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#don’t even get me started on his voice you will NOT hear the end of it
kamitv · 1 day
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Sypnosis . How they react to getting caught jerking off/How they jerk off when you’re not around. / Pairings . (Separate) Toji Fushiguro x f!reader, Geto Suguru x f!reader, Gojo Satoru x f!reader, & Nanami Kento x f!reader / Content . afab!reader, masturbation, pervertedness, praise, needy men, filth, dirty talk, non-curse au, degrading, established relationships etc. / wc . 5.5k
A/N: not proofread in the slightest— I apologize in advance for the errors. This is a mix of two requests; one from my lovely 👍anon; If it's not too much trouble, would you take a request for how JJK men jack it to reader? To a picture, their thoughts, or maybe reader asks them perhaps? & jjk men getting caught jerking off [MDNI]
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★ Toji Fushiguro
He’s the kinda guy that you could never be on the phone with past midnight. Why? Cause’ suddenly his voice is getting deeper, his comments are growing more suggestive, and he’s got a hand wrapped around his cock as he gets off to the sound of your voice.
What the hell are you even talking about? He’s got no idea, all he knows is that your soft tone, laced with such a faint sleepiness to it, has his cock aching within his hand.
You wouldn’t even notice he’s jerking off for a while either, not until he groans out your name.
The sound makes your entire body freeze and all you can do is stare at your phone, tipping your head to the side curiously before you tap on your phone to bring the ongoing phone call to the forefront of your screen.
You’d get quiet and he’d get louder, grunting out an all too deep, “Fuck,” That has you smiling to yourself a little. Especially when you hear him grunting as if he were trying to keep his sounds in.
But, your moment of confidence only lasts until the deep baritone of his voice snaps you out of it, “Keep fuckin’ talkin’, doll,” Toji orders and god does he sound sexy like this.
There’s the faintest hint of need in his voice that has you biting your lower lip to hold back the toothy smile trying to present itself on your face. Gulping, “Toji…” You murmur, and your ears don’t miss how he sighs heavily.
On his end, he’s got his legs sprawled out and his head tosses back at the sound of you calling his name, “What?” He’d huff, almost as if what he’s doing hasn’t become rather obvious to you.
Your voice is suddenly closer to the phone and it makes Toji grunt, “You okay over there? Y’sound… busy,” You utter teasingly.
“Mmmh… mhm, m’fine, jus’-, hahh, keep… keep talkin’,” His long pauses and heavy exhales were making you squirm on your end. You could only imagine how he looked right now— big hand wrapped around his cock as he gave himself quick tugs to the sound of your voice.
You start to shift around in your bed and almost forget to respond as you listen closely. Turning your volume up, you could hear almost everything. His sounds became vivid, a messy noise of spit heard as Toji wets his cock up in ways he’s known you to, his hand jerking his dick in quicker pulls due to the slickness of his saliva and precum mixing together.
“Hahhh, fuck,” Toji pants and starts slowing his hand down just so he can speak properly, “Why’d y’stop talkin’? Hm?”
“I uh… I thought I heard something, sorry,” You hum as you fake cluelessness. “Anywho, what was I saying again? Do you remember?”
Ah, you’d decided to test him thinking he wasn’t paying attention at all to what you were discussing earlier. Jokes on you, Toji knows how to multitask (sometimes), “Uh, you were tellin’ me about your day or somethin’,” He hums casually.
“Riight,” You chuckle. An idea pops into your mind and you decide to use his lack of full attention to what you were previously discussing to your advantage, “Well, me and my friends went to this new sweet spot today.”
“Yeah? ‘Nd what else, doll?” Toji sounded so clearly occupied but he was trying his best to just get you to keep talking. Every word that left your lips went straight to his cock.
You grin, “Well, it was pretty hot today so I got lucky they had popsicles! The one I got was suuper big, could’ hardly fit it in my mouth,” You explain.
Was this story true? Not exactly, but when else do you get the opportunity to tease your boyfriend like this?
Toji’s eyes flicker as he processes what the hell you just said to him, his cock twitching at the thought of your lips parting to take something large into your mouth— you knew what the hell you were doing to him and he was starting to pick up on it.
Swallowing thickly, Toji hums, “Oh yeah? Reminds me of a couple of other things that can’t really fit in your mouth…”
“Hm? Like what, Toji?” You murmur innocently.
Your voice had softened by a lot and it drove him crazy. Such a clear false innocence laced into your question had the man picturing your expression. The way you’re probably sitting there with your eyes all wide and curious, batting those pretty lashes of yours like you don’t know what the hell you’re asking him.
Scoffing, “Don’t play dumb, y’know what the hell m’talkin’ about.” Toji drawls out, voice a bit rougher with you.
You ignore his little attitude and let out a giggle, “Do I?”
“Yeah, y’do,” Your boyfriend huffs. His breathing is noticeably heavier and little did you know, he had his head resting back and his eyes on the ceiling as he fisted his cock rapidly, slick sounds masked by his voice every time he spoke.
As if to make his state worse, your voice dips into something more sultry, “I’m really not sure Toji… What else is too big to fit in my mouth? Hm?” You hum.
“Fuck-,” Toji lets out a slight gasp, his breath stuttering for a moment before he grunts, “My cock, baby. Y’know this.”
The way he gave up on getting you to say it first has you smiling, “Mmmh, I dunno Toji,” God you were saying his name too much and it was making his balls ache, “I had your cock down my throat perfectly fine the other day if I recall correctly.”
“Filthy fuckin’ girl,” Toji abruptly rasps out, making you gulp as you felt a throb in your core, “Where’d y’learn to talk like that, huh?”
You snicker, “From my boyfriend who enjoys jerking off to the sound of my voice.”
And just like that, Toji can feel his orgasm approaching— damn you and your slick remarks, you only ever acted like this over the phone. You knew better in person but, he didn’t mind right now.
“Hahh, fuck you,” Toji fires back.
“You want to right now, don’t you?” You were getting confident all of a sudden and he groans before shutting his mouth just to listen to you speak. “Wanna feel my tongue on your cock, huh?”
His hand squeezes onto his cock and a strangled grunt leaves the back of his throat, “Shit-,” Toji’s haw drops a little, “Don’t stop talkin’, m’close.”
“Yeah? Gonna cum thinkin’ about fuckin’ my throat, right?” You murmur.
And he definitely was, it’s all he could think about right now. Especially with how bold you were being, how could he not picture you on your knees and taking his cock down your throat as he face fucks you just to teach you a lesson about talking to him like this?
Then you just kept going, “…Or jus’ from me talking? Y’like my voice that much, Toji?” You ask.
He’s on his end just nodding as his brows furrow— when the hell was he this damn needy for you? “Yes, fuck… fuckin’ hell, yes, I fuckin’ love your voice baby,” Toji tells you.
God you wish you could see him right now. You just know he’s sweating, cockhead angry and leaking at your every word, big thighs parted yet jittery as he gets closer and closer.
“C’mon then big guy, cum f’me so you can come over,” Suddenly your tone is aroused and Toji’s squeezing his eyes shut in frustration.
“S’late, doll,” He argues.
You tut, “Yeah well listenin’ to you jerk off turned me on so now you’ve gotta come over ‘nd deal with it.”
Some nerve you had. As if you wouldn’t be the one all teary eyed and pouty after a few kisses from him…
Yet, Toji’s not thinking about that right now, mindlessly agreeing just because he needs you right now and his hand is starting not to cut it anymore, “Hahhh, alright-, shit. Whatever the fuck you want, doll. I’ll be over in ten.”
You snicker, “Make it five.”
He swears you’ll be the death of him.
Scoffing, “Needy ass girl… agh… can’t wait ten minutes?”
“You couldn’t wait til’ I got off the phone to jerk off?” You argue.
He’s smirking despite the slight irritation that creeps up on him due to how bratty you were being, “…Shut up.”
You smile, “Come shut me up.”
“Oh I’m about to.”
★ Geto Suguru
Moaning your name as if that’ll cause your hand to be wrapped around his cock instead of your panties— Suguru uses your clothes to get off when you’re not around.
He doesn’t bother to call you or text you. It’s usually late when he gets like this so he just uses the lace panties you “accidentally” left over at his place.
Sometimes he’s got the fabric wrapped around his cock as he jerks off and other times he’s got it pressed up to his nose, inhaling what little of your scent he could get as his hips fuck into the O-shape he’s created with his hand. If he inhales strong enough, he swears he can still smell your pussy and that alone makes his eyes roll to the back of his head.
“Fuuuck,” Geto moans unashamed into the air. What’s he gotta hold his voice back for? Even if you were to ever catch him like this, he knows you’re just as much of a perv as he is.
His hand has a strong grip on his base as he gets himself off with your panties. Just thinking about how the fabric clung to your cunt for hours on end has his cock dripping pre onto the floor.
“Fuckin’ miss you, agh,” Suguru would groan thoughtlessly into the air, recalling the last time he had your pussy on his tongue, how sweet how tasted, how addicting you are.
Within said imagination, he doesn’t even realize he’s moving your panties to his mouth, his tongue seeping out and pressing into the fabric as if that’ll give him a taste of you again. Is it the same as sucking on your cunt til’ your legs are shaking? No, of course not. Does it make Geto’s hand milk the fuck out of his cock? Well, yes.
Light and faint whines slip past his lips, “Ha-ahh… taste so fuckin’ good, baby,” Geto groans like you’re right there with him.
Shit, he wants you on his tongue again. He can never get enough of it— the way your pussy sloshes all over his mouth every time he eats you out, how you whine his name and beg him for a break, or even the way you get greedy as your orgasm nears and you start bucking your hips against him.
Either way, it’s all he can think about right now. And it doesn’t get any better when his eyes open and looks down at himself, your panties clung tightly in between his teeth as he envisions you below him with a mouth wide and ready for him.
Oh the way you always take his cock down your throat never fails to make his eyes cross. You’d suck on him like your life depended on it, moaning against his shaft whenever he started thrusting into your mouth or whining when he forces your head down some more.
And he’s so close as he thinks about it more— picturing your wet lips parted around his flushed tip, drool slipping out the corner of your mouth, and your tongue slipping against him languidly-
“Suguru?” The sound of your voice makes him moan in surprise before he’s turning his head to look at you.
Even caught in the act, he only gets turned on even more. His brows tense and he pants heavily as his eyes meet yours, quickly noticing the way your gaze dropped down to his achingly hard cock.
You were supposed to be asleep out on his living room couch where he’d left you moments ago but yet, here you were— standing with your eyes all wide and curious, taking careful steps toward the man as you cross your arms, and giving him this look that drives him crazy.
You gulp loudly as you look up to your boyfriend’s face, “Are those my panties in your mouth?”
“M-Mmhm,” Geto hums with an impatient nod of his head.
Your lashes bat at the man before you find yourself standing right in front of him, placing but a single hand on his chest before taking the other and removing the lace from the man’s mouth.
“That’s filthy Sugu,” You whisper carefully.
The way his lips part and how his eyes lower on you, a groan slipping from him due to how close your body was and the way you’d touched him so softly. “Uhuh, I know, baby,” His voice has the faintest shake to it as he mumbles out an answer.
Smiling slightly, you keep your eyes directly up on his despite his hand not stopping on his cock for even a second, “You could’ve woken me up if you needed me, Suguru.” You utter.
He cracks a lazy grin for a moment, “I jus’ needed your panties.”
You frown and your brows tense a bit, “…Pervert.” You whisper, watching how his body twitches in reaction before he’s leaning his face down and closer to yours.
“Mhm,” Geto hums, “Yeahhh, tha’s me, princess. Keep tellin’ me how fuckin’ nasty I am.” Your boyfriend purrs, earning a wide eyed look from you as you gaze up at him in surprise.
You comply, trailing a single finger down along his chest as you tip your head to the side and speak, “You’re filthy Sugu, gettin’ off with my panties… Bet you wanted to get caught like this too.”
“Maybe,” Geto tells you with that awfully cocky grin on his face, “But you’re not any better. I caught you fingerin’ yourself to my voice last week.”
You gulp, “T-That was…”
He’s leaning down past your face and you flinch as his lips make sudden contact with your neck, “Different, huh?” He rasps out, hot breath tickling the side of your neck.
Tense, your hand stops moving along his body and you angle yourself to look down at how aggressively he’s fisting his cock right now, “Yeah…” You murmur, completely distracted by the sight below you.
His hand got faster on his cock, quicker tugs made the longer you stared down at him and cum leaking from his tip as he grunted against your neck.
“Sure it was,” Geto whispers, but his voice is a lot lighter than you expected it to be. “Now are you gonna just stand here and watch me jerk off or are y’gonna get on your knees ‘nd take care of me?” He asks, lifting his face a little to kiss the space below your ear.
You unconsciously lick your lips the longer you stare down at his cock, watching him drip onto the floor and make the slightest mess before you chuckle, “That’s no way to ask, Sugu.”
He scoffs against you but you don’t miss the quietest whine leaving his throat before he speaks, “Funny cause I wasn’t fuckin’ askin’.”
“Oh?” You snicker at your boyfriend before turning your head to meet his gaze, “You’re mean when you get caught in the act…”
He stares you down and resists every neuron in his body that’s telling him to press his lips into yours, “Am I?”
“Mhm, as if you’re not embarrassed,” You tease. God you were driving him crazy— looking at him so longingly, your lips nearly on his, your body warm with how close you were to him and your hand low and near his cock.
Fuck, one more touch from you and he’d be cumming in seconds. “I’m not.” Geto replies to you.
You pull your lower lip into your mouth for a second and his gaze drops, “You sure? Y’know how long I was watchin’ you before I said something?”
“Fuck, how long baby?” He practically mumbles. He needed your touch so badly, you were too close to not be all over him right now and his restraint was waning by the second.
“A few minutes, saw you puttin’ my panties to your nose ‘nd everything,” As you speak, your hands are lifting and his eyes are widening.
Your arms wrap around his neck and he’s forced to stop his hand on his cock before he blows his load too soon, “Yeah?” He breathes.
You nod and inch closer, “Mhm.”
“Bet that got you all hot ‘nd bothered, huh?” Geto whispers, cocking his head to the side before placing a hand to your waist and holding you tenderly, “That’s why you said somethin’ right? Cause y’like watchin’ me like this?”
Your eyes were on his lips now and you’d half-heard everything he just said, shrugging out a little, “Maybe…” In response before your lips are finally on his.
Geto can’t even control the groan that pours out of him while his lips move over yours, tongue slotting into your mouth and hand squeezing onto your waist as if to tell you not to move.
The kiss doesn’t even last that long before he’s letting out a whine as his cockhead brushes against your body, “Fuck-, enough of this teasin’, I need you princess.”
★ Gojo Satoru
You were going to take it upon yourself to ask your husband how he jerks off when you’re not around but instead of answering your text with an explanation like a normal person— he sends you a video.
Unfiltered, less than a second after clicking on the video, you’re met with his glistening cock on your screen. Slicked with spit and precum trailing along his veins, a pretty pink tip twitching for some attention, and a bright flash from his cellphone giving you the perfect view of his lower half.
You’d be lying if you said you didn’t squeeze your legs together as soon as you started the video. Then there’s his voice that you hear about five seconds in.
“Wanted to see how I jerk off, huh? Dirty girl,” Oh his tone was low with you, the sound filling your ears as you bat your lashes and gulped. Thank god for your headphones, despite being home alone, because you could hear every little sound. “You’re lucky I was already in the middle of it when you texted, y’know.”
Although he can’t hear you, you scoff, “Slut.”
“Got’ this hard thinkin’ about you,” Gojo whispers suddenly, his slender fingers wrapping around his cock carefully, “I miss you, pretty girl,” His words and the way he’s slowly touching himself for you has your body hot and it’s only been a few seconds.
Pulling your bottom lip in between your teeth, your eyes narrow on his hand— how tenderly it slides up and up until he reaches his tip, the way his thumb runs in between the slit of his cockhead and he lets out a hiss.
Then his hand lowers and the sound that follows is so wet, “Fuuck, I wish it was you touchin’ me right now. You always make me feel s’good,” Gojo pants unintentionally, “Miss your lips on me too. How long’s it been? A week? Fuckin’ hate leavin’ you for work…”
You chuckle lightly at his moment of rambling but the way his hand picks up in speed ever so slightly has your smile fading and your focus returning. Sometimes you wonder how he even fits inside you— his cock is so long and from his base to his tip, he looks like he’d split you open (he does).
Your thighs are squeezing together again and you’re starting to miss him the more you watch, the vivid and deep sound of Gojo humming your name causing a chill to slip down your spine.
And you swear you were about to get to the best part of the video he’s sent because his hand was moving at a quickened pace but you’re interrupted by an incoming video call from the man in question.
You practically jump out of your skin due to your ringtone before you scramble to answer it.
Batting your eyelashes as the call connects, you swallow hard, “H-Hello-“
“Knowin’ you’re watchin’ that video isn’t enough f’me,” Gojo huffs out— now he’s got the camera propped up for you and you can see most of his body.
His shirt is long gone, same with his sweats, his legs are spread far and wide, hard and throbbing cock standing straight up as his hand tugs at it in needy little pulls. Gojo’s got his head tossed back and you have the clearest view of his sweaty Adam’s apple, a slip of sweat sliding down along his chest.
He’s panting like crazy and his hand is fucking his cock much more aggressively than he was in that video you’d been watching, “Show me somethin’ baby, I fuckin’ need you,” Gojo huffs impatiently as he shifts his head back into place to meet your gaze on his screen.
You gulp, “S-Satoru, I-“
“Please?” He whines so suddenly and it has your pussy throbbing, especially with how he lifts his hips into his hand because of simply looking at your face, “Wanna see somethin’ pretty, show me your pussy, please?”
It's almost embarrassing how fast you move for your needy husband, going to prop your own phone up similar to how he’s done his and then discarding your clothes in a heartbeat.
“Spread yourself apart f’me, baby,” Gojo groans out his instructions and you’re following his every word— parting your legs wider and moving two finds to your cunt to spread your pussy apart for him.
“Mmh, like this, ‘Toru?” You utter with a slightly shaky hand and an embarrassed expression.
You see the way Gojo’s jaw sinks a little and how his brows furrow as he fists his cock faster, almost eagerly, “Juus’ like that, sweetheart-, fuck. I miss bein’ inside you,” Gojo says before tilting his head to really study your cunt, “Look how wet y’re f’me ‘nd I’m not even there, shit.”
You’ve got your pointer and ring finger holding your cunt open and you shift your middle finger to give yourself the slightest bit of relief, “It’s cause of your video..”
“Yeah?” Gojo smiles, “Y’liked watchin’ me jerk off?”
His hand slows, palm steadily traveling down along his shaft as a whine leaves him. Your pretty pussy on full display for him and making his balls twitch. He wanted to be fucking you full of him so badly.
“Uhuh,” Your softer tone hits his ears and Gojo grunts.
“Shiiit,” He breathes out before biting his bottom lip. He’d started to drool without even realizing it and his cock was dripping in cum already, “Look at that pussy leak f’me-, holy fuck.” Your husband moans, “My voice get you like this too?”
You’ve started to tease yourself with merely one finger and you can’t move your eyes away from his needy cock, “M-Mhm…” You hum.
“Aww, baby…” Gojo coos. Then you were slipping two fingers into yourself and trying your best to get off along with him, “Look at your fingers tryin’ t’please you like how I do,” He cracks a smile, “Doesn’t feel the same, does it?”
Shaking your head, “N-No, ‘Toru. I need you.”
“Hahh, need you too baby,” Gojo moans, hand picking back up. The faintest plp plp plp followed his movements as bits of cum dripped from his cockhead and onto the floor, “Look at how fuckin’ hard I am cause of you.” He huffs just before glancing down to himself.
Ah, he was making a mess but he was a bit too dazed with arousal to pay any mind to it right now.
You bite your lip and hum before tipping your head back and shutting your eyes, “Mmmh…”
“M’gonna get home and fuck you til’ we both pass out, I swear.” Gojo huffs. His voice is airy and his hand is getting a bit messy now.
Your lips part and you exhale heavily, “Can’t wait.”
“Yeah? Y’can’t wait huh?” Your husband grunts, practically fucking his cock up into his hand at this point, “Maybe I’ll get ya' pregnant so I have an excuse not t’leave you like this.”
Your legs start to close a little and you moan, “Satoru, m-mgh…”
“Fuck, m’gonna cum,” He groans pornographically into the air, “Wish I was cummin’ inside you, fuckin’ you nice ‘nd full, watchin’ you make a mess on me-, hahh… agh…” His lips quiver a bit as he gets close and he’s panting so hard that the camera is starting to fog up a little.
“T-Toru,” You whine for him— missing him oh so desperately now that you’re nearing your own orgasm.
“Yeah, mhm, m’here baby,” Gojo chants, breath heavy and hand jolting up and down his cock fervently, “C’mon, cum with me. You can do it f’me pretty girl.”
You’re nodding, he’s nodding— both of you are getting there together and whining each other’s names. Gojo’s veins are popping up on his hand with how tightly his gripping onto his cock and his mouth hangs open, eyelids heavy and vision blurring while he moans your name.
“Miss you so fuckin’ much,” Gojo groans finally before he glances to his phone to see you releasing all over your fingers— the sight leads him to cum right then and there with his kegs trembling slightly.
Fuck, he needed to get home soon.
★ Nanami Kento
You were surprised to walk in on your boss jerking off.
“Oh fuck,” Echoed into the air, his voice thick with lust as he hadn’t even noticed you’d entered his office yet.
With the way his desk was, you could see everything. His muscular thighs parted like a damn slut, cock barely tugged out of his slacks, big veiny hand working to bring himself to an orgasm.
Truth be told, it’s your fault he’s like this— his cute lil’ assistant, walking around in those tight ass skirts he’s asked you not to wear thousands of times over again. And yet you do it anyway. Maybe because you know where it gets you with your boss or maybe because you wanted a situation exactly like this.
Sure, he’s your boss but he’s also the same man that fucks you til’ you can’t walk straight whenever you request him to do so.
But this? Well, you’ve never been so aroused by walking in on a man pleasing himself before. It had to be his deep groans of your name or even the size of his cock and how it exceeded the size of his hand, how you could picture your own hands around it and how you know your hands would be so pale in comparison.
Nanami’s got his eyes shut and he’s huffing and puffing through his nose, chest rising and falling rapidly the more he stokes his cock. All he can think about is you and the way you bent over in front of him less than thirty minutes ago.
He had half a mind to call you into his office and tell you to bend over his desk the same way— thinking of fucking your tight cunt til’ you’re making too much noise and he has to shove two thick fingers in your mouth to shut you up.
“Fuuck,” It’s rare you even hear him curse so to hear his mouth so vulgar now has you swallowing hard before you lock his office door with a slight click following.
His eyes bat open and he doesn’t bother stopping because he already knew it was you who’d walked in, you’re the only one who does so without knocking.
“Sir?” You utter gently, making his face twist up in arousal.
“Here, now.” Is all he can grunt out to you.
You’re moving toward him obediently with your panties soaking the closer you get. “Mr.-“
“Kento,“ He utters, “Please, fuck-, just… hahh, say my name, sweetheart.”
“Kento,” You correct in a sultry tone, “I didn’t know you were… occupied in here. What if someone else walked in-“
Nanami rolls his eyes at you and then lets off a scoff, “No one but you would,” He huffs, “Now get on my desk.”
You freeze as you find yourself standing right beside his desk, “What?”
“Don’t make me repeat myself-, just…” He trails off a little once his eyes meet yours and you watch his lashes flutter while his brows pinch together, “Oh fuck, I need… hah, fuuck.”
You chew on your bottom lip before smirking and stepping past his desk, closer to him, “Need what, Ken? Get it out…” You whisper.
“Damn vixen,” Nanami groans as he tosses his head back.
Glancing down at his cock, you watch as his tip grows a bit white— cum peeping out from his fat cockhead and making you swallow thickly.
You then look back up to his face and start leaning down, placing your hands on the armrests of his chair to keep yourself up before uttering, “Do you want me to touch you?”
His response is instant, “God, yes.”
“How?” You murmur with a smirk, shifting your legs so that they straddle one of his, “How do you want me to touch you?”
Nanami opens his eyes and yet again and he grunts at how ridiculously close you are to him, “Anywhere.”
You tease, “Anywhere?”
“Yes, hurry up,” Nanami pleads. His voice nearly went desperate for you and you swore you heard something needy underlining in his tone.
Playing off of that, “Needy are we?” You comment before seating yourself on his thigh.
“Yes,” He gulps and begins to stammer while your arms wrap around his neck, “J-Just-“
Oh he can’t even finish his request before your lips are pressing into his neck and he’s groaning loudly. Cock aching for you whilst your lips move along his tensed skin. Each kiss from you earned groan after groan from him, the sound vibrating against his throat and his hand squeezing his cock tighter.
“Fuck,” Nanami curses yet again as you kiss below his sharp jawline.
“You’re one naughty man, y’know. Did you want me to catch you like this?” You murmur against his warm skin, feeling the way he tenses up to your voice.
Nodding and humming a carefully little, “Mhm,” In response, Nanami’s completely at your mercy now, silently begging for you to continue down the path you’re on.
You smile and glance down to his hand still working his cock, cunt clenching around nothing the longer you stare, “Ken…”
“Y-Yes?” He stutters a bit and mentally curses himself for it— he knows you’ll tease him more about it later.
Planting another kiss beneath his jaw, you chuckle, “You’re drippin’ onto the floor,” You utter so seductively that he just groans and throws his head back again. “Makin’ suuch a big mess all because of… what? Hm?”
“You,” He huffs, “You and that… that fucking skirt,” Nanami says through gritted teeth.
“Well,” You whisper with a slight smile still on your face, “If you have a problem with it you can always take it off of me.”
His free hand is gripping onto your waist faster than you have time to react and you let out a slight noise in surprise. Nanami’s lifting his head and angling himself to your neck, lips latching onto you as he lets out a groan like a man starved.
“Yeah?” He hushes out.
Then he’s pushing you back slightly and releasing his cock, both of you soon shoved to your feet with how quick and swift his movements are. He has you stumbling backwards until you bump into his desk and then there’s a hand grabbing at the side of your neck, tugging you into a deep kiss.
It’s hot and heavy, even as he pulls away from you and pants, lifting a thumb to drag your lower lip down, “Lay back and spread your legs for me then,” Nanami murmurs in that deep tone of his.
You gulp, “Sir, I-“
He cuts you off by slipping his thumb into your mouth, “You said I could get that skirt off of you. Don’t go back on your word and do as I said.”
Gazing at him for a singular moment longer, you lift yourself onto his desk and start parting your legs for the man. His thumb leaves your mouth and his finger is slightly wet as he places his palms to your thighs, slipping his grasp up to your hips and beneath that skirt of yours.
The fabric starts bundling up at you hips and you let out a sigh as you lean your upper half back.
Then, Nanami moves to tug at his tie and sends you a look of warning, “And don’t be too loud like last time… You don’t want others to hear how much of a slut you are behind closed doors, right?”
