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#<- in that order. in case that wasn’t obvious
chlobliviate · 1 day
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Wolfstar Microfic - Dementor
Words: 982
@wolfstarmicrofic
🌙✨🌙✨🌙
Remus couldn’t sleep. Something was wrong. He rolled over, taking in the vast empty space on the other side of the bed. He’d known Sirius for ten years. He could be impulsive, arrogant and sometimes even just mean. What he also was, though, was loyal. To a fault, sometimes. Remus just couldn’t recognise the man that he loved in the accusations lodged against him.
Something was very wrong.
He got out of bed, wincing as his bare feet hit the cold floor. If Sirius had been working for Voldemort, there must be something in their flat to verify that. He started in the spare room, which had originally been Sirius’ room until they realised that he hadn’t slept in there for three months, at which point it became the spare room. It still had a lot of Sirius’ stuff in there, though. In boxes under the bed and the wardrobe. There was a lot to go through.
He started under the bed. He found twelve photo albums, which he couldn’t face looking through, and a box full of very racy-looking romance novels. Maybe this wasn’t a good idea, but what was the alternative? Just accept that the man who had kissed him on the forehead and told Remus that he was his whole world two days ago had conspired against them and been responsible for the death of three of their closest friends?
The next box Remus pulled out made him stop. In it was a small black chest with an inscription on the lid.
‘This chest, much like mine, will only open for you, Moons.’
Remus choked back a sob as he lifted the chest onto the bed. He ran his finger across the inscription and heard something click within. He was able to open it. He took a deep breath before looking inside. There were several photos of the two of them that Remus was quite glad that Sirius hadn’t put in a photo album and two envelopes.
He opened the first envelope. It was a contract. A contract that passed the role of secret-keeper from Sirius to Peter, and it was dated four months prior. Remus’ head was spinning. That was Pete’s signature, and he could tell from the paper that it had been magically signed too. He needed to take this to Dumbledore, or the Ministry. Someone who could tell if this was real or not. Then he noted the signature of the witness to the contract. Dumbledore. He knew. This made no sense.
He opened the second envelope, hoping for a miracle.
20th September 1981
Dear Moony,
I assume that if you’re reading this, then it’s likely something has happened to me, or maybe you’re just nosier than I thought you were.
I think Pete is the traitor. He became Prongs and Lily’s secret keeper back in June (see attached contract) because he convinced us all that I would be the obvious choice and Voldemort would never suspect him.
Since then I’ve noticed that anything that Pete knows quickly becomes used against the Order. Pete knew that Marlene and her sister would be with their parents last Friday. Only Pete, Dumbledore and I knew that. I certainly didn’t tell anyone, and it would surprise me if Dumbledore did. So that leaves Peter or a very lucky guess from the Death Eaters.
He’s also been in my ear about you. He’s been saying for months how suspicious it is that we aren’t told about your missions in meetings, and how many meetings you miss. I know you, as I hope you know me, and I know that you would never do this.
I have expressed my worries about this to Dumbledore, who knows that Pete is the secret keeper now. He told me that I was being paranoid and that J, L and H are perfectly safe. I hope that’s still the case when you read this.
If something has happened to me, look into Peter. I don’t think Dumbledore will care, so see if Moody will.
I hope I get to see you again.
I love you.
Padfoot
Remus didn’t hesitate before apparating to the Aurors offices.
Alastor Moody got on well with Remus and when he showed up looking distraught in the middle of his night shift, he leapt into action. He took the information from Remus, verified the magic signatures on the contract as belonging to Sirius, Peter and Dumbledore, and left the room. Remus sat in the offices for what felt like weeks, but the sun hadn’t even risen yet. Kingsley had sat with him for a while, telling him what Moody was working on, but Remus couldn’t take much of it in.
Moody appeared after several more long hours. “Remus. We’ve done magical trace tests on the finger we found at the scene. He did that to himself.”
“What are you saying, Alastor?” Remus asked, not wanting to hope too much.
“I’m saying that your man is being released from Azkaban as we speak. The dementors don’t like it, but it’s not their decision. This never should have happened. Shit. He should have had a trial, I’m so sorry. I don’t know how we missed this.”
Remus shook his head, “Dumbledore knew the whole time.”
Moody nodded, “I know. That’s something I urgently need to look into, but I needed to right the wrong first. He’s only been there for a day and a half, but the dementors…”
“I know. I’ll look after him.” Remus said as the fireplace glowed and two men stepped out. Sirius looked pale and his eyes were unfocused. Remus stumbled to his feet and pulled Sirius to him.
“Moons?” His voice was hoarse.
“I’ve got you. You’re alright.” Remus whispered into his hair. “You’re safe.”
“It wasn’t me.”
“I know, love. I found your letter.” Remus kissed the side of Sirius’ head. “I never believed it was you.”
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actual-changeling · 1 year
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So, I was rewatching the kiss scene frame-by-frame, as one does, and I realized something. First I thought, well, Alex, you probably saw that wrong, let’s keep going. A minute later, however, I was confronted with the reality of no, not mistaken. 
Maybe I am late to the party and everyone has already seen it and knows about it, but in case there are people that haven’t: Aziraphale not only puts his hand on Crowley’s back, he puts his left one on his waist BEFORE that.
Not just that, he slides it up and also uses it as leverage to pull Crowley closer. I could go through those few seconds one frame at a time, but that would take forever, so I will give you the highlights in chronological order.
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His hands flutter around at first and don’t settle anywhere, which is actually really useful since it shows us what the angle for that looks like.
Now, the next time his left hand moves up, look at the progression. It does not go down the same way as before. Instead, it moves inward and against Crowley’s waist. And it STAYS THERE right up until he moves both of his hands away.
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Look at the angle!!!! Look at how it moves INWARD and towards Crowley instead of straight down like before.
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Still moving towards Crowley with a slight downwards drift because he is aiming for his waist.
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Now it is too low for us to see but I think it is very obvious where his hand has settled. Maybe I am going insane after only thinking about this show for almost a month straight. Maybe not. Call me crazy but the angle here is DIFFERENT. The second one very much looks like he is holding onto Crowley.
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Aziraphale kisses back. Fully kisses back. Somehow, that wasn’t enough for Michael Sheen, no, he had to fully commit to it and *close his eyes* when he reciprocates, too. Look at this!!! The way his eyes flutter shut when Crowley first grabs him, then open, and then CLOSE AGAIN when he starts holding him in return. Kissing back with his eyes closed and his arms wrapped around him. The last picture is right before he moves his hand to his waist/the frame after the camera angle changes.
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Anyone else losing it right now? No? Just me? That’s fine, although I most definitely am not. Fine, that is. Michael Sheen I’m sending you my fucking therapy bills.
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gay-dorito-dust · 1 year
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Tag list: @sh-tposter2021 @casmosmoon @hoesindifferentshows @daffodildelight @stuckinaoaktree @this-is-music @good-so @farleyis @starksdaughter20
Part 1
It has been a couple of days since your confession and Hobie was conflicted on whether he should rip the preverbal bandaid off and tell you of his secret identity, and possibly putting you at risk for potentially dangerous circumstances in the future, or keep you in the dark for a little while longer until he felt brave enough with himself and his situation to come forward; After all personal relationships -whether platonic or romantic- and Spider-Man never went well together. It was a sacrifice placed upon the shoulders of all variations who were chosen to dawn the mask of Spider-Man.
For if the legacy of being Spider-Man was a death sentence to those who are close, Hobie doesn’t want you death to be treated as his ‘canon event’ or whatever hand fisted bullshit excuse Miguel was trying to ram down everyone’s throats in order to justify in allowing a loved one of theirs to die. Hobie refuses that being the case and due to his righteous mistrust of Miguel, he kept your name out of his mouth unless it was within the presence of the few he could trust; Miles, Pavitr and Gwen.
‘So they have a crush on you.’ Pavitr began.
‘Yeah.’
‘And you have a crush on them.’ Miles jumped in.
‘Ain’t no point in hiding it.’ Hobie cooly replied because why should he bother hiding the obvious.
‘So…what’re you going to do about it?’ Gwen finishes and Hobie only shrugs in response, ‘dunno.’
Pavitr made an face of exaggerated shock and looks over at Miles and Gwen, who were already expecting this reaction from him as they exchanged looks with him, before looking back at Hobie. ‘Dunno, the person you like has expressed that they like you too-‘ ‘-it wasn’t me they were talking to Pav, it was Spider-Man, clear difference. No need to rom-com it.’ Pavitr waved his comment away and continues on his tangent, ‘they like you, you like them and your response to all that is; Dunno?!’ Hobie -again- shrugs. He really didn’t know what to do, yes the feelings between you two were mutual but that didn’t mean he was going to risk your safety over them; no matter how deeply he feels them to the point where the mere idea of you being put at risk because of him acting out of his selfishness in having you, made him physically hurt.
Hobie would rather enact upon his selfishness in a way that meant letting you go and moving on to someone who wasn’t going to be putting your life in constant danger, whilst also getting to shamelessly cling onto some part of you in the process; even if that meant just being your friend, even though he already knew that wasn’t what you wanted. ‘What do you want me to do Pavitr?’ Hobie began, ‘Go up to them and be like ‘remember the talk you had with Spider-Man up on the roof? Yeah that was me and no I’m not having a laugh because I like you too.’ He made a face at this, ‘nah I’d rather them call me a nonce for the rest of my life, well that is if they still want me in their life afterwards for lying to them this entire time.’ He murmurs the last part to himself mostly and it was silent for a while as he, Pavitr, Gwen and Miles sat on what has been said.
The later three shared a look between them as Hobie looked at a picture of the two of you that he kept within the pockets of his vest, smiling softly to himself as the echos of your laughter ran in his head like a melody he could set his soul adrift to on his most sleepless of nights. It was obvious to Gwen, Pavitr and Miles that Hobie held you close to his chest, right where his heart is; Gwen in particular was aware of how much of an impact you had on Hobie from the times she spent at his place and it was obvious as to where it was that you touched as Hobie made it apparent to keep it that way. You’ve made a home for yourself within Hobie’s heart and she knew that he’d fight to keep you in his life.
‘Hobie,’ he lifted his eyes to meet theirs, ‘would you rather be afraid to tell them who you are for the rest of your life, or tell them while you still have the chance because from what you’ve already told us about y/n, they wouldn’t hate you or call you a nonce, whatever that is.’ Miles mumbled under his breath as Hobie raised his brows, ‘has it crossed your mind at all that you might just overthinking all this? Not to say the fear ain’t real, what I’m trying to get at is this; you should pursue what makes you happiest, regardless of the fears you may have because in the end isn’t it better to have love and lost then to have never have loved at all?’
Hobie mulled on Miles’ advice once he got back to his reality before finding himself standing on that very same rooftop where his conflict began, looking down as he clutched his mask between both hands in contempt, so much so that he didn’t even hear your voice call out to him until you were right next to him. ‘Hobie? Everything alright?’ He had told you prior to meet up on the rooftop of some abandoned apartment complex that you were more then camisole with at this point, but the way he said it made you feel as though there was something eating away at your best friend and you weren’t about to let him go through anything alone without you.
Upon realising how close you were to him, Hobie was slick enough to hide his mask behind his back when he addressed you, stuffing it into his back pocket so that you wouldn’t get overly curious as to his hand placement but then again you were always as observant as him when he noticed the way your eyes lingered, like you already knew what this was about; to which Hobie wouldn’t be surprised if that was the case for it would make this situation a lot easier for you to process what you already knew. ‘Yeah, everything’s cool, why is it that you think somethings up?’ The raise of your brows only told Hobie that you weren’t buying it, ‘oh I think there is but it looks to me that you need a little prompting.’ and without missing a beat your hand was halfway to reaching for his back pocket when he caught your wrist, holding it there as he looked at you incredulously. ‘The hell was that for knobhead.’
You shrugged, ‘like I said, you needed prompting otherwise you wouldn’t be defending whatever’s in your back pocket so adamantly as you are now.’ You were smart, Hobie had to give you that as he lets go of your wrist and decides to quit the unnecessary prolonging and pulled out the mask from his back pocket, chucking it into your awaiting hands as he then sat himself near to the edge with his back facing you so he couldn’t see the look upon your face when you say, ‘so this is what you were hiding from me…I knew Spider-Man felt too familiar and now I know why.’ He heard your footsteps get closer before stopping all together as you sat yourself next to him.
You were both silent but it was a silence loud enough to dampen out anything else in that moment and Hobie didn’t know where this silence would lead to, and neither did you as you were now realising that you had confessed your feelings to your best friend without knowing it; which was already enough to take in but for that friend to also be spider-man was a whole other thing to unpack. Where you mad that he didn’t tell you? No, not even in the slightest but you were more worried then you could ever be mad, after all you just found out your crush and best friend was spider-man for fuck sakes so of course you’d be more worried for his well being. ‘Here,’ you tell him, holding out his mask for him to take, ‘you can have it back.’ Hobie did as you asked and took his mask back, but before it was fully in his grasp you yanked it away from his reach, causing him to look at you.
‘Give it.’ He tells you straightforwardly but you stood your ground as you pressed a finger to your cheek, ‘not until you tell me something first; did you know I had a crush on you prior.’ Hobie shrugs. ‘No, honestly it wasn’t until but you admitted that you liked me that somethings started to make sense.’ You hummed, content with his answer but you weren’t through quite yet. ‘Do you…feel the same.’ You once again asked but this time your voice wasn’t as steady and strong, it was fearful and hesitant; something Hobie never wants you to be when near him.
‘Of course I do, I thought I made it obvious when I personally dealt with those who chatted shit about you behind you back, I thought it was obvious that when I let you into my heart, that there would be no way that I was letting you go but with this,’ he gestured to the mask in your outstretched hand, ‘made it all the more harder for me to do that without putting you in danger; I was hiding this other life from you to protect you but you were always too observant for your own good but it’s one of the many things I love about you.’ Hobie admits, happy he finally got it off of his chest. After hearing all that, you gave him back his mask and rested your head against his shoulder, murmuring, ‘your such a hassle.’
Hobie smiled for what felt like the first time in a long while throughout this whole situation and slugged his arm over your shoulder before resting his head on top of yours, ‘yeah but I’m your hassle.’ He says before pressing a kiss to your head, feeling you as you snuggle into his side, smiling to yourself, ‘how unfortunate.’ You say half heartedly as Hobie joins in, ‘yeah, poor you.’
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mostlymarvelsstuff · 2 months
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Good Luck Babe
Summary: Natasha is conflicted on her sexuality due to the way shes been raised. This causes her to act rather harmfully as she pulls both Y/n and Steve along for the ride. (No powers AU)
Authors note: In case it wasn't obvious this fic was very much inspired by "Good Luck, Babe!" by Chappell Roan
Warnings: smut(fingering, hickies, scissoring), angst(internalized homophobia, brief Nat x Steve), hurt/comfort, happy ending
Word count: 5748
Natasha Masterlist Marvel Masterlist
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     Natasha shivers as the air in the room starts to feel cold on her exposed body. Noticing her discomfort you quickly reach over and pull the blanket over you both. Her eyes drift up to your face and you smile softly at her while admiring the different green hues and flecks of gold that make up her eyes
   “Y/n….” She whispers, not wanting to disturb such a serene moment 
   “Yeah baby?”
   Her heart almost always melts whenever you call her that, though she may never admit that to herself,  “Kiss me?”
   You had to chuckle a bit. This wasn't your first time in a situation like this with her, plus the two of you had just spent hours entangled in each other while having sex. And yet here she was acting almost shy. You lean forward and connect your lips to hers. The kiss is soft and sweet, and if you didn't know better you'd say it was filled with love. But you do know better. And you also know, she'll be gone by morning.
   You both break apart and she scoots impossibly closer, resting her face against your chest as her arm drapes over your midsection, “Goodnight Tasha”
   “Goodnight Y/n”
   The next morning when you wake up the opposite side of the bed is empty, and the lack of presence from the redhead stings despite this being exactly what you expected. The bed always feels colder without her, and though your brain tells you it'll never happen, a part of your heart longs for a day when you wake up to her greeting you a good morning.
   Eventually you had dragged yourself out of bed and gone about your morning as you normally would. Breakfast, shower, drive to work. Once at work your day was rather dull, full of paperwork, phone calls and meetings. As per usual. And also as usual your best friend texts you just as your lunch break begins, once again giving no indication that last night's events had transpired
   Natty: Hey, you coming to the club later?
   Y/n: Yeah, I’ll be there
   Natty: Great :) See you later then
   Y/n: See you tonight  
   You’d made arrangements days ago to meet up with your friends at a nearby nightclub after your shift today, and honestly you were dredging doing so now. Natahsa was going to be there, which was doable. You’ve been pretending to still be nothing more to her than her best friend for the past month now so it wasn’t a strain, just disappointing. What you were actually concerned about was Steve. 
   He was sure to be there, which normally meant little to you, but lately he and Nat have been getting rather close. Close enough that there's talk of them potentially getting together soon. And that thought made your heart sink. You figured what you had with Nat was fleeting, she was clearly scared to embrace the fact that she was into women, but that didn’t mean you were ready to let her go. It didn’t mean you didn’t actually have feelings for her and were ready to watch her just move on. Especially with Steve of all people. But what could you do?
   Hours later you find yourself at one of the club's tables with Sam, Maria and Steve waiting for the others to arrive. Thankfully the blond doesn’t talk to you much, not that you struggle to be cordial, you just really didn’t want to engage with him. Which you suppose was a bit unfair considering he didn’t know what you and Nat had going on, but despite this you all manage to hold a conversation until Bucky and Sharon show up. With all but one now in attendance you all decide to go ahead and order your drinks, but before you can tell the bartender what Nat would want Steve does. You try not to frown, afterall this didn’t mean anything, everyone in the group knew everyone's orders. But it still puts a bad taste on your tongue.
   Finally the redhead shows up, and she offers you a bright smile as she approaches the group. You smile back but it's all for show really, because you know she’ll take the empty seat across from you next to Steve instead of the one next to you. Your heart sinks when she proves you right and you can’t help but let your smile drop. You thought you'd be used to this by now. She always goes back to acting as if she's not attracted to you. Acting like Steve is who she wants to be with when they haven't even entered a relationship and she's entering your bed most nights. 
   But you aren't used to it. It still stings and makes you jealous. But you kept your mouth shut. Better to have her one way then never at all. That's what you'd first told yourself. But now, you've fallen deeper for her, and watching her try to fall for someone else while still holding you, hurts. And you know that you have to say something soon or you'll only be hurt worse.
   As if trying to prove your inner monologue correct, Natasha leans closer to Steve and sets her hand on his forearm. Her thumb starts to rub soothing circles on his bare skin, just like she normally does with you when the two of you are alone, and he turns to offer her a smile before returning to his conversation with Sam. The interaction has you downing half your drink in one go and if you hadn’t been so quick to leave the table and excuse yourself to the bathroom you’d have noticed the look of concern that crossed the redheads face
   You stare at yourself in the bathroom mirror lost in a whirlwind of thoughts for a few minutes until the cause of said whirlwind opens the door. You attempt to straighten yourself out so you can ignore her arrival and leave but you should have known she wouldn’t let this be easy.
   “Are you alright?” she asks, placing her arm on your bicep to stop you from passing by
   Part of you feels cared for by the concern in her tone, but the other part of you remembers that she is the reason you feel this way, “Yeah, I’m good.”
   Her eyes soften as she looks you over, “You're not though. Something is bothering you.”
   You glance at the floor to avoid her gaze but she doesn’t like this very much and cups your face to bring your gaze back to her
   “You can talk to me, you know?”
