#I don’t really know what to do with myself

[luveline]

oooh what about hotch's sister calling spencer to pick her up at the hospital after an accident or something because she doesn't want hotch to know since worry and go into protective big brother mode, but spencer tells him anyway and they both show up and lots of fluff ensues :)

adopted fem!reader, 1.5k

cw for panic attacks

You should call your brother. 

You think about it, even pull up his contact, he’s the first person you go to when you need help and he always has been, but lately Aaron has been so stressed you hesitate, clicking the text button by mistake. 

You read back his last message. 

I can feel myself being spread too thin but there’s nothing I can do to fix it, he’d text. I guess I’m frustrated. But how are you, working girl? New jobs are scary. I bet you’re doing better than you think already. Jack and I are super proud of you

You’d sent him a meagre response. You aren’t always sure what to say to him. Sincerity is easier in person, but even then, he can be terse and deflective; he looks after you and no one looks after him. 

You didn’t tell him about work, and you won’t tell him about now. You call Spencer instead. This is a good way to test the almost dating thing, right? 

He doesn’t answer. When you call again, he answers on the first ring. “Hey, are you okay?” 

“No. Are you busy?” 

“I’m not busy if you’re not okay. Two seconds.” There’s a pause where you assume he’s moving from one place to another, perhaps closing a book around his hand, or closing the lid on an early lunch. “What’s wrong?” 

“I’m, uh, in hospital. I had a huge panic attack at work and I… thought I was having a heart attack, so I–” You’re so embarrassed your voice turns to a thread. “Sorry, I know it’s so stupid.” 

“It’s not stupid, that’s not stupid. How do you feel now?” 

“Like someone hit me really hard in the chest.” 

“Are you calmed down?” 

“Mostly.” You wince. “They want to talk to me about medications. Uh.” You clear your throat. “I want to go home.” 

“Angel… I’m on my way, okay? I’ll get Hotch and–”

“You can’t tell him.” 

“What?” 

“Please, Spencer, he gets so worried, he’s worried enough. And if he finds out I had a panic attack he’ll try and make me take time off of work and that’s just another thing on his plate he didn’t ask for–”

“Hey, hey, hey,” he says softly, “please don’t panic. You’ve had a hard morning, panicking again is really gonna hurt. Try and think about things that don’t wind you up, alright? Is there anything you need me to get?” 

“You don’t have to come.” 

“That’s why you called me, right? I’ll be there.” 

You can’t know that he says goodbye and ducks straight back into Hotch’s office, where he’d been, to tell on you. It’s not to hurt you and it isn’t because you told him not to —it’s two parts concern, and one part self preservation. Aaron needs to know and you need him with you, and he also can’t imagine things going well for himself if he kept the news of your stay a secret. The shovel talk plays in his mind. 

Aaron’s shovel talk being, You won’t do anything to hurt her, said simply, and with an impassive expression that bordered terrifying. Not overly unaffected, just casual. 

You’re laying in your hospital bed with your hands clasped across your stomach when Spencer arrives. He frowns at you in your bed, worse when he sees your smudged makeup and the chafed inside of your wrist where you’ve picked and squeezed at your own skin. Your panic has left a physical mark, your chest aching as you force yourself to sit, and it hurts doubly so when your brother lets himself in behind your nearly-boyfriend.

You don’t have it in you to complain. 

“I’m sorry,” Spencer says, reaching down to give you a quick hug as you sit. “I had to tell him.” 

 Aaron’s hug is similarly apologetic, though much longer. “You weren’t gonna tell me?” he asks quietly, his hand settling at the place between your shoulders. “How do you feel now?” 

“I’m fine, I– I really thought I was having a heart attack.” 

“That’s common,” Spencer says, “it’s the feeling of impending doom, thousands of people mistake anxiety for medical issues every week.” 

Aaron holds you by the shoulders. “It’s okay,” he says. “Was it a doctor that checked you out, or a nurse?” 

Aaron probes the name of your nurse from you and promises to be back soon. He seems to have gleaned that the quickest way to get information today won’t be from you. 

Spencer goes in for another hug when he leaves, and then, to your delight, a very quick kiss pressed to your cheek. He ducks away after that and sits on the side of your hospital bed, his knuckles gracing the outside of your thigh. “Thank you for calling me,” he says, smiling at you, and better when you smile back.

“Thanks for coming.” 

“Of course. I know how it feels, okay? If they want to talk about medication it’s a good thing, but everyone has moments like this.” 

“I can’t believe you told Aaron,” you say, giving a weak but playful glare.

“I can’t believe you weren’t going to. He loves you, he wants to know what’s hurting you, no matter how much stuff is on his plate.” 

You bite the inside of your lip, contemplative for a few slow seconds. “You think so?” you ask finally. 

The hair flicked under his ears wobbles as he nods. “Absolutely.” 

You lean forward to readjust his collar and tie. He’s wearing one of his cutesy waistcoats, dark grey over a light blue shirt. His tie has patterns you trace with your thumb, like fish scales. “Sorry, I know you were working,” you murmur. 

“I think my boss will forgive me.” 

You let your hands fall. Spencer, perhaps picking up on a hint you hadn’t meant to give, takes them both into one of his and squeezes reassuringly. 

“It’s harder than I thought,” you confide softly. 

“It’s an adjustment period. But maybe it’s not right for you, there. That’s what started it, right? Your job.” 

“I’m not sure. I don’t know. I get panicky about all sorts of stuff, but I’ve never had one this bad before. I was a miserable kid, you can ask Aaron, but I really thought I was better.” 

He rubs over your fingers with his thumb. “I think we all have stuff that messes us up. Doesn’t mean you’re not better. You don’t even really have to be better. And I… I am here for you, I promise. I know you have no reason to trust me with it yet, but I’ll listen whenever you need me to.” 

You think about kissing him. Spencer kisses like he’s suffocating and your air, it’s cliche and undeniably true. Whenever you kiss him it’s like a shock —he steals your breath, he can’t stop himself from grabbing your face, and any other time you’d love it, but right now you just need a peck. You’re hoping he can do those kinds of kisses too. 

“Will you kiss me?” you ask tentatively.

He gets the memo on gentleness. You shouldn’t be surprised, your very first kiss was tame, his hand running up your arm as he encourages you forward. Your eyes shutter closed at the feeling of his lips on yours, and the exhausting thrumming that’s lived beneath your skin since you woke up numbs to a more manageable ache. 

Spencer breaks away. He cups your cheek quickly, dropping it immediately when the door opens. 

You shuffle backward nonchalantly. 

Aaron gives you a sarcastic look. Really? it says. I wasn't born yesterday. 

“They want to give you a prescription for Paxil, honey, what do you think?” He turns his attention to Spencer reluctantly. “What’s her best option here?” 

“Paxil could be fine. They didn’t suggest a benzodiazepine? Paxil is an SSRIs, it slows down the rate of serotonin reuptake, basically increasing the effectiveness of your bodies natural serotonin, which could decrease the risk of another attack, but taking it won’t stop her from feeling like this,” —he frowns at your location— “very quickly. Ideally she should have a medication for general anxiety and the option for quicker relief if this happens again.” He smiles at you suddenly, nearly shyly. “If that’s what you want, that is.” 

“What are you thinking, honey?” Aaron asks you. 

You have the two of them here to look after you while you decide. You take Spencer’s hand gently, desperate for reassurance. “I’m not sure.” 

“It’s okay, we’ll work it out,” your brother promises. 

Spencer squeezes your hand. 

[44st4rs]

THE ART OF TONGUE!

✫ ˚♡ ⋆｡ ❀ — pairings!  gojo, geto, nanami, toji, sukuna x fem!reader

✫ ˚♡ ⋆｡ ❀ — cw! 3.5k, drabble format, gojo and geto’s is 1.5k alone, 3some(?), squïrting, fingëring, begging, implications of overstimulation, teasing, c**t play, face sitting, spitting, explicit descriptions of oral

✫ ˚♡ ⋆｡ ❀ — xoxo, chris! ngl gojo and geto’s has a whole plot point, i don’t know how we got here but here we are cuties ;3

✫ ˚♡ ⋆｡ ❀ GOJO & GETOU —IS TWO A CROWD?

It was his idea, but you never thought your boyfriend, Gojo would act on it. Usually, he’s adamant about having you to himself, thanks to his tendency to be selfish.

It’s something you both talked about and he promises that he’ll work on it—but not like this.

“G-Gojo…are you sure about this?” you croak, harshly swallowing down that lump residing in your throat. You catch Gojo’s eyes as he kneels on the floor, leaning over the edge of the bed to bridge the gap between you both. 

“Yeah, baby. I said I wanna work on being better and not so selfish anymore. So…here’s Suguru to help me out!”

And here he is, Geto Suguru, your boyfriend’s best friend and most trusted confidant. He’s a nice guy, kind-hearted and kinder on the eyes. 

Especially now when he's wearing nothing but those black sweats hanging around his hips. You watch as he drops to his knees to sit beside Gojo.

"Hey, Pretty," he greets, brushing back the thick black strands of his hair from ruining his view of you.

When Gojo said to you a few days ago that he wanted to be more “open and sharing” you thought he meant with food, time, or even his stuff. 

Not your pussy.

“Um…so…h-hey, Baby. I just wanna know…how is this gonna help you be less selfish?” your voice rattling by nerves.

“Oh! Welllll, I was thinking to myself, what’s something I’m really protective over, and that “thing” turned into someone. And I realized it was you, I mean, I just love you so much, baby. But I know you said it can be suffocating to have me at your hip. So, I asked Geto to help me out with this and he was happy too!”

“O…okay…but that doesn’t explain—”

“Basically, Gojo wants to start breaking his selfish habits by sharing…well, you,” Geto summed up, earning a giddy grin from Gojo.

“Yeah! So don’t be shy, Angel. We’re gonna be extra kind with you. I think you’ll like it too,” Gojo purrs as his hand trails along the supple flesh of your trembling thigh. 

“So, go on 'nd spread your legs, Baby."

 A devastating heat swells beneath your cheeks as your legs expose your cunt to the men before you.  It’s embarrassing really, to have your sex life and Gojo’s habits blur in an instant. The only silver lining comes in the form of his best friend, the very man whose onyx eyes marvel at your puffy lips.

“Sooo…whatcha think Suru’? Isn’t she just so pretty?!” Gojo smiles as he rests his hand on Geto’s shoulder.

The tips of Geto’s fingers brush past your folds, delicately prying the delicate sheets apart.

“She is! ‘nd she’s so fucking wet already…”Geto trails off as his eyes dart to your own. The flat of his tongue drags along his pink lips entices Geto's appetite, giving birth to that swirling pit sparking at his core.

His hands break away from its polite fold over his thighs to swarm you, a palm slipping along the underside of your thigh. Yet, the pads ghost the fragile scene, using hesitancy as his means of restraint.

He glazes his sights up your body. The silk robe's barely doing its job of hiding you away, your tits are just threatenig to spill out from behind the purple fabric.

He finally falls onto your face; obsidian hues studying every curve of your pretty features. But it's your eyes that draws him in, those dewy eyes batting

“Can I...touch you, Baby?” He finally gets out, biting back any more words that threaten his shattering composure.

"Mhm...it's fine," you nod, watching as a smile curls across Geto's lips.

"Thank you." The final words roll off his tongue before inching closer to your heat, the swarming warmth of his breath fanning over your bare cunt.

“Aww, she’s so cute,” He coos at your pussy. All he allows to delve into you is a gentle touch, the pad of his thumb sketching along your splayed pussy.

He can't get over it, how he's gotten so lucky to experience your pretty pussy like this. You're soft to the touch, so warm that he can feel all his woes melting away the second he slips past your sticky folds. And fuck, you're so sticky that he isn't holding back from enjoying the cute chimes of his thumb drifting about you, tracing right back to your clit.

Geto's far too close now, so close that his lips brush past your own puffy mounds, planting a fluttering trail that brings him to your quivering bud.

“Let me know if you don’t like something, ‘kay Baby,” He assures with a hand set to knead the underside of your thigh.

“Oh, and Satoru?” Geto donning a sly smirk as he pays Gojo one final glare.

“Yeah?”

“You won’t be mad if I…accidentally make her cum…will you?”

Gojo rolls his eyes, “Tsk, whatever. But you might wanna tie your hair back… it's gonna get a little messy.”

“Don’t need to, I think it adds to the ambiance.”

Geto’s smirk fades as his tongue mellows against your clit, sending bubbly spools of spit to wade down your folds. He’s quick to twirl that slicked muscle around, cursing your glistening pearl with twitches. 

He digs that much deeper, forcing your perky bud to bear the languid drag of his tongue. Just like that, he’s got your clit under his control, pulling away to watch your clit perk up.

“Oh,” Geto hums, “You taste so good on my tongue, Pretty…”

He’s just so gentle when he’s taken back down, his tongue lulling along the throbbing trench of your folds. His artful strokes pits him before the tight pout of your hole, gummy gasps clinging to the flat of Geto’s touch, And who is he to deny you? He’s made a promise to treat you kindly and that’s exactly what he plans to do when he dips the tip of his tongue against your entrance. 

“Haah, ohmygod Geto—”

“Suguru, baby, don’t be so formal,” Geto grins, his sights flickering between you and your cunt. “Feels good, right? I know it does, but ‘m not done with you.”

Your teary eyes fall onto Gojo. He’s soothing you with a hand on your thigh, his slender digits brushing along your flushed skin. How could he stand for this? Was he really okay with you being split apart and exposed like this, watching his best friend make a mess out of you?

Until those tears ripple down your cheek and you get a clear view of Gojo. Him and the broad chest he's parading around just like his best friend. Him and those taut muscles rippling benenth his porcelain skin—him clenching down on his jaw. 

Pity stains the forefront of your mind. Poor baby, Gojo's trying so hard to stay calm. But you know his antics by now. When he's wearing furrowed brows, clenching his jaw, and holding in each breath just a second longer than normal...he was getting antsy. it didn't help that he had an unfiltered lens to watch how Geto’s tongue dances about your pussy without care.

Maybe all he needs is a little...encouragement,

“Fuck! 'Toru, please?” you whimper out, pushing out a pout you know he won't ignore, “ I want you too!”

“Me?” Gojo dumbly asks as he points to himself. "You really miss me already, Angel?”

"Mhm," you nod feverishly, "Please?"

Eagerly, Gojo taps Geto’s shoulder, “Well you heard my lady, Suguru. She wants—”

“I see why you’re selfish, she tastes so sweet. And ‘m liking having her clit in my mouth. Why don’t we…take her on at the same time?”