You release a scoff, “Says the man who was jerking off in his office.”
He freezes before smiling slightly, “Touché.”
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2K notes · View notes
januaryembrs · 21 hours
Text
JUST A THEORY | Spencer Reid x Reader
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Request: congratulations on 2k!!! you deserve that and so much more your writing is incredible! 🥳🥳🥳 if I could jump in with a request could I ask for a Spencer x reader fic where the reader is a journalist/reporter looking into a case as well and they cross paths? I think the tension and bickering would be so fun
Description: There's something about that agent Jennifer brought along with her that pushes every single one of your buttons
Length: 1.6k
warnings: general cm violence, probably not em's best work
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“You know this could be considered obstructing a federal investigation,” Spencer huffed, trying to look over your shoulder where you skimmed the book in your hands with meticulous eyes. You ignored him, continuing to read the information despite feeling his burning glare in the back of your head, his breath on your neck as he shadowed your figure around the building. 
“You know the best part about a public library, Doctor Reid? It’s public,” You drawled back, your eyes never ripping from the page except to make a few notes of some key information for your article, “Which means I have every right to be in here just as much as you do,”
You heard him run a hand over his face and tried not to smirk at how easy he was to agitate. You’d heard a lot about the BAU, almost every criminology based paper in Virginia had, and so it wasn’t too surprising to meet the brains behind the reputation when three women had been murdered in the FBI’s home town. Every press association that was worth their money was all over the story, ‘How could this have happened so close to the capital in a city crawling with agents?’, which made your job just that bit more competitive and taxing. 
Yet luckily for you, you knew exactly where to go snooping for answers. It just so happened, the BAU’s resident genius did too.
“I guarantee it would be easier for both of us if you just give me the book first. I can read ten times faster than you,” He snipped, still a pup at your heels where you wandered through the aisles of non-fiction, the white lettering hanging above the shelves spelling PSYCHOLOGY. You rolled your eyes at his persistence, ignoring his attitude as you rounded the corner at the end of the row and looped back to where you’d picked up the book, the man still over your shoulder. 
“Didn’t your mother ever tell you you’re not supposed to talk in libraries?” You hissed back, flicking the page over and hearing his footsteps move in tandem with your own, “I guess you’re just going to have to wait and let the professionals work,” 
You hid a grin, hearing him pause at that, remembering the first day you’d been assigned the story. 
It started only a week ago. The newest victim had been found in the woods, stabbed seven times the same as the other two, her entire body washed in strong bleach, her hair and nails trimmed and ears even swabbed clean. You’d managed to get five minutes to sit with her parents, your pen and trusted notebook at the ready. 
“Why don’t you tell me about what Clara was like as a kid?” You said softly, eyes comforting and calm as you spoke over coffee that was quickly going cold. But you didn’t care. 
You didn’t do this part for ‘the story’. At least not the end of the story, the gory bits and pieces that the other news anchors focused on, how the women were brutalised and beaten, changed by a murderer until they looked unrecognisable. You didn’t like to focus on that, because that wasn’t who the victims were. 
You wanted to tell their story. Who they were before something awful happened to them. 
“She loved to dance,” Clara’s mother, Gwen, sniffled, her cheeks sodden with salted tears. Her voice quivered, croaked like it begged not to be used, but the saddest smile spread on her face when she said it, her husband’s hands clasped tightly in her own, “She used to ask to wear her leotard to bed; we couldn't get that thing off her,” 
You smiled, eyes falling to the pictures the parents had spread across the table in their haste to find the best one for the missing posters. Gwen seemed to follow your eyeline and grabbed one in particular, handing it over to you, gently thumbing the edges like that too might disappear. A little girl, black hair as silken as fresh ink stared back at you, her hands poised delicately above her head like the professional ballerina’s you'd seen on TV, her feet laced into pink pumps. The way she should be remembered, not the images you’d seen of her at the crime scene. 
You opened your mouth to speak again when two agents entered the room. Jennifer Jareau, who you’d worked with on multiple stories like this one to give the families the empathy they deserved, smiled at you civilly, somewhat guilty knowing she was stepping on your toes. Beside her stood a taller man in a matching FBI jacket, his hazelnut curls falling over his frown. 
“Mr and Mrs Townsen,” He addressed the couple solemnly, who looked up at him through red rimmed eyes, their sockets sallow and empty, “We need to ask you a few questions about the last few days you saw Clara before she went missing,”
He flashed his credentials in his right hand, long enough for them to see it was real, and looked to you with a stern stare. 
The couple glanced back to you, the picture still grasped tightly in your fingers, as you flicked a tight look between Jennifer and the new agent carefully. 
“Just one moment,” You told the grieving parents softly, handing the picture back to Gwen, standing to move to one side with the analysts, immediately turning towards Jennifer with confusion, “I thought you said I had until twelve?”
“I’m sorry, I wouldn’t interrupt if it wasn’t important,” The liaison said cordially, the two of you somewhat acquaintances after emailing back and forth for so long. She liked that you didn’t see the bodies as dollar signs, and you liked that she wanted the same as you; to tell the victims stories the way they should be told. 
Sighing, you wrapped up your notepad, delicately pushing the pen through the wire spine. “Can I get an interview with the second family at least? Daily Press was all over that story, and they made an absolute joke of it,” 
“That’s a little hypocritical of you,” The other agent piped up, and your head snapped to him. Eyes roving over his figure, brows furrowing when you realised what he’d said. You looked back to his face in annoyance. 
“Excuse me?” You snipped, crossing your arms over your chest, your notepad brushing against your ribs. 
“I’m just saying, you all get paid for what you write, so it's just as exploitive to write about the victims than it is to write about the crimes,” He shrugged, eyes narrowing when you shifted your weight onto your other foot and raised a brow at him. 
“Unlike you,” Your gaze fell to his badge he still had to hand, “Doctor Reid, I see those women as real people, not just little pictures on a white board. They’re not just dead girls to me, and they’re certainly not just money grabs,” 
Spencer went to retaliate again before JJ put a hand on both your elbows, drawing the attention away from your little spat. 
“We can talk about this later, right now we have an UnSub on the loose that is quickly devolving,” She chided the two of you like you were school children, and you sighed, biting your cheek to stop yourself from snapping back at the man. 
“What does that mean?” You asked quietly, well aware of the grieving parents sitting little more than a few yards from where you stood bickering. 
“It means you’re going to have to wait and let the professionals work,” Spencer cleared, pushing past your shoulder as he went to sit with the Townsens, his eyes swirling into something new and kind and reassuring as he looked at them, a Jekyll and Hyde to the hostility he had towards you. 
You could only suck your teeth in annoyance, before Jennifer pulled you further into the dining room to discuss rearrangements. 
Spencer blanked as he watched you skim reading the textbook, his own words thrown back in his face in an infuriatingly clever move on your part. With little more to say, knowing wit and barking orders would get him nowhere because he couldn’t exactly arrest you for not giving him public property, he resorted to begging.
“Please, give me the book,” He said, the desperation buried in his sigh, and you swivelled on your heels, a devilish grin on your face that had him fighting back an eye roll. 
“Oh, would you look at that? I’m finished,” You said, handing him the files you were reading, passing them over to him with a smirk and he found himself almost smiling at your sarcasm.
Taking the book out of your hand, he debated saying thank you, but instead bit his lip because he'd found you were somewhat incorrigible when you were getting deeper in a story. 
Turning on his heels to check out the book so he could take it back to headquarters, he stopped when you spoke, just a few decibels louder than the ‘Talk Quietly’ sign demanded. 
“Agalmatophilia,” You murmured, and he whipped a look over his shoulders where you were skimming the shelves for a second textbook, seeing as your first one had been commandeered, “The sexual attraction to dolls and mannequins. I know you guys speculated he has some form of OCD but I think it's Agalmatophilia,” You said, drawing a book off the shelf without really looking up to where his brow furrowed in familiarity with the word. He glanced at you then, and you flicked open the page of contents, feeling his eyes boring into the side of your head, muttering under your breath absent-mindedly, “Just a theory,” 
You’d shut him up the entire way back to headquarters. 
269 notes · View notes
ham1lton · 1 day
Text
WELCOME TO MIAMI
pairings: (platonic) oscar piastri x reader.
summary: after the miami grand prix, you and some of your fellow drivers go out for karaoke and drinks for ‘bonding’ according to a certain lando norris.
warnings: mentions of alcohol and strip clubs. also you pretend to be oscar’s wife and there is mentions of alleged infidelity but it’s obviously fake.
author’s note: this is slightly long but i promise you it’s worth the read. this is my apology for being inactive due to uni so let me know if you enjoyed! also i made the meme at the end and i’m proud of myself so cheer me on :D
— part of the maneater series ꕤ.
“i’m just not in the mood lando.” you throw yourself onto your very comfortable hotel bed. the sheets were soft and pillowy, are these thousand thread sheets? you don’t know what they were but they sound fancy. you flip yourself onto your back. “karaoke sounds awful right now. i need to be alone to drown my sorrows.”
“don’t be so dramatic y/n.” you can practically hear george’s eyeroll through the phone. he’s snatched lando’s phone for himself now. “this’ll be good for you.”
“i lost embarrassingly to max, it was the worst race of my entire career! i don’t deserve to celebrate or have fun.”
“you got p4.” george’s voice is deadpan. “get out of your hotel room, stop wallowing and i’ll get logan to pick you up.”
“why me?” logan asks in the background. “get an uber maneater!”
“she won’t come if no one forces her!” he’s right, you think bitterly. you would have ignored the uber even if the driver came up to your hotel room door and knocked five times. even if he opened the door and threw a bucket of cold water on your head and then threatened oscar’s life.
you knew why logan had to be the one to pick you up. it couldn’t be george. he’s annoyed you recently. he beat you to getting the podium today. it couldn’t be lando because he’s supporting george’s antics of dragging you out. it couldn’t be alex because he didn’t text his girlfriend to ask her about where she got her cute t-shirt that she wore on his recent instagram dump. you really liked that t-shirt. “logan is on his way. we’re giving you thirty minutes and if you’re not outside, i’m calling sebastian.”
“NO!”
“YES!” before you can try and rebuttal his statement, he’s hung up on you. well, there is no way you’re going out so george russell and his clique can shove that up their asses. you open netflix, and get yourself ready for a quiet night in.
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one hour later, you found yourself at the karaoke bar that the guys had rented out for the night. logan running up to you, swinging the car’s rental keys around his fingers.
“i want you to know,” you breathed out, giving him the side-eye. “i hate this. i truly do.”
“i know.” logan nodded.
“i hate you.”
“know that too.” logan nodded again. “which isn’t fair really. this isn’t my fault.”
“fine. i hate you and all of them.” you gestured at the karaoke bar where lando had already gotten a few shots in his system and was belting out a britney song. “god. this is a bastardisation of a classic.”
“you know lando.” logan shrugged, opening the door for you. “after you.”
“since when were you a gentleman?”
“since i was about 76% sure that if you didn’t go before me, you’d order an uber and go straight back to the hotel.”
“i was thinking that.”
george is already slightly drunk when he spots you, opening his arms wide at your entrance. alex is sipping on a bottle of imported beer. very pretentious.
“maneater!” george grins. “the party don’t start till she walks in!”
oscar looks like he’s already regretting this. oscar and you had been best friends ever since you realised you both had a low tolerance for bullshit. you roll your eyes at george who pretends to pout but uses it as an excuse to order more shots.
“did they drag you out too?” oscar nods, like every movement pains him. “you want something to drink?”
“no. i’m hungry.”
“i think the only place open right now besides here is a strip club.”
“they have food?”
“let’s google.” after a few searches on your phone you find out the strip club has a menu. “apparently they serve chicken wings and fries.”
“let’s go.”
“wait!” you grab oscar’s arm. “you can’t go to a strip club! think about the optics or something. the media will spin it like ‘crazy f1 sex-addicted rookie’. is that what you want your legacy to be?”
“i won’t have a legacy if i starve to death.” oscar rolls his eyes. then he turns to logan. “throw me your rental keys logan, maneater and i are going to the drive-thru.”
“no.” george says sternly. as sternly as one can be while slightly drunk and a shirt that loses a button every ten minutes. how was it looser than it was two seconds ago? “you can’t leave. if you leave, you won’t come back.”
“okay?” oscar raised an eyebrow. “we’re grown george. you can’t keep us here.”
“one song and you can go.”
“that’s ridiculous.”
“one song. that’s all i’m asking.” george raises his hands. “then you can leave. unless, you’re too chicken.”
“i’m very much chicken. bye.” oscar gets up to leave before you stop him.
“c’mon. one song isn’t a bad compromise and we’re already here.” you shrug. “might as well.”
“you can do it. i’ll watch.” you stick your tongue out at oscar’s reluctance.
“lando, will you do it with me?”
“sure as long as i’m choosing the song!” lando grins as oscar gives you both the side eye. you weren’t much of an adrenaline junkie off the track and in private, you were very different to the maneater persona you would show in public. lando chooses nelly furtado’s ‘promiscuous’ but he sings her parts and you sing timbaland’s. you kill it, if you do say so yourself.
as soon as you’re done, oscar holds up the keys to the rental that logan had brought you in and you follow him out on your search for dinner. as you and oscar make your way to the car, you realise that the only place open for food at this hour is, unfortunately, that strip club down the street.
"you're kidding, right?" oscar gives you a disbelieving look.
you shrug. "hey, they serve food and you’re hungry. desperate times call for desperate measures."
with a reluctant sigh, oscar unlocks the car and you both climb in. you arrive at the strip club, the neon lights flashing in the night. as you enter, you can't help but feel a little out of place amidst the scantily clad dancers and dimly lit atmosphere.
“we're not staying for the show," you say firmly to oscar as you approach the bar.
"i wasn’t trying to," oscar looks around warily.
the smell of greasy food wafts over from the corner where a small kitchen is tucked away.
"we're really doing this," you mutter to oscar as you make your way to the bar.
"yep," he replies, already scanning the menu for chicken wings.
before you can order, a vivacious stripper saunters over, batting her eyelashes at oscar. "hey there, handsome. looking for some company?"
oscar looks taken aback for a moment before he quickly recovers. "uh, actually, we’re just here for the food. we heard you do… food?"
the stripper arches an eyebrow skeptically. "sure you are hun. what's your story, then?"
you jump in, trying to come up with a believable excuse. "we’re... celebrating our anniversary! yeah, that’s it. we wanted to do something wild, and crazy and spontaneous."
oscar nods, playing along. "exactly. seven years together, can you believe it?"
“you look so young.”
“she keeps me young.” oscar winks and then immediately regrets it. he turns slightly pink.
the stripper eyes you both suspiciously. "hmm, anniversary, huh? and you're at a strip club?"
you nod enthusiastically. "yep! we’re... adventurous like that."
the stripper shakes her head, clearly not buying it. "uh-huh."
you turn to oscar, a mischievous glint in your eye before turning and pouting at the stripper. "he cheated on me, you know."
oscar’s eyes widen in confusion. "wait, what?"
you nod solemnly. "yeah, with my yoga instructor. can you believe it? i guess that’s what happens when you let another girl bend your man over.”
the stripper scoffs, shaking her head. "honey, now why would you take a cheater to a strip club? that's like taking a carnivore to the butchers.”
oscar jumps in, eager to exonerate his fake persona. "actually, she cheated on me too!"
the stripper raises an eyebrow. "oh, really?"
"yeah, with my dentist," oscar deadpans. “imagine how i felt… lying on the chair getting my tooth drilled into while my wife was at home getting a different hole drilled.”
“well, you cheated with the milkman!”
“he gave me something you never could.” oscar sniffs.
“milk?”
“no. love.”
“i’ll get that order started for you.” she gives you both the side-eye. “i’ll leave you two lovebirds with your marriage issues. you need anything else give one of us a shout.”
you and oscar turn to each other and laugh.
“DENTIST?” you giggle. “couldn’t you have picked a sexier profession for me to cheat on you with?”
oscar chuckles, shaking his head. "hey, a cheating dentist is funny."
“fair point. but a milkman? really?"
"i had to think fast!" oscar defends himself. "i didn’t get time to prepare."
"true," you agree, wiping away tears of laughter. "i just hope our story doesn't end up in the tabloids."
oscar shrugs. "eh, if it does, at least it'll be entertaining."
you both continue to joke and laugh as you wait for your food.
"who knew a trip to a strip club could be so much fun?" you smile as you eat. the food was good at least.
oscar grins back. "only with you, y/n. only with you."
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afterwards, you go back to meet with logan, lando, alex and george at the karaoke spot. george is singing a dramatic duet with alex to the tune of lady gaga and beyoncé’s ‘telephone’. lando is grinning while filming and logan is just staring, like he’s watching a car crash. too grotesque to look at but too insane to look away.
george spots you and points dramatically, motioning for you to join them. you exchange a look with oscar, both of you knowing that you can't resist the call of the karaoke stage.
as you approach the group, you can't help but notice the absence of one key ingredient: a one direction song.
"hey guys," you say, catching their attention. "this is fun and all, but i think it's time we mix things up a bit."
george raises an eyebrow. "oh yeah? and what did you have in mind?"
"a one direction song," you declare with a grin. “in front of everyone.”
the boys exchange skeptical glances, clearly not convinced.
"we can't do that," logan protests. "it's too... cheesy."
"come on, logan," you coax, giving him your best puppy dog eyes. "you owe me for dragging me here."
“that wasn’t even my decision!” logan sighs, knowing he's been cornered. "but i’ll do it, only if oscar does it too."
you turn to oscar, who looks less than thrilled at the prospect. "come on, oscar. remember that time you forgot my birthday?"
“i was in hospital! i had a reason!”
“still forgot it!”
oscar groans. "fine, i’ll do it. but this better not end up on the internet."
you turn to george and alex, who are watching the exchange with amusement. "you guys in?"
george grins. "i'm always up for a challenge."
alex nods in agreement. "sure, why not? carpe diem and all that.”
lando, of course, is already on board. "let's do it! who’s who?”
“i’ve already thought about it. here me out.” you start. “lando is harry, curly haired and british.”
lando fist-bumps you.
“alex is zayn.”
alex rolls his eyes. “because i’m an asian brit too?”
“okay i didn’t think about that but it kind of fits.” you think. “i meant it because zayn’s obviously the best.”
alex grins, obviously pleased with the flattery. george stares at you, impatiently tapping his foot.
“hurry it up y/n. who am i?”
“liam.” george thinks about it for a moment and then shrugs. “he’s the leader of the group and you created our groupchat and this meetup.”
“i can deal with that.”
“oscar is louis because he has the least amount of lines and i thought he’d appreciate that.” oscar smiles. “logan is niall because… blond.”
“how come they all got actual thought put in to theirs and i’m niall because i’m blond?” logan raises an eyebrow.
“blond was the best i could do on short-notice.” you shrug. “but hey, he’s irish! who doesn’t love the irish?”
“fair point.”
you move over to the machine and start to play ‘kiss you’ by one direction. as the familiar beats fill the karaoke bar, you can't help but feel a surge of excitement. this is going to be epic, whether oscar likes it or not.
oscar, looking less than thrilled, reluctantly takes his place on stage, shooting you a glare that says, "you owe me big time for this."
logan, standing awkwardly beside him, shifts uncomfortably, clearly not used to being the center of attention. you give him an encouraging smile, silently urging him to embrace the moment. you’re only a f1 driver/one direction cosplayer once, right?
lando, fully embracing his role as harry, struts to the front of the stage, oozing charisma and charm. alex, begrudgingly accepting his role as zayn, follows suit, trying his best to channel the brooding bad boy persona.
george, ever the showman, takes center stage as liam, belting out the lyrics with gusto. despite his initial reluctance, even oscar starts to get into the groove.
as for logan, well, he may not be the most enthusiastic performer, but he's giving it his all, his awkwardness somehow adding to the charm of the performance.
you, meanwhile, stand off to the side, phone in hand, filming the entire spectacle. this is going straight to your social media, no doubt about it.
as the song reaches its climax, the entire group comes together in perfect harmony, their voices blending seamlessly as they sing their hearts out. it may not be the most polished performance, but it's definitely one for the books. as the final notes fade away, the bar erupts into cheers and applause, and you can't help but feel a sense of joy as your friends amble off the stage and you all head out into the cool night.
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liked by bestie1, logan.priv and 32 others.
maneater.priv: shoutout miami for having so many foreign babes 😋
view 34 comments.
bestie1: who are the foreign babes you speak of? i just see a bunch of white dudes and alex.
-> maneater.priv: um actually we have many 🤨 lando and george r british, alex is thai and british and oscar is aussie 😋 in america, they all foreign and logan may not be foreign but he’s a babe.
-> logan.priv: nicest y/n comment. possibly the y/n comment of all time actually.
oscar.priv: delete the last slide.
alex.priv: lily said she’s gonna text you the link to that shirt you liked.
-> maneater.priv: i knew i liked you for a reason.
oscar.priv: i know you see these (your full government name). DELETE.
lando.priv: how did you go to a strip club with oscar before me??
-> maneater.priv: me, u and vegas. we’ll go crazy.
-> lando.priv: YIPPEEE 😁😁
oscar.priv: blocking you btw.
george.priv: told u that you’d have fun!!!
-> maneater.priv: sorry i can’t agree with a man. ruins my street cred.
-> george.priv: what street cred?
-> maneater.priv: DELETE!!!!
-> oscar.priv: speaking of things that need to be deleted… delete the last slide 🙄
-> maneater.priv: no :D
oscar.priv: how would u feel if i shipped u with another driver?
-> maneater.priv: that depends… is he a hot one?
-> oscar.priv: no.
-> lando.priv: 😔
-> george.priv: stop being mean to lando oscar.priv.
-> oscar.priv: he deserves it.
-> george.priv: 213.40.205.53
-> oscar.priv: i hate it here.
240 notes · View notes
confusionmeisss · 1 day
Text
can you watch my boyfriend, please? - c. sturniolo
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🫧 chris sturniolo x fem!reader
🫧 the “can you babysit my boyfriend” tiktok couples trend with chris!!
🫧 this is just fluff. there is the use of “y/n” apologies. some swears. that’s about it.
🫧 548 words.
🫧 hi lovelies!! thank u for wanting to read!!!! :) i’ve been seeing tons of videos of this trend & i was inspired. i thought it would fit chris soo well! i hope u enjoy reading bc this was very fun to write!! <3
Chris was sitting at the kitchen table, sipping idly on a capri sun and scrolling away on his phone. He was blissfully unaware of his surroundings, he didn’t even hear the sound of your footsteps approaching.
Chris looks up when he hears your voice.
“Hey guys, can you watch my boyfriend for me, please? I’ll be back quick, I promise, I just need to go and grab something.
Chris watches you say, smiling at your phone camera, propping it up against the vase of tulips. He looks up at you confused, but you just place a kiss in his hair and smile once more at the camera before leaving the kitchen.
“Uhm,” Chris mumbles out, looking confusedly at the camera.
His confusion only lasts a moment though before he starts speaking. “So I was up late last night, and I stumbled upon this video about analog horror and liminal spaces and the backrooms and such. And then I found this one guys youtube channel and I’ve been binging his videos since like three am. Dude, the backrooms are fucking freaky. I just know they would make Nick paranoid as fuck, so I definitely have to show them to him,” he says with a laugh.
He reaches for his capri sun. “Oh! I’ve been on such a capri sun kick for the past like week. Pepsi is still my number one though,” he says, making a heart with his hands.
“Hey, how do people make the heart with their fingers? Y/N can do it, and she’s tried teaching me, but I just can’t seem to get it!” Chris huffs out, attempting to make a heart with his fingers. He stares down at them trying to bend them into the shape he’s seen you do multiple times.
He lets out a huff, looking back up at the camera, and letting his hands fall onto the table. “See, I just can’t seem to get it!”
“Oh! Oh! We went out to eat yesterday for dinner, and,” Chris cuts himself off with a little giggle, “and we witnessed this guy scrape all the toppings off his pizza and then stack the pieces up on the tray. I’ve never in my twenty years seen someone do that!”
Chris looks up when hears you approaching.
You lean over his shoulder. “Hey, I’m back, thanks for watching him guys. I hope he wasn’t too much trouble.”
Chris looks up at you offended by this statement, but you just smile down at him, and place a hand in his hair, reaching with the other to end your recording.
comments
the way chris had to assure us that pepsi was still his number one beverage choice 😭
pls let us babysit him again, he was very well behaved. just talked our ears off, 10/10 very pleasant 😁
not chris wanting to show nick the backrooms knowing he’d be paranoid by them 😭
someone did what with their pizza????
capri suns are 🔥🔥🔥
him trying to do the finger heart is so 🥺💕
don’t worry chris, i too, cannot do the finger heart
his giggleeee 💞💞💞
how to be in a relationship like chris & y/n no borax no glue
they’re such cuties 🥰
the way she is with him 🥺 oh i want that badddd
267 notes · View notes
miley1442111 · 1 day
Note
hi! can you do something with aaron and like a younger next-door neighbour and they're kinda secretly and newly dating and something with Jack goes wrong and reader helps fix it so aaron is just so in love and asks if he can tell jack and it's just super fluffy and cute!
Anyway, thank you so much, i love your writing!!!!
i love this idea so much!
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telling him- a.hotchner
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a/n: i got nothin.
summary: jack can't go to school, so you swoop in and become aaron's hero, he asks two pretty important questions.
pairing: aaron hotchner x reader
warnings: none
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Aaron didn’t know what to do with himself. He’d left the BAU. Jack was 11. He had a pre-teen who he’d just moved across the country and changed his entire life. 
What the fuck were they doing in San Francisco?
Aaron was a lecturer now, on law in Stanford. Jack attended a new school, much to his dismay. 
And then there was you. The gorgeous woman who lived next door to them. You were a lecturer as well, nuclear physics but you were often mistaken for a student, considering you were only 25. You’d been very kind to him since he started work there, and even had had them over for dinner a couple of times. 
--------------------------------
“I don’t wanna go!” Jack exclaimed, arms crossed. 
“Jack, I have work in 45 minutes, my students are taking the bar exam, and you know your babysitter is out of town, you have to go to school,” he sighed, feeling helpless. Doing this alone had been the hardest part. He had to leave the family he had, the entire team, and his life behind.
“But they’re mean!” he sobbed into his dad’s chest. “They make fun of me for not having a mom…” 
Aaron’s heart broke. He didn’t want to send his kid into school if he was being bullied, and he made a mental note to speak to his teachers. 
“Hey guys,” your kind voice filled the house from downstairs. Aaron had given you a key just a few weeks ago. “Ready to go?” 
Aaron looked at the time on his watch, it was exactly when you all carpooled to school, then work. 
“Up here!” Jack shouted down to you as he cried into his dad’s shoulder, ruining his suit. Aaron could hear your footsteps up the stairs and he braced himself for any judgy looks. 
Judgy looks which never came.
