#a lot more editing than I usually put into my fics

[jerzwriter]

Thank you to the lovely @rosesnink for this ask from this list. She asked me to write a fic for both of our OH MC's, Jordyn & Casey. I hope you like what I came up with!

Book: Open Heart Pairing: Casey x Jordyn (F!MC x F!MC) Rating: Teen Category: One-off/One-shot/"There's only one bed" Words: 1,100 Summary: Jordyn & Casey arrive in Cleveland for a one-week symposium at the Cleveland Clinic. The women are upset that they're staying at a distant Air B&B, while attendings were put up in a posh hotel by the hospital. But Casey's determined to make the best of it, and when they woke the next morning, they realized it might not be such a bad thing.

A/N: I hope you enjoy this @rosesnink - everyone be kind - I only get to do a quick edit - I hope it's good. :)

“This is ridiculous!” Jordyn complained as they arrived at a nondescript apartment building in a Cleveland suburb. “Why are the attendings set up at the Hotel Intercontinental, right down the block from the Cleveland Clinic, while we’re stuck at an Airbnb in Beachwood?”

Casey was just as frustrated as Jordyn, but after watching her friend seethe for the entire 20-minute drive, she knew she had to help calm her down.

“I get it,” she said soothingly. “But on the bright side, this place does have a pool in the complex.”

Jordyn turned to Casey with pursed lips. “Do you seriously think the Intercontinental doesn’t have a pool?”

“I’m trying here,” Casey sighed. “At least as the only interns here since we’re the only interns here, we can avoid those creepy doctors from Kenmore that were leering at us!”

Jordyn tried to appear unmoved, but a smirk slipped through. “You make a good point.”

“I know,” Casey teased. “I usually do! So, let’s focus on the positives and check this place out!”

Jordyn slipped the key into the door, and they entered the studio apartment that would be home for the next week. It didn’t take long to see it all.

“Uhm, I believe realtors would call this place ‘cozy,’” Casey noted.

“‘Cozy’ is how they described that closet they tried to rent to me in Boston,” Jordyn countered.

“Exactly! But at least this place is clean and even cute; look at the little sunflowers embroidered on the curtains!”

“Yeah,” Jordyn smirked. “They match the bedspread... on the one bed in this room.”

Casey’s eyes widened as she bit her bottom lip. “Well, would you look at that?”

