darling-i-read-it - Tumblr blog

[darling-i-read-it]

hello <3

i am alive! but very busy, so i'm just going to put his blog on a healthy little hiatus. just wanted to say that on here so you all don't think i've passed away lol. lots and lots of love <3

[darling-i-read-it]

Good luck with school dude!! You got this and you’re gonna kill it!!! ❤️❤️❤️

thank you love!!!! this is MONTHS after you sent this but I appreciate it regardless lmaoo. hope you're doing well!!

[darling-i-read-it]

i am alive just started school and have been sporadic lately lol! everyone reading my johnny cage fics now you are so real hope your sleeping well and enjoying the new himbo content

[darling-i-read-it]

when will I be stopped is the real question

[darling-i-read-it]

Barbecue

Phillip Graves x fem!reader

Word Count: 2.2k 

Warnings: general sexual insinuations, literally tooth aching fluff i love him so much it hurts, drinking, guys being dudes

Author’s Note: i literally swore to myself i would write this, the plotless fluff needed to happen and it needed to happen now frankly. Also I just made up a bunch of names for the shadows!

I wrote this as a technical part 2 to Shower Before Bed but it’s not necessary reading! Just like. Made sense in my head lol. 

Summary: Literally just a get together with the Shadows at Phil and his ladies house 

Genre: fluff 

Song: Maps by Yeah Yeah Yeahs 

I don’t own these characters. They belong to author/director/creator

(not my gif)

“Babe, where's the propane?!” 

“Under the grill?”

“It’s not there!” 

“I don’t use that grill Phil!” 

You were inside the kitchen, grabbing all the side plates you bought from the store. Phil could make a mean steak but he wasn’t really sure how to do the side things. Lucky for you, buying chips and various salads was easy. You could give him hefty lifting. 

He walked in through the sliding glass door. 

“I feel like it’s in here,” he grumbled. 

“Then you are welcome to look handsome,” you mumbled, grabbing a couple bowls. He walked around you, opening under the sink. You knew it wasn’t there but you let him look anyway. 

After a very enthusiastic and slow to rise morning, Phil got right into preparing for guests. You had some people around sporadically but never that many. He had basically invited the entire squad over. 

“Did you try the garage?” 

“I did not.” He turned on his heels. He made it barely to the garage door down the hall when he turned back around. He walked back towards you in the kitchen. You raised an eyebrow at him. 

“Yeah?” 

“It’s outside. I just remembered.” 

“Is it under the grill?”

“It’s not under the grill,” he said and walked back through the sliding glass door. You rolled your eyes. You waited a bit, pouring some chips into a bowl. 

“Hey Phil?”

“It’s under the grill.” You nodded slowly. You figured. You grabbed the bowls and brought them outside. The sun had risen high in the sky. A perfect day. Not too hot, not too cold. You put the bowls down on the table and turned to him. He was leaning over the grill. 

The shirt he was wearing was tight around his arms. Your eyes scanned down his arms, following the veins down to his hands. You walked up behind him. He stood up all the way, almost bumping into you. 

“What’re you doin darlin?” he questioned. You wrapped your arms around his waist. He chuckled. Your face was scrunched up into a smile as you put your hand on top of his. You lifted his hand in front of his face. 

“You have such prominent veins,” you whispered, bewildered. 

“Baby,” he breathed. 

You traced down his arm. You placed your chin on his shoulder and leaned your head against his. Your touch was just a mere flutter. He could barely feel it, a tickle on his skin. You smiled cheekily. 

“Never noticed before,” you muttered and moved away. That was the lie to end all lies. You had noticed plenty of times. He groaned when your touch left him completely. 

“You’re gonna be the death of me.”

“If all goes well!” 

There was a knock on the door, raspy and aggressive. He turned on his heels. 

“I got it,” you called, going back into the house. You weaved through the house to the front door. 

Wes was on the other side. A taller member of Phil’s squad, lanky and apparently one of the best sharpshooters of all time. You smiled at the sight of him holding a tin of potato salad. 

“Wes!” 

“Oh if it isn’t lil miss Graves!” He teased. You smiled, moving aside to help him in. 

“Phil’s in the back starting to cook. You should probably go teach him how to do that.” 

“I can’t get a word through to that man, you know it.” You laughed, watching him go. It felt odd to have other people in your perfectly tuned home. It wasn’t bad. Just different. You walked onto the front porch, putting up the sign you had made that read; Come around the house!

You would get tired of walking through the house and you had no interest in letting bugs in through a propped front door. 

-

About an hour later, the backyard was packed. Music had started to play, though you weren’t sure where it was coming from. The grill was surrounded by men, there were discarded beer cans on the patio. 

“I did not say that,” Robbie muttered. He was a large man with tattoos, a beard on his face. 

“You did!” John called. “I thought I was gonna have to call it in but you just told the fucking mafia you were unarmed.”

“I wasn’t unarmed though,” Robbie countered. 

“Yeah no, I know that.” Your laughter melded into theirs. You were sitting with a couple of the guys around an unlit bonfire. “I thought they were gonna shoot you for being dumb.” 

“Wait, this was the Baikal job?” you questioned. 

“I thought it was Petersberg,” Robbie mumbled, lost in thought. 

“It was definitely Baikal,” John argued. 

“Oh yeah, because we were by that lake. I remem...wait, isn't that classified?” Your eyes went wide at the information and you grabbed the beer can off the table. Their eyes floated to you in bewilderment. 

“I coerced him,” you said, trying to salvage it. “Or something. Might’ve been pillowtalk.” 

“Oh God girl,” Robbie muttered. “You’re in for it. They’re gonna kidnap you for information instead of us!” 

“No ones getting kidnapped.” Phil approached behind you, his words floating above everyone else's. He sat down beside you on the porch couch. It smushed you to the side because there was barely enough room for two. You didn’t mind. He had gained a cowboy hat since you saw him last. He put his arm over the wicker back, rubbing circles into your shoulders. He loved to be touching you, especially in a place with a bunch of other guys. He had no qualms about having a woman in the Shadow Company but they tended to not wanna come to extracurricular activities. You couldn’t blame them. 

“Your girl knows about Baikal,” Robbie said. A couple other guys had joined the small circle. Phil grimaced. 

“She’s an honest one isn’t she?” He patted your back. You rolled your eyes. You two hardly had enough chairs for everyone. Wes sat down on the couch arm. “And I definitely remember telling her,” he lied. Everyone chuckled. 

“Oh my God Wes, sit here,” you said, getting up. 

“I am not about to kick a lady out of her seat,” Wes persisted. You were already standing. 

“I’ve got the best seat in the house, don’t worry,” you promised. He gave you a look, hesitantly sliding into the spot you had been sitting in. 

“What’s that?” he questioned. Phil was mid sentence when you sat on his lap. He let out a soft surprised sigh. There were a couple of ‘ooo’s’ from the onlookers but you had known most of them for years and couldn’t care less. Phil put an arm around you to keep you steady. You brought your legs up over the couch side to get comfortable. 

“What were you saying?” you questioned, rejoining the main conversation. 

“I was saying that you like to tell everyone confidential information and it’s a security risk,” he teased. You rolled your eyes. 

“At least she’s cute,” Robbie argued. Phil squeezed his grip on you. 

“Makes everything easy,” he assured his friends. You rolled your eyes. 