“Poor Jack,” you sighed, rubbing his head. “What’s going on?”
“The kids at school laugh at me because I don't have a mommy anymore,” he cried, getting up and giving you a hug. You sent Aaron an empathetic look and hugged Jack back. 
“That is awful Jack, how about this. You come to work with me and your dad, my lectures don’t start ‘till later so you can hang out with me and I know someone who works at your school, so if you tell me your teacher’s name I can get the lesson plan for today and we can work through it in my office, does that sound good?” 
Jack nodded his head furiously and hugged you harder, his tears subsiding. 
Aaron’s heart could’ve exploded. You were so kind. You two had only been on a few dates in recent weeks, you hadn’t told Jack yet, but you were so caring. 
He mouthed a ‘thank you’ in your direction and you shrugged. ‘It’s the least I can do’. 
Aaron ran into his room, pulling on a new suit jacket to replace the one soiled by Jack’s tears, grabbed his briefcase, and followed you out to the car. You’d called your friend at his school and gotten the information so Jack had his school books in his bag. You drove them to the Stanford campus, explained to your supervisor who told you it was alright, and departed for the day, Jack’s hand in yours. Aaron walked over to his building, and you stayed in yours, sending him updates throughout the day. You made the majority of your lectures for the day either study lectures, or just cancelled lectures so you could keep a close eye on Jack. You even allowed three of your most responsible students to teach Jack some maths. 
At the end of the day, Jack fell asleep on the couch in your office while you were busy cleaning up your lecture hall. 
“Hi honey,” Aaron smiled from the door. 
“Hi love,” you smiled back. “How was your day? Did anyone faint in the exam hall?”
He crossed over to you in three quick strides and pulled you into his arms, kissing you deeply. You were so kind, you’d taken care of Jack all day for him, you’d made him feel less alone in the most isolating time of his life, and you were his. Well, maybe, he hadn’t exactly asked yet. “No one fainted, but a few did vomit before coming in.”
“Poor them,” you sighed. “Jack was fine all day, no issues.”
“Have I told you how wonderful you are?” He smiled and you chuckled. 
“A few times, sure,” you teased. “But I don’t mind hearing it again.”
Aaron smiled and moved one of his hands to cup your cheek. “You’re wonderful.”
You smiled back at him, pecking his cheek. “Well, good thing we have a date on Friday.”
“I want to tell Jack,” He admitted. “About us.”
You nodded. “You’re sure? It’s only been a couple of weeks.”
“I’m sure. He loves you anyways, what’s the worst that can happen?” He asked, pressing kisses to your neck as he spoke. 
“Umm- He could hate both of us because he feels like we’re replacing your and Haley’s relationship, he could start to resent you if we break up, he could hate me, the list goes on-”
“Don’t let it,” he smiled. “I have spent my whole life making calculated and deliberate decisions, even if I knew those choices wouldn’t make me happy. I want to be happy now, with you and Jack,” he admitted. In recent months you’d taught him the value of being slightly selfish, despite his altruistic tendencies. 
“Alright, whatever you say love,” you smiled and kissed him again, then went back to your desk to gather your things. 
“I also want to ask you something,” he stated and when you turned around you saw a bouquet of your favourite flowers in his hands. “Will you be my girlfriend?”
You chuckled softly and smiled, the sweetness of the moment warming your heart. “Yes, Aaron, I will be your girlfriend.”
He grinned when you accepted and his hands wrapped around your waist as he pressed your lips against his  in celebration. 
He was happy, truly happy. For the first time in a long time. 
And it was all thanks to you.
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criminal minds masterlist :)
navigation for my blog :) (criminal minds, obx, the bear, marvel, top gun, the hunger games, challengers :)
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joeshiestyslover · 2 days
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i miss you, i’m sorry- m. sturniolo
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pairing: situationship!matt sturniolo x reader
summary: both you and matt have been miserable for the last week. matt (with the help of nick), realizes he made a mistake and is desperate to win you back.
warnings: language, angst, fluff, nick is a g
masterlist
lowercase intended
a/n: part two of i know it won’t work is finally here!! enjoy 🫶
empty. that’s how you’ve been feeling for the past week. you’ve lost all the motivation you once had. you can barely even get out of bed to take a shower or eat. you feel like complete shit.
you know that ending things with matt was the right thing to do, but why does it feel so wrong? matt has been texting and calling for the past few days, but you haven’t responded, knowing you have to stay strong and not run back to him.
the moment you met matt, you truly believed he was the one. you began to imagine the rest of your life with him, not being able to fathom him not being in it. you never thought, even in your wildest dreams, your relationship with matt would have ended the way it did. you love matt, more than anything in the world, but you can’t put yourself in that position again. matt doesn’t love you the way you love him, and you have to find a way to live with that.
you’re watching modern family in your bedroom when your phone rings next to you. you pick up the phone and see that it’s nick. you don’t want to let what happened with matt affect your relationship with chris and nick, but it’s so hard when they constantly remind you of him. nevertheless, you answer the call with a “hello?” “y/n! hey how are you doing?” nick was always the triplet you were closest with, even while you were with matt. he always checked up on you. “i’m fine.” you answer, but he doesn’t believe it. “you don’t have to lie to me babe. how are you really?” you can feel your eyes start to water. “i’m not okay nick.” you sniffle. “why doesn’t matt want me? i was so sure he did.” you can almost hear nick frown over the phone. “he’s a fucking idiot, y/n. he’s too dumb to see what’s right in front of him. what happened wasn’t your fault i promise.” he assures you. “i just really wanted it to work out.” you wipe your eyes to get rid of the tears, but they continue to fall. “i know hon, but you’ll be okay. you’re the strongest person i know. you’ll get through this.” you nod even though he can’t see you. “yeah you’re right.” “i always am.” you laugh a little at nick’s words. “if you ever need anything, you know you can call me right?” he asks. “yeah i know. thank you nick. for everything.” you respond. “of course y/n. i’ll call you later. i love you.” “i love you too nick.” you say before hanging up.
nick set his phone down on the couch before standing up and walking into matt’s room. he opens the door to see matt lying in bed, just staring at his phone. nick walks towards him and he can see matt looking at pictures of you and him. “matt.” nick begins. matt’s head shoots up before quickly shutting off his phone. “jesus can you knock?” matt snaps at him. “you’re such a dumbass, you know that right?” nick tells him. “what the hell is that supposed to mean?” matt questions. “i can’t believe you were the one that let her go, yet here you are sulking. you have no right to be sad. you fucked everything up with y/n!” nick began to raise his voice. matt doesn’t say anything and just looks down at his lap. “matt? hello? are you listening to me?” nick snaps his fingers to get his attention. “you don’t think i know that i fucked up?!” matt stands up from his bed. “i regret letting her walk out! i regret telling her that i didn’t want to be with her! i regret everything i said to her that day because none of it was true! i love her nick!” matt yells. nick just stands there, shocked at his confession. matt then sighs and sits back down, holding his head in his hands. “i miss her so much, man.” nick walks over and sits down next to him. “then go tell her that. don’t let her go until you let her know how you really feel because that girl is heartbroken because she thinks you don’t love her back.” matt looks up at him. “but what if she doesn’t want me back?” nick stares at matt with sympathy in his eyes. “trust me she will, and even if she doesn’t, at least you’ll know.” matt nods. “you’re right. i’m gonna go over there.” he stands up to change his clothes and grab his keys.
matt walks out the door and into his car. before matt goes to your apartment, he stops at the grocery store to get you your favorite flowers and candy. he pulls into your apartment complex and grabs the flowers and candy before running towards your apartment. once he arrives at your doorstep, he take a deep, shaky breath and knocks.
you’re in your kitchen making something to eat when you hear a knock at your door. you raise an eyebrow before walking over to open it. once you do, you see matt standing in front of you, holding your favorite flowers and candy. you immediately freeze, unsure of what to do or say. “y/n,” matt begins, “can i come in?” you stand to the side, letting matt inside. “umm these are for you.” he hands you the flowers and candy, and you walk over to your kitchen to set them on the counter. “what are you doing here, matt?” you ask in a somewhat cold tone. “i want to apologize for everything i said. i promise i meant none of it.” you just stare at him, saying nothing. “look, i know you probably don’t believe me. i wouldn’t either, but i do mean it when i say i really do want you. i was just scared. relationships honestly terrify me, and i guess i didn’t want to get hurt.” you sigh. “so you chose to hurt me instead?” “y/n, i promise that wasn’t my intention. you put me on the spot and i panicked. i know that we should have talked about it, but i decided to be an asshole and i am so, so sorry baby. i regret every cruel word that i said to you. just please-let me make this right.” matt begs. you think for a few seconds, still unsure if he actually means what he’s saying. “i don’t know matt. what you said hurt me. you hurt me. i trusted you and you threw that away. how can i be sure that you mean what you say? how can i trust you again?” you want to believe him so bad, but you can’t give into him just yet. “i promise i’m gonna do better. i’m gonna treat you the way you deserve. i’ll work every day to be the perfect boyfriend for you because i love you.” your eyes widen in shock. “you what?” you question him, thinking you heard him wrong. matt takes a step towards you. “i love you y/n. i love you so much it hurts. every time i look at you, i feel something i’ve never felt for anyone before.” he puts his hand on your cheeks, “i only want you, now and for the rest of my life. please, please give me this chance.” when he looks into your eyes, you can’t help but melt into his touch. your face softens. “oh matt,” you place your hands on his wrists, “i love you too.” he grins at your words. “really?” you roll your eyes playfully. “of course i do you fucking idiot.” you smile at him. “i’m just making sure because i-” he’s cut off by you pressing your lips against his. matt’s caught off guard, but melts into the kiss. his hands travel down to your waist and squeeze your hips lightly.
you pull away from the kiss and press your forehead against his. you let out a sigh of content. “what is it baby?” matt asks you. you smile and shake your head lightly, “i’m just happy.” he smiles as well before bringing his forehead away from yours. “y/n,” he begins, and you give him a look, silently telling him to go on, “can i be your boyfriend?” he asks, somewhat nervously. you grin, “yes matt you can be my boyfriend.” you look at him with love and affection in your eyes. matt lets out a breath, “okay good because that would have been really embarrassing if you said no.” “shut up.” you tell him before leaning up and kissing him once again, both of you smiling into the kiss.
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dex0s · 1 day
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💋MY DEAD HEART • ZOMBIESukuna X Gn reader WARNING: DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT , NON-con/rape, main character death, cannibalism, humiliation, bad ending, public?, gore, animals, DARK CONTENT, age-gap, small plot/smut, violence mention, lazy ending, not proof read, MDNI 18+
A/N—hello.. how have u been.. that’s good. Bye! *disappears for 4 months*
You had studying subject 01 King of Zombies or what he calls himself Sukuna with some other scientists and as you can imagine it not a pretty sight to see. Like the normal things you would think of a zombie is he will human or animal flesh but yet he can be picky with it or he can do something disturbing to the flesh.
Flashback
You were walk to subject 01/ Sukuna test area. It was a huge metal door about 8ft tall with electrified bar along side with talismans all over.
“Good morning Mx.name” one of the security welcoming you, “you doing a check up on subject 01 today?” Finished the guard.
“Yes you are right. I have to check out what that 01 did with our experiment…” walking towards the door, one of the guards scanned his badge unlocking the door to the lab room. Yet before you could take your first step the other guard turned to you a said, “ I would be care in there even if there’s another door… the night guards told me that they heard some freaky shit coming inside.”
“Well thanks for the warning” you finished, walking in the lab the door closed behind you. Looking at the window in front of you the fake forest seems empty but you know better. Getting closer you can see a deer and when examining closer you can finally see what that disgusting creature did… it fucked the deer to death.
Cum spilling out of it hole, the poor hole was stretched on the unimaginable size, you can also see bites taken revealing the flesh underneath. Writing down this information not knowing the something so sneaking up on you.
*boom*
Quick turning to the sound you can see subject 01 smiling at you and what you assume to be deer blood on his face and hands.
“Do you like my master piece doc?” Sukuna asked. Going back to you notes you continue writing. After a few seconds Sukuna started to get annoyed that you were responding, “you think you can just ignore me doc!? I know you can hear me! Don’t go thinking your better then me, I’m the king and you are the peasant—just wait until I get out of here, you are going to be my first victim!?”
End of Flashback
You still remember the way he spoke to you—hate and disgust. Yet that didn’t stop you from coming back to work. The pay was good and you can live your happy ever after.
Parking in your spot. You walk up to the building, once you give in the doors you see no one at the front desk. Looking a around seeing if you can find someone. You captures something you wouldn’t want to see in a million years.
Over the counter of the desk, there lay a woman with bite marks and a chuck of her head bitten off. “I- what the hell happened here?” You asked yourself. Going around the desk you check the body, yet before that the body started to shake violently. Moving away and hiding you behind the desk. Trying to stay quiet you can hear movement then sudden silence.
Hearing Growling on top of you, quick looking up you can see the “woman” looking down at you with a hungry look. Quickly getting up u run towards a door that requires your key card. Looking back the “woman” is running at you full force.
Scrimmaging through your lab coat you found it. Briskly you open the door and just how quickly it opened it quickly closed. Hearing the bangs behind you. U decided to move away before that thing breaks in. With red lights going off and on you can somewhat see that all the subjects doors are open. Due to that u started to walk quietly. Once you get to subjects 01 door their are body’s littering the floor.
Before u can get away you get slam to the ground. “Look who we have hear” you know that voice… that’s the same voice that said that you would be their first victim. Feeling your clothes getting ripped off u try to break out but you know that wouldn’t happen.
Before you can even start to think Sukuna slam his two cocks in your ass/pussy. Hollering and screaming you kick your feet. Grabbing your feet he saids “I told you that u would be the first and then I will move on to the next women/male/person. Enjoy this time while you can because after this your time will be over”. Moaning in pain you can feel Sukuna bit down on your neck.
Feeling that harsh bite you scream due to the agonizing pain. Not thinking straight you see him eating something. Skin. Your skin. With Sukuna still thrusting in you and the pain from your wound you can feel yourself about the black out.
Around you hearing of feet pattering u see subjects looking at you. Laughing at your pain, laughing at your tears, “look at that you have a little crowd laughing at you” Sukuna mocks you. Not able to hold your bladder is piss on his cock/stomach. “Ew did you just piss on me?!” Making sure the people around you can hear. The laughter starts to get louder and louder.
Crying is all you can do, you can’t yell for help because nobody cares, you can’t get out of Sukuna hold because your weak, feeling your end approaching. you called out forgiveness for your sins hoping that when you see the golden gate that you will be forgiven. Closing your eyes for the last time your ears pick up something…
“see you in hell bitch” was the last words Sukuna said before cumming his load in you.
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lcvclywon · 14 hours
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hurt people, hurt people.
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back to masterlist
synopsis ᯓ You thought you and Heeseung would last forever, well it seemed so as your 3 year relationship was smooth sailing. But that all changed one night when he abruptly ended things between you two. Now it's been a year and you could successfully say you've healed from the breakup, but when you get a call from him the night before he leaves for uni, that statement might not be so set in stone.
now playing > •၊၊||၊|။||||| 0:10 the grudge - olivia rodrigo
warnings ˎˊ˗ cursing, crying, fighting, toxic relationship, heavy heavy HEAVY angst, err no comfort soz i feel evil
genre ⭑.ᐟ angst
pairings: non-idol ex!heeseung x female reader
wc ᵎᵎ 1.21k
thoughts frm yuya 💭 this is me projecting lolz sorry
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Oh for fucks sake. 
You let out a frustrated sigh seeing the caller ID that popped up on your phone. It had been 1 year since you and Heeseung had broken up and quite honestly you were doing great. You had finally healed from ending your 3 year long relationship, you were loving your life, meeting new people, you felt better. But that all came crumbling down when you saw that dreadful notification pop up on your screen.
In all honesty you really should’ve blocked his number, you had done so on every other social media platform, but for some reason you couldn’t really bring yourself to block his number. Whenever you try something simmered in the guts of your stomach stopping you. It was the same sensation you felt whenever you tried to throw away the last letter he had given you for your 3 year anniversary. You had tossed all the other letters, gifts, and sentiments out the second you ended things with him; but you could never bring yourself to throw out that last letter. Perhaps because that would mean Lee Heeseung would truly, permanently, and irrevocably be out of your life for good. But that’s what you wanted…wasn’t it?
Don’t pick up, a small voice in your head whispered. “Hello?”
“I thought you blocked my number” he replied, you could hear him laughing from his nose. Fuck you hated it, you hated it but you wanted to ingrave his laugh into your ribcage. Maybe then you wouldn’t feel so absolutely hollow whenever you forced out a laugh on multiple cafe dates with numerous other men. 
“Well, I obviously didn’t” your voice was still shaky as you let out quivering exhales. Great YN, not even a full 5 minutes into the conversation and you already want to cry. “Why are you calling?” you manage to force out, tone still hesitant. 
“Um-” he started “It’s my last day today, I’m flying out to uni soon…”
You didn’t realise his departure had already arrived. “I know.”
“I just uh-” you could hear from the other end of the line how he cleared his throat, before continuing with a voice mirroring the apprehensiveness of your own “I wanted to apologise, one last time before I leave” 
“Oh…” you mumbled out
“I’m sorry for ending things like that” the moment he said that it all flashed back to you. That night you tried to lock away in the back of your mind suddenly unleashed itself from its cage. To describe your breakup in one word it would be: abrupt. 
“We should end things” Heeseung uttered, leaving you standing there notebooks in hand, mouth agape, and heart absolutely shattered. 
“What are you talking about” you managed to reply with, words choked out and shaking.
“I leave for university next year, I just-” he paused to look down before continuing “I don’t think we could ever be long distance, it’s too much for you and me. You’d still be in highschool and I’d be busy adjusting in uni, it just- I don’t think it’ll work. You were never even really attentive to me when we’re just a few mere minutes away from each other, how could we ever do that long distance?” 
Coward couldn’t even look you in the eyes before breaking your heart. 
“I was, really just an ass-” heeseung continued, snapping you back to the present “you didn’t deserve that and we both know it. I was just- really scared I think, of course that’s not an excuse…but yeah I’m sorry” 
“It’s okay…” it wasn’t 
A beat passes.
Now two. 
You remain in an awkward limbo of deciding between ending the call or continuing the conversation. All the words you had pent up for the past year were on the tip of your tongue just itching to be said, but some part of you just wouldn’t let them. 
“Do you-” he finally says between sniffles, oh great so he’s crying now “did you ever see a future with us?” 
Of course you did, hell you didn’t even expect him to end things and he has the audacity to ask this? What was his issue? “Kinda I guess” you mutter out, barely eligible 
“I did” A lie. That’s nothing but a lie. How could he even see a future with you when he walked out so easily? “I saw a future with us YN, I saw it and- I got scared to be honest. It was a future but it was built upon uncertainty, and I wasn’t ready for that. I shouldn’t have done that though.” 
“Heeseung it’s fi-” 
“Did you ever think about breaking no contact?” he interrupts “I did.”
“Heeseung.” his name is bitter as it leaves your tongue “Stop it. You’re being selfish.”
“Wh-what how am I being selfish” absolutely unbelievable. 
“You’re saying this the night before you leave to uni, the night before you change your phone number, the night before you fly off to a completely new country not giving me any chance to ever see you again. That’s selfish. You were selfish when you broke up with me and you’re being selfish now.” you’re fully crying at this point 
“YN I-” but you don’t let him finish that sentence 
“You know you really aren’t allowed to make my life a living hell for 6 months and then waltz back in like you did no damage-” you choke out between sobs, you’re not even sad now, it’s just pure unrivalled rage and disbelief “You’re not allowed to do that, it’s not fair. None of this was ever fair. How come you can tell me over and over again how I’m never doing enough and beg for me to be more attentive to you then leave and cut me off so easily?” 
The other end of the line remains silent.
“You’re not allowed to be the one to walk out, I wanted to be the one to do that. I was meant to be the one to cut things off, to leave, to walk out. I wanted to be the one to finish things, how could you do that?” you’re clutching onto your heart with a pain you could only remember experiencing once in your life: the night he walked out. 
“YN I’m sorry I really am, I don’t know why I even called you tonight,” he stuttered out before pausing to curse under his breath “I just, I couldn’t just leave without apologising.”
“So what, you wanted to hurt me one more time before leaving?” you spat back, words plagued with anger and remorse 
“I wanted to say that I loved you for fucks sake!” oh. 
You loved Heeseung too, you knew that the moment you laid eyes on him across the basketball court when he shot that three pointer. You knew the moment he flashed that toothy grin. You knew the moment he traced his fingers across your waist as you laid together in the quiet of the night. And you still knew you loved him when he spat out those words that changed your life forever. 
“Bye Heeseung, I really can’t fucking do this right now” 
“I love you YN, I don’t think I ever stopped.” 
You don’t return that sentiment before ending the call
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perm taglist (send an ask to be added!) @floweryang @cupidhoons @msauthor @dimplewonie @cholexc @i2ycat @bunnbam @tobiosbbyghorl @jlheon
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kidvoodoo · 2 days
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Jeest Mafia AU, snippet under the cut 💚💙
Joost tried not to make eye contact with anyone at the airport, though the stares he received at his battered face were inevitable. How many tall, blond, bandaged, bruised and bloody men were in a hurried rush to the terminal? Odds say: not many.
‘Not that I should be thinking about odds right now’ chided his conscience, ‘that’s how I got into this mess in the first place…’
His pace didn’t falter despite the looks from the other passengers lining up in their respective lines. All of them with bags and luggage alike underarm or trailing behind them, his own, suspiciously absent.
No time to pack, clothes on his back, phone, wallet and a little vial of two small white pills. Security checkpoint nearly put an end to those, but a desperate, puppy-eyed look and his disheveled state made the officer roll her eyes and wave him through, for all she knew, or anyone knew, it was aspirin.
‘Fix more than a headache’ his inner thoughts sneered, ‘steady on Joost, for emergencies only’.
He kept his eyes on the gate numbers, briefly glancing at the destinations. Cabo, Shanghai, Johannesburg, each a far flung place he could have potentially laid low in for months, relax on some resort beach or in a high class penthouse…
But that’s not where he’s headed.
He spies the glowing gate number, the destination? Helsinki, Finland. He got the ticket the same day he got the phone call telling him to leave as fast as possible, his usually calm and monotone source had an edge of panic to their voice, Joost trashed the burner after that and shredded the last of his books and burned them. He left his apartment as the ashes were still smoldering.
Finland eh? The only clue of what was happening next was the note in the ticket envelope, hurried scrawling in broken Dutch gave him simple instructions:
Taxi to the airport, pay in cash. Get on the plane. Make sure you are in the camera view the whole time, locate the Air Marshal and watch him. Once you are off the plane, head to the pick up zone in the parking lot and look for the black limo. Tap on the driver’s side window and give the password.
“Here for Tommy’s boy” he mutters under his breath. The magic words that’ll guarantee his safety and freedom, or will land him a bullet between the brows…
Better than the alternative.
He’s on time for the early boarding and hands the Steward his ticket, eyeing the Air Marshal at the doors to the plane’s walkway. He’s given a smile and some well wishes for his flight and finally, for the first time in several days, he feels a little sliver of calm wash over him.
‘Can’t cut me up on the plane you fuckers’
He finds his seat, window view and close to the front of the plane and plops down, the ache in his joints and back starting to flare up since the adrenaline begins to wear off.
Finland…he’s uncertain exactly what is waiting for him there, he regrets not grabbing a translation booklet at the terminal kiosk but there was simply no time. His new phone is IP hidden for the time being till he can get a VPN to bounce his signal, so no using Google’s underwhelming translation system…
He thinks back to a conversation he overheard at a conference last year. The big guys were all there, each of them with a meaty bodyguard in tow and a pistol or two brandished in plain sight.
He was there on happenstance, just finishing up the numbers to hand to his boss for the last fiscal year when his curiosity got the best of him.
“Baltic’s are at it again,” his boss sneers, tapping his cigar onto the floor, “think they’ll hide behind the Nordic cunts so they don’t have to play anymore”.
“Hm.” Another well dressed older man hums in response. He’s the police liaison, a former Captain who’s been working with the mob for 40 years. “Not much to be done about it Albert, the Fins have the advantage now, I hear they’ve even brought Estonia into the fold now.”
Albert snorts, getting to his feet and giving a couple other well-dressed people a farewell wave.
“Cuz of that little shit,” he grumbles, motioning his bodyguard to get a move on. “What’s his name? Kät-something? The Union fucker.”
“Käärijä,” the former Police Captain supplies, “his Union is very bold for an upstart, cutting off the trade in the Baltic’s disrupts everything. Heard he’s in talks of making a deal with the Norwegians as well. That’s the case? Say goodbye to the big money”.
Joost tried to linger as long as possible to catch the last bit of conversation, tucking himself against the wall and listening close.
“Damn idiot, Norway doesn’t play with the new players, even if the young lady is supposedly running things over there now. He’s a fucking lunatic to think the Baltic’s will stay loyal, he’ll be done by the end of the year, mark my words-“
A dinging noise jolts him awake from his daze, the Flight Attendants are doing their safety check. The doors to the plane are closed and for the first time in weeks, months even, Joost’s tense shoulders drop with exhaustion.
He is safe. For now.
<><><>
Roughly three hours later, he startles awake.
The voice over the intercom of the plane cabin announces in several languages that they have arrived at Helsinki Airport and will begin the landing process momentarily.
He spares a glance around the cabin out of paranoia, nothing out of the ordinary and no unwanted eyes in his direction.
Twenty minutes later and he’s heading out of the plane and into the airport terminal. The weather outside is gray and snowy, the sky a mass of colorless clouds and the sun choked somewhere behind. He shivers just looking at the weather, his cheap suit jacket will definitely not suffice.
He heads down the walkways and tried not to get too overwhelmed with the directions, mostly in Finnish but thankfully also in English.
He’s only a hundred feet from the parking lot when he feels eyes on his back. He tries subtly to peak behind and catch if he’s being followed.
Two men, both in dark blue suits and expensive leather shoes, each sporting a grim, intense expression. They have their hands in their pockets.
Joost picks up his pace, eyes focused on the automatic doors that swing open and shut.
He can hear them closing behind him, their shoes loud against the tiles. He starts to jog.
He doesn’t stop to apologize to the people he pushes past to get out of the door, ignoring the scowls and curses thrown his way. His heart is hammering in his chest, he has but a minute to locate the car before he’s dragged off and butchered in a dark corner…
A car horn blares loudly as he flinches and freezes, he had walked right out in front of a pair of high beams, his eyes don’t have time to adjust as he hurriedly runs around to look.
Black limousine, tinted windows with triple thick bulletproof glass and chrome trimming. The driver’s side window rolls down, a bald man with sunglasses and a mustache regards him blankly.
“P-please,” he stammers, eyes catching the two suited men finally breaching the threshold. “I-I’m being followed-“
“What is phrase?” The driver interrupts, not at all phased by the situation in the slightest.