   “I know” you admit, briefly contemplating if you really wanted to have this conversation in a dirty club bathroom, but you really don’t. You’d rather not have to have it at all truly, “Lets go rejoin the others before they get suspicious”
   She follows you back out and you both sit back down at the table. More drinks are ordered and the night goes on, and you do your absolute best to avoid how close Nats mouth gets to Steve's ear when she tells him things or how Steve's arm curls around her waist to keep her close to him. But while you're doing your best to ignore them Nat keeps her eye on you. She won't lie, she knows what she's doing is taking a toll on both herself and especially you, and she knows she'd be hurting if the roles were reversed. But she's terrified to allow that part of herself to exist, knowing the ramifications.
   Steve was the stereotypical “perfect” guy, and she knew being with him would make her parents happy and proud. They would love him. He was the safe choice, he was acceptable, he is who she's supposed to want. But that's the thing, she doesn’t really want him. She wants you, but every fiber of her being tells her that it's wrong. That she's not supposed to want you that way, that she shouldn’t be engaging in the sexual activity that she is with you, that her parents won't accept her. But each moment she spent with you just felt so right. She felt so hopelessly stuck on what to do
    A few days pass before you hear from Natasha again, and to no surprise you find yourself right back in the same position you always do, naked and in your bed. She's laying below you with her hands wrapped around your neck and her legs intertwined with yours as the two of you engage in a heavy and heated makeout session
  The need for air has the two of you breaking apart and you slowly make your way down her neck to her chest, kissing as you go. She lets out a few moans and whimpers each time you hit some of her more sensitive places, and she can tell by this that you're trying your best to work her up slowly. Problem is she can’t do slow, not tonight. Even though she desperately wants to
   “Y/n…” she moans as you near her hips
   “What is it baby?”
   “We can’t take too long” she admits in a hushed tone, “My date with Steves in a few hours”
   Your movements stop as you take in her words, and it honestly feels like your roof is crashing down over your head. How could she think coming here before going out on a date with him was the right move? And how could she think that you’d be okay with her just bringing that up while you're in this vulnerable position with her?
   “Natasha, I can’t keep doing this”
   This takes her by surprise and the use of her full name has anxiety building inside of her. She sits up on her elbows to look at you, “What do you mean?”
   You scoff, “You know exactly what I'm talking about. I'm tired of not being able to have you fully and always playing second to him. I'm tired of having your possessiveness but not your heart.”
   Oh if only you knew the truth, if only she could muster the courage to tell you. Instead all she can do is fumble her words, “Y/n, I…”
   “Save it.” You hiss, standing up. She feels more vulnerable than she ever has with you and moves her arms to cover herself. You feel guilty for this, but you can't hurt yourself anymore, “Get your clothes back on Natasha. I wouldn't want you to be late for your date. We’re done anyway”
“Are …are you saying we can't see each other anymore?” she asks, tears already starting to slide down her cheeks. She had expected this, had known it had been building for a while now and had a feeling that news would be the final straw. But she couldn’t hide this from you, nor would she ever lie to you about it 
   “Yes Natasha, that's exactly what I'm saying. I can't keep doing this back and forth between him and me. I need certainty and commitment, and I know I'll never get that from you” you admit, trying to blink away the tears in your eyes, “Whatever this was, is done. You can’t have both of us, and it's clear you've chosen him.”
   Her lip quivers at your harsh but not unfair words, and her heart aches, “I- ”
   “Just go Natasha!” you snap
   She quickly gets off your bed, picks up her clothes from your floor and dresses herself as she makes her way down the hall. Tears blur her vision as she continues towards your door, and her hand trembles when she reaches for the knob. She closes it behind her and rushes to her car before her emotions get the better of her.
   As soon as you hear your front door shut you let yourself slump down on your bed with a quiet sob. Part of you had hoped she’d fight what you were saying, admit to be scared and she’d stay looking for your comfort and support. But the other part of you had tried to be prepared for this outcome since day one. Tried being the key word, because when you love someone, you can only be so prepared to say goodbye when you're not the one chosen.
   Out in her car the redhead has no qualms about breaking down, and she does so right there in front of your house. A sob escapes her as the reality of the situation hits her. This isn’t what she wanted, but she knows it's what she caused by everything she put into motion with Steve. And honestly that makes the pain even worse, she's lost you and it's all because she's a coward.
   She somehow manages to make it back to her house despite crying almost uncontrollably the entire drive. Once inside she finds herself at a crossroads. Does she postpone her date with Steve, crawl into bed and mourn what could have been with you? Or does she find her resolve and force herself to see this through and go on pretending that it's Steve she wants?
   An hour later Steves at her door, and she opens it to greet him. He's in a nice pair of jeans and a button up shirt with a collar. His hair is neatly combed and he's sporting a huge smile. His eyes widen when he takes in her sundress, and her heart aches as she remembers that you’d had nearly the same reaction
  “Wow Nat, you look great” he admits before pulling out a small bouquet, “I got you these”
   She puts on her best smile and takes the flowers from him, “Thank you Steve, let me put them in some water and then we can go. Please come in”
   The blond stands in her living room, watching her with a fondness as she moves about the kitchen to find a vase and fill it with water. She sets it on the kitchen table before making her way back over to the man and he offers her his arm
   “Shall we go?” he asks, and she can only nod due to the lump in her throat
    He takes her to a quaint little restaurant that's a family run establishment, and they find themselves in a booth towards the back. Instead of sitting across from her he slides in beside her and though he seems to like this arrangement it makes her stomach drop. She wasn’t uncomfortable necessarily, but she certainly wasn’t at ease either. She didn’t want him to be so close, not when it was your presence she was craving.
   The two order and as they await their meal a casual conversation is had. Natasha thinks she's handling herself quite well in the face of everything until his arm moves to rest on the back of the cushion behind her shoulders. Instead of her usual nonchalance to his touch she finds herself starting to spiral. All she can think about is your touch, how your arms feel around her when you hold her. How safe and cared for it makes her feel. And instead she's here with Steve. She shouldn’t be but she is, and it takes almost everything in her not to tear up at the thought of you.
   Thankfully the food soon arrives and so his arm moves, allowing her to feel a bit calmer again. They carry on with sporadic conversation as they eat and while it's clear he's truly enjoying himself here with her, her mind drifts away back to you every chance she gets. How were you handling this? Were you alright? What on earth was she doing? If he notices her lack of attention or interest he doesn’t say anything, and honestly she's very grateful for that. 
   After they finish their meal he walks her back to his car and begins to drive her home. It wasn’t bad until his hand found purchase on her thigh, but she does her best to ignore the burning feeling of guilt and longing in her heart. But when his thumb starts to caress her skin as you usually did she finds herself becoming quite nauseous. Thankfully they finally pull up in front of her house and she tries not to seem too eager at the prospect as she exits his car.
   However Steve is a gentleman, and he insists on walking her to her front door. And though she should have expected his next move due to everything he's hinted at this evening, her mind was obviously a bit jumbled. So when he leans in for a kiss it takes her a moment to even process that his lips are on hers. Once she realizes however she finds herself panicking and unable to carry on this charade any longer. This was wrong. All wrong. 
   She brings her hands up to his chest and pushes him away, causing him to look at her in confusion. Tears start to build in her eyes as she rushes to explain herself, “I’m sorry Steve, I’m so sorry. I can’t do this, this was a mistake”
   He nods solemnly, “There's someone else, isn’t there?”
   “Yes, there is. And I shouldn’t be here, shouldn't have agreed to this. I should be with her” she admits, and it feels like a weights been lifted off her shoulders, “I’m so sorry, I never meant to lead you on or hurt you, and I never wanted to hurt her either”
   “Nat, breathe. Relax and take a deep breath” she does as told and he continues, “Its okay, I’m not mad. A bit disappointed this didn’t go as planned, sure. But it sounds like you were just trying to figure yourself out, and I can’t be upset at you for that”
   She lets out a deep breath and looks at him with gratitude, “Thank you, I just didn’t know what to do and now I’ve ruined everything”
   “Hey, you messed up, but nothing is ruined” he says, giving her a soft smile, 
   She scoffs “She probably hates me. Probably wouldn’t even trust me after this.”
   “Nat, this girl clearly has your heart. If you don’t at least try, you’ll forever live with the what ifs.”
   She looks at him and knows he's right. Plus she owes it to not only herself but to you to finally be honest and sincere about everything, “Thank you Steve, for everything. I've got to go”
   He nods and watches her rush off to her car and stands there still as she pulls out of her driveway. Her tires squeal as she turns and he can’t help but think how lucky this mystery girl was to have Natashas affections, especially when they appeared to run as deeply as they did.
   You're startled by a loud and frantic knocking at your front door and cautiously make your way to open it. To say you're surprised to see the redhead there would be an understatement and you certainly weren’t prepared for the words that rapidly spill out of her mouth either
   “Y/n, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. And I understand completely if you still send me away after this, but you deserve to actually hear it. I've been an idiot and a coward, and I haven’t been treating you right at all. I made such a mess of everything all because of my fears and I selfishly dragged you and poor Steve into my mess. But please know I’ve never wanted Steve, not ever. I’ve just been too afraid to admit to both myself and anyone else what I like and who I truly want.” 
   You carefully cup her face in your hands, and she looks at you expectantly through her watery eyes, “And who do you want, Tasha?”
   “You, I want you.” she finally admits, sending both of your hearts racing, “All I could think about on that stupid date was you. And god Y/n, I never wanted to hurt you, leaving here earlier was such a mistake- ”
   Your lips crash into hers, effectively cutting off her rambling, and she practically melts against you. Her arms wrap tightly around your waist as if to show you how she never intends to let you go again, and your thumbs brush away the stray tears from her cheeks as you deepen the kiss. And her hold on you never falters even when you pull away for air
   “You came back” you whisper in disbelief, making her heart ache
   “There's nowhere else I'd rather be. I’m just so sorry it took me so long to find my courage, detka(baby). Ya tebya lyublyu”
   Now it's your turn to shed a few tears, “I’m pretty sure I know what that means, but I’d like confirmation”
   She smiles at you, “I love you”
   “I love you too” you reply, your voice a bit strained from choking back your emotions. Afterall, you never thought you’d hear her say it, let alone have the chance to say it back, “I thought I’d lost you”
   Her hold on your waist tightens, “I’m so sorry. I’m never going anywhere. Not ever again. I’m yours, if you’ll still have me.”
   You really never thought she’d choose to be here with you over the life expected of her. But she did, she's here and finally ready to be with you fully, “Of course I’ll still have you, Tasha.”
   She smiles an ear to ear smile and lets out a carefree giggle before launching herself into your arms, “I won’t ever let you down again, I promise”
   “Come on, let's head inside” you suggest, kissing the top of her head before gently tugging her towards the house
   She eagerly follows and you barely manage to get the door shut and locked before she's wrapping her arms around you once more. Your arms instinctively wrap around her waist as she nuzzles her face against your neck, and you can’t help but smile when she lets out a soft giggle. You can tell how happy she is now that she's embracing her true self with you, and it honestly has you elated. Not just because she chose to be with you either, while that does add to it, but because she's no longer letting anyone else's thoughts, opinions, or judgements dictate how she lives or loves.
   After a few more moments she leans back out of your embrace and begins to pull you out of the entryway and further into the house. She doesn’t keep her hands off you for long though, because as soon as you enter the living room she's guiding you over to the couch. You plop down on one of the cushions and before you can even question what she's up to she's straddling your lap. Your hands find purchase on her hips while hers rest on your shoulders. She looks down at you with a smile before leaning in for another kiss. It starts off as a series of soft and loving kisses, but the longer you two sit there the more it evolves into a full blown make out session.
   Before long her hands are tangling in your hair and your grip on her waist moves up under her shirt to caress the skin by her waistline. She lets out a soft moan at the touch but pulls back away from you a bit. At first the rapid movement of her chest leads you to believe that she's only catching her breath but that's not the case
   “Are you sure?” she asks with a vulnerability you've not yet seen shining in her eyes
   “Tasha, this isn’t anything new for us” you point out with a smile
   “But it is,” she insists, “Every other time both of us were unsure of the other's feelings and trying to ignore our own. And don’t get me wrong the sex was good, like really good, but it was just hooking up. This time I want something….”
   “Real” you finish for her, looking at her knowingly, “You want something as intimate as you feel”
   “Yes. And I definitely don’t want it on the living room sofa”
   You chuckle, “I agree, come on”
   She quickly removes herself from your lap and waits for you to stand before she begins to make her way back the hall to your room, and you find it quite adorable how her smile never fades from her face. Once in your room she approaches you and her hands find the familiar place on your hips once more. She kisses you again, softly yet hungrily before tugging on the bottom of your shirt
   “Can I?” You nod and lift your arms to help her get you out of your shirt, and your bra follows soon after it, “God, you're so beautiful detka(baby). I haven’t told you that enough, but I won’t go a single day without reminding of it now”
   Your cheeks flush at her words and you manage to get out a hushed, “Thank you Tasha”
   She smiles and pecks your lips again before her hands find the waistline of your jeans and she looks at you expectantly. You nod your permission once more and soon your pants and underwear are on the floor too. 
   “Your turn” you tell her, reaching for her shirt, “If thats ok?”
   She eagerly nods, “Yes. Please”
   Her clothes get taken off even faster than yours had it seems, and your eyes rake over her bare body for a few moments before returning to hold her gaze. The way you look at her makes her bite her bottom lip and you let out a sigh
   “You're absolutely gorgeous, baby”
   It's her turn to flush then, and she finds herself unable to wait any longer. She surges forward, wraps her arms around you and kisses you passionately before moving you closer to the bed, “Lay down for me, please”
   You do as you're told and once she's sure you're in the position you want to be in she straddles you again. It's different this time though, because now you can feel her bare heat against your thigh, and she's already wet.
   Your hands move to her hips ready to help her start moving against you like you normally would, but she stops you, “Tasha?”
   “Shh detka(baby)” she coos, leaning over you slightly, “Just let me take care of you. Let me show you how special you are, how much you mean to me”
   “Okay” you agree in a mere whisper, your mouth too dry to be any louder currently
   Natasha smiles down at you while placing her hands on your stomach, and she traces shapes against the soft skin there before letting her hands roam across the rest of your body. Her touch is slow and gentle, but when she reaches your breasts you're unable to hold back a whimper of pleasure
   “That's it, let me hear you” she coaxes as her hands continue to palm your breasts, which causes more sounds of pleasure to leave you as her lips once again meet yours
   As her fingers tweak your nipples she ends up swallowing the next moan you make, which has her subconsciously grinding down on your thigh a few times, which only makes you moan again, a bit louder this time. She eventually pulls back from you only to start kissing down your jawline and to your chest, and your so distracted by the way her mouth feels that you hadn’t even notice her one hand had moved to brace herself on the bed while the other had moved to your pussy until her fingers are swiping through your folds
   “Don’t worry” she mumbles against your chest as she glances up at you, “Gonna take such good care of you”
   Your mouth parts with yet another moan as two of her fingers slip inside you, and she hums at the way your walls squeeze her. She starts to curl them and lets her palm brush against your clit as she continues to kiss your chest, slowly moving towards your breasts. She kisses one of your plump mounds a few times before wrapping her lips around your nipple, and then she finally begins to thrust her fingers
   “Oh god” you mumble, back arching slightly at the sudden spike of pleasure. She merely hums in acknowledgment as she continues her movements, and it isn't long until the sounds of your moans and arousal fill the room 
   She lets go of your nipple with a pop and quickly kisses her way back up your chest and jawline, “You're so wet detka(baby)”
   “Mhm” you answer, unable to currently form words, which proves to only spur her on. Her thrusts pick up speed then, causing you to cry out, “Ah! Tasha! I’m so close”
   Suddenly her lips brush against the shell of your ear, “Konchi dlya menya, moya lyubov'(cum for me, my love)”
   You aren’t sure what she's said, but it doesn't seem to matter, because it's what finally pushes you over the edge. You cum hard but she continues her movements, albeit more gently now, to help you come back down from your high. But as soon as you let out a whimper she knows you're too sensitive to continue. She lays herself further on top of you, calming you with her weight, then pulls her fingers out of you. She brings them up to her own mouth to clean them, and if you were more cognisant you'd have made a comment on it
   You spend the next minute or two catching your breath before you realize just how wet your thigh is, and you find your energy coming back as you get excited by the prospect of taking care of her now.
   You gently nudge her waist with your hand, “Roll onto the other side of the bed for me baby”
   She eagerly does as she's told and sits herself against the headboard, but you have to hold back a moan at the sight of her slick covered thighs as she gets herself comfortable. She bites her lower lip as you straddle her, and her hands instinctively grab your waist and pull you closer until your nose is brushing against hers
   “Hey” she breathes out, her eyes looking straight into yours
   “Hi” you reply, smiling stupidly before kissing her fiercely
   The two of you sit there making out for who knows how long until Natasha can ignore her aching needs no longer. She whines into your mouth and bucks her hips hoping you’ll get the idea. And you do, but she's a bit confused when you move back off her lap
   “Lift this leg for me” you pant, still a bit breathless.She does as you ask, but was in no way prepared for the way your warm and soaked pussy would feel right up against hers
   “Bozhe moy(oh my god” she moans, letting her head fall back against the headboard
   “Well, that sounded like somebody likes this”  you tease as you roll your hips, causing you both to let out moans 
   As your hips slowly keep moving you bring your hands up to her chest, and you gently squeeze her breasts a few times before you let your thumbs brush over her sensitive nipples. She brings her arms to hold you once more which in turn helps you in your movements
   “Oh! Feels so good!”
   You reply with a moan of your own as you lean into her, letting your forehead rest against her shoulder for a moment as you still toy with her tits. You can feel how rapidly her heart beats under your fingertips, and pride fills you knowing that it belongs to you as much as yours belongs to her. Of that you could be certain 
   You're suddenly overcome by the need to mark her flesh by her neck, and though you have had this urge before you had never acted on it due to all the complications. But it felt appropriate to act on it now. You bring your mouth to her neck and begin to kiss the skin there, which she doesn’t think twice about until she feels your mouth beginning to suck against her pulsepoint
   “Y/n” she whimpers out as her hold on your waist tightens
   You're sure there will be marks there tomorrow based on how you can feel her nail dig in but you hardly care. All you want is to make her feel as good and loved as she just had you feeling, and if that came with visible marks to either of you, then so be it. Your mouth moves to suck another, and then another and it has the redhead nearly falling to pieces 
   “I’m gonna cum. Please cum with me”
   You nod against her and she meets your next thrust with one of her own, sending you both headfirst into your orgasms. The low moan she lets out as her cum gushes against your own cum covers cunt is a sound you've not heard before, but your damn well determined to hear it again now
   The movement of her hands from your waist to the back of your neck has you focusing on her once more and you nearly melt when you see the love sick look on her face. You bring one of your hands up to cup her cheek and she leans into your touch with ease
   “I love you Natasha”
   She can’t help the tears that build in her eyes once more, “I love you too”
   The two of you bask in each other's presence just a bit longer before going to get cleaned up. Not wanting to be apart from each other you both agree to a shared shower in which you both help clean the other and wash their hair. Once your out and dried off you find yourself and Nat some pajamas and as soon as your both dressed she's dragging you back over to the bed for cuddles
   You both stay there the rest of the evening and into the night, sharing conversations as the tv plays quietly in the background. But eventually she drifts off to sleep in your arms so you just hold her a while longer before tucking you both into bed.
   When you wake up the next morning you find her still nestled beside you with her arms now wrapped around your midsection. And you smile at the fact that your bed is warm. Just as it should be.
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junosmindpalace · 8 months
Note
can you make a scenario where saiki accidentally makes his s/o cry so now he literally panicking trying to calm her down? and then out of guilt for the next few weeks he doing all these sweet things for her?
lots of fluff please!
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hi there! thank you for your request!
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Last week, Saiki was caught up in an incident.
There was just a lot going through his mind, alright? His parents were on his case about errands--particularly his father, exhausting his powers for his own needs--and his friends kept finding ways to drag him along in their endeavors, and he was worn out; both physically and mentally. 
The second he thinks he gets a mental break to himself to recover, you come along and try to make conversation with that irritatingly cheerful voice he’s been having to listen to as people tear him from limb to limb trying to get him to do this and that for them.