“Where’d you get the hat?” you asked. 

“Joey brought it for me. House warming gift.”

“We’ve lived here since June.” 

“And he hasn’t been over since then,” he argued. “What, does it look bad?” You shook your head, a laugh sputtering from your lips. 

“You look handsome.” You grabbed the hat from his head and put it atop yours, leaning into his chest. That earned a couple more ‘ooo’s’ from your onlookers. “What, he does!” you argued. 

“No, not that darlin,” Phil grumbled, though his voice was lighter than he likely intended. 

“Your man there is a cowboy. Believes in all the rules,” John explained. Joey peaked his head out from behind him as you starred with wide confused eyes. 

“There are rules that come with a cowboy hat?” you snorted. 

“If a girl takes a hat from a cowboy and puts it on her own head then…well she has to ride the cowboy,” Joey said. That caused more commotion. Your cheeks flushed but you tried to own it as best you could. You liked being so linked to Phil that it was the source of conversations. He was rubbing your back, hand toying at the hem of your shirt. 

“Oh darn,” you joked. You turned to face Phil completely. “You believe in that bullshit?” 

“Yes ma’am,” he explained. “It’s strict.” Your eyes were locked in a careful intimacy. You could’ve taken him right there. 

“Sounds like we have dessert plans then. I’ve gotta start kicking you boys out early!” Chuckles followed from your words. 

The overlapped conversations continued. You chimed in when you could but mostly you listened. Phil held you safely in his arms, drinking his beer with his free hand. He did most of the talking, making crude jokes about battle and telling stories you only half understood. He didn’t tell you to leave even when you were sure his legs had fallen asleep underneath you. 

The sun set. Someone started the bonfire. The conversation continued. Beers were passed around. Jokes were told. Your eyes started to droop. People started to leave around 11, funneling back to their own homes. 

It was around then you finally stood. 

“Thanks for being my chair,” you said to Phil as you slid off of him. He let out a groan, stretching out his legs. 

“Don’t say I never make sacrifices for you.” You extended your hand to help him up. You pulled him aggressively and he caught himself by grabbing your hips. The reaction was natural. He was so close and he smelled like a bonfire.

“Those steaks were fire boss,” someone said. He let go of you to mingle. 

“It was nice to see you again,” Robbie called towards you. 

“You too. Y’all are welcome anytime. Well, not anytime. Call first.” A gentle, tired chuckle. You walked people to the front door. 

Before you knew it, the house was empty again. Save for Phil, of course. When the last Shadow left you shut the door behind him with triumph, locking it and then turning on the security system beside the door. 

You shuffled out back. Phil was picking up beer cans. 

“I’m exhausted,” he said with a light laugh. 

“Me too,” you admitted. You had gotten tired a half hour ago. “It was nice to see and meet everyone though. I’m glad you’ve got so many good guys looking after you.” You lazily approached him. He tossed the beer cans in the recycle bin and wrapped his arms around you happily. His cowboy hat had returned to his head. 

“They’re good men.” 

“I know,” you hummed. You cupped his face. It was torment being around him so long and not being able to kiss him silly. You took the opportunity now, slipping your lips onto his. He responded sleepily, kissing you like it was breathing. 

“I love you,” he muttered against your lips. 

“I love you too Phil,” you whispered. “We can clean this up tomorrow. I’ve gotta crash soon or else I’ll fall into the fire embers.” He held your hip tighter.

“Not on my watch.”

“I know. Never on your watch.” You made an effort to leave his grip but it just tightened. 

“I like hanging out with them,” he started. His voice was far away. The fatigue had gotten to him which made his words loopier. Could also have been the alcohol. “But I don’t like the way some of em look at you.” 

“They’re all nice to me,” you said, titling your head in confusion. You hadn’t gotten weird vibes all night. 

“Sometimes I catch em staring too long. I don’t like it.” You hummed in response. “Gouge their eyes out then.” 

“For you? Anything.” He kissed you again. You brushed his hair back out of his face. 

“It’s bed time for you baby.” He nodded once. 

“Love you.” 

“Love you too. C’mon.” You looped your arm around his as you started to walk inside.

“That cowboy thing is a rule you know. They weren’t fuckin with you.” 

“I’ll make it up to you when we’re not exhausted.” 

“Promise?”

“Promise.” His low hum sealed the deal. You took the hat off his head as you walked into the bedroom, tossing it onto the dresser. Even as you went to get clothes to sleep in, his hands remained on you. You traced his veins with your thumb. This is what being content feels like, you thought. This. 

[darling-i-read-it]

Shower Before Bed

Phillip Graves x fem!reader

Word Count: 3.3k

Warnings: phil not eating, smut, unprotected smut(intentions of children in this case), shower sex, blowjob, teasing 

Author’s Note: i really said ‘next graves fic is gonna be so fluffy it hurts’ and then i wrote the nastiest thing i’ve ever written. (I did post the second part to this which is just the barbeque fluff so I was almost right) 

Summary: 

Genre: smut, fluff in part 2! 

I don’t own these characters. They belong to author/director/creator

(not my gif)

You lifted your head off the couch arm. You could hear the sound of the door opening, slowly, like there was an attempt not to make noise. Your eyes fluttered open and you opened them widely to ward off the quickly coming sleep. The TV was still on but it had since changed from what you put it on. You wondered how long you had been in between sleep. The clock on the wall said 11. Despite Phil being an early riser, he never managed to get home early. 

You heard the sound of shoes being shuffled off. A loud sigh. Clothes being taken off, a jacket being hung up. 

You sat up and looked behind the couch. You placed your hands up on the back of it, putting your chin down on top of them. You watched the entrance to the living room, waiting for someone to emerge. 

Phil walked in slowly, dragging his feet across the hardwood floor of his home. He widened his sleepy eyes at the sight of you and a ghost of a smile haunted his face. 

“What are you doin awake darlin?” he asked but his voice wasn’t louder than a whisper. He almost sounded like one of the people on the TV. Far away, through a screen. 

“Waiting for you,” you said honestly. He hadn’t bothered to change out of his work clothes. He didn’t even realize he was still wearing his bulletproof vest till he tried to bend down and kiss you but it stabbed him in the stomach. Nonetheless, he kissed you chastley, dry lips leaving careful imprints on your skin. 

“You didn’t have to wait up.” 

“I know,” you said. Your voice was a little louder now. He came around the couch and sat down on the couch beside you. You put your hand on his shoulder. “You didn’t change.” 

“Too tired.” 

“Long day?” 

“Hm.” He turned to face you. You dragged your hand up to his neck and his chin. His skin was warm. You shuffled closer to him and started to grab the straps of his vest. 

“Can I take this off?” you asked. He nodded and you started to undo the straps, one by one, carefully. You moved his arm to remove the weight from his shoulders and then lifted it up over his head when you were done. He let you do it, wordlessly. “Have you eaten?” 

“Sure.” 

“Phil.” He pursed his lips. 

“I got busy.” He always forgot to eat breakfast, constantly leaving his protein shakes on the counter by accident. You always cursed him for missing dinner and got annoyed when he went to the gym without anything in his stomach. 

“I’m gonna warm up your dinner. It’s in the microwave.” 

“You didn’t have to make dinner.” 

“I figured you wouldn’t eat.” You started to stand, blanket falling off your lap. He grabbed your hand and dragged you back down to him. 