“That’s fine with me,” Gojo shrugs. He pays you a glance, his soft crystalline hues scanning your face.

“How’s that sound, Angel? You just gotta spread your legs a liiiitle more…”

You follow along with Gojo’s words, your legs drifting apart until Gojo’s able to slot his head right beside Geto. 

“Wow, you’ve made a real mess of her! Gojo marvels, his thumb pulling back the puffy lip of your pussy.

Geto pulls back, his hand cupping the underside of your thigh. “No, that’s all her, Satoru. Guess she likes me too,” 

“‘Course she does…but let me get her to myself first,” Gojo mumbles out before he smothers himself in your bliss. 

Gojo greets your pussy with a kiss, his lips peppering pecks all over the puffy hood. Geto’s nice and all, but Gojo knows exactly what you need. He knows that you like those soft kisses, that trails right down to your slit and back up to your clit.

He knows how wet that gets you too, but he wants you dripping for him, call it his homecoming from being away from your pussy. So he’s preparing himself by tugging back the hood of your clit, compelling the poor bud to the battering flicks his tongue rains down. 

But he’s so caught up in the spry heat sinking into his senses, that he’s forgetting the reason behind such dramatics. Why he’s so caught up that he didn’t even notice himself delving that much deeper into you, his chin dressed in a veil of your slick.

Your hips pick up against his mouth when it’s too much for you to take, sporadically bucking along Gojo’s working tongue. And he lets you have your way too, it’s what he loves about eating your cute little cunt. He loves watching you crack beneath a few teasing flicks, just for his tongue to sink past your folds and dwell in your sweet elixir.

“She just keeps on getting wetter,” Geto groans as he keeps a watchful eye on Gojo, “But…what happens if we suck on her clit?”

“Hmmm..let’s find out.” Gojo hints.

Geto’s words don’t get the chance to simmer in your mind, not when the two men are two steps ahead of you when they press their blush-ridden cheeks flush against each other. Thankfully, they didn’t need you to think—they just need you to cum.

The puffy pout of their lips quickly settles over your clit, toiling with ushering your swollen bead into their care. But you’re split between then again, your poor pearl bearing the suckling flux of their greed. Gojo’s so gentle, using pools of his spit to spill around your bundle of nerves. It’s messy, the loud squelches of Gojo’s lips strumming at the swell of your clit.

But Geto’s the real tease. He’s so endowed in you that his head bobs along with his worked jaw. He enlists in the aid of his tongue too, the stiffened tip relentlessly scrolling over the bud of the throbbing button.  

All their efforts only pull that shivering heat to overwhelm your core, your pussy spitefully ruining their bare chest in your spewing essence.

“Oh…fuck!” you sob, your back arching off the bed. 

The two men pull away from you, gawking at the glossy fixture made between your legs—your swollen clit, puffy folds, and the timid current of your honey trailing from your entrance. 

“Aw no, I was having fun. Did you cum already, Angel?” Gojo pouts as he nuzzles his cheek into your inner thigh. 

“N-No,” you shudder, “That was just…a-a lot fr’ me.”

“Good…”Geto chuckles, turning to Gojo.

A proposal pops into Gojo’s mind. It’s a selfish one—riddled with the same nasty habit he’s trying to break. And one day, he’ll finally get it…one day.

“Hey, Suru…wanna do it again?”

✫ ˚♡ ⋆｡ ❀ NANAMI—SLOW AND STEADY WINS THE RACE!

Time, time, time, that’s all Nanami wants and that’s all he gets when it comes to you.

He loves taking his sweet time with you after he’s rid of the day from his mind and gets the chance to soak up bliss right between your legs. If he could, Nanami would be laid up like this every day, using his tongue to inscribe the sweetest of scriptures into your cute little gem. 

So when Nanami does get his wish, he doesn’t want you to do a thing. Not to lift a finger, to raise a hand—why, he doesn’t even want you to move.

He’s got everything, all the details, all the responsibility…all the control in his grasp. He just wants you feel good, his sweet little wife. But you have a way with him, using those cute pleas to break away from the goals he’d set in place for the night.

But not tonight, not while he holds the reigns of fate taut in his palms.

That’s why he’s having you sit on his face while his hands brace your thighs, relying on those strong muscles he’s worked hours for to keep you at bay.

He prays you aren’t mad at him, it’s just that Nanami likes to keep himself close to you. He loves taking you like this, for his every sense to be overwhelmed by you. It isn’t enough to taste you, no, he wants to breathe you in, feel every twitch that claims your cunt, to hear the lewd squelches of your pussy sobbing on his tongue. 

And if you remember, tonight he plans on taking his sweet ol’ time with you—which means you’ll have to bear all his antics. 

Just like now, you have to accept the way his tongue bats your clit so lazily. 

Skimming over your silky folds, taunting your pillowy bud to dance to his song—He can’t help it when you’re just so soft to the touch. 

But there does come a time when his tongue gets too sore and he needs a break. When that time does set in, Nanami’s too excited to nuzzle his lips over your clit. He’s trapping those spry nerves between a pucker that’s ready to suckle at your building heat.

And he does just that; encircling his lips to work that pink bulb into a lazy tide. It’s cute to him having a front-row seat to your timely demise. Every flick and twirl he etches into you weaken the pout on your lips and welcomes a spill of babbles to dress the air. It’s all incoherent, but he knows what every single sob means for the welling pit in your tummy. 

But with all his teasing, comes a mess that he’s going to have to take responsibility for— his chin dipping into the milky stream of your nectar. 

He isn’t one to be wasteful. So when the lewd nectar of his spit and your essence threaten to seep from the corners of his lips, he’s got no choice but to slurp down every drop. And he isn’t one for the dramatics, but each gulp resonates deep within his chest as if he’s found his heavenly oasis at last.

“Ooooh fuck! Ken, don’t tease me so much! I wanna cum already!” you squeal, your lips donning a soft pout.

As a special reward, he gets to hear his sweet girl cry out for that crashing high you so desperately desire. And he’s planning to give it to you, but he just needs to remind you one last thing before he does.

“Don’t curse, Baby. Use your words,” he’s grinning too, almost chuckling at the frustration brewing across your features when he steals a glance at you. 

Those pretty doe eyes batting away tears he knows are coming, your plucked brows furrowed, and you lips, oh your lips twisted up into such a frown that…it’s just turning Nanami on more. 

“Well…” he utters along your inner thigh, “I’m waiting.”

✫ ˚♡ ⋆｡ ❀ TOJI—LOOK MA! NO HANDS!

Toji’s got big hands. Not just any kind of hands—worked hands.

Long, thick digits that wear years of work as rough skin and callouses. But even with some years on his hands, he’s still as lithe as ever. His fingers made work quick of any and every task

But there’s something about his fingers that you love—the girth.

The girth of his fingers can stretch you out just enough for his cock to ruin you, hit your sweet spot with shameful ease, and can trace over your clit without a lick of hesitation. He knows how much you love his fingers, but every now and then, you need a reminder of the skills his tongue carries.

Just like now, he’s pinning you beneath the heat of that reminder by painting your pussy in sloppy kisses. 

Sloppy kisses that have to drip down the ridges of his chin and jaw. Sloppy kisses that stain his skin white. Sloppy kisses that can't be contained to the confines of his mouth.

Sloppy kisses that always end with that echoing pop of his lips. 

It’s crazy to Toji how wet he’s gotten you from something so simple. He’s barely even started, nowhere near scratching the surface of his plans for you.

But maybe it’s because he’s calling it a kiss, but that's just the farthest thing from the truth. Toji isn't just kissing you, he's drinking you too, using your poor clit like a straw to quench his thirst. his lips don’t just settle over your heat. His lips are hard at work nursing your clit, relishing the frazzling streaks that spark across the flat of his tongue. 

And he’s cursing in his mind at how good it feels to have to warm his mouth, how good it feels to play with your poor cunny. But that isn’t enough, his tongue’s waiting to put on a show too. 

But that’s in due time.

And through all this, his hands clip to your waist like a belt, the pads of his fingers digging deep into your skin. It’s a little harsh, but it’s for a good cause that he swears by.

Because what’s a better cause than having you cum on his tongue?

And you’re so close that the sheer anticipation wrecks through your body with shivers. But there’s a line that Toji needs to keep you behind—trapping you in a corner with no choice but to beg. 

“Fuuuuck, Toji please! Just a finger! I need more—”

It’s so cute to hear you cry out for more, but that’s the greed Toji’s working out of you. And he hears you, he knows you need more, but that’s simply something he can’t act on.

Toji’s head shakes at your plea, denying your pitiful request with ease. But he’s even involving your clit in the reply to you, his lips clinging to the puffy hood. Your poor clit has to follow every feverish tilt Toji takes on, the swelling heat consuming your core.  

You can’t take it and he knows it, a fact that he dismisses every time your hips jolt beneath him. You try so hard to run away and he appreciates the little game of cat and mouse to welcome you into the scene, but what kind of a man would he be if he couldn’t contain you beneath a firm grip? 

A grip so strong that every buck of your hips gets trapped into the mattress, Toji making little work of your rebellion.

And if he does have to use even an ounce of his strength, he’s simply using it to drag you right back to him and his grimacing mouth. 

Toji's wearing a grin when he finally breaks away from your pussy, his eyes darting to meet your own. 

“Sorry mama, that’s too easy,” his sights falling back to your glistening folds, “Now, stop moving or else ‘m just gonna edge you all night!”

✫ ˚♡ ⋆｡ ❀ SUKUNA—TAKE WHAT YOU'RE GIVEN!

There’s a certain standard that Sukuna holds both you and himself to when it comes to eating you out. He has a means to execute these standards, relying on methods that aren’t suitable for everyone.

He loves to push your limits, not because he gets a kick out of seeing you whimper out silly pleas, but because he knows that you’ll exceed his expectations. 

That’s why Sukuna starts out so strong, having you lay on your tummy inches from the edge of the bed with your ass in the air. He swears you feel it more, thanks to some research that he never cares to explain.

When he does decide that it’s time to execute his methods, he’s bringing his greedy lips to ghost past your sopping wet pussy, trading up the bedroom’s air for your honeyed fumes. Oh, he loves to see you like this, that well-trained arch leaving nothing hidden from his eye. He can hinge on the succulent contours of your cute pussy, his eyes tracing over the timeless medium of pink and brown hues.  

When he gets past all the gawking, he plants those thick digits around your hips and leaves all the work of stretching your folds apart to his thumbs. God, you’re dripping, still dripping from your gasping slit that's glazing over your cunt like a rippling tide. You’re making such a mess out of yourself, one that he can’t wait to clean up.

He loves to focus on that pretty bud of yours by sealing your clit up behind a suckling pout. There’s a bliss that douses Sukuna’s mind when he sucks you like this, having your clit swell in his care. He's driven drunk by in your heat, every last drop that leaves you so soft and plump that moment he breaks away with a wet click of his lips.

“Ryo…c’mom! I-I can’t take anymore! Stop being so mean!” you sob, lithe hands clenching at the bed’s gray duvet for relief.

“Stop all that crying, you’re going to cum…eventually.”

He knows you can hear it, his fingers partaking in the lewd symphony. He didn’t start toying with your sweet spot yet and you’re already ruining the pretty blanket beneath you in nothing but expectation. But you made a certain remark—him being mean? Sukuna being mean to you?

A hiss cuts through his teeth. “Besides…me being mean?” 

His eyes fall back to your cunt, hinging on the opal rivulets spill from your gasping hole. The trail each tear takes on leads them to coil around your puffy clit, twinkling in the moonlight as a final hurrah before meeting its splattered demise on the blanket. 

If only you knew just how mean it was of you to give him such an image to play back in his head.

“Oh baby, if I’m being so mean…then why are you making such a mess?”

[delfiore]

—SAD TO BREATHE (THE AIR WHEN YOU'RE NOT THERE).

pairing: aitana bonmatí x uswnt!reader

synopsis: aitana leaves for the international break and you become a mopey little shit.

word count: 1.1k

a/n: something short and sweet to get me back into the writing groove. the final inspired me this. and yk what this was nice, writing fluff ... is nice (sometimes).

It was embarrassing, really, the way you moped.

Unapologetically, you pouted and rolled around on the couch, convulsing and whining the way a child would beg for more candy. You would be convulsing and whining standing up if you weren’t so hung over from all the alcohol and clubbing you had done the past two days (most of which was justified, most of it).

“Do you have to go?” You knew the answer to that. In your mind, you looked very convincing. You’d hoped Aitana would notice and take pity on you and spare you a glance amidst her running around the house to pack.

“Amor, I’ll be back in two weeks.” Then she switched to Catalan. “[Plus you’re going soon too anyway.]”

It was true that the USWNT camp would assemble tomorrow, but that was one more day you would have liked to spend with Aitana after all the chaos of the Champions League weekend. The whirlwind of Barcelona’s victory has left little time for you to be alone with her. As soon as the match was over, the celebrations began, and Carla and the media team deemed that most of it should be on record. You wanted to be with your girlfriend so badly, but with Aitana dutifully attending to Carla’s every PR need, you were left pouting and giving her sad puppy eyes long before this morning.

“But-but—” you groaned as another wave of the pounding headache hit you, and you lay back down on the cushions.

“You see, this is why you shouldn’t drink so much.” She said, standing in front of you for a second to check that you weren’t going to vomit everywhere on the new couch.

“I’m sleepy. Come cuddle, please.”

You watched her stuff another pair of pants into the suitcase that lay open in the middle of the living room. “I didn’t ask you to get up with me.” She didn’t look amused. Somehow, it spurred you on even more, to know that she was having none of your shit but still engaged.

“But I always notice when you’re not in bed with me,” you whined again. “Can’t sleep after that.”

Aitana shook her head, barely acknowledging your predicament, scanning her suitcase, then went back upstairs.

With Herculean willpower, you stood up and followed her up the stairs. You stopped at the door of your shared bedroom, watching her collect her things from the en-suite bathroom.

“It’s just, I’m gonna miss you,” you said pathetically, “a lot.”

You didn’t know why, but this particular stint between this upcoming international break and the last felt much longer than others. It might have had something to do with the many things that happened during it—the many trophies that, looking back, you thought the team must have been running on crack to have won all of them whilst keeping yourselves fit and sane. In the middle of all that, you had Aitana, and she had you. The spotlight wasn’t easy, but it was alright because you both had each other to return to at the end of the night.