Now, Jordyn was the one smiling as she nudged Casey’s shoulder. “Lucky for you, I don’t snore!”

~~~~~

About forty minutes later, Jordyn emerged from the shower, towel-drying her long, blonde hair. Casey, who had showered first, was sitting cross-legged on the bed—the only place they had to sit — her hair pulled into a messy bun and a slice of pizza in her hand.

“You’re eating in bed?” Jordyn teased. “Great, you, me, and pizza crust crumbs sharing a bed tonight.”

Casey rolled her eyes. “Sorry, Jor. I considered eating in the west wing, but the servants hadn’t had a chance to clean it yet.”

Jordyn belly-flopped onto the mattress and grabbed a slice of pizza from the box. When she bit in, the look on her face indicated approval. “It’s not Boston pizza, but it’s not bad.”

“I did check reviews before ordering,” Casey smiled.

“I knew you would!” she smiled. “I have to admit, there are worse things I could be stuck in bed with than you and pizza crumbs.”

“Agreed,” Casey giggled, “but I still say we get rid of the crumbs before going to sleep.”

After the lights were turned off, the two friends slipped under the covers, trading jokes the entire time.

“Try not to grab my butt during the night,” Jordyn instructed.

“As long as you don’t end up spooning me,” Casey replied. “If you spoon me, I call full butt-grabbing privileges.”

After a few more barbs and a lot more giggles, the exhausted doctors fell asleep.

In the morning, Casey was the first to wake. Opening her eyes, she found Jordyn’s hand lying delicately on her hip. She didn’t make anything of it; the bed was awfully small, and she was confident she probably did something similar during the night... or was that just a dream? Regardless, she had to admit, it felt nice, so she made no effort to move it.

When Jordyn began stirring, Casey shut her eyes and pretended to be asleep. After blinking to adjust her eyes to the morning light, Casey’s “sleeping” face was the first thing she saw, and she smiled. She looked almost angelic, and Jordyn was so enthralled that she didn’t notice the location of her hand. Startled when the realization hit her, she quickly pulled it back but returned it less than a second later.

Afraid her blushing cheeks would give her away, Casey quickly “awoke” with a smile. Her voice was still groggy; but she couldn’t wait to bust her friend’s chops... or was it flirting?

“Sure,” she smirked. “Tell me not to grab your butt, and look what I wake up to.”

Jordyn did not back down. “So, should I love it?”

Casey’s eyes shot open, and their blue eyes met.

“It’s fine,” she demurred, brushing loose strands of hair away from Jordyn’s face. “You know, you are really pretty.”

“You only say that because we look so much alike,” Jordyn laughed.

“Nah,” Casey insisted. “You’re much prettier than me.”

Jordyn played with the fabric of Casey’s nightshirt, feeling the warmth of her skin through the thin, soft cotton.

“Did you sleep well?” Casey continued.

“More or less, except you are like a furnace! I felt like I needed to take my clothes off.”

“Well,” Casey said with a big stretch. “I wouldn’t have stopped you.”

Her legs flipped over the side of the bed, and she slipped into her slippers. Jordyn watched her as she shuffled the short distance to the bathroom.

“Are you flirting with me, Dr. MacTavish?”

Casey turned with a wink. “I don’t know, but we have to share that bed for a whole week... I suppose we’ll soon find out.”

Shocked by her own words, Casey rushed into the bathroom and shut the door. Where did this newfound bravado come from? She had tried to tell Jordyn how she felt dozens of times before but couldn’t garner the nerve to make the slightest move. Now, she just hoped it wasn’t a mistake. But it was all right; she could have played it off as a joke if she had.

But as Jordyn fell back against her pillows, she wasn’t laughing. She hadn’t admitted her crush on Casey to anyone, barely even herself, but if there was a chance she felt the same way... Suddenly, she was happy that they weren’t at the Intercontinental with everyone else. Breakfast alone sounded like the perfect way to get to the bottom of this.

When Casey emerged from the bathroom, Jordyn grabbed her hand. “Hey, can I treat you to breakfast?”

“I don’t know,” Casey said, her heart racing. “If you do, would you consider it our first date?”

The smiles on each other’s faces quickly put the two women at ease.

“Hmmm,” Jordyn hummed. “I suppose it could be... if they have freshly squeezed orange juice. Because I’d only take you to a classy establishment for our first date.”

“All right,” Casey winked, shocking Jordyn when she reached over and placed a kiss on her cheek. “Then let’s hope it does.”

Now it was Jordyn’s turn to rush into the bathroom and close the door behind her as her breath quickened. This was really happening! She took out her phone and began a search... there was no way she was taking any chances...

@choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics

Tagging others separately

[malevolentmango]

A preview of my piece for the @rivalszine akeshuake charity zine! So much incredible talent involved in this, I'm honored to be a part of it! Look out for its release on 2/2 👀

[lvrxly]

singledad!Ghost who lives next door with his little boy, he asks you to babysit constantly due to his job and constant busy schedule full of who knows what, he doesn't trust anyone else to know what his kid needs and likes since he grew up around you.

"Thanks again for this y/n, I should be back around 9pm, please try and get him to bed before then," Ghost says frantically as he passes his son over to you along with his diaper bag and favorite blanket.

He had a date scheduled tonight with a lady he met through his best friend, John MacTavish. You nod and wave Simon goodbye, shutting the door with a sigh as you put his son down and watch him run towards the corner you have filled with toys just for him. What the hell were you doing...

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

singledad!Ghost who has to let himself into your house at 10pm because you weren't answering the door. He got back later than expected but still, he expected you to be up. But he freezes at the door, the key still in the lock as he stares at your couch.

The door clicks open as Simon uses the key that was poorly hidden under your doormat. He's told you to change the location countless times but you don't listen, you never do. With a soft sigh he is about to speak but freezes as his eyes land on your couch.

There you laid on your back, an arm falling off the couch and a leg propped up on the back cushion, snoring lightly. That position couldn't have been that comfortable. But that's not what made him freeze. It was how his son was laying on your chest, fast asleep with his favorite blanket draped over his back. You looked as if his son was your own.

Simon has been so dumb..You had been treating his son as your own all this time, and he never saw it. He also never had seen how much he loved how you looked with his son in your arms...

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

singledad!Ghost who drops his son off with his parents for the weekend, coming over to your house with a single rose and a bottle of champagne. It's not a date, he states, more of a friends hanging out without the ruckus of a little boy running around.

"No really, you're such a big help, I honestly don't know what I'd do without you. And he loves you a lot." Simon is more soft spoken than usual as he sits at your kitchen counter, twirling the rose between his fingertips. You're frantically searching your cabinets for those champagne glasses you got all those years ago that you've never used. You swear you still had them.

"It's no biggy. He's a good kid, a joy to have around and probably one of my only friends!" You laugh, sighing after you cant find those dumbass champagne glasses and grabbing two mugs out of the cabinet instead. Not quite what you'd normally drink something like champagne out of, but it would have to work.

"So I'm not considered a friend?" Simon says with a hurt tone, taking the mug with a raised brow and a laugh. He then looks down at the mug to which it read "Male Tears" in black lettering on the front. His shoulders shake in silent laughter.

"Eh, I kinda like your son more than you, he's less broody," You tease, pouring the champagne into each of your mugs. Your mug saying "Reading is Sexy" with blue lettering. You would be lying if you said you didn't have some questionable mug choices.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

a/n: kinda wanna turn this into a fic...should I?

EDIT: FIC HAS BEEN POSTED <33

[rebeccccccaaa]

Too Sweet

______________

Spencer Reid x Reader

:: Practically at his beck and call, Spencer knows you’re too sweet for him. He knows he shouldn’t use you but he can’t stop himself when you’re also all too enthusiastic to fuck him ::

warnings :: smutttt, casual sex (kinda lol), oral (fem receiving), over stimulation, insomnia!spencer, spencer spitting facts (literally), reader is described to have hair length long enough to stick to your cheeks, obviously reader is described as afab, not sure what else i should tag so let me know what i miss :)

author’s notes :: hello, hello! honestly i saw this tik tok edit of spencer with this song (Too Sweet - Hozier) and felt a bit inspired by it and also loosely by lyrics too. please be kind as it’s been a couple years since i last wrote a fic and it’s my first one about dr reid too, so let me know if you guys like it, comment, reblog, all that jazz and critiques are more than welcome! Enjoy!

WC :: ~4k

_______________

It was pretty late into the night, it was the first weekend in weeks that the team was able to really enjoy. Spencer sat in a corner of his apartment, a glass of whiskey sat on the table as he flipped the pages of a book he’s read a thousand times before, albeit it was one of favorites. 

He was hesitant to call, he didn’t want to pull you away from enjoying your weekend but when it came to his pleasure, he put himself first. You were always too nice to say no to him and he knew that. It made him feel sleazy sometimes, but this was who he was now. Rugged, damaged, fucked up. He’d been through a lot. But in those moments where you squirmed and whined beneath him, he felt satiated. You were his drug now. 

“Hello?” he mumbled when the call picked up.