So he accidentally comes off a little harsh when he tells you with a murderous glare to just leave him alone. 
And you know Saiki, and Saiki knows you. You know the stress he’s often under, and he knows you just want to spend some time with him. Neither of you have a problem with either of these things usually, but today, it was just a jumble of emotions and some miscommunication that made it all fall apart. 
You try to understand, and you do! But even still, you couldn’t help feeling bad for upsetting him, and are unable to prevent the stray tears that pricked at your eyes from rolling down your cheeks. You immediately wipe them away with the palm of your hand and give him an apologetic smile, but Saiki immediately panics. 
He panics a little simply recalling the incident, even a week later when you’ve practically forgotten all about your crying and getting your feelings hurt. Still, Saiki feels bad, and ever since the incident occurred, he’s been trying to dull the guilt and sense of obligation to compensate for his actions in his heart. 
But though it doesn't seem like he's doing anything unique to an outsider who may not know him very well, you can tell the small shift in his attitude toward you in the weeks following the incident.
Seeing you splayed out in distress over a desk is a sight Saiki has become accustomed to with all the time you spend studying together. Typically, a couple of "motivating" words from him telling you to just pull yourself together and break down the material is enough to get you to begrudgingly pull yourself up and work. As of late, however, he'll tells you to stop moaning about your work when it gets too difficult to understand or you’re too tired to comprehend any of the material, and to just copy off him. He words it in a way that makes it seem that it's to his benefit, but usually Saiki wasn’t the type to lend you his work, believing that you should put in effort yourself, even when you’re whining about it. 
He sacrifices life and limb to help you with your daily tasks. Mundane things he knows you can handle yourself, but now his absolute first instinct is to immediately look for ways he can help you, even if he rolls his eyes and reprimands you at first. Lost something of yours? He’s using clairvoyance to track it down. Forgot something at a certain place when you go out? He’s fighting off traffic, interrogations from his friends, and all the other absurd obstacles he often finds interfering in his everyday life just so he can bring it back to you without raising suspicions of his powers. 
And if all those things weren’t obvious enough he’s been trying to atone, he buys you sweets. All of your favorites over the past couple of weeks, paid in full by him whenever the two of you order or stop by a bakery or restaurant. Maybe one found on your desk throughout the school day. He even shares with you his own if you ask or eye them longingly. 
All of these seemingly menial acts leave you a little suspicious, especially since it had been days since the event happened, and it hadn't taken much time for you to come around from the incident and continue being yourself. You expected that his offer to listen to your rant would be the extent of his atonement. Could he really still be stuck on it?
Your speculation is pretty much confirmed that these things were all attempts at making up for his poor behavior when he finds him yet again in a similar situation, exhausted and frustrated thanks to all the nuisances in his life. And then you come skipping along happily, greeting him with news of your day. His brows furrow, his eye twitches, and he’s about to open his mouth. And then he meets your gaze and he pauses. Takes a second. Remembers what happened last time, can see a flash of that pained face you made. 
You give him a look of confusion as you observe his expression. At that point, he can only sigh and slump back. 
"Saiki?”
"Let’s just go home and talk.”
You might catch onto his drained attitude, and offer to take him to one of his favorite dessert places as a treat to refresh and an apology for not recognizing his burden sooner. He’s immediately brightened by this, of course, and you end off with a win-win situation, with Saiki being able to wind down with some treats, and you being able to spill about your day sitting across from him.
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misserabella · 1 month
Text
brat
spencer reid x f! reader
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summary; spencer decides it’s a good day to test your patience by being sassy with you. let’s see if he can keep the act up when you’re punishing him for being a fucking brat.
cw!!; +18 content, minors dni!, s1/s2 spence!, spencer being a brat, cursing, fighting, kind of enemies to lovers, secret relationship, handcuffing (bondage), handjob (s receiving), masturbation (r) (spencer watches), orgasm denial, edging, untouched orgasm, lots of begging, dirty talking, dom! reader and sub! spencer, multiple orgasms, brat taming, piv sex, unprotected sex (don’t do this guys), breeding kink?, hickeys, creampie…
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spencer was having a really shitty day. firstly; he had tripped with the sheets of his bed and landed onto the floor with a grunt, secondly; the coffee shop he always stopped by had closed for the day for some electric problems, what left him without his favorite sugary order and with the really not that great tasting bau’s coffee, thirdly; he was stressed out from the constant load of work, specially this really hard case, and lastly; you hadn’t touched him in a week. a whole fucking week.
spencer and you had this… thing going on. it all started after a rough case in which the two of you had fallen into each other’s arms and ended up sleeping together, something that surprised the two of you, since your relationship wasn’t “the best” to be frank. you two argued and bickered a lot like two little kids with crushes, and had been dancing around each other for quite a long time. it was obvious that you liked each other, but nothing had happened until that night. and after that you two were hooked. of course, the team didn’t know. and you had decided that they wouldn’t yet.
“okay, what about those marks on their bodies, they’re not found exactly in the same place or have the same shape but maybe…”
“no offense, y/n, but you don’t really know what you’re talking about do you?” your mouth gaped slightly at the ring in his tone and the squinting of his eyes. you stalked him as he got up from his seat and went towards the board of evidence, taking a marker and starting to write. “we have no evidence, no apparent interaction between the unsub and the victims pre or post mortem and an indistinguishable mo…” he turned around to face the team once again. “should be simple.” he arched his brows with a mocking pout pulling from his pinky lips as sarcasm tinged his voice.
“you know…?” you looked at him as you crossed your arms over your chest. “instead of taking your fucking temper out on us because you’ve had a shitty day, you could take all that energy and use it to help us, reid.” you had to bite down an impressed chuckle by pushing your tongue against the inside of your cheek as his pretty hazel eyes rolled at your words.
“and you should save your comments concerning your hate towards me ‘cause it’s hard to give a fuck when you’re the smartest motherfucker in the fbi.”
“spencer.” hotch cut the two of you off before the situation could escalate. “take 5.” he ordered.
“but-“
“now.” he silently thew the marker on the table and walked out of the door, leaving the team astonished by his behavior.
derek whistled, shock written over his face. “what was that?”
you gritted your teeth. fucking brat.
“no fucking idea.” you hissed.
seems like you’d have to teach him a lesson.
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“please…!” he’s whimpering, thrashing, his wrists becoming raw from the tugging against the handcuffs that restrained him to the head of your bed.
his cock was beautifully swollen and heavy on your palm, slicked with your spit and his dribbling precum, which can’t stop dripping from the red flushed head. you’re chuckling. his mind was dizzy with the need to cum, his hips sputtering up against the warmth of your hand in need of release. you’d been at this for a while now, bringing him to the edge of an orgasm just to stop all together, squeezing his base, edging him, driving him insane.
“please, i’m sorry…” he begged, gasping, his breathing was ragged, his back arching from the bed you had pinned him down to. you bit harshly down onto his neck, sucking a new bruise that made him whine.
“what did you do, hm?” you inquired him before starting to jerk him once again, humming when more pre cum stained your fingers and the back of your hand. he was making such a fucking mess. he was a fucking mess. and you loved it.
“i-i was a brat…” he whined and you chuckled again at his desperate and breathy answer.
“yeah?”
“yes, yes…” he sounded desperate. it was cute.
“what else?”
“i…” a moan left his lips at the movement of your hand on his cock, up and down, slowly. he was getting lost in that pretty little head of his again. so you stopped, making a pained sound leave his plushy lips. “no, please! please don’t stop!”
“answer me and i’ll keep going, pretty boy.” you thumbed his slit and his whole body shivered in a pretty whine.
“i talked bad at you…” he gulped. “i…i was disrespectful in front of the team.” he gasped, flinching and moaning when you squeezed him. “oh god. fuck. please, please…”
“atta boy. see? that wasn’t difficult.” his adam’s apple bobbed when you spat down on the head of his twitching pretty dick, slicking him up even if he didn’t need it and starting the process of bringing him to the edge once again. after the stress, pent up energy of a whole week and your touch and teasing, it was easy to drive him right to it in a record time. he was a mess of moans and whines, his hips bucking up in the heat and slick of your palm. “looks like you’re about to cum, baby. are you gonna cum?” you inquired him, going faster up and down his cock, and he nodded, whispering little ‘yes’s in between gasps. “i don’t think you deserve it, though, you’ve been such a fucking brat, spencer…” he whimpered. “and all of it for what, hm?” pretty tears started to swell in his eyes as you pushed away your touch from him.
“i just… i just wanted you to touch me.” he whispered, hurt, puppy eyes behind his glasses staring up at you.
“so you went ahead and acted like a fucking brat expecting to win it that way?” you chuckled, incredulous.
he crooked his head, his mouth gaping like a fish in search of words. “please…”
“some pretty pleases ain’t gonna cut it.” you got up and started to undress in front of his eyes, his beautiful cock was flushed and resting against his lower stomach, dribbling white pearls of precum onto his skin. you smirked when you saw it twitch at the sight of your body only on your lace bra and panties. spencer tugged on his restrains when you cupped your breasts obscenely once you had unclasped and thrown away your bra into the pile of clothes decorating the floor of the room. “you like the view, spence?”
his eyes squeezed shut. you were toying with him. he painfully whined, but he still —knowing better— nodded, licking his lips. you hummed, your hands coming down to your panties, your smirk growing when you watched as his eyes followed the trail down and tugged once again at the handcuffs. “you want me to take them off, hm?”
“yes…” he nodded eagerly, his cock twitching at the idea. “please.” he added.
“such good manners… this is what you needed isn’t it, baby? just a little lesson.” you purred, and pushed down the last piece of clothing on your body past your thighs until it fell pooling at your feet. spencer whined needily at the view. you crawled into the bed once again, seating yourself in front of him and spreading open your legs for his hungry eyes. he let out a shaky breath at the sight of your sticky folds and gaping entrance, begging to be filled by him. you hummed as one of your hands made its way down your stomach and in between your legs, your back slightly arching with a soft moan as your fingers bumped your clit. you were soaking wet. spencer moaned as well, fighting his restrains. “hmmm, spencer…” you sighed, touching yourself in front of his hungry eyes, he whined, in need to put his hands on you. “you see this baby? if only you’d been good… you could be fucking me right now…” he whimpered, his hips bucking up in the air in need of relieve.
“please… please, let me touch you, please…” he begged. “i’ll be good, i promise…” you sank two of your fingers inside of your pussy, gasping at the stretch and letting out a moan at the feeling as you started to slowly thrust them in and out. “please baby, please… i need you, i need to touch you…” he pleaded but you ignored him, continuing to touch and pleasure yourself in between gasps and moans. he whined, swallowing harshly, the sound and sight of you was enough to make him about to blow his load. he grunted as he fought with the handcuffs, his cock throbbing in need to be deep inside your cunt.
your fingers curled and your back arched. “fuck, spence…!” he was sure you were moaning his name just to rile him up. and it was working. his wrists were bruised by now, the same color of the hickeys on his neck and chest that you had branded.
“please…” he was desperate now. “please baby, please…”
“spence, i’m gonna cum…!” you gasped, speeding up the curling of your fingers. he whined, it was as if you were touching him, his cock throbbing against his stomach, now with a pool of precum decorating it. he was so close to his own orgasm it scared him. he was not the most experienced, but he had never come untouched, and it was astonishing, ‘cause he was about to do it just by watching you. and it felt so good…
he groaned when he saw it, the way your back arched, the way your mouth hung in a scream and the way creamy white cum coated your fingers and dribbled down onto the mattress, staining the sheets.
he moaned out your name in heavy pants. “i can’t… i can’t.” he babbled. “i can’t hold it…!” he moaned, his hips grinding against the air once, twice, thrice before he was cumming all over himself. untouched. like a fucking teenager.
holy fuck. spencer had come untouched. the thought of it was enough to drive you inane.
“mmph!!!” he moaned once again at the feeling of your tongue on his dick, licking him and his skin clean of his cum. “f-fuck!!” his hips twitched up, and a broken whimper ripped his throat when you straddled him, your soaked cunt against his still sensitive —and hardening— dick. “what are you-oh my god…!” he babbled, his back arching when in a quick succession of movements, you took him, aligned him with your entrance and sat down on him down to the hilt.
“you wasted that pretty load, pretty boy…” you moaned as you started to dirtily ride him, hips and jumps on his cock desperate. you didn’t even wait for the burning of the stretch to subside. “but that’s okay, ‘cause you’re gonna give me another one, huh? gonna cum for me and fill my pussy up just like you wanted.” he whimpered, his body shaking in overstimulation, his hazel puppy eyes welling with tears. “isn’t this what you wanted, baby? what you were begging for?” you sped up and he moaned.
“i can’t, oh god, i can’t…” but he still somehow found himself thrusting up against you in need for more.
“your body doesn’t say the same thing, baby.” you chuckled, amazed by the beautiful reactions he was giving you. “you’re so hard already… and you just came.” you hummed as you bounced on his cock, the tip kissing your cervix with every jump. he moaned, his glasses slightly fogged and crooked, his hair messy and with some strands glued in sweat against his temple and his lips swollen from all the biting. “so pretty… god and you fuck me so good baby, fill me so good…” he whined, gone under the thought of you using him like some toy to get off. he wasn’t even fighting to get off the handcuffs anymore, he was just taking it, and letting you take anything you wanted from him. “being so good for me, spence…” he keened under the praise, his dick twitching in between your walls due to your speeding movements. he wasn’t gonna last. and you knew it.
“i’m-i’m gonna cum…” he moaned, panting, his eyes squeezing shut. “i need to cum… please, please can i cum?” “can i come inside? please let me cum inside, please…” he was begging, and you moaned, feeling your own high approaching, every thrust of his hips up against yours pressing against that perfect spot in between your gummy walls.
“yes, yes, cum inside me baby, fill me up.” you whimpered behind him, your mouth gaping when you felt it, his sticky warm load painting your walls as you kept bouncing on him. “oh my god…”
“fuck, ah, fuckfuckfuck!” he moaned and babbled as he felt you reaching your own high, squeezing and milking him dry.
you two moved against each other to ride out your orgasms, leaving a mess out of the sheets and his cock, now drenched in both your juices.
the two of you were panting as you stilled, his softening dick still inside you as you rested your hands on his chest.
“lesson learned?” you questioned and he gulped, nodding, out of air.
“lesson learned.” “…” “can you uncuff me now?”
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bratty spencer💚
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storieswithvenus · 2 months
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Babygirl - Tyler Owens x Fem!Storm Chaser!Preg Reader
°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・ 𝘷𝘦𝘯𝘶𝘴 𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘢𝘬𝘴
hey! i felt in the mood to write something somewhat wholesome so here we are! i’m really sorry if this doesn’t make sense x
Word count; 1096
.*・。゚☆゚.*・。゚
Growing up you had always wanted to chase storms, after experiencing your first tornado at the age of 7 with your mum the second month of you living in tornado alley.
Living in England before that you had never been exposed to the world of storms and what dangers come with it. As you grew up you watched many different storms and the havoc they caused. your senior year at school you had been out on lockdown due to an EF4 heading straight to your high school, that’s when you met Lillie.
You and Lillie have been the only two out of a group of 40 teenagers taking shelter in the hallway that wasn’t scared, frankly - you two were always ordered to put your head down in case the tornado hit because you two were trying to get a glimpse of the storm.
You two quickly became friends after that day, finding comfort in someone else who loved storms just as much as the other. while Lillie heading to college to get a degree in technology which you two could use to get close-ups of future storms - you went into meteorology. That's where you met your now husband and the tornado wrangler, Tyler Owens.
Tyler has caught your attention from the first time you walked into that lecture hall. His tall and muscular frame, dirty blonde hair, and green eyes caught the attention of all the girls in the class, many even tried their shot with him but were turned down and never showed their faces in that class again. Tyler quickly became the face of the class, everyone wanted to be him or be with him. which is why you were shocked when he asked you to be his partner for a project.
During that project you and him grew closer, you two learned about each other and what they could bring to the table in an actual storm-chasing group. At the time, it was a dream, the two of you were going into your last year. The thought of being in a team chasing storms all over was something you would have only dreamed about, because it couldn’t be a reality… or could it?
You and Tyler had graduated top of your class, and this led to getting the attention of many different investors who would’ve loved to work with the pair of you and build an empire. However, you and Tyler wanted to create this dream by yourselves.
You two worked endless jobs, bouncing from city to city to save up for starting this team. You were lucky that Lillie immediately nominated herself to join the group when you first brought the idea up to her when you two were studying together for a final. Along with Tyler's good friend Boone who wanted to be his right-hand man, along with the person getting all the good footage for the viewers.
After many years of working your absolute hardest and saving up all the money you could, you were able to buy your equipment. At first, you were live streaming to nobody, it was obvious the team was slightly disheartened by this and after months of nobody viewing the streams - you had all actually spoken of leaving the group and going separate ways. That was until one livestream someone joined, and coincidentally that’s when you got the first-ever footage of Tyler and Boone driving into a tornado and sitting through it.
In hours the clip blew up all over social media, and thousands upon thousands of people were tuning into the channel and subscribing. the next time you streamed the view count was at 16k. After a time, the team expanded adding in the valuable members Dexter and Dani, viewers, and sponsors pooling into the channel and eventually, you and Tyler confirmed your relationship.
ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚
Bringing you to now, 4 months pregnant and barely showing. After telling Tyler the news of the pregnancy, he never left your side. Always getting anything you needed even if he had to drive hours for it and miss several big storms. For a while he let you join in the back of the jeep when he and Boone were driving into a tornado, now that you were pregnant however - you had to be miles away so he knew you and your baby were safe.
“Dani, this is the biggest storm of the season and he is planning on driving into it?” your voice was full of concern as you, her, and Dexter all watched the live stream on her laptop from the campervan. Watching the father of your baby drive head-on into a storm really made you anxious. You knew he knew what he was doing, but what if something went wrong?
Grabbing the walker from the front of the dashboard, “Ty? Can you hear me? Please stay safe, our baby needs her daddy home." Dexter and Dani's heads quickly turn to you, mouths dropped as they realize what you just said. Paying no attention to them you watched as the message went through to Tyler on the livestream, and watching his reaction was the best thing.
From when you first told him about the baby he said it would be a baby girl, and that he would be the ‘world's best girl dad’. So, when he heard the sex of your baby on the walkie-talkie, you watched as he and Boone went absolutely mental. You swear the jeep nearly tipped over from the amount of jumping and punching the roof of the car there was, Dani even had to lower the volume due to all of their screaming.
You didn’t have time to join in on the excitement before the tornado hit them head-on, leaning forward in your seat with anxiety, picking at the skin on your fingers as you watched two of the most important people in your life get shaken around while being struck inside a tornado. It felt like hours they were stuck in that position, not being able to move due to them having to be drilled into the ground beneath the car.
When the storm finally passed, you all had let out a sigh of relief. even after years of doing this - you still didn’t know when today was going to be the day it didn’t work and something bad happened to one of you.
As tyler started up the jeep again to drive away and join the rest of you back at the meeting point, he turns up to the camera facing him and points,
“That’s for you babygirl.”
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luminiamore · 4 months
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NEEDY.
brought back to life toji x black reader
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warnings: cheating but he offs ur bf so not really?, angst in the beginning, we raised megs with toji, depression in the beginning, this is kinda sad but really cute, no prep just straight sex, reader has locs but it could be whateva u want, overstimulation, soft sex, soft toji, SPOILERS if u haven’t watched the anime.
masterlist
Twelve years.
It’s been that long. Twelve long, agonizing years have passed since you’ve seen Toji. He disappeared on you. Gone. Vanished. One day, he woke you up from a nap and told you he would be gone for a week or so for a job. You understood that his line of work is dangerous. You knew there was a possibility that he could die at any moment.
But he told you not to worry. They were kids, he said.
‘You know me, mama. I don’t die easily.’