“Th-the wha-oh yes yes, it’s uh…” he swallows takes a breath and speaks the words softly enough for the man to hear him.
“I’m here for Tommy’s boy.”
The door at the back of the limo clicks open, beckoning him inside.
He all but dives into the car and slams the door shut just as the two men make a dash towards the vehicle, only to stop dead in their tracks mere feet away.
Joost doesn’t have the time to take in his surroundings as he sees what has halted his stalkers. In the split second before the limo peels out with a loud screeching of tires, the window on the opposite side is down just enough to see the startled and blanched faces of the two men, who find themselves held in place by a man aiming a 45 caliber handgun at them.
Were it to fire at point blank range, one of the two men would have nearly had his torso blown open. More than a lethal shot, truly overkill at that point.
The car peels out of the lot and before he knows it, Joost is tossed back into he seat as the limo put some speedy distance between him and the danger.
A loud curse and sound of a window being rolled up. Joost finally levels his eyes behind his cracked glasses to see his savior.
Sitting across from him now with the gun held loosely in his grip is a dark haired man with pale skin. He sports a blunted bowl cut and his facial hair is trimmed and tidy. He wears a long black coat with a layered polo necked jumper and a couple silver chains around his neck. The jewelry matches his pierced ears and nose rings, the whole of his attire is expensive and modern looking.
Joost is drawn into the man’s piercing eyes, blue like his own but with an edge of silver steel, made more intimidating and entrancing by the heavy makeup that lines them.
The man is staring at him, Joost’s palms immediately start to sweat.
“I uh,”
“You are the Dutchman we take in?” The man interrupts, his voice has an hint of annoyance, Joost nods politely and holds out his hand to shake.
“Yes, I mean to say, thank you,” he tries to muster a charming smile but finds himself pinned under the man’s gaze like a deer being watched through a hunter’s scope.
“I’m sure this is a bit of trouble for you-“
“Trouble? I say it is bigger trouble for you and not me. You need a drink yes? I have gin and brandy here.” The man all but ignores whatever Joost was trying to say and busies himself with pouring a drink from a side bar containing glasses and some bottles. “Brandy since the gin is warm, I not have a lot of time to get it ready.”
Joost wants to say something, anything to this stranger but finds himself at an utter loss for words. The man looks at him expectantly, pushing the glass of amber liquor into his hands.
“There you drink that, feel better afterwards. You say you looking for Tommy’s boy? That is what he tell you to say? He think he is funny man, he gonna have to explain to me…” the man trails off, eyes now scanning and taking in Joost’s disheveled appearance. “You have injury? I have some bandage here and some other things uh,” the man stops and searches for a word. “you know, doctor supplies?”
“First aid kit?” Joost supplies.
“Ah yes yes! That is it,” the man grins and digs around a bit before huffing in annoyance and opening the little sliding window to the driver’s compartment. He asks for something in Finnish and the bald man replies. Information gathered, he opens a compartment and fishes out a nondescript black case.
“Okei here it is. Let me see your hand, you have blood on your palm.” He does? Joost was in such a mad dash to get away from the goons who had jumped him back in the Netherlands he didn’t have time to take stock of his injuries. He holds out his hand timidly and the man yanks it none too gently to inspect.
“No stitches I think,” he hums, grabbing supplies to clean and patch the gash on Joost’s palm.
The man’s grip is firm and steady, there is warm radiating from beneath the leather gloves he wears.
“You are Mr. Klein eh?” The man says absentmindedly as he cleans the wound. “I hear you screw your boss out two million euros, not bad.” The man smirks, eyes flickering up to Joost’s face. “I like someone who disrupts the status quo. When Tommy say you in trouble, I had to do something about it. Would be a waste for you ending up in concrete.”
Joost cringes a little at the mention of his dilemma, taking a long gulp of his drink and reveling in the burn.
“I don’t know about disruption, I just did what I thought was right is all. Didn’t think it would go this far…” he wishes he could be more proud, he did take a chunk of money from the hands of the worst men in Europe. Now, he’s a marked man, possibly forever.
The dark haired man seems to sense his discomfort and finishes dressing his hand, grabbing a gauze patch and passing it over.
“What is done is done, you think it is bad thing now, but you make a big move, and now you have a big advantage for the war that is coming.”
Joost finishes placing the gauze over the gash on his cheek, looking at the man puzzlingly.
“What war? And what advantage are you talking about?”
The man leans back against his seat and smiles, his sharp canines peak over his lips and his expression is one of amusement and vicious excitement.
“The war between the Union and the Old Men, tear down their ruined kingdom and make our own. The advantage? That’s easy,”
The man chuckles darkly.
“You have Käärijä in your corner now.”
110 notes · View notes
Vampire Smile
Pairing: Thrall!Simon "Ghost" Riley x Vampire!Reader Rating: E Warnings: Vampires, Vampire Bites, Vampire Sex, Blood, Blood and Gore, Self-Hatred, Human/Monster Romance, Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Codependency, Toxic Relationship, Self Indulgent af with way too much flowery shit, I wanted to be expressive for once, Self-Indulgent, Smut, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Fluff and Smut - Let me know if I missed anything! Wordcount: 5934 After trying to push Simon away, he comes back, and distance only makes the heart grow fonder.
(I made Simon’s blood type A Positive, we’ve got two skins with two conflicting blood types for him so I just chose this one) Vampire Smile - Kyla La Grange and Too Sweet - Hozier were playing on repeat while I wrote this. I'm not even sorry. For @glitterypirateduck's Simon Riley challenge. It started from thinking about using 4. A kiss on the inside of the wrist but it became so much more. Thank you @noxturnalpascal for beta-ing for me!
Ghost Masterlist | CoD Masterlist | AO3
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“Please.”
Your skin crawls as you hear his voice, ringing around your mind like he’s in the room with you. But that’s impossible, you haven’t seen him in weeks. You don’t want to see him.
Liar.
“Stop it,” you hiss into the darkness, “You need to stop.”
“I can’t, please. Just need to see you,” Simon’s disembodied voice weakens you as the hooks of his desperation find purchase in your resolve. He shouldn’t have this control, this access to your mind. You should be the one dictating the link, not him.
“You should be focusing on you, on staying alive,” you groan as you writhe under the blankets of your nest. You’re burning up, phantom sweat prickling at your skin as you push the heels of your palms into your eye sockets.
“Why?”
The question shakes you. So filled with venom, bitterness, self-hatred. A single syllable loaded with contempt, defiance, loss. He’s learned to manipulate your bond, he’s had help.
“Because I need you to live, Simon,” you groan as your nipples tighten as you feel him swelling in his boxers. It’s like you’re pressed against him, like that night in Tripoli – the beginning of the end for you both. You relive the way his heat bled into you as you let him worship your body. Your fingers dip down under the blankets and over the valley of your breasts.
“Stop thinking about that,” you snap, clenching your fingers into a fist as you snatch your hand away from your aching core. You’re too old, too strong to let a mortal like Simon play you like this.
He doesn’t respond, instead the mood of his thoughts shift, you hiss as you feel your fangs extend down over your lips. Your mouth floods with the heady tang of blood, his blood. It’s an illusion, a memory conjured up just for you, but it tastes so real.
“Simon,” you warn, voice hoarse as you pull your sleep mask from your eyes. You wince, even with your light-proofing, you can feel the UV radiation raging against the building around you. The burning threat of the sun behind your blackout curtains quells the thirst, the hunger for a brief moment.
“My Lady,” he trades your warning for one of his own, for every inch of his yearning you feel, you know he feels your pain.
“Where are you?” You groan as you force your aching limbs to move, you need to drink something. You’re sleep deprived, hungry, and no matter how hard you try to dispel the psychic haze blanketing your mind you can’t get the taste of Simon’s blood from your lips.
There’s a pause, a stutter in the psychic link, before you feel a deliberate, abrupt severance. You jump from your bed as experience the cold grip of fear wrap around your throat for the first time in decades.
“Simon?” You call to him, probing the cauterized connection in your mind as you search for his presence. He’s not there, he’s cut you off, somehow, he’s blocking your attempts to reestablish the link.
Or he’s dead.
The thought comes unbidden as you let the tendrils of terror twist around your dead heart. It’s pain like you’ve never felt as you realise, you’re trapped here. Simon could be bleeding out somewhere, dying alone, all because you couldn’t face your own feelings. Because you cannot venture into the light to find him.
You call Simon’s number, dread weighs heavy in the pit of your stomach as it goes straight to voicemail. You try again, and again. By the fifth time you’re pacing the length of your hall as you try to fight the urge to rush out into the sunlight.
You just need to know that he’s safe, but where do you even start? He could be anywhere in the world right now. But you’re stuck here, confined to your crypt.
You make yourself move, straight to the kitchen. You focus on the blood bags in your fridge, the A POS label taunting you as you snatch one up. It makes a dull slap as you throw it into your microwave, it kills some of the potency, but you’ve never been one to drink cold blood.
The microwave beeps cheerily and you tear the bag open with your exposed fangs before devouring it in hasty mouthfuls. The crimson liquid dribbles over your chin as you lean back against the kitchen counter.
You feel sharper, less hazy as you feel the warmth spread through your body. It numbs the need to throw yourself out into the sunlight. But it doesn’t stop the ache in your chest as you feel yourself spiralling.
Then you feel it.
He’s here.
The sound of a car door slamming down the street makes you sprint to the door, looking through the peep hole as you feel someone else’s anxiety bubble in your chest. Simon’s anxiety.
You hear his boots crunch on the gravel path, the gait of his walk memorised like a second heartbeat. Favouring his left, caused by an old injury left over from a time before you. It’s hard to imagine a time before him. Before this.
You hover at the front door, hiding behind the thick wooden barrier, fingertips poised over somewhere level with where you know his heart rests within his broad chest. You can almost feel it. Your skin pulses with the faux rush of his blood, tantalisingly close, yet so far away.
“Let me in,” he whispers, too low for a normal human to hear, but you pick it up as easily as if his lips were pressed to your skin.
“No,” you say, loud enough for him to hear, but it wouldn’t matter, the psychic link has burrowed back into your mind. He can feel your desperation, your need for him.
“My Lady,” he groans as you feel him slump to his knees on your doormat, “Please.”
You sink to your knees in a perfect mirror, forehead colliding with the door with a soft thud as you try to find the strength to deny him. When it was just the two of you, communicating with thought alone, it was like chipping away at an iceberg. His attempts to sway you miniscule.
But now, with his heat so close, his scent, gravelly and raw mere inches away, you’re powerless to resist.
“I’ll be in the bedroom,” you say softly as you reach up to unlock the door. The sound of the mechanism turning is deafening in the silence between you.
You trudge back to your bedroom, bed unmade, twisted up in a mass of pillows and blankets. It’s been like this since you sent Simon away. What’s the point in cleaning, in making an effort, when the only person who made you feel remotely human is gone? The rest of the house is spotless, but you’d have to leave your bedroom for more than just blood and to answer the door to even make a mark elsewhere.
You sit in your sleep shorts and his oversized Metallica hoodie. You hadn’t even realised you were wearing it until you looked down to assess your appearance. You consider changing, putting on something less emotionally charged, you could certainly do it before he reached you.
But you hear the solid thud of the front door closing behind Simon and you freeze. His scent invades your nostrils within fractions of a second of the door closing. It’s like liquid sunshine flooding your senses, bright and intangible. You smell his cologne first, the one you bought him for his birthday, subtle woodsy notes with hints of juniper and spice.
You close your eyes, shutting off your vision to enhance your smell. He’s only down the hall, the thrum of his blood in his veins roaring in your ears as his heartbeat increases. You know he can feel you, that invisible string tying your hearts together, it tugs on your chest too.
Then his natural fragrance hits you, he must be at the doorway to your room, he must see you waiting for him in his clothes. His bloodstream fills with Oxytocin, you can smell the shift as his cock hardens in his trousers. He’s smells so fucking good.
Even without looking, you call tell he’s hydrated, sober, eating well, exercising and maintaining his health. The realisation that the distance has only made him more whole and you devastatingly empty makes your eyes sting with tears that will never come. It’s a bitter vindication, the stark reality that you were – are – bad for him striking your heart with more force than any stake could ever deliver.
You want to open your eyes, witness the rejuvenation of his soul, but you can’t. You know it’ll break your heart if you see it with your own eyes. He lingers in the doorway for a moment before you feel the air shift between you. He whispers your name as he kneels at your feet, close enough you can feel the hair on the back of your neck stand up, but he refrains from touching you.
“Why are you here Simon?” You ask, voice fractured and weak as you ball your fists on your knees, drawing your gums painfully tight around your fangs.
“You know why,” is all he says in return as you let him flood your mind with images of the good times.
Dancing under the stars in Lima, hushed whines and writhing bodies under canvas in the desert, lazy Sundays on Simon’s couch.
It’s almost enough to sway you but you’re pulled under by the riptide of guilt as waves of bitter memories surge up between you.
Simon’s pale form after you took too much, his life fading behind his eyes as you desperately fed him your blood to keep him alive. Tripoli. Where you bound his soul to yours, ruined his life, marked him for death and destruction. You finally found the tenderness and joy you’d never experienced in life, but with an unforgivable trade-off. You were forced to admit you were slowly killing the man you love.
“Then turn me,” Simon says with a groan as he lays his head on your thigh, “I’ll do whatever you want, just don’t shut me out again.”
The plea stings, venomous rot agitated and burning in your chest as your eyes fly open.
“You can’t ask that of me,” you hiss as you move to push him away, but you’re frozen in place, palms flat on his chest.
Simon’s ochre eyes pin you in place as you see the fruits of his distance from you. His skin is glowing, tanned and healthy from decent exposure to sunlight. His eyes, though baleful, are radiant as he gazes upon you. He’s filled out, a healthy layer of fat covering his muscular body.
Ripe.
You recoil from his touch at your intrusive thought, you’re crawling back onto the bed, away from him. He sits back on his heels, tears shining in his eyes as you feel the rejection sting through him across your link.
“You look good,” you mumble, making conversation, trying to delay the inevitable expulsion of him from your lair. You want him to leave. You need him to stay. You’re trapped in a web of your own design. Locked down as you cower pitifully from your prey.
“You look like shit,” Simon counters with a chuckle and there it is again, the clawing need for him to hold you as you laugh together. A human, irrational need to grow old with him.
“You’re doing better without me,” you say, selfishly, bitterly, as you meet his gaze.
“I’m doing better for you,” he shakes his head as he places his broad palms flat on the end of the bed, pausing in his movement as he realises what he’s doing. He’s just as drawn to you as he was weeks ago it seems, but there’s a glimmer of hope flickering in your chest as he holds back. It’s not a compulsion anymore.
“Simon,” you say with a gnash of your teeth as he takes your lack of protest as permission to join you on the bed, “You can’t fix me,” you try to reason but with every second he’s getting closer, breaking down your feeble attempts at pious resistance.
“No, I can’t,” he says with a sad smile as he slots between your thighs, hands either side of your head as he impotently cages you in, “But I don’t need to fix you, I just need to be with you, forever.”
“Si,” you whimper as you rest your forearms on his shoulders, warmth blooms in your palms as you clasp his thick neck between your palms, “I won’t turn you. I won’t make you a monster.”
Like me.
“I’m already a monster,” he growls as he leans in to kiss you, his lips ghosting against yours, “My body count is probably close to yours,” he jokes, but there’s undeniable truth there. It’s like he wants you to bite, to take and take and take. But you won’t, this can’t be a suck and fuck that ends in already half-broken promises and dooms your narrative for good this time.
“We have to talk about this,” you plead as he places a kiss to the corner of your mouth, “After.”
“After?” He goads as he nips at your jaw, you burn for him. You’re pliable under his touch, but you refuse to be the first to break. He needs to claim you, not the other way around. You won’t be complicit in ruining this man.
Even if that ship has sailed.
“Make love to me,” you whisper, “But I can’t bite you, not today.”
He pauses as his lips brush your throat, exposing his own to your fangs as he hovers there. It’s a challenge, a promise.
“But I want you to,” he breathes, hot against your cool skin as your gums sear with need to plunge your fangs into the broad, veiny neck mere millimetres away.
“Then leave,” you snap, teeth clacking as you refrain from giving into the heat in your belly, in moments like this, you would give Simon anything. You would let him drive a stake through your heart and it would please you.
For Simon, you would do anything. Anything but damn him to the curse of your lonely eternity.
“I will,” he says with an edge to his voice, dark and dangerous, “If you really want me to leave, and never return, just say the word.”
“No,” the word leaves your lips before you can stop it.
“Then, just for today,” he hums before he licks a thick, hot stripe up your neck, “Indulge me, feed from me,” he growls as you hook your ankles around his waist.
It’s textbook really, the thrall begging to be drained. But there’s something about the way he holds it over you, like there’s true agency there, that breaks you.
It’s like the world silences around you, the sound of Simon’s blood rushing in his veins is the only thing left. You don’t even stop to kiss him, you just bite.
Thump, thump, thump, thump.
His heartbeat is a melody in your ears as you break the skin as easily as slicing through butter with a white-hot knife. Your fangs pump aphrodisiac into your mouth, directly into his bloodstream. You’re nearly delirious as you cling to him. Fingernails digging into the back of his shirt, ankles pressing into the small of his back as he grinds down against your barley-clothed cunt.
Monster.
You groan as the splash of blood hits your lips. Honey, cinnamon, spring water. All the things you remember that make up the heady drug that is your Simon.
“Thank you,” Simon’s voice is hoarse in your ear as he lets out shuddering breaths across your rapidly warming skin.
The urge to keep feeding binds you like silver chains, burning at your skin as you feed and feed.
Thump, thump, thump.
“Take what you need,” his voice is quieter now, like he’s speaking through a veil. Your tongue laps at the blood that runs in molten rivers down his skin.
Just a little more.
The poisoned voice in your mind urges you on, it wants you to drain every last drop. Leave behind a pretty little corpse for you to mourn and grieve for eternity. It wants to twist you into the monster you claim to be. You’re about to give in, to flip Simon on his back, pin him down and rip out that beautiful, thick throat.
Thump. Thump.
But he whispers so sweetly in your ear the words you’ve been dreading to hear. Because how can you hide from him now?
“I love you,” his voice is strong in your mind as his lips brush against your skin.
You push him off you, retracting your fangs just in time to stop his skin from tearing under the power of your jaws. He groans as you straddle his hips, your hands flying to his throat, thumbs pressed above his Adam’s apple. There’s no pressure in your grip, it’s weak despite the power raging through you. Simon has made you strong, stronger than you thought possible as you watch his amber eyes gleam with unshed tears.
“Knew you wouldn’t hurt me,” he says with a grin as he takes your wrists in his hands, thumbs brushing over where you once had a pulse.
“Never,” you vow, but your hands don’t move, blood smears against the heel of your right palm as the punctures bleed freely.
“I trust you,” he says with a smile as you feel his mind brush against yours, hazy and blissed out from your venom and his blood loss.
“You’re a fool,” you splutter as you lean down to pepper his scarred face with your bloodstained kisses, “Too stubborn for you own good,” you chide but there’s no malice in it.
“Look who’s talking, My Lady,” he grumbles as he drops his hands to your waist, fingertips dipping under the hem of his hoodie, “Fuck, I feel so good.”
“Yeah?” You purr as you feel the scratch and pull of his callouses on your skin.
“Yeah,” he repeats with a lazy smile as he palms your breasts with both hands, “Let me see you.”
You respond with a flurry of movements, too fast for his eyes to follow as you tear your clothes from your body. You grin down wolfishly at him as you now sit bare above him. You move his hands to your hips as you start to grind down against him.
“Like this?” You ask as you rock your wet cunt over the front of his trousers, using his painfully hard bulge to seek some relief in your aching core. Your breasts sway to the rhythm of your rolling hips.
“Yes,” he breathes your name as he grips your ass with both hands, encouraging you to move faster, but you slow down, to a veritable whisper of motion as you tug on his shirt.
“Your turn.”
He sits up with more strength than you expected. A bonus of being nourished and healthy, you think morosely to yourself as you try and push aside the negative twist of guilt in your gut.
You’re back on top of him in no time at all, his coarse happy trail rubbing deliciously against your clit as you splay your palms across his broad chest. His hands cup your cheeks as he pulls you down to slot your lips over his. You melt into his embrace and swipe your tongue over his bottom lip.
He cedes his mouth to your bloody maw as you tug at his hair, short blonde locks twisted around your fingertips while you pour your soul into his mouth. Unspoken admissions of love are written in the dance of your tongues. Hot muscle sliding over cold, feeling his warmth seep into your bones.  
His cock glides between your ass cheeks as he refrains from taking you. The echo of his pleasure rippling through you every time his tip catches on one of your holes, leaving you groaning in depraved desperation when he angles his hips away.
“I want to taste you,” he growls against your lips as he swipes his tongue over his own, collecting blood and venom before swallowing thickly. Your cunt clenches at the way the muscles in his neck flex and ripple. You want to bite down again and again, but you focus on Simon’s eyes, smiling down at him as desire swells within you.
“Then taste me,” you say with a smile as you feel the cobwebs of despair being blown from the corners of your mind. It’s easy to forget the bad times when you come together like this. It’s more than sex, it’s in the sweet intimacy as Simon flips your positions so you’re onto your back. In the way he eases you down onto the pillows, cradling your body in his strong arms as if you’re made of glass. It’s in these moments you forget and allow yourself to feel human again.
The irony makes you giddy as he kisses your jaw, nipping firmly against your cool skin before leaving wet, open-mouthed kisses down your body. His lips latch on your left nipple as he swirls his tongue around the hardened peak. The noise he makes as he worships your breasts makes your legs weak.
Caught in his throat, somewhere between a whine and a moan. Your response is desperate, feral.
“Simon, please,” you beg as he hums contentedly against your skin, slowly moving further down your body. His tongue lashes at the curve of your stomach, over the expanse of your ribs. You yelp in surprise and pained arousal as he nips at your skin. You buck your hips up as his lips meet your clit.
You want to cry out, to say something meaningful, but all that spills from your lips are strained whimpers. You’re gasping, even though you have no need for air, as he laps wetly at your slick folds. His hot breath and broad tongue ignite against your skin as he devours you. You buck up into his thick tongue, grinding against his slick muscle and he growls into your core.
“Taste so good, been dreaming of this,” his voice is muffled but you can see the flashes of those nightly visions behind his eyelids.  
First, you’re riding his face, face contorted into a fanged snarl as he pulls orgasm after orgasm from you. Next, pushed down into the mattress with his nose bumping against your dripping hole as he delves his tongue through your folds, lapping at your clit as you fall limp against the bedsheets.
The images run wild through your mind as he loops one arm over your belly, pulling your cunt tighter against his mouth. Two thick fingers tease at your hole and you’re whimpering for him, begging with thighs tightening around his head. Your fingers knot back into his hair as you urge him on, fingernails scraping on his scalp just how he likes.
He eases his fingers into your slick pussy, curling them up just how you like. Hours spent mapping your body out with his tongue, his teeth, fingers and his cock have made your pleasure second nature to him.
“Don’t leave me again,” he groans before sucking your clit between his lips, tongue swirling over your exposed bundle of nerves as he fucks you roughly on his fingers, “This cunt is mine.”
The sudden possessiveness arouses and angers you as a primal, monstrous need to dominate him flares at the base of your skull. It’s another blow to your twisted, broken ego, pulling you down from the precipice of total annihilation. It humbles and excites you just enough to let hope seed in amongst the putrid rot of self-hatred in your chest.
“If it’s yours,” you pant as you feel the subtle fraying of your nerves as your orgasm builds, “Then take it, show me how much you need me Simon Riley,” you growl, invoking his name like the night in Tripoli, “Show me you’re worthy of me.”
“Yes, My Lady,” he whimpers into your slick folds as he fucks his thick fingers into you, a pace and force strong enough to bruise if you were capable of such a thing, “Anything for you.”
Your mouth burns with the venom that leaks from your fangs as you dose yourself on your own poison. It’s blistering euphoria as you clench hard around Simon’s fingers. Slick gushes from you, coating his mouth, his chin, and his fingers. You scream his name as you remove your hands from his head, fisting and ripping at the bedsheets. Even this far gone, you will not hurt him.
Never again.
“Simon,” you whisper as you tremble, legs falling weakly as he laps gently at your core, worshiping at the altar of your sex as he drives you to overstimulated bliss.
“Did I do well?” He asks softly as he dips his tongue into your quivering core, causing your back to arch.
“Of course,” you croon as you sit up, fingertips tracing the scarred ridges that litter his face, palms cradling his jaw, “More than well, Simon, my love,” you whisper as you press your cool forehead against his, eyes closed as you let yourself just feel. Heat flows between you as his hands find your face.
“May I fuck you?” He asks, strong nose pressing against yours as he kneels between your legs, amber eyes flashing with desperation while he awaits your command. He smells of you, your essence smeared over his lips making you shudder as you press a chaste kiss to his lips.
“I don’t want you to ask permission like I’m your Lady,” you say as you feel his apprehension spike across your bond, “I want you to take what is already yours, Simon. As my lover. Not as a pale imitation of a pet.”
He pauses and you feel the flash of indecision under your skin like it is your own before his eyes darken. There’s something simmering under the surface as he trails his hands down your body, lingering on your waist as his thick fingers curl around your hips.
“I need you,” he murmurs your name, “I will have you.”
“Then take me,” you purr as you twist your fingers through his hair, pulling his head back taut as he snarls, “Use me, show me the meaning of need.”
Simon presses you back into the mattress, his hips slotting between your thighs as you feel his cock slap against your clit. You look down to see how broad he looks, and whimper at the sight of his hips rocking lazily back and forth. His tip catches at your entrance before he slides his shaft up through your folds.
You tremble as his bulbous head bumps against your overly sensitive bundle of nerves again and again. He’s toying with you now, making you squirm as he tests the limits of your patience. But you simply smirk up at him as you drag your fingernails down the column on his neck, his hips stutter and the way he grins down at you is almost enough to make your heart beat again.
“So beautiful beneath me,” he coos as he finally relents, notching himself at your aching core, “Oh fuck.”
He presses into you slowly, stretching you out, filling you to the brim in one slow, agonising roll of his hips. You huff out an empty breath, devoid of the air you no longer breathe, but the instinct to make room for his weight on top of you, deep inside you, prevails.
“Take me so well,” he grunts as he presses his chest against yours, head falling forward as he nips at the line of your jaw, “Like we were made to be together.”
You wrap your ankles around his waist as you expose your throat for him, it’s an unspeakable act of submission to a human. But you don’t care, you war with the monstrous instinct that makes your blood boil. You want to give Simon this, this symbolic gesture of equality. What he does with it, you dare to hope will change things for the better between you.
No more invisible noose around his neck, nor stake pressed to your heart.
He presses his cheek to your own, his scent invading your senses as you wrap your arms around his back, digging your nails into him as he slowly pulls almost all the way out.
“Bite me again,” he whispers against your skin, right where your pulse once throbbed, “I can take it.”
