Simon rubbing your own slick into your hole as lube had you trembling.

“How's tha?” You heard Simon mumble from behind you, his accent had gotten a little thicker. It always got thicker when he was “in the zone”.

“Oh.. uh..” Seemingly irked by your lack of response, your boyfriend slapped your clit harshly with the back of his hand.

“G-good!! It's good! Good!!” You choked, and whined again when you heard Simon chuckle lowly at you. He tapped his fingers twice on your hole- you nodded shyly at him;

Simon hummed, cautiously easing one of his broad fingers covered in your slick into your ass. The noise of utter debauched pleasure you let escape your throat was nothing compared to Simon's groan-

“Oh fuck that's tight..”

God it was, you felt how hard your greedy hole swallowed up his thick finger. You huffed and puffed- vainly attempting to breath consitently, but your body was too sensitive, muscles pulled too rigid inside you to keep your thoughts on one thing alone.

Simon was your rock, somewhere in the thousands of feelings inside you, was a certainty that he was holding back. Taking it slow, just for you.

You felt the hazey cloud of sex overwhelm you, rendering you more or less unable to speak, only babble incoherently into the counter, your pretty eyes filled with tears as Simon took his sweet, sweet time opening you up.

By comparison to how rough the pads of his digits were, they were remarkably soft with you, even as Simon squeezed one more of his fingers in you. You coughed and hiccups at the fullness of it.

“Tha's it.. good girl.. cmon.. open up luv.. there we go..”

You head him whisper, and you moaned impatiently. You wanted to politely express your readiness for his dick, but all the you were able to whine out was “C-cock-!”

Simon laughed, which was always a nice, comforting rumble. “I know sweet'art, gotta get you a little looser f'me first yeah?”

Even as you keened and begged, Simon would not budge. Occasionally, if he was feeling particularly mean in that moment, he'd flick your poor clit harshly, you'd squeal and twitch. This continued for a while, and by the time he deemed you “ready” you might have passed out, the electric fizzles of pleasure that sizzled between your legs kept you awake.

Simon could tell you were tired, he was gentle with the way he slipped his hand under you tummy to push your bum in the air, and tender with how he cradled your hip. Your clit was kindly soothed with slow, small circles rubbed in by his middle finger.

You sobbed into the side- “cock…” you babbled, sniffing and feeling sorry for yourself. You felt a kiss to the base of your neck;

“Mmmm.. I know baby, I know, m' so mean aren't I?”

Vaguely, you heard yourself murmuring in agreement. The metallic sound of Simon's belt loosening and then his zipper coming down had warm excitement flutter over your body.

You felt the heat of his dick before it even touched you, whimpering when it finally did. Simon rubbed his thick cock up and down the apex of your thighs, right up to hole and then back down to your clit. When you would whine at him, he'd hum right back.

God, he was so much bigger than you. He leant over you and covered your entire body with his bulk. You felt him throb at your rim. A kiss was levied at your neck- “Y’ready?” He asked, voice low, and you babbled back something that sounded like impatience. Simon chuckled and kissed your neck again, bracing one strong arm against the counter next to you.

All of a sudden he was inside you, not all the way but he was inside you and that's all you could think about. You gasped, inadvertently holding your breath and then once more remembering to breathe. Simon had stayed silent throughout this.. you reached backwards for him with one hand;

“Si?” “Y-yeah, yeah m’here, g’ve us a minute love-”

His voice came out ragged and shaky, and from the sounds of it he was doing the same forgetting-to-breath thing you were.

You both needed occasionally little breaks from him sliding his cock inside you this time, either of you would cum too quickly. But soon, all of him was pressed snugly inside you. You drooled on the counter and Simon's head had dropped to rest on your back, taking slow, steady breaths, grounding himself.

The both of you stayed like this for a while. It was almost peaceful. Soft. Till Simon decided he was fine to move and dragged his dick alllllllll the way back out and then in again in one thrust. It left you choked for breath, Simon too, he was more vocal this time than any other time you'd fucked.

Neither of you lasted long, specially not after your boyfriend had clasped his big paw of a hand under your leg, and lifted it up onto the counter next to you, an entirely new and more intimate angle. You were cumming before you even realised Simon had crept his hand down to pinch your clit. He was so mean about it too- that same hand then came up to shove to of his fingers into your mouth, creating a spit-slicked mess. And when he came it was an event:

He threw his head back and moaned more desperately than you'd ever heard from him before. The rhythmic squelch that narrated your encounter kept going even after he'd cum, if anything it was louder now. His and your cum dripping down out of you and puddling on the floor beneath you. Still, meekly, Simon kept thrusting into you, as if the orgasm was too good to end. Though finally it did, Simon's weight all but collapsing ontop of you.

You stayed like that for a while, still connected. Basking in your respective afterglows. Simon kissed your neck again and you croaked out a satisfied noise;

“Fun..” The man behind you laughed, “Yeah fun was it? Just fun eh? Just fun~?” Cruelly he reached under you to tickle your sides- you squealed; “More than f-fun!!” and that seemed to sate him, releasing you.

“Yeah, s’what I thought…..” He drummed his fingers on the counter..

“Bath?” “bath….”

#simon riley smut #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley #ghost mw2 #ghost smut #ghost cod #codmw2 smut #cod mw2

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spicysourchimken · 22 hours

Text

Interesting reunions

Tim and Danny are twins, Danny was given up for adoption by the Drakes when he was a baby and Tim was never told he has a brother.

After a reveal gone bad, Danny, Jazz, Sam and Tucker became thieves after closing the portal. They mainly target supernatural or cursed items. Their target, a necklace, is being held in a museum with their in being a private event to show off the piece before it's sent back to its owner.

The heist would've gone well if Tim hadn't also been in attendance.

------

'Lmao and here I thought you didn't want to be here'

It was a text from Dick.

Not exactly the strangest thing to happen when Tim was forced to attend an event.

He'd been benched after a mission resulted in a minor concussion. He'd personally been planning on going over his paperwork for Wayne Enterprises, but apparently that wasn't 'rest', instead he was sent off to be bored out of his mind at some art function. He didn't have time to prepare notes or even do any real research. But he still had Dick who had apparently been dragged along as his babysitter (And was fortunately interested in the items on display)

They'd been texting throughout the night. Dick fed him enough information to be mildly interested in topics of conversation, and when that failed the strange history of the main display. An old necklace that supposedly was connected to a string of deaths and all around misfortune.

So no, the text wasn't strange, but what was, was the photo attached. It was a picture of a man, grinning and chatting amicably with a woman whom he could barely make out as the collection's curator. His hair was longer than Tim's, tied neatly back to be clear of his glasses and to give clear view of the man's face.

Tim's face.

There was a clone at the event.

'can u get me another pic?'

Tim was now significantly more interested. Tim could identify the room they were in, housing the main display and it was about two rooms over from where he was currently hiding out. He could get there easily enough.

Dick sent him a thumbs up before replying with another, distinctly more uncomfortable photo of the man. He smiled awkwardly and Tim could finally get a better look at his face. Tim's brows scrunched together. A lichtenburg scar stretched up from beneath his collar and trailed along his jaw and in the light the man's eyes almost looked green.

He ran the photo through his facial recognition software, getting at least a few pings on himself before finally landing on Jonas Spencer, private security currently assigned to shadow one Morgan Deveraux. His history was solid, highschool records, even a spotty criminal history (points where he'd almost been arrested for bar fights) before he'd joined up with his firm.

So. not a clone. Probably.

Tim would still need to check it out. He pushed past a dark haired woman and entered the main show room. Dick, luckily had kept him in conversation but Jonas looked flighty, his eyes always drifting back to his charge.

Then he caught sight of Tim.

He froze. Staring at Tim for a moment before he tapped his ear- and what Tim assumed to be a comm. He made a move for Morgan, leaving Dick in the dust.

The lights flickered. Jonas reached for Megan, his hand wrapping around hers. Tim could've sworn his eyes darted upwards. Then there was a complete blackout. There was a clatter as a vent grate fell to the floor, shouts arose from the attendees.

Then the lights flickered back to life.

Jonas and Morgan had vanished, and so did the necklace as well as three other paintings.

Good news, its not a clone. Bad news, he might have a twin brother who is in a gang of thieves.

Daniel Fenton, or as his ID currently stated 'Jonas Spencer', wouldn't exactly call himself a thief- personally he was more of a collector. Or a curator, whatever the hell you might call a guy who grabs haunted and or cursed objects and dumps them in an alternate dimension.

And it wasn't exactly like he was normally the one stealing things either! That was mostly Sam, he'd done for a bit when they'd first started up (pushing his hands through the glass and taking a necklace with him, or making a painting completely invisible as he whisked it away) but then Sam started calling it 'cheating' and claimed 'his technique was lacking' and promptly took over his position.

(He didn't exactly mind, using his powers too often made his skin crawl. He may not have the GIW constantly hunting him, but he'd had enough run ins to make him sweat. He also didn't want to think about his parents.)

So maybe their entire deal wasn't completely altruistic. When you've been on the run since seventeen and had decided that you, your best friends and your older sister are going to become international thieves, sometimes you have to steal things so that you can have an income. And sometimes stealing is fun.

Unluckily their current job wasn't recreational. They'd heard word of a haunted necklace, there was a string of bad luck connected to it. Mirrors shattering, injuries popping up only days after interacting with the piece, lights falling out from the ceiling. There'd also been a case of near death.

Very clearly the latest display piece was cursed meaning they needed to grab it before it was shipped back into it private collection in France. That meant a time crunch, meaning they wouldn't be fully prepared. It was fine- they'd stolen the dagger of Amon Ra when they had half a day to plan, so three should've been fine.

He and Jazz manned the floor, Jazz kept to grifting while Danny worked as support if things went sideways on any front. Jazz, currently wealthy socialite 'Morgan Devereaux', draped an arm around a politician as he guided her through the collection. Jazz shot him a glance telling him to stay back, keep monitoring the main floor with the necklace.

That was fine. He could do that. He approached the curator and complimented the piece, letting her tell him about the struggles she had getting it overseas let alone her conversations with the owner. Ok, so definitely cursed.

Danny felt eyes on his back, and from the corner of his eye he saw someone take a photo. Tall, dark hair and a bright smile.

Sam pointed out that it was a Wayne.

At that point Danny made an attempt to leave, if he was going to get into a fight we wasn't going to do it there. He'd be too close to the necklace for Sam to get in and grab it without attention being drawn to her too. But Grayson cornered him impressively fast. He asked Danny for a photo, claiming that he looked just like his brother. Danny relented.

Then Tucker chimed in that someone had ran his face. Fuck. Dick kept him in conversation but Danny was eyeing their escape roots. Sam warned that another was coming through the left entrance and that she'd already lifted his phone. Danny turned, preparing himself for confrontation.

Then Danny saw him, his doppelganger.

Grayson hadn't been lying. That thought was terrifying.

Danny sent two taps into his earpiece and made his way towards Jazz. They couldn't risk staying any longer. Danny didn't know if they'd been made or not but he wasn't taking chances. He nodded to Sam who went for the jewels as Tucker cut the lights. Jazz and Danny took a painting each.

Sam went for the vents and Danny and Jazz disappeared through the front door.

#dpxdc #dc x dp #dp x dc #dcxdp

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velocesainz · 2 days

Note

Hi, can you do an angsty fic inspired by “I gotta go my own way” from HSM2. If can either be Charles or Lando or Charlando and they fuck up or something and reader leaves them? Maybe hurt/no comfort? It’s okay if you don’t want to

A/n: this was a very interesting request and it took me quite a while to really get the plot line. Hope you enjoy!

One heart broke six hands bloody

F1 masterlist | Main masterlist | Taglist

Summary: Charles and Lando are in a relationship with reader and they slowly stop paying attention to her and missing important events. The last straw is when they miss your birthday.

Warnings: sad, angstyy, hurt

Pairing: Charles x Lando x reader

Reader pov:

It had been nearly five months since they started acting distant to me.

I don’t know why.

We were so good all together

It was like we completed each other

But recently they’ve really started to distance themselves and ignore me.

Constantly say they have meetings and leave home when I know they don’t drive I’m in contact with their teammates

Were they both cheating on me?

I woke up in our shared bed with nobody by my side.

I went on about my day realising they both had left for some sort of meeting with their respective teams

They returned home late at night completely wasted

“Where were you two? I’ve been worried sick! I called you both so many times, why didn’t you guys pick up?” I questioned

“Oh shut up mom.” Was all Lando said before they both left to go to bed

The next day was one I would usually be excited for but maybe not this year

My birthday

I would usually celebrate it with my two boyfriends but they seem to not want to spend time with me at all

I walked into the kitchen to see them scrolling on Charles’s giggling and whispering to Lando about something. They would do that with me too but I guess not anymore.

“Hey guys, what’s for breakfast?” I asked them seeing they had made their breakfast already

“Oh..we didn’t make you any. We thought you would do it yourself” Charles said

I sighed and went upstairs to get ready, my appetite knocked out by his words

I got dressed and left the house watching them not care

I hung out around Monaco since I had no friends here, just Charles and Lando

It started raining and I was freezing on my way back to our apartment. As I walked in I found them on their game not bothering to focus on anything but that and each other

“Hey I’m back” I announced as best as I could in my feverish voice due to the intense shivering

“Yea yea whatever just make us dinner” Lando said

What is up with them?

“You can do that yourself. In fact you guys should have done it for me at least today of all days”

They looked at me and asked “What are you talking about?”

I give up on these two

“It was my birthday today and you guys didn’t even bother to wish me or spend time with me. You both have been so secretive and distant from and it feels like you have fallen out of love. I’m leaving. I’m not dealing with this shit any longer”

I walked up to my bedroom and started packing the essentials

Charles pov

How did we not realise we were hurting our dearest so much?

We were ignoring her as we were going to propose to her and knew Lando wouldn’t keep his mouth shut if he started talking

We were so stressed about getting the perfect rings that we completely neglected y/n

Me and Lando looked at each other and chased after her to the bedroom to see her packing her things

“Cheri please don’t leave us we apologise for our horrible behaviour” I begged

“We were working on something very important and in that stress we completely neglected we’re extremely sorry” Lando said

“I don’t care for your explanations. My state of mind has not been good thanks to you two and I refuse to worsen it. I’m leaving and that’s final” she said

All our hearts were breaking as she said this. We ruined a beautiful relationship because we cared about materialistic things over our actual love for each other.

Now there was nothing we could do anymore.

She packed her bags and left the apartment telling us not to follow her and we’d broken her heart enough I’m sure she wouldn’t want to listen to us anymore.

One heart broke and left six hands bloody.

A/n: I’m sorry I took super long to finish this request. Hope you enjoyed and make sure to leave feedback! Kissies ✨

Taglist

@grantaires-waistcoat

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dduane · 1 day

Note

Hello! Do you think your conception of magic in YW is influenced at all by computer code? Between High Wizardry and some of the website admin stuff you discuss here, I'm guessing you've coded at least a little.

I'm an actor-turned-librarian who's cobbled together a little bit of coding competency through goofing off. The other day I tried to explain how I conceptualize a coding project and, well, first you need to figure out something's name -- and make sure you're properly specific for the context, you may need a lot of detail in how you name it -- and then you can start figuring out how to persuade it to do what you want ....

So I guess it's sort of a chicken-and-egg question: have I conceptualized coding in the image of my favorite fictional magic systems, or have I been generally drawn to magic systems with a sort of code-y, process-y inspiration?

I wouldn't like to second-guess your in-brain structure. But I can talk about my historical processes a bit, as they may apply to this.

Let me step back slightly. Before* I was a writer, I was a nurse. Before I was a nurse, I was studying to be an astrophysicist. Both of these arts/sciences require a certain sense of the hard structure of the universe—of the ways it requires you to put bits of it together if you're going to get anything useful done. This general outlook has determined, to a certain extent, how I interact with the nuts and bolts of the online world.

More historically speaking: I'm one of an unusual stratum of computer users who were technologically orphaned by the (bankruptcy) failure of the Osborne computer company in the mid-1980s. Those of us who had these machines, and who were at all techie-oriented, quickly became WAY more so in an attempt to keep our Osbornes running after the company went under. We learned how to keep our babies going without any available support, and when we moved on to other machines, we quickly became expert in fixing them... having learned the bitter lesson that when your computer fails, most of the time you're the only one you're going to be able to rely on to keep it going.

We learned to do things for ourselves, from the bottom up: hardware to programming. That mindset has remained with me from then until now.

After my Osborne, I moved from an early Apple (lent by our old friend Michael Reaves) to various early DOS/TRS machines when I moved over to this side of the Atlantic. I wrote Star Trek: The Kobayashi Alternative on a TRS-80 Model 100, gods bless its gentle hardworking heart. (I can still see in my mind the pale, pine-panelled interior of the ancient creaky London hotel, just south of Notting Hill Gate Tube, where I did most of the Trek work while I was in town on other business. I'd hooked the computer's modem to the hotel's phone system with alligator clips.) While Peter and I were later sorting out where we'd live on this side of things, for a long time—before portable computers, except for the TRS—the big machines lived in the boot of the Volvo while we migrated from place to place. And always the alligator clips were there.

Finally we settled in Ireland, and not too long after us, so did the Internet. (But not before I had to go up to Dublin one time, with the alligator clips again FFS!, and show the adorably clueless national telephone company guys how to hook up/in. ...I never pass that building without thinking of it: once Telecom Eireann, then Eircom, then Eir. Now it's a Starbucks. No matter. I remember where to hook the alligator clips in.)

And then, with the internet, lo, there came the (net-oriented) coding. Our first household web site went online in 1995. I handcoded our site's HTML. (Because what's a girl to do: wait for the techbois to make such work accessible or affordable? Bwahahahaha.) I continued to do that until the early 2000s, at which point I moved our sites to Drupal and learned its obscure ways. These days—having decided that Updating Damn Drupal Core Every Week is not what my mom raised me for—I've migrated all our household sites to WordPress, and I like it. I still pay a lot of attention to them, but at least I don't have to custom-code every whole damn page. I'm happy enough to let Elementor do that, while inserting occasional custom CSS, because (a) I have other writing to do, and (b) Life Is Too Short.

(I also used to hand-build our household computers, because (a) money was short and (b) why not know exactly what all your hardware is? But more recently I've started letting Scan in the UK do that. It's another Life Is Too Short thing... and Scan does good work. Lovely tight builds, and good customer service when needed.)

So: yeah, I code. :) Is the Young Wizards universe’s spell structure influenced by that? Uh, yeah. Inevitable, I’d think. Habit is such a taskmaster.

Meanwhile, summing up: I'm fluent in HTML. I'm nearly as fluent in CSS. I have enough PHP to be dangerous (to myself as well as others). I have memories of C that I can dredge up when necessary. I generated most of the Rihannsu language in MS-BASIC, gods bless it. ...And beyond that (as we say around here), deponent saith not. :)

*Or “while”, as I started writing when I was six or seven.

#coding #writing #Young Wizards #Young Wizards meta

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thebestofoneshots · 2 days

Text

No Sweeter Innocence than Our Gentle Sin Pt.1 | Remus Lupin x Reader

Pairing: Priest!Remus x reader

Word Count: 8.6 k

Prompt: You did not want to go to church that day, but your spirits are uplifted when you meet Father Remus, and your mind starts creating a mischievous scheme, to both retaliate over those years of being forced to go and take something from them.

Alternatively, R is really mad at the church and decides to steal one of their priests for it (but also kind of falls for him).

Warnings: SMUT, Non-apt for Christians(?). Reader is a little cynical (or maybe cynical Af). Suggestive talks, touching oneself, fingering. Reader seduces a Priest (so whatever you might expect from that), hierophiIia, corruption!kink, praise!kink (if you squint). Consent is sexy!

Proofread by lovely @aremuslupinsimp

♡ NSFW: Smut under the cut

ACT I: Remember to keep holy the LORD’s Day

You really didn’t want to go to church. You had one hell of a week and you were incredibly tired so when you got the phone call with your grandma inviting you to go, you were about ready to say no.

But your grandma has always been extremely catholic, and while you weren’t anymore, you hadn’t seen her in a while, and you missed her. Her being in town for your short vacation was a good enough reason to visit her more often (she was staying with your parents) and if you’d have to live through a whole hour of some boring priest talking about all the things that are wrong with society nowadays, then you would. Even if you didn’t want to.

That didn’t stop you from being cranky over the fact that you’d have to wake up extra early to take the 40-minute ride to the church she claimed “was the best one in the city,” according to her priest back at home (of course she couldn’t just ask you to the nearest fucking church).