He’s a sorcerer killer. He’s strong. It was always apparent to you that he could manage himself. Of course, that never stopped you from worrying.
You began to feel anxious after three weeks. During dinner time, you would cook him meals and fall asleep, hoping that he would come to you stumbling and embrace your body whole as he usually does.
After four weeks, you began to sleep less. The silence in your apartment would haunt you. The sound of every footstep passing by your wooden door and every creak on the floor would make you jump. Imagining that, finally, it would be him who would walk through it. He never did.
After the fifth week, you started calling his boss and friend, but he would never say it out loud. Each time it went to voicemail, you would cry uncontrollably. You may have sent him over one thousand messages, but they all went unanswered. The man probably blocked your number.
You honestly didn’t know what you expected.
Toji tried to keep Shiu and you apart as much as he could. You two were never close. The only thing you had Shiu’s number for was safety purposes, in case you were ever in danger while he was away on the job.
The truth took you five months to accept. To accept that Toji was never going to come back. It took you another three months to come to terms with the fact that Toji was dead.
Throughout all of this, Megumi, his son, gave you comfort. Though it was supposed to be the other way around, you had a feeling he knew what was wrong with you. At times, you couldn’t even get up to cook food and instead chose to order out so he could eat while you lay starving. At the tender age of four, Megumi was skilled in making homemade soup due to your frequent illnesses.
After a year or so, you thought -- you barely left your bed, so you lost track of time, a man came knocking at your door. White hair and bright, bright blue eyes can be seen even with glasses covering his eyes.
You should have fought him, beaten him to a fucking pulp. You’ve always had a keen sense of intuition. You knew he was the one who killed Toji, your Toji. Your gut was screaming that to you.
But what would you be able to do? You had no cursed energy. You couldn’t fight this man even though your husband had taught you some things in his free time. You had no chance against him, and the cocky bastard was aware of that.
He wasn’t here for you anyway. It was obvious to you that when he pushed past you and entered your home, he immediately started to search for Megumi. Knowing that the little boy could see curses, he suspected that his technique was starting to manifest, so he informed him that he could provide assistance.
Hearing the conversation in the kitchen, your breath paused when he mentioned that he would be going to Tokyo. You would be alone, but you refuse to be selfish and force him to watch over you in your depressed state. You urged him to go, urged him to make a change in the world even if it physically pained you.
Megumi made a promise to visit you every year and never leave you. He was truthful to you. Every year, he would spend a week with you, and you would see the boy you helped raise become a capable young man. He would occasionally show you his technique to demonstrate how much he has grown. You couldn’t have been more proud.
It took you 8 years, but you eventually moved on from Toji physically. Your heart still belongs to him emotionally.
Although you never remarried, you did have a boyfriend. He’s a kind man, has a regular corporate job, earns a livable yearly salary, and is not a killer, so there’s no danger of him being murdered. He also treats you nicely, arranging a dinner date every week and a vacation to a nice place every year.
You should’ve been happy. You should love him— why don’t you?
Why is it that every time he fucks you, all you see and think of is Toji? When you respond to his love for you, it leaves a bitter taste in your mouth. Because you know it’s not true. You know it would never be true.
Megumi has a liking for him and believes he is a good fit for you. After what you went through, it’s fair to say that you deserve this. Though, it’s easy for him to sense how unhappy you are, that you’re putting on a facade in front of the man you’re supposed to love. If the man really knew you, he would understand that every time you smile and kiss him, it was an effort, especially after being together for almost 3 years.
You’re not sure why you never left him. You think this is better than feeling alone. Even if it wasn’t as good as Toji, you still got fucked every other night. It could never be better than Toji. You think he’s ruined you for anyone else.
October 31st, 2018. 11 a.m.
It’s Wednesday, October 31st, and it’s the week Megumi is supposed to come to see you.
You begin your day as you usually do. Your boyfriend wakes you up with a kiss right before he leaves for work, and you groggily force your body straight to the shower. While the eggs sizzle, you make a light breakfast as you stare into space.
As you’re eating, you feel your stomach drop. There is an odd sensation in your gut, a negative one. You experienced the same feeling when Toji died. You hastily pull out your phone and dial Megumi’s number.
One ring. Two. Three rings and no response.
“..Mom?”
His tone is fatigued as if you had woken him from his sleep. At that, you breathe a sigh of relief. However, the feeling persists.
“Are you okay, Megs?”
He sounds confused, although you suspect he can sense your concern in your voice, “Yeah. Why wouldn’t I be? Is something wrong?”
“Do you have a mission today?”
Your frantic questioning without an answer is now causing him anxiety.
“There’s something going on in Shibuya tonight, so yeah.” You don’t answer him for a beat, just breathing as you feel your heart beating faster as his response.
“Are you okay, mo-”
“Please, don’t go. I have a bad feeling again.”
He sighs, “You know I can’t do that. It’s supposed to be something manageable, nothing too ba-”
You sternly cut him off, “Megumi. It’s not going to be manageable, I can feel it.”
“If you’re saying that, then it means I need to go and help even more, Mom.”
You’re trembling, and- Are you crying? You feel the tear slide down your cheek before you can even register it. You have always been afraid of Megumi going out to fight curses, but for some reason, your fear is growing stronger.
Your breath stutters, “What if- what if you-”
The thought of Megumi getting badly injured or even dying is so terrifying that you can’t even finish your sentence. You don’t believe you can endure that. No, you know you can’t. You’re still grieving over your husband. How could you possibly stomach his death?
This time, he cuts you off, “I can’t promise you that I won’t go. But I can promise to stay at a safe distance so I don’t die.”
“You’re so selfless, it’s infuriating.” You chuckle through your tears, using your unoccupied hand to wipe them off.
“I love you too.” You can tell he’s trying to stifle a laugh of his own.
You smile, even though he can’t see you, “I love you so much. Please, don’t die.”
“I’ll make sure to haunt you if I do.”
A gasp, “Megumi!”
“Joking.. sort of.”
He hangs up with another ‘Love you’ before you can scold him. And now you’re forced to swallow the lump in your throat. It’s okay, you remind yourself. You’re gonna be okay. Megumi is gonna be fine. He’ll come see you on Friday like he usually does. But even you’re aware that you’re just trying to console yourself.
The day is spent trying to distract yourself. You had the time to paint your nails and toes, try on some new outfits that you bought last week, and even try reading a book. But the feeling would never go away. In fact, it intensified as the darkness outside increased.
October 31st, 2018. 11 p.m.
Around 11 p.m., your boyfriend arrived and greeted you with his usual kiss on the cheek and casual discussion about both of your days. Every day, you think, today is the day. Today is the day you’ll get a tingling feeling whenever he kisses you. Today is the day you’ll feel warmth whenever he says he missed you or he loved you.
But it never came, and today was no different. You had made some food and decided to leave some for him, he had taken a liking to your cooking.
“I’m gonna head to bed. You’re gonna join me?”
“In a few, I wanna stay up a little longer.” You whisper, absentmindedly watching the plate he’s eating from. You don’t even notice. You’re entirely zoned out.
He kisses the side of your head when he stands up.
He kisses the side of your head when he stands up, “Okay, thanks for the food, babe. Let’s go out to eat tomorrow, yeah?”
“Sure.”
He pulls back hesitantly, hands still on your shoulder as he observes the lost look in your eyes, “Are you okay, babe? You seem.. out of it.”
All he gets is a slow nod and a small kiss on his knuckles. That seems to be enough for him because he hums and whispers a small “Love you.” and walks away.
The sound of the shower running after a few minutes is your cue to clean up. As you scrub the burnt parts of the pasta you made, you hear your phone ringing. When you glance over, it turns out to be Megumi.
11:38 p.m.
‘why the fuck is Dad alive? he just disappeared after helping me with some curse??’
Your hands become completely limp as the plate you are holding drops abruptly and crashes into the wet sink. Your eyes were wide and unblinking as you stood frozen. Your breath is caught in your throat, making it impossible to exhale. Your mind is overflowing with thoughts, each one more anxious than the last.
What?
You haven’t moved a single inch, but your hands are now shaking.
Toji is what?
No. He’s lying. But that’s not true either. Megumi would never deceive you, especially about his dad being alive. Your hands are trembling as you try to reach for your phone, but you’re stopped in your tracks by a loud crash.
You come out of your frozen state, and as if you’re running on autopilot, you run as fast as you can to the sound that hits the cold tile floor. But what you see next almost causes you to burst into tears because there he is, your husband.
Toji is right there, in your room, holding a sharp red wooden blade against your boyfriend’s neck. He’s in a gray sweater, but even then, you can see his muscles and just how big he is through it. He’s not looking at you, but with the way his shoulders raise and his breath hitches— he knows you’re watching.
Hearing him speak brings a tear to your cheek. It’s been a long time since you last heard his voice. The world seemed to stop moving, leaving you in a surreal moment stuck in time. You can’t believe it, you’ve lost all hope, but he is here. Sending the ugliest glare to the man on the other side of the blade in your bedroom is enough to make you shiver,
“Who the hell is this, baby?”
You say nothing, relishing in the sound of him speaking to you. Your heart pounded fiercely, echoing in your ears, while a wave of dizziness threatened to overwhelm you.
It’s when your boyfriend grunts in an angry tone, “What the fuck is happening, (❤︎)?!” You finally snap out of your stupor.
It’s not a surprise you stutter when you speak, but you don’t even say much. You pitifully let out a squeak of,
“T-Toji?”
You want him to look at you, want him to see you. You want to make sure that it’s really him you’re looking at, but he seems so focused and upset? Your eyes move away from his face briefly to take a glance at the weapon threatening to penetrate your boyfriend’s neck.
You speak so lowly, almost as if you’re ashamed to admit your following words, “My boyfriend. He’s my boyfriend.”
Despite boarding on the brink of death, he still manages to harbor a false confidence when you say that, “Exactly, man, so, who the fuck are you?”
“Her husband.”
At that, your boyfriend chokes, and now his anger is directed towards you, “Husband? You’re married?! We’ve been together for 3 years, and you-”
“He was dead!” You suddenly find your voice, a bit hysterically. You turn to Toji, who still isn’t looking at you but presses harder into his neck. You can see a trickle of blood start to drip. “You were dead- You are dead.”
His response is cold, blunt, “I’m about to kill the bastard standing half naked in my wife’s house, so, no. I’m very much alive, mama.”
“How? How are you alive?”
“Long story.” Is all he utters.
“I’ve waited 12 fucking years, I’m sure you can spare me a little more time.”
At that, he has the audacity to sigh as if you’re the one being difficult. You jump back and yelp when he suddenly plunges the weapon into your boyfriend- ex’s neck. You open your mouth, about to ask him what the hell that was for, but he answers before you can, “Unwanted company.”
When he finally turns his head to look at you, you swear he’s more beautiful than you remember. Everything looks the same, but something’s off. His eyes were blackish, or maybe it was a deep purple color in his sclera— that was supposed to be white, wasn’t it? His pupils are purple, too, or was it blue? You’re not sure, but you don’t find him any less beautiful.
“Toji.. I- how?”
He grumbles, and in one blink, he’s in front of you, hands on your waist and lips immediately logged deep in your neck, not quite sucking but just breathing you in. The action makes you shiver, and the feeling of him so close to you causes more tears to fall. “Some old hag did a seance. Wanted me to kill all sorcerers.”
Your breath hitches, but you sternly reply, “Our son is a sorcerer.”
“Obviously, I’m not going to.”
He smiles at the fact that you said ‘Our.’ He can feel the tears on your neck, and he honestly feels he might drop some of his own. Twelve years in hell—because let’s be real, there was no way someone of his caliber was making it to heaven— and he hasn’t seen you. Hasn’t touched you. He’d rather kill you than not fuck you again- he’d have to force himself to do so.
He’s not ashamed to admit he missed you. He feels guilty for putting you through this, through twelve years with him. He said he was coming back, he couldn’t imagine your despair when he didn’t. He hates himself for causing you that pain, for pushing you into the arms of another man.
He muffled out, “D’ya love him?”
It takes you a minute to answer, you feel a bit ashamed to admit this since he just died, “Never did. I only ever loved you.”
“Loved? You don’t love me anymore?”
You break out another sob, “I never stopped Toji.”
This time, he doesn’t answer, but there’s a nagging question in the back of his mind that he needs answered, “Three years, hm? You fuck him?” Your next words give him the answer he needs.
“Toji- it’s been years! You were-”
“Dead, I know. You didn’t look too sad when he died. He could never fuck you like me, huh?”
He knows he shouldn’t be upset. He knows he has no right to be angry at you. You had every right to move on. He didn’t ghost you or just disappear casually. He was dead. The thought never sat well with him, though. It made his stomach churn. He always told you that if you ever cheated on him, he would kill the man and then himself. He could never bring himself to hurt you physically.
But is it even cheating if he was dead?
A whisper breaks him out of his thoughts, “No.”
What an angel you are. Answering him even when he isn’t even speaking out loud. His mind is confused. So he does what he used to do when he needs to let out his frustrations— use your body as a stress reliever.
When his hands grope your hips, you let out a desperate moan. Fuck you are desperate, you haven’t felt your lover in years.
“Damn- I missed you, baby. Missed how soft you are, missed holding you.” His tongue starts slowly, lapping softly at your collarbone.
Your breath starts getting shaky, and the slick that’s been forming since you first laid eyes on him is dripping down your thighs, “Missed you so much more.”
He’s not in the mood to wait. He’d usually tease you before he impaled you on his dick. But it’s been too long since he felt any warmth from you- he’s not stalling any longer.
“Need to fuck you, now. You remember how to take me, right?”
He was quick with his hands, ripping the nightgown you had on to shreds. You’re bare in front of his gaze, and you can see how he was practically drooling— the man was in a trance.
If Toji is as big as you remember, then taking him would be a challenge. You could never do it without some form of prep, be it him eating you out until you cried or fingering you till your legs trembled. Sometimes it was both. But you could tell he wasn’t in the mood to do either of those right now. He just wanted to stuff you, so you’d have to suck it up and let him.
You give him a shaky nod, “Yes, please.”
He lazily rubs on your engorged bud, spreading your slick all over your fat pussy lips. He releases the most toe-curling moan when he feels how wet you are, and it’s all for him. He doesn’t keep the act up for long and dips two fingers inside. They stretch you so wide you can’t help but buck your hips against the wall he has you pressed on.
“Hnng- Toji! Just put it in, p-please.”
He grunts, but he can never argue against you. Toji forces his tip past your tight walls, and you have to hiss it out. You’re wet enough that the first inch slides in easily, but you’re so tight that he thinks you’re about to squeeze his tip right off.
He groans out, seemingly more out of breath than you are, “Relax, mama. Breathe before you break my dick off.”
“M’trying!” Is your only response. More tears are dripping down your face, both from the pain and how close you are to him.
Toji decides to distract you by rubbing tight circles on your clit, and that causes your breath to stutter and your moans to increase in volume. That does the trick because as you’re focused on the pleasure, he doesn’t hesitate to shove everything into you in one go. All nine inches- but shit, you swear it feels bigger.
“Oh god! It’s too much- I can’t-”
“God took me away from you. Made us spend twelve years apart. It’s not God making you feel this way, it’s me. Focus on me.”
You’re nodding before he can even finish his sentence because he’s right. Toji gives you a few seconds- maybe 30 before his patience runs around, and he starts slowly rutting in you. He knows how big he is. Takes pride in it, too. So, he doesn’t stop rubbing your clit to ease the feeling of him stretching you out.
As he instructs, all your focus is on him. Your hazy eyes focus on his face, his brows furrowed in pleasure, and his lips parted as he pants against you. You can’t help but kiss him, suck his chapped pink lips so hard you can feel his scar against your tongue. And he doesn’t hesitate to kiss you back. It isn’t a fight for dominance, Toji easily takes all control of you, and you surrender with no regrets.
You take his cock beautifully, so well. Every time he pushes out, your pussy just pulls him back in, making a wet squelch sound when his hips slap against yours. He can feel the goosebumps on your body whenever his tip presses harshly on your g-spot, and so he keeps the same pace and stroke— determined to make you cum just like this.
You wail out as your eyes roll into the back of your head, “Oh! Right there, don’t s-stop!”
“Never. Won’t ever stop fucking you, baby. Need you to forgive me anyway.”
“For l-leaving me?”
He chuckles against your puffy lips and pulls harshly on your brown locs so your neck cranes to look directly at him, “Yes, mama. I’m sorry for leaving you, for leaving our son. So sorry. Won’t ever do it again, I promise.”
You’re crying again. Tears are flowing freely now, and Toji thinks you’re beautiful and even ethereal. He glances down, and a creamy white paste forms at the base of his cock- getting even more wet each time he pulls out of you.
“I c-cried so much, Toji. For months, for years. You- you-”
“Shh. I know, baby. I know. I’m selfish for doing that, a complete asshole. I’d hate me too.”
You’re nodding, but you could never think of him as such. You would never call Toji anything mean, anything harsh- despite what he put you through.
Your pussy is twitching against him, “Don’t hate you. Could never h-hate you.”
He kisses your lips, all over your face, really, “Yeah? Damn, I love you. You love me?”
“Yes! Yes- I love you. Only you.”
He moans and presses against your stomach, his bulge poking out. Your breaths come in ragged gasps, your body tightening as a wave of pleasure builds inside of you. Your muscles clenched, and an uncontainable rush surged through you. Fuck, you’re gonna come.
Toji can feel it, and his slow pace speeds up. He whispers in your ear, pulling at your lobe, “Cum, baby. Go ahead, I need it.”
Finally, with a shuddering cry, you tipped over the edge. Ecstasy washed over you in powerful, pulsing waves. Your body trembled a blissful release, leaving you breathless and utterly spent. Despite your haze, Toji doesn’t stop, nor do you feel his thick cum flowing past your walls.
He can sense the confusion in you, and all he does to ease your mind is, “3 years, right? How about 3 orgasms for every year I wasn’t with you, huh? Think we can reach 36, mama?”
Your eyes widen in disbelief because that doesn’t even sound possible, but you’re distracted by another toe-curling orgasm ripping through you- your clit pulsing in overstimulation. As always, he knows what you’re thinking, but he doesn’t seem to be backing down with his next words.
“Yeah, I think we can.”
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emswritingsstuff · 3 months
Text
Home at Last (Daryl Dixon x Fem! Reader)
another request from @caseylicious !! i love your daryl ideas so much!! hope you enjoy!! 🫶🫶
Summary: After being left on the roof with Merle, you're separated from Daryl.
WC: 2.7k
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“Merle was a danger to himself and everyone else, your husband did the right thing.” Andrea looked over at Lori, she just looked up at Rick and nodded, still looking unsure about the whole situation. “What about (Y/N)? I mean she definitely doesn’t deserve to be left with him.” Dale inquired. Glenn shook his head and held it in his hands, just dreading the conversation they were going to have with Daryl. “It's not our fault she wanted to stay; she wasn’t listening to us. What more could we have done,” Rick said matter of factly. Head nods and sighs were a sign of mutual agreement with Rick. They all knew you, but they also knew Daryl. 
It was clear to everyone that you and the Dixons were a package deal. Daryl and you were together for a while before everything had started. Making Merle practically your brother at that point, meaning you weren’t just going to sit around and let a random cop handcuff him. You did agree Merle was out of line but keeping him tied down the roof was not the move. Determined to make them let him go, you stayed with him. Without a second thought too. But that plan failed, as they did actually leave you. Ironically, without a second thought. But they all knew once the news got to Daryl, Hell would certainly break loose within the camp. 
The morning sun casted over the camp, everyone doing the daily routine with their chores. Shane had just brought in the water when screams were heard, the children screamed. Everyone ran to action seeing a walker had made its way onto the camp, eating a deer with a bunch of arrows in it. After disabling the walker, rustling was heard in the bushes, all of them breathing in sighs of relief when it was revealed to be Daryl. But the sighs of relief turned into stressful breathing when they realized what they were about to have to explain to him. 