Finally, your pout must have worked because Aitana set her toiletry bag down on the counter when she met your eyes in the mirror. “Oh, amor. Why are you acting like a child?”

You didn’t care that you were; you just wanted your girlfriend to hold you before duties take her away.

Resting your head on her shoulder, you let out a sigh of desperation when she put her arms around your waist.

“I’m gonna die here, all alone, all by myself, and you don’t even care.”

“You’re not going to die, Y/N,” Aitana scoffed, but she held you closer. “[I’m sorry we didn’t spend much time together after the match]. Winning is exhausting, sí?”

You blew a raspberry. “Can’t wait for this season to be over.”

“No, you don’t, because then it means we’re going to the Olympics.”

You groaned, and plopped yourself onto the bed. “I don’t like playing against you.”

Aitana giggled, the sound floating like music in your ears. “Why? Scared you’ll lose?”

“Excuse you!” You put your hands on your hips. “I’m calling it, you guys versus us in the final. Better start practicing those free kicks.” You grinned and pulled her close, bumping your nose against her stomach.

“We’ll see.” When she leaned down to kiss you, you were ready and puckered your lips, but Aitana had the audacity to evade you and pecked your forehead instead.

She grabbed your chin and finally bestowed on your lips the kiss that you had been yearning for.

It’s not ever easy to let down your defenses, but with Aitana it felt so easy to do so. You never thought you’d ever be this lucky, certainly not two years ago, when you first transferred to Barcelona and Aitana started consuming your every thought. From the moment you laid eyes upon that beautiful smile and her unstinting kindness, you knew you were gone.

The memory of your first meeting lingered in your mind as your girlfriend dragged her suitcase towards the front door.

“I’ll call you when I get to camp,” she said.

“You promise?”

“Yes, promise. Now come here.” Her hands found yours and tugged you forward as you grinned. How could you not smile when her face was so close to yours? “I love you.”

You cupped her face and kissed her softly. “T’estimo.”

“Don’t be too sad, okay? It will go by quickly.” At least she pitied you enough to reassure you.

As you watched her get into her Uber, you could only wish she was right.

Aitana kept her promise and FaceTimed you once she had settled at camp a few hours later. The conversation didn’t last long, as she had to go quickly after that.

“I’m sorry,” you remembered saying.

“For what, my love?”

“For being clingy,” you laughed and shrugged. “I don’t know . . .”

It was a surprise, then, after you had packed your things for your early flight back to the States that night, that she called you again before you went to bed.

“Babe, is everything alright?” You had feared the worst when she texted you.

Are you still awake? Can we talk?

Super cryptic.

“Yes, everything is good.” After a quick pause, she said, “I couldn’t sleep. I miss you.”

A large grin crept onto your lips. “Well well well, how the tables have turned.”

As you heard a groan on the other side of the phone, you laughed, and thanked your lucky star above that you had someone like Aitana to look forward to coming home to.

[bpdnpd]

Hi I’m Trae and I need 500 USD to pay off some medical bills i falsely assumed was covered by my insurance

Long story short. I started therapy at a facility that told me they took my insurance. They in fact do not. I owe now 500 dollars and I have maybe 40 dollars in my actual name at the moment. Rent is due, my phone bill is due and my electric bill is do very soon so I know no time or money to pay this off myself. I can use any help possible. I’m glad I caught this now: I will be searching for a new therapy office soon if my therapist herself confirms she cannot independently take my insurance. Until then, I really really need help. Every single cent counts. So please help IF POSSIBLE. If not that is ok-just spread.

I ALSO HAVE OPEN COMMISSIONS!! If that is something you’d be interested in. ^-^

Also do not tag this post as anything related-I don’t want this post hidden.

0/500 5/29/24

[unboundprompts]

Can you give tips for slow burn/developing romance? I’m good at writing couples once they’re already in love, but when they have a crush on each other or them slowly developing feelings I don’t really know how to do

How to Write a Slow Burn Romance

-> writersdigest.com

-> reddit.com

The Growing Relationship

Make sure the reasons your characters don't get together right away makes sense. It doesn't need to be realistic, but it needs to be believable.

Focus on how their relationship grows. Spend time on the meeting, the getting to know each other, the subtle moments and big moments that draw them to each other. There will be obstacles, arguments, and conflicts to solve.

Make the development of the relationship natural for the characters.

Start as far back in their relationship as you can. This will allow the longest amount of time for their relationship to be exploired in the story. If it fits, you can start when they first meet. Of course, if it doesn't fit your story, you can start later in their relationship.

Build the Tension

You want your readers to be on the edge of their seats when it comes to your character's relationship. They should be screaming "just kiss already!"

Add near-miss moments. An almost kiss interrupted by a phone call. A hug that lasts just a moment too long.

Add little indications of feelings. Soft Smiles. Winking. The brush of a finger. Lingering glances.

Pining. Give insights into your character's thoughts. Constant thoughts about the other person. Butterflies when they think about them. The anticipation.

Slow Burn, Not Slow Pace

There needs to be other plot points happening while the romantic tension is building. Your characters should be dealing with other situations while they are also pining after each other.

Outside Forces

Slowburns are not always endless pining and dancing around one another. Sometimes, there are outside forces that are keeping characters apart when they already realize that the feelings are mutual.

Examples: Distance between the characters, health/mental health reasons, job/work complications, family dynamics, character goals, characters are on two different sides of a conflict, etc.

If you like what I do and want to support me, please consider buying me a coffee! I also offer editing services and other writing advice on my Ko-fi! Become a member to receive exclusive content, early access, and prioritized writing prompt requests.

I also have a Patreon! Become a member to gain access to a Member's Only Community where you can chat and message other members and myself. Also gain access to my personal writing, which includes completed short stories, chapters from novels in progress, as well as completed scenes.

[mouvs]

My last uni final exam is in 2 days and I’m actually stressed the fuck out, so to take my mind off it I’m requesting this because the longer I keep starting at my lecture notes the more I’m getting the urge to cry soo here I am anyway can you do joost with female reader and she’s been a more distant towards him and when he asks if she’s ok she lies saying she’s fine but he knows her better than that so he comes over to find her studying knowing she hasn’t gotten sleep or properly eaten in days and she starts crying from the stress and just comforts her, maybe runs her a bath, gets her food, and then plays with her hair till she falls asleep. Don’t feel pressure to do it if you don’t want to and make sure to take care of your self!

Aawww thanks for the request sorry im a bit late to it hope your exam went well love🩷

Take care - joost klein

Its been a few days since joost has had a proper conversation with you as he looked at your latest text messages, he was quite busy himself so it took him a second to see how dry and short you were over texts. He got the sense something wasn’t right, making him feel a little anxious as he decided to stop by.

With a bouquet flowers in his hands he rang your doorbell, shuffling on his feet and playing with the string of his earbuds as he waited for you to open.

He heard a load groan on the other side of the door before it opened “oh joost hi” you sounded surprised “i didn’t know you were coming” you said as you looked at the flowers in his hand.

“I wanted to come check on you ya know see how you are” he said, presenting you the flowers “for you” he said with a big grin showing his theet as he gave you the biggest smile.

“Aw thank you love” you mumbled as you wrapped your arms around his neck, holding him close “thats really sweet” you whisper in his ear.

As you let him in you went to put the flowers in a vase as joost looked around your appartement.

“Are you sure your doing okay?” He asks, looking around to see your place.. kind of neglected as clothes and other stuff spread around everywhere. You sigh sitting at the kitchen counter bend over your laptop again as you cover your face in your hands. “Ive been busy” you mumble.

“Whats up?” He nonchalantly says as he hovers over you. You lean your head on your arms as you sigh again. “Its to much stress these exams, i have to study so much and i feel like i cant do enough or im to dumb or ill have a black out, did you know i have to do a whole ass presentation?” You sounded more upset by the second as you raised your head to look at him in disbelief.

“Thirty fucking minutes joost what the fuck am i even going to do and i cant even take care of myself at the same time i haven’t eaten a meal in days i mean look at this place” you let out frustrated as you stare at your laptop again.

“Hey babe no” he shushes as his hands caressed your shoulders “your not dumb we’ve been over this you got this dont let the stress cloud your head like that, you gotta stay positive and ask for help when u need it alright i can help you out with… this..?” He said questionable as he pointed at all the words on your screen, making you let out a giggle as you pouted at him.

You sighed “no your right im not dumb its just to much joost” you mumble as you lean into his chest.

“Look since i know you pretty well, lets go over your exam for tomorrow and THEN take a break alright ill take good care of you” he said firmly kissing your cheek before he sat on the chair beside you sliding the laptop infront of him.

He squeezed his eyes and made a few faces as he looked at all of it. “Okay tell you what you explain this shit to me and if i understand it then you pass” he said flashing you his signature grin as he gave you the laptop back making you giggle while you rolled your eyes.

Lets just say it took a little while… joost couldn’t possibly focus on all those hard terms coming out of your mouth as he just mindlessly admired you and giggled when u scolded him to pay attention.

-

“Hmmm why don’t you take a nice bath while i try to make dinner for us” he said as he looked in all the cabinets of your kitchen.

“What if you blow up my house?” You said raising an eyebrow while turning to him. He gave you a mad face “no i will not blow up your house y/n” he chuckled “if you say so sweetie” you sang as you joined.

The evening ended with the two of you in the couch eating pasta joost made that was actually quite good. You gave him lots of compliments making the boy blush and smile at you like a little boy.

You laid in his lap as you watched your favourite show, his hand in your hair as you enjoyed the comfort and warmth of your boyfriend finally feeling relaxed. “Thank you” you whispered

“Anytime sweetheart” he said, kissing the top of your head.

[freyadragonlord]

Stolas and Blitz’s relationship is a really well written misunderstanding plot, and here’s why 

I didn’t exactly have bad expectations about the Full Moon episode, yet I find myself pleasantly surprised by just how well the show handled the final confrontation between Stolas and Blitz. It was perfectly tragic and, most importantly, it perfectly fits how their relationship was built up to this point.

But how did Stolas get to this point?

Stolas has been starved for love since he was a child. His father only knew how to buy Stolas’ stuff to distract him from his distress (whenever Paimon bothered to even be around). Stolas’ wife – whom he did not choose – disdained him and did not miss a chance to humiliate him. He used to have a good relationship with his daughter, even though things got more complicated as she grew up and started to realize that her parents hate each other; but having your own child love you isn’t the same as having someone love you because you are you.

And then, out of nowhere, This Guy whom he considers his first friend - someone who was at the center of one of the best memories from his childhood - sneaks into his house and tries to seduce him!! Needless to say, Stolas is taken by surprise!

He even tries to talk to Blitz at first, and asks him about his life. He wants a connection, but Blitz just kinda pushes Stolas on his bed and starts doing sexy things to him, while dodging his questions. And, well, Stolas has never had good sex before that moment! His only experience is with a woman who does not like him and whom he doesn’t like. He gets swept away! Turns out, kinky sex really does it for him, and Blitz just Keeps Going all night!

Now, we don’t get to see how Stolas reacted when he figured out that Blitz was there to steal his book. The next thing we know (which is actually the first time the audience is introduced to Stolas) is that he is determined not to let that night with Blitz be the last. And who knows, even if Blitz had an ulterior motive for that first night, Stolas could still have a chance to seduce him! But how to do that? Well, the only thing Stolas knows about Blitz is that he really seemed to be into kinky sex and dirty talk…. So, Stolas goes for that!

After a while, though, he realizes it isn’t working. Plus, as much as the sex is good, what he really wants from Blitz is romance! So, he tries changing his approach, he introduces the idea of dates, of staying at home without fucking… But every time Stolas tries to change things, Blitz is resistant.

Stolas has many flaws. He is unaware of his privilege, he can be entitled, too self-centered… but one thing he is not, at least, is clueless about his own feelings. Stolas knows he loves Blitz, he knows he wants them to be together, and so he spends a long time trying to figure out how to confess, how to convince Blitz that his feelings are sincere…

In a way, it’s all that planning that dooms him. He spends so much time thinking things over, finding the perfect words, the perfect selfless act to confess to Blitz and set him free, that he does not realize that his confession will come out of nowhere for Blitz. And that Blitz will not have had hours and hours to rehearse his own reaction!

To be fair to him, Blitz truly is spectacularly clueless – to the level that it’s difficult to understand, without knowing his history - when it comes to his own feelings…

Right, how did Blitz get to this point?

The first time Blitz met Stolas, as a child, Blitz’s father had literally sold him as entertainment, and then ordered Blitz to steal from Stolas' house. “Go make yourself useful for once.” “It’s what those rich privileged fuckers deserve.”

Blitz grows up in an environment where his own father prefers another child to him. His only worth to his dad is to be a trading card, and to be an instrument to get rich.

Blitz doesn’t grow completely without love, tho! He knows what it is like to be loved. He has a best friend, his twin sister, his mother… And then he manages to lose all three of them in one single, spectacular accident. And it was an accident! But it was also his fault. And that’s the night Blitz learns that nobody can love him for long, because he does not deserve it. Even if someone did care for him, eventually they will realize he is worthless and dangerous.

Blitz hates himself.

Still, he does what he has to do to survive, and he goes on.

Years pass, and Blitz is trying to achieve his oldest dream, the dream to be his own boss, to lead a successful business, to prove that he can do something right. He needs Stolas’ book to achieve his dream, so what? It’s what those rich privileged fuckers deserve. He can make himself useful for once.

Does Blitz understand that it’s not Stolas himself who bought him all those years ago, but rather his father? It doesn’t really matter in the end, the only thing that’s important is that he knows that if he distracts Stolas enough, it’s not that hard to steal from him. If he sells himself, he can get anything out of Stolas.

The sex an accident, in the end. Stolas suggests Blitz is there to seduce him (Stolas is joking, but Blitz doesn't realize that), so Blitz goes for that. He bites Stolas’ neck to distract him from the theft, and Stolas reacts to that! Blitz can use this! He just happens to encourage Stolas when Stolas talks dirty to him, he doesn’t know he’s the one planting the idea in Stolas’ brain.

And Blitz could leave Stolas tied up and flee with the book, but at the end he feels bad. He decides to fuck Stolas after all, and well… That wasn’t so bad. He was supposed to do it “real fast”, but ends up spending the whole night!

Still, what if the sex was good? Stolas is still an entitled and powerful prince. And Stolas’ behavior in the following months only confirms that the other demon is just using him! And when Stolas’ actions start to change, well, surely that’s just some new kink, some new game…

Blitz constantly confirms his own biases, and he is incapable of seeing beyond them. He expects to be used because he has been used so many times, ever since he was a child. He doesn’t expect to be loved, because he doesn’t believe anyone can love him.