“Stay here a moment,” he muttered. “Just..stay with me.” You didn’t ask him how his day was. You tended not to. He would vent about it eventually but he had to stir in it first. Sleep on whatever horror he had gone through. 

“You need to eat. Give me one second.” He let you go after some more pushing. You turned on the microwave and grabbed a drink for him out of the fridge. The lights of the kitchen were dim. You brought him back the plate after a couple minutes. He had navigated to the bedroom, slowly trying to find something to sleep in. “Dinner’s served.” 

“Thanks babe,” he said quietly, taking it from you. He always pretended he wasn’t hungry until he had a plate of food in front of him and then it was all over. 

“You still doing the barbeque tomorrow? Almost all the guys RSVPed.” You gave him a look. “Thanks for giving them my number instead of yours by the way.”

“Easier. You’re more organized,” he said through chewing. You grabbed some sweatpants out of the dresser for him. “And yeah, I grabbed the steaks this morning on my way home from the gym.” 

“Did you buy enough for yourself?” 

“Yes,” he scoffed. You smiled and threw some clothes down beside him. 

“I grabbed the paper plates you asked for. And beer. I grabbed lots of beer.” He nodded once. He looked silly with his mouth stuffed with food, his cheeks like chipmunks. “Careful, you might choke.” He rolled his eyes but had to wait a moment to speak because he was still chewing. 

“This is good.”

“Thank you.” You climbed onto the bed, happy to feel the comforter under your fingers. He turned around to talk to you. It was like living with your built-in best friend, someone who always wanted to talk to you even when he was too tired to form sentences. He was so reserved and professional for so long that by the time he got home he was ready to let it all out. 

“You don’t mind that I’m using the house do you? Wes said we could use his next time if it’s a big deal.” You shook your head. 

“I don’t mind at all,” you assured him. “We have a house too big for the two of us anyway.”

“Daddy’s money,” he said, chewing. He was referring to himself. You kicked him, even with the light embarrassment raising to your face. 

“It’s nice to have the company is all I’m saying. Plus, I haven’t met some of the new guys.” 

Phil told you all about the Shadows. They were his friends, his family, his crew. You had hardly met most of them but you knew their life stories, their wives, their kids. When you first started to date Phil they used to joke you were like their new mom. Though you were all mostly around the same age, you took the title with pride and a little bit of humor. 

“You’ll like em. All very civil.” 

“They don’t take after you then.” He laughed gently. 

“I’m so civil doll,” he promised. “Speaking of the big house.” He pointed a fork at you, eating another bite that was far too large for him to take. You let him chew it, pretending to hang off the edge of your seat. “We could fill it up.”

“You want a dog?” He narrowed his eyes on you. You tilted your head, playing dumb. You wanted to hear him say it. 

“Not a dog.” 

“Then what? A cat? A bird? Lil hamster?” He couldn’t banter as quickly as usual because he was still eating. It gave you plenty of room to make up for him.

“Baby. Kid. Child.” You nodded, as though you were just understanding what he meant. 

“A human.” 

“Yeah,” he suggested, voice a little quieter. Phil wanted nothing else than to have kids with you. It was his biggest dream. Having kids, being a dad, living the happy life with you. Even when things were shitty at work, he held onto that. 

“What, right now?” 

“I’d never say no.” Your lips turned up to a smirk. 

“Well I’m too tired for the whole thing. You kept me up very late Commander Graves.” He pretended not to be disappointed. “A compromise?”

“I’m listening.” You could see his ears twitch, a thing that happened when he was particularly interested in the conversation. Either that or he was nervous. You smiled either way and crawled off the headboard towards him. He watched you do it, eyes trained on your mouth. He swallowed the lump of food hard, more like a gulp really. 

“You take a shower,” you started. He dipped his chin as you sat beside him, knees tucked under yourself. “I blow you. And then tomorrow morning, we can do that whole baby making thing.” 

He got off the bed, putting down his plate on the dresser. He grabbed his clothes from beside where he was sitting. 

“I’m takin a shower.” You watched him as he tossed his clothes on your bathroom counter, taking off his work shirt with such haste it got stuck on his dog tags. He didn’t bother closing the door. 

You knew that, despite your words, you would get far too carried away and whatever you had planned for the morning would happen within the next half hour. He’d be a perfect gentleman and claim he could wait, even with desperate, pleading eyes. You shoved yourself off the bed and joined him in the bathroom. 

He had his shirt off, working on his belt. He had scars littering his body. You knew the story to each one, though you sometimes asked him to retell them. You walked behind him to turn on the shower. You turned the knob onto hot, feeling his eyes following you as you did so. Because of that you dragged your hand up on the knob slowly, finger tips nimbly touching the tip. You put your hand under the water, ignoring him even as his eyes bore holes into your movements. 

Finally, you turned to him. 

“Warm enough?” you questioned, innocently. He had tossed his belt onto the counter with a clatter but his pants remained on. 

“Yeah, that’s plenty hot,” he said. 

“You didn’t touch the water.”

“I know.” 

You remained desperately far away from each other (which in truth, was about two feet). You tilted your head. 

“Are you going to go into the shower with your pants on? Tsk tsk.” You cleared the space between you, putting your fingers in the hem of his pants. You didn’t meet his eyes, intentionally looking down as you unzipped his pants. He watched your fingers move, carefully, deliberately. 

Eventually, you returned your fingers to the hem. You bunched his pants with his boxers and pulled them down easily, acting as though you were doing him nothing but a favor. You backed up just a tad and knelt down to a squat. You dragged them down to his ankles. You paid no attention to his semi, tapping his foot so he could lift it up. Once you had them off him, you grabbed the pants in a bunch and tossed them into the hamper. 

You stood up. You swore you could hear a disappointed moan leave his lips. 

“Well. Enjoy your shower,” you teased, turning to leave. 

This time he audibly groaned in disappointment. He grabbed your wrist, causing you to turn around. His eyes were wide, lips almost quivering with desire. 

“Baby,” he muttered. The power you had at the tips of your fingers. He didn’t like giving up his control and you knew that but he would never force you to do something you didn’t want to do. He toed the line now, breath heaving. “You’re killin me ‘ere,” he whispered. You let him pull you a little closer. He dragged your hand slowly down his body until your palm touched his dick, now raised and hard. 

You touched the top with your fingers and he slightly buckled at his knees. 

“Get in the shower,” you whispered. 

He didn’t want to leave your touch. It was practically torture. But the look in your eyes told him it was worth it. He set his jaw and did as he was told. 

You were wearing just your pajamas, some sweats and an old shirt of Phil’s. You took off the sweats as he stepped into the shower, leaving the curtain wide open. You could see him out of the corner of your eye, palming himself, watching as you undressed. You took off the shirt, his shirt, and tossed it aside. 

Wearing nothing but your undergarments, you approached the shower. Phil had a thing about taking your clothes off of you. He liked to unhook the bra, let it fall down your shoulders into his hands. You could take the water. Plus, these were old anyway. 

He moved to give you room, putting himself directly under the water stream. His hair was matted down onto his forehead, water dripping down his face. He was too focused to care. 

You stepped over the shower side and let the warm water hit you as it ricocheted off him. His shoulders were broad and strong. It was something you always forgot until you saw him shirtless. He was so..so big. 