Daryl was ranting on about the loss of venison, shooting the brain, and whatever else as he marched his way back into the camp. Everyone was keeping their distance from him, not wanting to get too close in case he exploded. Daryl had started yelling for you and Merle, completely unaware of what he was about to find out. 
“Daryl, I need to talk to you about them,” Shane spoke. Daryl looked at Shane with a questionable look, not so sure about what Shane was about to tell him. “Something happened on the run-” 
“They dead?” Daryl looked more tense now, ready to take his anger out on whoever got you both killed. The more Shane and Rick spoke, the more angry Daryl grew. FInding out they had stupidly left you both there threw him off the tiny edge he was standing on. 
“Lemme process this, ya handcuffed my brother to a roof? And left him and my girl there?” The anger was obvious, he was pacing around Rick. Nothing could be said in that moment to make him feel better. 
“If it makes anything better, I chained the door shut so geeks couldn’t get them,” point proven right there. Right as Daryl went to throw a punch, Shane put him in a headlock, pinning him to the ground. “Chokeholds illegal,” he mumbled as he caught his breath still in the group. Rick crouched down to Daryl’s level and told him how it is. That it just had to happen in order for the group to be saved, but he wasn’t buying it. 
Just like how they knew how much he meant to you, they knew how much you meant to him. You were the rational part of him, the part of him that kept him level headed, the part of him they all missed right now. But it was their fault you were gone, at least to him. He had started to break down, just enough to where it was noticeable. 
Rick had made the plan to go out with Daryl and Glenn to retrieve you and Merle, but also the guns. T-Dog soon made the choice to tag along as well. Though, Daryl knew everyone just wanted the guns and could give less of shit about the people he cared about. A nervous gut feeling hit Daryl, he didn’t want to show it, but he was scared shitless. If neither of you were there, he didn’t know what he would do. 
Daryl was getting antsy with Rick and T-Dog taking their sweet ass time getting into the truck. He was pacing again, nervous habit, just needed to see you were okay. Merle could defend himself, he knew that. You could as well, he taught you to, but he couldn’t let go of you no matter what. His leg was bouncing like crazy, the eventual drive feeling like it was taking forever. T-Dog looked at Daryl, just watching him. The tension was high, and he wanted to try and ease the air. 
“So, you and (Y/N), how’d that happen,” Daryl shot him a glare. T-Dog looked away, regretting what he had said instantly. Bringing his rag to his face, Daryl wiped it off and proceeded to speak. “None of yer business, just needa know you messed up leavin’ her there,” Daryl's eyes darted down at his hands not even wanting to engage in anymore conversations. 
Once finally getting to the department store, Daryl hauled his ass through it. Getting to the roof faster than everybody else. Getting the door open, the bright light threw him off. As soon as his eyes adjusted, he was devastated. It was empty.
Blood was all over the floor, Merle’s hand was on the ground and both of you were nowhere to be seen. The only thing of yours left behind being a necklace, intentionally placed where it would be seen. It was a sign that you were alive, but also a sign you were gone. Like you wanted to leave something of you for him. He lost you, he fucking lost you. 
Ever since that day on the rooftop, he swore to himself that he would look for you. No matter what, he looked. Tracking anything he could, any sign of you, just anything. The group had tried to convince him you were gone, to make him stop risking himself out there. Which never worked, he didn’t believe for a second you were dead. When on the road after the farm, he still looked. Going into the woods constantly, claiming to hunt, but in reality just putting up a front so he wouldn’t get chewed out for still looking for you. 
Daryl didn’t want to admit it. He really didn’t want to admit it, but he was starting to lose faith in ever finding you again. As the days went on, the tracks were growing cold. The faith he had rapidly dying with it. “She’ll turn up, she’s like you,” looking beside him, Glenn had snuck up on him. He didn’t blame Glenn for the rooftop, Hell, he couldn’t blame anyone for it. Daryl just shook his head and put it down. Glenn spoke up again, just trying to make him feel better. 
“She’s stubborn, should’ve seen her that day. Thought she was going to kill Rick herself for Merle.” Glenn giggled to himself, Daryl just huffing. Not an angry huff though, it was something more lighthearted. The idea of you defending Merle was amusing. “Her ass was probably more pissed at Merle than anythin’” Daryl had gotten used to thinking back on memories with you. Merle and you had never gotten along, ironically it's what he liked about you. Never scared to put him in his place. In return, Merle gave Daryl his approval about you, which was really unneeded in Daryl’s opinion. 
Unfortunately for him, once the group got to the prison so much was happening that he didn’t have time to look. He felt horrible about it, surely feeling like the biggest piece of shit to walk the earth. Everything that had happened became a blur, trying to keep the prison up, the multiple losses, the birth of Judith, just so much going on he could barely keep track. The thing that brought him back to reality was the ambush on Woodbury, and the reunion with his brother. 
But still no you, still nothing. He had to hold back the tears the minute he found out Merle hadn’t seen you in ages. Apparently you had run off when you Merle got with the Governor. When the brothers branched off from the main group, Daryl was silent. Part of him was mad at Merle for letting you go, but the other part was dealing with the fact you were gone. Probably for good. 
Walking through the woods, Merle was talking his ass off. Just saying shit and Daryl couldn’t care to listen to any of it. “Lighten’ up brother! The Dixons are back!” He roughly pat Daryl on the back. Daryl was quick to grumble and shrug off Merle's sorry attempt at making a joke. “Now, what's wrong Darlina? Gotten soft?” Daryl stopped and let Merle keep on walking. It took a minute for Merle to realize he stopped, which made him stop too and look back at his brother. 
“Why’d ya let her go.” Daryl's words were harsh but quiet. Just enough to wipe the smirk off Merle’s face. Stepping up to Daryl, Merle was trying to intimidate him. But Daryl wasn’t going to budge, he was never going to let himself do that. Not with Merle. “I didn’t let her go, the bitch got scared. Didn’t trust the Governor, chose to fend for herself. Like the dumbass she is,” Merle was quickly cut off with a swift punch in his face. Getting knocked on his ass by Daryl. 
He crouched down to Merle’s level and got in his face. “Speak about ‘er like tha’ again, I’ll kill ya next time.” Daryl jerked forward to imitate a punch which caused Merle to flinch. Scoffing, Daryl moved forward through the woods. Just those few interactions made him realize staying with Merle was a mistake, he needed to get back to the family that cared about him and that he cared about. 
It had felt like ages since they had seen anything other than the woods, when it was actually a few hours. When Daryl had spotted a small shed, he was grateful. Maybe there was something in there that could be useful. Daryl whistled to get Merle’s attention and make him see what he saw. Inching closer and closer to the shed door, crossbow at the ready but no finger on the trigger. If something was in there he could act quickly, but he didn’t want to be irrational. 
Throwing open the door, there was nothing there. Putting down the bow, he breathed a sigh of relief and looked some more. There were signs of life but nothing that alarmed him. Water bottles were scattered around, some still filled. Jackpot. Snatching them up Daryl put them with their other belongings. If the person living there showed up, he’d give them back no problem. But finders keepers for now. 
The brothers decided mutually that they were going to camp for the night in that spot, just creating a small campfire outside the shed before turning in. The night dragged on, heavy tension filled air filled the brothers atmosphere. Merle had walked off to look for “food”, leaving Daryl by himself. Just him and his thoughts. He had found himself sitting around the fire just staring at it. The memories came flooding back to him, he just missed you so much. He hates himself for not continuing to look for you. He’ll never forgive himself for giving up, but more could he really do. 
As if the universe was giving him a sign, he heard twigs snap in the distance. His head snapped in the direction of the sound, instantly on edge about the whole ordeal. Standing up slowly he equipped his crossbow but before he could raise it up, an arm wrapped around his neck bringing him down. This wasn’t a walker, this was a person. And a pretty strong one at that. 
Making quick work of getting out of the chokehold he separated himself and the attacker in question. A bandanna was wrapped around their face to cover it, they were wearing a heavy jacket with a hood up. Daryl could barely make out who this person even was, which made it all the more weird when the attacker said his name. Quietly of course, but he heard it. Trying to figure out what was happening he was lost in his thoughts. He never even saw the attacker charge at him again. 
Standing his ground he fought them off as best as he could, just trying to figure out how this person knew who he was. Pushing down harshly, the attacker fell on their back almost knocked out. Daryl took this as his moment to get rid of the disguise the attacker had on, and almost broke when he took the bandanna off. 
It was you, it was really you. He could barely believe it himself. 
Daryl stepped backwards and fell to his knees. Hurting you was something he never once wanted to do, and he just did that. He was defending himself, sure, and you attacked him. Guilt started to weigh on him, causing him to go crazy a bit. The whole situation didn’t feel real, which was a shared feeling. You weren’t in your right state of mind, he knew that. But Daryl was focused on the tears and the emotions he was feeling that he didn’t notice you get up and pounce on him again, successfully pinning him to the ground.
He was trying to explain himself, trying so hard to make you see reality. It surprised him how strong you had gotten after all this time, fighting so hard against your strength. “You’re not real. If you were, you would’ve found me sooner,” you said holding a knife up to his throat. Having him in such a bad position. Daryl acted quick and knocked the knife out of your hands and flipped you over so that he was now holding you down. His strong arm was across your chest and his legs held down yours. 
Tears streamed down his face as you thrashed against him, begging to be let go. Daryl could barely speak, hating to see you like this and him being the reason for it. “I tried, I looked everyday, I never wanted to give up. Please, it’s me.” Daryl’s head fell with his hair covering his face. A few more hits flew from you, definitely going to leave marks, but did not care. He needed you back. 
Surprisingly for him, the thrashing stopped. Just to make sure it wasn’t a fake out, he didn’t look up. But once he did look, he saw your face was softened. Moving his arm off your chest, he freed you a bit. Still weary on if you were in a better space or not. Your arm snaked up from your side where it was held down, taking the necklace Daryl had on in your hands.
“It's my necklace. It is you. You looked for me..” Your voice was breaking and soft, like the regret had set in. He had always kept the necklace tucked under his shirt so it wouldn’t get caught on anything and risk losing it, must've slipped out during the fight. Wiping his face, Daryl looked in your eyes, “Course I looked, never wanted to lose ya.” He eased up and stood up off of you, helping you up in the process. The minute you were up and stable, his strong arms were around you, this time in a loving embrace. 
Tears were falling like they never had before, the both of you just living in the moment in each other's arms. “They left me,” you silently whispered, voice breaking even more., Daryl just shushed you softly and put his hand in your hair. “I know, but now I got ya. Never leavin’ ya again.”
--
btw if anyone has s1-s2 daryl request pls, send them i love him
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zegrasdrysdale · 20 days
Note
Morning wood with EE73?? Please and thank you 🩷
[ good morning to you too ] e. edwards
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➾ paring : Ethan Edwards x fem!reader
➾ summary : friends become lovers when an awkward moment turns into a morning of passion
➾ warning(s) : smut !! morning wood, fingering, soft morning sex, unprotected p in v sex (don’t be silly, wrap your willy), nicknames during sex, a single use of “y/n”
➾ author’s note : this was supposed to be a short lil thing but then i got carried away and it’s now 90% smut and 10% plot (oops)
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Her entire body slowly wakes up from head to toe when she wakes from her light sleep. At first she feels nothing as she comes out of her sleep, then she slowly begins to feel something poking the back of her thigh. She’s very quick to realize that it’s Ethan’s dick that’s poking her. She remains very still so she doesn’t cause anything to happen. Especially since he’s already moving a little bit.
Then the worst case scenario happens. Ethan mumbles her name in his sleep. It’s her nickname that only he calls her.
She moves quickly but hopefully carefully out of bed to avoid what will be a very embarrassing moment for the both of them.
What she thought was graceful was really not. She ends up scrambling out of bed and falls to the ground. Ethan wakes up and looks over the side of the bed.
“Uh, good morning to you too?” he says, phrasing it like a question. “Why did you decide to fall out of bed?”
She stares up at him. “You have, um …” she trails off. “A problem. It poked me. I was trying to leave you to take care of it but ended up falling out of bed.” And you said my name remains unsaid.
That’s territory that she’s not sure she wants to enter. It will change everything between them if she says it. She isn’t interested in ruining the most important friendship she has.
Ethan leans back to see what she means. She watches his cheeks turn tomato red from the ground. “Oh shit,” he gasps. “I am so sorry. I didn’t- this rarely happens. It would happen when you sleep over. I-”
“You can’t control it,” she interrupts. “It’s natural. I’ll just leave and go make breakfast so you can take care of it.”
As she stands up, she realizes that between her thighs is damp and there’s a pit in the bottom of her stomach like she’s turned on. She presses her lips into a tight line and crosses one leg over the other to put some pressure on her core.
Yeah, this is super embarrassing. She can’t believe that her body is betraying her like this.
“(Y/N), come here,” he orders.
“Ethan, I-”
“Come here, Sunny,” he tries again, this time with an emphasis on her nickname.
She remembers the day he started calling her Sunny.. It was their freshman year and she was having a bad day. They met in English 101 at nine in the morning. He noticed that she wasn’t having the best day and said to her, “Well, aren’t you a ray of fucking sunshine.” She just glared at him not knowing that they were going to be the best of friends within the month.
Ethan called her ‘Sunshine’ for a few weeks until she got tired of it, so he shortened it to ‘Sunny’ right as Michigan went on winter break.
Clearly, he still uses it. It still makes her feel something. Especially now after she heard him moan her nickname in his sleep while he has morning wood.
The use of her nickname pulls her right to him. She sits with her legs crisscrossed on the side of the bed that she slept on. Her hands are folded on her lap to hide what’s probably a very obvious wet spot on the grey shorts she decided to wear to bed last night.
He sits up and lets the blankets fall to his waist. His hair is a complete mess since he’s just moving for the first time all morning. He quickly runs his hands through the mess to tame it before he turns his attention to his best friend.
“Do you trust me?” Ethan questions. She nods to answer his question. “I need you to use your words. I need to make sure that you trust me.”
“I trust you, E,” she tells him.
Ethan sighs and moves himself closer to her. He puts a hand on her knee and she sharply inhales. She looks at his hand before looking at his face. Their eyes meet and she immediately begins to relax.
This is Ethan Edwards. He wouldn’t do something if she didn’t want him to. She trusts him and he knows that.
He leans into her and claims her lips in a gentle kiss. She leans further into him and reciprocates the kiss. The pair test the waters between them as their relationship takes a turn she never thought would happen.
In the three years she’s known him, she’s wanted him. He had girlfriend after girlfriend or was hooking up with girls so she never got the chance to try anything with him. This is that chance.
The kiss deepens when Ethan brings his free hand up to cup her jaw. She allows herself to wrap one of her hands around his wrist so he doesn’t move his hand. She leans into the light touch. Her free hand slides into his hair so he doesn’t back away from her.
She finally has him and she doesn’t want to let him go. She also makes it a point not to rush anything. She lets Ethan take full control for the time being.
Her lips part and Ethan slips his tongue past them. She gasps as Ethan licks into her mouth. A soft hum follows.
His free hand drops to her waist and he pulls her closer to him. She throws one of her legs over his tights and straddles him over the blankets. She feels the bulge on her core through the covers.
Ethan lies down until he’s on his back with his head on the pillows. She follows him and her hair forms a curtain around their faces as the kiss quickens. One of Ethan’s hands pushes her hair back and she smiles into the kiss that follows. His other hand runs up and down her back slowly.
“Need you to do more, E,” she mumbles between kisses. “Please. Please.”
“You’ve never been patient, have you?” he teases. Ethan pulls back and meets her eyes. There’s a layer of lust that covers and darkens them.
“I’ve been patient enough,” she admits. “You have no idea how long I’ve waited for this to happen, Ethan.” He blinks at her. “So, I need you to stop taking this slow and do something. Anything, E.”
Almost like he’s been given permission to do anything he wants to her, which she basically has, Ethan flips them so she’s on her back and her hair forms a halo around her head on the pillows. She smiles and stares up at him.
Ethan kneels between her knees to pull off his Michigan hockey t-shirt and tosses it to the floor. She runs her hands from the waistband of his pajama pants up his chest. She traces his toned stomach and bites her lip. His hand fall to the bottom of her borrowed t-shirt and he dips his fingers underneath. She pulls the fabric up and off her body. His eyes fall to her naked upper body, and she doesn’t feel uncomfortable under his gaze. She stares up at him as a finger runs from her lips and down her body until it reaches the waistband of her shorts.
Impatiently, she lifts her hips so Ethan can slide off her shorts. He smiles and hooks his fingers in her shorts. It isn’t long before he tugs them down and leaves her completely naked beneath him. Her legs drop to the side for him.
“Fuck, Sunny,” Ethan sighs as leans down to press little kisses to her stomach. “So beautiful. All for me. All mine. You’re all mine now.”
“I’m all yours,” she breathes out. “Please, Ethan.”
“I’ve got you, pretty girl,” he assures her. “I’ll take care of you.”
She feels one of his fingers run through her slick folds. It catches her off guard and she hums. Her eyes flutter shut and she lets her sense of touch take over. She runs her fingers through his hair.
One finger turns into two, and both his fingers push into her. She gasps and curls her fingers in his hair. Ethan begins to flick his wrist and curl his fingers inside her in a ‘come here’ motion. “Oh my- fuck, Ethan,” she groans.
He kisses the inside of her upper thigh. His movements speed up slightly and she’s a shaking mess underneath his touch.
Her teeth dig into her bottom lip to stay quiet since she’s in a house full of hockey players. The last thing she or Ethan want right now is for them to be too loud and his teammates come knocking on the door or mess with him when he leaves the room. It takes everything in her to not scream his name when he adds a third finger while he continues the ‘come here’ motion.
A knot forms and immediately begins to tighten in her belly. Ethan crawls up her body so they’re face to face, but his fingers stay where they are.
“Ethan,” she pants. “E. I’m gonna cum. Fuck, I’m close.”
He withdraws his finger as soon as the last word comes out of her mouth. She frowns and looks up at him as he licks her slick off of the three fingers that were inside of her. She could cum just from that, but she does her best to wait.
“My fingers aren’t going to be the thing that makes you cum, pretty Sunny,” Ethan tells her as he kneels between her legs. “Not this time when I have been waiting years to get inside of you.”
He pushes his pajama pants and boxers off his body. Her eyes widen slightly as his dick pops out of his boxers. She knows the stories that have been floating around campus so she’s aware how big he is and she saw how big his bulge was in his pants.
She might die today. She wasn’t prepared for all those stories and rumors to be true.
Ethan settles himself between her legs and leans down to hover over her. She stares up at him and feels his tip at her entrance.
“Last chance to stop,” Ethan tells her. “Tell me know if you don’t want this, Sunny.”
“I want this,” she assures him. “I want this more than you will ever know, Ethan. I want you. I need you.”
With her full permission, Ethan slowly pushes into her. She bites her bottom lip and hums as he fills her with his cock. Her back arches off the bed at the feeling. He pushes into her until he bottoms out.
He allows her to adjust to his size before he begins to roll his hips. Ethan starts slow before slowly speeding up every few thrusts. Her hums turn into moans as Ethan moves deeper into her.
She wants this moment to be never ending. She knows that now she can have him whenever she wants and she gets to re-live this moment, but she’ll never experience this moment again. This moment when she allowed herself to be with Ethan after denying herself for the longest time. She let herself be vulnerable with the guy she trusts the most in this world.
Their friendship has officially turned into something more, and she is excited to see where it goes. She’s dreamed of this for almost a year and a half when she realized she wanted to be more than friends with him at one of the hockey celebration parties after an important win.
This is a chance of a lifetime for her. To be with the only guy that she’s wanted for the past 18 months or so. This is it.
A loud moan passes her lips as Ethan throws one of her legs over his shoulder and moves as deep as he can at the new angle. He quickly leans down and kisses her to quiet her. The kiss is feverish from the start and she hums every time Ethan thrusts his hips into her. He keeps her from getting too loud and the moan slipped by.