Breathe, you told yourself. This is for your grandma, you repeated as you sat on the narrow seat of public transport, next to the gym bro that smelled like he could use a shower and whose massive arms would bump into you whenever the bus went through a pothole.

When you finally reached your spot, you had to wake him up so he would move his massive legs to the side and you could fucking pass through, walking down the bus in the sea of people that for some reason had taken the same one. Once outside you took a deep breath and tried to relax again. You didn’t want to look as pissed as you felt when you finally saw your grandma. At least it was a fucking cloudy day and you wouldn’t have to deal with the sun as you walked the 4 blocks left you had until you arrived at the church.

Who the fuck would invent a church so goddamn far from everything important? You wondered as you approached.

Oh, you thought once you saw it. Someone who wanted a lot of space then.

The church was massive. And while you might have been prone to exaggerate when you were pissed, you were far from exaggerating now. It was almost a small castle, maybe the largest church in the city, certainly the largest one you had seen in your life (not that you had seen a great many but certainly a few).

On the outside, there were very many intricate details carved, a few gargoyles at the top in a very Notre Dame-esque sort of way. Except while Notre Dame ended in a very square and neat way, the towers of this one extended far above the roof and ended in a pointy, almost menacing sort of way. You had been so absorbed by the intricate details of the tower, that you didn’t realise you were walking straight into someone.

“Uhh sorry,” you said as you stumbled back, pulling your gaze from the structure and towards the person right in front of you. You were absorbed by him the second your eyes met his: golden brown, almost shining with the way the sun was hitting them. You weren’t sure you had ever seen a more perfect person in your life, they were exactly your–

“I see you’ve met Father Remus!” Your grandma said as she grabbed onto your arm and pulled you back from him a couple more steps.

Father? He’s married? You wondered until you noticed his clothes, all-black suit, white necktie, she meant Father as in Priest?!?

The man –Remus– smiled, gentle, sweet and caring. “Nice to meet you…” there was silence. It took you a second to realise the man was expecting your name, and you gave it to him, fast and still slightly disoriented.

“Come on, angel,” your nan said as she pulled you towards the entrance. “We can talk after the mass.”

“Nice to meet you, Remus,” you said, turning up your most charming smile as you waved goodbye to the man. His eyes seemed to trail on your hand, but your grandma pulled you again, and you were forced to turn around.

“It’s Father Remus,” your grandma corrected.

“Right, sorry,” you said, almost carelessly, not carelessly enough for her to notice, though.

“I’m glad you came, I don’t think any of your cousins made it.”

“Oh, it was nothing, Nan,” you said as you turned around to see if Remus was still around. He was not anymore, you turned back to her. “It’s lovely to be here with you.”

That wasn’t entirely a lie, you liked spending time with her, she was lovely. But you did not like going to the church, you had long parted with the catholic ideals and you weren’t interested in most of the archaic teachings of the church. Especially the homophobic ones, you thought the closed-mindedness of the church was a terrible thing, and that it stopped many people from being who they truly were, not to mention how it affected a lot of people you knew. It was because of that close-mindedness that some of your friends had to hide themselves from their parents. Because god forbid their children were gay.

Now, not everything about the church was bad, some values were good and important, but at this point in the progressive world, perhaps the bad outweighed the good. And in the end, religions were just a way of controlling the masses, no surprise the church service was called “mass”.

You could have made a list of everything that was wrong, in a very Lutheran manner, sent it to your grandma and never attended again, but she was old and you knew there was no way she’d understand, especially when she’d been conditioned to think a certain way for far more years than you’d been alive. So instead, you decided to sit through the service with her, and make her happy, rather than be the rebel you sometimes wanted to be.

Ah the service, it was boring until Remus came out. If you thought he’d look handsome in the cassock, you could have been awestruck when you saw him wearing that white alb. Yes, those Sunday school days had taught you enough. He wore a cincture around the waist that matched the alb, and you’d swear you deserve hell when you pictured yourself pulling the entire thing off him in a secret corner of the massive church. In the middle of mass, while the head priest kept talking about things related to Jesus and how he saved someone or whatever, you were thinking of calm and collected Father Remus, losing control and giving in to the lust of the flesh, and all of it for you.

A small smirk played on your face as you thought of all the things you’d like to do to Remus, of all the sounds you’d have him make. Was it sinful? Perhaps. Did it warrant hell? Most likely. Luckily, you didn’t believe in hell any more than you believed in heaven.

And then it came to you. The idea that would certainly warrant a hell of a lot more than your lewd imaginings. If stealing was a sin, then how sinful would it be to steal something from god? To pilfer one of his men for yourself?

What an ungodly thing to do, so devilish that perhaps you wouldn’t be in hell to be punished but rather to punish. Was it perhaps a revenge for being forced into church for so many years, for having to sit through hours of Sunday School and the indoctrination you had to put up with but somehow managed to see past? Yeah. But at this point, you weren’t sure you cared. Something about Remus had sucked you in like a moth to a flame and you wanted to cling to whatever that was. Otherwise, you might have not be able to go through with your plan.

It wouldn’t happen all in one day, it couldn’t happen all in one day. It had to be slow, steady, and repetitive, like the snake tempting Eve, like Eve tempting Adam. You hadn’t seen yourself as a sexy woman throughout your life, at least not the kind of Sexy Femme Fatale that men seemed to live and diе for in movies. No, you had never been like that, and you wouldn’t start today. But you would perform the most outrageous and strong act of seduction you had ever thought of and it had to be done perfectly, or you wouldn’t get what you wanted.

What was it that you wanted again? Right, you wanted Remus Lupin.

ACT II: Thou shall not steal

“When was the last time you confessed?” Your Nan whispered as she leaned onto you, people were already standing for communion.

You hesitated. “I’m not sure, Nan.”

She hummed in return, clearly disapproving of your distancing from the church. You were sure she would have called you heathen if you said the truth, it had been years.

“I could go up and confess now,” you said as you looked at the confessionary in the back, you had seen Remus enter it, but you suspected it was too soon to start with the plan.

“No darling, repent for your sins and you can confess later. Perhaps after mass.”

“Or during the week,” you said with a knowing smile.

“Isn’t it a long way from your apartment?”

“I’m sure it’ll be worth it anyway.”

She stood up and took the communion, leaving you sitting on the chair and looking at the way people would walk toward the altar. Judging them, if that made sense. There was a woman who accommodated her breasts back in her seat before standing up, she threw a look at one of the other priests as she took the host. You gave her an approving sort of glance before you turned to someone else. Now you didn’t exactly consider her way of seducing appealing, but then again, yours wouldn’t be much better either. So to each their own. The man behind her had been touching himself in the very back of the church and had stared at her ass throughout the entire line, probably for more material.

Sinners, the church claiming to be so saint, and it was full of them.

You weren’t much better than them either, the difference is that you didn’t harbour the same hate towards yourself for it. No, you knew what nature was and you knew that despite how much we humans pretended to be better, we still were all animals. And there are a few things that animals want and need. Love, or the act of love, was one of them. That’s what you’d be using to your favour.

When your Nan came back, you helped her kneel and do her praying; all the while you attentively looked around. Remus had left the concessionary already and he was at the front with the rest of the priests. He spotted you looking at him and you smiled kindly, innocently at him. The kind of smile someone with the thoughts surging in your head wouldn’t be able to give, and yet, you accomplished it seamlessly.

He gave you a courteous nod and you reciprocated it. The rest of the mass was as boring as you’d expect it to be; except for the fact that Remus was looking at you rather often, either he was curious about their new parishioner, or he was interested. Either way, you were sure you’d be able to use that in your favour.

When the mass was over, you had to wait for all of them to exit the church first and then you helped your Nan stand and walked with her towards the entrance. Remus was there, giving short blessings and handing out some pamphlets about donations and other similar stuff. Your grandma was the one to pull you towards him. “What a wonderful mass,” she said. “Father Ernest was onto something when he told me to come here while I was in the city.”

“Thank you,” Remus said bashfully, you could almost see him blush at the praise. What would a real blush look on him? You were dying to know.

“Wonderful indeed, although I would have liked to hear your interpretation of the verses, Remus,” You said.

“Father Remus,” your grandma corrected.

“Oh, it’s fine. If it feels more personal you may call me just Remus, dear one.”

You tried to hold back the snide smile you would have thrown your Nan had it been any other woman. You could call him Remus. You were a dear one.

“Right, perhaps another day,” you added with a smile and pulled your grandma to the side so the next person could take the blessing.

“I preach on Wednesdays,” Remus said, tone borderline desperate, as he raised his head over the people and women piling around him. Clearly, you weren’t the only one to harbour a little crush on Father Remus. It didn’t matter though, because you’d be the one to have him.

Next Wednesday you didn’t make any plans, and you put on something simple but elegant. A squared-neck shirt and a pair of jeans. When you arrived at the church, you didn’t waste as much time admiring it, instead, you decided to walk straight inside. His mass had started already, and you sneaked in through the side until you reached the third row of seats. There weren’t as many people as you’d expect on a Wednesday, but Remus was preaching like there were hundreds. He was wonderful.

He had a way with words that made you want to listen, perhaps if you weren’t so cynical, it would even convert you. But rather than thinking of his prayer, you were thinking of how incredible he would be as a teacher, you imagined the students, squirming for him and his words in their seats. You imagined the older, more daring girls going after him. You were lucky that wasn’t the situation, the kind of woman that could seduce any man had the benefit of practice that you didn’t. You wouldn’t have stood a chance against them.

But the kind of woman that went to the church, the kind that flocked to him at the end of mass, they weren’t a threat. They were too pious to try anything even remotely similar to what you had in mind. In fact, you even dared to think you were lucky that he had been a priest and not a teacher because then he would have perhaps been married, and while you were willing to take a man from god, you would never take one from another woman. You had limits.

After the mass was over, you waited a few minutes before leaving the church “accidentally” bumping into him again. “Remus,” you said with a smile. “We seem to continue bumping into each other,” you added as you leaned closer to him and pressed your cheek to his, making a low smacking sound, and then repeating on the other side. He looked bewildered at the contact. “Oh, I’m sorry, did I make you uncomfortable? I got this habit while I was in France and I still haven’t shaken it off completely.”

“Oh… No, no,” hesitant, bashful, you loved every bit of it. “Not at all, it’s fine. You can greet me however you like.”

“Is that privilege reserved to me, or does every other parishioner have it?” He seemed taken aback by your words. “I’m joking, Remus,” you added and placed your hand on his arm, before pulling it back tentatively. “Your mass was wonderful.”

“Thank you, I’m lucky to work at Saint Gryffin.”

“The way I see it, Saint Gryffin is lucky to have you. I mean lots of women come here to see the beautiful priest Remus.”

“You think?” he asked. Remus didn’t exactly consider himself handsome, he thought his scars would scare people away rather than attract them. But he sometimes failed to see past them and didn’t pay attention to his beautiful eyes, to his charming smile, to his long lashes, or to his well-toned frame. It was as if he had been carved by Michael Angelo himself, from your perspective.

“For sure,” you replied. “Take a closer look at the way they look at you on Sunday and you’ll see.” He blushed, a deeper shade of red than your Nan had pulled out of him, you resisted the urge to bite your lip and smiled instead. “Today was lovely, I’ll see you around,” you said before waving goodbye and exiting the church.

You went again a week later, Remus would sometimes lose his focus on the bible and look at you instead. That day you had chosen a skirt. Nothing too short or indecent, but certainly short enough to allow your legs to be seen and admired. An older man hadn’t stopped staring at you throughout the mass, and you would have perhaps told him off if it hadn’t been for the fact that Remus had been in a similar position.

Remus’ distraction, his hesitance and his constant turning to you were enough to drive your attention away from the man and onto him. You would smile, and you would nod, and you would pretend to be a supportive little lamb. Innocent, and meek and kind. Just what he expected from you. And it was that Wednesday, the third time that you’d met him, that you realised you had him right where you wanted him to be.

He for sure had a thing for you, be it curiosity, admiration, or a small crush. You had gotten his attention, and you had gotten into his mind. Now all you needed was to have him.

ACT III: Thou shall not Covet someone else’s property

The next Wednesday you had been late, you had allowed your hair to be slightly dishevelled and your cheeks were warm, despite the autumn getting colder. You had bitten your lips and you looked like you had just gotten away from a dire situation. You’d done it on purpose. When his gaze fell on you he almost stopped talking completely. He staggered to complete his words and you nodded for him to go on. When he was done, he rushed out, and you stayed in your seat. Eyes closed and hands clasping each other, pretending to pray.

That’s when you felt a gentle hand on your shoulder, he whispered your name. “Are you okay, Little Lamb?”

It took a real effort not to laugh at his nickname. Not because you thought it was stupid, but because you were so far from a lamb that you might as well have been the wolf that ate it. You turned to him, fake distress clouding your features, “I’ve done something terrible, Remus.”

He was kind, almost impossibly so, it almost made you want to stop your plan and leave him the pure man he was.

Almost.

“I’m sure there’s nothing you could do, that was as bad as you’ve described.”

“I’d like to confess,” you said. “Would you take my confession?”

Remus seemed hesitant, biting his lip. He knew he shouldn’t. He shouldn’t hear your confession, not when he wanted to maintain a personal relationship with you, not when he’d develop a crush. But it was in your preoccupied gaze, in the small frown that etched your features, in the way your lips curved down and in the bobbing of your throat as you swallowed. How ever could he deny you?

Oh, those thoughts would be the ones that would drag him into sin, nay, not drag, but rather, waft him into it. If Remus hadn’t been so enamoured by you, perhaps corrupting him would have proved a harder task to accomplish for you.

“Okay,” he said simply. And helped you stand. Guiding you towards the empty confessionary and sitting in his spot as you opened the door to the other one. It was a narrow place, enough for you to sit. There was a screen dividing the two of you, you couldn’t see him, but you suspected he could see you. And there was a small, square hole in between, enough to fit perhaps a hand. You assumed it was there in case you’d like to give something to the priest, as a thank you.

Remus cleared his throat, and in the most professional way he could muster he said, “In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Amen. My child, what brings you to the sacrament of confession today?”

His voice had been different, stronger as if he was trying not to be himself. You loved it. “Father, I come seeking forgiveness for my sins. I have strayed from the path of righteousness and I seek reconciliation,” you let your voice bend and crack near the end.

“I am here to listen, my child. Let us begin with a moment of reflection. Take a moment to examine your conscience and bring to mind the sins you wish to confess.”

You held back the smirk that threatened to appear when he said that, just in case he was actually able to see you. “I have fallen in love with a man I cannot have.”

“Oh, darling,” he said, that was Remus, not Father Remus. You had cracked through his façade and you hadn’t even started. “That is not a sin. It’s happened to the best of us.”

“But it is a sin the way I think of him, Father,” you responded. You heard a sharp intake of breath, but he didn’t speak further. “I have dreamt of him, of his lips, of his eyes with long lashes, the way his hair frames his face, of his beautiful and strong hands–” Remus tried not to be jealous of the man you described, but everything about him seemed perfect, and unlike himself, he probably could have you. Your beautiful lips, and eyes, focused solely on him. He hated the guy already. “–sliding between my legs, and touching me.”

“Do not speak further,” there was an edge of alarm in his voice. A bit of a broken end to it.

“Oh but Father I must,” you said. “If I don’t I’m afraid I’ll act upon my feelings in the same way I did today while thinking of him.”

“You…” he hesitated. “You touched yourself… Is that why you’re here?”

“Yes,” you replied with a frown, almost a wince, all of it an act, of course.

“Pray Our Father 10 times and–”

“No! Allow me to relate my story, Father,” he tried to stop you. “I must, I must, or then I might go to him and offer myself in a terrible, ungodly manner and then I won’t ever be deserving of the church ever again.”

Frankly, you didn’t even know how you’d gotten so inspired, but Remus relented, nodding and when he realised you hadn’t heard, he bit his cheek and said. “Go on then.”

You sighed, that was a real sigh, you weren’t sure you’d get this far. “I had a dream of him, Father. He was handsome as ever, and he looked at me, with such kind eyes, with such loving eyes, that when he leaned in to kiss me, I didn’t stop him.”

Remus was already praying for himself. He did not want to imagine you in your bed, your hair sprawled over the pillow and your mind away in a dream, kissing another man.

“I didn’t stop him when he pinned me against the wall, and I didn’t stop him when his hand dug under my shirt. I said nothing when it travelled to my breast, and I all but moaned when he pinched my nipple.”

“That is enough, I get the idea.”

“But that’s not the whole dream,” you protested, you sounded mortified. How could he stop your repentance for his own misguided thoughts? A man of God wasn’t supposed to harbour this kind of feelings for a fellow human, he was not meant to like you so much, and his pants were not meant to be as uncomfortable.

“You don’t have to go onto the details–”

“But Father, I must repent for all of my sins.”

Remus sighed, “Go on then.”

“And then when he reached down, oh Remus, I spread my legs for him rather than shut them close…” you didn’t say a thing. You could hear his breathing had gotten a lot more ragged. “He slid this hand through my knickers and touched me, that place that should only be touched by your husband. And… it felt good. I moaned his name until my voice went hoarse in the dream. I saw him pump himself and woke up as he rubbed his cock onto my folds.”

There was a sigh of relief when he thought the story was over. “It is good that you repent–”

“The worst part is yet to come.” You said, and you breathed. “When I awoke, I felt a wetness between my legs. My underwear was moist and the stickiness had rubbed onto my legs. I know I shouldn’t have done it, Remus, but I couldn’t resist the temptation. I wanted to know if it would feel as good as in the dream.”

“Child.”

“I reached down and repeated the actions the man had done to me. My fingers weren’t as strong or secure, but I found a spot that felt incredible, and I kept touching it, rubbing it, circling around it.”

Remus’ boner was straining against his pants in an almost painful way. He wanted to let go, he wanted to set him free and chase his own pleasure at your words. At how he pictured you in your bed, sweaty and sighing as you touched yourself. You were so beautiful, he found innocence even in the way you sinned.

“And then there was bliss, I thought I was dеad and had gone to heaven, but I came back, vision cloudy and disoriented. My bedsheets were sticky with my juices and I had to change them. I’ve been in a permanent state of shame ever since then.”

“Let us pray for your forgiveness,” Remus said. And my own, he thought. Now not only your sheets had been stained, but so had his pants, just from hearing you. You would have relished on the knowledge if you’d had it.

“Thank you, Father,” you said as you stood.

“Pray tell me child, whoever is this man that has you in such an altered state of mind?”

Got him! you thought as you turned your gaze to the confessionary. And almost in a whisper, you murmured. “Well, it’s you, Remus.”

ACT IV: Thou shall not commit adultery

Remus couldn’t stop thinking of you since that day. He’d get boners with the mere thought of you, with the idea of you going back to his confessionary and telling him all the lewd things you had done while thinking of him again.

He thought of you in the shower, and he thought of you in bed, and he thought of you while praying to try and take his mind away from you as well. He knew he was in deep trouble and he had no one he could talk to about his problem.

He had avoided touching himself, but it was hard and it was painful to ignore the throbbing sometimes, and he had to give in. Gently brushing his hand on top of his trousers until either it subdued or he came, completely forgetting who he was and thinking only of your hot lips in his and your legs wrapped around his waist as he kissed you in the exact same way he’d had you in your dream. A dream that had now become as much his as it had been yours.

The next Wednesday he was nervous. Bouncing his leg while he had breakfast and playing with his nails while he read the verse he’d have to give that day. His breath was stuck in his throat as he started to preach and he waited. And waited as he spoke and looked at the door and then back at the bible held between his hands and then back at the door.

You didn’t go to church that day.

Naturally, he was mortified. Thinking he had done something wrong, thinking he had scared you and thinking he’d pushed you away somehow. Thinking you were too scared to see him again after those lewd dreams, thinking –God forbid- you had chosen a different church to attend.

So when the next Wednesday you showed up with a small skirt (the smallest you had ever gone to church with) and a simple preppy-looking sweater he couldn’t help but be both relieved and terrified, all at the same time. You had tinted your lips red, not enough for it to be lipstick, but enough for them to look raw and bitten, and while your hair was perfectly put together, and your makeup right in place, there was something about you that screamed danger.

You sat right in the very first row. There were like 5 other people in the massive church that day. Someone sitting in the middle. A couple of old people in the back and a few others scattered around. No one young, and no one near the front either.

Oh, what a terrible thing it was that you were about to do.