You leaned forward, kissing him. He grabbed your sides, pulling you closer to him. You could feel his dick against your stomach, shoved between the two of you. He groaned into the kiss, water covering both of your faces. You bit his bottom lip, pulling it out and then letting him go.

Finally, you dropped to your knees. There was little grace in it, just a hard fall, but the pain in your knees was quickly forgotten. Phil would make comments about the bruises tomorrow. He looked down at you, eyes filled with lust. You grabbed his dick with your hand, slowly pumping it up and down. 

The touch clearly felt amazing because just that made his head fly back. You smiled, staring up at him as he enjoyed himself. 

“Baby please suck it,” he muttered. “Suck it,” he said quickly. You gave up on teasing him for the moment and finally wrapped your lips around him. You moved slowly, pumping your head all the way down his length. You took as much of him as you could until you gagged and came up for air. You licked his tip, holding the base of it with your hand. He groaned loudly, hands finding their way to your hair. 

“You like that Commander?” you asked. 

“Yeah baby. Yeah I like that.” You put your lips back around him, moving faster now. He broke down into moans, gasps as you went further down, seething breaths as you gripped his balls. “Just like that baby, fuck. Fuck you’re doin so good.” 

His fingers were digging into your hair, gripping at whatever he could grab. He pulled at it, trying to guide you. You let him take the control, moving your head as he pleased. He just looked so damn pretty up there, it was hard not to give in. 

He pulled your head off of him completely. To your surprise, you practically whined. 

“I don’t wanna cum on your pretty face tonight,” he muttered. He knelt down, helping you up to your feet. You almost slid back down but he had you in an iron grip. He kissed you, tasting himself on your lips, unable to get enough. He pressed you against the wall, expertly unhooking your bra. He took it off easily, sliding it down your arms, tossing it out into the bathroom. 

He stopped kissing you just to take off your panties, which he did quickly and with minimal struggle. You were soaking wet. It had been a long day without him. Water beat against the side of you both. He shook the water out of his hair, kissing you again. 

You and Phil typically used a condom. You used to be on the pill but came off it after you had been inconsistently taking it. He made no move to find a condom now. You didn’t say anything, gripping his shoulders. 

He pushed your legs so that they were spread a bit. You were both looking down as he slipped in the tip, causing your head to fly back against the wall. If you weren’t so enamored, it might’ve hurt. He took no time shoving the rest of him inside of you, to which you both gasped. The gasps turned to low moans. You put your hands under his arms, gripping his back. 

“Oh fuck Phil,” you groaned. “You’re so deep.”

“You okay?” 

“Move please.” He smirked, doing just as he was told. He started to thrust in and out of you. If Philip Graves could do anything, he could fuck. Your fingers dug into his skin, sliding down his back, surly leaving scratch marks. He grunted as he moved, each thrust considerate. You wanted to say something hot but all that came out of your lips was his name, over and over. He repeated yours back, a whisper, a grunt, and a prayer. 

“I’m not gonna last,” he muttered. You couldn’t blame him. You had done a considerable job to make sure he wouldn’t last. 

“Cum in me,” you whispered. 

It was all he needed. It was like he saw red, his thrusts no longer slow but now coming without a rhythm. Sloppy and hard he pushed you against the wall. You dug your nails into his back, feeling your own orgasm coming with his speed. You put your hands on his waist, annoyingly skinny. Your mouth was permanently open as you gasped, head jerking. 

You came with a long moan but he didn’t let up. Your head rested against the shower wall as he kept moving, clearly coming to his own end. You rode your high as he did so, bringing your head down to watch his face. He was concentrated, eyes fluttering open and closed, lips against your skin. 

Finally his legs shook, bottoming out inside of you, cumming. You pressed your chest against his and he held you tightly, thrusting a couple more times. His head rested on your shoulder. You were both breathing heavily. He remained inside of you as he kissed your skin, leaving marks on your collar bones that you would have to cover up tomorrow. 

“Jesus Christ,” he muttered. 

You kissed the side of his head as he slid out of you. You were both wet now but you had no interest in actually showering. You had gotten what you came for. You dipped your head to kiss his lips and they lingered until you stepped out of the shower completely. You grabbed a towel, wrapping it around yourself. 

“You let me cum in you,” he commented. You turned back to him, drying yourself off. 

“I remember.” 

“Was that intentional?”

“Maybe.” You smirked back at him as you grabbed your pajamas off the floor and started to put them on. “I’ll be in bed Commander Graves. Join me when you’re done.” 

He watched you go, shaking his head. You grabbed his plate and brought it to the dishwasher while you waited for him. You rung out your hair into the kitchen sink before you went back upstairs. You climbed under the covers, adjusting to a comfortable position. 

About ten minutes later, he opened the bathroom door to join you in the bed. The lights were off so he navigated in the dark under the covers. You shimmied closer to him when he put his head down. He threw an arm around your shoulder and pulled you to his chest. 

“Can we still do that in the morning?” he asked quietly. You laughed, a whole chest laugh that caught in your throat. 

“If we don’t I’ll be disappointed.” 

“Fuck, I love you.” You rolled your eyes and pressed your cheek against his chest. He kissed the top of your head. His heartbeat was evening out, getting comfortable. 

“I love you too Phil.”

“G’night doll.”

[darling-i-read-it]

is it possible to either request a fic or hc whatever you feel like doing of trevor?

something kind of like that college request with love sick smitten nauseating trevor and his sweet little girlfriend who walks in to them planning a heist. she knows what he does but she doesn’t want a part of it and neither does trevor but she still supports him. he does anything in his power to keep her out of it. but does he get turned on seeing her hold his gun? yes. will he eventually try to get her warmed up to straddling him with a gun pointed at his neck while she rides him? absolutely.

but putting her in danger is something that makes him physically sick. maybe during the heist she somehow ends up in crosshairs, similar to what trevor did in north yankton when he put that gun to the woman’s head “if you move i’ll shoot her brains out”

but trevor just sees red like his special ability. killing anyone who angers or threatens his baby.

HI literally making me absolutely feral i hope you enjoy <3 <3 Trevor you're such a real one

tw for guns, violence, vague sexual descriptions, typical trevor stuff

Trevor fell in love with you because of your innocence. All the girls who loved him where like him, something similar in their hard gaze, the smell of alcohol on their breath. Not you. You were different.

he swore it was a good thing, he promised Ron and Wade that you were happy with him.

they never believed him. it was hard to believe Trevor on a good day

but they could see from the way you were with him that he was telling the truth. You would sit in his trailer, gently cleaning up without being invasive, laugh at his dumb jokes, call him cute. There is no one someone who didn't love Trevor would do all that

He was nauseating about you. He talked about you all the time, bragged endlessly, always had your name on the tip of his tongue.

"Yeah, I brought her out to dinner last night. She tried to drink me under the table but I had to bring her home," he would say, with heart eyes.

"She didn't make me take down my posters. Would Amanda do that for you Michael?"

"We had lots of fun yesterday. Don't worry Ron, I cleaned the couch. "

He loved that he had something in his life no one else did. You were his unicorn.

Obviously spending so much time with Trevor, it was easy to know what he did for a living. He didn't like to hide anything from you and he didn't like to hide his job in general

Trust that he would be honest about everything. Down to the last penny, he would tell you what he did and why he did it (even if his reasonings were always a little skewed)

You didn't want anything to do with it. You had no interest in going to jail and he perfectly respected and appreciated that. He liked having someone on the outside anyway

Plus, you were the person he could go to outside of all of that. He had plenty of friends in the business, he wanted something that was normal and just for him

that being said

Trevor does love a little bit of corruption. He has never said no to taking you out shooting.