“Spencer,” your voice was a whisper as  you practically sang his name.

“You’re awake,” he said.

“Yes,” you responded.

“It’s a little late don’t you think?” he poked. 

“Then why are you calling?” 

You knew why he was calling. He only ever wanted one thing from you when the sky was dark. You didn’t mind it though. You basked in it. You kind of liked it. The feeling of having sex without commitment. Your job didn’t give you enough time for a commitment. You didn’t feel humiliated or belittled by Spencer’s desires. In fact, his lust for you turned you on in most cases. Most. 

Spencer was still a good friend to you. Regardless of sleeping with him, he was your closest friend. And recently, you noticed changes in him. Maybe you’ve kept a closer eye on him more than before but you were a little concerned. You had the right after everything he’s been through. He seemed more tired than usual, even though he was still punctual with work. Although you didn’t sleep in his bed after every time you slept together, when you did, you pretended not to notice his exits and long absences in between the long hours of the night. You could barely hear his ever so quiet footsteps roaming the living room. The clanking of coffee mugs in the kitchen and his quiet ‘Shit’ when he thought he was being too loud.

Three subtle knocks rapped his door, so quiet Spencer would’ve missed if he had breathed just a bit louder. A grin spread across his face subconsciously, glancing at the clock before taking long strides to the door. It was almost midnight. You stood in the doorway with heavy eyes, not the drunk kind, but the tired kind. He moved aside to let you in. Just like last time; and all the other times you showed up at his door for him. 

“I thought you went out tonight,” he questioned, rhetorically. 

“I did. For a bit,” you told him, “I just had one drink, then went home.”

“What are you doing up so late?” you asked, you already know the answer. And Spencer knows you know too, though he tried at first to be more subtle in his nightly fixtures. He simply sighed with amusement. You set your things down on his couch, eyes adjusting to the dim lights that hardly lit the room. The glass sitting on the table in the corner caught your eyes though. 

“What are you drinking?” you asked.

“Uh, whiskey. Neat.” 

“Ew, why?” you joked.

“It’s not that bad,” he shrugged. A whiskey wouldn’t exactly be Spencer’s first choice of drink but then again his first choice of drink wouldn’t even be alcohol. If it was, he would probably be content with a beer, or something of the sort. He was sort of going through a phase during nights. He was sleeping a lot less too. 

“I just didn’t take you for a whiskey kind of guy,” you teased.

“What kind of guy did you take me for?” he poked; he wasn’t really talking about drinks anymore though. 

“Water,” you joked, making him laugh. 

Spencer stood before you now. His hands were slightly hesitant this time to rest on your hips. 

“Is everything ok, Spencer?” you asked him. 

“Yes,” his voice was a whisper. 

You didn’t believe him, but you knew better than to press him. He was a stubborn guy and whether you did or didn’t you weren’t going to get an answer. You slid your hands up his chest before cupping the back of his neck with your hands. The kiss was chaste. You didn’t want to sleep with him if he was having second thoughts.

“Are you sure? If you’ve changed your mind I can head hom-,” you were telling him.

“No, don’t,” he rushed out. 

“I’m fine; I just haven’t been sleeping well,” he confessed. This surprised you, not because you didn’t know, but because you didn’t think he would tell you. 

“Well, then maybe I should go. That way you can finally get to bed before the sun comes up for once,” you joked with him, “Besides, you’re the one who's always telling people how important sleep is to the human body.”

Your words shocked Spencer this time. Admittedly, in the back of mind he suspected that you could sense him leaving his bed, or your bed sometimes, and that one or more times he’d been a little loud dwindling in the next room. But he didn’t realize you were fully aware of his nightly escapades. You knew him too well. You were too sweet to him. Spencer knew after all the fucked up things he’s been through he didn’t deserve your friendship; or anything more despite the fact.

“Did you know that elephants sleep the least of any other animal?” he told you, he doesn’t know why. Maybe to distract you, or seduce you. Both outcomes came often enough for him to make it a guessing game.

“You’re not an elephant.”

And then there were the ultra rare times when neither outcome happened; just now being one of them. 

“Sleep deprivation has been associated with reduced sexual desire and arousal,” he tried again.

“Well, I can help with that,” you teased. There we go.

He leaned down to kiss your lips but you pulled back in tease, smile on your face; you knew how pussywhipped you had this man. He didn’t want to fight it, he was growing desperate for you with every passing second. Rolling his eyes, he dipped his head in the crook of your neck. His hands left your hips, pulling you closer to him from your waist and lower back. Your hands began to unbutton his shirt, he was still wearing the clothes you saw him working in earlier that day. 

You stopped him, never been one to have sex anywhere other than the bedroom, taking his hand already knowing where to go after doing so many times before already. Although, it wasn’t like his apartment was a confusing labyrinth. He followed you like always. 

You reached the edge of the bed, sitting instinctively. Your hand went straight to his belt, undoing it with ease. Spencer pulled your hands away from his hips before sinking to his knees to the ground. He pulled your hips to the very edge, scratching the skin as he desperately pulled at your pants bringing them down your legs. Of course you let him.

He pushed you back and you fell on your elbows, still able to see him so clearly. See him dip his head and kiss the skin on the inside of your knee, his eyes lingering on yours. You let your head go for a second, basking in the feeling of his lips. They always made you feel so warm and tingly. One thing about Spencer, he loved foreplay. All the little things that lead up to sex. Most of the time, he craved the foreplay more than the sex itself. 

He moved your legs over his shoulders, his arms wrapping around your thighs, his hands holding your hips. His nose ran along your inner thighs. Your skin erupted in goosebumps at the feeling of his warm breath coming from his nose. His fingers fiddled against your hip bones and you wiggled a bit becoming desperate by the minute for something more than just this teasing.

“Spence,” you whined, looking back at him.

“It doesn’t matter how many times we do this, you’ll never learn patience will you?” Spencer bartered. 

“Spencer, I don’t come to you to learn patience,” you spat, not with any malice however.

“You won’t come at all with that attitude,” he snapped back, hiding a grin between your legs. 

“Spencer!” you gasped.

He chuckled lowly, bringing his hand between your thighs, pulling your underwear to the side to expose you to him. You were glistening, slick beginning to leak from you already. Spencer could feel himself getting hard. He precariously tried to not buck his hips into the bed like horny teenager.  

“Fuck,” he whispered under his breath. 

He stepped up quickly letting your legs drop harshly. His fingers curled over the hem of your underwear pulling them down and tossing behind his shoulder before returning to his previous position. He felt like he was possessed. Acting and moving like it was primal, instinctive. He wanted nothing more in this moment than to satisfy you. 

He kissed all the places except the place you needed the most. You curled your toes anticipating his next move, longing for his lips, tongue, fingers, anything to bring you pleasure. Just when you were about to sit up, ready to nag at him, his lips wrapped around your bud. 

Your shoulders gave out at the feeling. Your body electrifying instantaneously. Your eyes trained on the ceiling, focusing on everything about Spencer in this moment, the sounds, his touch, his tongue. His tongue dipping in you every now and then, making you moan feverishly. His hands spread out, pinning your hips down to the bed to try and get you to stop wiggling your hips, but he wasn’t too successful in that. 

“Knock it off,” he groaned, removing a hand wrapped around your leg to bring his fingers to your entrance.

“It’s not enough; I need more,” you whined.

“No, you want more,” he debuted, “You’re being greedy.”

“And you’re being mean,” you quipped, you always had something to retort.

“Ok, fine,” he stood up.

“Stop!” you whined, “Please, come back. Do whatever you want.”

“I will,” he sat on his knees again, instantly bringing his fingers up to rub slow circles that made your toes curl. 

He purposefully let them every now and then prod at your entrance make your hips jerk in surprise. He could see how wet you were, all of the slick telling him how needy you were. He looked up to look at your face. His eyes catching your nipples peeking through the fabric of your shirt from the pleasure already, smiling to himself. 

“Sexual arousal can cause an increase in blood flow to not just female genitalia, but also the breasts,” he told you, feeling your thighs squeeze ever so slightly.

“Is that your way of telling me my nipples are hard because of you?” you teased.

“Yes,” he stated before diving straight back between your thighs. 

His tongue did circles like his fingers, the wetness and warmth much more stimulating than before. His fingers slid inside you, curling when he couldn’t push them any further. You moaned out, reaching your hand down to comb your fingers through Spencer’s shaggy hair. The noises of everything bounced off the walls of Spencer’s shallow bedroom. It sounded vulgar but so sexy. Your heavy breathing practically syncing together. 

Your thighs squeezed more and more as you got closer to your climax; you didn’t care if you were suffocating Spencer. If he died, he died pleasuring you and neither of you minded it in this moment. Your hips grinding against his tongue chasing you release frantically. Spencer pumped his fingers in and out of you rapidly, leading you to ecstasy. 