Remus was quick to dismiss his deacons, asking them to go fetch something while he preached mass and they gave him a courteous nod while he started talking. As per usual, you listened attentively, paying close attention to the things he said, and despite yourself, often finding the things that you disagreed with. You realized he could barely take his eyes off you, and you slowly, spread your legs. Only a little, only enough to get his attention. You saw the way he licked his lips, and went back to talking. And you smiled. You pulled your ass back and opened yourself a little wider before crossing one leg over the other. You accommodated your skirt with your hand, slow and steady. Pulling your skirt up to show more skin before pulling it down and settling it in place, but only after he’d noticed, and seen as much of skin as possible, all the while, pretending to be doing it all innocently. Like you hadn’t worn that small skirt on purpose and like you hadn’t taken off your knickers and placed them in your bag in that public loo before walking inside the church.

When the mass ended, you saw Remus disappear into the confessionary. Onto the confession side. You saw him look around and then get inside, nervous as if scared to be seen. Probably trying to run away from you. When you made sure that there was no one left, you walked inside the other side. He was hunched, elbows leaning on his knees and head hidden between his hands. You thought you had gone too far since he looked like he had been crying, but you quickly realised he had been praying instead.

Sure, he’d have complicated thoughts, but your plan was meant to be fun for the two of you, and you wanted him to enjoy being corrupted as much as you enjoyed corrupting him.

“Remus,” you said tentatively. “Are you okay?”

He gasped and turned to the small division, he couldn’t see you, but you could see him perfectly. “It’s you.”

Rather than replying you cocked your head to the side. “Take a moment to examine your conscience and bring to mind the sins you wish to confess,” you joked. He gave you a stern look from the other side, a reproaching sort of look as if he wanted to tell you how terrible it was for you to impersonate a Priest, but he didn’t speak. “Or should I speak of mine first?”

“Please don’t.”

“Then sing, little bird.”

Remus huffed. “I’ve been thinking about a woman, non-stop.”

“A church woman?”

“I’m not sure if she really is a church woman anymore.”

“A devil?”

“No.”

You smiled, “Then, what’s so wrong about thinking of her?”

“I’m no ordinary man. It’s against my beliefs.”

“To think of a woman is against your beliefs?”

“To think of her in the way I’ve been thinking of her.”

“Which is?”

“As terrible as your dream, my darling.”

You smirked at that, biting your lip so hard you might have drawn bIood if you hadn’t stopped to say something else. “So you’ve been thinking of kissing me?”

“Yes.”

“Of touching me?”

“Yes,” he said, strained.

“Of fucking me?”

Silence.

“Have you thought of the sounds I would make, of the sighs and moans and groans?”

He closed his eyes, a deep frown etched on his features. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I used your confession to fuel my imaginations, to satisfy my carnal desires to–”

“That’s okay.”

“It is not!” he responded, distressed.

“Remus,” you said simply. “I wanted you to think of me,” you admitted. “I wanted you to think of me while you touched yourself the same way I thought of you while I did it. The same way I’ve been thinking of you while doing it, in fact.”

His head snapped your way, he seemed mortified, but you could also see one of his hands being brought down, adjusting his pants.

“Do you want me to tell you how I do it?”

“No,” he lied.

“Are you sure? I won’t ask again.”

He looked to the side, red from shame. He bit his lip. “Tell me.”

You smiled, “I lay in bed, and then these images come to my mind, I think of you, of your hands. They’re touching me, they’re everywhere. I don’t know where you ended and I start and I love every bit of it. It’s my hands that travel down my thighs but I think of them as yours. It is my fingers that slide in between my folds but I believe they’re yours.”

“Fucking hell,” he said, his grip on the wooden latch, grip tightening until his knuckles turned white. You peered through the blinds and realised the tent in his pants.

“Remus,” you said quietly. He turned to the wooden division, gaze strained, eyes filled with guilt, he was looking for you, but he couldn’t see past the squares and the small, shadow of you that got through. “Touch yourself.”

It was soft, the way you said it. Soft like a suggestion more than a command, but neither of you doubted it was the latter. And as if it had been a command from God himself, he listened and did what told. He patted himself over his black pants and hissed at the strain he’d been on. It was almost painful, how constricted and trapped his cock had been.

“Soft,” you said then, watching, resisting your own temptation to dig your hand under your skirt. “Be kind to yourself, Remus, you deserve it.”

He listened, and continued to rub himself, passing his hand back and forth and allowing it to help with the strain. “Te” –he stuttered– “tell me how you feel.”

“The inner side of my legs is soft, incredibly so,” you said. “I get chills when I run my hands close to my core.”

“It’s wet,” you said then. You had dug your hand under your skirt now. “Really wet.”

He could hear your breaths getting sharper, he assumed you were also touching yourself on the other side and he could barely think properly, barely command his hand to do what it needed to do to help himself.

“That looks painful,” you said as you saw him continue to rub himself over his trousers. “Take yourself out.”

“What?” he asked, confused.

“Touch yourself with your bare hand, Remus.”

He seemed like he would protest, so you decided to give him some encouragement. You placed your finger between your folds and brushed over your clit, emitting a soft moan, “Please.”

Just like before, Remus followed your command, unbuttoning his pants and pulling his boxers down enough so he could pull himself out. You smiled. “So beautiful, aren’t you?” you praised from the other side. He was long, thick and standing proud. He was hesitant at first, but he eventually placed his hand around himself. “Fuck,” he whispered. “I’d forgotten how good it feels.”

Of course, he had been a teenager once, of course, he had touched himself while feeling terrible for doing so and having grown up in a Christian household.

“Remus?”

“Yeah?” he asked, as he pumped. Slow and steady, as if he didn’t want to go too fast and show you how easy it was for him to cum at the thought of you.

“You’re making me insanely wet, I might have ruined your comfy little chair here.”

“Are you teasing me?”

“No, I’m being a good little lamb that tells no lies,” you said in response. “Ah… fuck.”

“What was that?”

“Just thinking of how incredible your hand would feel if it were doing what mine is?”

“Which is?”

“Shhh…” you said. He stopped moving. “You hear that?” you asked. It was a lewd wet sound. “It’s my finger, coming in and out of myself.”

Remus moaned your name and bit his lips. He came in his hand before he had time to really visualize you. “Ugh,” he said as he looked at the mess he’d made all over his hands, some of it also on his pants.

You took a handkerchief from your bag and passed it over your legs, collecting some of the sticky stuff between your folds and then you passed it through the small, opened section. Crossing your hand, the one with still glistening fingers over.

You knew he’d noticed the second his eyes opened wide. “So you clean yourself, I used it for myself too.” He bit his lip and carefully took it from your hands, and cleaned your fingers with it as if he tried to wash his sin by cleaning your equally sinful fingers. But he didn’t bring his cum covered hand even close to it. Let alone his cock. “What? You think it’s gross?”

“I don’t want to ruin it,” he said as he brought it close to his nose and sniffed, stifling a moan with the fabric. Now you were the speechless one. “Do you have a napkin?”

You somehow managed to pull a napkin from your bag and handed it over to him through the same place. He used that to clean himself and placed it neatly folded in one of his pockets.

“Can I keep this?” he asked as he held the handkerchief between two fingers.

“Yes,” you almost stuttered. You had never seen a man do something as ridiculous –and hot– as what he’d done.

“Will you disappear again, angel?”

“Angel?” you asked with a smirk, “I would think you’d see me as something else, a devil, perhaps.”

“Impossible, a devil wouldn’t be able to show me heaven like you did today.”

Speecheless, again. This man really could bring you to your knees. “Do you even want to see me again?”

“More than anything on this earth.”

“Fine then, I’ll come to confess tomorrow, how does that sound?”

“I’ll be waiting.”

ACT V: Thou shall honour your Mother and Father

After the heat of the moment, Remus felt the sudden urge to repent, to throw away the handkerchief and to pray in bed until his knees were raw from how much he’d been kneeling. And he tried, but even as he prayed he knew how pointless it was. The act of repenting, of praying and being forgiven for your sins, only worked if you actually felt regret over what you’d done.

But Remus was far from feeling remorseful. He had repented a great many things throughout his life. Not trusting his innocent best friend and blaming him for things that had happened, not doing more for the world when he had the chance and smaller, pesky things that most people wouldn’t bat an eyelash about but that he constantly put himself down for.

But having done what he did on the confessionary, hearing your small moans and the lewd sounds that you’d made for him, telling him what to do and how to do it, that he didn’t regret. On the other hand, he wanted to do it again. You had taken him to heaven and he was eager to see it again. And he did it, repeated the same actions, it was cold and dark and there was no one even close to his room when he pulled that handkerchief out and placed it on his face. Smelling the scent of you while he pulled himself out of his pants and jerked himself for the second time that day. He came with the thought of you at the confessionary and your name muffled by the handkerchief that he refused to move from his mouth. By the end, he was sore and delicate and he felt like he had pushed himself too hard, but he found the most peaceful sleep afterwards.

When he woke up again, he was still covered in his own cum and he had to wash the sheets of his bed in his sink before anyone noticed what he had done. The shame he felt diluting as the sun rose, and he imagined you coming back to the church. He pictured you in that small skirt you’d worn yesterday, or in the simple dress you’d taken the first time that you went to hear his mass. But he was not expecting to see you walk in the clothes you’d worn.

A white dress, long enough to reach mid-thigh, and made of soft sheer fabric layered one on top of another. He might have been imagining things but he would have sworn he could see your nipples perk through the thin fabric when you turned to him, a small, innocent smile on your face as you threw him a look and walked inside the confessionary. An angel, you really were an angel.

“Pretty thing, you’ve come back,” he said as he too walked in, this time taking the side that belonged to him, he loved that he could see you.

“I promised, Remus.”

“I know, angel. But I’m always scared I’ve dreamed you up, that you’re not real and that I was just imagining you all along.”

You smirked and pushed your hand through the small hole connecting the two of you, “I’m very real, Remus, you can touch me.”

He did, he placed his hand on top of yours and you heard a sigh of relief when his thumbs pressed onto your hand. He was careful and kind, passing his fingers over your knuckles and under your palm in a soft, gentle manner that was sending shivers down your spine. This poor man was breaking down for you, and yet he was the gentlest of them all.

“You really are,” he breathed. He didn’t know if he should be happy that you were real, or horrified by the things he’d done for you, of the things he’d do. His faith? He might have been willing to throw it all away for another chance to see you, for another chance to feel your hands, for your lips, your kisses. How could he believe in a God that had given him nothing, when you were here, willing to give him everything?

“Yesterday I saw it all and you barely got to hear me, I thought of showing you my sins rather than describing them to you today, is that okay, Father?” That last bit was a taunt, in the same way you’d been taunting him since the very beginning.

“Yes,” there was no hesitance, if anything, you would have only described the waver in his voice as excitement.

You couldn’t hold back the smirk that pulled from your lips, Remus’ breath hitched as you accommodated yourself in the chair. Leaning back and spreading your legs for him, letting the soft fabric of your dress fall in between your tights and slowly show the outline of your legs.

“When was the last time you saw a woman naked?”

“In real life? Never.”

Your head snapped to him, although all you could see was the outline of a shadow through the dark-edged wood, “Never?!? Pictures?”

“When I was around 15.” He admitted. “My best friend Peter once took a few magazines to school after the break. He said his father had gotten them for him on his 14th birthday and that he told them to take them back before his mother noticed. I barely remember them.”

“Did you jack off to them?”

“I stole a page,” he admitted with a bitter laugh. “It was this girl with a forest-green, transparent robe. I took her home with me, my father found it and he was enraged. He called me a monster and drove me straight into church.”

“The priest there took a look at the image, and made me kneel down on the rocky floor and pray for forgiveness. I don’t know if he forgot, or if he did it on purpose, but he said not to stand until he came back and he didn’t come back until 7 hours later.”

“My god,” you said. Remus didn’t even think of reprimanding you for taking his name in vain. “That must have been awful. Your parents were terrible.”

Remus shrugged, “It’s what I was used to,” he added when he remembered you couldn’t actually see him, although you could feel his hands tense at the thought.

“That means, since then… you’ve never even–?”

“No,” he admitted softly. “I guess it’s easier not to do something when you don’t know how it feels. Although my best friend was always eager to tell me how good it was.”

“Worry not, you won’t have to use your imagination anymore,” you said as you pulled your hand back into your area and moved it to the thin strap of the dress, slowly sliding it down, he could barely see the valley of your breast, and yet he felt himself start to tense, his cheeks heat and bIood rushing south.

“You don’t have to–”

“But I want to,” you said, turning your gaze from your bare shoulder and towards him, he could see the mirth shining in your eyes, he could see the mischievousness and the licentiousness reflected on your pupils. You pulled the other strap down and then moved both of your hands to the fabric at the top of your breasts, pulling it down and letting them in full view.

Remus breathed sharply when he finally saw them. Of course, he knew what they looked like, the girls in Peter’s magazine had shown him. James had described them, but that was nothing compared to seeing them in real life, it was nothing compared to seeing yours in real life.

You smiled at the little to no sound he was making from the other side. You leaned your back on the stunningly carved wooden wall of the confessionary and squared your shoulders for him. “They look like this for you,” you said as you slid your hand over one of your nipples. “They turned hard the minute I spotted you at the door.”

Silence, nothing more than a ragged breath.

“Cat got your tongue?” You teased.

“I had never seen a prettier thing in my life,” he said. “Except for your angelic face, that is.”

You laughed in return, a sweet and soft laugh that he would have done anything to hear again. “You’re good at this for someone who’s never done it.”

“Good at what?”

“At making a woman blush.” You said. “But I’m just as good,” you added as you pulled one of your legs up on the small seat, your dress fell over and bunched up covering your core, but Remus barely even cared, he was immersed in the plushness of your thigh, imagining how it would feel wrapped around his waist.

You heard him swallow thickly.

“In my dream,” you started, “In my dream, we weren’t here, we were hiding somewhere in the church.” Your breath had slowed down, one of your hands was playing with your thigh, the other one on your breast. You didn’t usually pay much attention to them, but it was that you knew his eyes were on you, that touching them, knowing how it must have made him feel, was turning you on even more than before. “You were kissing me –ah– you were touching me.”

Remus was, by now, having to adjust his extremely uncomfortable pants.

“How?” he asked, almost in a whisper. “Show me how I was touching you.”

You couldn’t even hold back the smile from your face. “You traced your fingers over my thigh,” you placed your hand on your bare knee, and then started to move it downwards, towards yourself. “You were kissing me here,” you added as you leaned your neck to the side for him to see better. And then… you touched me here.” Your hand was already in your core. You moved the ruffles of the dress to the side, allowing him to see, to see all of you. You heard a small gasp, when he noticed you had worn no knickers.

“You slid your hands on my slit,” you said and followed your own instructions, “Soft and gentle, like you are when you’re preaching. In the same way that you moved your delicate slender fingers over the bible,” you breathed, a little more ragged now. “You slid one of your fingers in between my folds, and looked for my clit. You found it almost instantly, and you rolled your finger over it gently, you loved my whimpers.”

“I do,” he agreed. “I imagined them while touching myself last night. Those wet little sounds you make when you–”

“Ah,” you breathed as you dug your fingers inside yourself, your walls tightening around it involuntarily. “Like this?” you asked and smiled, biting your lip before you did it again. You brought the hand on your breast downwards and leaned back a little so you could spread your legs even further. Remus’ mouth watered, he wondered how wrong would it be to taste you?

To bury his head in your legs and lick all of the wetness that coated your fingers, to be so close that the smell of you got everywhere, that he wouldn’t need the handkerchief to feel you close. You continued to touch yourself. Breathing heavily, sighting and moaning softly, he wondered what that would feel if it were directly whispered into his ear.

You were so lost in yourself for those first few minutes, so wrapped in the feeling that you hadn’t realized the lack of beautiful moans from his side.

“Remus–” you said breathily, “Why aren’t you touching yourself?”

“Yesterday at night I– I did it again… a couple of times. I’m, it’s a little painful,” he admitted shamefully, but your eyes shone with lust so intense at his words that he continued talking. “It was your little handkerchief’s fault. I was going to wash it, but I got its scent and it made me feral.”

“Aha?” you asked, as you continued to touch yourself.

“I couldn’t stop thinking of you. Shut my door and laid on my bed with it over my nose.”

You hummed contentedly, half a moan, half a hum.

“I was so hard it was ridiculous. I had barely even smelled you. I hadn’t even gone through the images of that wonderful dream of yours.”

You sighted in bliss, breath ragged as you slid your finger out of yourself and turned to him with a smile.

“I have an idea,” you said and then let out a breathy laugh.

Want to support me? Like and reblog this post. Comments are my life fuel, so send them out if you have any. I've also got a Kofi if you're interested.

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queerbuckleys · 1 day

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CAN I GO WHERE YOU GO? 920 words | bucktommy | 7x06 coda a/n: look it me! i wrote something :P just a soft little thing that i couldn't stop thinking about <3 idek how long it has been since i published something episode related lol so be kind and gentle if you please<3 title is kinda just what fit best lol, enjoy!

Buck twirls his niece around as music plays quietly over a speaker, barely loud enough to hear over the quiet chatter. He swings her up and deposits her next to her newly-wed parents, and they look perfect. Buck remembers the reception of her first wedding, his cheeks didn’t hurt from smiling then, they do now, and by the looks of it so do Maddie’s.

“You might want to–” she points toward the chair in the corner that holds his beast of a boyfriend, a bottled water coming dangerously close to slipping from his exhaustion-induced slack grip.

“I should get him home, the adrenaline has worn off. I love you both so much, and you,” he ruffles Jee’s hair and leans in for a group hug, placing a kiss in his sister's hair. If he thinks too hard about everything he might cry, so he leaves unsaid and squeezes her tight hoping she understands.

He takes the water bottle from Tommy’s hands and stands between his legs, gently cupping his cheek, “Hey, you are exhausted, let’s get you home. I’ll drive you.”

And Tommy looks up at him through his eyelashes– how had Buck not noticed those before now?

“You don’t have to– you should stay here. I’m sure Maddie–”

“What she wants is for me to get you home safely, and visiting hours are almost over anyway.”

He can see Tommy trying to come up with a rebuttal, his mouth opening and closing as he tries to say something and then gives up.

Buck grabs Tommy’s turnout coat from the back of the chair, folding it over his arm and taking Tommy’s hand in his.

“Congratulations again you two,” Tommy says as enthusiastically as he can before they turn toward the door.

—

Buck is awkwardly sitting at a table in the common area of Harbor. It feels weird to be in another station without his reason for being there within sight. Tommy had assured him that it was okay for him to sit, and if anyone gave him trouble to tell them that he was there with him.

“Buckley! What are you doing here?” a familiar voice nearly makes him jump out of his seat.

“Lu-Lucy! Hi.”

She stands behind the chair across from him, leaning on her elbows on the top of the chair. And she actually waits for him to answer.

“I-I’m waiting for Tommy. Had to swing by to drop off his turnouts and get his bag.”

Her brow crinkles a little and she cocks her head, “his shift ended hours ago?”

“He uhhh, he came to Maddie and Chimney’s wedding. He’s pretty exhausted so I’m driving him home.”

“He went to a wedding after that fire? In his turnouts?”

“It was at the hospital, wild story really. And I asked him to be there, so he was.” he blushes a little as he watches her do a little math.

“Donato! Are you bullying Evan?” Buck can hear the smile on Tommy’s lips as he feels his hand land on his shoulder. He looks up at his boyfriend, and Tommy leans down, giving him a light kiss on his cheek. He looks a little brighter after rinsing off in the station showers and changing back into his Henley.

“I was wondering why you had table privileges,” she smiles. “So, Chim finally got hitched huh, tell him and Maddie congrats for me.”

“Will do,” Buck smiles at her, and she walks away toward what he assumes is the snack cabinet. “Let’s get out of here and you into bed huh?”

“You read my mind.”

—

There’s a stillness in the car as they sit in Tommy’s driveway.

“Evan, come inside. You’ve had a long stressful day too.”

It’s like Tommy is inside his head, he doesn’t want to be alone tonight, not when he didn’t have to be.

“And if the texts you sent me last night are any indication, you also did it all while hungover which I’m sure wasn’t all that pleasant. And, besides, you still owe me at least one dance.”

“You are practically falling asleep sitting up and you want to dance?”

“It’s what I was promised.”

TOmmy reaches over the console between them, turning Buck’s face toward him, leans in and kisses him in earnest. Not quite as intense as their greeting earlier and not as gentle as their first. “Just come inside please,” he says just above a whisper against his lips.

“Okay.”

—

Buck takes in Tommy’s little house, it’s cozy with some of its years showing.

“You can move past the entryway Evan. Just take your shoes off.”

“Oh,” he replies softly, barely having noticed that he was slightly frozen. He toes off his shoes.