"Just...like that," he muttered. He had his hands on top of yours, his body pressed against your back. You had one eye closed like it would help you aim the gun in your hand. You starred at the beer can on the stump, breathing in and out evenly, just like he had taught you. "Whenever you're ready doll."

You pulled the trigger. Your ears rang out. Trevor didn't believe in ear protection (or any protection for that matter). You missed, just barely.

"Am I getting better?" you asked, hopelessly. You had asked him to teach you to use a gun just in case someone came home while he wasn't there. He agreed. You needed to know how to defend yourself.

"Oh so good. Honestly better than most of the men I've worked with." He loved seeing a gun in your hand. He loved when you brandished it, talking like it wasn't a fully loaded weapon in your hand. He liked when it got a little close to him, making him twitch a bit.

But that's a whole different battle.

Other than that, you avoided all of his lifestyle things. No heists, no ride alongs. He wanted you as safe as humanly possible.

Naturally, if you were around, you were bound to walk into a heist planning without meaning to. You didn't recognize the concentrated look on Trevor's face as he starred at the wall, full of papers and lines and pictures. You had just been grabbing some groceries before coming back to Wade's cousins.

Michael Townley was there, his eyes trained on the wall as well.

"He's no good. We need someone who's done this before Trevor," Michael was saying. You slowly closed the door, approaching the wall. Trevor was sitting on the arm of the couch.

"And Frank is? I mean, I like the kid, don't get me wrong. But can he handle all that?" Trevor's sounded unenthused. He turned to look at Michael and saw you standing behind him, grocery bags in your hand. He stood up quickly. His sudden movements caused Michael to turn around. "Hey baby. You're back early."

"The other store I wanted to go to was closed," you explained. "What's all this?" You asked even though you knew the answer.

"Nothin'," he promised, approaching you. He grabbed a bag from your hand. "You grab beer?"

"Course."

"Atta girl." He helped you put things down on the kitchen counter. Michael gave you a nod in acknowledgment. You returned it with a thin lipped smile.

"Are you guys planning a heist?"

"No need to worry about that dollface," Trevor said. "We can finish this up later." He turned to look at Michael, eyes like daggers, daring him to defy. Michael nodded once. He knew what it was like to want to keep someone out of the danger.

"Yeah, no problem."

but the information stayed up there. You could look at it while you watched the TV, making sense of the ramblings. They'd be down by the docks.

Trevor ignored any questions you asked about it. You didn't want to know, he knew that. You were just curious.

The day of, he planned a full day. Heist at 9, lunch with you at 1. You would come grab him from a safe point, he made sure of it.

Then things went array. His timing had never been great and honestly, he probably should have made sure the safe point was completely safe. It was the exit area, the place where everyone was supposed to meet up when things went well. Everyone showed, all the goods were there...

they were followed

You were already there, waiting with your car, sitting on your phone

You saw everyone rolling up, tires screeching and people running

Guns were going off. You ducked your head below your steering wheel and freaked out silently

Someone was running towards the car, grabbing your drivers door, opening it up because you didn't bother leaving it locked. You didn't even think

Someone pulled you out of the car, tossing you on the ground. You saw little to nothing for a moment, eyes blacking out as you looked around the soon to be chaos

You stood up shakily and saw the man who had pushed you down. Someone completely foreign and honestly scary looking. The second you registered his face, it had been blasted off.

You screamed, almost falling over and scampering away

Someone had grabbed your arm, keeping you up

"Right here doll."

You knew the voice well and almost melted into Trevor's touch, a heavy sigh of relief leaving your lips. Even if everyone was still shooting, you were safe with Trevor. He'd never let anything happen to you.

He dragged out of the fire and placed you carefully behind a car.

"Stay here till I get you." He gave you a gun and said nothing else until he had turned around.

You peaked over the car. There were dozens of men pointing a gun at him. He looked untouchable, guns in both hands, face hard, eyes red.

"Now who wants to fucking try it? Huh?"

You had never seem him move so efficiently. It was like he couldn't get hurt at all. His vision had slowed and everything in his way was gone.

He didn't stop until the very last man was under his boot and a gun was through their temple.

Then he ignored all of his comrades to run to you, skidding on his knees to make sure you were alright.

"You alright baby? They hurt you? I'm so sorry you had to be here."

His voice was rushed and honest. He had you in his arms, breathing harshly. You held him tightly against you, breathing in the smell of his shitty cologne. You had never been so happy to see him.

[darling-i-read-it]

please don’t ever change your username 🥺 I’ve been obsessed with you for years 😩🤍

OMG I promise I won't (I tried to years ago and then realized i'd have to redo the entire masterlist. who has time for that). thank you so much for being here 🥺🥺🥺🥺

[darling-i-read-it]

Will there be a part three of the fic with Charlie Carsile 🙈🙈

Hi! I don't currently have plans to continue it. I'm awful at multiple part stories lol.

[darling-i-read-it]

Creepypasta ML

Jeff the Killer

Window Cracked Open

[darling-i-read-it]

Window Cracked Open

Jeff the Killer x fem!reader

Word Count: 1.6k

Warnings: god where do i start, reader is clearly deranged in the sense that she finds love in fear (yes that was a jab at me), blood, a knife, jeff lighty threatening the reader, overall scary writing?, mentions of jeff being too skinny and unhuman, descriptions of jeffs scarring (let me know if i missed any!) 

Author’s Note: i was trying to watch a romance show and it made me so deranged and sad that i wrote this because i feel more comfortable in fear than i do in love sometimes. 

Summary: Literally no plot just Jeff showing up one night 

I don’t own these characters. They belong to author/director/creator

(not my gif)

He always came in without warning. His limbs sprawled out, always gangly and white. Even in the dark, there was something illuminating about them. Monstrous. They moved too slow, with too much precision. Predatory. You never would have guessed he was once a human. Despite the two arms and two legs, he always seemed something otherworldly. You never knew when he would show. Sometimes it would be months without so much as a peep. Sometimes he would be gone mere days, mumbling something about the cold, pretending he felt normal feelings. 

The air coming through the window was chilly. It was crisp and comforting. Summer had finally started to dissipate. The sun had started to set sooner. The leaves started to turn. They fell to the ground, being run over by cars with the heater blasting. When the darkness fell over the night you could feel your muscles start to relax. The tenseness in your body rested when you got under warm blankets, a candle lit by your bedside. 

It had been weeks. The sticky sweat of the summer had Jeff on the run. You never knew where he went when he was gone for long periods of time. It just made you antsy. Even after plenty of time, you could never go to sleep at peace. You left the window cracked open, always prepared for someone to come climbing in, something that looked like a monster under your bed. 

You could have shut it. Locked it. Bought double locks or something, gone to the local hardware store and asked for better protection or cameras or something. It would put you at ease. Jeff would get the message. 

But God, where’s the fun in that? 

You were in between consciousness. You could still hear everything around you, make  note of the normal noises as they came and went. The fan blowing, causing your curtains to slightly move. The sound of your clock, ticking. The familiar fabric moving with the wind from the window. 

A creak on the window. 