“Simon, I-,” you’re cut off by the arcing pain that erupts from your neck as he sinks his blunt, inefficient teeth into your neck, sucking wildly as he snaps his hips into you. He groans into your neck as the loud, wet slapping of skin on skin weaves through the air between you.
Pleasure rips through you as he splits you in two on his cock. It’s maddening as you feel another orgasm flaring hot at the base of your spine. You can’t help the way your fangs slide back over your lips as his sweat glistens on his neck. His blood pulses visibly under his skin as you let go, lips pressing to the thrum of his lifeblood. It echoes in your mind as you taste the salt of his skin.
“Please,” he growls one more time before you lose your grip on your carefully cultivated self-control.
Your fangs sink into his skin and you drink greedily the moment the tang of his blood hits your lips. Your pussy clenches like a vice around him as he ruts into you, desperate noises spilling from his mouth as he bites you again and again.
You take from him as his thrusts increase in pace, your release crackling up your spine as you try to last a little longer. Honey and cinnamon, spill onto your tongue as you gulp down more than you should. But Simon doesn’t falter, his pace punishing as he chases his own release now.
“Simon,” you whine as you force yourself to stop, “I’m gonna come.”
“Do it, milk me dry, fucking- hah- please.”
You do as instructed, a coy smile on your lips as you realise you enjoy being dictated to by him. Your orgasm blurs the line between your bodies as you clench hard around him in desperate, erratic bursts. You pull him into a kiss, letting him taste himself as your tongues tangle together. You swallow his shallow moans as his rhythm falters and he snaps his hips into you twice more before he’s buried to the hilt, filling you with his spend.
You’re bound together in a mess of hot and cold limbs, Simon’s ragged breaths fanning across your skin as he kisses you, and kisses you, and kisses you until you have to roll him onto his side to stop him.
“Enough,” you scold him playfully as you curl into the deep warmth of his form.
You lie there quietly for some time before you feel the tension leave his body, his breathing slows and you hear the telltale sign of sleep in his heartbeat. You peel yourself out of his embrace to clean up in the bathroom down the hall. It’s not strictly necessary, but you were a sucker for sexual hygiene in life, you were never going to give that up, even in undeath.
Once you’ve washed up, you head back to your bedroom, grabbing Simon some water and a protein bar on the way.
He’s exactly where you left him, sound asleep as his blood smears against the sheets around him. It’s a beautiful sight, seeing him like this, exhausted and sated but not broken. It’s not something you’re used to, not something you ever thought you’d see.
“Come back to bed,” he grumbles, and you can’t help but smile as you throw the bottle of water and snack onto the bed next to him.
“Only after you’ve eaten something and drink all of that water,” you protest as you settle on your knees next to him. You refrain from touching him as your euphoria ebbs, there’s a bitterness clinging to you as you realise that you’ve lured him back into danger.
“It’s ok,” he says as he rips open the packaging of the snack bar, “I’m ok.”
He rests a broad palm on your knee and you feel the assurance flood your mind. He’s baring his heart and soul to you through your bond and you nod. Despite the fear in your gut that threatens to devore you whole, you believe him.
“So,” you start as you watch Simon finish off the protein bar, “You going to tell me who I need to murder?”
“What?” He nearly chokes on a mouthful of water as you feel the panic rise in his chest.
“You had help,” you say, probing against his mind with your own, “With this.”
“Ah,” he chuckles as he flops back on the bed, “Yeah, Johnny’s been helping me with it, with everything.”
“Son of a bitch,” you grumble as you realise Soap has probably seen more of you through Simon’s mind’s eye than you’d like.
“He got a nip slip, of sorts,” Simon grumbles as his cheeks flush pink, “Asked me to think of the strongest memory, focus on it, channel it,” the aforementioned memory rippling into your mind as you watch yourself, asleep in Simon’s bed. It’s from the first time Simon let you feed from him, you’re splayed out under a simple sheet, moonlight illuminating your form. Your left breast is uncovered as you watch Simon move the sheet back up to cover you.
“I remember this night,” you say with a smile playing on your lips, “We fucked like rabbits,” you giggle to yourself as you feel a new wave of emotion rush in through your bond.
“Thrall or not,” he says with a heavy sigh as he pulls you down to lie on his chest, “It was the first night I knew this was more than a fling.”
And you feel the truth in his words, the raw honesty and the clarity in his mind. It sets your mind at ease, for the first time in months, you don’t feel like you’re damned to ruin him. You rest on his chest as his heart hammers in his chest, a deep rhythm etched into your soul.
“Thank you,” you whisper as you feel his breathing slow as sleep threatens to take him.
“For what?” He asks, thick fingers tracing patterns on your back as he holds you impossibly close.
“For trusting me, for getting better,” you breathe as you place sloppy kisses to his pectoral.
“Was selfish,” he shrugs it off as he places a kiss to the top of your head, “Can’t love you if I’m dead, can I?”
“No,” you shake your head, “I guess you can’t.”
There’s an unspoken understanding, flowing between your psychic link as you vow to keep him safe. To keep him by your side. For as long as he wants you.
You eventually settle back under the sheets, tangled together, saying little as you pull the blankets around you both. You know this isn’t perfect, that there is work you and Simon need to do, things that need to be said. You know there will be more pain to come but for now you’re content to exist in this moment a little longer.
And for the first time since you died, you feel warm.
Ghost Masterlist | CoD Masterlist | AO3
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gretavangroupie · 2 days
Text
The Ripe and The Ruin (Chapter 6)
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Pairing: Jake Kiszka x Reader, OC x Reader
Word Count: 15.1k
Warnings: Language, Alcohol, Smoking, Angst, Anxiety, Allusions to Cheating, Lying, Jealousy, Sexual Themes, Kissing, Unprotected Sex.
Find the Playlist Here: Apple Music | Spotify
A new series in collaboration with my talented co-writer @gretavanmoon.
A/N: Thanks so much for waiting for us while we took our little break. We had the absolute best time at our shows. We plotted and schemed most of the week and there really is quite a bit of exciting new things on the horizon, so keep your eyes peeled.
"Like all good fruit, the balance of life is in the ripe and ruin."
PARIS, FRANCE
JAKE POV
The sound of the heat kicking on wakes you from your sleep, your heavy eyelids forcing themselves open to a blur of darkness. You drag your hand over your face, rubbing at your tired eyes as you turn to your side ready to pull her close, only to find the bed empty. You blink away the blurriness quickly, finding the place she once was, cold. 
You snap your head to the side to glance at the clock, finding it to be a little earlier than you expected. Where did she go? Had she left? You look around the room and see that her things are gone, snatching your phone from the nightstand when you realize she really did leave. You quickly unlock the screen seeing a myriad of messages and missed calls from Isla, but much to your dismay, there was nothing from Y/N.
Your mind immediately starts to race. Did she sneak out? Did Sam’s drunken rambling scare her away? You curse yourself for even letting him into the room in the first place. You throw yourself back down onto the pillows, your brain frantically searching for some kind of answer. Your thumb taps on Josh’s contact, the line ringing out before you even knew what was happening. 
“Hello?” he answers, sounding far too chipper for the early hour. 
“Hey,” you pause, “You busy?”
“Hmmm…Not at the moment,” he answers, sounding intrigued. 
“Come to my room,” you ask, your voice still tired. 
You hear him huff a laugh from the other end of the phone, “Be there in a sec.”
You end the call and toss your phone onto the nightstand as you stand to pull yourself out of bed. You dig through your suitcase for a pair of sweats, pulling them over your legs just as you hear a knock at the door. 
You blow out a breath as you walk to the door, shaking your head as you twist the lock. As you pull it open you see Josh leaning on the wall across from the door, pushing off as you wave him inside. 
“To what do I owe the pleasure of this early morning chat?” he asks smugly. 
“I just need to you to sit down and listen to me and tell me I didn’t fuck this up,” you say, pointing to the bed. He raises his eyebrows at your assertiveness, quickly complying and taking a seat on the edge of your bed. 
“Oh, did you tell her finally?” he asks, crossing his leg over his knee. 
“No, I mean, I didn’t say anything but– Sam and his big fucking mouth…He barged in here last night drunk as fuck, rambling on about Lyla and shit, asking about Isla and what was going on there, meanwhile I had Y/N in here, and since we haven’t really told anyone what we are doing I kinda… made her hide in the bathroom. I tried to get Sam out of here but he wouldn’t stop talking, and fuck I just got know she heard all the shit he said,” you pause, pacing around the room. “After he left she asked me if there was something I needed to tell her.”
“And you said?”
“I– I panicked, I don’t know! I said no! I said it was just work stuff…I know I should have told her, but we had just had the most amazing–”
“You said no?!” he shouts.
You furrow your brows in shame as you look at him, “Yeah…”
“Jake, you massive fuck up,” he scolds, shaking his head. “So not only did you hide her in the bathroom, you also lied to her face.”
“Well it sounds really fucking bad when you say it like that,” you counter, throwing your hands into the air. 
“Okay, well which part of it is untrue, Jacob?”
“This is bullshit,” you growl, kicking your foot against the floor. 
“You thought she would be totally cool hiding in the bathroom? You didn’t think she was going to get a little bit suspicious? I know I'm the smarter twin but you can’t honestly be that stupid, right?” 
“What was I supposed to do? I couldn’t let Sam see her without it causing a whole new shit storm with Isla! I did everything I could to get him out of here, but he just kept talking. Thank god he didn’t mention Isla by name, but Y/N is smart and I know she picked up on everything he was saying. I could see it all over her face. She stayed after but, I just woke up and she was gone,” you continue. 
He nods his head as he takes in everything you’re saying, a redness in his cheeks as his underlying anger bubbles to the surface. Your phone begins to buzz on the nightstand, snapping both of your attention. You rush over to it to see if it’s Y/N, but again, it’s Isla. You silence the call and toss it back to the nightstand returning to stand in front of Josh. 
“Let me guess, it’s Isla?”
“She won’t fucking stop,” you answer nodding. 
“I told you to tell her a fucking week ago, Jake,” he snaps. 
“How the fuck do you tell someone that? Like, ‘hey, I have a crazy ex who blows up my phone day and night, but oh, also she lives in my house and even though I have broken it off with her several times she keeps clawing her way back into my life and thinks we are still together’? Yeah, I’m not doing all of that.”
“No, that’s exactly what you do. You lay every single nitty gritty detail out on the line for her, and you tell her that you have baggage, and that you are trying to deal with it as gently as possible. You leave the decision in her hands. You don’t lie to her and tell her it’s nothing, when it very much is something,” he says through gritted teeth. 
“Well, it’s a little late for that now dont you think?” you snap, “How do I fix it, now.”
“Have you heard from her?” he asks, pushing himself up off the bed. 
“No,” you answer quietly. “I didn’t even know she left.”
“Fuck, Jake…” he sighs, running his fingers over his chin as he thinks. 
“I think you have two options,” he pauses, giving you a serious look. “You either do what I told you to do a long time ago, or you play it off like absolutely nothing is wrong.”
You raise your eyebrows in surprise, not expecting the second option. “Yeah? You think…you think that would work?”
He sighs and shakes his head, “I think it’s a terrible idea, but yeah I think it could work. Though my vote is for the first option.”
“I just feel like it’s not her business to know about the shit with Isla,” you counter. 
“If you are sleeping with her, it’s her business Jake, goddamn.”
“I would disagree,” you say, crossing your arms over your chest. 
He shakes his head and purses his lips in anger, “You know what? I think you just wanted me to tell you what you want to hear to patch up your wounded ego. I don’t think you have any interest in doing the right thing at all, do you Jake?” he pauses, walking over to the door. “You need to get your shit straight, man. If I were you, I would take my advice and do the right thing before this all blows up in your face.”
He slams the door behind himself as you stand staring at it, anger pouring off of you. You know he’s right, no matter how hard of a pill it is to swallow. You could see the disappointment in his eyes, the look cutting you to your core. You turn and head into the bathroom, turning on the shower and letting the steam fill the bathroom. You knew you fucked up, not only was she mad at you, but so was Josh, and right now you couldn’t think of anything worse. 
You walk back into the room, grabbing your phone from the nightstand and seeing Isla’s missed call. You let out a sigh as you swipe past it, hitting Y/N’s contact instead. The call rings for a few seconds before going to her voicemail and you feel your heart drop into your stomach. You decide a text might be better and quickly type and retype your message until you’re happy with it. In that moment you make the choice to pretend like nothing is wrong, going against Josh’s advice yet again. 
You
9:19AM: Where did you run off to this morning?
You toss the phone onto the bed and strip out of your clothes, knowing that the shower is hot and waiting for you and wondering if the plans the two of you made for the day still stand. 
HER POV
Earlier That Morning
You’d spent the first hour of your morning in complete darkness, refusing to open the heavy curtains of your hotel room until you were ready to be gone. You’d barely slept the night before, tossing and turning as you fought the thoughts that plagued your mind. It didn’t help that Jake’s phone had been going off all night long, illuminating the dark room with a pale blue tint after each vibrate you heard. 
Someone really wanted to talk to him. 
You could still hear Sam’s words replaying in your mind, your stomach dropping as each fleeting memory makes its way to the forefront of your mind to throw more confusion into the mix. It feels impossible to stifle them. You step out of a particularly hot shower, still proud of the fact that you’d managed to sneak out of Jake’s bed this morning without waking him. 
You run a towel through your hair as you wipe off the fogged mirror, unable to truly look at your own reflection without feeling a fucked up sense of shame. Jake didn’t deserve a formal goodbye after what happened last night. Your gut is screaming at you, heeding warnings that something isn’t right… so you stand firm in your decision to leave him alone in his bed this morning. 
You hadn’t even bothered to look at your phone yet, knowing that today is a free day, and you likely will have little to no obligations. You wrap your hair up in the fluffy towel and make your way back out to your suitcase to grab your phone charger. As it powers back to life from its dangerously low battery, you notice a singular text from just a little while ago.
Paul
6:06AM: Hey! Call when you wake up, no hurry
The clock is nearing 8, so you stay wrapped up in your towel, falling under the covers as you listen to his tone ring out. 
“Goodmorning!” Paul’s chipper greeting almost irks you. 
“Morning!” you respond with a fake lilt. 
“Hey, got a little assignment for you today, it isn’t much and shouldn’t take you very long, but the job itself might be a little bit of a pain in the ass. Crew is already running low on water, so I had some ordered and need you to go and pick it up,” he explains. 
Your face contorts up at the thought of having to load multiple cases of bottled water into whatever vehicle you’re provided with. 
“I know it’s an off day, but Murph is going to go with you… I know it will be a lot of heavy lifting so I figured he would be the best man for the job,” Paul went on, referencing Murph’s rather toned and muscular stature.
Fuck. A solo assignment with just Murph? Enough to make you want to skip out on breakfast…
“Oh, okay! I can do that, no big deal. Are you sure Murph isn’t too busy? I could ask one of the others–”
“No, I’ve already spoken with him. He should be ready and waiting for you about ten o’clock,” Paul goes on. “Just load it back into the craft supply truck when you guys get back. Thanks again, Y/N! I’ll text you the address of the place.”
“Will do. Talk to you later.” You hang up the phone and pull the heavy blankets over your head, feeling ten thousand emotions flood you at once. Murph gives you a nervous energy, something about being in his presence makes your body swell with childlike giddiness. And on the other hand, the tumultuous pool of uncertainty that you’ve been thrust into with Jake has left you feeling drained and disheartened, and you don’t even have any explanation yet. 
You’re miffed at him. Miffed as fuck. His own brother drunkenly asked him how he was handling being away for this long. You’re no scientist, but you know how to pick up on cues and connect dots, and you absolutely know when someone is lying to you. The more time you spend stewing, the more angry you become. This is most definitely not what you need right now. 
You stay buried under the covers for a long while, your hair still piled and wrapped in the damp towel on your head. You close your eyes, thinking over everything again, vowing to stay right here in bed until the last possible second before you have to leave. A quiet knock on your door startles you from your cozy cave, and you know for a fact that Jake has come to your room since you decided to sneak out this morning. You whip the blankets back, quietly rushing to the peephole to prepare yourself to pretend you aren’t in the room.
But it isn’t Jake. 
It’s Murph.
A surge of nerves overtake your half-clothed body, and you mumble a silent ‘oh my gooooooddddd’ as you decide what to do. You flick your hand out as your eyes pace around the room, one hand clutching the towel between your breasts. What would Ruth do?
Ruth would answer the door.
Your hand turns the heavy metal lever, pulling the door open only six inches or so. You’re met with a completely surprised Murph, leaning his head away and covering his eyes when he realizes he’s almost caught you in your birthday suit. 
“Shit! I’m sorry, I was just coming by to make sure… I–I can wait for you downstairs–” he scrambles, and you witness his normal tough exterior fall all to pieces as his cheeks turn pink with embarrassment. 
“No no! I’m sorry!” you cry, pulling the door closed just a little bit. “It’s no big deal…”
He grins hard as he runs a hand over his face, approaching the door again and leaning one hand on the frame. “I just… came by to make sure Paul had talked with you, didn’t want you to oversleep or…” his hand nervously falls to his hip as he regains his composure, his body obviously wracked with uneasiness. He’s cute this way…
You take a page from Ruth’s book again, pulling the towel that sat on top of your head off, letting your wet hair flow over your shoulders. His eyes grow ten times in size, but only for a second. 
“Yes, Paul called. And I’m awake,” you reply sheepishly, lowering your head to look at him through your lashes. 
“Okay, yeah. Good. I’ll uh, meet you downstairs at ten?” he asks through an anxious breath and swallow. 
You bite your cheeks in and nod, twirling a piece of wet hair around your finger. “Mhmm, I’ll be there…” You watch his eyes as he tries his best to avoid eye contact with you, or more yet, your half-naked body.
“Okay, good. I’ll–I’ll see you then,” he says as he quickly turns and makes his way back down to the elevator.
You rush back to climb under the warmth of the covers as you giddily kick your feet underneath them, knowing all too well that you just managed to get a big burly security guard flustered by hardly doing anything at all. God, he looked good already today. A black shirt and dark wash jeans, a heavy canvas zip-up jacket and his signature backwards ballcap. And he had some type of cologne on… you couldn’t quite place it, but it was familiar while also unlike anything you’d ever smelled before.
You let yourself relish in the feeling for just a little bit, and like clockwork, your phone buzzes with Jake’s contact ringing across your screen. You stare at it as it inches its way across the table, until it stops ringing completely. Nah. Not yet. Only seconds after the phone stops ringing, you see a text from him bubble up on your notifications, but you ignore that too. You need some time to think. And, you have work to do. 
You finally pull yourself from the comfort of the bed and get dressed for the day. As you grab up your purse and heavy winter coat to head off in search of coffee, you feel the pull to hash out your feelings with Ruth. After five or six rings, you hear her tired voice come over the speaker.
“Hello?”
“Hey, I know it’s hella early and shit but I need to vent…” you say as you let your hotel room door close behind you. 
“Oh my god, you okay? What’s going on?” she replies, seemingly awake now. 
“Yeah, yeah, I’m okay. Listen… so last night after the show, me and Jake… ya know. Yeah. Everything was beautiful and perfect and everything until after, we’re sitting there literally naked and his brother Sam knocked on our door, and Jake hid me in the fucking bathroom.” You try to keep your voice low and close to the phone, just in case someone happens to be nearby. 
You swear you can hear her scoff from across the ocean. “HUH?!” she squeals. “Hid you?! The fuck?”
“I know, I know… like, I get it, finding us that way wouldn’t have been the best of circumstances but, that’s not even the worst part.” You press the button in the elevator to the ground floor as you finally find a little solace in being alone. “I was trying to get dressed in the dark bathroom, and here comes Sam, needing to pee. So I jump into the shower as quietly as I can and try not to breathe while they keep talking. And, get this Ruth… Sam starts talking about how he’s having problems with his own girlfriend, saying she’s acting really weird and off lately. So Jake says maybe she’s having trouble with the time difference and missing home or some bullshit. So Sam is like ‘Yeah, maybe so…’ Then he asks Jake ‘how you two are handling that’… and that he ‘hasn’t seen Jake on his phone a lot lately…’ I dunno. Then Sam said he knows that Jake has been going through this shit for a while. Like what shit? What could he possibly be having to deal with right now?” You realize that you’re rambling again, a quality that you’ve started to take notice of in your personality as of late.
“What the fuck…” Ruth trails off, trying to run over everything you’d just said. “So, do you think he has someone back home, and just never told you about it?” Her words hit you like a dagger, and hearing your suspicious thoughts be spoken out loud nearly makes you feel sick. You step off the elevator and into the crowded lobby of people in search of breakfast. 
“I don’t know, Ruth. Maybe? But also, he would have told me, I think. Ugh, it feels so fucked up. We have plans today and tonight, too. I kind of want to blow him off…”
“Shit, you’re pissed, aren't you? I definitely think something is going on, did you ask him once Sam left?” she presses. 
You finally spot the coffee bar across the hallway, making a beeline. “Yes, and I swear it felt like he was leaving some gaps in his explanation.”
She huffs. “Trust your gut, babe. You know him better than I would.”
“What should I do?” you ask, watching as a packet of sugar crystals trail into your paper coffee cup. 
“Let him come to you. I wouldn’t give him the time of day until he decides to be honest with you, ya know? You deserve at least that much…” she says, and you can hear her figuratively putting her foot down. 
You let out a long sigh. “You’re right, I already ignored his call this morning. I need some time to think…”
“I agree with you. Maybe step back a little,” she says, yawning heavily. 
You press the plastic lid down onto your coffee and saunter over to a plush couch in a hidden corner of the lobby, ready to drown yourself in emails and this stout dark roast. “You’re right, I think I will. Thanks Ruthie, go back to sleep.”
“Already halfway there, call me later, babe,” she says quietly. “Oh, hey, do you mind if I…do a little research, if you know what I mean?” 
Your brows furrow as you contemplate. “Research…”
“Yes. You know exactly what I mean.”
“Oh,” you finally understand. “I mean, I’m not gonna stop you. As long as you report back with your findings.”
“Babe, duh. I’ll talk to you later,” she says. 
“Byeeeeee.” You press the red button on your phone, pressing the end of it to your forehead a few times before slouching down onto the couch. Ten o’clock will be here before you know it, and you feel a zap of excited electricity at knowing you get to spend the morning with none other than the flustered security guard.
Needless to say you were more than a little surprised to see Murph standing outside of the hotel doors leaning on a truck, his arms crossed across his chest as he scrolls on his phone. His eyes flick up, catching yours as you step outside into the cold air. You make your way towards him, pulling your jacket closed tightly across your chest. The wind is unforgiving as you get closer, blowing your hair across your face. You watch him spring into action, quickly running around to the door to open it for you. 
“Thanks,” you smile, jumping into the warm cab. He nods his head and runs around the opposite side of the truck, sliding in next to you. He turns the knob for the heat and you instantly start to warm up. 
“How’d you manage to finesse a truck in another country?” you laugh, placing your bag on the floorboard. 
“Ahh, been here a few times now, feel pretty good on the roads. That and I’m not letting someone drive me around. I’m perfectly capable, so I made a few calls,” he grins, shifting the truck into drive. 
“Do you know where we’re even going?” you ask, pulling your phone from your purse. 
“I think so, but why don’t you just tell me anyway,” he smirks, pulling out into traffic. The traffic patterns are foreign to you, but he seems to be handling them with ease, and that alone has you able to relax a bit. 
“Okay, so per Paul, it looks like we are heading to a bulk grocer, and the address is 47 Rue Saint-Jacques,” you answer. “The order has already been placed, we’re just picking it up.”
He taps on his phone screen a few times as he types in the address, nodding his head as he previews the route. “Looks like we’ve got about twenty minutes ahead of us.”
“That’s not bad at all, maybe this will be a quick trip after all,” you smile towards him. 
He huffs a laugh as he readjusts his hat on his head, “Maybe so.”
Murph takes the lead loading the cases of water into the truck bed, insisting he will do all of it. You feel bad as you just stand by watching, but he seems like the type of guy to bear the burden of most things with no regrets. He swipes his hand across his brow and fixes his hat, letting out a breath as he closes the truck bed. 
“That all of it?”
“I think so!” you pause, “Thanks for doing all of that, I feel kind of useless.” 
“Nah, not at all,” he smirks, nodding towards the truck. You both get into the warm cab and as you reach for your phone, you find the screen filled with notifications from Ruth. For the past twenty minutes your phone had been ringing and numerous texts had come through, the last one reading ‘SOS’.
Your heart drops into your stomach as you consider that something bad has happened, your hands shaking as you tap her contact and listen to the call ring. She doesn’t answer and the sick feeling in your stomach grows. You shakily type a message to her, hoping she will see it. 
You
10:49AM: WHAT IS HAPPENING
10:49AM: I’M ON A WORK THING WITH MURPH AND I DIDNT SEE MY PHONE
You lock your screen as your knee bounces nervously, picking at your nails with your fingers. 
“You okay?” he asks, turning to look at you. 
“Yeah, yeah, I’m okay, just missed an important call that's all,” you say, trying not to go into too much detail. “Tell me about you, distract me,” you beg. 
“About me?” he asks, “Uhh, what do you want to know?”
“I don’t know, anything, something. Tell me…tell me how you got into this business.”
“How I got into this business… My that's kind of a loaded first question,” he laughs, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel. “Well, I’ve always sort of just…protected people. Done it my whole life. Kind of like instinct I guess. Got a little older and realized it’s what I was meant to do. Joined the military when I turned seventeen, stayed in for a long time. Did a few tours, saw some wild shit, and now I’m on reserves. I joined a little group of guys who also weren’t ready to stop and now we do close range protection. Got a call one day I’d been hired to watch over these guys and now here I am hauling water into the back of a truck and driving around a pretty girl.”
Your heart flutters in your chest at his admission. Shit. 
“You never wanted to do anything else?” you ask. 
“No. I feel my best when I am protecting others,” he says, his face stern and serious. “It’s in my blood.”
“That's very…admirable,” you say, feeling yourself swooning over the man next to you.
“Ahh, that’s not why I do it, though it does feel good to hear you say it,” he winks.
You feel your cheeks grow warm when he winks at you, and you quickly face forward before he notices. He smiles softly as he whips the truck through the streets, chewing his gum casually. 
Your phone starts to buzz in your lap, instantly zapping your attention. 
Ruth
11:02AM: CODE RED
11:02AM: SOS 
11:02AM: ANSWER MEEEEEEEE
You
11:03AM: WHAT! I’m here!!!
The next message that comes through is a photo, and not one you expected to see. It’s Jake and another woman looking awfully cozy on a porch swing. She’s pretty, gorgeous even. Way prettier than you are. It's a screenshot of an Instagram profile, the date of the photo showing it was posted almost a year ago. Your heart sinks again as you look at it, seeing Jake’s arm wrapped around her as her hand rests on his thigh. The caption reads ‘forever’. You swallow back the lump in your throat as you go back to your texts with Ruth. 