“C’mere,” Tommy holds out his hand, a song that Buck doesn’t know the name of softly drifting from the speakers. He lands in his boyfriend’s arms and it feels like it’s exactly where he is supposed to be. One hand on his neck, the other clasped together in Tommy’s, his other hand resting on his waist. It’s mostly quiet as they sway in the middle of the small living room.

“You know, I never really got the whole hot firefighter thing until I saw you walk through those doors?”

“You really are adorable.” Tommy smiles.

“Thank you for today. It means a lot that you did really try your damndest and succeeded.” He says earnestly.

“Of course. It was important to you.”

And Buck can’t help but kiss him for that, and he does, because he can.

#911 abc #bucktommy #evan buckley #tommy kinard #911fic #*ajwritesstuff #*codas

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st4rgzer · 3 days

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now playing…SO LONG, LONDON (spencer reid)

summary: spencer realizes how much damage he had been causing you.

genre: angst with fluffy ending

cw!: idk relationship problems?😭 also use of y/n and y/l/n (your last name)

a/n: so since y’all wanted a happy ending version! here it is, it isn’t quite like the song but yeah, you guys get the point. masterlist

tension protruded eagerly from the silent room. it was dim, you had left some candles lit but that was it. your cheeks were wet and hot. but somehow you still felt an adamant numbing sensation of coldness. your weary bones hugged your knees, sniffles breaking through the silence.

“how long did you think i could’ve held on” you muttered through your broken voice.

“what?” he lifted his head from in between his legs where he had his hands pressed to the back of his neck.

“how long did you think i could’ve held on to you? were you just going to let me destroy myself, give everything i had just for you to crack a smile?” you spoke loudly now, sharp words that stung as spencer heard every one of them.

he didn’t respond. instead, he just listened. he knew the last thing you wanted from him right now was for him tp talk back, so he let you talk.

“fuck, even my friends said it was not right to be scared! not of you, but of how quickly your temperament can change from one moment to another. every breath that i take feels like im stealing it from you, like- like when i do finally get to do so, its short and doesn’t last long until i have to hold my breath again.”

“do you resent me, spencer? is that what this is? you left the BAU after you got back from prison, and i thought it was to settle down, make me your wife. but you never wanted this, did you?” spencers head perked up. his demeaner changed. he went from attentive and remorseful to stern.

“do not say that. “ he pointed a finger at you “y/n y/l/n don’t you, for a second, think i regret any minute i’ve ever spent with you, i regret a lot of things in my life but meeting you, loving you? i’ve never thought twice about that. you are my number one priority in this life, and im sorry i couldn’t give you everything you wanted, at least not right now. but i promise, i swear on my life, if that even means anything, that i’m going to get better. and i know actions speak more than words, but please, please hold on. i’m not going to insist you stay here with me, but just promise you’ll come back when you’re ready? i love you, y/n, and i hate myself for even thinking that i hurt you.” his tone was indulgent, pleading almost. he had stood up and waved his hands frantically as he punctuated each word, meaning every one. his frazzled hair and big brown eyes kept you at bay.

for a few minutes there was silence as you quietly digested his words.

“do you mean that?” you whispered, fragile, as you looked up at him.

he nodded his head, looking away and blinking a few times. trying to hold in the tears that painfully pricked his waterline.

you sighed, attempting to weigh the pro’s and con’s of the situation, but you loved him. a mental list of the good and the bad wasn’t going to decide the fate of your life. in every relationship there’s hell in heaven, eventually, happiness comes back. all you knew was that this man encapsulated your whole being with nothing more than love and affection, so you knew that this was nothing but a small dent in the glass case that encased the rose that was your love.

you opened your arms, he hesitantly got down to your level. you held him tightly, as if the weight of the wind was to carry him away at any moment. he buried his head in qthe crook of your neck, sniffling as he let out soft sobs, and whispers of apologies.

eventually, the tears ceased. and you both laid there, enveloped. consumed by each other, hands caught in spencers hair from raking through it, as sleep caught onto you. spencer kissed the bridge of your nose gently.

“i love you”

“i love you too”

a/n: guys idk how to feel about this one, this might have been my least favorite so far😭

taglist: @ilovesadiesink @sp3ncelle @lvtilzs @bunnylov-3-r @bellasprettywords

*comment to be added*

#spencer reid fluff #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid angst #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds fic #criminal minds

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jinnyeo · 2 days

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不浄な結婚 UNHOLY MATRIMONY

Fem reader x Gojo x Geto x Sukuna x Choso

╰┈➤ They all had always been obsessed with you from the moment they laid their eyes on you.

Masterlist | Wattpad link

CHAPTER ONE

Chapter content: Mild abuse

WC: 4.2k

You were set to marry Naoya Zenin, the very man you despised your entire life. In the quietness of the Zenin household, the air was thick with tension as you sat in your new room, you were adorned in your finest kimono for your marriage.

From a young age, your parents had set to marry Naoya Zenin. He was always there, his presence looming over you like a dark cloud. Even as children he was obsessed with you, a fact that both disgusted and frightened you.

Born into a noble family, you were known as the most beautiful woman in Japan, desired by many. However, Naoya's obsession with you turned your life into a nightmare. He destroyed your reputation, tainted your purity, and ensured that no other man would want you.

You were trapped, with no choice but to marry him.

Now as the day of your wedding approached, the dread that filled your heart was suffocating. The thought of spending your life bound to a man you despised was almost too much to bear. Yet, you knew that this was your fate, chosen for you by your parents, leaving you with a future that seemed bleak and devoid of any happiness.

In a few minutes, you were going to be the wife of Naoya Zenin. Despite your hatred for him, you wanted to fulfil your parents dreams of being allies with the Zenin clan, you just wanted to make your parents happy for the first time. So with a heavy heart, you wiped away your tears with the forever of your kimono before putting down your wedding veil.

The wedding ceremony began, and you walked down the aisle, the red carpets contrasting with your kimono. As you reached the stairs, you took a seat in front of Naoya Zenin, unable to summon the courage to look up at him. The air was heavy with tension as he lifted your veil, revealing your face to him and sealing your fate in a marriage you never wanted.

"You look beautiful as ever Y/N" Naoya's voice cut through the music. His words only served to deepen the resentment and disgust you felt towards him.

Ignoring Naoya's comment, you reached for the cup of tea in front of you and handed it to him. Without a word, you then picked up your own cup and took a sip, the bitterness of the tea matching the bitterness in your heart.

With the tea ceremony complete, you were now officially married to Naoya Zenin and the new lady of the Zenin clan.

Throughout the entire wedding ceremony, you remained seated in your chair, a silent figure of a ruined beauty. You didn't gaze at anyone, nor did you speak a word. Ever since Naoya tainted your reputation, everyone had abandoned you, unwilling to associate with someone they deemed tainted and immoral. Left with no one by your side, you endured the ceremony in silence while watching everyone praise and cheer on your so called husband.

Finally, the ceremony came to an end, and as you stood to leave your mother approached your side. "Remember what I told you Y/N" She whispered, her voice lacking any empathy, it was cold and empty as always.

You turned to look at your mother, her face was stone-cold with no expression. You looked at her with pleading and sorrowful eyes that screamed the words of help, about to open your mouth to say something.

But then Naoya's butler came. "Lord Zenin is waiting for you in the wedding chambers" He said.

Before you left your mother had put her hand on your shoulder. "At least try to please your husband" She said.

Your mother had always been neglectful of you, treating you more like an obligation than a daughter. Her lack of care and concern had been constant in your life, leaving you feeling unloved and unseen.

You were always aware that you were unwanted by both your mother and father. Your mother was the first and legal wife of your father, your mother's repeated attempts to conceive a male heir failed, resulting in you- a mere woman and a burden to your family name. Your mother neglected you, wishing you were a male instead because this failure led your father to take on multiple concubines, distancing himself from your mother and you. Finally your father had succeeded in fathering three sons with his beloved concubine, forgetting about you and your mother. Your father had abandoned you and your mother within the family walls, you guys were nothing but mere ghosts with everyone ignoring the both of you.

The only success you could bring to your family was earning the title of the most beautiful woman and marrying into the Zenin clan. It was the only moment your father acknowledged you, recognizing you for your beauty and the advantage your beauty could take you. You had secured multiple marriage proposals from high ranking noble families. Your father had used your reputation to his advantage, he used you to climb up the ranks, he pretended to love and cherish you in front of others but in reality that was far from the truth because you were still and would always be nothing but a failure in his eyes.

Your father was more than happy to see you bring power to your family name. So, he was more than happy to marry you off to someone with high ranking like Naoya Zenin.

So now here you were, holding back tears as you walked towards the wedding chambers, multiple maids followed behind you. You knew not one of them would ever pledge their loyalty to you because they were the property of Naoya Zenin, they only and will ever follow your husbands orders, never yours.

Once you entered the wedding chambers, the maids immediately began to undress you, carefully removing your wedding kimono and the multiple hair ornaments that were in your hair. They stripped you down to your wedding night attire, all while brushing out your hair.

"Lord Zenin is here!" A voice yelled from outside the room, signaling Naoya's arrival. As you clenched down onto your inner cheek, you watched your maids all walk out, leaving you in the room alone. The sound of the door closing echoed in the silence, and you were left to face Naoya on your own.

You sat on the bed, watching Naoya walk in, a sense of dread settling over you. As he approached, you couldn't help but plead silently for this night to be over quickly.

To your surprise, you watched Naoya kneel down in front of you. He took your hand, kissing it gently. "Your so beautiful Y/N" He said, his actions had caught you off guard as he looked up at you with those slick green eyes you once fell for.

Naoya was a man full of arrogance and power, always ensuring that everyone knew their place beneath him. He was cocky and always abused his powers. He demanded respect and obedience from everyone below him, making sure that everyone kissed his feet to maintain his position of authority.

Yet here he was, Naoya Zenin kneeling in front of you.

"N-Naoya, are you drunk?" You stumbled over your words, unable to process the fact that he was kneeling in front of you. "Get up, you can't be seen like this" His behavior was so out of character that it left you questioning his motives, unsure of what to make of this unexpected gesture.

"Can I not worship my wife?" Naoya replied, his tone soft yet firm. His words caught you off guard.

There was silence in the room for a bit, the weight of Naoya's words hanging in the air between you.

"Can we just... get this night over and done with Naoya" You said, unable to meet his gaze.

"Why do you always think of me negatively Y/N?" Naoya said, his voice carrying a hint of sadness. Despite this, you ignored it, convinced that it was just another one of his manipulative games.

"How could you ask me something like that?" You snapped back, your brows furrowed in anger. The audacity of his question, the way he seemed to expect you to overlook all the pain and suffering he had caused you, infuriated you.

"All I've ever done was love you Y/N" He sighed, resting his head on your lap. You felt a mix of emotions, anger, frustration, and perhaps a hint of pity.

"You don't even know what love is" You replied, the words coming out sharper than intended.

"I've done everything for you Y/N" He said. "I bought you everything, the most expensive jewels, kimonos, and ornaments. I even built your own private estate here. But you still won't return my feelings and see me as your husband." His words were filled with frustration and hurt.

It was true that Naoya loved you. Throughout the years, he had stayed by your side, his love suffocating. However, what he didn't know was that you were disgusted by his love. His perception of love was different from yours. Naoya was obsessive, going to great lengths to ensure you would always be his, but in a way that felt like you were his hostage rather than loving.

He would send people to follow you, watch you, and report back to him. Naoya's obsession with you was evident even from a young age. When he found out he was betrothed to you at the mere age of 11, he spent seven years building your own private estate within the Zenin walls, all to your liking.

Naoya's obsession with you reached such heights that when you came of age and garnered the attention of many suitors, he grew incredibly jealous. To ensure that no one else could have you, he began spreading rumors that you had lost your virginity to him. These rumors tainted your reputation, causing men to stop courting you, believing you to be impure and immoral.

Left with no other options, you were forced into a marriage with Naoya, trapped with a man you despised.

"Please Y/N" Naoya begged, desperation evident in his voice. "Why can't you love me back?" His words were filled with a longing for something that seemed unattainable, a plea for a love that you could never return to him.

"You are a man who doesn't know what love is Naoya" You suddenly said, your voice firm. "You are not capable of loving me, you're just infatuated with the thought of me. You don't love me" Words began spilling out of you. Naoya's love was not true, it was a twisted obsession that left you feeling trapped and suffocated.

"No..." Naoya stood up, his expression desperate. "Is it the concubines I have? I'll get rid of them all for you" His offer was sincere, a last-ditch effort to win your affection. But you knew that even without the concubines, his love would remain the same. Selfish and possessive.

"You can take on as many concubines as you can, you can sleep with them as much as you want Naoya. But at the end of the day, no matter what good or bad thing you do towards me, my feelings for you will always stay the same. I can't love you Naoya, I can never love a man who ruined my life, I can't give you the love you want so please just give up on me!" You finally snapped, standing up to face him as he hovered above you. "We both know that this is just a political marriage Naoya, please don't bring love and feelings into this. I can't be a wife who loves you, but I can be a wife who can bear you a son, and that's all I can do for you"

Naoya's expression was a mix of shock and hurt, his eyes searching yours for any hint of a lie. But you stood your ground, your words final and resolute. The truth was painful, but it needed to be said.

"You...you" Naoya muttered, he then looked down at you with a dark and intense look in his eyes. It was almost like you flipped a switched in him and it terrified you.

Suddenly you felt his strong grip on your neck, you gasped in shock as Naoya's grip tightened around your neck, you struggled to breathe, fear and shock coursing through you. His eyes, once filled with adoration now bore into you with a cold and menacing glare. You tried to pry his hand away, but his strength was overpowering.

"Naoya....please!" You managed to gasp, your voice strained. But he remained silent, his expression unreadable as he continued to tighten his grip. Panic surged within you as you realized the gravity of the situation. This man, whom you were bound to by marriage, now held your life in his hands.

Just as you felt yourself starting to lose consciousness, Naoya suddenly released his grip, stepping back and letting you fall to the floor gasping for air. He stood over you with his chest heaving, a mix of anger and hurt evident in his eyes.

"You will love me sooner or later Y/N" Naoya said, he looked down at you with those dark and intense eyes. His words sent a shiver down your spine, his tone menacing and full of intent.

With that, Naoya turned and left the room, leaving you alone with your thoughts. As you lay on the ground you gulped, trying to catch your breath, your hand instinctively reaching for the spot on your neck where Naoya had choked you. Tears welled up in your eyes. No matter how hard you tried, you could never escape Naoya's obsessive grip.

You had spent your wedding night all alone on the floor. The night passed in a blur of tears and despair as you lay curled up on the ground.

As the morning light shone through the windows of your chambers, you sat in front of the mirror, your reflection stared back at you with that same sorrowful and dull face full of nothing but sadness. Your maids busied themselves around you, dressing you in a delicate floral kimono and adorning your hair with luxurious ornaments. They tried to conceal the redness and puffiness of your eyes with powder.

"Get the carriage ready" You suddenly said, ignoring your maids surprised looks, you got up from the chair and walked towards the door.

Two maids ended up accompanying you from behind. As you were about to reach the carriage, your eyes were drawn to a scene that froze you in place. There, hand in hand with another woman, was Naoya Zenin.

You brushed off the sight of Naoya Zenin with another woman. You reasoned that she might be one of his concubines, dressed in luxurious kimono befitting her status.

"Lady Zenin, please do not worry" A maid spoke up from behind you, her voice soft and comforting. "You are the lady of the house, she is just a mere concubine"

You turned around and were met with a young girl who couldn't have been older than 16. She stood before you, petite and fragile. "What's your name?" You asked.

"H-Hana" She stumbled over her words, clearly nervous in your presence. "I've been assigned to serve only you my lady"

You silently stared at Hana, her words echoing in your mind. Despite her seemingly innocent demeanor, you couldn't shake the feeling of distrust that lingered within you. Was she truly here to serve you, or was she merely a pawn in Naoya's game? The thought gnawed at you, leaving you wary of the young girl standing before you.

You took a deep breath, continuing to walk to the front gate. Yet the heavens seemed to be against you as you would have to walk past Naoya first. With a stoic demeanour, you walked past Naoya, ignoring him as best as you could. Just as you thought you had successfully avoided him, he called out your name.

"Y/N" His voice cut through the air, stopping you in your tracks. Despite your reluctance, you turned to face him.

You sighed. Stopping in your tracks, you turned around to meet Naoya's gaze, only also feel the intense lingering stare of the other woman wrapped in his arms.

"My lord" You said, bowing to Naoya.

"Where are you going?" Naoya's voice cut through the air, his tone unreadable.

"To the city centre" You replied, keeping your tone neutral. Avoiding Naoya's gaze, you hoped to end the conversation quickly and continue on your way.

"Oh, do you mind if Emi and I accompany you?" Naoya's voice dripped with mockery, and you could hear the chuckles of the woman beside him.

With a forced smile, you agreed to Naoya's request, though every fiber of your being resisted. "The more the merrier" You said, masking your true feelings.

"Great, I'll get my driver" Naoya said, releasing the woman beside him and then tightly grabbing your hand. You flinched at his touch, a shiver of discomfort running down your spine.

The whole ride was full of tension. You sat bundled up in the corner, the distant laughter of the woman who had snuggled up in between Naoya's arms echoing in your ears.

Finally, the carriage arrived at the city center. Naoya was the first to step out, and he reached his hand out to help you. However, you ignored his hand and stepped out of the carriage on your own. After you, Emi got out and ran to Naoya's side, seeking his attention once again.

"A wife who does not want to accompany her husband?" Naoya's voice was laced with amusement as he snickered. His words were like a knife, cutting through the already strained atmosphere between you.

"You have enough company by your side" You said, your tone calm but firm. You ignored Emi's gaze, refusing to be drawn into any drama within the walls. All you wanted was to fade into the background, to live your marriage in peace without the burden of Naoya's relationships weighing you down.

"And here I thought you would succumb to jealousy Naoya remarked, his tone mocking.

"Naoya, I'm here to buy gifts not to chatter with you" You sighed, trying to keep the conversation as brief as possible. The less interaction you had with Naoya, the better.

"Gifts? For whom?" Naoya raised an eyebrow, his interest piqued at the thought of you knowing anyone else apart from him.

"My father" You replied curtly.

"Your father? He already has the power he wants after you married me, what else could he possibly need?" Naoya replied. "Hm, I guess instead of a gift for your father, we should buy you jewels"

"Naoya... I already have so much" You sighed.

"No, my wife will only have the most expensive and fine jewels. It's never enough" Naoya insisted, his tone firm.

So, here you were, walking behind Naoya and Emi as they led you to reknown jewellery shop in the heart of Tokyo.

You felt out of place in the jewelry shop, surrounded by married couples in love while you stood there looking like a mere maid, awkwardly holding your own hand as Naoya and Emi held hands like teenagers in love.

"What would you like to get for your wife?" The shopkeeper said, completely ignoring you and looking towards Emi, assuming she was the wife. You felt invisible, a mere bystander in your own life.

Naoya suddenly took your hand by surprise, pushing Emi away to the side. "You remember the woman I bought all those jewels for last week?" He asked, looking at you with what seemed like love. But you ignored him, maintaining your stone gaze.

"Oh, God, I'm so sorry, Lord Zenin. I thought that other lady was the new Lady of the Zenin House" Fhe shopkeeper apologized, realizing his mistake.

"Give me the most expensive necklace that would suit my Y/N. I only want my wife to wear the most lavish ones" Naoya instructed, his tone commanding.

Naoya let you go, turning his attention to the multiple pieces the shopkeeper showed him. Meanwhile, you gazed out, losing concentration, lost in your thoughts and emotions, feeling trapped in a life you never wanted.

You wished someone, anyone, could save you from this life, from the suffocating marriage and the emptiness that consumed you. But you knew deep down that there was no one coming to rescue you right?

You were gazing out, lost in your thoughts, when your attention snapped back at the sound of an unfamiliar voice from behind you. "Bring out Yuji" The voice said to the clerk.

You didn't know what came over you, but you suddenly turned your head to the side and were met with the sight of icy blue eyes and white hair.

His presence was like a beacon in the room, drawing everyone's attention. Dressed in the attire of a high-ranking noble, his aura screamed power and authority. His unique features, with his striking face and ethereal appearance, made him stand out as if he were an angel among mortals.

His gaze met yours, and for a moment, the world around you seemed to disappear. It was just the two of you, locked in a moment that felt suspended in time. You could see the curiosity in his eyes, the flicker of interest, but also something else, something you couldn't quite place.

As you felt someone touch your arm, your attention snapped back to Naoya. You turned to look at him, momentarily forgetting the presence of the man. Naoya's expression was unreadable, his eyes searching yours as if trying to decipher your thoughts.

"I called you 3 times Y/N" Naoya said.