At first, you didn’t even open your eyes. You dismissed it as something in your dreams, something you could almost touch. The comforting feeling of sleep was about to overtake you and honestly, you were ready to let it. You could ignore something that echoed far away, nothing more than a simple abnormality. 

Then a longer creak. Weight shifting on the sill. 

You opened your eyes. It was dark. You had a little night light in the corner of your room by the door. You could see the edges of it from where you were laying. Your body stayed still. Listening. Waiting. You could see your digital clock on the bedside table. Nearing the witching hour. 

Finally, there was a footstep on your carpet. You could barely hear it. If it wasn’t so quiet otherwise, you would never have noticed it. 

You put your palm against your mattress. You used it to shift your weight, sitting up. 

Jeff was standing by the window. You could see him only by his silhouette. Your eyes weren’t used to the darkness yet but you the gentle night light illuminated against his striking figure. All sharp. The connection between his limbs seemed stagnant. Holding themselves together only by the sheer need to. You recognized him by his familiar motifs. 

There was a long moment of complete stillness. Jeff stood at the window. You could imagine his eyes scanning the room, feverishly taking in his surroundings, understanding each and everything you had changed since he had been there last. You sat on the bed, watching him, breathing shallowly. You recognized that this was like a still from a horror movie. You knew that the fear in your chest was only narrowly alarming. There should have been a flight or fight guard behind it. Instead it was just a fear that was welcomed. A feeling you understood, one that you knew well. It paralyzed you from anything else. God, it was a nice feeling. 

Jeff moved. He walked towards your bed, putting both his palms on the comforter and crawling towards you. You could see more of his face as he moved, the night light flashing off his features in different ways. 

His permanent Glasgow smile was stained with dried blood. You lifted your hand towards him, putting it on his cheek. He sat criss cross applesauce in front of you. You had brought your legs towards your body to make room. You wanted to clean the wound, an innate instinct. You wondered how many times you had cleaned it. How many times he just returned it to its idle state. 

His eyes were wide. They always were. It showed no inclination of surprise, just a natural gaze. 

“Why the frown sweetface?” His voice broke the silence. It literally felt like it shattered, waking you from some sort of trance. You hadn’t realized you were frowning. How could he see your expression at all? You could hardly see his.

“You're bleeding.”

“Always.” Your hand dragged down from his cheek. It brushed over his neck, his Adam's apple bobbing. Then onto his hoodie. It looked like it had once been white but was now stained. Dirt. Blood. Guts. You left your hand against his chest. If he had a heart, it would be there. 

“Where have you been?” You wouldn’t get an answer you wanted. You asked anyway. 

“Here, there. No where.” His voice was raspy. Almost playful. “Didja miss me?” His voice remained just above a whisper. You swallowed hard.

“Yes,” you said, honestly. He smiled, as much as he could. “Do you wanna get some clean clothes?” You couldn’t even think twice about how long he had been wearing this set. 

“Sounds like a lotta work.” You half snorted. 

“Couldn’t be any more work than killing someone.”

“That has an end result.” 

“So does changing.” 

“You better watch your tongue,” he threatened, though it felt fake. He took his knife out from an unidentified face, flashing it in your face. It glistened in the night light. “You could be the next one on the other end of my knife.” 

“Is that a promise?” His version of a smile returned. You climbed off the bed, going towards your dresser. You had kept some things that looked mildly like Jeff’s size. You grabbed a different hoodie, a shirt and some slacks. He was watching you. You could feel it. 

You turned back to him. Large eyes watched your movements. 

You threw the clothes at him. He caught it, quickly, easily. 

“Get dressed.” 

“So demanding,” he muttered. He slid off the bed. His movements were always too easy. Too graceful. 

He had no qualms of getting dressed right there. He tossed his things to the side and you watched, climbing back into the bed and leaning against the wall. You watched him. His slender body, white as a sheet, moved like a ghost. He was impossibly skinny. Always cold to the touch, like a corpse. 

Once he had changed, he turned back to you. 

“Happy?” he snarled. 

“Very.” 

He crawled back onto the bed. Jeff sprawled onto the comforter. He pretended it was his, that the warmth and the safety was something he could live in. He knew it wasn’t what he wanted. But it was something he could enjoy, in small doses. 

“Do I get a space?”

“Sleep on the floor.” You scoffed. You shoved him aside, grabbing the top of the comforter and pulling it down. You climbed underneath it and he took the moment to also enjoy the warmth of the blankets. You faced him, cheek against your pillow. It was colder now that he had opened the window gap a little larger. You were going to get blood on your pillows. He likely wouldn’t be there when the sun rose. This would feel like nothing but a dream. 

He grabbed your hip, pulling you closer. He was freezing. Cold blooded, you swore. After a gasp you stifled your emotion. His hair smudged over his face, the tips of it touching your skin. He had pulled you to his chest, his grip like iron. 

Your eyes started to close. Sleep would come easily. You were still in the in-between of consciousness. 

You could feel his lips (or lack thereof) against the top of your head. He buried his face into the pillow so that his nose would remain in your hair, breathing in your shampoo. You would wake up with blood on you more than likely, the feeling of his kisses leaving you before you could comprehend them.   But you slept better with Jeff here then you did without him. All fear and anticipation dissipated. The knowing was far better than the unknown. You fell asleep in his arms, a crazy loopy reasoning in your head about the boy in your arms.

[darling-i-read-it]

i loved it!!! i LOVE a smitten trevor moment ! you definitely fulfilled everything i was looking for and more, you’re my go to trevor girl 🫶

AGHH THANK YOUU!!!!! This is such a compliment my heart is so warm 🥹🥹 Whenever you need Trevor, I am here boo 🫡🥰

[darling-i-read-it]

okay i blacked out today while writing and binging tv shows. hope you all enjoyed those very random pieces lol

[darling-i-read-it]

if you’re still writing for GTA V could i request something where Trevor is dating a girl that’s younger than him/age gap and is in college, total opposite of him. but he is IN LOVE and he absolutely needs to just marry her, tie her down, etc.

i need you to know that age gap in college total opposite is me so this request made me very <3 it made me <3 trevor i love you.

i hope you enjoy!

Smarts? A schedule? A home that isn't a trailer? Someone who kind of knows what they're doing?

Trevor had never known these things before

You and Trevor met when he was in your college town for a job. He was being shitty about it, lingering around the college bars. He had to wear some snazzy outfit in order to fit undercover and he met you.

He was smitten. You were drinking something strong and he asked you to a drinking game. You were kind of drunk and he looked a little better hazy but you were more than happy to comply to a game.

You sweeped the floor with him.

He had never fallen in love so quickly

You both fell asleep on a bench outside. It was freezing when you woke up in the morning. You had lost your jacket. Trevor offered you his. After confirming the two of you didn't sleep together, the relationship was off.

All of your friends thought you were insane!

They met Trevor in passing (he was usually around, in your dorm even though he wasn't supposed to) (commuting with you even though he had no where to go) (always in college bars, bragging about his girlfriends grades)

"He's kind of old?" a friend noted. You were sitting with your computer out, typing furiously. You really had to finish this essay.

"He's got experience."

"He's bald?"

"Not quite."

"Doesn't he live in a trailer?" You peeked over your computer.

"He can budget. Also, the trailer is fun. When I've cleaned it."

"You're like a maid?" You scoffed.