Your breaths became shaking, as did your moans. You were overcome with pleasure as your orgasm hit you so suddenly. You could feel Spencer’s smile growing against you, you knew that he wasn’t going to withdraw despite reaching your climax. 

“Oh god, too much, Spence.” 

“First it was not enough, now it’s too much?” he taunted you, fingers still pumping in and out you strenuously. 

“Spence!” you wailed, your voice trembling embarrassingly. 

When he wouldn’t give out, you pulled at his hair as you sat up and pulled his mouth away from between your thighs. 

“Oh ow, ow, ow!” he whined. 

“Jesus, you were gonna give me a heartache,” you whined. 

“Actually the possibility of having a heart attack during sexual activity is exceedingly low. So you wouldn’t have had anything to worry about; if anything you would get a small headache,” he explained. 

“You’re giving me a headache,” you whined, making him laugh.  

You pulled him from the back of his neck, crashing his lips against yours. You loved to kiss Spencer. You always felt the closest to him physically when you kissed. Which is ironic since he was quite literally inside you most nights. Kissing, the art of kissing, was practically your love language. You always gave small pecks when you were together, privately of course. 

Spencer was worried at first, that kissing was too intimate that things would complicate fast and feelings would get hurt. But as time went on and things continued to stay normal between you, he just began to relish in it rather than worry about nothing. At least that’s what he’s convinced himself of. 

He suddenly remembered the first time you slept together. You were in his apartment one night going over some details of the case. Nothing so major, or frightening, but something wasn’t adding up. You decided to take a break, cracking open some beers and just talk. One beer became two, then three, then four and then suddenly bottles littered the pitiful coffee table in front of you. You were very clear with him, “I don’t just sleep with anybody.” But you were a woman with needs just as much as Spencer was a man, “Neither do I.”

“Things have to stay the way they are if we do this,” he told you that night.

“They will,” you assured him. 

You rested your forehead against his seeing his eyes seem different. Spencer always did this. Everytime, just for a minute or even a second, he would disappear behind his eyes, like he was reminiscing on a memory you couldn’t describe. 

“You did that thing again,” you said with a small grin on your face. 

“I know,” he blushed, “Sorry.”

“You ever gonna tell me what you’re thinking about when you do that?” you questioned.

“Nope,” he smirked, making you giggle. 

Spencer stood straight up shagging his shirt off before scrambling out of his pants. He crawled back over you settling his hips between your thighs as he dipped his head down to attach his lips to your neck. Your hand curled around his neck, sliding your fingers through his hair as his breath and lips tickled your skin. Your hips fit together snuggly, grinding against desperate to chase each other’s highs.

Spencer reached into the drawer beside your head to pull out a condom. You snatched it from his hands with a devilish smirk on your face tearing it with your teeth. You spat the foil corner from your mouth, pulling the condom from its package before tossing it aside. You reached between your bodies stroking Spencer. His face blushing red, contorting with pleasure as it’s the first of the night to feel some sort of friction he needed from the beginning. The reason he called you in the first place. 

Spencer let his hands trace your skin. Though you wouldn’t react, your skin erupted in goosebumps. Feeling him prodding against your entrance, your breath hitched, your heart skipping a beat. You always anticipated this part. No matter how many times you and Spencer spent the night together, you couldn’t ever get used to the flips your stomach made at this time. 

Spencer pushed his hips into you, his length stroking your walls making your hum in delight. Spencer’s breath became heavy as he pulled out just enough before rutting back in you with skill. Your face began to feel hot as Spencer began to find a good rhythm. You could feel the sweat building on your forehead, the air cold against your scalp. 

You looked at Spencer’s face; the veins bulging from his forehead and his neck. You cupped his cheek with your hand, catching his rhythm with your hips. Your breath became heavy, your hums became moans. Spencer wasn’t exactly the most vocal lover you laid with. Not that Spencer was your lover of course. That‘s not what you meant.

“What’s going on in that pretty little brain?” Spencer’s voice took you from your sudden trance; his pace beginning to slow. He brought his hand to your face, pulling the stray hairs that stuck to your cheeks from your sweat away.

“Nothing, just don’t stop,” you sighed, pulling his lips down to yours again. 

Spencer picked up his pace again, the sound of skin slapping echoing in the room. You felt overcome with an ambitious heat throughout your body. You pushed Spencer’s shoulders up trying your best to cool down without stopping your chase to your high. Spencer sat on his knees gripping your hips, practically ramming his hips into yours. Your back arched and you gripped the sheets beneath you. 

“Oh god, fuck,” you cried out. Your thighs squeezing Spencer’s torso as you began to get closer to your climax. 

“Shit, it’s like I can’t get enough no matter how many times I have you squirming beneath me,” he gloated. 

You could see Spencer's chest begin to get red, his knuckles however turning white. Your hands reached down gripping his wrists. Prying them away, before sitting up to straddle his legs, as they stretched forward, adjusting comfortably. You held on to his shoulders sturdily, finding an entirely new rhythm to chase your high. 

Spencer’s hands ran up your back, sliding under your shirt that you had yet to take off. No wonder you were overwhelmed with heat. He peeled the tight fabric from your skin, tossing it to the ground like he has so many times before. He unhooked your bra with ease, his eyes instantly trained to your chest. He couldn’t help his hands following, massaging the soft skin. Spencer looked up to you as you bounced up and down. Sweat dripping seductively down the valley of your breasts. 

“You’re so pretty,” Spencer whispered, staring up at you.

“I know,” you joked breathlessly, giving him a playful wink. 

Spencer let out a breathy laugh at that. The both of you were itching for a release now. Your bodies squirming against one another, aching to give the other the release. You leaned back placing your hands on his thighs, moving your hips faster and harder than before. 

“Spencer, I’m getting close, I feel it,” you whimpered, “Please tell me you’re close too.”

“I’m close,” he breathed out.

“Fuck,” you cried.

“Come on, sweetheart. Let go,” Spencer mused, he reached between you two, fingers circling quickly between your thighs to bring you to climax even faster.

You gasped out, chest heaving as you felt the waves of pleasures wash over you suddenly. You couldn’t help the loud moans escaping from you as you threw your head back; arched back and thighs tensed. Spencer’s hand held your body close to himself, and you curled forward wrapping your arms around his head as you climaxed indefinitely. Spencer grunted below you, his legs stiffening and jerking upward. Curses whispered from his lips. 

“Oh, shit,” you gasped, relaxing and slumping your body over Spencer. 

“Treat me good, like always,” he whispered, his hand coming briefly to stroke your hair gently. 

He rolled you over, laying you lazily on his bed before climbing out of the bed swiftly. He stumbled his way to dispose of the rubber. He grabbed a small towel from a drawer along with something to cover himself. He sat silently on the edge of the bed, gently cleaning you as your eyes slowly blinked, telling him you were exhausted. 

“You want to stay the night? I can see how tired you are.” 

“I’ll be gone first thing in the morning,” you quipped with a small grin on your face. 

Spencer laid beside you, covering your body with the blankets. You curled by his side, your leg falling over his hips. He turned the lights out, but the soft golden glow from the lights in the room next door streamed in. His arm wrapped around you, fingers softly stretching your back. Steady breaths against his chest gave him a sense of comfort. He was always a bit jealous how easily sleep came to you; how peaceful you looked when you did. Spencer tried to close his eyes. He tried to let rest wash over him like a blanket. What felt like seconds was an hour. And another hour. He peeked at his watch laying on the nightstand beside him, three o’clock the time read. 

Sighing, he sneaked out of bed, careful to not wake you. He skulked towards the kitchen, eyeing the small glass of whiskey still on the table. He couldn’t help smirk to himself over it. He opened the cabinet grabbing a mug, pouring a bitter liquid into it. He took a big swig of his favorite beverage, basking in all the flavors, when suddenly a beautiful figure stood before him. 

“Hey,” his voice was quiet. 

“I’m guessing you haven’t slept,” you tiptoed your way to him, you could hear him sighing. 

“Is there anything at all I can do to help you?” you whispered, carefully placing your hand on Spencer’s warm back. 

“No, but having you here is enough.”

You were beginning to blur the lines between your arrangement and your friendship. But neither you nor Spencer could muster up the courage to stop what you’ve started. Spencer indulged in your sweetness, the way you were always there to satiate his desires, the way you opened yourself to him like heaven’s gate. And you, well you would never admit it. Being in love with Spencer that is. You’ve known him for years; seen the best parts of him and helped him through the worst. You knew him the best of anyone you’ve known before. And he could say the same too. He’s never opened up to anyone as much as he has to you. 

You were perfect for each other. And yet, Spencer wouldn’t allow himself to bask in it. He truly believed he didn’t deserve you. That all the demons that haunted him in these dark hours were undeserving of your kindness, compassion, gentleness. Simply thinking about you was often enough to calm him in tense situations. But he would never tell you this. So here he was, standing in the kitchen with his coffee black at three in the morning wondering why you couldn’t see that he would never be enough for you. 