"Forgive me, I must have been lost in thought" You replied, meeting Naoya's gaze with a forced smile.

"Isn't this necklace beautiful Y/N?" Naoya said, showing you the lavish necklace adorned with sapphire, shaped like a butterfly.

"Yes" You replied absentmindedly, your thoughts still lingering about the mystery man.

"Zenin" The familiar voice said from behind you. You could feel his presence strongly, close behind you. Inching your head slightly back, you looked up at him, your eyes immediately locking as you felt your heart flutter.

"Your... majesty..." Naoya gritted his teeth as he bowed to the male. You also stopped in your tracks and immediately turned towards the male bowing to him, not realizing the man behind you was possibly the emperor.

"What are you doing outside the palace... are you not afraid someone would try to assassinate you again?" Hatred was evident in Naoya's tone.

"Enough questions, Naoya. I'm glad I met you here" The man said, his eyes lingering on you as you gulped by his intense eyes. "So, this is the infamous Y/N Zenin?" His eyes never leaving your body.

"What do you want Gojo?" Naoya finally snapped, grabbing your arm and forcing you against his chest as you gasped.

"Wow, already dropping the honorifics?" The male laughed amusingly.

"Cut the bullshit Gojo. You never talk to me unless you want something," Naoya retorted, his grip tightening on you possessively.

"What? Are you afraid that I would take your beautiful wife?" He laughed. "You're not entirely wrong Naoya" He said with a smirk.

"Y-you" Naoya snapped, about to take out his katana, but Emi stopped him by throwing herself on him, hugging his chest tightly.

"Naoya don't! Not here" Emi screamed, gathering more attention as they all watched the scene unfold between the emperor and Zenin head.

"Naoya Zenin, you really are a shameless man" He mocked. "Naoya Zenin, you're a despicable man. I heard rumors that you managed to marry the beautiful yet immoral daughter of the L/N family. But here you are, taking advantage of your wife's love and taking in concubines" He said.

Naoya's eyes flashed with anger. "You bastard, how dare you speak like that in front of my wife" He spat out.

You felt cold hands cup your chin, gently lifting your face to meet his icy blue eyes. Your heart skipped a beat as your faces were mere inches apart.

"It's a shame to see you lose your purity over a man like Naoya" He said, his voice almost a whisper, sending chills down your spine. "You should have picked an emperor over a lord" He added, his tone cutting through the air like a blade as whispers began erupting in the store.

@jinnyeo

I’ll be publishing chapters rlly slow on tumblr, but wattpad is where I publish on.

#jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #jujutsu kaisen smut #gojo smut #satoru gojo #toji fushiguro #toji smut #choso smut #choso x reader #geto fanfic #jjk choso #gojo x reader #gojo fanfic #geto smut #geto x reader #sukuna smut #sukuna x reader #sukuna

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sluttywonwoo · 6 hours

Text

fuck the neighbors

pairing: jeon wonwoo x f reader

summary: curiosity killed the cat but satisfaction brought it back- at least, that's what they say.

warnings: swearing, blood, asshole!wonwoo, mingyu is canonically a whore, light blasphemy, smut (18+ ; mdni)

smut warnings: hard dom!wonwoo, allusions to voyeurism, degradation, oral (f receiving), blood play?!?!? (just a little bit!!!), wap!reader, massive cock!wonwoo, choking, protected sex

word count: 3.3k

reader notes: reader is significantly shorter than ww + described to have long-ish hair

You’ve never felt as small as you do right now. Wonwoo looms over you, smirking. He isn’t even that much taller than you, you just seem to shrink into yourself when you’re around him, which seems to be happening more and more often lately.

“Found you,” he whispers.

“I... wasn’t hiding,” you say, your voice coming out in a squeak.

“You know it isn’t nice to lie,” he chides, taking a step closer to you. You take a step backward in kind, only to be met with the cool concrete wall against your back. “It also isn’t nice to eavesdrop.”

“I didn’t- I wasn’t trying to,” you insist.

Wonwoo tsks. “I don’t believe you. What did I just say about lying?”

“Well, it isn’t nice to be super loud all the time either!” you scoff. “You have neighbors, you know.”

The overhead light flickers. You and Wonwoo both stare at it, the inconsistent hum of electricity filling the silence before the light eventually decides to stay lit. You breathe a sigh of relief. You really needed to stop overlooking sketchy apartments for the sake of the rent, especially if you were going to have to deal with people like... him.

Wonwoo cocks his head to the side. “What are you talking about?”

“What do you mean what am I talking about? Listen, I don’t care who you fuck but if you could be just a little quieter-”

Wonwoo cuts you off with a laugh. “That’s what this is about? That’s why you were snooping outside my apartment? What, were you hoping to catch a glimpse of her leaving or something?”

So you had been right... you’re not sure whether or not you’re happy about that. What you are sure of, though, is that you’re offended that you’re being accused of snooping. You open your mouth to defend yourself but stop short.

“You’re bleeding,” is what you say instead.

Wonwoo touches his lip, thumb brushing across the cut he must not have noticed until you mentioned it. He looks down at his fingers briefly then back up at you.

“Come with me.”

“Wha- huh?”

“You want to know what’s so loud, right? So come on.”

You follow him blindly back down the hall to his apartment, the one right next to yours. You’re doing everything a final girl in a horror movie shouldn’t do, but you’re dying to know what’s been keeping you up at night.

Wonwoo unlocks the door and stands aside to let you in first. With a gulp, you cross the threshold and slip off your shoes. He does the same.

The apartment is quiet, for once. It looks a lot like yours but mirrored. The kitchen is off to the right instead of the left. The half bathroom is on the wall opposite to yours, likely connected via plumbing.

The place is a lot cleaner than you expected too. It’s sparse, typical for a single guy, but still relatively well decorated.

Wonwoo heads straight to the kitchen and turns on the sink. He wets a paper towel and dabs at his bottom lip, wincing as he cleans the wound.

“Why am I here?” you ask when he doesn’t offer an explanation.

He doesn’t answer right away. Granted, the man was still bleeding but he’d dragged you here for a reason and now you were just standing in his kitchen.

Eventually, he disposes of the paper towel, washes his hands, and walks across the living room without saying a word. You know he expects you to follow him but you almost don’t want to. You do follow him, you want to leave as fast as possible, but you consider it.

He opens the door to what you know is a bedroom and points inside. You stare at him blankly.

“What am I looking at?”

“This isn’t my room,” he says.

“What?”

“It’s my roommate’s.”

“You have a roommate?”

“I do. I have a roommate. He’s the one you share a wall with. He’s the one banging a different girl every night. Your issues are with him, not me.”

Now that you were thinking about it, you have seen a slightly taller, beefier man around the building. That must be who Wonwoo’s roommate is. He definitely had the face to pull all the girls Wonwoo was referring to. Not that Wonwoo didn’t-

“So take it up with him.”

You shake your head and purse your lips. “No, that doesn’t explain everything. I’ve heard your voice too. Unless you’re the one he’s banging...” you trail off, letting the implication hang in the air.

“He’s not my type,” Wonwoo says flatly.

“Okay, then what is it?”

“C’mere,” he says, moving along the wall to what you use as a breakfast nook in your apartment.

In his, the space is empty save for a punching bag hanging from the ceiling.

“You box?”

“It’s a hobby.”

“Is that why you were bleeding?”

“Yeah, I just got back from the gym.”

“And that’s what I’ve been hearing?”

“That’s what you’ve been hearing.”

You nod but don’t say anything else, half waiting for an apology that he doesn’t offer. He just leans against the wall with his arms crossed.

“Well, do you think you could practice your hobby before midnight? Or at least try to keep it down when you do?” you huff in annoyance.

He sighs like what you’re asking is the biggest inconvenience he’s ever been posed with but concedes.

“I guess.”

“Thank you.”

“You’ll have to talk to Mingyu about his... hobby, though. Or get noise canceling headphones. That’s what I did.”

“Oh, okay.”

Silence stretches between you again, heightening the tension in the room. You don’t know what to do. Were you supposed to show yourself out now that you had your answers? Wonwoo isn’t giving you any indication that he wants you to leave but he isn't giving any indication that he wants you to stay either.

You don’t have the time or energy to deal with this. You can’t read the man’s mind. No matter how hard he stares at you from across a room. With a definitive breath, you turn on your heel to head for the door just to be stopped by Wonwoo’s voice echoing behind you.

“Are you disappointed?”

You stop but don’t turn around. “What?”

“Are you disappointed that it isn’t me you’ve been hearing?” he clarifies.

Heat rises to your cheeks. “Wh-what do you mean? Why would I be?”

You feel him approach from behind, his shadow closing in on you before he does.

“Because it isn’t my voice you’ve been touching yourself to.”

“What?!” You do turn around this time, whipping around so fast your ponytail almost whacks Wonwoo in the face.

“You don’t think I haven’t noticed the way you look at me when I pass you in the hallway?”

You scoff, breathing a subtle sigh of relief. All he had to go off of was a look but if he had heard you through the wall, if he had that irrefutable evidence, it would definitely be over for you. “If that’s what you think lust looks like, I feel bad for all the girls you have slept with.”

“Resentment and lust have a very long history together,” he whispers.

“You think pretty highly of yourself, don’t you?”

“But I’m right, aren’t I?”

You feign ignorance. “About what?”

“About you.” He measures you up with his gaze, something triumphant flashing behind his eyes. “Tell me I’m wrong,” he presses. “Tell me you’ve never gotten off to the thought of me and I’ll drop it.”

You weigh your options. You could lie. You could save yourself the embarrassment and lie right to his face, although given your track record thus far he’d see right through it. Or, you could tell him the truth. You could admit to wishing you were the one in what you thought had been his bed all this time.

You settle on silence and let him draw his own conclusion. A smirk tugs at one side of Wonwoo’s mouth. So he did think highly of himself.

“I fucking knew it,” he murmurs.

Before you can deny it, he straightens back up and starts walking toward the back of the apartment.

“I’m going to take a shower,” he announces.

You don’t move from where you’re standing, unsure of what he wants you to do. Was he hinting at you to leave? Was it an invitation?

Wonwoo looks back over his shoulder at you. “Are you coming?”

“Hopefully,” you mutter.

“Hm?”

“Yeah, I’m coming.”

The water is already running by the time you slip into the bathroom after Wonwoo. You watch quietly as he undresses, letting the door click shut gently behind you. It occurs to you that you should be taking your clothes off too but you can’t look away.

Wonwoo’s kind enough to snap you out of it. “I didn’t ask you in here just to watch me.”

“You didn’t ask me in here at all,” you point out, “you just expected me to follow you.”

“And you did.”

Damn, he had you there.

With a noise of indignation, you pop the button on your jeans and start to wiggle out of them, unable to bring yourself to look at him again now that you’re also exposed. You can feel his eyes on you, though. It has the same effect his presence always has on you, and you attempt to cover yourself with your hands.

“Shy?” he muses. “Cute.”

“Shut up,” you sputter.

You don’t think you’ve felt this self conscious since college and then he laughs at your response which does nothing to help.

“I can’t call you cute?”

“Not if you’re patronizing me.”

“How do you want me to say it, then?” he asks, sinking down to his knees on the floor in front of you. You stare at him in disbelief. “You want me to say it like this? Want me to tell you how cute, how pretty, I think you are, from down here? How pretty I think this pussy is?” Wonwoo leans forward as he talks, further and further until his hair is tickling your tummy and his lips are moving against your skin. “Spread your legs for me, baby,” he murmurs.

You do, taking hold of the countertop so that you won’t fall as Wonwoo slots himself between your thighs. You take a deep breath to brace yourself for the feeling of his mouth but absolutely nothing could have prepared you for the way he presses a gentle kiss to your pussy before diving in. The softness of the action compared to everything that led up to this moment, compared to the way he was now drowning himself in you, is enough to make your knees threaten to give. Your grip on the counter tightens and you bite down hard on your bottom lip to keep from moaning out loud. You don’t want to give him the satisfaction, though you’re sure he already knows he’s got you right where he wants you.

Wonwoo hitches one of your knees over his shoulder so that he can get even deeper inside of you with his tongue. He drinks you in, breathes you in, douses himself in you like he’s trying to baptize himself in order to atone for his sins.

If this was his apology for all the noise, he’s forgiven ten times over.

You can feel callouses on the palms of his hands as he traces them up your legs and over your ass, pulling you even further into him. The force of his grip causes you to stumble but he catches you before you can fall and helps you to regain your balance.

“I’ve got you,” he assures you, backing you up into the sink. “Here, hop up on the counter.”

“What about the shower?” you ask, suddenly remembering that the water had been running this whole time.

“Oh shit-”

Wonwoo turns around and reaches to turn it off, drying both his hand and his face with a towel that had been hanging on the wall.

“Now, hop up on the counter.”

“Are you sure?” you ask, glancing at all of the skin and hair care products scattered across it.

Wonwoo pushes them out of the way then nods.

“I’m sure. Mingyu won’t care, trust me. He’d be a hypocrite to.”

You sigh but hoist yourself onto the counter anyway, too horny to worry about it any longer. Wonwoo steps in between your legs and lets you wrap them around his waist. He leans down, you think he’s going to kiss you, but he goes for your neck and kisses you there instead.

“Why are you pouting?” he asks, voice muffled and vibrating against your throat.

“Want you to fuck me,” you lie.

It’s not a complete lie, you do want him to fuck you, but it certainly isn’t the full truth either. You’re afraid that if you’re honest with Wonwoo about wanting him to kiss you it’ll turn him off. He’s not about to make love to you, that much is clear, so was kissing off the table? Was that too intimate for a hookup like this? Would he think you wanted something more if you asked?

“I was getting to that,” he insists lowly. “So impatient.”

“You’re the one who ate me out as soon as you got me alone. You haven’t even kissed me yet.”

There. Maybe if you challenged him he’d give you what you wanted.

“Oh, you want me to kiss you, huh?”

He wraps a hand around your neck and pulls you in, finally pressing his lips to yours. Men were so easy.

He tastes like you imbued with unfamiliarity. Blood, you realize when you pull back and see the cut on his lip had reopened. It isn’t much, just enough to make him look vaguely vampiric. You swipe your thumb across his bottom lip and push it into his mouth for him to suck on.

He does, but he has the audacity to pretend not to like it.

“You’re sick,” Wonwoo scoffs.

“And you’re still hard.”

“Two things can be true at the same time.”

He kisses you again before you can get another word in, dropping his free hand between your legs to ensure you're truly unable to talk back.

He uses his fingers to tease you for a moment or two and then he teases you with the head of his cock, pressing it right up against you and making you whimper into his mouth.

“Tell me, what have you been thinking about all these months,” he murmurs, “when you’re in your bed all alone listening through the wall?”

“I- it’s embarrassing...” you protest.

Wonwoo draws back, tonguing his cheek as he gazes down at you. “Tell me or we’re done here.”

You’re not sure whether or not he’ll make good on his threat but you don’t want to call his bluff and risk blowing your chance to actually live out the fantasies you were too embarrassed to share.

“I thought about... this,” you say hesitantly.

“This? You thought about me fucking you here?”

“No...”

“You’re going to have to be more specific then, angel.”

“It was, um, in your bed.”

“You mean Mingyu’s bed.”

“I didn’t know that at the time,” you whine.

He smiles. “I know. You know, if you had just paid a little closer attention you would have realized he sounds nothing like me.”

“I was a little distracted at the time,” you whisper.

“Yeah? Distracted pretending it was you in those girls’ positions?”

You nod reluctantly.

“Poor baby,” he pouts, “must’ve been so jealous but so wet you just had to touch yourself, huh?”

You hate that he’s right. You hate that the condescension turns you on even more.

While he’s talking, Wonwoo snakes an arm behind you and grabs a condom from a jar on the counter. Did he and Mingyu just keep them out for guests like they were cotton swabs or something? Did they get laid that often?

He tears the foil packet open with his teeth and rolls the condom on as you watch and unconsciously spread your legs even wider for him.

“Ready?” he asks, holding your face with both hands.

It’s probably the first earnest interaction you’ve had with him. His eyes search yours for any sign of hesitation and even when he finds none, he waits for you to answer.

“Go ahead.”

You keep your eyes trained on his face as he guides himself inside of you, watching the way his eyelashes flutter and his breath hitches when he feels the heat of you around him. He pushes himself in slowly but the stretch still knocks the wind out of you, leaving you gasping for air.

“Breathe, baby, breathe. You’re okay.”

You can hardly hear him over the roaring in your ears but you do your best to listen, chest heaving as you desperately try to anchor yourself to him.

Wonwoo doesn’t move until you urge him to by wrapping your legs around his waist and squeezing his hips with your thighs. It isn’t easy at first, despite how wet you are for him. He’s that huge.

You almost wish he wasn’t just because you don’t think it’s fair for any man’s ego to be warranted, especially one as big as his. Though you suppose it’s fitting.

After a few rough strokes, he starts to play with your clit again to get you to relax a little. It works, your eyes roll and your head falls back against the mirror as the tension eases from your muscles.

“Does it feel as good as you thought it would?” he presses.

“B-better,” you admit.

“That’s because it wasn’t me you were hearing.”

You groan, annoyed that he still hasn’t let it go. You doubt he ever will.

“It’s okay. I’ve thought about this too,” he confesses.

“You have?”

“Have you seen yourself?” he scoffs, “Don’t sound so surprised. I’d s-see you in the hallways, see the way you’d glare at me- fuck... who knew all this time you were right next door fantasizing about me while I fantasized about you. We could’ve been doing this so much sooner.”

You want to tell him that you have all the time in the world to make up for it now but you can’t find the words. They’ve dissolved on your tongue and left you with only his name to repeat over and over like you’re in a trance.

“Louder,” he pleads as fucks you even faster.

“But our neighbors-”

“Fuck them,” he spits. “They already hate us because of Mingyu, let them know my name too.”

Apparently you aren’t the only jealous one between the two of you. You want to laugh but you physically can’t, too caught up in the incandescent feeling in your stomach that threatens to engulf you entirely.

“Fuck, are you about to cum?” Wonwoo gasps, lips parting in concentration.

You nod. “Just a little more,” you beg, “yeah, exactly like that... oh fuck-”

“I’ve got you,” he assures you. “Let go, I’m right there with you.”

It’s surprisingly sweet of him and you think he might realize it too because he grabs your jaw and pulls you in to kiss you as you fall apart together so that he can’t say anything else.

Once you come down, he’s the first to start putting you both back together.

“Wanna actually take a shower now?” he asks, holding out a hand to help you down from the counter.

Your knees wobble on your landing but Wonwoo’s quick to wrap an arm around your shoulders wounded-soldier style and sit you on the closed lid of the toilet.

“Take your time,” he tells you, kneeling on the tile in front of you.

“Thank you.”

“Do you want to stay the night? I mean you can hardly walk. There’s no way you’ll make it all the way home.”

You raise an eyebrow at him. “All the way next door?”

“Exactly! It’s better not to risk it, right?”

You chuckle. “I guess.”

Wonwoo grins. “Don’t worry, I’ll take you home myself in the morning. I’m a gentleman, after all. And then we can piss off your neighbors.”

lmk what you think i always appreciate feedback!!

#fuck the neighbors #seventeen smut #svt smut #wonwoo smut #seventeen x reader #seventeen x female reader #wonwoo x reader #wonwoo x female reader #jeon wonwoo smut #svt x reader #jeon wonwoo x reader #flashing tw

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wh1msic4alwasab1 · 1 day

Text

"𝐃𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐲𝐬 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐮𝐦?"

synopsis: it's finals week and you just need some quiet to work, but your roommate can't do even that for you. Somehow still managing to fuck you senseless after a heated argument.

tags: college au, rough, messy, vulgar, explicit, humiliation, creampie.

wrd cnt: 2.3k

a/n: repost/rewrite from first acc!

You were in your room trying your hardest to study, but that was constantly interrupted by the loud noise coming from the stereo. Angrily, you had about enough of that shit and walked out of your bedroom into the one Geto was in, your brows already furrowed in annoyance with him, who was in his room; feet kicked up onto his desk and a pencil twirling in his hands as the music shook the walls, now staring at you with a grin on his face.

"You look like a mess. What's wrong sweetheart, did I disturb your nap?" He could already see the lack of amusement appearing on your face after he called you that name.

Without a word, you walk up to his desk and turn off the device, folding your hands in front of your chest in response of his inconsiderate behavior.

Geto watched as you angrily stood infront of him, his laughter subsiding slightly "Oh, the music? Could have just said that y’know."

You roll your eyes and try to walk back to your room. "Do you listen to anything I say?"