"Trust me, I'm not a maid. We do lots of things other than cleaning."

the insinuation was fucking but you actually did a lot of things. His whole life of crime thing tended to bleed over to you when you came over. He often had a lot of money though which was a win. Tuition was expensive!

Your friends thought he was a sugar daddy. You didn't deny it?

Trevor liked spending all his time with you. He had never known something so special. He had never loved someone so much.

Obviously his next inclination was to tie you down! He wanted marriage! He wanted a honeymoon!

You were still in college, gathering your own personhood. Marriage is not something that was technically on your radar.

Trevor and you spent some time in a hotel (his treat) so you didn't have to hear your roommate complain. You had your head on his lap, looking eagerly at your computer. Homework. So much homework.

He brushed his hand through your hair.

"What are you writing about now?"

"Climate change."

"Is it changing? It was really hot outside today." You snorted, shaking your head. You shut your computer. You could finish it later.

"Just a bit. How is that thing we did last weekend?"

"Oh the Millers score? It's great. We can buy a house."

"But you're buying another hanger?"

"I like planes." You looked up at him, arching your back to do so.

"A house though...so much square feet. So many places to sit. And do other things."

It was defiantly a weird place to be at the college age. He could kill someone for you (he would. he has.) and he also had no idea what you were doing academically. You complained about shitty professors and he almost killed one of them (you explained that would be proactive)

He told everyone ever about you. He bragged about you to strangers. He told Ron. He told Michael.

No one believed him. Like literally...no one

Ron only believed him when he ran into you at the trailer once over a break

You were so kind (and younger and good looking and smart?). Ron didn't really understand the whole thing but when Trevor kissed you you looked so happy.

It may have been a random relationship but it worked so well for the two of you. Yes, it was kind of weird because you were constantly doing homework. He was in crime and made meth! Sometimes opposites attract.

"Are you going out out tonight?" Trevor asked, sitting in your dorms fire escape. Quick exit if he needed it.

"I have one of my 300 classes to study for."

"You should drop out."

"You paid my tuition for this quarter."

"And I am telling you to drop out." You rolled your eyes, looking at him through your lashes. He waited, eagerly. He was wearing some clothes you had gone out and bought together. If you could just convince him to change that haircut. "We should get matching tattoos."

"Trev."

"A heart with an arrow."

"Trev," you said, laughing gently. "I'm busy. Don't you have people to scam?" He took a step in through the window. He gestured outside into the night.

"I have the helicopter on the roof. I could teach you."

"Oh God, do you remember the last time you tired? I'm like..horrendously bad at helicoptering." You could fly the crop duster! But the helicopter had too many things to focus on.

"We can go to Paris." You shut your computer.

"You are gonna make me fail." He hit the window sill.

"I'll pay the tuition for next quarter too."

[darling-i-read-it]

Hi sweetie, me again! <3

Don't worry about it, darling. Take as long as you need, I don't mind. If you don't like the request feel free to ignore it/decline it.

Of course, it's Harry again (i'm so sorry)

After being unable to reach Y/N via calls and texts, Harry gets a call from a tipsy Austin who boastfully informs him she's with him which both riles up and scares Harry. He feels horrible about feeling a bitter sense of jealousy when he should be - and is mainly worried.

So he rushes over. After being relieved that she's ok, you can take it away with your own idea.

Sorry this is so long, dear. Once again, feel free to ignore it.

Have a wonderful day/night and take care, darling

~ XOXO, Addie

hey dear! i hope you don't mind me doing headcanons for this one. you're literally so sweet and i love doing things for you! thank you for your kindness and i hope you enjoy <3

Harry tried really hard to not be invasive. Honestly, it was easier for him because he was usually so focused on himself or his writing. So a relationship with him uses a lot of separate time.

That also meant that when he called you though, he expected you to answer. You were apart enough, he wanted you to answer.

It was rare that you didn't and you usually sent a text immediately about how busy you were or something. There was typically no toxicity in the moment, just concern

but SOMETIMES

The dial tone rang and rang, coming up with your voice mail. He was starting to get antsy, getting up and walking around the house

He didn't want to be overbearing

The natural instinct of jealousy = bad took over him. He watched his phone, tossing it on the couch, jumping at it everytime he got a notification

Then he got a phone call from you, finally

Harry jumped at the chance to answer it, not even pretending he wasn't waiting for it. He put the phone to his ear.

"Hey, are you okay?"

"She's fine!" Harry recognized the voice. He knew Austin's tone, the chaos in his voice. It made him immediately stressed, the fear painted all over his face. What were you doing with Austin? Where were you? Were you there voluntarily?

"Austin?"

"This is he. What, your wife can't have other friends!" He could hear the alcohol dripping from his voice. Was he at the bar? Harry snatched his keys, almost forgetting shoes. He could hear music in the background but nothing that was similar to your voice. "Oh Harry, don't be annoying. We're just having a little fun!"

Harry hung up the phone and got in the car. He drove as fast as he could manage (which was fast in the small town. little cars, little traffic)

When he got to the bar he couldn't see your car but he saw you the second he walked in. You were sitting on a table, not in a chair. Austin was standing in front of you, making large hands about some story.

You caught Harry's eyes as he walked over. There was anger in his face but it was masked by the jealousy. You had a few drinks, unintentionally. You had stopped in for something completely rational, the actual thing lost on you now. You had run into Austin, who fed you some lie about him needing to talk to you about Harry.

Stress dripped from him as he approached.

"Where have you been?!" His voice was higher than he intended. Louder.

"Chill out," Austin said. His words were slurring. Was he high too? Harry couldn't exactly figure it out.

"Harry, I'm fine," you promised. You slid off the table. "I'm fine." He grabbed your arm, just a bit to tightly.

"Let's go," he said, voice low.

"Harry, chill."

"Let's go."

He was silent the whole way home, even if you weren't. You apologized, you sobered up, you complained, you let him have it. Harry didn't answer until he had parked at home and locked the doors.

"Harry?" you whispered. He had left the conversation mostly unanswered.

"How could you do that? Knowing how dangerous he is?"

"I didn't mean to," you said, honestly. "I was there for something else. God, I don't even remember what it was now." You shook your head, watching his stoic face. "He asked me for a drink, said he had to tell me something about you."

"And what? You got carried away?"

"Yes! And, I'm a grown person Harry. I don't need you as my guard dog." He was silent. You feared he was still angry. His jaw was set, eyes forward.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly. "I think I overreacted." He glanced at you. He waited for you to say something. When you didn't, he kept going. "I just got scared when you didn't answer and then...Austin is bad. It scared me," he repeated. Your face softened.

"I'm sorry babe."

"I am too."

when the you went back inside, you suggested dinner. He helped you cook.

he ate the food you were cooking

you teased him about being jealous when you had completely sobered up

he said he wasn't jealous. he also then ate a huge bite of food right afterwards so he couldn't answer any more questions

[darling-i-read-it]

Tea Kettle

Rupert Giles x fem!reader

Word Count: 1.6k

Warnings: literally nothing but smut, bj, unprotected smut, gray sweatpants (drooling)

Author’s Note: as always, smut is NOT my forte but i like to throw it out there every once in a while and he..id let him do things to me i wouldn’t confess to in church idk 

Requested: by anon, i would do anything for rupert giles smut😫

I don’t own these characters. They belong to author/director/creator

(not my gif)

“I don’t know, maybe you should both come out to the college and look?” 