Her arms are wrapped around his neck and her fingers are in his hair. The bed creaks with every thrust of Ethan’s hips.
Soon, Ethan’s lips are not enough to keep her quiet. Moans bubble from her throat as he rolls his hips as fast as he can while moving as deep as he can.
“Holy fuck, E,” she gasps. “I’m close. Wanna cum so bad. Please.”
Ethan hums. “‘m close too, pretty girl,” he tells her as he pulls back from the hot kiss. “Wanna cum with you.”
She throws her head back as Ethan hits her favorite spot over and over again. The knot threatens to come undone any second and she pants the closer she gets to her pending orgasm.
Her legs shake as she holds herself off. She can feel her walls clenching around Ethan and she’s at her limit.
“Ethan!” she cries out as she cums around his dick. “Oh my God. Fuck, E.”
Her breathing becomes extremely labored and her vision goes white as she releases. She is so out of it that she doesn’t feel Ethan pull out and cum on her thighs and stomach. Her head is in the clouds and it takes her a few minutes to come down.
It can’t get any better than that, right? Then she realizes that she hasn’t gotten his tongue and realizes it could get so much better than that.
When she comes back to reality, there’s a wet cloth on her stomach and thighs. She looks down and watches as Ethan cleans up his mess. He looks up at her and smiles. “Welcome back,” he teases.
“Your fault,” she retorts.
Ethan throws the cloth in the direction of his bathroom before he crawls next to her. He throws the blankets over the two of them before he lies on his side to look at her. His head rests on his hand and he holds himself up with his elbow. She reaches up to trace his jawline.
There are footsteps outside of Ethan’s door, signaling that someone is up. Hopefully they didn’t wake whoever it is up with their morning activities.
“Why haven’t we done that before?” Ethan questions. “I mean, that was really fucking good. I might need to go another round soon.”
“Don’t you have practice soon?”
He quickly flips over to grab his phone. “Oh, shit,” he gasps at the same time a knock rings throughout the room.
“Yo, Eddy!” Luca calls through the door. “You ready to go?”
She giggles as Ethan runs frantically around the room to find something to wear to practice. He makes a point to stop and leave a lingering kiss on her lips.
“We’ll talk when I get back,” he tells her. “Don’t go anywhere, okay? Promise I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
She nods in agreement and watches Ethan run out the door. Luca’s voice carries in the hall. “I didn’t want to interrupt you but we were gonna be late,” Luca says as the two of them walk away.
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loveydovey-leviathan · 5 months
Note
can i request the Obey me brothers and/or the datables reaction to you being jealous ☺️
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mc gets jealous
obey me x gn!reader
🍉 from the river to the sea, palestine will be free 🇵🇸. this account stands with palestine, and so— i require everyone who interacts to educate themselves, and/or support/donate. READ THESE; 1 and 2, HELP HERE, BOYCOTT. | credit 🍉
a/n: the intro is so long in comparison to what i wrote for the characters lmao
cw: the gender of the person flirting with the characters is not mentioned. they don’t leave even after he’s told them to [belphie’s part]
.
The two of you have been spending less time together lately, your personal responsibilities keeping you apart longer than they usually would. But when you realised the both of you hadn’t gone on a date in weeks, you decided to surprise them with one at a popular cafe in the human world.
Once seated at a comfortable corner, you kiss them on the cheek and tell them you’ll be right back with your orders. The trip from the counter to your seats couldn’t have taken more than 4 minutes but when you walk back, there’s a stranger at your spot next to them. By their body language, it’s clear they’re trying to snatch up your obviously irritated significant other.
Maybe it’s because today was finally a free day for the two of you, combined with not seeing them as much as you would’ve liked– but when you finally arrived at your table, you set down your orders with a little more force than necessary.
With eyes as cold as a storm as you possessively inserted yourself by your lover’s side, you asked the stranger in your seat, “Do you need something from us?”
lucifer
A smug little smirk makes its way to his handsome face when the stranger decides not to start anything and walks away.
And while a part of him doesn’t even want to wait until they’re out of earshot– the same part of him that wants to kiss you senseless in front of the many suitors you have– he refrains from doing anything too rash in public.
If he was in his demon form, his wings would ruffle from how you pridefully claimed him to be your lover in front of this “threat”. Not that anyone has the potential to be one when you’re all he ever thinks about in the late hours of the night.
When you sit down next to him once more, still obviously slightly angry after the ordeal, he gently holds your hand and presses it to his lips.
Just in case it wasn’t clear to anyone else in the cafe that the two of you are together.
“There’s no need to be jealous, my dear. I’m all yours.”
mammon
He gets a little flustered when you’re at his side but he soon gets over it and pulls you closer.
“In case it wasn’t obvious, I’m taken. Now, scram.”
Unlike Lucifer, he doesn’t even wait until the person leaves before he gets up to kiss you (on the cheek, he can only handle so much PDA).
“Took ya long enough! Seemed like you were takin’ forever.” “I was gone 5 minutes, Mams.” “Same thing.”
He’s sweet. And needy– but that’s why you love him. Another kiss on the cheek and it seems like he’s already forgotten what happened.
He hasn’t obviously. He’s going to daydream about this for the next 4 months every night before he goes to sleep because it proves you’re just as greedy for him as he is for you.
He’ll tease you about it, of course. “You must really love me if that got ya jealous.” He’ll stop if you ask him too but he’s still going to be giddy about it.
leviathan
He’s so relieved once you’re here because he had no idea what to do. He doesn’t even realise that he’s leaning towards you.
It isn’t until the stranger leaves that he realises that he’s still extremely close to you while in a public cafe.
He instantly gets so embarrassed and wants to leave.
It doesn’t take you long to put the pieces together– so you take your orders to go and pull him outside the cafe and into a nearby park.
“S-Sorry… I know you really like that place.” Now he’s worried that you might hate him for getting embarrassed and potentially ruining the date for the two of you.
When you reassure him that it’s fine and that you can always go to some other place, he calms down enough and the situation completely dawns on him– you got jealous because you thought someone else wanted his affections (which he still isn’t completely sure of btw).
His face is flushed pink when he thinks about it. You love him enough to fight for him.
“What? Oh- uhm.. it’s nothing– just thinking about how cool you looked back in the cafe when you got jealous, hehe.” < is imagining scenarios in his head and totally planning on telling Henry 2.0 about this exciting development in your relationship.
satan
He was about to commit a crime right before you came along.
Usually, he would be better at keeping his anger in check but this is your first date in a while and he’s not about to have some rando ruin it for the two of you.
“Leave.” is all he says to them with a glare sharper than Asmo’s heels.
He calms down as soon as he sees you seated next to him once more.
“They’re lucky you came when you did. The absolute nerve of some people–” he shuts up once you kiss him on the cheek.
While the two of you eat your food, he realises that your actions may have been caused by a spur of jealousy. He’s quick to tease you about it.
“Was somebody jealous? Well, now you know how I feel whenever one of my brothers take you away.”
He thinks you’re so cute when you’re jealous, but he refrains from teasing too much lest you lightly make fun of him when he’s green with envy.
asmodeus
Don’t get him wrong, he absolutely loves attention– but not at the expense of the two of you spending time together.
As soon as you’re next to him, he stands up and pulls you even closer than you already were.
“Ugh, MC~ where were you? I was so bored.”
He’s acting all whiny and needy, pressing his face into the crook of your neck and completely ignoring the other person.
It’s not long before they turn red in the face and storm out of the cafe.
“Finally, they’re gone,” he complains, checking underneath his nails like he was afraid some of their filth might have latched itself to him.
“You’re adorable when you’re jealous, have I told you that?” 
He’s so quick to tease, even though he’s 100x worse when he’s jealous.
Somehow, he’s even more clingy the rest of the date. He's holding your hand, kissing your cheek, pulling you close to him the entire time– his own way of telling you and everyone else that he’s yours and you’re his.
beelzebub
He’s pretty clueless as to what’s happening and what the stranger’s intentions are– but when you come along, his passive face instantly lights up with a smile.
He is so in love with you, that you’d have to be blind to not see the way he looks at you, like your presence alone makes his heart full.
The stranger realises that they didn’t have a chance from the beginning, and Beel doesn’t even notice them leaving.
He notices that you seem angry at something, so he gently takes your hand and seats you beside him again– handing the slightly ruined food to you.
“You look angry. You should eat, it’ll make you feel better.”
He was right, it did make you feel better. Along with him happily eating all the orders you got him.
He won’t bring up the stranger unless you bring it up, but if you do, he’ll just shrug.
“Them? I don’t know, they just came up to me and sat on our table. I don’t mind when people do that but they were interrupting our date. I didn’t want to get angry and make a scene.”
belphegor
Belphie is spoiled. And he is tired.
When someone comes and sits on your seat, trying to flirt when the two of you came in together– he is instantly pissed off.
He wants nothing more than to “make” them leave, but he can’t (at least not in the way he wants to). So he just decides to be upfront instead.
“Do you mind? That seat is taken by my s/o– the one who walked in with me, in case I need to remind you.”
When they still don’t leave, he’s very seriously considering putting a curse on them.
But before he starts the incantation, you arrive in an equally bad mood.
Recognising that it’s two against one, they roll their eyes and leave, muttering something under their breath all the way.
“That was so tiring…” < (he spoke three sentences)
If you offer to go home, he refuses, saying that you both planned this already.
“I’ll try my best to stay awake but I can’t guarantee it. When we get back home, you owe me a nap.”
The sly little bitch managed to turn the whole thing in his favour.
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brooooswriting · 6 months
Note
hi!I was thinking of leighton xreader. leighton discovers she's a sub when r calls her baby girl and she just melts. she's insecure about it
Baby girl
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Leighton wasn’t really used to being called pet names. Alicia wasn’t a fan of them, or at least she assumed that as the girl never called her any, and the dudes she “dated” before her weren’t the type to do so.
But you? You were differently, you loved using them and would do it every time you could. It started with normal ones like ‘love’ or ‘darling’, then over time it became something like ‘baby’ and ‘babe’ until the party.
Leighton, her roommates and you were at another frat party when you got separated as you and Bela volunteered to get drinks for everybody. “Damn, that’s a long as cue” the girl complained as you approached the bar and she was right. Normally there were about two to five people at the bar but right now there were about 15. You sighed before starting some small talk with the people around you. Once it was finally your turn you ordered and then quickly scurried off to find your group.
You arrived just in time to see your girlfriend insult a guy to make him back off. It was obvious that she could handle herself and you were 99% sure that he didn’t touch her as Leighton was very keen on campus and somebody would have something. Still, you hurried over to her, staying behind her in case she needed help. When she was done telling him off and he disappeared you made your presence known to her. One hand was on her waist while the other one was on her face as you examined her to make sure she was alright. “Are you okay baby girl?” You asked, watching the changes in her face.
She looked at you for a moment before pulling away from you while nodding. “Yeah, I’m good. Let’s go drink” she quickly turned away so you weren’t able to see the blush that took over her face. You were confused but followed her nonetheless. You drank, you danced, you chatted but the whole time Leighton avoided eye contact with you which was weird. After a couple of hours you and the blonde were dancing together closely, her back against your front with your hands on her waist. She was wearing that black dress that you loved, which may have been on purpose.
“You look really hot in that dress baby girl” you were a little tipsy and that nickname just kept flowing out, it fit her and you liked it for her. Her body shuddered under your hands and she leaned further into you, a small smirk on your lips. You had a theory and you wanted to test it.
Leighton felt her body heat up when you repeated that name. She’s always been this tall, confident blonde woman that people just assumed was a top, so she also always assumed it. But now with you, towering over her, calling her names like that she couldn’t help but rethink about it. “We should get out of here” she decided, turning around to wrap her arms around your shoulder. You gave her a nod before intertwining your hands to pull her to your dorm.
That night was the first night Leighton let go of herself, she let you take care of her in a way you always wanted. That night your bodies melted into each other, a new connection forming between the two of you. And secretly in a way she also always wanted, there wasn’t one thought in her beautiful mind except for you. Until the next morning.
You woke up with a happy smile on your face as you couldn’t wait to look to your right and see the most beautiful face you’ve ever seen but instead you were met with nothing. Cold sheets and a cold pillow. Your heart sank at the realization that she left after the night you’ve spend together. Sitting up against the headboard you checked for phone, hoping that she had to leave due to something and left you a message but again your heart sank. No text or call. Last night was the first time you felt like the blonde let go of herself, like she trusted you with all her life to take care of her.
While you sat in your bed with a heavy heart Leighton laid in hers with a heavy heart and a full mind. Yesterday’s events constantly replaying in her head but with each replay her heart got heavier and heavier at the realization that she could still lay in your arms, now just waking up. She hated herself for being so insecure about how she let you take care of her, you seemed to enjoy it too, so why leave? The question came up every time her flashback arrived at her tiptoeing out of your room. She couldn’t figure out why she couldn’t be happy with yesterday.
Meanwhile you couldn’t figure out what you had done wrong. Leighton wasn’t answering her phone, no matter how many times you called. After nearly the whole day went by you decided that you guys had to talk about it. If there was anything, literally anything, you had done wrong you wanted to know so you could fix it. You’d do everything to make it up to her. “Hi Kimberly, is Leighton here?” You asked the brunette with a small smile when she opened the door.
“Hi, yeah. I think she’s still in her room. I haven’t really seen her today, she wasn’t in the mood to talk” she answered, stepping aside to let you in. You nodded along as you made your way towards the blondes door.
“Ok, I’ll try and talk to her. Thank you” she gave you a nod and a smile before disappearing into her own room. You waited until her door closed before your knuckles came into contact with the wood. “Leighton? Can we talk?” You asked carefully as you opened the door a small bit so she could hear you better.
“Y/n?” She said surprised, you took that as a sign to come in. You quickly closed the door behind you again, leaning against it to get some kind of support. “What are you doing here?” Her voice was small, a bare whisper leaving her lips in the dark room.
“Well, you left without saying anything and I wanted to see how you’re doing and if I did anything wrong? Because if I did, I’m very sorry. I didn’t mean to force you into anything” you explained, not leaving your spot against the door. Leighton was happy about the darkness, your voice portrayed your feelings very clearly and she couldn’t imagine how you were looking right now.
“You didn’t do anything” while her voice was small you could hear that she was genuine. With a bit more confidence you moved towards her bed, sitting at her side on top of her blanket.
“Can I ask why you left then? And didn’t answer my texts? I thought something happened to you” your hand rested on one of her knees, carefully stroking her leg over the covers. You could practically feel her hesitating. “Baby girl?” You urged a bit. You knew the girl better than anyone by now and you knew the longer she was in her head the worse her thoughts got.
Her face turned red again at the nickname and she quickly looked away, trying to hide it just like yesterday. But this time her confidence build back up faster than before, she looked up at you to see you admiring her. Her mind was running miles, she couldn’t decide is she should tell you the truth or just make something up hoping that you’d believe it. But the hope and concern in your eyes as you looked down at her stopped her mind. “I am not used to this” she started, unsure of how to tell you that she was just insecure. That she leaving you in the middle of the night was just due to some stupid anxious thoughts.
Her anxious behavior was radiating off of her so bad that you could practically feel it. You nudged her a bit so she’d scutch over making room for you to lay next to her. You didn’t want to stare at her so you just laid on your back and held her hand in yours. “I’ve never let myself go like this, I’ve always been the dominant one… but with you yesterday, it was so easy, so normal. It just felt right to give control to you and that scares me” she explained, messing with your fingers. You smiled lightly at her, grabbing her hand and pressing a kiss to the back of it.
“And that is completely okay. If you didn’t feel comfortable with it we don’t have to do it again. But if you’re just scared because it hasn’t been like this before it’s okay. We can do take it slow, talk about it, we can do whatever you want to make you feel comfortable with it” you told her, finally facing her to give her a comforting smile. She turned her head towards you too and gave you a small nod.
“I do want it to be like that but I think it’s just that… everybody always expected me to be the strong and dominant one. I never had the opportunity to let go and now I don’t know how to deal with it” you nodded along as she explained her worries, her brows furrowing as she kept getting in her head. As she got deeper and deeper into her thoughts you reached up and brushed your thumb over her furrowed skin.
“Well, with me you can be whatever you want as long as you’re mine” you grinned, knowing that the cheesy line would lighten the mood. She loved watching romcoms with you to make jokes about the cheesiness and since you first did it you used every opportunity to be cheesy.
“You’re an idiot” she laughed as she turned on her side, one hand stroking over your stomach while yours placed itself on her waist. “But you know what, maybe we can practice me letting go now” she leaned over and pressed several kisses to your lips. You ushered her onto your lap, her thighs around you with her hands on your neck while yours grabbed at her hips.
“Whatever you want baby girl” you rasped out, by now knowing that the nickname did something to her. As soon as the nickname left your mouth, she whined and ground her hips down. You chuckled at her neediness before starting to leave marks on your neck.
The next morning you woke up with Leighton in your arms, her back pressed against your front as she held the hand that was over her waist. You smiled and pressed some kisses to her shoulder to lightly wake her up adding a “good morning baby girl”. You immediately heard a whine and felt how she turned in your arms with a smile.
“If you ever wanna leave this bed again you have to stop with that nickname” she said, quickly looking over to see that Bela wasn’t there. Her smile turning into a smirk.
You’d happily stay in that bed forever.
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dilatorywriting · 1 year
Text
Monster Mayhem: Siren's Song [Part 2]
Gender Neutral Reader x Vil Schoenheit Word Count: 4.6k
Summary: Fish are friends (?). You are not food.
[PART 1] [PART 1.5] [PART 2] [PART 3] [PART 4]
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The Siren wasn’t leaving.
Which a part of you had been expecting. Because surely if there had been a snowball’s chance in Hell of him making it out into the open ocean alive before you’d cut through the ropes, he would have taken it and left you stranded without a second thought. And his odds weren’t that much better now—his fins were still a mangled mess and the wounds all along his scales and dainty featherings were still raw and oozing. It only made sense that he’d take at least a few days to try and recover.
But… But still.
Did he have to make it so obvious that he was sticking around?
The glint of the light off his tail was a constant distraction—always bright and eye-catching even at the cloudiest points of the day. Always flashing just out of the corner of your eye as a perpetual reminder that there was something in the water that would very happily gobble you up if you bothered making a swim for safety.
He’d also taken to sunning himself. Like some kind of overgrown mer-cat. Stretched out languidly on a flat rock with the tips of his violet fins hanging over the edge—just enough for the gauzy edges to play along the surf and avoid drying out entirely. His pale hair splayed out in a halo around him as he snoozed softly in the heat of the afternoon.
Which! No fair! This wasn’t a vacation! This was a stranding! An SOS! A Rose Queen Procedural Rule Four-Hundred-and-Four! And him taking up the whole of the cove to, I don’t know, tan, felt like another intentional slap in the face. The sun rose over the bay, which meant this stretch of shore was facing East. Which was the direction your vessel had been coming from. Which meant that this was the place on the little islet where you needed to be. Subsection Three of Procedural Four-O’-Four. ‘In the case of Crew Overboard, we will always travel the same route as planned. In order to give the Strandee a chance to map out a reconnection point.’ Riddle always had been so smart about these kinds of things.
‘It’s just until he’s better,’ you reassured yourself for the umpteenth time that morning. ‘Then he’ll leave and I can get rescued or die here alone and in peace.’
A fin flicked up from the shallows to spray you with saltwater splatters and you spluttered indignantly when it ran down into your eyes. You glared at the Siren’s retreating back, musing bitterly about how you’d never thought it was possible for someone to make the tuck of their shoulders look smug.
‘Alone and in peace,’ you repeated hopefully. And it sounded like such far off dream.
.
.
On the second day post-rope-removal, the Siren waved you down with a sharp flick of his wrist.