Geto quickly got up from the desk chair and grabbed your arm before you could make it out the door, pulling you back into his room "You know, it's not very nice to walk away from a conversation."

"Oh is that what this is? I think it's over now."

"Oh cmon' y/n, If i'm waking you up from your beauty sleep just tell me next time."

Scoffing, you reply, "Geto...l have a test tomorrow, can you just be quiet?"

He was looking right at you but his gaze trailed over your outfit, a small smirk appearing on his face when he noticed how tight your t-shirt was, and in all the right places. How his chilly room seemed to have perked up your nipples, visible now through the fabric. How the length of it covered your little shorts so it looked like you weren't even wearing any, feeding into his imagination of what it'd look like if you weren't wearing anything at all. Were you eventually wearing bra!?

"Mmhm...right! Calculus yeah me too..." He said mumbling.

"You didn't hear a damn work I said huh."

"You're cute when you're pouty," he teased, letting go of your arm to lean onto his desk.

"Seriously? God..you piss me off sometimes you know that."

His tone shifted slightly, less flirtatious and much more direct in his retaliation.

"You don't seem to care at all about anything, the least you could do is be considerate and not make so much noise."

"Oh, sweetheart," Geto said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Im inconsiderate? I'm not the one inviting my fuck buddies over or your obnoxious friends. I'm just trying to enjoy my music."

Almost baffled, you take a step back and feel your body slightly hit the door.

"Look- whoever I chose to sleep with and bring to my room is my business..why do you care?"

"Because it's annoying," Geto replied simply, crossing his arms over his chest. "And besides, if you're not careful, everyone on campus might hear about how loud you can be in bed."

You feel your face heat up like lava.

"What- what are you talking about..."

Geto said with a laugh. "You know exactly what I'm talking about. You moan so loud, it's like you're screaming for attention. Might as well be screaming my name instead of those other boring guys you lead on to make me jealous."

"I-I'm not doing anything that concerns you..."

"Is that so?" Geto raised an eyebrow.

"Then why do you always dress like this when I'm here, hmm? It's like you're begging for me." His smirk grew wider as he watched the mixture of anger and embarrassment flash across your visage.

You feel your face contort in a manner of rage. "You know what...l'm getting tired of your shit." You yell a little louder this time, attempting to leave the situation, but Geto just won't let you.

"Oh, so you do care what I think," Geto asked, his hand now grabbing your forearm as he's cornered you in his room. His big hands almost engulf yours on the cold silver metal.

"You just can't seem to escape me, can you?" He chuckled darkly, knowing that he found a way to push your buttons once again.

"I could care less what you think about me."

Oh, really?" Geto smirked. "Well, it seems like you care enough about my opinion to try and change it.

He stepped closer, his gaze burning into yours. "You might as well get used to me."

You breathe heavier at your close proximity "What about you huh? All you seem to do is...right! nothing."

"You really think that's all I do?" Geto asked sarcastically. "You have no idea how many nights l've spent alone wishing for your attention." He leaned in closer, his face inches from yours.

"Why? So you can piss me off some more"

"Because I can't seem to get enough of you." Geto whispered, his breath tickling your earlobe. "And, it's always been fun to see you so cute and mad."

You close your eyes shut slowly as you feel his breathe tickle your skin.

"You know, you look really good tonight," Geto murmured, his hand lightly resting on your hip, his other still holding your wrist tight on the knob. His lips brushed against your skin, sending shivers down your spine.

"Geto...stop.." You say breathlessly.

"Why?" He asked innocently, his fingers tracing circles on your skin. "Don't you like my attention?"

You lay your head against the door as you feel both his hands grab your sides. His warm breath tantalized your neck.

"You know," he whispered, "I could make you feel so good if you wanted me to." His fingers dug into your sides slightly, leaving red marks on your skin. "But then again..."

"then again what..?"

"You hate me, right? So I guess you wouldn't want that at all," Geto whispered, his fingers tracing slow circles over your skin.

"You don't know what I think of you." You confess.

His eyes narrowed, and he leaned in closer, his breath hot against your ear. "Oh, really?" He whispered, his voice low and menacing. "What do you think of me then? Y/n?"

"don't- what are you doing..."

Before you could speak, he moved away from your neck and brushed the hair from your cheek, leaning in and kissing you, his lips firm against yours.

You melt into his affection while your hands land on his chest, his entire body almost pressing against yours.

Feeling your soft moans against him, Geto took advantage of the situation, deepening the kiss, his tongue pushing past your lips and exploring your mouth. His hands moved down to your hips, pulling you closer to him.

"Geto- we should stop..." You say, almost like you're trying to convince yourself more than him.

Why?" Geto asked, his voice rough with desire.

"Because we shouldn't be doing this.”

“Or is it because you want more?" He grabbed onto both of your sides, sandwiching you between him and the door.

"It makes everything too complicated..."

Geto leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear. "Things between us are already complicated.," he whispered. "Maybe this is just what we need to make things simpler." His hands slid up your sides, a swift motion as he picks you up with your back still pressed up.

"I can't believe I'm letting you do this..."

Geto smiled against your neck, the corners of his lips curling upwards. He whispered, his cock pressing against your crotch,

"Do your other fucktoys even make you cum?"

You moan at his kisses in your neck, avoidant to answering his embarrassing question.

"Suguru..."

Geto groaned as he heard your sweet voice. He slid his hands into the side of your shorts, playing with the band of your panties.

"Tell me you want it," he growled, his voice low and husky. "Tell me you want me to fuck you senseless."

"Geto...please-"

"Please what? make you cum?" He smirked, his hand moving to your crotch, feeling your arousal through your clothes. "maybe I should just stop and let you jerk off in your room thinkin' about me?"

"...you're such an asshole...you know what I want..."

“You’re exactly right," Geto purred, his fingers still teasing at the hem of the silky fabric. "And believe me, I'm going to enjoy giving it to you... even if it means being the asshole you so desperately crave."

You scoff at his response and roll your eyes.

"What? Not happy with my honesty?" Geto asked, feigning innocence. "Or perhaps you're just tired of me being the only one who dares to treat you like this?" He leaned in closer, his lips almost touching yours.”

"Just shut up and fuck me."

Geto chuckled darkly at your words.

"So impatient," he murmured, his hand slipping under your shirt to grope at your nipples. "But since you asked so nicely..." He stepped back, releasing you to pull off his shirt and tossing it aside.

You lean back against the wall and watch the show.

Geto's muscles were well defined, enticing you to roll your hands up and chest and feel every groove on him.

As he approached you again, his erection was clearly visible now.

"Now," Geto's smirk grew wider. "My impatient little thing, you ready?" He asked with a chuckle.

Stepping back to you, he turned you around so your face hit the cold surface. His hips lined behind your frame as he grabbed your wrists behind your back. You couldn't help but grind your ass into him, feeling his hard cock through his underwear.

"You're such a tease, you know that?" He whispers into your ear from behind you.

You do nothing but greet him with a sultry laugh, dripping with anticipation.

A mischievous smirk appears on Geto's face as he leans in, his mouth brushing against your neck.

He grips your hair, pulling your head back to expose your neck, and kisses it gently. "Spread your fucking legs." His voice gets more demanding.

"Sugu..."

"Y/n..." He repeats your name back to you, his voice filled with amusement. He slaps his cock against your ass, squeezing and slapping it too, hearing you whimper at his stringing touch.

"You like that? Make all those sounds I hear through your wall. This time you won't have to fake em. " Slipping your panties down to your ankles and staring at your now exposed, sensitive folds, his cock teases your messy lips as it slides under you, pressing your clit with his tip roughly as he slaps your cheeks red.

"Suguru... please stop teasing..."

"What did you say baby?" Geto purred, leaning in closer to you. "Can you put your cock in my dripping hole? Never thought you'd ask!" He murmurs, amused as ever as he lines his tip against into your entrance, splitting you open in one deep thrust.

You can't help but moan out his name.

"That's it princess, say it again." Geto groans, his body starting to move faster. He slams into you hard, his hips slapping against your ass cheeks as he takes you roughly, watching it bounce against him like waves.

"You're so fucking sexy."

"Sugu- fuck you're going too fast..."

Geto grinned against your skin, his teeth grazing softly. "You like it rough, don't you?" he asked, his voice low and husky as he picks up the pace even more. His hand snaked up to your throat to grip your neck from behind as he took you deeper, your wrists still bound.

“Geto- Fuck..yes-“

"You want me to fuck you harder?" Geto moaned into your neck. "You want my big cock to pound you?"

He pulled back, letting his hips smack against yours before slamming back into you, thrusting into you over and over.

"Yes- Yes please...l need you..."

"Tell me how much you need me," Geto growled, his fingers digging into your hips as he continued his relentless assault on your body. His cock throbbed inside you, demanding release as he took control of the situation completely.

In a harshly broken voice, "need you so much suguru... need to cum...”

"I'll give you what you need, baby," Geto murmured, leaning in to capture your lips in a bruising kiss as he started to pick up the pace, pounding into you harder and faster as your head turned back look at his pussy drunk face.

"Fuck- thank you~"

"Dont thank me just yet..." Geto whispered, as he continued to take you roughly, his hips slamming into yours in a punishing rhythm. "Gonna let me cum inside right princess? Yeah? Gonna let me fill up your little cunt? That's when you're gonna thank me."

His thick member throbbed as you desperately nodded. Letting go inside of you filling you up completely.

He grinned as he felt you shake, leaning down to capture your lips in another deserpate kiss as he continued to pump his seed into you. He was incredibly self-satisfied, knowing that he had reduced you to nothing but a needy, cum-filled mess.

whimsic4alwasab1 ™ - do not copy, translate, modify, or claim any of my work as your own.

#jo’s posts #jjk #jjk suguru #jjk smut #jjk geto #getou suguru x y/n #getou suguru x you #getou smut #jujutsu geto #geto x you #geto smut #getou suguru x reader #geto x reader #geto suguru #jujutsu kaisen suguru #suguru geto smut #jujutsu suguru #suguru x reader

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ghoulfriends-and-tin-cans · 2 days

Text

Howdy Partner - Part 1

I...yep. This fic finally broke out of the cage in my brain and found its way into the world. Careful. It bites.

If you'd like to be added to my taglist, please let me know!

Cross-posted to AO3 here.

~*~

Pre-War!Cooper Howard (Fallout Show) x fem!Reader

[A/N: This is just fluff with some suggestive language, because as sinfully hot as he is as a Ghoul, he looks like an absolute cinnamon roll as an actor.]

Warnings: Fluff, mild angst, mutual pining, idiots in love, they both think their feelings are unrequited, Cooper is already divorced, flirty friends to lovers, they both wanna kiss so bad, drinking but not heavy, mentions of alcohol, they're not tipsy but they have had a couple of glasses of champagne.

~*~

"Cut! That's a wrap for this week," the director called, and everyone on set began to disperse. Beginning to corral the various props so they could be stored until Monday, I breathed a sigh of relief that the week was over. Halfway through winding up one of the ropes, someone cleared their throat behind me.

"Pardon me, ma'am. Any chance an ole cowboy could int'rest you in a celebratory drink?" The faux western accent drew a smile across my lips before I could school my expression. When I turned, Cooper Howard stood in full costume with his cowboy hat held respectfully over his chest. Always such a gentleman.

"Surely there's some gorgeous starlet who you'd rather be drinking with, Mr. Howard," I teased as I laid the looped rope onto its hook. Clasping my hands behind my back, I blinked innocently up at the man who'd been my friend for years and had quickly carved a spot for himself in my heart.

"Now, why would I want to take another woman out on the town when the most gorgeous one in all of Hollywood is standin' right in front of me?" He murmured, and despite the pang it sent through my heart, I gave a sly smile as I grasped his arm.

"One of these days, Coop, you'll regret being so flirty with me," I said as he plunked his hat on top of my head instead of his own. I couldn't imagine it looked as good on me as it did on him.

"Oh? And why's that?"

"Because, one of these days, the woman destined to be your next wife might overhear you, think you're taken, and give up before she's even met you." We walked toward his trailer, dodging busy workers as we talked. "Or worse...I might actually think you mean those sweet little things you say to me."

Keeping my head forward as we walked, I caught him looking at me out of the corner of my eye, his expression inscrutable.

"Wouldn't that just be a shame," he muttered, but his tone contradicted his statement entirely. A large grin stretched Cooper's lips as we stepped inside his trailer. I knew the drill by now. We left the door open, and I took a seat as he ducked behind a privacy screen at the other end. His accent fell away as he changed out of his costume. "That hat's yours now, by the way."

For a moment, all I could hear was the gentle sound of cloth as I tried to force my tongue to work.

"What?"

"They had about ten of those hats for this movie, and I snagged a couple. One for me, and one for you. That one's yours," he called, and butterflies swarmed in my stomach. "Assuming you want an old actor's hand-me-down, of course. You could always just leave it in my trailer today when we go for drinks and the costume people will find it. I just remember you saying you liked the way the one from this particular movie looked, so I figured..."

He trailed off as he walked out from behind the privacy screen in a white button-down shirt and some dark brown slacks. My breath hitched in my throat, but I shook my head quietly.

"No, I do love it. I'm not leaving it here," I said as I got to my feet. "Thank you, Cooper."

Pink dusted his cheeks, and I couldn't help but wonder how I got this lucky. He didn't feel the same as I did, but it was enough that he considered me one of his close friends. Or, at least, that's what I told myself on those lonely evenings when I wanted nothing more than to fall asleep in his arms.

I'd been lost in thought for a moment, snapping back to reality when he waved a hand in front of my eyes.

"You in there?" He asked, a mix of amusement and concern coloring his features as I blinked up at him. "You looked like you were a thousand miles away."

"Only about fifteen," I muttered, and before he could ask what I meant, I plastered what I hoped was an enthusiastic smile on my lips. "Well, what are we waiting for? You wanted a celebratory drink, so let's go get it, shall we?"

Cooper had known me for too long to be fooled by that. Like always, I could see his jaw clench for a second as he tucked the information away in the back of his mind for later, then smiled back at me.

"Lead on, ma'am." His faux western accent was back, and he gave me a little wink as I slipped past him out of his trailer.

I'd expected to find myself in a bar with him, but Coop had different plans. He'd driven me to his place - a much smaller house than the one he'd previously shared with his daughter and his ex-wife. He'd downsized after the divorce, choosing a more rustic place that was closer to nature than his cushy almost-mansion had been. Modern conveniences were still present, but he was no longer surrounded by the stifling side of city life.

Kicking our shoes off and wandering out onto the upstairs balcony, we raised our champagne flutes and toasted the success of the new movie. I tried not to watch the bob of his Adam's apple too closely as he swallowed.

Looking out at the dark expanse of the night and the bright lights of the city several hours later, we'd barely finished more than a couple of glasses each. It was so incredibly easy with him. We'd talked the whole evening away, focusing on everything and nothing, paying no mind to the fact that the world kept spinning without us.

Eventually, a cold breeze whirled through the air, and we retreated inside. Cooper grabbed an oversized blanket and we cuddled up together in his living room in front of the fireplace. Setting the hat he'd given me on the coffee table, he wrapped his arms around me and let me rest my head on his chest.

This wasn't the first time we'd curled up like this, but it felt more weighted this time. His chin touched the top of my head just as I noted how fast his heart was beating.

Adrenaline. That's all it was. We'd both been startled by how quickly the temperature had dropped. There was no way it could be anything else.

"It looks better on you," he murmured against the top of my head, and my own heart thudded faster in my chest. "The hat, I mean."

A huff of laughter escaped me.

"Somehow, I think your fans might disagree, Mr. Howard. Hell, even I disagree," I admitted as I toyed with one of the buttons on his shirt.

"That's too bad. All of you are wrong. You look so damn good in it," Cooper said as one of his hands skimmed up my back. He sounded more serious than any of his other silly little flirtatious statements ever had - a feat I hadn't thought possible. I could never tell if he was joking when we were alone like this.

"Careful, now. I might end up thinking you're serious–"

"I am," he blurted as his grip around me tightened by a fraction. "I'm serious."

When I lifted my head to look up at him, Cooper was already looking at me; his gaze was soft and vulnerable as he lifted a hand. The backs of his knuckles brushed down the side of my face so gently that the breath was stolen from my lungs.

"Cooper..." I tried to tell him what I was feeling - tried to force all of the words I'd been holding back to the tip of my tongue - but they got stuck somewhere in my throat.

"It's okay," he breathed, his voice was low and rough as he spoke. "You don't have to say anything. I know this probably isn't... I'm divorced, older, and I have a kid. I'm not under any delusions about how undesirable my situation is, but I just wanted to say it once...before I lost my nerve."

I must've fallen asleep. I was dreaming, I had to be.

"I don't expect you to feel the same. You're so beautiful, so kind...you must have men beating down your door for a chance to be with you, and you're stuck here drinking with a washed up old man," he murmured, guilt winding around every word. "When I drive you home in the morning...if it would make you more comfortable, we can forget I ever said anything...blame it on the champagne."

Alarm rocketed through me. I didn't want that. I didn't want to forget. I didn't want to blame it on the alcohol.

Dream or not, I just wanted Cooper.

Leaning upward, I took a chance and pressed my lips against his. They'd always looked soft. I never thought I'd get the chance to find out what they felt like on anything but the back of my hand.

When he kissed me back, I'd never been so glad to be wrong.

Giving in to my desires, I braced one hand on his chest and buried the other in his soft, dark hair. He grabbed the back of my neck, pulling me closer as we drowned in each other.

When we finally broke apart, Cooper nuzzled my nose drawing a breathless, joyful giggle from some dazed part of my mind.

"Stay with me tonight," he whispered, and I nodded my head.

"I did assume I would be when you stated that you'd be driving me home in the morning," I teased, and he gave me a gorgeous smile, his eyes twinkling in the low light.

"Beautiful smart-ass. I meant...stay in my room with me. Not the guest room," he murmured even as his gaze dropped to my lips again. "I promise I'll be good - keep my hands to myself."

"You don't have to." The words whispered against his lips prompted a hungry hum from his throat, but he shook his head.

"I want to wine and dine you first. You deserve that...deserve to be treated like a princess," he said, "that way, when the time comes, and I finally have you all to myself, you'll know how much you mean to me."

A desperate whimper escaped me, and he smirked like the cat that got the canary.

"Now, can you be a good, patient girl for me tonight, sweetheart?"

I agreed, muttering under my breath that he was a damn tease, but my protests were silenced by the look Cooper gave me as he led me to his bedroom. Longing looked good on him.

~*~

Taglist:

@live-logs-and-proper

#ghoulfriends-and-tin-cans fic #Cooper Howard x Reader #Pre-War!Cooper Howard x Reader

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zephyrchama · 3 days

Text

Vampire MC part II - with Mammon heads up - this one's a bit angsty and there are descriptions of pain

(intro/masterlist can be found here)

Mammon was having a rough time.

He was put in charge of you from the very beginning. You were his responsibility, his human to watch over. He blew it.

Nobody had been allowed near the castle to see you since the incident. Mammon got his ass severely handed to him by Barbatos every single time he tried visit. So for the last month, the second-born spent his time either locked up alone or out at the casino. Though, no amount of winning hands and jackpots could ease the knot of guilt tangled in his gut. He hardly ate and hardly slept. The Avatar of Greed wanted to see you.

Yet when you finally came home, he couldn’t bring himself to knock at your door. What could he say? Pretend like he didn’t royally mess up by letting you out of his sight?

Despite all you'd been through, you had to be the one to reach out. You tapped on his bedroom door with a hesitant "Mammon? Can I see you?"

There was a thud. He might have fallen out of bed in haste. No sooner had the door swung open than you were in Mammon’s arms. He tugged you into a tight embrace, nuzzling his face into your hair. “Man, I am so sorry.”

He feared letting go, he wouldn’t let you disappear again. It was sweet and welcoming and you felt his heart racing. That's the demon you knew.

Mammon clung to you so tightly. He dug his fingers into your sides in a fervent attempt to be closer, but there was something more. A hot sensation. As if boiling water was seeping through your shirt and dripping down your skin.

You hesitated, wondering if it was all in your head. “Wait… Mammon, that hurts.”

“Deal with it.” A whole month of loneliness, all his regret and despair, was packed into this hug. It was an important moment to him.

As the seconds ticked by, the pain grew. It couldn’t have been your imagination. It was searing hot, like a poker fresh off the flames. You pushed back, squirming in pain and confusion, desperate to suddenly escape his grasp.

“Let me go.” You began to panic. “Let me go, Mammon. Now.” You struggled to get away. Right before resorting to the pact, Mammon dejectedly released you, slowly loosening his hold. He gazed at you, pitifully upset.

“What…? Didn’t you want to see me?” His voice quivered.