You
11:05AM: Holy fuck, where did you find that?
Ruth
11:06AM: On her profile, there's tons, babe. Some are…recent. Like very recent.
You
11:07AM: So he lied? He has a girlfriend? 
11:07AM: Oh shit am I a homewrecker? Oh my god and his phone was blowing up all night. I am totally a homewrecker bitch. 
11:08AM: HE LIEEEDDDD TO ME
11:08AM: RUTH WHAT DO I DO HELP ME 
Ruth
11:09AM: I don’t know for sure if they are together or not, the last post of the two of them was almost 6 months ago.
11:10AM: I wish I knew what to tell you, but I don’t know this guy at all and I can’t get a good read on her just from her socials. If they aren’t together now they definitely were recently. She used to post about him a lot and now she has slacked off a good bit. 
You
11:11AM: How did you even find her?
Ruth
11:12AM: Don’t ask questions you don’t want the answers to. ( I had to make a whole ass fake profile )
You
11:13AM: RUTHIE
Ruth
11:14AM: What?! I did what had to be done. I have no regrets, and all it took was a quick search of a tagged photo of the bassists girlfriend to find her. Did you know they do pilates together? Rich bitches. So anyways now my name is Cassandra and I also take Pilates classes at Well Body Pilates. 💅🏻
You
11:15AM: You found her through Sam’s girlfriend?!
Ruth
11:16AM: My mind is an intricate and beautiful web of deception and mischief 
You
11:17AM: Yeah, it’s also sick and twisted. Keep digging. I need to know what I’m dealing with here. I still haven't spoken to Jake.
11:17AM: Well, not really. He added a song to the playlist and I replied to it. I don’t know what I’m doing Ruth…
Ruth
11:18AM: Oh trust me, I’m digging and I don’t blame you for not answering him. I wouldn’t speak to him either. 
11:18AM: Little RAT
You
11:19AM: Ruth…
Ruth
11:20AM: 😇
Your heart is pounding in your chest as you look at the photo again. He looks happy. You feel your heart twist a little at the thought of him being in a relationship and cheating. You really didn’t think he was that kind of guy. You swallow the lump in your throat just as Murph turns to look at you. 
“Hey, uh, are you hungry?” he asks. 
You blink away your emotions, nodding your head. “Yeah, actually… I am.” you answer, knowing that you were supposed to spend the day with Jake, but now you can hardly stomach the thought. 
“You like pizza?” he smirks, raising an eyebrow. 
“Of course! Who doesn’t like pizza?”
He laughs a hearty laugh and tosses his head back a bit, “Good, that’s good, I know just the place.”
Your phone buzzes once more in your lap, and you flip it over to see another text from Ruth. 
Ruth 
11:22AM: Ps, who is Murph?
You smirk as you realize you haven’t gone into much detail about this new addition to the crew, yet. As he pays heavy attention to traffic and stoplights, you twist your phone in your lap to snap the sneakiest picture of him to send to Ruth. 
You
11:23AM: *Attachment*
New security guard. CUTE security guard. 😊
Ruth
11:24AM: Well HELLO THERE sir!!
11:24AM: Bitch if you don’t flirt with him, I’m flying across the ocean to do it myself
11:25AM: Jake who?????
You
11:25AM: I’m at work, Ruthie. Remember. 
11:26AM: But yeah we be flirting a little😛
You lock your phone to turn your attention back to professionalism, listening to the light music coming from the radio station Murph had chosen. 
JAKE POV
You stay close behind Josh and Ty as you meander the back alleyways of the city, taking in the beauty of the architecture and old-world style of the storefronts. Monty has tagged along today, hanging back and taking phone calls as the three of you walk. It’s cold, but not as cold as what you’d been enduring the past few days. Typically, you’d spend these free days by yourself, either hiding away in the hotel room or finding something private to partake in. Or, as of late, you would have spent it with Y/N, but after multiple texts and a phone call went ignored this morning, you decided to focus your attention elsewhere. 
“Odd of you to tag along with us, brother. Need to stretch your legs today?” Josh asks, pulling back from Ty a little. You know the tension is still high from your argument this morning, but you can tell that Josh is trying to brush it off to keep a cool head in front of Ty.
“Yeah, well. If you remember, I had plans today, but. They kind of fell through…” you answer him, avoiding eye contact. 
“Oh, with Y/N,” he acts like he only just remembered.
You nod, rolling your eyes. “Yeah, but she kind of blew me off. Hasn’t answered me all morning, still.”
“Ah,” Josh says with a slightly sarcastic tone. “Probably because Paul sent her out to get something for the crew, and Murph went with her.”
Wait, Murph?
“Murph went with her? Why? Where did she have to go?” you have a million questions, and you aren’t sure which ones to ask first.
Josh bites his tongue as he decides what to say. “I think they had to go get water for the crew or something, was gonna be a big job, so Murph volunteered to go and help her get it,” he explains. “They should be back later, though. Isn’t she coming up to the Tower with us later?”
You feel yourself seething. “Yeah. Well, was supposed to. Was supposed to hang out right now, too, but. We see how that ended up.”
“It’s not her fault, Jake, shit. Paul sent her on an assignment…”Josh defends her with a shrug. “I can tell you’re pissed for some reason. And I know it’s just not at me from this morning…”
“I’m not…pissed about that, I’m pissed she's actively ignoring me after what happened last night with–” You cut yourself off, truly not wanting to go into detail about Sam’s unexpected visit and what happened thereafter in front of Ty. 
“With Sam…? Yeah. I see you still haven’t heeded my advice…” he says with a snarl, whispering away from earshot of Ty. He shakes his head at you as you stay silent. He turns and stops you in your tracks, forming the illusion of an explosion with his fingers and hands, right in front of your face. “Ka-boom!” he whispers before turning away again. 
You know he’s right. This is all going to blow up in your face. 
Josh and Ty skip on ahead of you, slipping into a pub or something, you don’t know. You pull your phone from your pocket, seeing that she still hasn’t sent a thing. You swipe through a few notifications from Isla, knowing that those can be dealt with later, and bring up your music app to see if adding another song will get something out of her. 
What to add…
You file through your extensive library, finally landing on a song that’s a little out of your realm of normal listening, but will still catch her attention. You click the song, ‘While I’m Waiting Here’ by Billy Strings, selecting the three dots and adding it to the playlist. You hope she will see it and know that you’re still thinking about her, wanting to make this work, but at the same time you know you have buried yourself deep inside a hole that is lined with explosives, and all you can do is wait for the spark to ignite them. 
Should you have listened to Josh? Yes, absolutely. He’s right, you know he is. Josh is the angel on your shoulder whispering in your ear to err on the side of reason and honesty. But the devil on the other shoulder is standing firm in the fact that it’s truly none of Y/N’s business to know the details about your past with Isla; as far as you’re concerned, that part of your life is done. 
…But it’s not. It’s far from done. She still lives with you. The little devil is just spouting the words that you want to hear, weaving lies and deceit into his corrupt advice, and making you believe it to be justified.
You shove your phone back into your pocket as you slip inside the hidden pub door behind Ty and Josh, feeling the need for a beer the size of your head to take this fucking edge off. It’s truly pissing you off how hung up you are on this girl, and you’re even more pissed that she’s spending her day with a man that you know for a fact was able to make you extremely jealous. 
You take a barstool next to Josh as he orders three of the same whatever, and you slump down onto your elbows as you stare at the intricate mosaic artwork that adorns the short bartop. Your finger glides along the multicolored tiles, tracing the grout between them as you let your mind wander. Maybe you should just tell her. Tell her everything.
Suddenly a giant glass stein of beer is firmly plopped in front of your sullen face as Josh nudges his elbow into your shoulder. “Wake up, Eeyore. Time to take advantage of our day,” he heeds, so you slowly sit up. You truly must be presenting yourself like a heartbroken asshole.
You give him the evil eye as you lift the mug to your lips, letting the foam graze across your mustache. For the first time in a while, the instant jolt of alcohol hitting your system isn’t as much welcomed as it is irritating, but you decide to get past it, because what the fuck else are you gonna do?
You suddenly feel your phone buzz in your pocket, and your mood instantly lightens. You rip it out quickly, tapping the screen to see that finally, she has made contact. 
‘Y/N Added A Song to Your Shared Playlist: 🐥’
The song she chose nearly made your heart fall straight into the hardwood floor beneath you. ‘Suspicious Minds’ by Elvis Presley.
Fuck. Fuck fuck. 
Could this truly get any fucking worse? And better yet, how in the hell are you going to fix it in such a way that you get a happy ending? You decide to grasp on to the fleeting second, opening your text thread with her to make contact even further. 
You
11:48AM: We still on for later?
Your heart rate spikes as you watch your phone in anticipation, feeling completely stupid for being this giddy and also somehow even more confused than before. You know she knows something is up, now. Suspicious is the absolute last thing you want her to be, but… she is a smart person. And you’ve been the idiot. 
Her text bubble pops up, typing for a very long time. 
Finally you receive a wordless text, a ‘👍🏼’ her only response. Okay, so it’s not a thumbs down, at least? But still, you were expecting at least a Yes. You decide to cut your losses, taking the contact as a tiny win, but knowing that the gut feeling of dread is only going to get worse as this beer in your hand empties.
The day passes without another word from her, and you know because you spent a large majority of the day checking your phone. You now find yourself pacing around your hotel room as you wait to hear about your evening plans, wondering if she would be involved in them.
You
7:56PM: What's the plan 
Sam
7:57PM: Aren’t we going to the towa
Josh
7:58PM: Yeah, I think we are meeting everyone downstairs at 8:30
You
7:58PM: Who all is going?
Josh
7:59PM: Everyone, it’s a crew outing
You
7:59PM: Great.
Josh
8:00PM: Suck it up Jake
Daniel
8:01PM: Yeah Jake 😋
You lock your phone and toss it on your bed, still a disheveled mess from this morning. You continue to pace around your room as your mind swirls with thoughts. You wonder why you hadn’t heard from her, even after her confirmation earlier. You wonder if she spent the whole day with Murph and what they did together. You grit your teeth together at the thought, snatching your phone off of the bed and deciding that if this is how she wants to do things, you too could play that game. 
As everyone assembles down in the lobby you find yourself looking for her, wanting just a glimpse of her to prove your wandering thoughts wrong. You groan inwardly when you find she isn’t around, and not shockingly, neither is Murph. As everyone loads into the vans you check your phone again, and still you have nothing from her. You find yourself getting a little pissed off at this game she is playing and again you tell yourself you can play it too, your desire growing by the second.
The ride to the tower is short, your knee bouncing the entire ride as you stare out the window. It's not long before you’re all piling out and breaking into groups, waiting for the last few stragglers to arrive. In the distance you see two people rushing towards you, laughing and smiling as they approach. You suck your teeth when you realize it's Y/N and Murph, definitely running late from what appears to be their day off spent together. 
You shove your hands in your pockets and turn to Josh, raising your eyebrows in question. He peers over your shoulder and catches sight of them, shrugging his shoulders before turning his attention back to Ty. Right.  
The two of them regain their composure quickly, but you can tell that Y/N has been drinking. Her cheeks are pink and a smile hasn’t left her face since she stepped up to the group. She hasn’t made eye contact with you yet, and you wonder if she even will. You turn to face them, giving her no choice but to acknowledge you, and when her eyes finally meet yours it's only for a split second before she tears them away. 
Okay, what the fuck.
Murph steps away to talk to Dean, and you finally get a second alone with her, hoping she will give you the time of day. 
“And where have you been all day?” you ask playfully, raising a brow. 
She raises her own and purses her lips, “Running errands for you and your crew.”
“Is that right? I thought you were off today?”
“I thought so too, apparently there was no water left and I couldn’t get it all on my own,” she answers, an edge of confrontation in her voice. Murph steps back over towards her, catching the tail end of the conversation. 
“I could have gone with you, you know.”
“No need man, I took good care of her,” Murph smiles, patting you on the back. 
You do your best to stifle back the scoff begging to rattle from your chest, nodding your head at him. “Yeah, I’m sure.”
The tour guide speaks up before he can answer, grabbing your attention to lead the group towards the entrance to the tower. You turn to look at Y/N, her eyes already on you as you meet them and you can tell there is something she wants to say. Instead, she walks ahead letting Murph trail behind her. 
Most of the tour is spent casting glances at each other, speaking with your eyes instead of your words. There is tension between the two of you, you can feel its cold grip around your neck with every meeting of your eyes. You were supposed to do this with her. You were supposed to bring her here. Just the two of you. Had she forgotten? Did she change her mind overnight? It would explain a lot. 
As you stare out into the twinkling city beneath you, the cold wind blows your scarf around. You find yourself wishing it was just the two of you, pointing out monuments and landmarks as you held her close to keep her warm. You turn around to look for her, deciding that you had to say something. Just get some kind of answer. 
You find her hanging out with Josh and Ty, the three of them smiling and laughing as Murph patrols the area for any potential threats. Josh notices you and breaks away from them, meeting you where you were instead of letting you join them. 
“First, fix your face. If you’re trying to sell the ‘nothing is wrong’ bit you’re doing a miserable job,” he says, placing his hand on his hip. 
You roll your eyes in response, flashing him a faux smile as you push him out of the way and head over towards her. Her eyes meet yours, her lips parting in surprise as you hear your name called from behind you. You look over your shoulder to find a woman with a longing look and a twinkle in her eye, nervously approaching. 
Murph rushes up behind her, giving you a look to let you know he will escort her away if you want him to. You quickly shake your head no, knowing that you can use this interaction to your advantage. 
“Hi, how are you?” you smile, greeting the woman excitedly. She's about your age, maybe a year or two younger, with striking eyes. 
“Hi Jake! I don’t mean to bother you, I was just wondering if I could take a picture with you? My friend and I?” she asks, motioning her equally as attractive friend toward her. 
“Hi there, nice to meet you,” you say, motioning them both in for a hug. You pull them in close, posing for a few photos as Y/N stands by watching. If you are right, and if you know her like you think you do, this will set her off. 
You can feel her eyes on you as you continue to talk and interact with the fans, all the while your mind filled with thoughts of her and the dark pink shade that has taken over her cheeks. 
You say goodbye to the fans, sending them off with a wave, turning on your heel to join Josh, Ty, and Y/N at the opposite end of the tower. 
“How they hell do they find us all the way up here?” Josh laughs, elbowing your arm. 
“No problem to take a photo or two with some pretty girls,” you quip, raising a brow at him. 
“Never is, is it Jake?” he laughs, and as you nod your head you flash a smile right to Y/N, knowing that your plan worked perfectly. 
You all load into the vans, making your way back towards the hotel. Y/N rides with Paul and Wes, and you know she is positively stewing with jealousy over your impromptu meet and greet. She would talk to you now, you were sure of it. You just had to wait. 
 As the vans drop you off at the hotel lobby you all meander inside, some of you opting for the hotel bar, while others headed up to their rooms. You stood off to the side, waiting to see what Y/N was going to do, and you think she was planning to do the same, that is, until Murph stepped up to her. 
“I can walk you up to your room if you want,” he offers, causing a scoff to leave your lips. You step up to the both of them with your hands in your pockets. 
“Why don’t I walk her up so that you can do your job and watch those idiots heading into the bar.”
He gives you a surprised look and nods his head. He bites his lips as he turns to Y/N, telling her a quick goodnight before disappearing into the hotel bar. Just when you think you’ve got her, Ty swoops in. 
“Actually, I’m walking her. Let’s go Y/N,” Ty says, linking arms with her and dragging her into the elevator with him. She shoots you a snarky look as the doors close, leaving you standing in the lobby empty handed, yet again. 
As you make your way up to your room, you start to think that your plan has backfired, and that not only have you made her mad, you’ve made her unnecessarily jealous too. You consider texting her as your door shuts behind you, but decide to leave the ball in her court and see if she reaches out. 
You take a quick shower, and wander back into your room, hearing your phone buzz on the nightstand. Your head instantly snaps over to look at it, hoping to see a message from her.  As you snatch it off the small nightstand your cheeks instantly heat seeing the notification on your screen. 
‘Y/N Added A Song to Your Shared Playlist: 🐥’
You immediately tap the banner, watching as the playlist populates before your eyes. Your breath is stolen away as you see her addition, a smile pulling across your lips. ‘Need You Tonight’ by INXS was added two minutes ago. 
You realize what she is saying, and you consider responding with a song but you decide to up the ante and call her directly. The line rings only twice before she answers. 
“Hello?”
“Well, well, well,” you start, quickly getting cut off before you can finish your sentence. 
“Shut up, come to my room,” she snaps. 
“A little feisty this evening?” you taunt.
“Are you coming or not,” she whines. 
“Oh, so now you want to talk to me? It was the girls, wasn’t it, baby…”
“Have any of the girls ever told you that you have a big head?” she gripes. 
“No, but they’ve told me I have a massive di–” you start, hearing the chime as the call ends. She got you there. 
You quickly change into a pair of sweats and a t-shirt, leaving your phone on the nightstand and swiping your room key as you rush out the door in search of her room without a second thought. 
You rap your knuckles against her door, stepping back as you wait for her to open it. Your nerves are swirling around in your body and you feel like you’re positively vibrating. You know you need to talk to her, but right now she wants you and you would never deny her that. 
The door swings open, revealing her barely there silky pajama set hanging haphazardly from her shoulders. She ushers you inside, shutting the door behind you. 
“I thought you’d come,” she quips. 
“Had to. First I’ve heard from you all day…” you taunt. “You forget about me?”
She pulls you by your hand into the room, sitting the two of you on the edge of the bed.
“No, didn’t forget at all, actually. Was just…preoccupied.”
“Mhmm, thought we had plans,” you say, brushing the hair away from her shoulder. 
“We did, but…”
“But what?” you ask, running your fingers down her arm. 
“But I had to do my job. You know the thing I’m here to do…” she grins. 
“I could have gone with you, you know.”
“Yeah, you could have but Murph offered.” she continues. 
“Yeah, did you two have fun on your little date?” you ask. 
“Date? Who said it was a date?” she questions. 
“Did you spend the entire day together? Did you show up to the tower a little tipsy or was that just my imagination?” you prompt. 
“You seem a little bit jealous, Jacob,” she says, resting her hand on your thigh. 
“Why’d you blow me off for him?”
“I was just doing my job and so was he,” she answers, feigning ignorance. 
You cup her cheek in your hand, letting your thumb rest on her lips, “Lie to me again.”
“Was just work.”
You pull her into your lap, connecting your lips to hers in a desperate, needy kiss. Her arms wrap around your neck as your hands settle on her hips, pulling her down to yours. 
“You need a reminder of why I’m here and he’s not?”
She parts her lips from yours, glossy and wet, “It’s not too late…”
A growl leaves your chest as you flip her over onto the bed, pinning her arms above her head with your hands. 
“Why are you being so ornery this evening, hm?” you ask, pressing your lips to her neck. 
“Why are you being so jealous?” she counters. 
“M’not jealous sweetheart,” you offer, sliding the straps of her top over her shoulders. 
“You’re surely acting it,” she says, letting you pull the top over her chest. 
“Just like you weren’t jealous of those girls tonight? I know that's why you called me here, baby.”
You press your lips to her chest, sucking a dark pink mark into her skin as her hands weave into your hair. 
“We never set any boundaries Jake. I’m not yours.”
You press your finger into the pink mark on her chest, blooming purple beneath your touch, “This would beg to differ.”
“We’re just sleeping together, Jake.”
“I’m well aware,” you say, dusting your thumb over her hardened nipple.
“So do what you’re here for…”
“Oh, you think you call the shots now? I have bad news for you, baby,” you say, tugging her shorts over her hips. 
“You think you’re in charge here?” she asks, shimming her hips to kick off the silky shorts.
“I know I am,” you answer, pulling your shirt over your head. 
“You would like to think that wouldn’t you,” she counters, watching you push your sweats down your legs. 
“You better watch it sweetheart, you’ve got me a little pissed off as it is,” you warn. 
“Me? What could I have done?” she smirks. 
“You know exactly what you did,” you answer.
She flashes you a knowing grin, wrapping her arms around your neck and pulling your lips down to hers connecting your mouths in a fiery kiss. Her tongue slides across your lips just as you part them, letting your tongue tangle with hers. She tastes of wine and mint, her tongue hot on your own. Your hand grips into her waist, feeling the smoothness of her skin on your fingers. 
You feel her hand snake between the two of you, grabbing your length and stroking you as her lips continue to explore yours. She pulls your body down to hers, swiping your tip through her wet center. You suck in a deep breath feeling her arousal coating you, and you realize that this game of cat and mouse has you more worked up than you thought. 
You push her hand away, taking back control, grabbing your dick as you continue to tease her. She is squirming beneath you, as desperate for you as you are for her. Her eyes are dark, her hair splayed across the pillow beneath her head as she looks at you. Her chest is heaving as she watches, the dim lighting in the room casting the perfect shadow against her body. 
You lick your lips as you press yourself to her entrance, her mouth forming a perfect ‘O’ as you push forward into her. You sink in easily, her body ready and willing to accept every inch of you as if it had been waiting for you. You settle yourself on your elbow above her, letting your free hand fall to her throat. You can feel her pulse beneath your fingers, rapid and pounding as her body adjusts to you. The darkness in her eyes grows as your grip on her neck tightens. 
“Yeah? You want more?” you ask, letting your fingertips dig into her skin. She nods her head quickly, biting her bottom lip. 
“Fuck,” you breathe, tightening the grip across her trachea just a little harder, forcing the breath from her lungs and her eyes to close shut. You take the initiative and pull yourself from her, thrusting back in almost as hard as you can, pausing there as you loosen your grip. 
Her eyes flash open as she inhales, a pitiful whine falling from her chest. “Fuck, Jake, just go…please, keep going…” she breathes, digging her nails into the skin of your back. 
“Feeling needy now, baby? What switched, huh?” you pant, feeling her squeeze herself around you. You pull out slowly, completely disconnecting yourself from her. Your hand is still balanced across her throat, waiting again for the opportune moment. “Ignore me all damn day, fuck…”
She bites her lips in as you hover above her, not wanting to give her the satisfaction of being fucked at her will. She stays quiet. 
“Nothing to say now?” You ask, gliding your tip along her wetness as you hear her breath hitch. 
“You’re the one who should have something to say, Jacob,” she bites, giving you a stern look of defiance. 
You huff in discernment, knowing exactly what she means, but still unable to go through with any conversation. She raises an eyebrow, her fingers still digging into your muscles. You're absolutely throbbing, your body begging you to get back to the task at hand. 
“It’s okay, I know you were preoccupied all day, watching my texts come over your phone… I was alone all day, wondering why you were the one to leave me high and dry this time…” you squeeze your fingers around her neck again as you thrust forward into her with a devilish grin, watching her face contort. You pick up the pace now, using your free hand to balance above her. 
Still yet though, she stays silent, leaving the room open for you to speak on what has been clouding both of your minds since Sam walked out the door last night. 
You can’t. You just fucking can’t. 
You continue pounding into her, the sound of your skin slapping together bouncing off the hotel room walls, uncaring of who could hear as they passed by in the hallway. Her whines become more desperate as your grip on her neck tightens, but you need her to know you’re serious about this, about how she blew you off without hardly a word. 
You pull yourself from her, standing onto the floor and reaching to turn her body around to lie on her stomach. You grip her ankles, yanking her down to stand on the floor with you before you press her top half down onto the bed, effectively bending her in half. 
You re-enter her from behind, gripping a hand in her hair as you turn her head to the side. Her cheeks are pink and puffy, her eyes glazed over with pleasure. Your thrusts feel unhinged and sloppy as you feel the sweat pooling between your eyebrows and across your chest. 
“Tell me you’re mine, Y/N…” you lean down, growling in her ear. “Say this is more than just sleeping together…”
She takes a sharp inhale as you drive yourself particularly deep. “I’m not yours, Jacob…that’s the thing. You—you never told me you wanted something m-more than this…” she breathes. 
You grit your teeth as you realize she’s right yet again. I’m not yours…
When you don’t answer her, she speaks up again. “D-do you want to be…mine?” She coos, almost a whisper that stands out against the loud obscenities happening in the room. 
Fuck… there it is, the fourth wall, broken. 
You open your mouth to answer her, yes, yes! I want to be yours, I want you to be mine… but only air escapes your lips. Suddenly when you look down at the beautiful woman you’re having sex with, all you can see is Isla. 
All you can feel is guilt. All you can experience is remorse, and regret, and wrongfulness…
You feel like a shell of yourself. This isn’t right, you and Isla are done. Over with. You can’t stand the thought of being with anyone else except Y/N even if you tried. 
But there, the image of the gorgeous face of your first love is burying itself deep into the fibers of your being. 
You don’t love Isla anymore. Your subconscious is just telling you you need to make this right. 
“Jake…” her voice pulls you from your thoughts. “Guess I’ll take that as a no…”
You pull her hair again, lifting her body back to stand with yours, back to chest. “You take that as no one else can fuck you like I do…no one else can make you feel like I can, isn’t that right, baby?” you crow, avoiding the subject altogether. Stupid. Fucking stupid. 
You continue fucking into her, her hands reaching back behind you to twist into your hair as you feel her getting closer; your words making her come unraveled. “Tell me I’m right, tell me it’s just me…”
She keeps quiet as she steps one knee followed by the other onto the bed, arching her back and stepping her knees apart for you to sink more deeply into her. Fuck, this view…
“God damnit baby, you don’t know what you do to me…” you purr, grabbing her asscheeks with both hands as your thrusts become erratic and jagged, you almost forget that she didn’t answer you. 
Her cries become deafeningly high as your fingers dig into her, unbridled and vicious, both of you searching for that high you are so close to reaching. 
“Ja-aaake…” she cries, her legs shaking and jerking as you feel her muscles fluttering around you as she unravels, and you aren't far behind. You pull out, sending your streams across her back as your vision blinds you with white light. 
You both stay in that position for a minute or so as you catch your breath, skin hot and dripping as you feel the weight of the situation come down over you. You slip to the bathroom to get her a warm cloth, returning back to the room to get her cleaned up. 
As the two of you lay spent and sweaty on the sheets you hear her phone buzz on the dresser and realize you left yours in your room. You roll towards her as she reaches for it, swiping away a calendar notification with a gentle sigh. You press a kiss to her bare shoulder, watching her eyes blink slowly as she looks at the screen. You want to talk to her. You want to tell her everything that happened between you and Isla. Everything that is still happening. But again, you fear ruining what feels like such a perfect moment with something so dark and twisted.
“Early day tomorrow,” she says, her voice tired. 
“Yeah, I think we have a few interviews before soundcheck,” you confirm. “Though, I don’t know what time. I left my phone in my room.”
“How come?”
“Oh, um, no reason. Just didn’t need it. You’re the only person I wanted to talk to I suppose,” you answer.
“You should probably check, you might have to be up early too,” she grins. 
“I guess I could go grab it,” you smile back, feeling a warmth in your chest that she doesn't want you to leave. 