[thirstywoso]

Frustration | Niamh Charles x Reader

A/n: I haven't written a fic in around 7 years but after that "we are Chelsea" episode with Niamh I had to write this. It's not edited and it might not be very good but if you enjoy and want a pt2 or more fics send in your requests

Warnings: smut 18+ mdni

A little angst if you squint, fingering r receiving, oral r receiving, thigh riding, squirting, praise kink and masturbation

Word count: 3k

Let's go

Just like most days you were sat in the passenger seat of your girlfriends Skoda Enyaq, this time on your way to Jessie's new apartment for a bonding night with your other team mates.

Although you had your license Niamh preferred to be the designated driver in your relationship before you'd left your house you did insist to her that you we're more than capable of driving seeing as she had yet to drive around that part of Cobham. Just like you knew she would she declined and slipped into the drivers seat. Sighing defeatedly you huffed into your seat. Your girlfriend just smirking at you handing you the aux.

"Baby, you know you're my passenger princess and you are better at playing the car DJ" Niamh giggled.

"Fine!" You mocked offence.

Once down the road and into unfamiliar territory for Niamh you began to direct her telling her what lane to be in and when to signal even though she had the satnav on. She let you carry on a few times before huffing!

"Y/n/n, I've got it"

You knew she hated backseat drivers but you were just trying to be helpful, after a few moments singing along to one of the songs you had put on you'd all but forgotten not to direct Niamh's driving.

"You're in the wrong lane, Jessie's road is the last exit on the rounda... bout" you mumbled out the last part when you caught her eye and she had that stern look plastered on her face. You suddenly remembered what you had done, Niamh wasn't easily frustrated but you knew that was one of her pet peeves.

You could tell she'd stiffened up slightly where she was trying to keep calm and so you put your hand on her thigh and gave her a soft smile. She softened in your touch and smiled asking you to turn up the music as it was one of your favourite songs playing.

"Turning saints into the sea.." you sang in unison as you pulled up in front of Jessie's apartment noting some of your other team mates cars in the lot.

--

By now you had been at Jessie's for a few hours you'd all watched a movie, had eaten the pizza's you'd collectively ordered and had played some of the games as that's usually what you do at a games night.

You were currently playing Pictionary and you were on a team with Jessie whilst Niamh was with Guro, Aggie was with Cat and Zecira was with Nathalie. You and Jessie were winning by miles whereas Niamh and Guro weren't having as much luck. Yourselves mocking and teasing them, it was then you saw the way your girlfriends jaw clenched that she was genuinely annoyed at herself losing.

"Baby don't worry you'll do better next time" you laughed.

"Yeah baby, maybe we will go easy next time" Jessie mocked.

"Give over Jess, you know I could crush you any day of the week"

"Niamhy it's okay Jess was only kidding"

"Yeah Charles it's all good"

"Whatever, let's play a different game"

It wasn't often you drank considering you were a professional athlete much similar to the other girls in your presence, that's why at team bonding nights you all usually got carried away.

As it was getting later and you'd all had a fair bit to drink, Guro suggested that it would be fun to play a game of truth or dare. Which if it went the way it usually did would end in drama.

"Guro you have to go first as it was your idea, so truth or dare?" You questioned

"Hmm, dare"

After a few seconds of trying to come up with a dare for Guro, Aggie chimes in.

"I dare you to chug the rest of your drink"

"Easy" she retorted after swallowing her mouthful and tipping the now empty bottle upside down.

Zecira seemed slightly bored of the tame dares yawning slightly and took it upon herself to spice things up.

"Let's amp it up a little ladies, Jessie truth or dare?"

"Dare"

"I dare you to kiss y/n for at least 5 seconds"

"But.. Niamh"

"But.. but it's just a game Niamh won't care, will you Niamh"

"Sure go ahead" Niamh said nonchalantly, although when you looked at her to gauge how she was really feeling you could see a tinge of jealous behind the smile on her face.

"Fine"

With that Jessie leant over and pressed a chaste kiss to your lips before pulling away slightly, before she had fully sank back to where she was sitting you pulled her back in for a slightly longer kiss which she reciprocated.

"Finally, that's what I'm talking about"

Zecira always loved in her words to 'liven the party'

After a few more rounds and the feeling of Niamh's eyes burning into you, it was your turn.

"I'm going to go with truth"

Nobody had asked you yet but you had already given licked whipped cream off of Guro's cheek and gave Niamh a lap dance which definitely did not start a fire down below for her and the blush in her cheeks was from the alcohol she was drinking and couldn't possibly be anything else. You saw a smirk appear on Zecira's face and almost regretted asking for a truth.

"Who's a better kisser Niamh or Jessie"

Everyone's heads whipped around to look at you, Niamh almost getting whiplash and Jessie's cheeks burning red. You hesitated to answer because it was such a silly question, well to you at least. You soon realised that maybe hesitating wasn't a great idea because Niamh soon got up and stormed out onto Jessie's balcony.

"Thanks Z"

You went out into the balcony and shut the door, Niamh didn't even turn to look at you, she knew you were there but in the moment she didn't even want to look at you.

"Why'd you hesitate y/n/n?"

"What..? Baby please don't be silly right now. I didn't answer because it's obvious, you're the best kisser out there.. not that I kiss other girls. I mean not that I haven't in the past but you know since you and me, me and you"

Niamh chuckled whilst she turned and cupped your cheek kissing you gently.

"Sweetie shh, I know. I just get jealous sometimes like maybe you could do better than me and Jessie is so amazing and after seeing you kiss earlier it just kind of hit a nerve"

You kissed her again in reassurance

"You know you're cute when you ramble though, I'm sorry I walked out. My emotions are just not as in check as I'd like them to be, what with your backseat driving, losing game night and seeing you kiss my best friend"

"You're just a sore loser Niamhy but you know I only ever want you"

"Well after that lap dance I really want you"

"I'm that good huh?"

"That good" she smirked

"How about we head home and we sort out how emotionally.. and sexually frustrated you are honey"

Niamh didn't need asking twice she grabbed your hand and dragged you back inside. Making some poor excuse about not feeling well and needing to go home and she will make it up to them. With that she shoved you out the door quickly following bundling you into a taxi home.

Your teammates looking at each other knowingly and giggling at Niamh's excuse this time because this happened most game nights.

When you got back home Niamh couldn't unlock the door quick enough, when you finally did get inside you both kicked your shoes off somewhere random on the floor as a tomorrow problem.

Within seconds Niamh had you over her shoulder carrying you to the bedroom, you knew all that extra time she was spending in weight training was paying off.

After kicking the bedroom door closed Niamh dropped you onto the bed making quick work of her clothes and nodding at you to do the same.

Soon both of your sets of clothes were discarded haphazardly on the floor, Niamh signalled for you to move up the bed. You pushed yourself back until your head rested on your pillows and Niamh crawled on the bed above you.

For a second you thought she was having doubts because she hoovered above you staring down admiring the way your lip tucked behind your teeth and your chest heaved with need.

"Baby, if you'd rather not tonight we can cuddle instead"

"NO" she practically yelled

"Sorry, no I want to but I just couldn't help but take you all in, I can't believe you're mine sometimes" admiration dripping off every word.

"Shut up" you giggled and gently slapped her arm. Which flexed under your touch causing your breath to hitch. Niamh smirked knowingly and with that pressed her thigh down into your centre leading to another gasp.

Before long her lips were back on yours deepening the kiss, feeling your tongue run gently against her lower lip. Sighing and relaxing into the kiss. Your fingers scratching gently and the nape of her neck and tangling in the fine hairs there.

Biting your lip and carefully pulling away, her lips attached themselves to your neck slowly trailing up and down sucking on your weak points. Her favourite was just below your ear where your jaw met your neck, she could spend all day there if you let her. Listening to the way your breathing sped up and the small whimpers you made.

Niamh kept her attention there for awhile before sinking lower, peppering your chest with lazy kisses before taking your left peak into mouth and gently sucking and rolling the bud with her tongue. She meant on her elbow and caressed your face whilst swapping to your right breast and paying it the same attention.

Her free hand snaking between your legs making you gasp as she hit the jackpot. Her finger teasingly fuming through your folds causing her to smirk against your chest, mumbling around your nipple causing the vibrations to stir something in your lower stomach.

"So fucking wet for me"

"All for you" your head stretched back against the pillow eyes screwed shut needing more. Tight circles started to be drawn around your clit before gliding back between your folds just before it became too much. She knew your body well and better than yourself sometimes.

Your hands soon found their way into her hair as she kissed her way down your toned stomach and along your inner thighs. She continued to tease you before looking up at you. Two of her digits circling your entrance, she gave you a questioning look which you answered with a small nod.

"Words baby, you know I don't find anything sexier than consent"

"I always want to make sure you enjoy what I do and that you want it as much as me"