And if he starts to enjoy the time he spends with Stolas, at least sometimes, well….. That’s just the good sex. Plus, he feels powerful, when he’s fucking Stolas. Not only because Blitz dominates him in bed, but also because this is an arrangement he entered of his own free will, and he’s the one directly benefiting from it.

And! Isn’t it easier this way??? Relationships are messy! This arrangement, tho, no feelings involved, at all! He can push Stolas around as much as he wants, and Stolas will let him.

(Stolas cannot get hurt, after all.)

(He can get hurt??)

Blitz has many flaws. Being clueless about his feelings, and other people’s feelings, is maybe his biggest flaw. Stolas’ confession comes out of nowhere from him. He is confused. Nobody can love him, so it is a game, right?

It’s not a game. Where did this “confession” come from? He’s mad now. Stolas broke the rules, Stolas is using him again, somehow, Stolas… Stolas is crying.

It’s not a trick.

Their whole relationship has been a huge misunderstanding since day 1, and Blitz only just realized.

And Stolas sent Blitz away before he had time to realize, as well.

[dumplingsjinson]

List of “(un)requited love” prompts 

Requested by: @girlwonder-writes Request: “I would like 24 prompts about unrequited love please!” 

“You’re the best thing that will never happen to me.”

“I love you. I know it’s one-sided. And that’s okay. I just needed you to know.”

“I swore to everything I love that I would never catch feelings for someone like you, but here we are. And what’s worse is you don’t feel the same, and I’m the one who’s going to embarrass themselves when all is said and done.”

“I don’t ask for you to love me back. I only ask you to understand it will take time for me to stop feeling this way for you.” 

“I never asked to fall for someone whom I know doesn’t feel the same way.”

“There’s a twisted beauty in being in love with someone who doesn’t feel the same.” 

“What’s worse is, this is the first time I’ve genuinely felt this way about someone.”

“Do my feelings disgust you that much that you can’t even look me in the eyes now?” 

“I’ve always known that you don’t feel that way towards me. I just… Didn’t expect you to confirm it in a way that would both embarrass and hurt me.”

“Even love itself bested me.” 

“Your mind’s not occupied by anyone else, so why can’t you let it be occupied by me instead? Like you occupy mine.”

“I mean, it would be nice if I was given even one chance to prove myself to you.”

“I respect that you don’t like me back, so I hope you can at least respect my feelings for you.”

“Did you really just ask me if I know how it feels to not have someone love you back like that? Me, the biggest lovesick loser of them all?”

“I’m tired. I want to let go.” 

“I don’t want to feel like this way towards you anymore.”

“I’m not used to this lack of reciprocation.”

“Not to be a whiney bitch, but why can’t I be the one?” 

“I don’t mind loving them from afar if it means I get to keep them in my life.” 

“If I let go of you now… Then I’m letting go of you forever. And I don’t know… I don’t know if I can do that just yet.”

“We could be something more but there’s just one thing missing.” “Which is…?” “You also holding the same feelings for me, as I hold for you.” 

“I fell for you, fully knowing the risks… Yet I was still unprepared for the crash.” 

“This is why I never wanted to tell you how I felt! I knew it would ruin everything between us, and that’s exactly what’s happening right now.”

“You warned me not to fall for you. And it’s my fault I didn’t listen.”

Join my Discord server: Steaming Dumplings Nation

[charlieleclerc16]

A game of UNO*

Summary: Charles and Y/N play a game of strip UNO. The rules are of course made up by Charles himself.

Pairing: bestfriend!Charles x reader

Word count: 4K

Warnings: No actual smut, as in P in V. Just a LOT of tension and ofc sexual topics such as stripping, making out, boners etc.

A/N:  I guess I am now writing for Charles too. This story is originally posted on my other blog, so if it's familiar.. That's why lol. Also, funfact, I actually played a game of UNO with myself to get these cards to be accurate haha

Like they say; as we mature, the relationship matures with us. And so does the friendship between Y/N and Charles. The countless weekends going out to pubs are now spent mostly in the comfort of their own homes playing board games and watching movies. Of course, they liked to go out and drink, and God they still drink quite a lot. But they don’t care for loud music and sweaty people all around them.

Nearly every weekend, when there are no races, they come together and spend time like they always do. Downing a few bottles of white, munching on a delicious charcuterie platter, and just enjoying each other’s company. Today was like no other. Charles perched down in the corner of the comfy sofa and Y/N is getting the glasses ready for the delicious liquid.  

“Can we watch The Notebook tonight?” Y/N said as she walked into her living room with two wine glasses and the bottle of white she had been craving all day. Charles simply chuckles and gives her a judgemental look. “What?” She asks him.

“Haven’t we seen that movie like a billion times already?” He laughs. Secretly Charles is a sucker for a good romance movie and Y/N is all too familiar with his preferences. When they were both still in their teen years and just met in school, Y/N had never seen The Notebook before and Charles insisted she needed to see it.

“I mean yes, but you know I love this movie.” Y/N states, remote control in her hand to turn on the movie with a smirk on her face. She lets out a sneaky giggle, getting all comfy against his body stretched out on the sofa. Charles’ strong arm wraps around her body so naturally. His delicious scent immediately relaxing her. 

* * * Halfway through the movie, Charles gets bored. Each of them are two glasses of wine in and Charles is just ready for some action. He lifts his body off of the sofa making Y/N whine at the loss of contact. He makes his way to her board game stash. His feet drag across the floor and his hips sway from left to right, dancing his way to the cabinet. She laughs at him, the dork.

“What are you doing?” She questions, he is so cute dancing around your living room with his glass in his hand. 

“I am done watching that movie, again. I wanna play a game.” He says with a mischievous smirk across his face. The little twinkle in his eyes tells her he really is up to no good. He opens the top drawer of the board game cabinet and pushes around some of the stuff in there. 

“Ah! There it is.” Charles chuckles. He turns around holding the pack of UNO in his right hand. He brings it back over to the coffee table and opens up the little box as he sits down on the floor. 

“You don’t want to watch a movie we’ve seen a billion times yet you do want to play a game we have played a billion times?” She questions Charles, although she has a feeling that there’s a catch. The look on his face tells her he is not about to propose a simple game of UNO.

“See, you got that wrong baby.” The smirk on his face is only growing bigger and bigger. “There's a twist.” The scared look on Y/N’s face is priceless to Charles. She grabs the remote control to press pause, putting all her attention on the man in front of her.

“How about we add some spicy rules to the game?” The room falls silent aside from the heavy breathing escaping her lips. 

“What do you mean, Charles?” She whispers.

“I think you know exactly what I mean.” He says as he starts shuffling the cards. “Okay so, since it’s just the two of us, we shouldn’t’ make too many additions. How about every time you can match a numbered card or wild card with the most recently played card, the other person has to take off one clothing item.” His gaze never leaves her eyes. He starts dealing the cards as if he expects her to just go along with his plan. “Let’s also say for every +2 played, the other person also has to take off one item instead of drawing two cards.” And that’s how the rules are played out.

“I don’t know, Charles.” She says looking down at the cards as she picks them up in her hand one by one. Her first card is a yellow 1. She looks at the second card before she adds it to her hand, a red reverse card. The third card she picks up has her widening her eyes, a yellow +2. She picks up the rest of the cards and she joins Charles on the floor beside the coffee table. She has already decided to play along. 

“What if this ruins our friendship?” She asks.

“Then we’ll stop being friends.” Charles chuckles, lust covering his eyes.

“We can’t stop being friends just because of a game of UNO, dummy.” 

“What if afterwards, you don’t want to be friends because you want to be more than that.” The flirty smirk on his face is weakening her entire body. Fuck. She’s had the longest crush on the man in front of her. Her whole body is yearning to be close to him. Of course, she wants to be way more than that.

“This would have to be the most seductive game of UNO for that to happen.” She tries to shrug off the nerves in her body. Not really doing a great job at just that.

“Shut up and play your first card.”

Charles flips over the top card of the deck. A green 1 lying flat on the table. She takes a look at the cards in her hand. There’s no green so she decides on a yellow 1. She places down the card and a hissing sound coming from Charles’ lips pulls her attention to his eyes. The look on his face looks like pure mischief. His long fingers drag through his cards. He pinches one of them in between his thumb and pointer finger with a big smirk on his lips. God, he looks so kissable. 

She takes a big chug from her glass. Charles slams down his card, showing the yellow 1 matching your card perfectly. 

“I would’ve never guessed I’d be getting you out of your clothes so quickly.” His voice was low and husky. Her wine glass barely touches the table before she brings it back to her lips for another chug making Charles chuckle at her nerves. 

She thinks for a second before she hooks her fingers on the welt of her right sock. Her knees press into her chest and she takes both socks off, one by one. 

“Hold on, this isn’t fair. You’re wearing more clothes than I am.” Charles states as she see his brain calculating. They’re both wearing socks, jeans and a T-shirt. But Charles refers to what’s underneath that. Suddenly she feel thankful for deciding on wearing a bra today, because that’s not a given for every day.

“Well, I guess that’s just my advantage of being forced to strip for you.” She shrugs.

“I did not force you.” He pouts making her giggle. She looks at the table to check back in with the card that’s last been played before diving back into her cards. She can’t help but let the slightest smirk appear on her lips before she plays the yellow +2 in her hands. 

“Fuck.” Charles laughed. “Off with the socks we go.” He continues as he takes both of them off in a swift motion. He adds them to where her socks are piled up together. 

Charles looks in his cards. There is a red +2 in his hand which he could just play right now but he decides to keep that one in his hand for a little longer. Instead, he pulls out a yellow 5.

Y/N sighs, feeling relieved that she doesn’t have to get rid of any more clothes right now. The anxious yet thrilling feeling is riling her up. She have never felt any excitement like this before. Charles and Y/N have been friends since forever and she has had the biggest crush on him for nearly as long. Her eyes always lingered a bit too long when they went to swimming together and he was in just his swimming trunks. Or the goosebumps his touch left on her skin as his fingers danced along her arm as a small sign of affection. Friendly affection, but it still made her feel all sorts of ways.

Both of them play a couple of cards before Charles has a big smirk plastered across his face again. Uh oh. His fingers stride along his cards again before he picks one. He places a red 7 on top of your blue 7. 

“Wouldn’t it be fun if your seven was blue too?” He says as he scooches a bit closer, their legs now touching. 

“Stooop, you make me nervous.” She blushes.

“Don’t be. It’s just me.” Charles reassures her and wraps his empty hand around her ankle. His thumb moves in soft strokes up and down. She knows he tries to calm her down but every stroke of his thumb is sent straight to her clit. 

Y/N plays a red reverse card. Allowing her to play another card since it’s a two-player game of UNO. She’s all out of red so she draws a card, a red 4. She places it down and look back up to Charles who still has his hand on her ankle. 

“Isn’t that fortunate?” Charles teases. 

“Just from you saying that, I know there’s nothing fortunate about it for me.” She mumbles as she frightens the next card that he will put on the table. 

Charles has a twinkle in his eyes looking at the card in his hand. The red +2 is going to get rid of her first clothing item that’ll actually reveal some skin. Charles too had been pining over her for years. He started loving her in a bit more than just a friendly kind of way around the age of 16. Now 10 years later, nothing had changed. Both of them had been dating people, trying to distract themselves from the massive crushes on each other. But at the end of the day, they always came back to each other.

He finally places his card down, an excited look on his face. But she quickly takes her green +2 and smack it down on the table.

“Hah!” She yelps. “That makes two items for you to be gone!” 

“Nah-ah, baby. Haven’t you read the rules before?” He states. “We both have to get rid of one item.” Charles smirks. Mr know it all, why does he know all rules of UNO? Probably because they have played it so many times.

“+2 plus +2 equals drawing four cards. Simple.” She argues but Charles already pulled out the rules from the box. He reads out the bit about how when your opponent plays a +2 card, you have to draw two cards and afterwards may continue your turn. Y/N is kind of sad that Charles isn’t going to get rid of both his jeans AND t-shirt.

Charles takes hold of the hem of his shirt with both his arms crossed before he drags the fabric over his head. In the meantime, she stands up to unbutton her jeans. She gets distracted by the beautiful sight in front of her. His abs are gorgeously on display his toned skin is like a piece of art. Charles had always been hot. But the more he started driving, the more he started working out. And damn did it do wonders for his body. 

“What are you doing?” Charles asks as he throws his shirt on top of both of their socks. He softly chuckles at her eyes staring down at his torso. 

“Ehm, sorry. I was taking off my jeans.” She states, causing Charles to groan. He shakes his head in a disapproving way. “What?” She asks him.

“Should’ve just taken off your shirt like I did.” He mumbles before he picks up his cards from the table. His eyes go from the discard pile on the table to the cards in his hand. There are no more green cards in his hand so he draws a card. Luckily it’s a green one so he places it on the pile. 

“Hmpf, nah. I’ll keep my shirt on for a bit longer.” She mumbles softly. Being shirtless always makes her feel so exposed. Her insecurities would peak without a shirt so she’d rather keep it on for as long as possible. Charles notices how she tries to hide herself. His hand finds its place back on her ankle and slowly travels up to her calf, stroking up and down.

“You have no idea how god damn beautiful you are, do you?” He reassures and she tries to shrug it off.

Both of them have a few cards left in hand but none of them are useful. They draw a few cards, and some of them are played immediately. Y/N look at her cards and forges a plan. With a smirk on her face, she plays a wild card allowing her to change the active colour to blue. But she has instant regret when she sees a smirk on Charles’ face that’s even wider than her own. 

His fingers pick a card from his hand but before he places it down he tugs it back and picks up another one to play. A simple blue 9 lays down on the table. But the twinkle in his eyes never left.

She sighs and take a big sip of wine to empty her glass. She places her cards down on the table and gets up to grab the bottle of wine in the fridge.

“Cute undies.” Charles coos since her shirt doesn’t reach past her bum. 

She comes back with the cold bottle and fills up both of their glasses, emptying the second bottle of the evening. The glasses are a bit full but who cares? She places the bottle down on the coffee table and sits back in her spot.

The plan she made a few minutes ago still works, she plays a blue reverse card allowing her to take another turn since it’s just the two of them playing. Next, she plays a blue skip card to grant her another turn. And last up she plays a plain blue 6. During all three of these cards, the smirk on Charles’ face grew back more comprehensive and she just knows what is coming. 

The blue +2 that hits the table was expected, and is followed by a shout of UNO!