You stand up from the bed, pulling your sweats back on and your shirt over your head. You pull your room key from your pocket and just as you are about to speak she stops you. 
“I’ll see you in the morning?”
Oh. Oh you got this all wrong. 
Fuck. 
You clear your throat in surprise, “Oh um. Yeah, yeah I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Goodnight, Jake…”
“Night, beautiful,” you answer, walking towards her door. You step through the doorway feeling more confused than you ever had. After the sex, what she said, everything in between, her actions were not meeting up with her words. 
You spend the entire walk back to your room thinking about it. You just got booty called and kicked to the curb. While this is typically something that wouldn’t bother you, tonight it did. It stings a little, mostly because it was her. You try not to think too much more about it as your door shuts behind you, and as you step over to find your phone right where you left it, you see a missed call from Isla, only driving in the knife in your chest a little deeper. 
HER POV
As you rip the plastic covering off a veggie tray, you hear the green room door squeak open, revealing the smiling face of Murph popping inside. 
“Hey, you all good in here?” he asks, glancing around to find you alone and busy. “Need a hand with anything?”
You grin and shake your head side to side. “No, I’m all good, thanks. You not busy rushing around chasing after those four?”
He bites his upper lip. “Um, yes. I am. Just wanted to say hello.” His hand slaps the wooden door as you give him a thankful smile, and it swings closed as he leaves you alone again. 
Just wanted to say hello, huh?
Your chest feels warm at his little sentiment, as careless as it was. The morning spent with him was nothing short of a mental reset, seeing as how the life you’ve been living with Jake now feels like a rollercoaster that’s about to break apart at the highest point. You’d spent your morning laughing and sharing stories with Murph as he expertly navigated the streets of Paris, your mind effortlessly drifting away from the impending drama that Ruth had discovered. Murph took your mind off it without even trying.
You hear your text notification ding on your phone as you finalize the craft table, and you pull it out to see a text from Ruth. 
Ruth
4:59PM: You’re still ignoring him, right? Not giving him the time of fucking day, RIGHT?
You
5:00PM: Well, yes and no…
Ruth
5:00PM: BITCH? What do you mean????
You dust your hands off and take a seat on the couch, crossing your legs and remembering that someone could invade your privacy at any given minute. 
You
5:01PM: We kinda… hooked up again last night?
Ruth
5:02PM: ALKSJFLSKGFHLKSDJFBNL
5:02PM: Please tell me you’re fucking joking…
You
5:03PM: 😬
Ruth
5:03PM: Oh my fucking goddddd Y/N okay. Okay! It’s fine. I hate you, what the fuck?
You
5:04PM: I DONT KNOW! Listen. I was trying to give him an opportunity to talk to me. And he didn’t. If it’s any consolation, he tried to act all big and bad about hooking up, and I didn’t play into it AT ALL. In fact I kicked him out promptly after.
Ruth
5:06PM: I’m screaming into the void.
5:06PM: So what now?
You
5:06PM: Now nothing. I’m back to avoiding him.
Ruth
5:06PM: Ok slay I guess.
You
5:07PM: And I guess that we will go out tonight after the show.
Ruth
5:02PM: Just the two of you? Or is Hottie McSexy coming along too?
You
5:03PM: Everyone usually goes. And seeing as how it’s his job to be up their asses, I’m positive McSexy will be there too.
Ruth
5:04PM: Okay and maybe The Rat will take this opportunity to explain to you that he has a female counterpart waiting for him at home, yes? Since he didn’t do it before FUCKING YOU last night?
You
5:05PM: I’m hoping. Until then, I ignore him harder. 
Ruth
5:05PM: That’s my boo thang. Lmk how it goes.
You scroll up in your texts with Ruth, seeing the dreaded screenshots of Jake with her, sitting comfortably together on what you imagine to be their porch swing. She’s so fucking pretty… he’d be stupid to let her go? 
You take a deep breath, the reminder of it all making you build your wall up even higher. You glance at his backpack sitting in the corner where he always tends to leave it, making the decision that tonight, you won’t fulfill his request for grabbing his wine. Honestly, he can figure something else out. There are plenty of options in the refrigerator. Fuck it. 
You stay absent when they take the stage, requesting that Paul hand them their drinks tonight, as you have a “female emergency” to attend to in the restroom. Complete lie, but he doesn’t ask questions. You hide away in the restroom as you envision Jake’s confusion when Paul doesn’t have a drink to hand him. Paul normally doesn’t have much to do during the actual shows, so grabbing a drink or two for Jake shouldn’t be an issue. 
After about ten minutes of hiding you rejoin Paul, noticing that he had grabbed a few seltzers for Jake and lined them up beside his amp. Ha ha. Watching the show alone from side stage feels strange tonight as Ty, Mia, and Lyla have decided to stand on Sam’s side. You hang back in the wings a bit, distracting yourself from watching Jake try his best to get your attention for the entirety of the show. But you don’t let him get the best of you, intentionally ripping your eyes away from him each and every time eye contact is made.
After the encore, you energetically hand Josh, Danny, and Sam their towels, showing little to no emotion in the act of handing Jake his, at all. You have to let him know you’re upset. And if he doesn’t pick up on your body language and lack of communication, he will at least notice your blatant ignorance of his existence. 
You fall into the middle of the group as everyone exits backstage toward the green room. “Hey, Y/N, talk to me…” you hear him say from behind you as he grabs your hand, pulling you back from following everyone else down the dimly lit hallway. “What’s going on?” he asks when you finally turn, his eyes full of heavy sorrow. 
You rip your hand from his grasp, his touch feeling like a foreign stranger. “Nothing, Jake,” you lie, biting your tongue and turning to walk away. 
“Hey, please, talk to me…” he begs, his hand raking across your back as you turn away. “I know I… we need to talk, I think…” his voice is strained over the loud sound of the exit song. 
“You think?” you bark back, making harsh eye contact with him for the first time all night. He’s left speechless as Murph makes his way up behind you, pulling you away from the moment. He shines his flashlight onto the ground in front of Jake, ushering him along. 
“Come on Jake, let’s get you out of here…” Murph pushes without even giving you a passing glance.
Jake gives him a quick look of distaste before giving you an up down, and following behind Murph as they make their way down the remainder of the hallway. You’re left standing alone in the darkness under the high metal beams of the stage, feeling more conflicted than ever. And not to mention, still seething with anger. 
Your hands feel shaky as you busy yourself with cleaning up the food and drinks in the green room, your face flushed and your hearing muddled as the anger courses its way through your veins. It’s hot and loud, the guys all still amped up on post-show adrenaline and wanting to continue on their highs for the night. 
“Where are we headed, guys?” Mia asks as she sits herself down on the couch.
“Ah, me Jake and Ty found a quiet little place earlier today, it was tiny and tucked away, we could go back there?” Josh speaks up, still clad in his shiny jumpsuit. You try your best to tune them out, pressing play on your phone to listen to whatever music was playing on your singular earbud. 
“Doooooo they have… cheap beer?” Sam sings. 
“I don't know about cheap, but they have beer…” Ty replies through a laugh. 
“Perfect!” Sam yells as he stands from his seat. “Let us go!”
You notice how quiet Jake has stayed, a switch from his normal partaking in the rambunctiousness of post-show excitement with his brothers. You hear them all begin to get themselves together and file out. You know one of them is going to ask if you’re coming along, they always do. So you muster up the courage to make a decision, when all you really want to do is retreat back to your hotel room bed for the night. 
But no. You know what?
“Y/N! You coming?” you hear Ty’s voice bellow over the group. You turn and catch his eyes as you watch him wink at you. He nods his head in a ‘come on’ motion. Ty always knows.
Out of the corner of your eye you see Jake pause, waiting for your answer. 
“Yeah, I could use a drink tonight!” you say. “I’ll finish up here and be right behind you. Send me the address?”
“Sure thing, see you in a bit,” Ty responds. “It’s literally right around the corner.”
—--
You saunter confidently into the pub, finding your whole group to have taken up the majority of the place, it’s so small. Just like always, your eyes immediately click with Jake’s first, and when he doesn’t break the contact, you pull yourself away, latching on to Ty and Josh at the other end of the bar. 
Just like in the green room, the air is heavy and hazy and loud, everyone still riding their highs and letting the drinks flow. You decide on something a little heavier tonight, knowing that you abso-fucking-lutely deserve it after the day you’d endured. 
You catch sight of Murph posted in a corner booth, chewing on a toothpick as his head stays on a swivel. He catches you looking, giving you a tiny smile before letting his eyes scan the room again. 
You make yourself at home on a barstool, and just before lifting a round of shots into the air with Ty and Josh, you feel Jake’s presence behind you again, interrupting you. You meet him with a questioning look, obviously perturbed at the feeling of his hand on your back as you try to celebrate with his twin. 
“Go ahead,” he concedes, motioning for you to take the shot. So you do, never looking away from him as you let the liquor flow down your throat, urging yourself to not make a face as you swallow it down. 
“Can I help you with something?” you ask, your voice sounding a little more vengeful than you’d meant to. The liquor is definitely already working. His face pulls back, shocked at your words. He almost looks hurt. 
“Shit, I guess not…” he says. “I’ve just been–”
“Jake! Come here!” you hear Danny yell from a few tables away. “Hurry!”
Jake looks at Danny and back at you, and you raise your eyebrows toward him, urging him to go on. You can’t talk here. Not in this environment. And honestly, you’re having way too much fun getting drunk and ignoring him while you steal passing glances with Murph from across the room. 
After a little while, Murph comes and sits at the barstool beside you, talking to Josh while you sit between them. They’re discussing something work-related, but Murph is purposefully leaning in to you, his toned torso brushing heavily into your shoulder. You’re not really listening to them, as your mind has gone absolutely fuzzy at the feeling of him touching you. What the fuckkkkkk. The tequila lining your veins most definitely isn’t helping the fact that you are wholeheartedly loving this, knowing that Jake is standing three feet away, watching it all unfold. And the best part is, you’re locked into your bar stool, unable to get up if you wanted to. They’ve caged you in. 
“Isn’t that right, Y/N?” you hear Murph’s silky smooth drawl interrupt your thoughts. 
“What? What?” you perk up. 
“The twenty cases of water we loaded will most likely be gone in a week and a half, yeah?” he says, rolling the toothpick between his teeth as his eyes stay bouncing around the room. 
“Oh! Yeah, actually, probably so, with the way the crew drinks it,” you agree, not really caring about the subject as Josh laughs it off. 
“Murph, you know you’re horrible at paying attention to conversations?” you say without a shadow of a filter. 
“What?” he asks through a smile. 
“Your eyes. You never stop looking around. You hardly ever look someone in the eye when they’re talking to you…” you go on explaining. Josh has now abandoned the conversation, turning back to Ty. 
You feel Murph lean in even closer to you, his mouth only inches from your ear. “I’m trained to watch, Y/N. Trained to always be aware, all of the time. But, I can assure you, when I’m not on the job, my attention is 100% focused on who I’m spending my time with.”
His words make your stomach swirl. “Mmm, I’d have to see it to believe it.”
He pulls back, his neck still twisting right to left to right again. “Maybe you will sometime.”
Just then, you feel your phone buzz in your lap, and you lift it to see a notification through the blurriness of your intoxicated vision. 
‘Jake Added A Song to Your Shared Playlist: 🐥’
Your stomach drops as you know he is watching you see the notification. You open the playlist, scrolling to the bottom to see what in the hell he could have added right now. 
Of course, ‘Don’t Let Me Down’ by the Beatles. 
You scoff, feeling like if anyone is being let down, it’s you. You let your phone fall back into your lap before turning your attention back to your drink and to your conversation with Murph. You know Jake is watching, still, and you know that seeing you ignore him was only pissing him off more. 
And for some reason, it gets you hot. 
Stop it, Y/N, fuck. The horrid and ridiculous thoughts of Jake being jealous of you and the man sitting beside you has your stomach in excited knots, and you know it’s just the alcohol, but you’d be lying if you said it didn’t absolutely turn you on, similarly to what had happened last night. 
You feel the energy in the room shift as everyone begins to make moves to leave. You feel a little sad, realizing that your intoxication has only just hit its peak. “Aw, we leaving already?” you ask no one in particular. 
“Looks that way…” Murph says as he stands from his stool. You catch sight of Jake sticking close to Josh and Danny as they make their way to the exit. 
“Murph, my friend, why don’t you take the rest of the night off?” Dean says as he comes up behind you, laying a hand on Murph’s shoulder. “Monty and Sasha and I have got this, not a far walk back.”
“Oh, no no, it’s okay. I’m good…” he argues. 
“Ah, come on, Murph! Stayyyyyy…” you beg playfully, giving him yearning eyes. But they were for good reason, you want him to stay. 
“You’ve had a long day, kid. Rest of us relaxed while you loaded water. Stay. Have a beer or three…” Dean gives him no choice as he makes a quick exit, ushering the rest of the group out the door. Jake never even turns around. 
“Well! Uh, that’s never happened before!” Murph says as he anxiously rubs his hands over his pants. “Guess uh, guess I’m off the clock?”
“Ha, ha! Guess you are!” you say confidently, sipping from your skinny straw. “Sir, this gentleman will have your largest pils,” you motion to the bartender, earning a nod. 
“Oh, you ordering for me now?” Murph laughs, turning sideways in his stool to face you.
“Yeah, got a problem?” you say, bumping your shoulder into him and feeling more confident now that you aren’t under the watchful eye of everyone else. 
The bartender sets the beer on a coaster in front of Murph, and he reaches for a salt shaker, sprinkling a little onto the foamy head of the draft. “Nah, no problem at all, ma’am.”
“Ma’am?!” you exclaim. “Aren’t I a little young to be referred to as that?” you ask. 
He shakes his head as he takes a drink. “No, where I’m from, everyone of equal age or older is referred to as ma’am, or sir. ‘S just how I was raised, not meant to be offensive.”
“Oh,” you say, still surprised. “Of equal age, how do you know how old I am?” you press. 
He sets his beer down, rubbing his hands against each other. You catch sight of his calloused palms and gritted fingernails, being instantly attracted that he works with his hands. “Well, I know you’re over twenty-three, twenty-four because, obviously, you have no problem holding your liquor… you’re not over thirty-five, because you just called a beer a Pils. You have experience in your profession and you hold yourself well, and you got really excited and knew all the words when that Nickelback song randomly came on the radio in the truck this morning.”
Oh, my god? He… pays attention…
“Sooo…” you mutter. 
“So, I’m going to guess… twenty-six.”
Your jaw falls open. “Holy shit.”
He smiles smugly as he takes a large drink of his beer, reaching his hand up to pat himself on the back. 
“How did you do that?” you ask, stunned. 
He shrugs. “It’s a gift, I’m also trained to read people.” He leans in, giving you a playfully suspicious glare. 
“Okay, so read something else,” you urge, sitting up taller in your seat. 
You feel the skin on your chest turn red as you try to hold your confidence. He takes a deep breath, scanning his eyes all over you. “Something is bothering you tonight. You don’t normally drink tequila, only when you’re trying to forget about something, distract yourself. You keep checking your phone but you’re keeping it face-down, so you don’t get caught off guard by a notification. You’re choosing when you let yourself look at it, telling me you like to be in control of situations.  And, if I had to guess, what’s bothering you has something to do with that important call you missed this morning.”
Holy shit…again. What the…
“Alright, alright, you can stop now,” you wave him off, turning away and sipping from your straw again. 
You hear him laugh through his nose. “Told you, it’s a gift.”
“Yeah well, you– you’re too good,” you bark. 
His hand gently sits on your arm, the warmth emanating off his palm. “Hey, just forget about it, whatever it is. We’re here to have some fun, huh?”
His words are friendly and reassuring as you feel that same swirl erupt in your stomach again. “Yeah, you’re right,” you concede. “Fun. Actually, ever since they left, your eyes haven’t scanned the room even once.”
He blushes. “I can relax, Y/N, if given the opportunity.” His eyes fall to your lips, and you watch as he sucks in a tight breath, feeling no embarrassment that you caught him in the act. You reach your tongue to swipe across your bottom lip, taking the entirety of him in with your eyes, too. Suddenly visions of you and Jake last night come flying back into your memory, but you push them away, knowing that it’s only your subconscious telling you you’re about to make a rash decision. But you go against your gut, knowing that you had given Jake more than enough chances to make things right. And he had taken exactly zero of them. 
You place a hand on the edge of your stool, leaning in closer to him. “Are you enjoying your opportunity?” you whisper. 
You feel the unfamiliar but welcome graze of his light touch on your thigh, his hand barely ghosting up from your knee. “Very, very much so…”
There’s a heavy pause in the conversation as the two of you inch in closer, so close that you can feel his exhales hitting your lips. His eyes are darting quickly across your face as you feel his breathing pick up a little, the warmth of his body physically pouring itself on to you. Your heart is beating so fast you can hardly stand it, and the anticipation of his proximity is making you more dizzy than the tequila did. 
You breathe in heavily through your nose, the smell of his cologne finally making sense in your mind. Pine. He smells like pine.
As your lips barely ghost his, a zap of electricity courses through your body, and Jake is the absolute furthest thing from your mind. All you can think about is Murph. All you can feel is him, he’s surrounding you, clouding up your mind entirely…
His breath hitches at the tiniest bit of contact that’s made and you take a second to press into him a little further. 
“Murph…” you whisper against him. “What’s your real name?”
You can tell he’s holding himself back, letting you be the one to make the attempt to finally connect the two of you. Your eyes flutter closed as your ears go almost completely deaf, taking in the feeling of the softness of his lips as they smile sweetly against yours. 
“Ezra… Ezra Murphy,” he breathes. 
“Ezra…” you repeat, kissing into his mouth with the utmost caution while letting all of your insecurities tumble down around you. Suddenly there’s no sound, there’s no light, there’s no air left in your lungs… just him, only him, and the tightness of his hand on your thigh as he kisses you back. You lean into him, opening your mouth just a little bit more to let him in. His thick mustache is rough on your skin, but you couldn’t care less. You feel his tongue barely press through before pulling back again… the tiny breaths going in and out through his nose only adding to the sweet taste of him. His other hand finds your cheek, his thumb drifting across your chin as his fingertips gently grip at your skull. Fuck, he feels good… he feels really, really fucking good…
You exhale hard as you disconnect the fairly quick kiss, a stunned and surprised look of intrigue taking over both your haughty expressions. “Wow…” you mutter. 
“Yeah, wow…” he parrots. “I’ve wanted to do that all night…”
“Uh-uhm…” you hear someone behind him clear their throat. You both disconnect contact as you turn around, finding none other than Josh holding his credit card between his two fingers, tapping its edge on the bar. “Sorry to uh, interrupt…” he says, forcing a fake smile. “Forgot my card.”
Fuck. Shiiiiiit. Oh fuck fuck fuck.
“Oh, no big deal, man. You uh, you need me to walk you back?” Murph collects himself, turning directly back into work mode. 
“No no, stay here. Monty’s outside,” Josh responds, looking directly at you. “You two enjoy the rest of your evening.”
Josh walks away and disappears through the door as you’re left completely stunned, unable to form a thought. Murph spins back around to face you, a little bit taken aback himself. “That was kinda awkward…” he laughs. 
“You think?” you try to laugh along, all the while feeling an overwhelming wave of emotions. 
Embarrassed, confused, pissed, turned on…
“Um. You uh, you ready to go back?” Murph asks, wiping his fingers across his lips as he throws some money down onto the bar. 
“Think that’s probably best,” you agree, standing to grab your jacket off the back of the stool. 
As you and Murph walk silently back to the hotel, the alcohol hits you a little differently, adding heavier emotions than you could bear to carry. You want to reach out and grab his hand, let him steady you as you stumble your way back home, but you know that’s not in your best interest, right now. He gives you tiny smiles and offers to open the lobby doors, letting you walk inside before him to the elevator doors. 
You both climb inside as the doors close behind you. “You want me to walk you the rest of the way up?” he asks, knowing he is getting off a few floors before you. 
You lean your back against the wall of the elevator, crossing your arms across your chest. “No, I’ll be okay. Thank you, though.” Your voice feels heavier as the elevator ascends. 
Finally, the elevator stops and the doors open to his floor. “Wait, Murph…” you stop him. He turns back to face you, his hand stopping the doors from closing. “I uh, I had fun with you, tonight.”
His lips curl up into a small smile. “Me too, Y/N. Thanks for helping me relax, I’m actually a little sad it got cut short…” he says.
“Me, too,” you agree with a nod, and he steps back from the sliding doors, offering you a wave of goodnight before the doors enclose you and your thoughts completely.
As you walk back into your hotel room ready to strip down and let the warmth of the covers envelop you again, you somehow wish you could take it all back. Wish you would have never been seated next to Jake on that very first flight. Wish you would have never followed him into that random bar bathroom…
Your mind is so fuzzed up it almost feels blank. You like Jake, you really do. But the longer he waits to tell you the truth, the more resentment you hold toward him. The last thing you want to be is someone who destroys a home. The shame you feel for even texting him last night is one of the heaviest you’ve ever felt in your life. 
And Murph, his protection… blissfully unaware of the entire situation at all, being a gentleman and treating you with open kindness. Fuck. It’s all so fucked. 
You’re feeling your eyelids start to droop as you hear your phone buzz beside you, the light blinking you awake. 
It’s not a text, though…it’s an instagram notification. 
There in the center of your screen is a request from Jake’s partner herself. 
Ms. Isla J. Whitman would like to be your friend. 
Isla…
.
.
.
.
.
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pennylanefics · 1 day
Text
Riptide - Andrei Svechnikov
a/n: i'm in no way glorifying this kind of accident, but the idea just kind of came to me. it's a kind of angsty and heavy one, and if this is insensitive, please let me know and i will rework it. i didn't really know what else to do for this prompt :/
summary: andrei wants to take you on a beach trip but a traumatic event keeps you from going with him
word count: ~1.4k
Warnings: descriptions of riptide accident, mentions of death/injury, mentions of drowning
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Andrei loved going on adventures and spending time away from the city during the off-season. Since their season ended, you’ve already gone on a weekend trip to the mountains, flown out to New York to see a Broadway show and a few other activities, and now, Andrei wanted to take a day trip to the beach.
There was one thing that you had yet to tell Andrei about, even though you’ve been dating for almost a year: you have a terrible fear of the ocean. 
He’s tried getting you to come to the beach with him on trips to California or Florida, but you always make a believable excuse, how you’d rather go shopping at the mall with a few of the girls, or how you just simply didn’t want to go because you didn’t want to deal with sand everywhere.
He believed all of them, up until now, when he was trying to convince you to go with him and a few of the guys that wanted to take a small trip three hours away.
“Why don’t you ever want to go with me?” He wonders out of curiosity. You sigh as you set your book down, placing your bookmark in the place you left off. Andrei came back into the living room with a bowl of oatmeal for himself, plopping down beside you.
“Because the beach isn’t really my favorite. I prefer the mountains,” you say, but Andrei’s not taking it anymore.
“Is it something to do with me? You don’t want to be seen with me? Are you insecure? Because if so, you don’t even have to wear a bathing suit if you don’t want to, I-”
“No, Andrei, it’s not that, it’s really hard for me to talk about and I get anxious talking about it, so can we please leave it alone?”
Andrei groans in frustration, setting his half full bowl down on the table. He hunches forward and lets out a sigh.
“Could you just tell me? I’m starting to believe you don’t want to spend time with me. I really want to go there with you and I feel like you’re lying to avoid something. Or you don’t trust me.”
“I’m not lying, I just…don’t want to talk about it, please.” You pick your book back up, tears tingling in your eyes as he raises his voice slightly.
He shakes his head and storms out of the living room with his food. You breathe in and out deeply, the tears not being able to stay in any longer. Deep down, you knew he was right. He did deserve to know why you despised beaches, but it was a very traumatic memory that you don’t like to bring up or explain often.
Andrei had finished his food in the kitchen before he trudges up the stairs to your shared bedroom. You hear the door click shut rather loudly, most likely a result from him slamming it, and your shoulders shake with a sob.
After twenty minutes of just sitting and staring at the wall and your hands, you decide it’s time to make things right. Getting up from your spot, you slowly make your way up the stairs, pausing once more when you get to the bedroom.
Taking a deep breath, you step inside, finding Andrei laying in bed, a book propped up on his legs. He doesn’t pay any mind to you as you enter, taking a seat on the end of the bed.
“I got stuck in a riptide,” you whisper, facing forward towards the dresser, not seeing Andrei’s reaction. His eyebrows furrow together and he sets his book aside. He still doesn’t say anything, but his attention is fully on you.
“I was sixteen. My entire extended family took a trip down to Florida for a week during the summer. Everything was going just fine. Until one day, the currents were so bad, but they didn’t have any warnings posted. Next thing I know, I’m being dragged out away from my family, unable to break from it. I was under the water for almost a couple minutes, struggling. I was pulled from it by a lifeguard who was close by. If he hadn’t been coming over to check, I most likely would have died.”
You try to keep the tears in, but it’s no use. Recalling the story and remembering the exact feeling of every single second of that day, from having fun, to being under the water, to coming to on the beach, your family surrounding you. It was horrific. Andrei’s own eyes filled with tears as he hears the emotion and fear in your voice.
“I have never gone back to the beach or in the ocean since that day. And I refuse to. That’s why I never want to go with you. It’s too hard to relive, it’s terrible to even think of going to the beach and having all those memories and feelings rush back.”
Andrei remains quiet as he throws the comforter off of him and moves to sit beside you. Carefully, he reaches for your left hand and holds it between both of his larger hands, squeezing them here and there. 
“I’m so sorry to hear that, hun. I understand why you wouldn’t want to go to a place like that anymore.”
“I’m sorry for not telling you. It was easier to brush it off and not think about it or explain, but I realize how that came off as not wanting to go with you. But I don’t even go with my family. They still take a trip down to either Florida or Alabama every year and I don’t go with them anymore. Haven’t since I was sixteen.”
“I’m not mad at you. I was frustrated because it felt like you were keeping something from me. I mean, you were, but this is different than what I was thinking,” he states, gazing over at you with a soft grin. “I am happy that you felt safe enough to tell me.”
“I trust you more than anything, Svech. I simply didn’t want to face reliving those moments by telling you. Which I just did, but my head is spinning so bad.”
“It’s okay,” he murmurs, scooting closer to you and wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “I’m proud of you for facing that fear and telling me.”
“It’s a scary thing but I knew you deserved to know. I felt bad for keeping it from you but I couldn’t bring myself to tell you. It was horrifying.”
“Do you mind telling me a little more?” With a pause and a deep breath, you nod and turns towards him. He takes your hand in his again, a comforting gesture in this vulnerable moment. “Did you have to go to the hospital?”
“I did. They had to make sure there wasn’t too much water in my lungs. I was there for a couple days, my family took turns on who came to visit and stay with me because I didn’t want to be alone.”