You approached the waterline hesitantly, still mostly waiting for him to turn on you and make toothpicks out of your bones. But instead of murdering you and getting crafty with your corpse, he just pointed to some scribbles in the sand. You squinted at the loop-de-loops suspiciously. It almost looked like an illustration of dancing bubbles—the lot of them curling and popping along the ground in a line like a limerick. 
“Uhm, very nice,” you tried, and the fins flattened pissilly all along the side of his head.
He jabbed his claw towards the mess again. Then firmly at your eyes (hopefully not as a threat that he’d be happy to take them right out of your head if you continued to be obtuse). And then back again. He made a point to move the tip of his sharp nail from one swirl to the next in a little hop-hop-hop. It reminded you a bit deliriously of Riddle trying to teach some of the more socially bereft members of the crew their letters, and—
“You want me to read that?” you gaped, staring at the elegant curls of nonsense in the sand.
The Siren crossed his arms across his lean chest with a scoff that puffed past his lips hard enough to fluff out some of the paler, purple-tipped, hair hanging by his chin. He rolled his eyes at you and muttered something thin and spicy under his breath that you just knew had to be some sort of insult.
“I can read!” you defended, because it felt like it needed defending.
He leveled you with an entirely unimpressed ‘Oh, I’m sure you can’ sneer and you dropped to your knees, incensed. You dug your fingers into the sand and started sculpting out your own very cheery message into the muck.
When you were done, you waved a hand towards your proclamation and watched his brows pull together at the center into a teeny, pinched sort of expression. He let himself roll forward with the seafoam to lay more fully on the shore, and stared down at the mess you’d made like it was some strange code. Even reaching out to poke softly at the straight edge of a ‘T’ with one of his knife-sharp talons.
After a long moment of contemplation, he looked back up at you with an arched brow that was so unintentionally poised and not full of spite that it almost took your breath away. Who knew how pretty an already stunning face could become when it wasn’t twisted up in absolute vitriol? You shook away that absolutely damning thought in horror. That’s exactly what he’d want you to think. Siren, and all. Using his hotness to lure people onto his dinner table. Not you, baby. Because you were smart. And so gross from being stranded under island sunshine for a week that surely you’d taste like some absolutely rancid jerky at this point.
“Oh no,” you droned, and immediately that subtle curiosity of his ticked right back into irritation. “Two creatures from entirely different species and ecosystems have somehow managed to develop unique alphabets. What a completely unpredictable complication.”
The Siren puffed up like an angry lionfish and turned with a snarl to dive back into the shallows—making sure to whip his tail in your face and slam into the water with a huge splash as he went. The salt spray pelted down like rain and you snickered as it sloughed off your cheeks in rivulets, content to sit merrily in the wet sand beside your hastily scribbled: ‘Mermen Are Vicious Bitches. Hit Me if You Agree :)’
.
.
The next morning, there were more fish on the shoreline. Though these ones looked a bit less like they’d been dragged up by their souls and left to writhe in the wake of Siren-Screaming-Agony and more just like the unfortunate victims of a pair of too sharp claws.
You frowned down at a brown, sad-looking flounder that had clearly found itself at the very wrong end of a certain merman still swanning about in the bay not fifty feet away. It was mostly intact, and pleasantly plump for a flat, pancake-looking blob of muck. Your stomach gurgled and the thought of a nice, coal-charred, fillet really seemed quite nice. You chanced another peek at your resident Asshole, debating if it was worth swiping his snack. Another ominous rumble from your abdomen and you reached down to steal your prize and scuttle off deeper inland like a troll returning to its layer.
It didn’t take very long to get a small fire going, and within the hour you’d been fed and were more than ready for a cozy, full-bellied nap in the soft sand.
By the time you began to make your way back to the cove, the sun was high in the sky and you were already dreading sitting beneath its weighted rays for another afternoon. So you slowed your pace to a near snail crawl, dragging your feet as you went.
The little octopus from earlier was still swaying contentedly around the tide pool you’d shoved it into. It probably needed to be carried back out to the bay at some point so that it could swim back into the depths of the ocean, but the poor thing was just so small and round. Surely it’d get devoured by the first sharp-toothed thing that caught sight of it. Especially with your merman apparently being out for the blood of whatever other scaly things were swimming about in his temporary home. So for now you slipped it some small bits of leftover fish instead. You sat, crouched at the pool’s edge, and watched raptly as it grabbed the shredded bits of pale meat with its chubby tentacles to shove towards an eager beak.
“You’re the only friend I have left in the whole world,” you told the octopus miserably, wiping the greasy remnants of your lunch off your chin with a sigh.
The traitor hurriedly moved to snatch up the treat you’d offered it and hide itself away between some rocky crevices. You sighed louder. Rejected. What a time to be alive. 
.
.
The next morning, the Siren was singing again.
That familiar prickle danced its way up your arms, leaving pinpricks of goosebumps in its wake. Some pirates told tales of storms leaving their mark in such a way—that seasoned sailors could feel the tickle of thunder against their skin long before they could spot dark clouds on the horizon. You’d have to amend that little legend whenever you found your way back to The Rose Queen. Siren Sense was a lot cooler, anyways. Any idiot with arthritis could tell you when rain was due.
But either way, Mister Merman was back to idly circling the bay and calling into the distance. At least it wasn’t as miserable as it had been the other day—more of a leisurely pacing than the frantic, near-feral caterwauling that had soured your gut so terribly.
There was another fat fish on the shore. A bright, red snapper so brilliantly crimson that it was almost impossible to make out the garish wounds in its side. Almost. And even if it hadn’t been, the drooping, rust colored, rivulets dug into the sand would have been enough of a clue.
Why the Siren was bothering to leave his clawed-up kills at your feet like some overgrown cat dragging in mice, you had no idea. Maybe he was poisoning them, and subsequently you. Maybe he was bored and it was some sort of fishy enrichment. Maybe he just didn’t want to bother leaving dead things around to contaminate his favorite sunning spots, and tossing his leftovers in your vicinity was as close to a reliable dumpster as he could find on a remote island. Who’s to say.
Either way, you dutifully ignored the magical tingles racing up your shoulders and brought the newest fish back to your makeshift firepit. You grilled the snapper in silence, debating. Then you fed your octopus friend and returned to the beach, cooked fillets in tow.
You waited in awkward silence for a few moments, fish burning your palms, before raising your fingers to your lips and whistling loud enough to make your teeth ache. The mystical static faded from the air and you watched in pleasant (?) surprise as the Siren made his way back to where you’d set up camp. He rolled in with the tide, cresting on a gentle bit of surf and coming to rest neatly in the shallows—fins splayed out beneath him like a lord lying amidst his many silken robes. He propped himself up on his elbows and looked at you with an arched brow and slanted frown.
You awkwardly extended a hand—roasted snapper still resting in your open palm and burning the absolute fuck out of your fingers.
“Uhm,” you said, feeling a bit too much like the local idiot trying to feed one of the rabid, wandering, strays around town. “Food?”
He scoffed and rolled his eyes at you.
“Do you want food?” you tried.
The other brow joined the first, nearly rising all the way into his hairline. It wasn’t a pleasant sort of surprise.
“It’s better cooked?” you coaxed in the face of his outright constipated scowl. Be fed and full, you thought hopefully. Maybe then you won’t fucking look at me like I’m a boxed lunch.
He jabbed a sharpened, black talon in your direction, and then pointedly again angled up towards your mouth. Then back to the fish still roasting your poor cuticles straight off your fingers.
You blinked, a bit thrown.
“What? It’s supposed to be for me?”
He nodded, throwing in another one of those bombastically snarky eyerolls for good measure. ‘Obviously,’ that sneer said.
“Well,” you huffed, plopping down to sit cross-legged in the sand and offering up one of the fillets. “There’s plenty for both of us.” When he stared at you like you were attempting to serve him up a choice pile of literal dog shit, you wiggled your hand and entreated, “Please just take it before my skin melts off.”
The Siren huffed and reached out, plucking up the fish with the tips of his claws. He observed your meager meal as one might a particularly unappealing cockroach, and after a long moment, his nose scrunched (cute, you thought absently before immediately suffocating every wayward braincell that would dare call your murderous shore-neighbor anything of the sort) and he leaned forward to nip at a crisped, pink corner with the barest edge of one canine.
When your culinary creation didn’t immediately strike him dead on the spot, he took another, equally dainty bite. And then another. The tight pucker of his mouth eased as he chewed, and you watched as the harsh cut of his purple irises warmed with that same intrigue as they had when you’d first scribbled your foreign letters into the sand.
He readjusted his grip on the fish between his claws to get a better angle and took a proper bite, chewing thoughtfully. Before you knew it, you were watching him nip at the pads of his fingers, his gaze going a bit round and shocked when he realized that he’d devoured the entirety of it.
“See?” you hummed, tucking into your own portion with gusto. “Not all things humans come up with are terrible.” He harumphed and turned to glare back out over the bay, slouching into the surf with an expression that was most certainly not a pout. “But maybe you’d know that if you bothered to do anything other than murder and devour us on sight,” you chirped.
To which you were immediately doused with an armful of water for your troubles. The Siren glowered petulantly from where he’d just wave-bombed you, and then dove back into the deeper waters of the sandbar. He immediately started up his stupid singing all over again—pointedly keeping his chin high above the surface and splashing brine into your face anytime he looped close enough to shore.
“I don’t know why I bother,” you huffed, and ate your sopping snapper in grumpy silence.
.
.
There was a ship wrecked off the coast.
Nothing overly cool, and definitely only a small chunk of what had probably at one point been a rather impressive vessel. But it was something. The first change in pace you’d had in days and oozing with possibilities.
The only problem was that the great, rotting, hull of the thing was dug up into a jagged skerry about a hundred yards off the shore—wedged into the pointed rocks with no chance of any wave or breeze sending it adrift. You could swim perfectly well. I mean, living your life on a ship surrounded by tumultuous, depthless, ocean would have been a hugely stupid career move otherwise. The issue, naturally, was the thing currently making its home in these waters. Sharks and barracudas, blablabla. They were just animals, no matter how many teeth they had. The Siren had a grudge. And just as many teeth.
Right now, said spiky pain in your ass was lounging in the shallows like the froth was an elegant daybed made just for him—shredded fins swaying in the soft tides and his hair floating about him that same, white-gold halo that made him look far too peaceful for anyone’s good sense. He wasn’t singing today, which was great for the local wildlife population but terrible for your Siren Sense. Once you waded into the waves, you’d have no real way to keep track of him. Hope, maybe, that he didn’t think fucking with you was worth messing up whatever tan-line he had going on. But nothing concrete that you’d be willing to bet the safety of your limbs on.
You wiggled your toes in the sand and stared longingly out at the stupid, wrecked ship that was so stupidly close. If you swam your fastest you could probably make it there in under two minutes—less than that, even. But that was still more than enough time for the Siren to rake those dark claws of his across your throat and drag you down into the depths to drown.
Riddle’s angry, red face swam through your thoughts, and you could practically see him shoving that beloved law tome of his under your nose for the umpteenth time.
‘Rule 32, never make dangerous bets that you’re certain you won’t win, particularly if you are betting against a Blue Nosed Beetle.’
‘Rule 15, do not needlessly sacrifice your life in the name of curiosity, excluding—of course—if you hail from Cheshire or are a Cat.’
‘It’s only a dumb shipwreck,’ you thought miserably, if rationally. ‘It’s probably not even that cool.’
Your captain would be so proud.
.
.
The next morning you were rolling up the cuffs on your pants and wading into the cool shallows, silently lighting a candle in your heart for your beloved, steam-faced leader and promising that you would at the very least cover the costs of your own funeral so as not to inconvenience him further.
The waves lapped against your ankles and the waters themselves were shockingly clear and blue. You could practically see each grain of sand beneath your heels—make out each pointy rock and the little, red crabs that scuttled away from your tromping like civilians fleeing from the shadow of a leviathan. The Siren was back to singing today. Perhaps his poor, overworked throat simply needed a break every now and again. But either way, your Merman Magic Missive was working in full force. The hairs on your arms stood at full attention and you liked to imagine you could see them twitching in circles to follow his long, looping arcs through the bay.  
You made it up to your knees and waited, eyes scanning the open water and nose twitching like maybe you could smell the fucker. There was nothing but a familiar prickle along your shoulders and that deep sense of ‘tug tug tug’ with no answer, so you took a deep breath and pushed further, the water sloshing up to your hips, your chest, and finally you were floating—paddling slow and cautious towards the wreckage.
It really was insanely close. Even moving at your most cautious, sneakiest crawl, you’d made it nearly three-quarters of the way there within perhaps five minutes. And no signs of a vengeful, hungry Siren circling the waters beneath you either. More rules that perhaps that you’d have to tell Riddle might need some amending  once you finally made it back home to your crew. ‘Dangerous bets,’ who? ‘Needless sacrifice,’ what? You might as well have outsmarted the whole ocean.
As you moved closer, you could make out a strange coat of arms on the side of the hull that you didn’t recognize. Twining, silver songbirds soaring against the sparkly backdrop of an otherwise plain faced crest, which honestly looked far too delicate to be heading the broken remains of what was no doubt at one point an absolute monster of a vessel. You reached out to brush your fingers against the shining plaque and then you were underwater.
You fought the immediate impulse to gasp in surprise, because expediting the process of your inevitable drowning just seemed stupid even by your standards. There was a clawed hand wrapped around your calf yanking you down, and you squinted through a stream of panicked bubbles to see your terrible, horrible, completely thankless co-strandee snarling up at you with sharp teeth and a sharper flail of his delicate gills. Thankfully the water wasn’t all that deep, so by the time you’d been dragged to the bottom you were maybe only ten feet under. But still. It was the goddamn principle! And besides, you’d heard about enough drunks drowning in puddles to know that this was more than enough Liquid Death to put you in an early grave.
The Siren looped around you in tight circles, and you could feel the brush of his tattered fins against your skin like the ghostly fingers of a reaper trailing down your spine. You’d known he was big—giant, even. Long, and impressive, and built to rule the very depths he’d dragged you into. Large enough to wrestle with sharks and capsize lifeboats. Big enough, no doubt, to eat you whole and still be hungry enough for seconds.
The salt stung your eyes and you blinked hard to keep his vibrant, amethyst tail in focus. Would he strike from the back, where you couldn’t see? Or would he go right for your throat—a direct, full frontal, ‘fuck you, human’ if there ever was one. And honestly, what were you expecting? That a good deed and a few pieces of cooked fish would sway him from devouring you whole? Maybe the island sun had fried whatever remained of your rattled brain.  
He stopped in front of you and hissed—a stream of tight, tiny, bubbles jetting past his canines. You glared in petulant confusion, absolutely refusing to give your would-be murderer whatever reaction he was hoping for. His brow pinched into a tight, angry, v and he snarled again. You snarled back, and with that, the last breath in your lungs swooped out of you in a tight squeak. You choked, and struggled, and kicked at the claws holding you down. The Siren reared back, eyes widening in something that looked insultingly like genuine surprise, and you used his moment of hesitation to propel yourself off the sandbar and back to the choppy surface.
You gasped in a hasty breath, expecting to immediately be dragged back under. But when you weren’t pulled back down to your watery grave, you took in another and another. Gasping, and hacking, and spitting up seafoam. The Siren’s head crested the surface beside you and you flailed away, nearly pushing yourself under all over again. You paddled frantically, trying to keep your nose above the tide, and then suddenly there was something under you. You squawked and kicked it on instinct. The Siren snapped his pointy teeth in your face and you realized with a start that oh. That was him, wasn’t it? The long, winding, scaled muscles of his tail curled beneath your toes in what almost seemed like an attempt to keep you upright.
He stared at you with those unnervingly bright eyes of his—blonde hair curling softly at the edges where it plastered elegantly along his finned ears, and those too-long lashes dripping with small, sparkly, drops of salt water.
“What the hell is this bullshit?” you choked, coughing up more bubbly froth. “You don’t get to look so—so put together after trying to murder me!”  
The Siren huffed out something that the delusional, still half-drowned, part of you wanted to classify as a laugh. And then he organized that bemused expression back into its usual, haughty, iciness and began to carefully make his way back towards the shore—towing you along like a poor, little, lost buoy with nowhere else to go.
You let him drag you up into the sand and only flopped around a little. He flicked his tail at you and your dramatics and you turned on him with a fierce, waterlogged scowl—a bit more confident now that he didn’t have the home field advantage.
“What was that for! I just wanted to look at the ship! I wasn’t even doing anything to you!” you wailed. “I haven’t done anything to you at all! Ever! Why do you keep—" you collapsed back into the sand with a miserable whine that rattled all the teeth in your head, and ground the heels of your palms into your eyes until you saw stars.
After a long moment of nothing, you felt a gentle tap at your shoulder.
You looked back up with a start to see Mister Merman looking nearly sheepish.Or as much of an equivalent that his aloof mask of a face was capable of pulling off. The clawed finger resting at your collarbone dropped to the sand by your hip, and he carefully began to draw more of those squiggles. No, scratch that. Not the dancing, popping, ones from the other day. These actually looked sort of like the silver songbirds from that shipwreck. More jagged, certainly. But similar enough that you felt something a bit too coldly cautious to be confusion seep through your guts.
Once he was finished, he looked up and met your gaze—sharp, pointed. And then he reached back out and smeared the birds into nothing and shook his head, firm. His red lips moved slowly, exaggerated, again and again. And you could make out the vague shape of words you’d had shouted at you a hundred times over.
‘Not safe.’
That same, shivery, nervous feeling bit at your limbs.
“…okay,” you said after a moment. And then leaned forward to dig your own fingers into the sand, dutifully ignoring how your elbows knocked against his own.
‘Not safe,’ you wrote, and watched his eyes trace each letter like a treasure map.
There was another tap at your shoulder. And then he pointed to the words in the muck, then to himself.
You rolled your eyes. “Yes, yes. You’re not safe either.”
He sighed dramatically enough to ruffle the ends of your still soaked hair. And then pointed to the words again, tapping at the ‘N’ with the curved tip of a claw.
“Nnnn?” you mouthed, confused.
He moved to the ‘o’ next and it clicked.
“You want me to teach you how to read my letters?” you asked, flabbergasted. Another sigh, like you’d dropped the weight of all the world on his pale shoulders. Or perhaps that your idiocy was enough to put that hearty mass to shame. You decided that you were still feeling a bit too much like you’d only just barely escaped a brush with death, dismemberment, and dinner plans to push your luck with sassing him back too harshly, and just blinked owlishly in dazed surprise. “But why?”
His purple eyes trailed in the direction of the shipwreck and something cutting and poisonous clouded his expression. He pointed to the words again.
‘Not safe.’
“Alright,” you said, looking out over the water with a strange sort of sinking feeling in your gut. You leaned forward and began to draw the alphabet at your feet. His tail twitched by your fingers and you ignored the soft brush of his still-healing fins. “This one’s an ‘A’, like in ‘Asshole’—"
Whomp went the tail as he cracked it across your knuckles like a school matron with a ruler. And you couldn’t help the startled burst of genuine, tinkling laughter that bubbled past your lips for the first time since you’d been dragged overboard.
.
.
[TAG LIST - CLOSED]
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Consuetudinis magna vis est • Old habits die hard
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Summary : You tend to the wound of Ser Erryk Cargyll and feelings are exchanged. Or in which Erryk loves teasing you.
Pairing : Erryk Cargyll x Reader
Word Count : 826 words
Warnings : talking about stitches, fluff.
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It was a habit of his. Ser Erryk Cargyll would participate in tourneys, hurt himself almost every time and will then come to you asking to patch him up. You started to wonder if the man wasn’t doing it on purpose. You knew he was a great knight and an experienced soldier that could win against almost every opponent that he faced. Then why would he knock at your door, his right hand clutching at his wounded shoulder, with a little smile lingering on his pretty lips that he tried to hide as best as he could.
« My regards my lady, excuse myself for interrupting your day but I must admit that I need your help once again »
You looked at him with doubting eyes but still let him enter your chambers.