“Fuck.” She mumbles and takes a gulp from her glass. “Fine.” She continues before she grabs the hem of her shirt. She drags it out, trying to hold off for as long as possible. But the anticipation is turning Charles on even more. Of course, he has seen her in a bikini before, but this is different. This feels different.

Her shirt is added to the growing pile in front of the sofa. Charles notices how she feels a bit uncomfortable. Her eyes avoid his and she is unsure where to actually look. His hand reaches out for her and slides from her upper arm all the way down to her hand. He holds onto it for a little while, squeezing ever so softly.

“You really are the prettiest woman I’ve ever seen.” He reassures her by giving her the exact confidence boost she needed. 

After Y/N plays her second to last card, Charles is able to finish the game by playing his very last card. Leaving him in his jeans and boxers and her in just her bra and panties. 

“Let’s go for another round.” She states and already starts collecting all cards to shuffle them. Charles chuckles at her newly gained confidence. He is so ready to play a second round. 

She deals the cards, places the deck back on the table, and flip over the top card of the deck. A yellow 4 is laying on the table. 

“Since I won last round, you may start this one." 

She places down a green 4 on top of the yellow one on the table. A simple but steady start, she thinks. 

“Oh shit.” Charles says and places down the green 4 he already had in his hand, ready to play. “I’m so sorry, baby. You don’t have to…” He adds, suddenly getting nervous at the realization he is finally going to see her topless after years of wondering and imagining what she’d look like underneath.

“The game’s the game.” She states and lets her hand travel to her back to unclasp her bra. Charles gulped, feeling more nervous than he ever had before in his life. His heart was pounding as he looked into her eyes and saw the unmistakable desire there. He had no idea what she is thinking but he is fascinated by her daringness.

He watches as she pushes the straps of her bra off of her shoulders and drops the garment to the ground. She lets out a deep sigh of pleasure as her breasts become the focus of his attention, and the look in his eyes tells her he wants her just as much as she wants him.

She feels incredibly sexy and alluring. For a brief moment, their eyes meet. She feels a strange and wonderful stirring in her stomach. Her cheeks flush, and she quickly looks away. At that moment, she just knows that she is in trouble.

Without saying anything, she swiftly moves on with the game by placing down her green 8. Charles can’t seem to keep his eyes away from her for too long, giving her an enormous confidence boost. 

Both of them place down a few more cards before she places down her Wild Draw 4 card and change the colour to blue. Charles draws his four cards and takes a good look at his cards. He’s having a hard time focusing on the game with the gorgeous sight in front of him. 

He places down two cards in one go, a blue skip causing him to have a second turn, and a blue 5. 

She places down her blue 8 and shout UNO! Charles looks through his cards again to find any card that may cause her to not finish the game. A Wild Draw 4, a +2, anything at all. But all he has is a blue 2.

“Oh my god, Charles. What are the odds.” She chuckles. 

“What do you mean?” 

She places down a blue 2 on top of his. She’s been waiting for this moment ever since he took his shirt off. Her thoughts have been flooded with the idea of him naked in front of her. It’s all she’s been thinking about for the past years. 

“Fuck. You win the game and I have to take off my jeans?” He laughs. Without another word, he gets up, unbuttons his jeans and zips down his fly. His thumbs hook into the waistband of his jeans to pull them down painfully slow. A soft sign, nearly a moan is heard when his bulge is released from his tight pants. Ever since she had to get rid of her shirt Charles’ cock started hardening beneath him. 

She gasps at the view in front of her. She makes it her mission to get him out of his boxers as soon as possible. The lust in her eyes is inevitable, not knowing where to look. His eyes? His hands, where he is pushing down his jeans? Or his bulge, which is honestly where she just wants to keep looking at.

Tension is rising and she can’t wait for him to add the last bit of his clothes to the growing pile. His jeans finally drop to the floor and he lifts his right foot trying to step out. His ankle gets stuck and she reaches out instinctively to hold the jeans down, helping him get out. She allows him to step out before she adds the denim to the pile of clothes. 

Charles sits back down close to her. Both their legs touch again but now there is no fabric in between holding back the skin to skin contact. She looks down at where her legs touch and look back up to him.

“Hi.” He says with a soft smile across his lips. God those lips, they have never looked more kissable. Or is it just her mind playing games? Her thoughts are all over the place. All she wants is to just push him over, straddle him and kiss him. Everywhere. 

“Hey.” She chuckles before a nervous laugh is heard from Charles’ side. Her eyes drop down to his boxers. He chose to wear navy blue Calvin Klein’s this morning and she is so thankful for his choice. The dark fabric accentuates his skin perfectly. An outline visible around his growing member. 

“Eyes up here, baby.” He snorted as if he isn’t having the hardest time keeping his own eyes away from her tits. 

“Sorry.” She whispers before Charles holds out his hand for her to grab. His thumb dances on the back of your hand. Both of them are quiet for a little bit as they soak up each other. 

After what feels forever but actually are only 1,5 minutes, Y/N speaks up.

“Charles? What are we doing?” She questions him, still holding onto him as she looks their connected hands. 

“Hmm, I don’t know actually.” He replies. His free hand reaches with his forefinger for her chin and pushes her face up so she’d have to look in his eyes. “All I know is that I want you. So, fucking, bad.”

Her eyes light up. She can’t believe he really admitted what he just said and without a second thought she gives in to her desire of just a few minutes ago. 

Y/N lets go of Charles’ hand and pushes him onto the floor by his shoulders. Simultaneously she climbs on top of him, causing a muted “oh” to fall from his lips. He is surprised by her actions and honestly, so is she. His hands grab her by her hips as she sits down on his stomach, avoiding contact with his aching cock. 

Their lips finally connect. Ten long years are coming together in this sweet and lustful kiss. Charles’ right hand travels up and down her side as his left nestles into her hair. The two of them sink into the living room floor, both desperate for the connection they have been longing for. 

His opens his mouth and gently sucks Y/N’s lip between his. He lets go after a few seconds and licks softly over her bottom lip. Her heart races as her spine arches under his touch causing him to naturally pull her closer. She opens her mouth to allow her tongue to join his, going back and forth. 

She moans with pleasure and their tongues intertwine even more vigorously, entangling with one another in a desperate search for more pleasure. Each movement they make is somehow more tantalizing than the last. Their hands exploring each other's body with a deep hunger for more.

Y/N wishes this moment would last forever. She is scared of what might happens next, what if this is just a heat of the moment kind of kiss and they really can’t go back to being just friends. Or maybe that is exactly what Charles meant with his ‘Then we’ll just stop being friends’. 

Charles’ hand roams down her back. He moans a bit louder when he finally touches her bum. She feels a firm squeeze on her left cheek, ripping a moan from her throat. Y/N bucks her hips instinctively at the sweet tingles in her core.

Their lips part for a second and she presses her forehead against his. Both of them are a panting mess, feeling completely out of this world. With Charles’ hand still squeezing her bottom he speaks up.

“How about we take this to the bedroom, baby?” He whispers.

[darkdawn01]

❝ HEART RATE HIGHS !! ❞ – azriel x reader

✭ pairing: gym rat ! azriel x archeron ! reader

✭ summary: you swear you only have a gym membership for self-improvement. it’s definitely not to see the cute guy you have a crush on.

✭ contains: modern au, f!reader, college au, but age is vague, fluff, anxious!reader who can’t see that azriel is already a little in love with you, gym culture, alcohol, meddling sisters, because reader is terrible at talking to guys, mutual pining.

✭ word count: 3k+ ✭ a/n: i absolutely love gym fics and i couldn't stop thinking about azriel in a compression shirt, so if i have to suffer, so do you <3

“wait, did i hear you properly? you’re going to the gym?” nesta’s voice cuts through the quiet murmur of the lecture hall. heads turn, and the professor pauses mid-sentence, frowning at the interruption. you cringe at the sudden attention and whisper an apology, slouching in your seat to avoid the stares.

“you’re acting like i’ve just sprouted wings,” you respond, trying to keep your voice low.

nesta blinks, her surprise melting into scepticism. “well, it is out of character for you. the gym, are you sure?”

“yes.”

“really?”

you nod.

you can’t blame her for being doubtful. among your sisters, you’re the most averse to exercise. even elain, thanks to her gardening, could likely outlift you. but –

“i don’t know if i should be offended that you’re so surprised.”

“hey, it’s not personal,” nesta replies, her voice softer as she glances around the room. the professor had resumed teaching and students were slowly returning their attention to their notes. “it’s just... unexpected. i mean, last time i suggested going for a jog, you looked at me like i’d grown a second head.”

“yeah, well, i just figured it’s about time i start taking better care of myself.”

“what brought this on all of a sudden?”

you shrug, trying to put your thoughts into words. “i guess i just realised that i’ve been neglecting my health lately. with school and everything else going on, i haven’t been feeling so great.”

nesta nods in understanding, letting you continue. neither of you really cared about this class, after all, and it wasn’t the first time you’d been called out for talking through a lecture.

“i just thought it might be a good way to clear my head, you know? like, a chance to zone out and focus on something other than deadlines and exams.”

“if you turn into a gym rat and only eat chicken and rice, i’m disowning you.”

“you’d have to pry ice cream from my cold, dead hands,” you say, nudging nesta with a grin. “nothing can take away my love of carbs and cheesy fries.”

“uh-huh, sure. that’s what they all say until they’re posting pictures of their meal prep on instagram.”

“you have no faith in me, do you?”

“none whatsoever,” she replies with a grin. “but hey, if this gym thing helps you feel better, i’m all for it.”

“if i ever mention a juice cleanse, you have full permission to stage an intervention.”

“deal. and if you lecture me on the importance of pre-workout supplements, i’m kicking you out of the apartment.”

after your year abroad, you found yourself back at the university of velaris, settling into a new rhythm with your three sisters. the four of you had decided to share an apartment, a decision fuelled by equal parts necessity and nostalgia. it wasn’t long before familiar routines took shape amidst the chaos of unpacked boxes and endless debates over furniture placement.

besides, feyre had been spending most of her time at her new boyfriend’s apartment, leaving a bit more breathing room for the rest of you. you hadn’t met him yet, but you’d heard he came from money and his penthouse had skyline views, so you could hardly blame her.

nesta wasn’t a fan, muttering something about “trust fund babies” under her breath whenever his name came up in conversation. but feyre seemed happy, and ultimately, that was what mattered most, even if a twinge of jealousy occasionally crept in.

“you should come with me.”

“i would rather die,” she snorts. “doesn’t mor work out? you should ask her.”

“no way, i’d look even more unfit next to her. i have some pride.”

“wow, so you ask me instead. you’re such a bitch,” she laughs.

as luck would have it, the gym was just a 10-minute walk away, conveniently offering a discounted price for students. the only downside was going alone.

“but i don’t know how to use the equipment,” you groan.

“and you think i do?” your sister retorts.

“well, no, but at least i wouldn’t look like the only idiot.”

“just find someone with muscles and ask them,” she suggests.

“right, of course, because i’m so great at talking to strangers.”

nesta raises an eyebrow, her lips twitching with amusement. “so, what’s your plan then? to stand in the corner and hope the smith machine starts talking to you?”

“maybe,” you mumble, feeling a flush of embarrassment creeping up your neck. you didn’t even know what a smith machine was until this morning.

nesta lets out a dramatic sigh, shaking her head. “stop being such a baby and put a cute workout outfit on. you’ll be fine.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

you were very much not fine.

the blonde girl at the front desk, with her bouncing ponytail and bright smile that could probably power the entire gym, was very nice. she had given you a tour of the gym, showing you the rows of gleaming equipment and weight racks, and enthusiastically pointed out the array of classes available, from yoga and spin to high-intensity interval training.

she had, however, assumed you knew how to use everything, and you hadn’t been brave enough to correct her.

you had nodded along, trying to absorb the barrage of information she threw at you, but each machine seemed more complicated than the last, and you were positive some of them belonged in a medieval torture chamber. 

but you could do this. if guys who couldn’t even spell “midterm” could end up looking like greek statues, surely you could handle a single gym session. you were smart, you were pretty. everything was going to be just fine. besides, you had watched enough fitness influencers on social media to have a vague idea of what to do. with a deep breath, you reminded yourself that everyone had to start somewhere – or at least that’s what your therapist had told you.

deciding to start your session with something familiar, you made your way over to the row of treadmills. incline walking was hard to mess up. the downside was that it made you feel like you were dying.

thirty minutes later, you were profoundly regretting your decision as you clung to the handrails, legs burning with exertion. sweat had beaded on your forehead, and you couldn’t help but curse under your breath.

with shaky legs, you made your way to the weights, steeling yourself against the familiar wave of self-doubt. this part of the gym was always crowded with an excess of men flaunting their egos, their grunts and posturing only serving to make you feel even more out of place.

you think of nesta and how she would never let anyone make her feel small. she would have your head if she thought you would let any man intimidate you.

deep breaths. everything is fine.

as you attempt to adjust the resistance on the leg press machine, your fingers fumble over the pin that holds the weight stack in place, causing the plates to clang noisily against each other. flushed and annoyed, you would love nothing more than to slink away in embarrassment.

“here, let me.” he crouches beside you and effortlessly rectifies your problem as if you hadn’t been struggling for the past ten minutes.

oh god, he looked like he could go viral on tiktok or be on the front cover of a fitness magazine.

and he was helping you.

stay calm. just ignore the fact that this might be the most beautiful man you’ve ever met.

you couldn’t help but steal glances at the way his muscles flexed beneath the fabric of his black compression shirt, each movement highlighting the definition of his arms and chest.

he was so pretty. you just hoped you didn’t look like you were dying.

“thanks,” you say, your voice coming out a little more breathless than you intended.

oh god, just breathe.

he flashes you a soft smile, “no problem. we’ve all been there.”

you’d like to say you committed to a gym membership for self-improvement.

(you would be lying.)