"Please Niamhy"

With that she sunk two fingers into you, your back arched slightly and she pressed gentle kisses to your thigh as she worked herself into you. It didn't take long for her to find a comfortable rhythm and it helped with you being so wet.

Then came the sensation of her gently blowing against your clit which made your legs twitch. Before you knew it her tongue was gently aiding her fingers between your legs and darted out of her soft pink lips rapidly as she lapped at your sensitive bud.

Alternating between suckling and flicking her tongue over where you needed her most. More of your juices coated her fingers and with that she slipped in a third which was rewarded with a moan that ripped from deep inside you. Curling her fingers deep inside you whilst you grabbed and her hair pulling her impossibly closer.

"Good girl baby, you're such a good girl for me"

Niamh knew how much you loved being called a good girl during sex and it worked you felt yourself getting closer to your peak.

"That's it baby, you gonna cum for me"

"Pl..please"

"Go ahead"

With a few more thrusts you were coming apart underneath her moaning her name, which she would deny but was a massive ego boost for her.

She then kissed her way back up your body before using her hips to aid in thrusting her fingers harder into you.

"One more please baby"

Before you even had a second to think your eyes went white with pleasure and you felt yourself gush into Niamh's palm.

"Fuckkkkk"

She had the biggest dopiest shit eating grin on her face, so pleased with herself.

"I didn't know you could do that"

"Neither did I" you said shyly

"Please don't be embarrassed, that was so fucking hot"

Kidding you sweetly before asking if you were ready for her to pull out. When you nodded she removed her fingers making your legs twitch slightly as your pussy ached to me touched again after what happened next.

Niamh took her finger into her mouth swirling her tongue around them cleaning every last drop of you off of her digits.

Her lips reconnected with yours before you could even think of something to say, tasting yourself of her lips brought another rush of wetness to your core.

You flipped over your positions straddling Niamh's muscular thigh which she tensed below you. Her hands gently squeezing on your breasts as you ground down. Your sensitive nub bumping along each definition.

"You want more?"

You knew she wasn't judging you and was just more curious about your needs than anything.

"Almost there"

Your hips rutted against her becoming more staggered the closer you got. Collapsing back on top of her after your third orgasm. Groaning in her ear as you came down, only adding to the rush of wetness between her own thighs.

"Your turn" you mumbled sleepily

"Not tonight sweetie you're warm out, let me clean you up"

You didn't argue, you knew she was right and you were too tired to reciprocate. You weren't as worried as you would've been at the start of your relationship because you know that not every time is about give and take and some days it's just better to give than receive and visa versa. Although you'd never turn down your favourite meal. Niamh.

Whilst you were thinking about how lucky you were Niamh came back into the room with a wash cloth and some water for you which you happily sipped as Niamh carefully cleaned you up without trying to overstimulate you.

Once finished you cuddled up under the duvet, entwining your legs with Niamh's only for her to let out a little gasp as your leg connected with her centre by accident.

"What was that?"

"Nnnothing"

"It certainly didn't sound like nothing, you're still worked up aren't you?"

Niamh nodded her head but reiterated that she didn't want any reciprocation because she knew your body was exhausted.

"Fine, I won't touch you but I want you to touch yourself for me"

"Baby no, let's cuddle and get some sleep"

With that you gently cupped her discovering how wet she really was, she rolled her eyes in response.

"Please Niamhy, for me. I want to watch you get off for me"

Niamh didn't make an effort to move.

"It'll be incredibly hot knowing your thinking about me and then tomorrow it's my turn to treat you like a queen"

Niamh sighed knowing you wouldn't let up and knew it would be quicker to get it other with so you could go to sleep.

Niamh slid her fingers between her legs as you pulled back the duvet to watch. Her fingers slipped between her pretty pink lips and sunk into herself. She wasn't one for teasing when it came to herself. She had a job and she wanted to get it done.

"That's it baby add another for me, stretch out that tight pussy for me"

Niamh groaned as she added a second finger her brows furrowing and her lip caught between her teeth as she concentrated on your voice, you wrapped your hand around her wrist so you could feel closer to her enjoying the way her tendons flexed against your fingers with every thrust inside herself.

You didn't know where to look eyes darting back and forth between where her fingers disappeared and the concentrated and determined look on her face.

It didn't take long as she was so worked up

"Please can I cum baby?"

"Hmm I don't know"

"Don't fucking tease me, I'm so close! Please!"

You loved hearing her pleas and beg but tonight you just wanted to see her satisfied.

"That's it baby let go"

Niamh's head snapped back as she released. After a few minutes of catching her breath she disappeared to the bathroom cleaning herself up. She slipped into a pair of your training shorts and one of your old college tees. In return she brought you some of England shorts and a UCLA shirt Jessie had given to her one time after she'd gone back to visit.

She helped you into the clothes before laying down and pulling you onto her chest. Your head resting listing to her chest rise and fall rhythmically, your legs draped over hers. She kissed the top of your head and tucked you both under the duvet.

After awhile you thought she had fallen asleep as her breathing was shallow and steady.

"I love you Niamh"

"I love you too y/n"

"Now get some sleep"

[navybrat817]

Take You Higher

Summary: Most people don't have an assassin waiting for them in the backseat of their car, but it's your lucky day.

Pairing: Assassin!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Word Count: Almost 3.2k Warnings: E/xplicit s/exual content, unprotected s/ex, car s/ex, p/ossessive behavior, w/eapons, pet names, canon divergent, feels (it's me), Bucky Barnes (yep, he's a warning) A/N: Nix provided me with a beautiful edit of Bucky and I began a new AU, A Different Call. This is for you, Nix, and I can't wait to share more of this world.❤️ Beta read by the wonderful @whisperlullaby , but any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

It was later than usual as you made your way toward your car, your gaze darting from left to right before you checked your phone. There was just enough light illuminating the lot where you could see where you were going, but not much else beyond your path. Everyone said it wasn't safe to walk alone at night, but you took your chances. The keys between your fingers made a quick weapon for anyone who got too close. If anyone was dumb enough to put their hands on you, the sting from the brass would be the least of their worries.

It’s almost fun when people underestimate me.

Your gaze moved to the ground before you got to the driver’s side, satisfied that no one was underneath your car as you tucked your phone in your bag. There were no vehicles on either side of yours for anyone to grab you and pull you in. If people had the chance to look inside your head, they might think you’re paranoid. You’d argue you had your own reasons to be. Danger lurked in the darkness, waiting to strike the moment anyone let their guard down.

What people didn't know was that shadows often lingered by the light and the most trustworthy of people wore masks in the form of smiles. You learned to live in the shade and make your own fragments of light. While trusting people didn’t come to you as easily, there were a few you let in. Those who didn’t mind living in the gray.

But according to the one you let in the most, you were the one who brought color into the world.

Glancing at the passenger side seat, you smiled to yourself as you got into the car and locked the door. Normally you reached right for the seatbelt. Tonight, you sat still and took a deep breath. A combination of a sweet and musky fragrance greeted you. It smelled like home.

It was why you didn’t flinch when you felt the muzzle of a gun against the side of your neck.

"Didn't anyone teach you to check the backseat before you get in a vehicle?"

The deep timbre of the voice behind you sent a chill down your spine that settled at the base. Daring to glance at the rearview mirror, you were met with a pair of cold blue eyes and a face framed by long brown hair. His lips were set in a grim line that accentuated the scruff surrounding them. Even with how spacious the back of your car was, he took up a good amount of space with his massive frame.

Death in the form of the most handsome man alive.

James “Bucky” Barnes. A former Army Sergeant turned assassin for S.H.I.E.L.D.’s STRIKE team. Most of the intelligence community referred to him as the Winter Soldier.

You simply called him yours, like he called you his.

"Maybe I’ve been waiting for an assassin to try and take me out. Only for me to flip the script and have him spare my life," you answered, smiling when he pressed the gun a bit harder against your neck. You wondered if he felt your pulse race through the metal. "Maybe even make him fall madly in love with me."

He didn't smile back at your reflection, but warmth filled his eyes in a familiar and tender gaze. "What if this assassin is already madly in love with you?"

You swallowed as he traced the barrel down to your shoulder. "Then I guess I win."

“We both win,” he whispered, sitting back in his seat and taking his gun with him. “Get back here.”

“You don’t want us to drive home?” you asked, though you made no move to put the key in the ignition.

“I said get back here,” he growled, your heart beating faster. You knew what that tone meant. You’d be lucky if you were able to walk tomorrow. “Now.”

Huffing playfully when you caught his narrowed eyes in the mirror again, you still decided to push just a little. “Bossy. Give me a second so I can- Bucky!”