You sucked in a sharp breath and winced, too preoccupied with rubbing the pain away to listen. It wasn’t getting any better, but at least now it wasn’t getting any worse. It just throbbed.

To investigate, you rolled up a section of your shirt. Around your waist where Mammon had gripped the tightest were deep red rashes. Such spots had not been there before. You didn’t want to touch them. You were starting to feel lightheaded and thirsty and didn’t want to make the situation worse.

“The hell!? I didn’t do that!” Mammon scrambled to your side, uncertain. Afraid to touch you again. “…did I?”

He wanted to do something, anything, to heal you and make you feel better, but what did he even do? He fixated on his hands, as if seeing them for the first time. Were they the issue? They were well-kept, as usual. His nails were trimmed neatly. His skin was flawless. He hadn’t been cursed as far as he could tell, nor had you, aside from the whole vampirism thing.

He stared intensely. Maybe it was one of his new rings. That morning he hadn’t even paid attention to what he put on, anything had been fine so long as it was attention-grabbing and gaudy enough to make him feel influential. A cheap distraction. Mammon flipped his hands, trying to figure out what was wrong. His face contorted into a loathsome scowl as he realized the error of his ways.

With a barrage of swears, he angrily yanked off every last ring.

“Damn it! Can’t believe I did this!” Some of the weaker stones and bands crumbled to dust in his clenched fist. The rest broke when Mammon pelted them at the wall at full force, leaving dent marks in the paint. He patted himself down, frantically emptying his pockets and ripping off a necklace.

You didn’t like seeing Mammon so agitated. It scared you. “What? What’s wrong?” The demons were terrifying when they got angry.

“Silver.” He practically spat the word out, and suddenly it all made sense. Surely Lucifer warned all of his brothers about this as part of your homecoming preparations. Whether they properly listened or not was another story.

A little silver ring could hurt you that much?

“Oh.” You fell down onto Mammon’s couch, dumbfounded that such a common thing was now so dangerous. You probably couldn’t wear some of the jewelry the brothers had gifted you anymore. You laid your head back. The ceiling lights were so bright and dizzying.

"Hey." Mammon knelt on the floor, hands on his knees, eyes level with yours. Close, but not touching. "Tell me what I gotta do to make this right."

"Right now?" You mulled over what would make you feel better, what could distract from the silver burns and make you feel normal again. "I just want you."

Mammon gently scooped you up with one arm supporting your back and the other hooked under your knees. "I've been waitin' so long to hear that."

His grasp was much more tender and he leaned you against his chest while awkwardly stepping up onto the couch, then turned around to sit and lowered you onto his criss-crossed legs.

You slowly draped your arms around his shoulders, listening to the beat of his heart. Mammon smelled amazing, and not just from whatever scent he chose to wear that day. It drew you to him. You tempted yourself with a closed-mouth kiss to his collar, slowly inhaling the pleasant aroma. This intimacy might be dangerous. You exhaled, keeping your lips locked against his skin as they parted just a sliver.

You felt too shy to glance up and meet his eyes. They were so fond of you, so full of relief and love, even though in that exact moment all you could think of was pushing him down and taking a nice meaty bite.

“Y’know… A lot of people’ve tried real hard to get even a single drop of my blood over the years. A lot of ‘em. For lots of reasons.” He reclined back into the couch cushions, leaning you on top of him with his arms gingerly wrapped around your ribs. Mammon put himself in quite the vulnerable position, neck within easy reach. “I always turned ‘em all down. But this... it’s a small price to pay if I get to hold you like this.”

#tumblr makes long posts shorter now right? this isn't gonna take up half of someones dashboard right? aaaaa #i struggled because i know mammon's a fan favorite hgahjgadjk #obey me mammon #obey me #obey me shall we date #omswd mammon #omswd #obey me mammon x reader #obey me mammon x mc #obey me x reader #obey me vampire au #obey me fanfiction #obey me fanfic #obey me angst #ask request #obey me fluff #obey me x mc #obey me x gender neutral reader

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the-oblivious-writer · 1 day

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Daylight |1|

Amber Freeman to Eventual Tara Carpenter x Fem!Reader

Chapter one: It's Nice to Have a Friend

Summary: You are enjoying a pleasant evening with Tara when things escalate for the worse when you answer a phone call from your girlfriend, Amber. There's only one person who can get your day back on track

Warning(s): Swearing, toxic!amber x reader, arguing, & implied anxiety

Notes: first chapter out. finally.

Masterlist|Next Part

You were currently napping at your desk, drool dripping down the side of your mouth as your trigonometry teacher drowned on about—something, you couldn’t really think right now. You were up until three in the morning preparing for your physics exam. You would be risking your spot on the football team if you got anything that wasn’t passing.

So here you were, knocked out in the middle of math, when all of a sudden something smacks the side of your face. It’s enough to get your attention, waking you up before you look around with a puzzled expression. You rubbed your eyes before grabbing the folded piece of paper that had hit you.

you drool when you sleep, the note read. You peaked to your left, glancing at the girl who sat one over from you. A smile began to graze your face when you realized who had thrown you the note. You wrote a reply on the corner of the paper before swiftly passing it back to the girl.

When she looked over to you, you were already looking up ahead as if nothing. She read the note; at least i dont watch people while they’re sleeping creep. She couldn’t help but smirk down at the note, playfully rolling her eyes before ripping off another piece of paper from her notebook to roll into a ball and throw it at you. You narrow your eyes at her but she’s imitating a confused look.

Then the sound of your teacher clearing his throat could be heard. “Ahem. Tara and Y/N, is there something you would like to share?”

You and Tara make eye contact before looking back at the teacher.

“No, Mr. Quinn,” Tara said before you followed with, “No, sir.”

After a second he nodded, “Alright then—as I was saying.” He turned back around, continuing the lesson.

When the class was over, Tara walked over as you were packing your things. You could hear her impatience as you did so which caused you to roll your eyes. “You don’t have to wait for me,” you told her while zipping up your bag.

“And you don’t have to be the slowest person alive, but here we are,” she countered as you both began to walk out of the classroom.

“Whatever—damn it these halls,” you grunt after somebody slams into you. “We’re doomed if the school’s ever set on fire.”

“I don’t care what the code or whatever is, if the school’s set on fire it’s every student for themselves,” Tara replies.

“You do know that means right?”

“What?” She knitted her eyebrows, looking up at you as the two of you continued to walk in the school’s halls.

“Tiniest people go first,” you answer—immediately making Tara shove your arm.

“Shut the fuck up,” she laughed, her dimples showing as she lightly shook her head. Tara’s hand was still gripping your sleeve, an action that neither of you took notice of. She’s been your friend, your best friend, since you were six years old; a bit of physical touch was not uncommon in your friendship, never questioned.

Both of you were now leaning against a vacant wall, and just as she was about to open her mouth to say something else, another arm slipped around your waist, causing Tara to let go of your arm. It didn’t take long for this person to practically be clinging off of you—her arm around your waist, the index finger of her other hand hooked in one of your belt loops.

Of course, who else could this person be than none other than your girlfriend; Amber Freeman.

“Oh, hey Tara. Didn’t see you,” Amber backhandedly greeted without even looking at Tara. Amber had always been passive aggressive towards Tara. The Carpenter couldn’t explain it well if you asked her, but ever since they met—seventh grade—it’s like she has this vendetta against her. You were having lunch with Tara when Amber met you, and it didn’t take long for her to take a liking to you. She had developed a crush on you throughout middle school, it wasn’t until the summer before sophomore year that you and her got together.

And that is how the three of you were now in this hallway, Amber with her arm around your waist, your own arm around her shoulder, while Tara resisted the urge to gag at the PDA.

“I actually have to get going, but I’ll see you later?” Tara says as she starts to make a subtle exit. She no longer saw a reason to stay.

“Of course, see you around,” you send her a smile that she doesn’t hesitate to send back. That was something you could always count on her for.

Your eyes don’t leave Tara until they lose track of her in the crowded hallway. Just seconds later you felt a tug on your belt loop and you looked down to see Amber.

“Are you coming to the party tonight? Marcy’s throwing it since her parents are out of town for the next few days,” your girlfriend explained.

“Sorry, can’t tonight. I have to watch my little brother. Some other time?” Your tone was apologetic as you gently rubbed her lower back, hoping she wouldn’t be too upset you couldn’t make it to Marcy’s party.

“Whatever. It’s fine,” was all she said—her voice monotone and dismissive—while she began to pull away. Your eyebrows furrowed at her actions and a pressure starts to envelop your chest. She started to turn to walk away from you and that’s when you reached for her hands.

“Hey,” you murmured loud enough for her to hear while you turned her back around to face you. “I’ll try and get the next one, okay?” You try to hold eye contact with her but she seems to find the ground more interesting. “I’m sorry, Ambs.”

She finally looks up, sighing. “It’s okay. Next time.”

“Next time,” you nod as you bite the inside of your cheek.

Amber looked at you, letting out another sigh before saying, “I’m fine, Y/N—really. You’ll get the next one.” That tightening feeling in your chest begins to loosen at her reassurance. “I have to go,” she gives you a kiss, deepening it just before pulling away. “I’ll text you this weekend?”

You hummed in response, and the two of you shared another kiss before you both set off for the day.

After making sure you had everything, you began to walk towards the main entrance—leaving the building before making your way to the spot where you and Tara meet up everyday after school. You always walk home together, pretty much since you first started becoming friends.

You leaned against the pillar as you waited for Tara; it’s not like you didn’t see her just a few minutes earlier, so she shouldn’t be too long. You look out ahead, blankly staring at the patches of ice that covered the ground; it was windy out, so much in fact you felt as though you couldn’t go without five seconds of blinking or else you would start tearing up. Thank goodness for eyelids—

—“Boo!” You heard someone shout; you immediately jumped back, startled, your hands were raised and ready to swing at whoever or whatever. But any thoughts of fighting vanish when you look over to see the culprit. “Jesus fuck, Tara,” you suspired.

She’s laughing her ass off, both hands over her mouth. You let out a dramatic exhale before saying, “I’m gonna get you for this. Just wait.”

“Oh yeah?” She replied between giggles, “What are you gonna do? Throw a football at me?”

“You’ll see,” you warned while narrowing your eyes at her.

Tara was finally able to get herself to stop laughing. “Of course you will, tough guy.”

“Whatever,” you mumbled as the two of you began to walk. “So, got any plans on this incredibly dull Friday evening?” You inquired while digging through your pocket for your gloves.

“Mmm not really,” Tara answered. Her arms always had a slight sway to them as she walked; it’s something you’ve always noticed, it’s one of the things that’s never changed about her.

“Then are you free to come over? My parents are out of town and I’m still gonna be watching my brother, but he’s probably just gonna be playing video games with his friends the whole time anyway,” you said; your hands were still digging around in your pockets.

“Yeah, I’m down.” Tara looked at you with raised eyebrows before saying, “Um, you looking for something?”

You suddenly groaned when you realized, “Shit. I left my gloves at home.” You roll your eyes at your own forgetfulness before stuffing your hands back in your pockets in an attempt to keep them warm.

“You can take mine,” Tara tells you. Without hesitation, she stops and begins to take off her own gloves but you put your hand over her own to stop her.

“Tara, don’t be ridiculous. I’ll be fine,” you try to reassure her.

At this point, you both have stopped walking. Tara shook her head at you, “Don’t be so stubborn. Just take them.”

“What about your hands?”

“I’ll survive.”

“Now who’s being stubborn?” Ugh, you were so annoying. How dare you use her own words against her.

“Fine. How about this, you take one glove and I keep the other one.” She looked at the hesitant look on your face before sighing, “If you don’t take it then I’ll just refuse to wear my gloves at all and then we’ll both freeze our hands off.”

“Fine,” you finally gave in, taking the other glove from Tara and putting it on. You slipped on only half of the glove before you realized something. “Wait. You don’t have pockets.”

“Okay?” Tara looked at you confused.

“Where are you gonna put your ungloved hand?”

“Oh my God, I’ll be okay. I have—”

“—Warm blood? Yeah, I’ve heard that one before,” you chuckled.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Tara asked in a defensive tone.

“You said the same thing when we went to see No Way Home but all I could hear was your teeth clattering.”

“That is not true!”

“People complained!”

After a few moments of silence of seeing who would break first, you finally spoke up. “Okay. How about this, you use one of my pockets. Deal?”

“It’s not that deep,” Tara protested.

“...Deal?”

Tara rolled her eyes, shutting them as she sighed before looking at you again. “Deal.”

She got closer to you before you wrapped your arm around her, giving her right hand access to your right pocket. A smile grazed your face, “See now was that so hard, shortstack?” You teased as you lightly noogied her with your free hand.

“You are such an ass and a half for that,” you heard her bitterly say.

“Yet you stay,” you said as you were both turning the corner to where your house was.

“I should’ve left you on that street corner where you were standing.”

“But you didn’t,” you remark while getting your key out of your pocket.

“Just shut up and open the door. It’s freezing and my feet still hurt from gym,” Tara complained, never dropping her hand from your pocket.

“Oh? I thought you were—what was it? ‘Warm blooded’ you said?” You smirked, beginning to turn the front door’s lock with your key. Tara started shoving you as soon as you unlocked the door.

“Hush,” she scolded you while taking off her shoes.

“No need to shove.” You kick off your shoes before placing them to the side. You and Tara make your way to the kitchen, placing your stuff down on the way in.

“Your parents already left?” Tara asked as you rummaged through your refrigerator.

“Yeah, they had to go to some funeral. Nobody I was close with though—I think it was a distant uncle,” you filled her in as you gave her one of the gatorades you pulled out of the fridge. “They should be back by tomorrow night,” you continued.

“And I’m assuming that’s your brother upstairs?”

Your little brother and his friends were currently yelling at each other over voice chat, you weren’t really sure what about but you knew it was video game related.

“Of course,” you said after taking a sip of your own gatorade, “Wanna head to my room or the basement?”

“Either’s fine, I’m honestly just beat. Anywhere I can lay down I’m totally open to,” Tara said while stretching out her arms.

“My room it is.”

—

“So,” Tara started; you were both on your bed, her legs on your lap as you both watched a show on your laptop, “what did the ice queen want when I left earlier?” The use of the nickname Tara had for Amber caused you to glance at her.

“Tara,” you said, giving her a look that matched your scolding tone. She mumbled something under her breath before you continued. “She just wanted to know if I could make it to a party tonight. I just said I couldn’t, and that was that.”

“Ah,” she replied in a monotone voice.

“What?” You asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Nothing, that was just a normal ‘ah.’”

“If you say so…” You both turn back to screen, Tara reaches over you to grab one of the snacks before you feel a buzz in your pocket; you looked down to see you got a message from Mindy.

“Who is it?” asked Tara, followed by her shoving a few gummy bears in her mouth.

“Your sister,” you replied without hesitation as you typed.

She shoved you with her foot, glaring at you for your comment.

“Nah, just Mindy asking if I’ll be at the party—oh, and apparently Wes too.” Tara immediately grabbed the nearest pillow and shoved her face against it, her loud groaning muffled. You laughed at her actions before continuing, “Maybe it’s not as bad as you think. Maybe he really is just curi—nevermind, I can’t even lie.”

She let out an even louder groan. After a few more seconds, she finally picked up her head as she sighed.

“We dated for like five minutes. That’s it.”

“You can’t blame the boy for being so obsessed with you. I mean, look at that face,” you teased as you pinched her cheeks. She rolled her eyes, harshly letting her head fall against your bed’s headboard.

“Ow,” she winced.

“14 year-old you just had to be polite,” you said while also moving your head to rest against your bed’s headboard. You tilted your head to face her, now looking at each other as you slipped your phone back into your pocket.

“That isn’t …exactly what happened,” her eyes trailed down to her lap.

“It’s exactly what happened. You would’ve felt too guilty to say no because his pet hamster had just died.”

“Ugh.”

“How come you’re never that nice to me?” You feigned a pout while reaching for your phone that was now vibrating in your back pocket. “Uh. I gotta take this. Gimme a sec.”

Tara didn’t have to ask who it was. She already knew from the shift in your demeanor and attitude.

“Hey…” Tara heard you trail off as you left the room. You closed the door, going off to the side and leaning against the wall.

“Hey.” Amber’s greeting was curt and monotone. Nothing good could come from whatever she was about to say next.

“What’s up babe?” You hoped that your voice didn’t show how nervous you were.

“Don’t ‘babe’ me. What is this I’m hearing about you and Anika?” Shit. You know you should’ve told her sooner, you still would’ve gotten heat for it but at least it would’ve came from you and not a gossiping cheerleader just trying to stir up trouble.

“It’s nothing bad—I just need some help in physics and she agreed to tutor me,” you tried to explain as straight-forward as you could.

“How do you conveniently fail to mention this? We saw each other not long ago, yeah? So how come I have to hear about this from Daphne?”

“There’s nothing else going on other than studying. She just—”

“She just what?!”

“She just offered! She overheard me talking to Chad about needing to get my grade up!”

“Yeah right, Y/N! Everyone knows she has a thing for you, don’t be so naive,” she scolded as if you were a troublesome child. “I bet this is why you didn’t want to come to the party tonight.”

“Are you kidding? I told you, I have to watch my brother tonight. And Anika does not have a thing for me. Why can’t people just be nice to me without you freaking out?” Now you were pacing back and forth.

“Maybe I wouldn’t have to freak out if you would just tell me these things beforehand!” She shouted.

A familiar tightness in your chest grew with each word she threw at you, and your tongue felt as though it was glued to the roof of your mouth. What could you possibly say when you knew it wouldn’t suffice? You knew nothing you said would matter. You knew she wouldn’t have any of it.

“And you fail to notice half the school wants you—but once again, you’re just being naive! But I’m just your lame girlfriend, right? I don’t matter?”

You manage a scoff at her words. “Who—when did I say that?”

“Yeah go ahead, act like I’m insane. That I’m just making it all up in my head,” Amber went on as you rubbed the bridge of your nose.

“That’s not what I’m saying at all. I’m sorry, I just—”

“So you’re saying I’m not making this all up in my head? That I should worry about this?” This remark only made you even more exasperated from how insane it all sounded. This is insane, right? You’re not losing it? There really is no winning with this woman.

“What? No! Of course not. Please just tell me what the right thing to say is.”

Then there was a pause that lasted a little over five seconds, but it felt longer. After the pause, you could hear Amber sigh over the phone. “I just need space right now.”

“I feel like… I feel like you always need space,” you confessed, aggravation at the tip of your voice.

“Have you ever considered this is why? Maybe I wouldn’t need so much space if you would actually learn to listen to me for once,” she sourly shot back. Although she was no longer shouting, you could feel her burning frustration through the phone. You were all too familiar with her pattern of emotions when it came to disagreements with her.

“I am listening but—”

“Clearly you’re not if there’s a ‘but’ to that.” Amber let out a dry laugh. “This is exactly why I need space; why we need space. When you wanna start acting like my girlfriend—you know where to reach me.”

She didn’t give you a chance to plead your case any further, hanging up the phone just as she spoke her last words.

You let your head hit the nearby wall as you slumped down to sit on the floor, groaning out. You tucked in your knees close to your chest before dropping your head to rest on them.

God, how could you be so stupid? You should know better by now—right? It’s not like you haven't had the same argument with Amber over and over again. It was routine at this point. Literally all your fights go about the same.

You picked at your jeans, silently murmuring to yourself as you replayed the argument in your head.

“Fine. Take your space. I don’t care.” Your chin rested on your free arm that laid on your knees as your other free hand continued to pick at your pants. “Are people not allowed to be nice to me? I don’t say anything when she studies with other people. What’s so different about me? I’ve never given her a reason to think otherwise…”

Just then, the door opened. You looked over to your right, completely forgetting you were just outside your bedroom door. You looked up to see Tara staring down at you as she leaned against the door frame.

“Hey,” she greeted, walking over to sit in the vacant spot next to you on the floor.

“Hi.”

"Talking to yourself?" She quipped, jokingly, as a way to lighten the mood.

"You know me," you said. But Tara saw through to your thrown attitude.

“You okay?” She asked once she sat down.

“I’m… alright.” You responded, now looking at her. “Just the usual, you know.” There was a pause and a look that Tara was giving; you broke, sighing as you stared back down to your own fingers before speaking again. “She, uh, found out about Anika tutoring me. I guess she’s not Anika’s biggest fan or something.”

Tara knew she should comfort you. No matter how much she wanted to tell you that Amber was terrible, no good, and a bitch, she knew that would do no good. Reassurance was the way to go in these situations with Amber, no matter how much she hated the taste of her own words. “She’ll come around. She always does.”