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

before ever stepping foot in a gym, your taste in men was somewhat predictable.

you liked nerdy computer science guys you could play video games with and pretentious english lit students who gave you good book recommendations – the indoor sort.

they all tended to look like a light breeze could push them over. not the kind where you could steal their hoodies. and that was fine. you didn’t care, honest.

but then the cute guy at the gym completely ruined your usual type in men. you never imagined you’d be that into muscles, but he looked like he could toss you around like a rag doll, and you soon realised that you actually quite liked the thought.

you initially thought your crush would be harmless – glancing at him from across the room and playing out scenarios in your head.

but then he started offering to unload your plates, and showed you how different machines worked when you looked particularly confused. he would ask you to spot him, despite you both knowing you would be of zero help, and would refill your water bottle when he noticed it getting low.

he would even help to correct your form so you wouldn’t injure yourself.

that, however, had you so flustered you couldn’t even complete the full set. his hand grazing your waist made your heart pound so loudly, you were certain he could hear it. you wanted the ground to swallow you whole.

you told him you had to leave early to finish your essay.

and then, like the gentleman he was, he had asked you about it the next time he saw you, and let you ramble about your major for far too long. the worst part was that he seemed genuinely interested.

you didn’t even know his name and yet you were pretty sure you wanted to have his babies.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

“are you sure you really need protein powder?” elain questioned, picking up a bunch of celery for her green juices. “you can get all the vitamins and minerals you need from real food, you know.”

“but it’s so much easier to hit my protein goals with it,” you whined, clutching the tub of powder defensively.

“she’s only doing this because her crush drinks the same brand,” nesta teased, a sly grin spreading across her face as she tossed a box of granola into the cart.

“oh my god, keep your voice down,” you groaned, glancing around nervously. it was 10 pm on a wednesday. the grocery store was practically deserted, but you think you might cry if anyone overhears. “besides, it’s not just because of him. it’s practical!”

“practical,” nesta repeated, her grin widening. “sure, that’s the reason.”

“what’s his name again?" elain said, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

“i hate you,” you muttered, feeling your cheeks heat up. you tried to focus on the nutrition label in front of you, but nesta’s laughter made it impossible.

“come on,” nesta said, nudging you playfully. “you’ve been pining over him for months. when are you going to actually talk to him?”

“never?”

“you should accidentally bump into him and spill your protein shake all over his expensive gym clothes. it would be a brilliant conversation starter.”

“please don’t jinx me.”

“oh, and then you could do his laundry as an apology, and he’d buy you a coffee because he thinks you’re pretty!” elain chimes in.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

you’ve been working out long enough now that you knew the basics of gym etiquette. namely, don’t be creepy. a simple thing, really, but too many people struggled to act like sane, well-adjusted human beings capable of basic manners. it was as if the gym was some bizarre alternate universe where leggings made men’s brains short-circuit.

so you try very hard to not stare at your gym crush doing pull-ups.

but his biceps are flexing, his shirt is riding up, and you never knew you could be so attracted to someone’s back.

you feel like you’re twelve again – you want to write his name in a heart in your diary and talk about him for hours on the phone.

for the first time, however, you’re grateful you don’t know any concrete details about him. you would’ve stalked his social media, found out he had a girlfriend or horrible political opinions, and then cried yourself to sleep.

you’d really rather not know. hopeless yearning is much more to your taste.

but then he notices you across the room and smiles, and you realise your gym crush is very much not harmless.

you decide that you’ll be brave and actually initiate conversation for once.

a horrible idea, really.

“hey.”

“hey,” he responds.

“what are you listening to?” god, you didn’t think you were this awkward.

“oh, i don’t listen to music when i work out.”

“right, yeah, i totally get that.” you actually don’t understand that at all. the idea of exercising with just your thoughts sounds like a special kind of torture, but he doesn’t need to know that.

you fidget with the hem of your shorts, desperately searching for something else to say.

“so, uh, how’s your workout going?” he asks.

“it’s going okay,” you reply, the words tumbling out. “you?”

you want to disappear.

“yeah, it’s good too.” you swear you see a hint of pink in his cheeks, though it’s probably just from finishing his set.

your mind is blank and you have no idea what else to say. “great.”

you hope you look like you’re smiling and not grimacing.

this was quite possibly the worst idea you’ve ever had. you’re never speaking to a man again.

even if they are very pretty and look like they could pick you up without breaking a sweat.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

getting ready with three other girls in a cramped apartment was always a challenge. you loved your sisters, but if feyre didn’t get away from the mirror, you would scream.

feyre, always meticulous with her makeup, was painstakingly perfecting her eyeliner, ignoring the sighs from nesta.

“can you possibly move any slower?” nesta hisses, leaning against the doorframe with crossed arms.

you exchange a knowing look with elain, who was sitting on the edge of the bathtub, scrolling through her phone. she had opted to stay behind, and you were growing increasingly jealous of her decision.

“why don’t we just take turns?” you intervene, hoping to avoid a fight before you even got to the party. “feyre, you finish up, then nesta, and i’ll go last. sound fair?”

feyre finally steps away from the bathroom and nesta wastes no time in taking her place, muttering something about how she could do a better job in half the time.

feyre had been persistent about attending one of rhysand’s house parties for weeks now, and despite your and nesta’s reluctance, she had managed to wear you down. it wasn’t so much her persuasive arguments as it was the promise of free alcohol that ultimately swayed both of you. plus, you were a little curious. feyre had been gushing about her boyfriend for months now. 

as you stood in front of the mirror, giving yourself a final once-over, you couldn’t help but feel a little nervous. feyre, radiant in her navy dress, was practically buzzing with excitement. nesta looked as though she’d rather be doing anything else, despite begrudgingly admitting that the three of you looked good.

you had opted for a short, tight-fitted black dress. shocking how regularly going to the gym could actually help your confidence.

feyre led the way, practically dragging you and nesta out of the apartment. elain, now comfortably nestled on the couch with a book, waved you goodbye. “be safe, and don’t drink too much!”

“it’s so cute that you think i could survive the night without being drunk,” nesta laughs. 

the cool night air is a welcome change from the stuffy apartment as the three of you step outside to wait for the cab. feyre was already chattering about rhysand and his friends, while nesta had shot her a look that could wither plants.

you really needed a drink.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

rhysand’s apartment ended up being a thirty-minute drive away, nestled in the wealthier district of velaris, and you could see why feyre spent so much time here.

you could hear the music before you even enter, and it smells so strongly of alcohol you already feel a little lightheaded.

it can hardly be called an apartment in all honesty, it’s nicer than most houses and certainly surpasses anything you’ve ever stepped foot in before. it’s spacious, with an open layout that flows effortlessly from one room to the next. plush couches and chairs face a glass coffee table that is currently covered in red plastic cups and half-finished bottles of vodka. luckily, all his furniture was black. you winced at the thought of cleaning the stains that were bound to appear after tonight.

you noticed the floor-to-ceiling windows offering a pretty view of the city skyline, the twinkling lights stretching out like a blanket of stars against the night. you weren’t the jealous type, but you had the sudden urge to strangle feyre.

she had navigated the apartment with ease, her eyes alight with familiarity as she disappeared in search of rhysand. left to fend for yourselves, you and nesta exchanged a glance before setting off in the direction of the kitchen.

as you weave through the throng of people, you catch sight of mor, effortlessly manoeuvring between guests as she pours drinks. she seems completely at ease, flashing dazzling smiles and looking stunning as ever.

mor’s eyes light up with recognition as she spots you among the crowd. with a beckoning gesture, she calls you over. “i didn’t think you two would be here!” she seems genuinely happy to see you, despite only talking to her after class a couple of times.

“our sister is dating the host, so naturally, we’ve been dragged along,” you reply. “she’s off hunting him down now.”

mor’s gaze shifts between you and nesta, realisation crossing her features. “rhysand is actually my cousin,” she explains with a smile. “so, i’ve met feyre a few times now.”

“that’s unfortunate,” nesta laughs. you’re pretty sure she’s only half-joking.

you elbow her. “come on, don’t be mean. i don’t want to be kicked out after five minutes of being here.”

“are you sure? we could go get pizza and ice cream and not wake up feeling like we were hit by a car?”

“are you seriously the voice of reason right now?”

“hey, if you’re going to the gym, then i can be a responsible adult.”  

mor perks up, her eyes brightening with interest. “you work out?”

you smile sheepishly, “i only started a few months ago.”

“you should join me sometime!” mor suggests eagerly. “i usually go with rhysand and a few others, but one of them hasn’t shown up in ages. it’d be great to have another girl!”

“speaking of which, i should introduce you to them,” mor adds with a grin before calling out, “azriel! cassian! get over here!”

and then you spot who is walking over.

“mor, what’s up?” a very familiar voice asks.

because, you realise, it’s your gym crush. it’s the guy you’ve been pining over for months.

your brain is really struggling to comprehend that he’s here, and he knows mor, and apparently rhysand?

has he met feyre too?

he’s wearing all black, like usual, and his biceps look even better in this lighting, and oh god, you want to melt into the ground before you somehow think of a new way to embarrass yourself.

your mind is racing a hundred miles per hour and you’re suddenly realising you’re going to have to avoid feyre’s boyfriend forever if he’s friends with him and – 

and as your eyes meet his, and realisation flickers across his features, you’re really wishing you had stayed at home with elain.

or vanish into thin air. that works too.

“az, these are feyre’s sisters!” mor’s voice breaks through your thoughts.

you’ve finally learnt his name, you suppose, but you’re pretty sure you’ll have to find a new gym.

[luveline]

wondering what zombie!au Steve might try to do for a sappy romantic surprise.. I feel like he’d get really excited about planning something intimate/small but really meaningful and tooth-rotting sweet.. maybe it’s for a birthday? or just for a spot of cheer?

Before the apocalypse, Steve was desperate to be loved. None of his girlfriends ever seemed that interested in more than sex or popularity, and if they were, they’d realise they wanted more than Steve soon after. He spent years wishing somebody would look at him and find exactly what they wanted. 

And you do. 

You look at him like he’s your everything (when you aren’t complaining, that is). “I’m gonna have to shave you myself,” you say, climbing into his lap, your hand tipping his head back less gently than you mean to, he’s sure. “That’s a wound.” 

“It’s a scratch. It’ll be fine tomorrow.” 

He grabs your waist, surprised but certainly not unhappy with your sudden presence. You’re straddling him. “Does it hurt?” You rub the area surrounding his raw skin. “Does that hurt?” 

“Not really.” He runs his hands up and down your sides. “What’s up?” 

You shrug. He leans back against the headboard as you wrap your arms around his shoulders. “We finally have a bed again.” 

He pulls you in for a hug. “Yeah?” 

“It’s so nice. I missed this.” 

“I missed this too. Clean sheets, a door that locks…” 

You understand what he’s hinting at. He isn’t subtle, but he’s also in no rush, and you know that too. “Maybe you can give me a massage later,” you murmur. “We still have some of that nice lotion.” 

He loves that, the thought of you on your front as his hands push up your shoulders, your skin and his palms warmed by friction. “What about me?” he jokes, hands sliding up your back, tracing the path he’ll make later on. 

“You can have one too,” you say, your face dropping down to his neck, where you kiss him mildly, like you’re thinking of something else. 

Steve wants to give the gift to you before he forgets it. You can be a very distracting person, not just because he’d like to encourage your lips to his for a good kiss, or because you’re the perfect partner for hugging under the covers. Maybe it’s because he loves talking to you, about everything and anything at all.

“Hey, so.” He encourages your head back, his hand on the nape of your neck. “I have something for you.” 

“Do I have to get off of you?” you ask. 

“No, you can stay there.” He reaches into his pocket. 

“Wait, you’re smiling. Are you that excited to give it to me?” 

“Pretty excited.” 

You caress the inside of his elbow. 

It’s probably why you’re so easy to love. Not that you love him, but your propensity for sweetness, and the way you show your own affection. If he didn’t need both hands for this next part he’d twine your fingers together and hold yours all night long. 

He pulls a small plastic bag from his pocket to show you the contents, then changes his mind and opens the bag to take it out instead. “I know you were pretty happy that I found your necklace in my jacket, but I got it for you such a long time ago, I’m not saying you shouldn’t keep it. You should keep it.” 

“I don’t think I could get rid of it,” you say, honest and curious. “You gave it to me to make me feel better. Do you remember?” 

“Yeah, I remember. You had a frown like no one’s business for days.” He finds the charm and lays it over his hand. The chain is slightly tangled, but he can fix that. “There wasn’t a box, but. I don’t know, it reminded me of us, and you need an upgrade, I think I should ask you to get married–”

You smile in surprise, “What?” 

“But I can’t find a ring. So I have to promise to get you one, and you can have this for the interim.” It’s an incredible skinny chain joined by two hearts. Steve knows it’s cheesy, it’s insanely corny, whatever, he’s smiling like a loon. “I figure it’s me and you,” he says, putting it in your open palm. “Linked together.” 

Your gaze moves between him and the necklace slowly. “You want to marry me?” 

Steve curls your hand closed over the necklace. Gentle, he takes your face into both hands. “I get that I haven’t been the best boyfriend, but you can’t really think I don’t want that, right?” 

He’s really asking, but you don’t answer.

“I would’ve married you a long, long time ago, if things were different,” he says, pulling you in for a quick kiss. “I would’ve asked,” he corrects softly, before stealing another kiss. 

You press your screwed up fist to his chest as you kiss him back. 

“Who says we have to have rings?” you mumble. 

The idea of calling you his wife is insanity. It trips him up, flips his heart, but he thinks you deserve the real thing. As real as it can get, considering. 

“I’m gonna keep looking,” Steve says. 

The way your eyes soften as he rubs your cheek sets everything he’s saying to you in stone. Who else could he ever want to be looking at him like this beside you? How lucky he is that you’d bother. 

“Thank you,” you say. 

Your face tilts down and he drops one hand, moving the other to just under your jaw, his pinky and marriage finger sewn behind your ear, middle and index on your cheek. He watches you and you turn your gift in your palm, waiting for you to lift your head.

“Thank you,” you say again. “Will you put it on me?” 

Steve strings it around your neck and clasps it at your chest before twisting it to sit properly. The new necklace is a bit shorter than your simple diamond. You could wear both without issue. 

You look down at them but can’t quite see them. “Does it look good?” 

“Yeah. Looks beautiful.” 

He wraps his arms around you again and looks up in to your face, chests coming together as he straightens his back and the gap between you closes just enough. You look down at him, your smile a mirror of his. Steve thinks being as in love with you as he is makes for its own kind of gift. Much better than a necklace, but he’ll keep trying to bridge the gap. 

He forgets everything else when you’re together. Everything. 

His face falls into your chest and collar against your necklaces. You press your face to his hair and cuddle him nicely. 

“Love you,” you both whisper at the same time. 

Your laugh tickles his scalp, warm breath in his hair. 