You weren’t sure how he managed, but he moved your seat back far enough to grab and pull you beside him. And he managed to put his gun away before you collided with him. It didn’t surprise you though. Your man had multiple skills and was likely pent up from waiting in your car. You were pent up, too.

“Missed you,” he whispered, forcing you to straddle him.

When he framed your face with calloused hands, you expected him to pull you in for a kiss. But his eyes searched yours for a moment and you knew he was committing you to his memory once more. The love of your life had his head messed with a long time ago to the point where he lost control of his own actions and memories. While he was in a better place now, you never questioned when he needed to look at you for a second longer than usual.

If gazing at me grounds you, I’ll let you stare forever.

“I missed you, too,” you breathed, moaning when he finally brought his lips to yours and parted them with his tongue.

You didn’t realize how fast your heart was racing until Bucky slid a hand to your chest, teasing your breast through the fabric. Knowing he was back home with you was both a comfort and a sigh of relief. In the line of work the two of you were in, the promise of tomorrow was never one you could make. It made each moment that much more precious.

“Not gonna make it another minute without being inside you,” he warned you, shoving your dress up to your hips and careful to avoid the knife strapped to your thigh. You wore the garment, and the weapon he gave you, with the expectation he’d be home today. “Tell me you need me.”

“I always need you, Bucky,” you said, grinding your hips in a slow rhythm. Your barely clad pussy rubbed against the bulge in his jeans and it was enough to make his head fall back. “You need to be inside me? Need to feel my pussy around your big cock?”

“Yes. When we get home, I’ll make love to you,” Bucky snarled, making you gasp when he grasped your underwear and tore it from your body. “But I need to fuck you first, so be good and take my cock out.”

You rubbed yourself against the front of his jeans again to leave a wet spot before you raised your hips. “You better not be hurt,” you teased, but your eyes flashed in a warning as you unbuckled his belt.

“You’re free to check me when we get home. After we're in bed,” he offered, bringing a hand to your face again so you’d look into his eyes. No one ever looked at you with such devotion until he came into your life. “But I’m okay."

In a world full of lies, you trusted him completely.

"If you're okay, I'm okay," you whispered, wasting no more time as you unzipped his pants and reached inside his underwear. The size of him never ceased to amaze you. It also left you in awe how hard he felt in your hand when you wrapped your fingers around him. You might not make it another minute either without him inside you.

If anyone walked by and happened to look in the window, they’d get quite a show. At least before Bucky got his gun out and pointed it in their direction. The man would be able to find a way to shoot someone and fuck you at the same time.

"Take me in," he ordered, gripping your hips as you guided him to your waiting hole. "Please."

Bucky wasn't desperate or a man who begged. But the strain in his voice and the raw need that shone in his eyes, it told you how much he needed you. It was a heady feeling to bring the often cold assassin to the brink. It was also an honor that he trusted you when he let those walls down.

"God," you moaned as you sank down agonizingly slowly, locking eyes with him as you did as he ordered and took him into you inch by inch. It didn't matter that he didn't stretch you first. The sting was one you welcomed since you both asked for it. Who cared if you were a little sore tomorrow when you knew he'd take good care of you?

He exhaled as he allowed you a moment to adjust. It wouldn't be long until he rolled his hips up. "Only name I want you to speak is mine. Because if there is a god here tonight, it's me."

Bucky may not be a god in the literal sense, but he had been the beginning of your salvation. You walked beside him when he offered his hand. It was the path you were meant to take.

And you had almost forgotten how good it felt to have him inside you.

"Then fuck me properly, Bucky," you said, kissing him again because you could.

A low and dark grunt rumbled against your lips as he moved beneath you. Your body enveloped him in a tender and heated embrace, welcoming him home. He'd encourage you to ride him and match his pace shortly. For now, you savored every thrust of his cock, thick and bare, nothing separating you. Both of you preferred it that way.

"Ride it. Show me how much you missed me," he groaned after a minute, bringing a strong hand to the back of your neck. Your heart raced as you watched his eyes darken more. "Look at me. Don't you fucking look away."

A whimper fell from your lips, eager to please him as you braced yourself on his shoulders and raised your hips. The slow slide of his cock along your slick walls felt heavenly before you moved back down. You'd bounce on his cock all night if he let you. "So full," you moaned, never wanting to be empty again.

“Still tight no matter how many times I fuck you,” he said, licking his lips as he leaned back against the seat. The slight shift in the angle had him pushing deeper inside you and you weren’t ashamed of the loud cry you let out. “Perfect pussy and it’s all mine.”

You clenched around him at his words, your body tingling as you fucked yourself on his cock. He met you halfway, a subtle indication that you were equals and partners. Two halves of a whole. Living, breathing proof that soulmates existed in some capacity.

A reward for the hell you both went through.

“I need you to come in me,” you begged, shuddering when the head of his cock brushed your g-spot. Unduliated pleasure rippled from head to toe as he swore in Russian. His release dripping out of you later would serve as a beautiful reminder of his claim. He had every part of you. “Please. I've been so empty without you."

"I need you to come on it first,” he groaned, fucking up into with enough force that you had to grip his shirt to hold on. You weren't just heading toward your climax. He was going to catapult you there. “Give it to me and I’ll give it to you. Come. Make a mess all over me.”

Bucky gripped your chin before your head could fall back, making sure you stared in his eyes as you came. Your pleasure belonged to him and you accepted that as you shivered through your orgasm, unashamedly gushing around him. Your pussy was exceptionally greedy when it came to him and you weren’t ready to come down from the high just yet.

“That’s it. Give me everything,” he demanded, holding you still so he could thrust deep and chase his own release. Your walls twitched, the wet, sucking sound adding to the addition of your soft moans and his grunts. You gave it all and were ready to take everything he gave you in return.

“Give it to me, too, Bucky," you pleaded through the haze. "I can take it.”

He pressed his forehead to yours as he moaned your name, holding you close as he spilled inside you. Bringing a hand up to grip his hair as his hips stilled, you smiled as he let out another moan. You breathed heavily before giving him a peck on the lips, smiling wider as he began to catch his breath. His eyes always took on a gorgeous shade of blue when pleasure clouded them.

“Welcome home,” you exhaled, trying to move beside him.

“Wait,” he whispered, firmly bringing your hips back down and keeping him around his thick thighs. You gasped at the friction against your clit, your body wanting more already. “Just. Stay like this.”

He buried his face against the side of your neck, nosing along your skin as he evened out his breathing. It was almost a ritual when he came back from an assignment to hold you this way. If you weren’t in your car, your clothes would have been torn to shreds or thrown on the floor. Which you fully expected once he drove you home.

And you would make him drive since he decided to ambush you in the best possible way.

“You sure you’re okay?” you whispered after a minute, his arms wrapped around you in a tight embrace. "Nothing went wrong on your assignment?"

“It went off without a hitch,” he answered, mouthing at your pulse. “It's just getting harder to be away from home. Away from you.”

The slight vulnerability in his tone made you pause before your fingers gently combed through his hair, your heart still beating fast. You didn't have a home until the two of you made one together. “I get it,” you whispered.

Before you, Bucky didn’t mind most of his missions. That changed once he took you under his wing. It comforted him to have someone else watching his back. But the rare assignments he had to take alone, he liked them less and less as time went on. He hated being away from you.

It pained you, too.

You whined in surprise when he bit down hard on the juncture between your neck and shoulder. “You didn’t look in the backseat. Why not?"

The post orgasm bliss faded at the slight growl in his tone, yet aroused you all over again.

"Because Steve gave me a heads up that he saw you before I went into the parking lot and I checked the motion detector on my car through my phone,” you told him as his tongue soothed the sting. He could avoid being seen, so he likely wanted his best friend or you to spot him. You were all careful otherwise. "You also left me the all clear signal on the passenger seat."

Spotting the bouquet tied with a single blue ribbon before you got in the car, you knew it was safe to get in and that he was waiting for you. He bought Peruvian flowers for you on your first date and chose them because of the beauty and color. He said that you brought those things back into his life. It became a signal for the two of you, as well as a token of affection.

Maybe one day, I'll have his last name as the ultimate sign of devotion.

Bucky always had those specific flowers for you when he returned from a mission and often bought them for you just because he wanted to. And if a day ever went by that he didn’t have the flowers upon coming home, or if the flowers were out of the ordinary, you’d know something was wrong. You had your own signals for him, too.

“That punk,” he said, kissing back to your lips. “He's lucky he's my friend. I wanted to surprise you."