Buffy’s voice was borderline pleading. You had gotten used to her strength and independence. It was rare that she wanted help so admittedly. You suspected an ulterior motive, but didn’t say anything about it immediately.

“We can be there by dinner if you think you need it,” you said, honestly. Giles was in the shower. You could hear the sound of the water hitting the bathroom tiles. The gentle movement of his body as the pressure shifted. “But I think you’re just getting used to college and you want some normalcy.” 

“I’m a big girl. If I felt that way, I would say it!” There was a beat of silence as you waited, toying with the phone chord. She let out a deep breath. “Willow has Oz. It’s weird!” 

“It’s your first night. You’re gonna be okay.” 

“If Giles had answered this phone call then he would already be in the car,” she complained. 

“He’s a pushover.”

“I know! That’s why I like him!” You both laughed gently. You wanted to be there for Buffy, your natural inclination was to go to her. She had been like a daughter to you through her high school years, despite the fact that you were mildly close in age. You just happened to graduate a couple of years before she did. But you knew the feeling of independence needed to come from allowing her to fly. She was a big girl. She could do it. 

“Buff.” She let out a soft sigh. “I’m not saying you’re on your own. I’m just saying you need some distance and some growth.”

“I’ve grown,” she pleaded. “I’ve killed a lot of people you know.”

“Vampires.”

“Potato potato.” 

“You’re a big girl and it isn’t going to hurt you to stay a night with Willow like a sleepover.” 

“God, you’re such a mom.” You snorted. The bathroom door opened. You craned your neck to the hallway from where you were sitting on the couch. Rupert was drying his hair, wearing gray sweatpants and a shirt. You raised an eyebrow. He didn’t notice, walking into the kitchen and fishing for the tea bags. 

“Have a good night's sleep Buff. If you still need us tomorrow, call.” “I will. Thank you.” She hung up the phone. You put your back on the receiver. 

“What did Buffy need?” Giles asked from the kitchen. His voice was smooth, the accent clear. He had sung some in the shower. It was a testament to how close he was with you. 

“She was feeling a little homesick,” you admitted. “She’s gonna be okay.” You turned your body completely, putting your arms up on the couch back. You watched him through the kitchen window, his back turned to you. You could see his arms defined as he started to pour some water into his tea kettle. You put your chin on your hands, admiring him. 

“We could’ve gone down to see her,” he said. 

“She needs space.” He shrugged and glanced back at you. He did a double take when he noticed the wide eyes you were giving him. 

“Are you alright?” 

“I’m fine. Admiring the view.” He chuckled nervously. No matter how long you had been together, he remained slightly flustered at your words. “When did you get those sweatpants?”

“I found them in my drawers when I cleaned them the other day.” He was still looking for a job after the library burnt down. He had plenty of time for house maintenance and random spring cleaning duties. “Why? Do you like them?” 

He came around the kitchen corner. You lifted your head up a bit and nodded, probably a little too eagerly. You reached your hand over the couch and nimbly grabbed at the chords on his pants. 

“They look nice,” you said, looking up at him. He raised an interested eyebrow. 

“I’ve just put the kettle on,” he told you, though his voice gave him away. Raspy, intrigued. 

“So?” you teased. He let out a shaky breath. 

“You’re going to be the death of me,” he muttered, dipping down to kiss you. You strained your neck to kiss him back, putting your hand around the nape of his neck. He completely succumbed to you, easily, without more complaint. It had been so long since Rupert had known a love like yours and he was so consumed by it that it almost hurt. Your mouth opened a bit, to give way for his tongue, which entered quickly. You let out a brief breath, pulling away and diving back in. Because he was still standing (though hunched), you had perfect access to his waist line. 

You slid your hands up his shirt, to the hem of his pants. He shuddered at your cold touch. His hair was still wet, dripping onto your face as you kissed. You gripped his pants, holding onto the top and slowly, slowly, moving them down. He groaned against your lips at the slow movements. Before you got too far, you stopped kissing him and sat up. He watched as you hopped over the couch so that you could properly get on your knees for him. 

He put his hand on your cheek, your jaw. You looked up at him. He turned on his heels so he was leaning against the couch. Your fingers were still on his pants, not daring to move them any lower. 

“Rupert,” you breathed.

“Hmm,” he moaned. “C’mon love,” he whispered. He put his other hand on yours. You tugged a bit, teasingly. He groaned. 

You finally pulled all the way down, his boxers and pants falling to his ankles. His dick sprang to life. You almost made a comment about how eager he was despite his age, but repressed it. You wanted him inside of you. 

You wrapped your lips around him, starting to bob your head without any more thought. You could hear his moaning and it only prompted you forward. He put his hand on the back of your head, bunched in your hair. You used his legs to sturdy yourself. 

“Good lord,” he muttered, head falling back. You went on like that for a couple of minutes, always impressed with his ability to last. When you finally came up for air you were covered in him. You looked up with doe eyes that drove him insane. “Get up here.” 

“Yes sir.” 

You stood up, ignoring the tingling in your knees. He helped you by placing you on the back of the couch. You held your hands around his cheeks, cupping them as he worked at your pants. Once he started he was always eager to get inside you. The words that slipped from his mouth were unintelligible and loving, rough but careful. 

You kicked your pants onto the floor. He put himself against you. He met your gaze. He looked at you with longing, lustful. You smiled loopily, your grip still on his cheeks. 

“Rupert, c’mon,” you muttered. He took your go ahead and shoved himself inside you, wet by your need. He put his head against your shoulder as he started to thrust, no thoughts given towards anything except his desire. Rupert had never been a quiet lover and his grunts proved it. You hung your head back, feeling as he moved inside every inch of you, each thrust long and hard. What he lacked in speed he had in stamina. 

You let out a yelp as he hit the right spot, your hair falling between the gaps of your back. You brought his face back up and kissed him, hungrily, his lips moving around by scarcely finding the right spot. It would’ve made you smile if you weren’t so tied up. 

“God,” he whispered, voice coming out desperately needy. Shaky. “I love you,” he groaned. The tension in your stomach grew as he kept hitting just the right spot. With each thrust you grew closer. “Are you close?” he asked. You nodded, quickly, forgetting to stop. 

“Is it okay-”

“Go ahead,” you grumbled. You didn’t want him to stop. You were on the pill. You pushed the danger aside and pulled him closer to you with your leg wrapped around his waist. 

His thrusts began to get sloppier but you hardly noticed, your own high coming over you. Your legs shook, gripping his body to keep you steady, in case you fell backwards onto the couch. He let out a long moan, indicating his own release. 

You let out a sigh, blissful. 

He stayed inside you, coming down. You hummed. 

“I’ll wear the pants more often,” he said, chuckling. Your laughter mixed in with his as the tea kettle started to whistle. You looked behind him and he followed your gaze, the laughter continuing. He moved out of you, the emptiness almost unbearable. “I’m going to get us something to wash us up,” he said. You nodded once. 

You pushed yourself off the couch and walked over to the kitchen. You took the kettle off the stove.

[darling-i-read-it]

i commend people who are able to write WHO STORIES across MULTIPLE PARTS. i am not built that way. it has to be one or two otherwise i lose interest and feel like im building up to soomething i cant find. id rather it be 7k words then two 3k's you feel.