[smokedscarlett]

late nights

summary: a small argument between spencer and the reader. the reader is bothered and stressed and spencer, at first resists, but then understands.

warnings: angst - > fluff, cursing, mentions of spencers job but no case particularly, if there’s anything i forgot please let me know! (some us of y/n). 

word count: 1.1k

You sit on top of your kitchen counter, legs swinging back and forth. You glance behind yourself and read the stove clock that reads a blaring 2:38. It’s understandable that you’re boyfriend Spencer wouldn’t be home at this hour, his job requires this of him, often leaving you to spend nights either waiting for his arrival or leaving out sweet notes for him to come home to as you curl in bed. However, tonight was different, well at least you felt different. Something in your mood caused you to be a little less then understanding about his late comings. All your friends tell you cute stories of date nights with their boyfriends and while you and Spencer do spend time together, you can’t recall the last time you went on a “date.” It isn’t your fault that you feel jealousy brewing in your stomach towards your friends every night. It is normal to feel a little neglected even though you knew the job requirements. You just need to remind yourself of this when Spencer walks through that door. Put on a brave face and act as though eating leftovers by yourself and your comfort show being your only company is an enjoyable night.

Tonight that reminder was forgotten.

The apartment door knob slowly turned and you got off from your seat on the kitchen counter. Spencer tries to sneak his way in, unaware of the fact that you are indeed awake.

“I’m awake,” you say, you can hear the edge in your voice.

“Hi (Y/N). You should be in bed by now angel, early morning tomorrow right?” Spencer questions his voice soft.

He seems relatively calm and not at all unnerved which isn’t what your expecting due to how late he arrived. You would assume that a case that takes this long wouldn’t leave Spencer in such a light mood.

“Good case today?” You ask, not responding to his previous comment.

“Actually, there was no case today. I got caught up in some paperwork and couldn’t stop myself from wanting to finish it.”

Your heart drops at this. As you were sitting here, alone and a little sad, your boyfriend was sitting at the bureau on his own accord doing paperwork.

“Oh,” is all your are able to muster.

Spencer finally looks up fully at you, before being distracted from putting his belongings down and taking off his shoes. His face reads a questioning expression as he tries to read your mood.

“Is something wrong,” he asks.

You try to refrain yourself and you try to be the understanding girlfriend, but the stress of this week has finally caught up to you, leaving you with inability to fake it for Spencer.

“You know I came home today to an empty cold apartment. Certainly not a rare occurrence but for some reason I really didn’t feel like eating dinner by myself and hearing about my friends dates with their boyfriends. I wanted to be with my boyfriend. But no, I understood the job calls and there’s nothing I can do to change that. To find out after all this that you fucking chose to stay at work late,” you feel anger rising in your throat as you cut yourself off before saying something you might regret. “So yeah Spencer I would say something is wrong.”

Spencer seems to be taken aback by your words, eyebrows furrowing as he tries to read you more.

“But it’s fine I don’t want to fight and I want to sleep,” you say quickly before he says anything throwing your hands up and starting your walk to your shared bedroom.

Spencer is quick to follow you and knowing him, this conversation is far from over.

“I’m sorry, sometimes I get caught up in my own world. I wish you would have told me you were feeling this way,” Spencer says trying to calm your anger.

Some part of you knows that he is right and you should have told him but another part argues that if Spencer can profile a stranger how could he not profile you. How could he not notice the loneliness you must be feeling.

“The last thing I would expect from dating a profiler is having to tell them the most obvious details of my life,” you respond, turning around towards Spencer quickly.

“That’s not fair.” Spencer doesn’t provide any further argument.

So you simply nod your head and crawl into bed, tucking yourself to take the least amount of room on the bed and face away from Spencer.

“Baby.”

You hear his soft voice say with a light sigh. He knows what he’s doing. Against your own will, you turn around and look at him with tears sitting on your waterline.

Without saying another word Spencer holds out his arms. You fight the urge to laugh slightly to yourself knowing that Spencer would rather die then hug you in bed with his outside clothes on, even in the midst of a fight.

As a form of compromise you pull yourself out of the sheets and into his arms. His lips are immediately on the side of your head and he is peppering you while whispering soft apologies.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry, “ he places a kiss on your forehead, “Have I mentioned that I’m sorry.

You laugh slightly, still not able to form words.

“You’re right this is something so obvious I don’t know how I could have missed it. I promise I will make more time for us.

At that all you can do push yourself further into his chest and sigh.

Spencer finally pulls away to look into your eyes and double check that your tears have stopped. As on slips, he reaches out his finger to gently swipe it. 

“Are we okay?” he asks quietly. 

“As long as you promise not to choose to stay at work late,” you respond trying to make the air lighter. 

“Always,” he says seriously. 

As you stand there with his hand on your cheek, staring in each others eyes, Spencer suddenly wraps his arm under your legs and carries you bridal style. 

You shriek at the sudden movement. “Spencer!”

“Shhh angel the neighbors are sleeping,” he teases.

You swat his back as he carries you towards the bed once again. He gently places you down before going to bathroom to quickly get ready for bed. When he returns he finds you sprawled on the bed in half-asleep daze. He sinks down into the bed, pulls you close to his chest and kisses the side of your forehead. 

“Go to sleep now, we have date tomorrow,” he whispers in your ear as you both slowly drift off to sleep. 

a/n: this is my first every post so hii if u made it this far. any interaction is very much appreciated!!

[cthulhuwritesstuff]

Full Moon Spoilers below.

Thoughts on that scene…

“Can I have a fucking minute to think after everything you put me through, you pompous rich asshole? Treat me like one of your little butler imps. You can’t just dismiss me like that. I mean, you royal fucks think you can do this every time, like you can just play with our feelings because we’re smaller and not as important. Well, I am not letting you, bitch! Let’s go!”

What I heard:

“Talk to me. Fight me! Anything, but don’t walk away from me! Tell me I am wrong!

Don’t just tell me all of this after so long of me believing that this is nothing more than sex! Nobody wants me more than for what they need! So how could you? I need more so I can deal with this! You can’t just drop it all on me and expect me to process so quickly.

How should I believe you when you are so quick to asume and ready to dismiss me? Stay here and talk to me!

I want it all to be the same, because I don’t know how to deal with what I’ve just heard, and I do not know how to deal with the fact that I feel for you, too. This is how I feel! This is how I process things! Look at me!

This is terrifying. Don’t walk away! Don’t you fucking walk away and assume you know me. WHY ARE YOU WALKING AWAY? Give me a moment to process. I need to be angry. Be angry back. WE need to be angry. Be angry with me! Level with me! Match my energy! I don’t want to hurt you, but don’t play with my feelings like this.

How could you want me? Tell me, I really need to know how! How could you feel for me, when I can’t even feel for myself. How dare you push me out of my comfort zone and make me face myself and you? Don’t you know how hurt I already am?

Don’t just say that and turn around because it’s too much to process! Talk to me! I say stupid things when I am hurt, I need you to hurt me back so I know we’re on even playing field. I am not letting you say all that and leave. I am not letting you sit with your own assumptions and think you know me better than me. LOOK AT ME!”

[scoonsalicious]

8.2 Bucky

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Summary: Lily McIntyre, trainer for new SHIELD recruits at the Avengers Tower, has been in love with her best friend, Bucky Barnes, from the moment she met him. She's been content with her role of the #1 girl in Bucky's life, even if it means she has to sabotage a romantic relationship or two. It'll be worth it when he realizes that they're meant for each other, right? There's just one small problem: Lily McIntire never expected Bucky Barnes to fall for You.

Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, mentions of sexual situations, mostly this is just fluff.

Word Count: 2.7k

Previously On...: You had a nightmare/memory of your time in Afghanistan.

A/N: It's really nice out. I'm writing outside today, lol.

If you ever feel so inclined to support my work, hop on over to buy me a coffee; it's much appreciated! <3

NOTE! The tag list is a fickle bitch, so I'm not really going to be dealing with it anymore. If you want to be notified when new story parts drop, please follow @scoonsaliciousupdates

Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!

Bucky slowly came into consciousness to the sensation of small hands running up and down his chest. Blinking his eyes open, he grinned when he saw Major leaning over him, tracing her fingers along the planes of his muscles.

“Morning,” she said, smiling down at him, her long hair hanging around her face like curtains.

“Mornin’, doll,” he replied, voice rough with sleep. “You been up long?”

She hummed, running her fingers up along both sides of his collarbone and back down again. “No,” she said. “Maybe ten minutes?” She shrugged. “I was planning on letting you sleep for a while longer, but you looked so pretty, couldn’t stop myself from touching you.”

He gripped one of her wrists in his hand and brought it to his lips, kissing her pulse point. “Glad you didn’t, sugar,” he said, nuzzling her hand to his cheek. “Cause lookin’ at you’s better than any dream I coulda been havin’.”

Major playfully pinched his cheek as she rolled her eyes at him. “What did I tell you about your sweet talk, Sergeant?” she said. 

Bucky pretended to think about it for a moment. “Um…,” he mused, tapping his chin with a forefinger, “that there was nothing you could do to stop me from doin’ it? Even if I already did have you right where I wanted you?”

She laughed, and Bucky loved the way the morning light caught the natural highlights of her hair. 

“What should we do today?” he asked, sitting up so he was propped against his headboard and pulling her into his lap. He leaned down to kiss her shoulder where the collar of his too-big shirt had left it exposed. 

“Breakfast, at some point,” Major said, wrapping her arms around his neck. 

Bucky nodded, his hands tracing up and down her sides. “Obviously.”

“Maybe you could show me around this fancy compound of yours,” she suggested, playing with the short hairs at the nape of his neck.

“Mmm,” Bucky said, sliding a hand up under the hem of his shirt she wore to rest it on her hip. “Sounds like a plan. What else?”

“Take me for another ride on your motorcycle?” she offered.

“I’d like to take you for another ride on something, sugar,” he teased, playfully nipping at the delicate skin of her neck.

“Bucky,” Major chastised, pulling back to look him in the eyes with a smile. “If you wanted to just stay in bed and have sex all day, you could have just said so.”

“I want to stay in bed and have sex all day.,” he deadpanned, trying to fight his grin.

Major scoffed and rolled her eyes. “It’s like you only want me for one thing, Sergeant.”

Bucky felt his entire body stiffen at the accusation, and he sat up straighter. “Sugar– Major, no! Of course not! I–”

She started laughing and gently swatted his chest. “Relax, Bucky; I was kidding. I absolutely do not mind having all the sex with you. I don’t know if you’re aware of this or not, but you’re actually quite good at it.”

He let out a breath in relief, but something still didn’t sit right with him. Yes, since meeting Major just four days ago, they had fucked. A lot. But he wanted more from her than that. He wanted to give her more than that. 

“I think I’m about to say something really stupid,” Bucky said slowly, hoping he was making the right call.

Major raised an eyebrow. “Okay,” she said, dragging the word out. “I’m proud of you for being able to recognize that beforehand, I guess?”

Bucky’s lips puckered disapprovingly. “Smartass,” he said. Major just laughed and pressed her forehead into the crook of his shoulder, letting him continue. “I think we should stop having sex.”

She pulled back, the look on her face full of such shock and disappointment that it was Bucky’s turn to laugh at her. “You can’t be serious!” she exclaimed. 

“I’m not saying, you know, forever,” he said, running his hands up and down her arms to console her. “Or even long-term. Just for, like, a little while.” 

“But, why?” Major whined, sounding like a child who was told she couldn’t have ice cream after dinner. “I thought you liked it.”

“Oh, sugar,” Bucky said, pulling her close again, “I fucking love it. I just want us to be more than that, you know? I don’t ever want you to think that that’s all I want from you.”

“Bucky, I was just joking around. I know that’s not–”

“I want us to last, Major,” Bucky interrupted her to confess. “I want us to last a good, long time. And if we’re gonna do that, we have to have more than just fucking between us. I want to know everything about you. And I want you to know everything about me. Hell, I wanna be everything you need. I want this to be real, and strong, and to have all kinds of intimacy with you beyond just physical stuff. It’s not that I don’t fucking love fucking you–” he smiled when she snorted at his phrasing– “it’s just that I don’t want that to be the only thing I love about you.”

He hoped she understood what he was trying to say without him actually having to say it: He wanted to fall in love with her–  more than anything he had ever wanted in his entire existence. He was more than halfway there already, if he was being honest with himself, but he was suddenly afraid that if they didn’t slow things down between them, if they didn’t take the time to get to know more than just each other’s bodies, they were going to fizzle out before they could truly shine together. 

Major’s eyes were wide and glossy as she studied his face. Bucky held his breath as she took in what he had said, knowing in his heart that if she didn’t agree, if she only wanted him for sex and nothing else, he’d cave in a heartbeat, just to keep her close.

“Okay,” she said softly. “I want that, too, so, okay.”

Bucky let out the breath he wasn’t aware he was holding. “Thank fuck,” he said, bringing his lips to hers for a kiss. 

“Now, when you say ‘no sex,’” Major began, “are you talking ‘no penetration,’ or can we still–”

“Neither one of us gets to use any part of our bodies to get the other one off,” Bucky said resolutely.

Major frowned at his declaration, and the sight was so alluring that Bucky was instantly second guessing himself. “That just seems unnecessarily cruel, Sarge,” she pouted. 

Damn it, he thought, it did seem unnecessarily cruel. He was already caving, and it had barely been a few minutes! 

“I know, sugar, I know. But I think we’ll be better for it.” He really did. He just had to keep reminding himself of that.

Major’s pout deepened. “I know,” she said. “Logically, it makes sense.” She sighed. “How long?”

“In all honesty,” Bucky said with a chuckle, “I haven’t really thought that far ahead. A couple of weeks? At least until after I’ve taken you out on a few more proper dates. Treat you right, you know?”

She threw her head back overdramatically. “A couple weeks?!” she cried. “How am I supposed to function without that good dick, Bucky?”

“Well, now you’re just being theatrical, doll,” Bucky smiled. 

“Fun fact,” Major said, “I did theater all four years in high school. I even got to play Sarah in our production of Guys and Dolls my senior year.”

Bucky smiled. “Well, I don’t know what that is, doll, but see! That’s something I wouldn’t have learned about you if we were having sex right now!”

Major’s laugh was rich, and it made Bucky think of hot chocolate on a winter’s day. Of a kiss on a scraped knee. “Fair enough,” she told him. “But it’s a crime that you don’t know what Guys and Dolls is.”

“So, that’s what we’ll do today, then,” Bucky said. “Show me this Guys and Dolls, doll.” He chuckled, amused with himself.