“Thanks…”

A moment of silence passes before Tara gets up from her spot, your eyes tracking her movement. She reaches her hand out for you to grab before saying, “Come on, let’s play Mortal Combat or something. I’m bored and feel like showing off.”

You laughed as you took her hand and stood up. When you stood up, your fingers interlocked with hers, almost like puzzle pieces. She rubbed her thumb over your hand for extra measure. A sense of warmth flew through you and the tension in your shoulders start to release.

"Thank you, Tara."

-----------

A/N: drama, commence

Taglist: @alyciaddict @tropicals-things @orignalpat @lilbitdepressed27 @nahnahnahwhat @fanboy7794

#tara carpenter x reader #tara carpenter x y/n #tara carpenter x you #tara carpenter x fem!reader #tara carpenter x female reader #tara x reader #tara carpenter #amber freeman x y/n #amber freeman x you #amber freeman x reader #amber freeman #scream fanfic #daylight au

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hgfictionwriter · 2 days

Text

Mending

Jessie Fleming x Reader

Summary: Despite how great a girlfriend Jessie is, old hurt bleeds into your relationship with her and threatens to dismantle it.

Warnings: Mentions of emotional manipulation and abuse.

A/N: Bit of angst and hurt as reader recalls past experiences, but very much a comfort and reassurance fic. Happy ending. Based on this request.

"Hey, change of plans, instead of going out for dinner after the game on Saturday, Becky's invited us all to go to her house instead."

A heavy pit immediately formed in your stomach as you read Jessie's message. You totally forgot about dinner with her and the team on Saturday. Suddenly, the memory of you agreeing to come to dinner to celebrate Becky's milestone caps was vivid in your mind, unfortunately too late though.

You chewed the inside of your lip as you stared at her message and fret about what to do.

"Jessie, I'm so, so sorry. I completely forgot. I have [y/best friend]'s birthday that night. I didn't realize when I agreed that there was a conflict. We have reservations and tickets to an event that night. I'm really sorry - I don't think I can go to your game or to Becky's after. I wish I could though."

"I can't believe I didn't notice sooner. I promise I will make it up to you. I know you have plans the next day already, but maybe we could grab breakfast together?"

"All good. I have errands to run in the morning, so can't do breakfast."

You stared at Jessie's message. It wasn't warm like her usual texts. And she didn't offer an alternative or continue the conversation. Your chest tightened.

"That's okay! I wanted to offer. I'm really sorry, Jessie. I promise I'll pay closer attention next time. Maybe I could meet you after my event is over?"

"Or maybe I can skip part of something and join you for a bit that evening?"

A couple of hours passed - no response.

You stared at the messages with Jessie and fidgeted anxiously. You were supposed to be focused on a project right now, but you hadn't typed more than 50 words since Jessie texted.

You checked your phone incessantly. Your mind knew no new texts had come through, yet you checked with blind faith and hope that you'd see a message from her.

Logically, you knew she was probably just busy. She was at training, after all. But she'd made time to text you earlier. And she'd texted at various points of training before.

Your stomach churned, a heavy, deep pit inside of you, as you wondered if Jessie was mad at you for cancelling. And did she actually have errands that morning – or was she just upset with you.

The anxiety and unrest building inside of you was a feeling that was all too familiar and it hit you hard because of it.

You tried to remind yourself that Jessie wasn't your ex. Nor was she like your ex. She wasn't someone who would manipulate you, punish you with mind games and emotional warfare, and dangle her affection above your head as a reward you may receive if you were perfect enough.

At least Jessie wasn't like that so far. It had only been a couple of months. And you've seen people take great care and patience in slowly reveal who they are – and not for the better.

You sighed and felt a lump form in your throat. You hated being stuck in this state. You finally worked up the courage to leave your ex – and she didn't make it easy – but you wanted a better life.

You didn't want to walk on eggshells anymore. You didn't want to analyze every little action and word. You didn't want to try to anticipate your partner – doing your best to ward off her bad moods and brace yourself for when you weren't successful.

So, could you cancel on [y/best friend]? Well, anything's possible. But, you didn't want to. You gave up so much of yourself and your life on account of your ex and you swore you wouldn't do it again. Not even for someone as incredible as Jessie.

Yet, here you were making unprompted, borderline-desperate accommodations. The way you fell into old, bad habits left you dejected and ashamed. It felt like no matter how hard you tried to break cycles or damaging mindsets, simple things pulled you right back.

Several hours passed and you felt like you were going to be sick. Your mind was noisy with self-reprimanding thoughts and endless theories.

On your way home, you were looking at your messages with Jessie again when the typing bubble came up. Your body stilled and your breath hitched in your chest. You mouth was dry as you waited.

"You don't have to do any of that, Y/N. Seriously. Go to your friend's party!"

What did that really mean? Maybe it should've made you feel better, but instead you felt your worry grow.

You chewed your lip and typed out a reply.

"I can do both! I want to make it work. I'm sorry – that's what I should've said from the beginning."

"What? No. You don't need to. Go to [y/best friend]'s party."

"But I want to support you. And I don't want you to think I'm not prioritizing you."

"I'm sorry. I'm not sure what's happening. I think I've said something that's come across wrong. I'm not upset or bothered at all. I know you support me and prioritize me. And to be clear, you shouldn't prioritize me above yourself or everyone else."

You read Jessie's message. While you were dissecting everything she said, this message made you slow down and take a step back. It felt genuine – as far as you could tell. Maybe it was real.

"Okay. I'm sorry. I guess I was just reading into things and getting in my head. I'm sorry."

"Baby. Are you okay? What's going on?"

Without warning, you felt tears begin to prick at the corner of your eyes. You really wanted this relationship to be different. For you to be different, and you were ruining things anyway.

You were lost in your thoughts when your phone began to vibrate in your hand. You stopped in your tracks as your eyes shot down to see Jessie's name and picture. Your pulse quickened, but in a way you weren't used to with Jessie. Normally, it was excitement and anticipation, but in this moment you felt trepidation. You started walking again and reluctantly picked up.

"Hello?"

"Hey." Jessie's voice was warm and despite your concerns, immediately comforting. "I was going to wait for your text, but I thought maybe phone would be better. Things can get misconstrued easily with text. So...what's going on? Are you alright?"

"Yeah, I'm great." It pained you to muster up the false levity in your voice. "I'm sorry to worry you."

"You know, I'm the Canadian here, and yet you are doing an awful lot of apologizing. And you really don't need to," she offered with a soft laugh.

"I'm-" You stopped yourself with a near flinch before the word 'sorry' came out again. You took a quick breath and spoke evenly. "I'm okay. Really. Like I said, I was just getting in my head. It's all good though. Thanks for clarifying."

"Okay," Jessie said slowly, clearly not fully convinced. "I mean, can you tell me what I said that caused that? It definitely wasn't my intention."

You couldn't prevent your frustrated sigh from escaping you. You quickly spoke up to prevent Jessie from thinking it was about her.

"Honestly Jessie, it's okay. It's not on you. I just wanted to make sure I didn't upset you."

"Why would I be upset? I-" Jessie's tone was curious and not accusatory, but you cut her off.

"I wasn't paying close enough attention and I had to cancel on you. And I know your team was expecting me to be there too, so now you have to make an excuse for me." You swallowed and took a short breath, unsure if you wanted to go on or not. "And, I don't know. You seemed kind of curt? Or not that warm when you first responded? And then I didn't hear from you for a while..." Your voice wavered and trailed off as you heard your own words, a sense of anger rising inside of you at how pathetic you sounded.

"Baby," Jessie said affectionately, though you heard a faint laugh coming through the phone, "I'm really sorry. I was rushing to text you before we went out on the pitch, so that's why my texts were a bit more curt or blunt than usual, but I wanted to reply to you before I'd be gone for a while. I guess I didn't think about how that might be worse."

You listened to her reply, still feeling small, and failed to come up with a response before she spoke again.

"Are you free tonight?" She asked. "And by 'tonight' I mean in like an hour."

You stammered briefly, skepticism and confusion clouding your response before finding your voice. "Yeah." You let a beat pass. "Any reason why?" You asked tentatively.

Jessie laughed gently. "Because I'd like to come over and bring you dinner if you're up for it."

Your jaw clenched subconsciously. This didn't feel right. But still, you nodded. "Sure. That'd be nice." You couldn't stop yourself before you continued. "But you really don't need to. I've already caused issues today. Like, you don't need to change your plans or go out of your way. I'm totally fine."

"Sushi or Vietnamese?" She asked you undeterred.

"I-I don't know. Up to you."

"I would like your opinion," she continued lightly. It took you a couple of seconds to reply.

"Sushi."

"Done. I'll be at your place in about an hour, okay?"

"Jessie..." You weren't even sure what you were protesting anymore. It just all felt unfamiliar.

"I'll see you soon, babe."

True to her word, Jessie showed up at your apartment an hour later, sushi in hand.

"Hi," she said with a warm smile as she stepped in, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you in for a kiss. Even though your reciprocation was delayed and mild, she pulled back and still smiled at you sweetly.

"Thank you for having me over. I got you an extra order of those dragon rolls you like," she announced as she walked further in and set the bag down on your kitchen counter. She started retrieving plates from your cupboards. You stood passively behind, watching her move through your apartment leisurely.

"What can I grab you to drink?" She asked over her shoulder as she carried everything over to your table.

"I'm fine. I have some water," you told her, feeling like your voice was disappointingly meek. You refocused a moment later and straightened, taking a step towards your fridge. "What can I get you?"

"I've got it," she assured you lightly, holding up her hands, gesturing for you to relax. "I'll grab water. Take a seat. Dig in."

You slowly made your way over to the table. Your eyes remained fixed on her as you sat down. By the time she took her seat, you hadn't even retrieved your chopsticks off the table. She held your gaze and took a sip of her drink. She set the glass down and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.

"I was going to dig into things after dinner, but I get the sense it's heavy on your mind, so, if you're okay with it maybe we can just talk right now." It was more of a statement than a question, but she did leave the door open for you to object. When you didn't, she stood up slightly and shuffled over with her chair to sit right in front of you, your knees nearly touching.

"Is this okay?" She asked as she took your hands in hers. You gave a few faint nods and she offered you a small smile. "Okay. I guess I can start by clarifying – I didn't mean to sound curt or cold at all. I was in a rush and didn't think about how my words could come across via text. I'm glad you told me though, because now I know if there's something bigger going on I can approach things differently.

"If I don't have time to fully respond, would it be okay if I just tell you that I'm short on time but will answer you more later? And as part of that, tell you things are okay – I just want more time to give a full reply?"

Your posture straightened and you blinked as you processed her words. It just felt so strange.

"Y-yeah. That'd be totally fine." You shrugged before shutting your eyes and rethinking things. "But, that's silly. You don’t need to do that. I just should know and be able to not spiral." While you felt nervous and uncertain a few seconds ago, you now felt a wave of internal disappointment going through you. She brought you back to the moment by stroking the back of your hand with her thumb.

"I can communicate more clearly and intentionally," she assured you gently. "And you don't have to 'just know' - you're not a mind reader." She paused, holding your gaze before visibly exhaling. "But that does make me wonder. Why do you feel like you have to be a mind reader?"��

You could almost feel yourself shrink under the weight of her question. You averted your gaze and could feel your hands starting to get clammy.

"Hey," she said softly, urging you to look back at her as she lifted her hand and gently cupped your cheek. "It's okay. I don't want to push you, but, I feel like there's something more going on here, and...I care for you so much. I want to better understand. Better understand you, where you're coming from, and how I can be a better partner to you."

You don't know what happened. All of a sudden you felt your face screw up as tears started to form in your eyes.

"I'm sorry," you said, your voice coming out strained. She shuffled in closer and cupped your face anew.

"Hey, hey. Don't apologize. It's okay to cry. Take your time. I'm here." She caressed your hand and though you couldn't hold her gaze for long, you felt her caring eyes upon you. "You can talk whenever you like – if you like."

A few stifled sobs snuck out of you and you rolled your eyes at your lack of composure. She waited patiently and laid a lingering kiss on your forehead. You took a few deep, steady breaths and began to speak.

"I-I don’t know where that came from," you explained, forcing a mild laugh. She didn't return your laugh and you grew serious once more. "I," you spoke and your words faded. You took another quick breath and set your shoulders back. "I'm just not used to being treated like that. Like you did just now. And," your gaze flicked away out of guilt, "I don't know what to do with it. And I have a very hard time trusting it."

Jessie pulled her hand away from your face to take your other hand again. "Okay. Um. Well, first off, I'm really sorry that you're not used to being treated that way. You deserve to be treated with respect and care." She exhaled quietly. "Can I ask how you're used to being treated?" She rushed to explain. "It's not really my business – and I don't want to open old wounds, but if I knew, it would help me ensure I don’t inadvertently make you feel that way again."

You sighed wearily, blinking back new tears. "Well, I guess they're clearly not old wounds since they flared up again so easily." You pulled your hands back and brought them up to your temples. "I'm so sorry. This is such garbage that you're having to deal with this. I thought I was better."

"Baby," she coaxed gently, placing her hands on your legs and leaning in slightly, hoping to catch your eye. "Please do not apologize. Your feelings are totally valid. And we all have our pasts, and we each have unique hurt and pain from our experiences. And some things are not easy to heal, and I think it's fair to say that in some cases, some things never do fully heal. But, I'm here to help you navigate anything you may be going through as best as possible. I'm here to care for you, not hinder you."

You dug your fingers into your face briefly before dropping them to your lap with a breath that was half sigh, half laugh. You looked at Jessie, taking in her soft brown eyes that searched yours with compassion and sincerity. How did she choose you?

"Oh my gosh." You sniffled. "No one's ever said anything like that to me. Certainly not my ex."

Quiet realization dawned on Jessie's face before she settled back in, remaining focused on you. She waited wordlessly for you to go on. You scratched the back of your head briefly, eyes trained on the floor before you forced yourself to look up at her.

"Remember how I said things with my ex were rocky at times? Well. That was putting it lightly, really." You took a breath. "She could be so affectionate and loving one moment – like I was the center of her universe, and then cold and cutting the next, like I was some burden she had the unfortunate task of dealing with. And she never meant what she actually said – I always had to read between the lines. She'd tell me things are fine, but," you laughed ruefully, "they were not. She'd be withholding, and curt, making passive aggressive remarks. But anytime I tried to address things or call her out, she would insist that it was just me and everything was fine.

"That is, until we'd inevitably have a blow out of some kind, and she'd make it very clear that it was always my fault. That I was being difficult and if she was being cold or mean, it was to protect herself and it was my fault for making her feel or act that way. "

Jessie let out a brief laugh of disbelief, looking at you in mild shock. "Are you serious? That's-" She caught herself mid-sentence, exhaling momentarily before continuing. "That's unacceptable. So she gaslit you and made you feel crazy."

"All the time."

Jessie sat back briefly, slapping a hand on her thigh as she shook her head. "Wow. That's so horrible." She leaned back in and grabbed your hands. "I'm so, so sorry you had to go through that. None of that sounds fair or right. That would've been so hard to navigate." You wiped at a stray tear and let out a short, bitter laugh.

"It wasn't fun. And as you can see, it's royally messed me up." Your lip trembled. "And now you're dealing with the fallout. It's not fair to you."

"Y/N." She said your name tenderly and gave you a reassuring smile. "There is no 'dealing' here – I...I really care for you. And I want you to know that you're safe. I want you to be open and honest with me anytime something bothers you or hurts you. I want to build you up and make sure you see yourself the way I see you."

"See?" You asked, giving her a look. "I’m having a hard time reconciling these two experiences. Realities."

Jessie sighed softly and nodded. "I can understand that. I can only imagine how hard it would be to be with someone who is supposed to care for you and have your best interests in mind, but they're unpredictable or inconsistent in their feelings and actions. It would be hard to adjust after being in a relationship where your partner shows up differently depending on the day. Or uses their affection as a weapon or a bartering tool." She sighed again and lifted your hand to kiss your knuckles before clasping your hand between hers. "I'm so sorry, babe. You didn't deserve any of that."

You shook out your shoulders in an exaggerated shrug. "Except I thought I did for so long. And – I don’t know – I'm scared, I guess. She treated me so well at the beginning. And then over time things changed. Sometimes it's hard to believe that I didn't cause it in some way."

Jessie gave you a frown of concern. "You didn't. I promise you that. Everyone is accountable for their own actions – you shouldn't take responsibility or blame for her behaviour. We can all get frustrated or upset with other people – it's inevitable, but that doesn't give someone the right to mistreat anyone else." She frowned further, her tone now lowering slightly. "And she's an adult – she should be able to express her wants or needs without playing mind games with you."

You looked at Jessie, your eyes glistening with tears. You shook your head.

"Why are you being so good to me?" You looked away, frowning as your own frustration bubbled up once more. "I'm not even mad about it these days. Because I can't change the past, and I learned a lot about myself, what I want, and what I won't put up with anymore. But the worst part is that despite how much work I've done and how far I've come – you're sitting here, being incredible, saying and doing everything I ever dreamed of and all I can think is how long is it going to last until you change." You went on adamantly. "I know you're not her. At all. But, I've been burned before by someone who claimed to care. And apparently I can't seem to get over it."

Rightfully or not, you expected Jessie to get frustrated with you or even insulted by what you said. Instead, she studied you quietly and eventually her expression softened even further and she gave you a faint smile.

"You're right. I'm not her. And I hope I never meet her, because it breaks my heart to know that she hurt you so deeply. I really hope you know, or will know, that someone who loves you doesn't treat you the way she did."

She took a small breath, readjusting her position in her chair and grabbing both of your hands again. She stared down at them and started to speak.

"There's been something that I've wanted to tell you, but I haven't known when the right time would be."

She looked to you with a soft smile.

"I know someone who loves you doesn't treat you the way she did – I know that for sure - because I love you." She let the declaration hang in the air for a moment before continuing. "I love you. I have for a while now. Each day I wake up missing you if you're not next to me, and when I think of you I think of all the ways I want to love you – show you I love you. I want to make your life even better than it is today and do that for the rest of my life.

"Today, even with just the thought that I'd hurt you or upset you, I wanted to see what was wrong, what I did and how I could fix it so we can move forward together. I wanted to know how I could make you feel better. And then learning that you maybe didn't feel safe – I 100% wanted to reassure you that you should always feel safe and comfortable to feel your emotions and express yourself. I would never want you to have to edit yourself or hide.

"And I don't expect you to just 'get over' things. You are free to feel the way you feel, even if it means you can't fully trust that I'm being honest when I say these things. I hope you don't have to question these things forever, but I need you to know that I will always reassure you. And maybe even more importantly, that my actions will reflect my words."

She gave a light shrug and continued, her voice now playful. "And if you didn't notice, I'm a very patient and tenacious person, and it just so happens I'm very set on loving you for as long as you'll let me."

By the time Jessie finished speaking your lip was fully trembling and the tears were you fighting back were rolling down your cheeks. She was watching you calmly, waiting, and you covered your face with your hands. Your shoulders shook with a couple of soft sobs as you absorbed everything she just said.

She rest her hands lightly on your legs and idly caressed your knee with her thumb while she waited.

"Please don't hide," she coaxed gently. "Take your time, but you don't need to hide." A few moments passed and she added with a chuckle. "And I'm hoping those are good tears."

You laughed through your tears and lowered your hands to give her a watery smile.

"Of course they are," you told her, your voice thick with emotion. She cracked a smirk, sitting there so relaxed. You smiled further. Even if it didn't seem like it in the moment, being around Jessie always had a way of calming you and making you feel grounded. You launched forward and pulled her into a tight hug, which she readily returned with a soft laugh. She turned her head towards you to kiss the side of your head.

"I love you, too," you whispered as you gave her a squeeze and she clutched you tighter. She pulled back enough to look at you and this time she had tears in her eyes as well.

"You mean it?" She asked with a crooked and hopeful grin. You gave her a little disbelieving frown as you laughed.

"Of course I do. Jessie, how could I not love you? You're everything I could ever want," you assured her. She leaned in and gave you a soft kiss.

"I just want you to know that even though I said it, it doesn't mean you need to. If you aren't quite there yet, that's completely okay. I'm not leaving until you tell me to."

You rolled your eyes in ongoing disbelief and gave a light shake of your head. "You can't be real." She scrunched up her face at you playfully and you leaned in, holding her face in your hands as you kissed her slow. "And for the record, I am very much in love with you."

When you pulled out of the kiss, Jessie was beaming.

"Then I'm a very lucky woman," she said decisively.

#jessie fleming #jessie fleming x reader #woso x reader #woso #canwnt #jflem #woso imagine #canwnt x reader #portland thorns

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