« I must admit, ser Cargyll, that you frequently need my help recently, I didn’t know you were starting to lose your combat skills all of the sudden. Or maybe you were always clumsy, don’t you think ? », you teased with a little smile. Erryk and you had almost grew up together. As he became a knight and you a proper lady, little glances and touches were exchanged in the most subtle way between you and him, almost like nothing happened, when in reality you both waited to share more time together.
He smiled back at you with knowing eyes as he seated on the exact same chair as always when he needed your care. He waited for you to removed his chest plates when he answered.
« Maybe it is the case my lady. Maybe since you don’t have time to attend my training sessions anymore, it became vain for me to impress anyone »
You tried to hold back the smile that threaten to grow on your lips when you heard his teasing voice. He was skilled at taunting you, that was obvious.
You stayed silent for a moment as you removed the top half of his armor and his doublet, letting your gaze wander over his uncovered chest. You thought you were discreet when doing so, but Erryk was used to your wandering eyes as he looked at you from the corner of his eyes with a silent chuckle.
« Is there a matter, my lady ? You’re awfully quiet all of the sudden »
You stopped looking at him and went to fetch your needle for stitching him up. When you came back to him and seated just beside him, subconsciously a little more closer every time, you nodded your head at him.
You started your stitches, as gently as always Erryk thought, you were always delicate with your movements as your left hand held his skin lightly, occasionally rubbing your thumb on his shoulder intuitively.
« Should I be scared that you would be returning to me in pieces one day, ser Cargyll ? », you half joked.
Erryk looked at you with a teasing smile as his face came impossibly closer to yours, his lips grazing your ear in the process as he whispered, « I didn’t know that my lady was that devoted to me »
You blushed at his question as your hands shook for a second at the proximity between you and him, making you focus even more on your actual work.
« I don’t know what you’re talking about my good lord »
Erryk continued his teasing as his thumb brushed against your blushing cheek ever so gently, « Then why are you cheeks tainted with a lovely rozy shade, my dear ? »
His lovely touch and tempting eyes didn’t really help in your little predicament, it was aggravating your flustered state even more. You finished tending to his wound as neatly as always and answered to him as you put away your utensils.
« I-I must have catch a cold my lord, I feel slightly sick since this morning », you tried to lied when the both of you perfectly knew the truth.
Erryk looked at you with a knowing smile as you returned to him in order to put his chest plates back on. His eyes never left your figure as you shyly avoided his gaze.
When his armor was perfectly placed, your hands hesitantly stayed on his shoulders just a bit longer. You looked up at him with gentle eyes, lightly chewing on the inside of your lips as you felt so small in front of him.
Just before leaving your chambers, Erryk pressed a chaste kiss on the corner of your mouth as a thank you, then on your brow to show how protective he was of you and he finally took your hand in his to kiss your knuckles as a form of respect and affection. At your door, Erryk turned back to you one last time with his usual lingering smile.
« I hope my fighting skills don't improve anytime soon my lady »
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jarofstyles · 6 months
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Buttercream
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Hello my loves! This is the first part to our Patreon exclusive series, Buttercream. The ready is available on Patreon (over 18 parts) and is still being updated. You all asked to see what’s available to read and I’m giving you sneaks of it!
A series featuring an Alpha Architect Harry, a bossy bakery owning omega Y/N, the sweetest treats taste tested and some steamy smut.
Check out our Patreon for all parts of the series and 150+ exclusive writings.
——-
The smell kept him coming back.
In his life, Harry had been to a quite a few bakeries. He could be considered an expert on fudge brownies, a specialist on cupcakes and the swirls of icing, a connoisseur of croissants. He treated himself a bit too often, if his mother had anything to say with it. His sweet tooth had always been prevalent in his life.
The new bakery down the road from his job, though? That had made him a true problem.
Every day before work, he stopped. Suit and all, pulling into the parking lot and nearly drooling the moment he got out. His feet carried him towards the door and the smell hit him immediately. Sweet buttercream, frothy vanilla, spiced cinnamon, and… something else. That something else that had him nearly vibrating, and now on a mission to have the whole menu to figure out just what the hell that scent was.
It was intoxicating. Mesmerizing. If Harry didn’t have work, he would spend hours just sitting here to smell it. It had a weird hold on him, and he didn’t quite know how to ask if it was an air freshener. That was unlikely for anywhere but restrooms anyways considering how offensive it could be for the noses of alpha’s and omegas alike. A bad scented one could send them into moods. Or even sickness. The sense of smell was very important.
“Mr.Styles.” The teen manning the cash register saluted him. He came in every day and was known to the cashiers, so he had ruled out it being one of them. Thank god. They were either young enough to not have a scent or too old for it to be possible. “What will it be today? Y/N’s been whipping up a storm for the holidays. New recipes. We’ve got a peppermint bark brownie that would go well with the peppermint mocha you like.” She chirped, watching as he scanned the cases.
Harry was a little intimidating but he was exceptionally charming. He smiled, he conversed, he tipped well, but he always seemed to be looking around. Trying to find something that no one could really place. The bakery was empty besides a mum and her friend with their kids, munching on treats and coffee as they watched the traffic go by. It wasn’t them. Harry’s ears did perk up when he heard an unfamiliar name.
“Y/N?” He asked, tilting his head as his attention went back to the cashier. “Who’s that? The owner?” Harry had never met the owner. For some reason, every time he came in the morning she had stepped out for her own break. It didn’t bother him so long as his compliments to the baker got passed along, but hearing her name stirred something in his chest.
“Yep.” She popped the p in her word. “She’s awesome. She started this all on her own after she went viral on the internet. She got the funds from online orders. You see the custom cakes and stuff but she does awesome experimental flavors. She doesn’t care if they’re hits or misses and let’s us go home with leftovers.” There was obvious pride to be working for someone like Y/N. It peaked his interest.
“Oh?” He asked, leaning his body against the counter. “That’s incredible. I’d be very happy to taste some of the new things.” He flashed a smile, tapping his card against the wood of the counter. “What would you think Y/N would suggest?” And why did saying her name make him feel silky and hot? Like it was meant to live on his lips? They tingled as the word left his mouth, making him shift his stance slightly. His skin was buzzing slightly as he heard someone else come from the back.
“She would suggest the peppermint bark brownies, the s’mores donut, the lemon cream cookie and the chili chocolate cupcake. Spice and sweet work surprisingly well together.” The airy voice went to his bones.
Harry could smell it fully now. The scent that laced the bakery was now engulfing him. Filling the space, making him inhale it with each breath. His hand tightened on the card, curling into a fist at his side as he caught a glimpse of her. She had been the source. It wasn’t a baked good or a cashier, but it was the baker herself that was making him addicted to the sweets laced with her scent.
He was silent as he observed her, a smile quirked on her lips. Slightly glossy and deliciously plump as she greeted the cashier with a simple hey and asking her to go to the back to grab the other new tray of cinnamon buns. Sliding them on to the rack, she used her hip to gently nudge the counter open and grabbed one for Harry.
“Here. On the house.” She slid the bag over to him with her soft simper, hands tapping on the wood.
She was marvelous.
Harry was speechless. Something he never usually was- the alpha could talk to a brick wall if he needed to- but this sweet little omega has been slowly hypnotizing him with her scent over the course of a month and now he was finally seeing her. He loved delayed gratification, a fan of edging, but this? He wished he had seen her far earlier.
“Hi.” He peeped. His face looked like he saw a ghost. The woman in front of him was like a mirage- and he wasn’t trying to be dramatic. He swore she was familiar to him in some way. Some how. She was all omega in the ways that called to him. The curve of her face and her soft voice… he could have started purring if he didn’t have some semblance of self control in his body.
“Hi.” She returned the greeting with a soft chuckle that heated his chest. “I hope you like the suggestions. I recognized your voice. You’ve been in here every morning we’re open and I figured it was about time to meet the loyal customer.” She chirped, brushing the stray hair that had fallen from her ponytail behind her ears. The adorably disheveled look added to her appeal.
A candy apple red apron was dusted with various baking material, tied around her waist snug. It showed the curve of her waist went deeper than what he could tell under her sweatshirt that appeared to have the bakery name printed on it. A swipe of flour was decorating her forehead, like she had wiped hair from her face and simply forgot about flour coated hands. Little details he was memorizing to think about later.
“I love the smell.” He blurted out. Immediately, he winced. That hadn’t been what he had meant to say, at least how he had meant to say it. Heat crept up further under his cheeks as he opened and closed his mouth, watching her giggle a bit as he tried to find his bearings.
“Fucking hell- I meant to say, I love your bakery. It smelled amazing when I went past it so I decided to stop in a few weeks ago and now it’s become a part of my daily routine. I bring in pastries for the office.”
“Aren’t you a star coworker.” She cooed, turning from him with a wink as she grabbed one of the red boxes and began to construct it. “They must love you at the office. I have on good authority that the one that brings the snacks, gets the pats on the back. Especially hand made, beautifully crafted baked goods.” She teased, opening up the case and beginning to place some sweets into it.
“I’d hope they like me. I’m their boss.” He laughed quietly, scratching the back of his neck. Never has he felt more like a schoolboy talking to a playground crush. He was head to toe in a suit good enough to meet his best clients, and a girl with flour on her face was sending him to his knees. Each time she moved, a gentle waft of her scent was given his direction and made that ever loved self control hang by a thread.
“Ooooo. Bossman.” She grinned, wiggling her brow as she placed another iced brownie with crushed peppermint bark sprinkled on top into the box. “Should have guessed. Love the suit, by the way. You look very handsome.”
That little compliment made his day. The pretty omega with the prettier smile and mouthwatering scent thought he looked handsome. That would be lingering in his brain all day. How she thought he was handsome. The casual compliments.
“Thank you.” He preened. “We do interior and exterior design for businesses. Up and coming places and remodels. So if you ever need a guy- I’m here.” He placed his hands in his pockets and lifted up on his toes rocking back and forth.
“Oooo. Is it that bad in here? Do I need a renovation?” She sucked her teeth, tilting her head. It had him freezing, mouth falling open to grovel. He hadn’t meant to offend her at all, hadn’t tried to insinuate it needed a remodel.
“Shit- no, I’m sorry. It’s very cute in here, I didn’t mean to insinuate it needed any help. I’m sorry, I didn’t realize how it would sound-“
“Cool it, bossman.” She cooed, laughing at how he had nearly fallen over himself. “I’m just messing with you. The place does need some exterior work, actually. I hadn’t had the budget when we first started, nor the time. But I didn’t take any offense to it. You’ve got to market yourself. Don’t worry.” Her reassurance made him melt into relief, leaning into the counter. This whole encounter had him feeling a bit on edge in the weirdest way. He wanted to snuggle this woman, yet he was almost afraid of her. An omega. He was afraid of an omega.
Anyone else would laugh at him, perhaps, but he felt the nervousness creeping in his bones. He wanted her to like him. He wanted her to think he was cool and want to know him better. Y/N, Y/N, Y/N. She had unarmed his normal charm and made him feel like a nervous bundle of sweat and it was exhilarating.
“I’ll take a card, though.” She placed her hand out flat. “If you’ve got one. I’m gonna check out your website.”
Harry fished one out of his wallet, thankful he kept them on hand. It had his office number, and part of him wanted to offer his personal cell but he knew that would be a bit weird. Especially if she wanted to use his services. He almost hoped she didn’t- asking a client on a date wasn’t good for the image, was it? He wasn’t sure.
“If you’ve got any questions you can reach out on the email there, it’s a direct line to me- or uh, I come in every day so.” He shrugged. “Around this time. You’ve got very good coffee too. It’s been a while since I’ve had a good hazelnut. People put a lot of syrups and things… but your shop does it the best.”
“Thank you.” She seemed chuffed with his praise. “I taste test everything with the crew here. You’ll be in for a treat. If you’re coming in every morning, do you think you’d want to be a bit of a guinea pig for me?” She slid the box across the counter. “I’ve been experimenting like my lovely employee was saying. But I’d love a real customers opinion. Even if it’s bad. I want to know what the consumer likes.”
Harry was shocked. Y/N was kind of treating him like a friend, like she valued his exact opinion. He couldn’t deny he felt exceptionally special. Having not only the owner of the bakery but an omega he had some sort of crush on suddenly want to sample the new things she sells and get his opinion on it.
“Oh- uh. Alright. Of course! I can do that.” He grinned shyly, handing his card over for her to pay for the things she had put into the box. “I come in every morning during the week so… you can just let me know what’s new to taste.” There was a giddiness in his stomach. An excuse to talk to her every day. Or at least a few times a week. He’s never really reacted this way to an omega before, the scent craving, the shyness he suddenly felt, all of it was so new to him and he was unsure how to navigate it but he didn’t want to stop. He only wanted more.
“Perfect. What is your name, by the way?” The card was handed back to him and there was slight disappointment their fingers didn’t brush, but Harry took today was a victory.
“Harry. Harry Styles. It’s lovely to meet you.”
“Y/N. I’m glad to meet you too. I hope to see more of you soon.”
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heavenbarnes · 7 months
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Um hi! I saw your reblog with Spencer in his FBI bulletproof vest and in the tags how you said you'd fuck him with it on!! Do you think you could write something about that??
I'm thinking like Reader is on the team with him.. sees him in it one day and can't stop gawking over him. So, one case they're on they ride together in the Suburban and Reader makes him pull off somewhere because they can't wait any longer for him to fuck them. Like semi-public sex, riding him in the suburban. Or like, if you didn't want it to be semi-public, Reader and him could be at the hotel they're staying at and she makes him keep it on to have sex..
A lot of hard work
Spencer Reid x reader
Warnings/contains: no mention of reader’s gender, objectification (of one Spencer Reid), mentions of an unsub, Spencer is confident in this, inappropriate use of the FBI vest, swearing, dirty talk, humping, making out, semi-public, almostttt at the good stuff
I LOVE that you see my tags and I love even more you asked me to write from them! I hope you enjoy this! I did cut off right before the good parts so maybe, maaaaybe we could give it a p2
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The adrenaline should’ve been wearing off.
It probably was, it was probably something entirely different twisting at the pit of your stomach.
Unsub shut in the back of the police car, SWAT retreating back in their trucks, the team were gathered around the hood of the suburban for a debrief.
A debrief you should’ve been listening to.
It was no use, as if you could hear anything over the blood rushing in your ears.
Hotch had his usual stern expression as he spoke, but the more you tried to focus on what he was saying- the more your eyes kept drifting just over his left shoulder.
This was fucking obscene.
All he was doing, all he was doing, was listening to your boss (like you should’ve been). His sunglasses were pushed up his nose, he had a few perfect curls falling across his forehead, as usual.
The sleeves of his shirt were rolled to his elbows and the high sun was glinting off the large watch on his wrist. Your eyes followed his, frankly perfect, forearms up to his hands.
Veins running just below the surface leading you to long fingers, all wrapped around the thick shoulder straps of his bullet-proof vest. The one that was spanned across his chest and sitting up on his waist.
Spencer Reid looked insanely fuckable with the vest on.
You were lucky Hotch had split you up when you’d arrived on scene. If you’d had to watch Spencer running before you in that vest, you think you might’ve had to ask the unsub to kill you next.
The sight was nearly obscene.
You’d managed, just and only managed to support your team and get the job done- putting your own debauched thoughts away long enough to be serious for a second.
But as everyone was dispersing from the scene, under orders to meet back in the bullpen for paperwork, you had a feeling it wasn’t over for you yet.
That feeling came with Spencer calling your name, simply gesturing towards an empty suburban as he flashed the keys.
When nobody else joined you in the back of the car, you knew there was no way it’d ever be over. Especially not when he sat in the driver seat, vest still firmly secured around him.
Dropping yourself into the passenger seat, you resorted to pressing one very warm cheek to the window in attempt to find some relief.
There was none to be found, not when Spencer was reaching one long arm behind your seat to reverse out of the spot- Lord have mercy.
You’d both managed to get some ten minutes into the trip before he’d piped up, before he’d acknowledged the obvious change in your behaviour.
“What’s going on with you?”
His eyes flickered off the road for a moment, one hand on the wheel and the other resting on his thigh as he moved through the streets.
You shifted, uncomfortably shifted as you tried to play it off. “Nothing, I’m-“
“And I’m me, so don’t try lie.”
Rolling your eyes like a petulant child, you crossed your arms as you sunk further into the seat. It was easy done, you’d discarded your vest the minute you got in the car, unable to cope with the way it was suffocating you.
“Spencer, just leave it.”
It was his turn to roll his eyes, you couldn’t see it through his sunglasses but you could tell by the way his face rose and fell. He sucked in a deep breath before deciding someone needed to go first.
“You were too quick to get away from me as soon as we arrived and then spent the whole debrief staring at me like you either wanted me under you or dead- so what is it?”
That might’ve been the quickest anyone’s ever been profiled.
All part of the ordeal of being known, being so well known.
You shifted your gaze just enough to check if he was letting it go, sure enough, he was still switching between you and the road. It’s never over.
Absolutely you could tell him, you could just lay it all out and absolutely he’d be fine with it. But there was still such a sick knot in your stomach about having to fess up.
Weighing up your options (one of which included throwing open the car door) you saw movement out the corner of your eye.
Spencer’s free hand left his thigh and came to rest on the top of his vest, pulling it down slightly as he did it and drawing even more attention to the definition of his forearm.
“It’s the vest,” The words literally fell out of your mouth. “I want- need to fuck you with the vest on.”
You half expected him to crash the car. It would’ve made sense if he’d slammed on the breaks or even swerved a little. But he didn’t.
Spencer kept the car straight, eyes steadily moving to your face as he slowly raised an eyebrow.
“Yeah?”
Everything had gone quiet, like the world had stopped spinning. All you could hear was his simple question and maybe the odd voice in your head telling you this was a bad idea.
Thankfully, his voice was louder.
The moment his eyes went back on the road, his hand came off the vest to use his turn signal. He was pulling off down a trail road, industrial with an old factory at the base of it.
You knew it was abandoned, nobody had been there for years- it was on the map he’d annotated for the team at the beginning of this case.
Without a word, Spencer pulled up beside the building and the long grass. He put the car into park and removed his sunglasses before he ran a steady hand through his hair.
You’d been watching it all, slightly turned in your seat and studying his every move. There was no way you could help it. There was no way God could give you a man that looked like that and expect you to be normal about it.
All of a sudden, you saw Spencer reach beneath his seat. It rolled back slowly until he had a significant space between himself and the steering wheel.
Still, with no words exchanged, he brought his hand back to his thigh to pat it once- then twice. It was like a natural reaction for you, picking yourself up and scrambling across the centre console until you were situated in his lap.
Your fingers immediately closed around the straps of the vest, pulling him into you so your lips could meet with his. Spencer wasted no time in having his tongue in your mouth, immediately establishing his place.
It should’ve been embarrassing, pathetic really, the way your hips began to roll into his the minute he touched you. Large hands ran up your back, under your shirt and igniting your skin.
The vest was firm against your chest, almost keeping him from you but giving you exactly what you wanted. Pressing your forehead to his, you opened your eyes to get a good look at him under you.
He’d said you wanted one or the other.
You felt Spencer’s lips working up the front of your throat, teeth gently nipping at the skin as his hands worked down to the waistband of your pants.
You weren’t sure if he’d been as impatient as you- it was more likely you could give him a look any time of day and he’d be dropping to whatever position you needed him in. He was good that way.
As your hands splayed against the front of his vest, slowing inching down further as you continued to hump his lap- feeling him somehow getting even harder beneath you.
“Spencer-“ Your voice sounded breathy, desperate for him. “They’re gonna’ be back at the office soon.”
You heard him chuckle, the sound leaving his lips and reverberating off your throat. He nodded, just a little as his fingers began to work on the front of your pants.
He shuffled his hips forward, sinking down a bit further and giving you better access to his belt- the one you immediately began to undo.
“This is all for you, baby,” He sighed, feeling your hand reach into his pants. “You take whatever you need.”
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