Major rolled her eyes good naturedly. “I’m going to need some breakfast, first,” she told him, getting off his lap and the bed. She raised her arms over her head in an elongated stretch, and Bucky couldn’t help but admire the way his shirt crept up her thighs, showing more and more of her tantalizing skin until--

No, he had to remind himself. They were going to be putting a temporary moratorium on that kind of thinking. God, this was going to be so much harder than he thought it would be.

He and Major took a shower together, and while there was an excessive amount of touching, they managed to keep it relatively tame. Afterwards, Bucky offered Major another of his shirts to wear, but she paused as she was collecting the rest of her clothes from where they’d scattered them across his room the night before.

“So, Bucky,” she said, her voice sounding confused, “really weird question, but do you happen to have my panties in your possession, by any chance?”

Bucky paused in the middle of toweling off his hair and looked up at her. “What?” he asked, thinking he must have heard her incorrectly.

“My underwear,” Major clarified. “I can’t find my underwear.”

Bucky snorted a laugh. “They’ve gotta be here somewhere, sugar,” he said, walking over to where she stood to help her look. “It’s not like I have a lot of stuff for them to hide behind.”

For the next few minutes, they searched the room, but they came up empty again and again.

“You don’t remember where you might have tossed them when you took them off last night?” he asked her.

Major looked at him. “You took them off me last night,” she said. “When you took off my shorts, you pulled them off, too.”

Bucky thought back to the previous evening. They’d been in a rush to get each other’s clothes off, but he was fairly confident he’d only removed her shorts. “Did…” he paused, the question he was about to pose making him a little shy. “Did you forget to put them back on before we left the woods?”

Major’s hands flew to her mouth. “Oh my god,” she said, trying to suppress a giggle. “I honestly don’t know! It was dark and I don’t remember! Oh, shit! Bucky!” She was trying so hard now not to laugh. “Did I leave my soaked panties in a fucking public park?!”

“That’s pretty deviant of you, doll,” he laughed. Major playfully swatted his chest. 

“It’s your fault!” she exclaimed.

“My fault?” Bucky was faux-affronted. “How was it my fault you forgot your knickers?”

“You just had to make that comment about imagining me in only the dog tags,” she chastised. “You knew exactly where that would lead.”

Bucky couldn’t fault her logic there. “Fair enough, sugar,” he said, wrapping his arms around her. “I take full responsibility.”

“And now you’re going to have to live with the knowledge that I’m going to be walking around all day without any panties on, and there’s not a damned thing you can do about it, because you had to go and decide we shouldn’t have sex anymore.”

Bucky groaned. “Ugh, the me of an hour and a half ago was a moron. Remind me again why I thought that was a good idea?” he begged her. 

“Nope,” Major said. “That’s a hole you dug for yourself. Now you have to lie in it.”

“Lie in it with me?” he asked, putting his most charming smile on display for her.

She stood on her tiptoes to kiss him. “Only if you keep your hands to yourself.”

*

To Bucky’s surprise, the rest of their day together went by in a flash, and he had a great time with Major– even if they both had kept all of their clothes on. He’d taken her on his bike to get a late breakfast at Melinda’s, and while Major had excused herself to the restroom, Mya had approached him.

“I like this one for you, Bucky,” she’d said with a knowing grin. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you smile so wide before. 

After breakfast, they returned to the compound, and Bucky had given Major a tour, showing her all the amenities the facility had to offer, though he avoided the building where the new SHIELD recruits did their training. He brought her down to the shooting range, and the two spent a couple of entertaining hours together in the simulator, running practice combat drills. When Bucky watched Major hit every single one of her targets, it was all he could do to not throw his “no more sex” rule right out the window.

They had lunch with Sam and Steve, and Bucky thought he was going to die from embarrassment at all the things they were telling Major about him. When he said he had wanted her to know everything about him, he wasn’t thinking about that time in eighth grade when he’d asked Dolores Carmichael to be his girlfriend and she told the whole class he was a terrible kisser. But Steve, apparently, thought it was vital information.

“You’ve either improved tremendously since then,” Major had said with a laugh, “or old Dolores had impossible standards.”

When they’d finished exploring the compound, they went back to Bucky’s room and Major introduced him to the world of Guys and Dolls on Prime Video. The movie was nearly as old as he was– 1955, she’d said, and he appreciated it, though he found the entire thing ridiculous. But Major loved it, and he loved watching her love it, and that was good enough for him. 

Before he knew it, the afternoon was waning into early evening, and it was time for him to take Major back to Langston Park for her to get her truck and head home. He found himself driving his bike a lot slower to get there than he normally would have, savoring the feeling of her hands gripped around his waist. 

When they arrived at the parking lot, Major hopped off the bike and took off the extra helmet he’d given her. “Thank you for today,” she said, leaning in to kiss him. “I had a great time, even without having sex with you.”

Bucky laughed and pulled her close for a hug. “Speaking of,” he said, “you wanna run into the woods and go looking for your panties real quick?”

Major tossed her head back and groaned. “Ugh, no!” she said. “I’m too mortified! They belong to the forest now. They've probably gone wild.” 

Bucky chuckled, but soon his expression turned serious. “When can I see you again?” he asked. If it were up to him, she’d never be out of his sight.

“Whenever you want, Sergeant,” she told him, her voice an almost-purr. “You know where I live.”

“Dinner tomorrow?” he asked hopefully. 

“I’d like that,” she replied.

Bucky brought his lips to hers, and for a moment, they stayed there, kissing languidly. Eventually, though, Major pulled away. “Alright,” she said begrudgingly, “I better go now before I lose my resolve to leave at all.” Reaching over the bed of her truck, she tossed Bucky the shirt he had worn the night before and had left there to dry overnight.

Bucky watched as Major got into her truck and rolled down the window before backing up. “Let me know when you get home safe, yeah?” he asked.

“Yes, mom,” Major said, but he could tell from the glint in her eye that his concern touched her.

He watched as she drove away, sticking a hand out the window to wave a final farewell before rounding the corner and disappearing from sight. Just as Bucky was about to re-mount his bike to head back to the Compound, his phone pinged with a text. 

He smiled to himself. Was Major missing him that much already?

But, no– the text wasn’t from Major at all.

Lily: We need to have a conversation about you standing me up last night.

Bucky swallowed.

Well, shit.

<- Previous Part / Next Part ->

[iizzeee]

Guys, I am begging you. Please please please please please PLEASE do NOT vote 3rd party, or not vote at all.

I get it. I really do. Biden’s handling of Israel has been, not gonna mince words, dogshit. Abominable. Unspeakably bad.

But we cannot afford to protest like this.

We don’t need Biden as president. We do need to keep Trump out of office. And to those who respond “well, I don’t want just the lesser of two evils,” please, for the love of god, grow the fuck up.

For one, why wouldn’t you want the lesser of two evils. It is, by definition, LESS EVIL.

“Why can’t we just have no evil, why isn’t that an option.” I really wish it was. Just as much as you. But it’s not. These are our cards, and we have to play our hand to the best of our ability.

Which brings us to two.

Trump is more evil. Like, so much more evil. We’re comparing apples and oranges here guys.

I understand that a lot of you might doubt that. The largest demographic of people advocating for third party or non-votes are in the 18-26 range. New voters, with one or no elections under their belt.

So they don’t remember.

Most of us (I myself fall under this age range) don’t remember 2016. The election, that is. They don’t remember how so many people protested Hillary vs Trump by going 3rd party or writing in joke votes, because they saw the two as equally bad. And Trump won.

Half of us don’t remember the Trump presidency. We’ve heard he was a weird, bad, bigoted president, but don’t fully grasp the scope of how bad.

So off the top of my head, here are some highlights of real things Donald Trump did while he held office.

- threw toilet paper at hurricane victims like he was trying to shoot a 3-pointer

- fired the man investigating him for election fraud

- called African countries “shitholes”

- appointed members of the Supreme Court who would go on to overturn roe v wade

- stole classified documents from the white house to hide at his resort

- tried to instate a Muslim Ban

- incited a insurrection to try and keep himself in office, and maybe hang his VP if there was time

- looked directly at an eclipse. Like no glasses, full on.

- fueled covid conspiracies. Also told people to “drink bleach” to fight the virus

- withdrew us from the Paris Climate Accord

- cofefe. Remember that? What a fun, normal thing for the president to tweet at 2am.

- employed literal white supremacists

- called Nazi’s “very fine people”

- got endorsed by the KKK, and refused to condemn David Duke

And that’s just what I can remember right now.

So if you’re angry at Biden about Palestine, please please please do not think for a fucking second Trump would be better. He would almost certainly actively be worse. He would give Netanyahu the green light. If you think Biden has used a loose leash, at least it’s some kind of leash. Trump would be all in. Full chips, flying to the Middle East to send in the bombs himself.

If you’re still hesitant, consider this last plea.

Things are bad. These shouldn’t be the only two choice we have, but they are. You can’t look at the menu, which is offering either bland soup someone spit in or actual rat poison and go “could I have some steak”.

You can order the soup and live to write a one-star review on Yelp, maybe call health inspections on the restaurant or contact the owners and say “you guys know your menu has only two options and they’re both dogshit. If you don’t add more, you’ll be unemployed soon.”

Or you can order rat poison and die.

If we elect Donald Trump in the fall, we will be eating rat poison. He has repeatedly said himself to be in favor of a dictatorship. He quotes Hitler. If he is put in office, the change we all want and so critically need will not be fucking POSSIBLE. Because with Biden, it’ll be hard, and tedious, and long, and exhausting, but at least it will be goddamn possible.

So, come November, please don’t order the rat poison.

Please just eat your shitty ass soup so we can live to get really angry about it.

Please.

[oneluckydumbass]

Well, hello and welcome to the madhouse. @sock-1574, your wish is my command, here's a quick _v2 for this short. I wrote it at 10pm and it's unedited, forgive me if you find mistakes. Also, f!reader.

In his sleep, Simon turned to wrap an arm around your waist to pull you against his body, a completely casual move that he had done so many times in the past. He just wanted to warm up a little in the chilly room, because despite the thick blanket you insisted on using, he could still use a little help. But his eyes opened when he realized you weren’t there next to him. It was odd. 

When he heard something break downstairs, he jumped out of bed, his instincts kicking in right away. It didn’t sound like a window breaking, more like a mug or a glass landing on the tiles. What were you even doing in the kitchen a little past two in the morning? He called out your name as he walked down the stairs several times, but there was no response. He heard a groan, then some soft sobbing, which made him believe something was wrong. 

By the time he entered the kitchen, you were sitting on the floor with your head between your knees, a hand gripping the back of your neck as you cried. “Baby, what’s wrong?” Nothing, you didn’t even look at him. “Hey, come on, tell me. What’s wrong?”

“It hurts,” you mumbled through your tears. 

“What hurts?”

“My head.”

“Anything else?”

“I’m dizzy, I feel like I could faint any second. I wanted to drink from your favorite mug and I broke it, I’m so sorry.”

“I don’t give a damn about that bloody mug,” Simon said with a nervous sigh as he took your hand. “The hospital is ten minutes away, it’s faster if I take you there myself. Come on, let’s get you dressed.”

He helped you up, but after only a few steps, he felt your body becoming heavier as you lost consciousness. Without thinking, he picked you up and grabbed the car keys from the table by the front door. The hospital was close to their house, he would get there sooner than the ambulance would arrive. It was a miracle that no cop stopped him because he drove like some maniac. He was in a hurry since you were still unresponsive, and deep down he was expecting the worst.

What if you wouldn’t survive whatever this was?

Once he got there and a doctor noticed what state you were in, they quickly took you from him to run some tests on you while someone asked him questions. Questions he didn’t really know the answer to. You seemed fine when you had gone to sleep, all he knew was that you had this terrible headache in the middle of the night. 

They didn’t tell him anything apart from the info that they were doing some scans. He bought a coffee and sat in the waiting room, his mind in overdrive from the events of the past hour. And then that hour became two, and just when he was losing hope someone would finally tell him what the hell was happening, a doctor showed up and asked for your relative. 

“I’m her boyfriend, what’s happening to her?” he replied when they asked him who he was. 

“An aneurysm in her brain. Well, two, but only one ruptured. We will take her to the OR now and see what we can do,” the doctor explained. “It will take a long time, you might want to go home. We will call you once we know more.”

“I’d rather stay. And I’ll call her parents, I’m sure they would like to be here.” 

The doctor nodded then left to focus on your surgery. This left Simon alone in the waiting room again with his face buried in his hands as he tried to fight back the tears. He had to be strong. He couldn’t fall apart. He was supposed to tell your parents that you were in there because of a damn aneurysm. He knew those things were deadly, but you were still alive, fighting. 

After talking to your parents, he sent Price a message, telling him that there was no way he would leave your side for god knows how long. He was considering writing to Johnny too, but in the end he decided not to. The two of you were friends, he would be worried for sure. At least one of them had to stay sharp, especially if he happened to go on a mission before you got better. 

What he wasn’t expecting was Price showing up a bit over an hour after he had sent the message. The Captain greeted him quickly then pulled him into a hug. Simon had no idea how badly he needed that, how much he craved physical contact at this point. It grounded him, made him focus on the present, not on the possible worst outcomes. Because his mind had been full of what ifs, like what if you died, what would he tell your parents and friends? It would mean he failed to do the one thing he promised to do–to protect you from harm. 

“You’re spiraling, Simon,” Price said as they sat down. 

The lieutenant nodded. “It’s hard to do anything else in this place. She’s been in surgery for two hours now, I don’t know how it’s going, her parents aren’t here yet. What will I tell them?”

With a hand on the younger man’s shoulder, Price took a deep breath. “You wrote me it was an aneurysm. Those things can be hidden for decades. No one knew it was there, there’s no warning sign as far as I know, and let’s not forget that you brought her here in time. She’ll pull through, don’t worry,” he said. 

They sat there in silence for quite a while, but it was the sort of comforting silence that Simon truly needed now. And then, just when he was about to go and ask someone if they knew anything, the doctor showed up again. “Mr. Riley? She is out of surgery for now. She will need a lot of rest here in the hospital, and it will take some time to see if there is any kind of brain damage. She is okay now, but I need you to understand that a lot of patients with this problem don’t survive for long. We will do everything we can, and it is a good thing you brought her in so soon after the first symptoms. I am… cautiously optimistic.”

“Thank you, doctor,” he said with a relieved sigh. “Can I see her?”

“Yes, a nurse will soon be here to take you to her, but you can’t stay for long.”

Price patted him on the shoulder after the doctor left. “She’s okay. She’s gonna be fine,” he said with a supportive smile. 

Simon nodded. Yes, you were alive. And he would do whatever it took to help you recover.