“Who would? That’s not something that anyone should go through, especially at such a young age,” he sighs quietly, stroking his thumb over the back of your hand. “Did you go home after that? Or were you forced to stay there until the end of your vacation?”
“My immediate family drove home as soon as I got out of the hospital. They didn’t want me staying there and being scared. I couldn’t stop crying, so we left.”
“It’s good they were understanding of your feelings instead of putting their vacation needs over it,” he laughs softly, looking over your expression. His eyes were filled with sympathy, hating that you were still struggling with the experience nearly ten years later.
“I guess. Maybe it was because their daughter nearly died, vacationing wasn’t exactly a fun idea anymore,” you joke, leaning into his shoulder. “But yeah, I still have that fear and even the sight of a beach can trigger it. So believe me, I want to travel with you and take trips with you, but the beach is the last place I want to go.”
“I get it, baby. No need to worry at all, alright? I will plan a different sort of trip that we can both enjoy, yeah? I want the best for you, and I never want to put you in any sort of danger.”
“I love you, Svech,” you sigh, leaning up to kiss him. His hand cradles your cheek, holding you against him. “I love you too. Everything will be alright. I promise.” He kisses your head and holds you tight against him. “How about a trip to Colorado?”
You smile against his shirt and nod in agreement.
“Now that I can get on board with.”
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morurui · 7 hours
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CHAOS THEORY SPOILER REVIEW
Cause I just finished it and I have thoughts!
Sooooo I honestly have mixed feelings about Chaos Theory if I’m going to be honest I feel like there are some things that worked in my opinion and some things that didn’t really work for me so I’ll be separating this review into three parts: Things I liked, Things I wasn’t a fan of, and General thoughts.
Things I liked:
-The animation was absolutely gorgeous, it was such a step up from Camp Cretaceous that it’s weird to think that they’re apart of the same series. The team behind it did an absolutely amazing job!
-The last two episodes. Oh my god were those last two episodes so good, they had me at the edge of my seat as well as episode 10 finally giving us interactions between the entirety of the nublar 5
-YASAMMY. I think yasammy was done so well this season. Their fight was so real, nobody was totally in the wrong, but they both weren’t communicating their feelings to each other well and they resolved it in the end. It was just perfect
-Yasmina Fadoula. She was written so well I loved how they didn’t just completely forget she has PTSD and anxiety and included that in her character arc for this season. I also loved how they used her to address how bad it is to infantilize those with mental disorders. (Yaz and I are anxiety twins 🧘‍♀️)
-Mateo. The GOAT. I am the number one Mateo fan, dont ever forget it. I love that man and I will stand by him, I was stressing for his life during episode 10.
-Microbang villain girl was such a menacing villain at the end and I honestly love her. It’s clear that while she is using the atrociraptors for evil deeds she does clearly care for them. I desperately need to know more about her…
-Kenji and Brooklynn’s new voice actors do such a good job with the characters and while I’ll miss Jenna and Ryan, their new voices were casted very well!
Things I wasn’t a big fan of:
-Now to address the elephant in the room…Darius being in love with Brooklynn. (I’m going to try to look at this through an objective pov, but since I don’t ship dinostar obviously there’ll be a slight bias)(nothing wrong if you do ship Dinostar I’m happy for you, but these are just my feelings) Im not a big fan of this. To me I’ve never really read Darius and Brooklynn as being romantic together and their friendship is something I truly cherished about JWCC. I do see why they probably decided to make the decision to have Darius be in love with Brooklynn, but to me it’s kind of upsetting in a way to have Darius’s extreme grief response not be just because they were best friends. It feels like the writers were saying “Well, he’s not experiencing this grief so hard because she was his best friend, but it’s actually because he loves her!”. We’ve seen loss be something Darius takes extremely hard (His dad’s death and Ben’s death) and so I don’t really see why they made it so he was in love with her to justify his response when it’s in character without it. Idk man…
-Brooklynn being alive….HEAR ME OUT HEAR ME OUT. THIS IS NOT BECAUSE I HATE BROOKLYNN SHES ACTUALLY ONE OF MY FAVORITE CHARACTERS. But idk these fake out deaths are starting getting to wear me down. Even Bumpy had a fake out death 😭. I get why they kept her alive being as she is a beloved character, but I just think it would’ve been better for her to be a character that somewhat haunts the narrative. It adds more onto the mystery, not only that but it allows the nublar five to explore “Hey our friend was hiding things from us and we’ll never truly get answers, but we’re going to find out what lead to her death and put a stop to it”. Which was what the nublar five are on a path to, until Brooklynn inevitably shows back up and explains everything. Also why did they give her the 2017 Katy Perry haircut…
-Kenji and Darius’s dynamic. I loved how they used their dynamic at the beginning of the show with Kenji blaming Darius for Brooklynn’s death, but beyond that moment their dynamic felt off to me. It was not helped by the whole Darius being in love with Brooklynn thing, but it just felt like they toned down their brotherly bond in this show (ironic since this is the first time we see them call themselves brothers)
General thoughts
-Jesus Christ was Kenji this shows punching bag 😭. He literally does not get a break, it just keeps on coming, breaking up with his girlfriend because she’s not invested in their relationship anymore, living in a trailer with a failing rock climbing business, his girlfriend kept secrets from him all while working with his estranged dad behind his back, his dad trying to use him again and then dying saving him, AND his brother was in love with his ex girlfriend. All in the span of ten episodes. If I was him I would have a mental breakdown every single day.
-Do yall think Ben actually has a girlfriend? I’m like at a 70/40 split, because he only talks about her two times and the first time he brings her up she totally sounds fake. “She’s from…Europe” Why did you have to think so much Benjamin? Also he fully just said she’s from the continent of Europe rather than a specific country in Europe. Also also it’s implied he hasn’t had a phone on him for a while so how does a long distance relationship work if he doesn’t have any means to contact her??? And he doesn’t even have a picture of her in his van. That man is hiding something I need to know…
-Ben and Darius had like 30-40 minutes of screen time shared between them, which is weird because like most of the show was marketed with them being the main protags and they barely interact beyond episode 4. (Their dynamic was too strong for people to handle “do you talk to your mother with that mouth” broke the world)
-Bumpy having a baby is something I predicted and I’m happy I was right!
Anyway that’s really it, sorry this was pretty long and excuse any typos or grammatical errors, but these were just some of my thoughts!
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miley1442111 · 1 day
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saving me- s.reid
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a/n: fem reader, but as always imagine what you like :)
summary: spencer has to save you before it's too late.
pairing: spencer reid x fem bau! reader
warnings: general cm topics, sexual assault, hostage situation, drugging, the team don't know about you and spencer, injuries, reader gets injured, reader is allergic to opioids, drugs, alergic reaction, knives, guns, reader begs to be killed, spencer shoots someone. (i think that's it, tell me if i missed anything :))
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Another migraine. Another fucking migraine. 
Your life was truly a joke. 
You sat beside Emily in the car, eyes heavy with pain as you profusely rubbed them, the sunlight from the sky beside you far too bright. 
“Y/l/n? Any ideas?” Morgan asked, kicking you softly under the table.
“The unsub will probably be extremely interested in the investigation but they probably won’t bring themselves into it. We’ll end up seeking them out,” you rattled off. 
“Are you alright?” Prentiss whispered. 
“Fine,” you lied. “Just tired eyes.” 
-------------------------------
Spencer’s eyes were on you from the second you’d spoken about your ‘tired eyes’. He was meant to be working up a geological profile, but his focus was completely on you. ‘Tired eyes’, you’d been wearing glasses or contacts all week, you’d been drinking enough liquids, you’d been eating, he assumed you’d slept, you'd been busy most of the week and sleeping at your own apartment instead of his. 
What could cause ‘tired eyes’?
“Reid!” Seaver all but shouted in his ear. 
“Y-yeah? Yes?” He answered, eyes focusing on the map again. 
“Is Y/l/n here?” Rossi asked. 
“W-what? No. I thought she went with Hotch and Prentiss,” he hesitated. 
“She told them she was with us,” Rossi sighed. “So then where is she?”
“I-I don’t know,” Spencer admitted. “I’ll call her.”
Rossi held up your cell phone and Spencer’s stomach dropped.
“Shit,” he cursed.
“Shit is right,” Rossi nodded. 
-------------------------------
It had been 24 hours, you were officially a missing person. You had no idea where you were, someone must’ve drugged you. That hadn’t been a regular migraine. Your head thumped with pain as you struggled against the duct tape around your hands and feet. 
“You’re one beautiful girl, aren’t you?” You could hear the smirk in his voice, feel the way he was watching you. 
You tried to scream but the duct tape around your mouth made it difficult.
“I’m going to enjoy this,” he came closer, into the light. You could see his face. He was a white male, between the ages of 35-40, dad-build, and a sick smirk. 
You didn’t fight back, you couldn’t. You didn’t even notice the camera in the corner. You didn’t know that this was being recorded, or live-streamed directly to Penelope. Penelope, who showed it to the team. To your boyfriend. 
They were watching the worst moment of your life unfold. 
And you had no idea. 
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“Guys,” Penelope squeaked. “This j-just came through,” she showed them her laptop and looked away, tears clouding her vision. 
“Is that-” Derek started
“Y/n,” Aaron finished for him. 
“What about her? Did you find her?” Spencer asked, staring at the group from behind Penelope. “Is she ok?”
The team’s eyes were glued to the screen as Spencer stood there, demanding an answer. 
“Guys what?!” he shouted. “Someone answer me!”
“Come here,” Seaver sighed. Spencer stood beside her and watched in horror as the unsub hurt you. 
“We have to find her,” he stated. “Now.”
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“Please, please just kill me,” you begged. He’d taken the tape off a while ago. “Please kill me.”
“I’m not a necrophiliac,” he laughed in your face. “I like my girls alive.”
“Fuck you,” you sobbed. Blood, dirt, tears, and sweat coating your skin. “Fuck you!”
“I’m actively trying to fuck you,” he laughed again. You hated him. You hated this. You hated everything.  
“Just kill me,” you sobbed. “Please!”
He hit you on the head and you went out again. 
-------------------------------
“FBI!” Morgan’s voice rang out through the warehouse. Spencer was hot on his heels, walking ahead of him and ignoring proper protocol. “Reid!” He ran after him. 
“FBI! Put the knife down!” Spencer shouted at the unsub holding a knife to your throat. Something had gone wrong. He scanned the room quickly. 
“I-I didn’t mean to- I was just-” The unsub stepped away, dropping the knife. “She wasn’t meant to die.”
Die. Dead. You were dead.
Spencer fired his gun without a second thought. He ran over to you and checked your pulse, there but barely. 
“Hotch I need an ambulance!” He shouted. “Y/n, baby, I need you to wake up,” he begged. “Please, please, wake up, I need you Y/n. Please.” 
“Spencer-” Prentiss started but Spencer silenced her with his own words. 
“We’re dating. We have been for a year and a half, don’t you dare tell me to ‘step away’,” he sighed. 
The paramedics rushed in, starting you on an IV. 
“She’s allergic to opioids,” Spencer rattled off. “She can’t have any opioids.”
“Spencer,” Hotch sighed. “She’s had some already,” Hotch pointed to the vials in the corner of the room and the rusty needle beside them. 
Fuck. 
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“So when were you planning on telling us?” Derek sighed as they all sat in the waiting room.
“I don’t know, soon-maybe?”
“A year and a half is a long time,” Emily smiled. “Congratulations.”
Spencer nodded.
“Dr. Reid?” The nurse asked. Spencer shot up and out of his seat. 
“Yes?” 
“Ms. Y/l/n is stable but she is severely hurt. Physically and... mentally. She endured hours of sexual assault and her body and mind reflect that. I suggest someone non-threatening to see her first. Maybe a woman?”
Spencer gulped and nodded. “Emily?”
“Yeah of course,” she nodded, walking behind the nurse as he led her to your room.
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You wanted Spencer. You needed him.
Emily walked in and tears filled your eyes. “Where’s Spencer? Is he ok?”
“He’s fine, they just thought that you’d want someone non-threatening to come in and see you first-” Emily explained. 
“Can you go grab Spencer please?” you sniffled. She smiled and nodded, then left the room. 
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“Spencer?” Emily called into the hall. “She wants you.”
Spencer had never walked faster in his life. 
There you were. Bruises and scratches littering your body and face. Your beautiful face. Your beautiful smile and teary eyes.
“Come here, please,” you whispered. Spencer sat at your side, your hand in his. “Thank you.”
He chuckled sadly. “For what?”
“Saving me. All the time,” you smiled softly.
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criminal minds masterlist :)
navigation for my blog :) (criminal minds, marvel, top gun, challengers, the bear, the hunger games, obx+)
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marvel-snape-writes · 8 hours
Text
I’ve been quite busy travelling lately so haven’t really had chance to properly sit down and make a start on the next request ☹️🫶
HOWEVER… I did write this little bit of needy Snape drabble that will hopefully tide you over until the next one shot 🤭 (I’ve written something rather similar a looong while ago with a different person but I wanted to put a Snape spin on it)
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And this is how it would start every time. A need to feel something, something that would only hit if it was the right person. Hips pressed against hips – clothed. Desperate kisses. Fumbling fingers. Eager to rip the clothes from each other’s bodies, or not even patient enough for that sometimes. Depending on the level of urgency, often it was only the unzipping of trousers and hoist up of a dress that was required for them to get to what they had been craving. It had been happening far too often for it to just be classed as a ‘one off’ now.
“We’re going to miss Dumbledore’s end of year speech.” She giggled flirtatiously.
“Has it not crossed your mind that I am involved in something a little more riveting than Dumbledore’s end of year speech?” Snape spoke lowly against her lips.
She fell willingly victim to his lips again, her fingers lightly pressing into his shoulders as her head tilted briefly.
“Give me…” He inhaled sharply, “One good reason…” His large hands found her hips, “Why I shouldn't just have you right here…”
“Because Dumble-”
“Fuck. That.” He grunted, trapping her bottom lip between his teeth and pulling it out slightly.
“Severus…” She breathed against his lips.
He kissed her once more.
“Mm, Severus…” Her fingers trembled over the opening of his cloak.
He kissed her again. Harder. Desperate. As if he had been without something for so long, whether that be self inflicted or not, and now suddenly found himself having a new sexual lease of life.
“Sev-” She spoke as she heard him whine, pulling her face back so he only kissed the air.
“Something the matter?” He asked in his silkiest tone, attempting to end the question with another kiss but whimpering pathetically when his lips didn't press against anything.
“Dumbl-”
“Want you,” He spoke as their lips touched again, “Want you here,” He inhaled sharply, kissing her again, “Want you now.”
“Severus, you can't even speak in full sentences…” She smirked, though kissing him back each time.
“Don’t care,” His voice was even more muffled through their kiss, now stressing each word with a nudge of his hips pressing her into the cold, stone wall, “Need. This. Now.”
Her arm lifted and she smirked when she heard him grunt against her finger now pressed to his lips.
“Behave yourself now and this evening,” She spoke softly, the fingers on her free hand now dancing along the waistline of his trousers, “And I'll let you do that thing you like so much…”
Severus exhaled shakily through his nose and pursed his lips against the tip of her finger for a few moments before lightly nibbling and then biting it.
“I said…” She gasped when she felt his teeth lightly dig into her skin, “Behave. Yourself.” She spoke each word with a tug on the fastening of his trousers.
Severus’ black eyes glared even more darkly than usual as he watched her through his greasy hair. He freed her finger and hissed through clenched teeth, groaning slightly louder than intended when they heard footsteps coming toward the dark, stone corridor. They both remained quiet, despite their aroused breathing, and waited to see if the footsteps would come any closer, their faces only visible with each flicker of the fire torches upon the walls.
The footsteps stopped, as did their hearts, and then they faded. Severus’ pressed lips slowly parted, dipping his head forward in an attempt to press a desperate kiss to her lips, but only being met with her cheek as she tauntingly turned her head to one side.
Severus exhaled slowly as his lips only briefly skimmed her cheek, however, they were close enough to her ear for her to hear him speak darkly, “Where did you learn to torture me so?”
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I hope you liked this random bit of writing that just fell out of my head and any suggestions of what Sev's ✨thing✨ he likes so much may be will be greatly appreciated if anyone would like it continuing 🤣
Tags! 🫶
@acupnoodle @megladon045 @overgrownbat @hamiltonstann @icytrickster17 @sneepseverus @honeyshampoo @bibliosophie @snifellus @liv2post @eyesinmymindinmay @pinterestwhore145 @dracolilhoe @frequent-apple @nidamae-approvedhpfanfics @hauntinq-6 @dontrunannabelle @dark-t1des @callm3c0nfus3d @slytherinqueen4life @ilovesevsnape @wh0reforthemarauders @sorryimdyingrn @nooneeveryonenoone @mrs-snape5984 @vulnus-sanare @nymphaforesta @missgurlthang @thesecretsofseverussnape @evil-eyebrow @peppiloll @hazedwords
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Text
Snap necks (and snap back)
Simon hated the idea of you, a newbie, at first.
Now, he's focused on making sure you don't run yourself into the ground despite your obvious distrust in him and the others.
TW: Minor Implications of PTSD, Slight Hurt/Comfort (In a Simon way), One shot (for now?), Minor Injury mention
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Simon loved when you kept eye contact. 
“Don’t test me today, Riley.”
It was a sign. 
A sign of what, he wasn’t sure just yet, never having been the type to care if people saw him or saw what had been molded by years of life attempting to drag him down both physically and mentally. 
Not many could handle it—avoiding his eyes entirely or folding in order to show they were the farthest thing from a threat. 
You, however, were not intimidated by his size or the sound of his voice. You never bothered to pry into why he always wore a mask, taking Johnny’s explanation for face value and moving on swiftly from the conversation. Even after hearing about what he looked like through the grapevine, you hadn’t attempted to sneak a peek just to say you’d gotten one over on him. 
In fact, you might have done your best to avoid it—and him—entirely. 
Which made the situation at hand all the more tense: a storm in the making. 
“Ain’t a teacher to be givin’ exams, Spitfire.”
Your jaw rolled as you debated addressing the smart ass comment vs. the unwelcome nickname. 
While everyone had taken to trying out new names every so often without much response, he’d been dead set on what he’d wanted to call you from the get go. Perhaps it would have landed better if not for the fact you and him had never once seen eye to eye on anything, even the smaller things such as what to eat or drink. 
Neither of you had started off on the best footing, if on any at all. 
The idea of a newbie on an already solid team had come as a surprise to them all, for Simon more irritating than helpful. He’d expected a person full of nerves: pure deadweight that wouldn’t last longer than a week, if even. And if he were being honest, seeing you for the first time had barely changed his opinion despite the cold demeanor you’d had.
You didn’t look like much of a soldier even under all the gear: if anything, appearing better suited for a desk or office rather than a borderline field servant like the rest of them. 
“Name?” Price had asked, more for the others to know than himself. He’d no doubt already gotten your file prior to your addition. He wouldn’t have accepted you so graciously if not for that insight.  
“Hitman,” You’d answered, earning a snort from Johnny which he choked down after a scathing look from Price. He had tried his best to pass it off as a cough, Gaz shoving him with an elbow before smiling and taking over to avoid the other from shoving his foot in his mouth any further. 
“Hitman, huh? You must be pretty skilled to have a name like that.” 
You hadn’t reacted to either comment made, staring directly at him with an almost eerie calm that had the room’s light atmosphere faltering. 
“Dunno,” you’d said dryly, scanning the area before doubling back to scan each of them, “Not like I picked it.” 
While half true, Simon had learned through Johnny, with his shit-eating grin and all, that you most likely knew very well why you’d gotten that name pinned onto you. 
“Pure dead brilliant, ‘at one,” he’d said while cackling to himself, not even attempting to hide how pleased he felt at the information. “Bet th’bastard deserved it an’ mair. Shuid o’ called ‘em Hook or Boxer instead!”
That knowledge, along with how well the first mission had gone despite all the unexpected issues which had nearly ended the task force altogether, was the beginning of a partial shift in his perception of you. 
You’d gone from possible deadweight to a person of interest after hauling ass with Johnny back to safety, Gaz hanging off the two of you with a broken leg and a hell of concussion. He had still managed to cover you as you ran, later admitting he had just shot and hoped for the best with his slowly darkening vision.
You had proven dependable both alone and while working with the others despite being a practical stranger to them all. That was more than he could say for most people. 
The confusion on your face afterward when Price and Johnny had offered their praise had been comical, held down only by the fact that the medic had kept you longer than intended. Simon had expected you to accept the praise and finally smile for once, but instead you seemed almost angry as your ankle was being flexed back and forth. 
The fuck are you all on about? Give me some fucking quiet and go check on Gaz if you want to hover someone. He’s worse off.
The response had only earned a slap on the back from Johnny, a slew of curses leaving his lips when you nearly buckled where you sat from the action. Your expression had shifted as you nearly let out a gasp, only to swallow it down and force that same cold expression back onto your face. Price had dragged him away and wished you a speedy recovery, Johnny following but not without a final apology and only earning an icy look in response.
How you’d avoided a scolding into next year for such righteous indignation against your superior was beyond Simon. What should have been a write up instead had earned a smirk and almost proud expression from Price, the reason why only hitting Simon once he’d taken his leave and finally left you alone like you’d seemingly wanted. 
You had been worried. 
For Gaz, specifically, considering you had no reason to mention his state if you truly just wanted to be left alone. 
But you had also been hurt somewhere along the line, embarrassed by it for some reason. Simon had nearly turned back once it had clicked, but he stopped himself before he could. He understood why you’d lied about your status, the memory of you barking out orders for a medic while holding up Gaz as he went in and out of consciousness burned into his thoughts. 
Besides, you hadn’t pried in his personal life, so he wouldn’t in yours, either. 
That didn’t mean he’d forget that you were surprisingly soft when you wanted to be. 
The sensation of being shoved brought Simon back to the present, you standing in front of him with a raised brow. He huffed out a breath in amusement, it coming out as more of a sigh. Not because of your shove itself—you were military trained, after all—but because of the fact he had already been leaning against the wall when you’d entered, meaning there wasn’t much point in it apart from essentially hitting him. Even if he had been standing without the wall behind him to support him, you wouldn’t have been able to so much as make him flinch. 
He supposed you using him as a punching bag was a vast improvement from pretending he wasn’t there at all.
“Fuck you.” 
The rest of the laugh from earlier threatened to escape, and part of him debated whether or not to let it. Your face would twist in a rage at the sound, no doubt, but maybe he wanted that. 
Maybe he wanted to see you lose it for once: let out the emotion you kept inside and away from them all despite the months working together. He had learned early on that while emotion on the job was a liability, processing outside of it was what allowed for a clear head on the battlefield. 
Your frustration had already festered and bubbled over, obvious by how you were attempting to pin him down with your sharp gaze alone. 
 (you’d never be able to, but that didn’t mean he didn’t enjoy seeing you try.)
He tilted his head, scanning over you slowly before working his attention back up to your tense expression. If he wanted, he could defuse this situation. He could leave without feeding into your anger and allow you the time alone to decompress from whatever had left you shaking in front of him. 
In the time it took to consider his options, you seemed to have had enough and wandered off toward the cabinets. Simon watched you slam them open and shut, grumbling under your breath about something he couldn’t quite catch. What he did catch was what you were gathering: two mugs. tea packets, a pot. 
Pushing off the wall, he moved to a stool, sitting at the island separating the both of you instead. 
Your body tensed as he grew closer, but you didn’t snap at him or remove your attention from the water. That was an improvement considering how he’d seen your hackles raise the first time you two were so much in a room together. He always assumed it was due to training, but a part of him had a feeling that was only a small part of it. 
A calm slowly settled over you as the water began to boil, Simon catching the exhaustion and contemplation more clearly without your anger masking it. You didn’t move a muscle which was odd in and of itself, as no matter how much training you’d had, when on base, you’d always be fidgeting somehow. 
Finger taps, leg bounces, lip or cheek chewing, skin picking, lash pulling. 
Something.  
“You’re off.”
Surprisingly, you didn’t move. You didn’t even look up at him. 
“How so?”
Simon squinted at the tone, crossing his arms as he exhaled deeply. “Quiet.” 
“I recall that being something you hated when we first met. Something about scurrying about like a mouse. Or rat.” 
You finally lifted your head after shutting off the stove top, meeting his gaze once again as the steam from the pot rose before disappearing entirely. Simon grunted, recalling his harsh words and owning them rather than attempting to recall context. 
Had he been aware of how good your memory was, he might have been more careful about what he’d said to you early on. 
(he wouldn’t have. but you’d been around long enough to know he wasn’t exactly known for tact.)
“I hate lots’ve things. That ain’t one’ve ‘em.” 
A whistle echoed as you tilted your head. “Getting mixed signals here, Riley. Keep this up and one might think you actually like my presence.” 
“Whatever it is,” he stated, not breaking eye contact and ignoring the attempt at avoiding the conversation, “Solve it. Soon.”
The last thing they needed was to lose one of the few competent people that actually meshed well with them all. Maybe not off the field, but that didn’t matter nearly as much at the moment as on it. 
“Worried about me?” you said with a chuckle as if laughing as some sort of inside joke, turning your back to him and pouring the water into the mugs as the tea began to steep. 
“Depends on what it is makin’ you so…” 
He paused, attempting to find the word for what you looked like. 
Burnt out. 
No, you were full of energy as he’d seen earlier. Not the kind of energy you usually were, though. This was more subdued yet intense. 
Like you were watching and waiting for something to happen, almost. 
He squinted as you turned back around, a mug in each hand as you stepped closer for once, placing them both down on the kitchen island and pushing one toward him. He didn’t look at it as a single word slipped from his lips. 
“Nervous.” 
Your eyes widened a fraction, barely noticeable but enough so that he could clock it. With a clenched jaw, you swallowed hard and stared down into your mug. 
“I don’t do nervous.” 
He didn’t respond, knowing a lie when he heard one. The room dove into silence, somewhat more suffocating than the anger you’d ripped into the room with as he was attempting to relax. 
“What about you?”
“What about me?” 
“Do you do nervous?” 
You shifted your head just enough to meet his gaze, holding it as you always did. This time didn’t feel as amusing or interesting, threatening to cause a frown to slip onto his lips. You cradled the mug in both hands, eyes flickering down when he didn’t respond immediately, as if it’d give you whatever answers you were looking for. 
“It was a stupid question, sure, but you don’t have to think so hard ab—”
“Every day of my life.” 
Your head snapped up at that, but before you could say anything else, he stood, moving toward the door. You didn’t need more than that—you weren’t looking for anything other than that, he knew. 
All you’d needed was something (or one) to relate to after months of being unable to do so. 
An olive branch, if nothing else.
“Thanks for the tea.”
He wondered what you looked like as he walked out of the room. If your eyes were about to bulge from your skull, or if you were irritated all over at the fact you’d made him something and he hadn’t even touched it. 
(He would have never guessed that you were left staring at the untouched mug in confusion, expression darkening at the realization that old habits truly did die hard.)
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