He could count on less than one hand how many people he loved and trusted. You and Steve were two of the very few. It was only natural that the S.T.R.I.K.E. member and former Captain kept an eye out for you and vice versa. Someone important to Bucky was important to you.

Not to mention, Steve was a good man. It seemed like there weren't many left in the world. You saw why your lover respected him and called him a friend.

“And just when have you managed to surprise me?" you asked.

"The first time we saw each other face to face," he replied.

The day he was supposed to kill you.

“That's true," you agreed after a beat. "You don’t regret choosing to save me?”

Bucky pulled back with the softest smile on his face as your heart swelled in your chest. The look of love in his eyes nearly stole the oxygen from your lungs. His thumb brushed your cheek and it shocked you when he wiped away a tear. You didn’t know it had fallen.

“I regret a lot of things in my life, but you will never be one of them,” he assured you, kissing the spot where he brushed away your tear. “I’ll never regret loving you, Kitten.”

You raked your fingers softly along his scalp. He called you that before the two of you fought and the nickname stuck. You didn’t mind it. Your stealth, flexibility, and reflexes were catlike at times. He picked up on those things immediately.

“And I’ll never regret being yours, Killer," you swore. He'd never let anyone else call him that. "Or loving you.”

You understood the assassin better than most. To some degree, you knew what it was like not to be in control. Choices were taken away from you. People used the two of you for their gain, but he helped put you on a path of hope.

All because he made a different call that fateful day.

“Put your claws away,” he groaned when you moved your nails along his head again, making him rock inside you. His stamina drove you wild. “Or we’ll have round two here instead of in our bed.”

“But you promised you’d take me home and make love to me.”

"And I will, but I may need to ruin you here one more time,” he smirked, slipping his tongue into your mouth before you could argue.

If he wants to use sex as a weapon, I’ll happily accept every wound.

Before the night was over, he took you home and made love to you as he promised. He held you so close against him that it was as if you shared one breath. He even watched you as you fell asleep, an unexpected fear gripping him. In the back of his mind, he sensed that someone was still out there waiting to take you away from him.

But if anyone ever tried, he'd burn the word down to save you all over again.

Let's hope no one is dumb enough to go after Kitten. Love and thanks! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ KoFi

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Follow You Anywhere 5

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, obsession, controlling behavoiour, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You’re online existence threatens to leak into your real life.

Characters: Captain Syverson

Note: still sick but still craving dick.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Asking for more or putting ‘part 2?’ is not feedback.

Love you all. You are appreciated and your are worthy. Treat yourself with care. 💖

You drain the glass of water and cling to it. You’re at a loss of what to do next. You’re not just trapped by this man, you’re bound up in fear. It’s a real life horror movie. 

You stand and blink long and hard, trying to steady yourself. You turn, your legs stiff and straight, your movement slow as if walking through sludge. You stop and sway as you find Sy watching you from the doorway. 

No wonder you never noticed him before. He’s so quiet, you didn’t even know he was still in the room. Well, he is a soldier after all. That fact chills you more than anything. Even if you were more formidable, you still wouldn’t have a hope. 

He wears only a pair of thin gym shorts, low on his hips and displaying his thick stomach. He’s not really fat, just burly. He’s got hair fron chest to waistline, his stomach boxy with muscle but not perfectly defined. His arms are hug and bulge without flexing. 

You gulp and look down at the empty glass and walk forward. 

“I can get that, sweetie,” he offers as you come close. 

“No, it’s okay,” you murmur, “I gotta... finish up a few things anyhow.” 

He doesn’t move. His large body blocks the exit and you poke your tongue out to wet your dry lips. His eyes narrow on your mouth and he releases a heavy exhale. 

“Excuse me,” you voice quavers, “I’m just tryna... get past.” 

“Sweetie, you sound tired, maybe you should lay down,” he reaches for you and you flinch. You see him hesitate before he closes the gap, rubbing your arm with his large hand. “Hm, I could rub your feet, we could talk. We got a lot of catching up to do.” 

“I... M-maybe later, this project is a big one,” you lie. It’s really nothing. A sixty-dollar edit you could do in your sleep. “It’s a bit early, anyway, right?” 

His hand lingers as he looks down at you. His thick fingertips flutter up your shoulder and along your neck. He turns his knuckles to graze your throat before he frames your chin. 

“You’re much prettier in person, you know that?” He purrs, “especially when you smile.” 

Your lip quivers as goosebumps raise on the back of your arms, “thanks, Sy. Um, sorry, can I get through?” 

He rubs your jaw with his thumb and tilts his head. Finally he drops his hand and sighs, smacking the side of his leg as he backs up, angling to offer just enough room for your escape. As you step out, you can’t help but brush against him. 

“Mmm,” he hums, “you smell like flowers.” 

You grip the glass even tighter, “thanks.” 

“Everything about you is just so...” he trails after you, right at your heels, “perfect.” 

You don’t know what to say to that. It’s a sweet compliment but it really doesn’t feel like it. He follows you to the kitchen, once more planting himself in the doorway, his hand on the frame as he watches you. You cough and rinse the glass, leaving it beside the sink. 

You face him again and wring your hands. As you near, he moves without being told. You skirt around him and sit at the table. You try not to shake as you open the laptop. You pause but resist the urge to look around. Where’s your phone? 

You do your best to bottle up every thought. You don't want him to sense your panic. You need to stay calm until a chance comes up. You don’t know what or when, but it has to. 

You click onto Adobe Suite and reload the same project as before. He just stands there, by the wall. You're too nervous to check if he’s looking at you.  

You hear a peculiar tapping and Aika slithers past her owner. As she approaches, you swallow and brace yourself. She sits beside you and puts her head in your lap. You gape down, in relief and surprise, and daintily touch her head. 

“She likes you a lot,” he beams and walks around the other side of the table. He drags a chair out and sits, “I told her all about you. She was over there too. Sniffin’ out IEDs.” 

“Oh,” you glance at him over the laptop. “Wow.” 

A pang stabs your chest. For a moment, you feel bad for him. You can’t begin to imagine what he saw in a war. You presume being far from home is never easy but that’s all so much more intense. 

“Yeah, tough, but we made it through,” he proclaims, “easier to get on when you got something to come home to.” 

You nod and look at the screen. This is all sorts of messed up. How stupid are you? Why couldn’t you just keep a journal? Why did you have to stream your stupid life to the stupid internet? You just assumed that no one would care. Like usual. 

You drag your fingers around the touch pad, trying to focus on the actual work. That's the only real escape you have. You need to think about anything else. 

“I thought... I thought you made your money from your videos,” he says as pushes his shoulders back, his figure broader than the chair. 

“Mm, no. Um, you know, not many viewers. I edit for other people. Pictures, videos,” you answer. It’s easier to talk when you keep it clinical. “Weddings, stuff like that.” 

“Ah,” he sniffs, “well, not about how many followers you got, just that they’re good people, huh?” 

“Sure, uh, yeah,” you sputter. 

“You okay, sweetie?” His tone sharpens. 

“Sorry, I'm just... working,” your lip twitches. “You know, I just... wasn’t expecting... you. I usually work um, between videos, and I didn’t plan on doing anymore today.” 

“Huh,” he pokes his tongue into his cheek, “but you usually do one. One early, one late.” 

You shift and Aika nuzzles your thighs, huffing until your pet her again. You bite the inside of your lip as your face singes, “right, but I’m a little behind...” 

He’s quiet. You feel him staring. He probably can see right through your lies. 

“You’re a hard worker, sweetie, I woulda guessed so,” he stands and the chair scrapes loudly, making you wince, “let me get outta your way. I can wait a bit longer.” 

You don’t look up as his shadows blurs along the edge of your vision. You wait until it fades away before you dare to peek. The TV comes back to life and you exhale. It’s not exactly freedom, just room to breathe. 

🧸

You are anything but behind. You’re so desperate to dissociate, that you breeze through your current projects. In the background, Sy lurks, the couch creaking as he sits up, his footfalls against the floor as he paces, and the little clicks and clacks of his curiosity as he looks around your place. 

As your eyes begin to glaze over from the glare, he appears on the other side of the table, “hungry, sweetie?” 

You’re not. You shrug, not wanting to give the wrong answer. 

“I could order something. I know you just shopped and all but I don’t mind.” 

“You know, that’s nice but I’m still full from breakfast.” 

“Ah, yeah, that was a big one,” he agrees, “you know, those field rations made me a bit of a glutton once I got back to civilization.” 

“Oh. You’re welcome to cook for yourself or something,” you offer. 

“You gonna stay on that all night,” he points at the computer, “that sh—the light can’t be good for your eyes.” 

“No, um, I... just finished.” 

You close the laptop reluctantly. You hear the edge creeping into his timbre. He’s getting impatient. 

“Well, if you’re not hungry, how about I run you a bath? You’re tense, you should relax, sweetie,” his hands go to his hips and tugs up his shorts just a little. 

“Sure...” you murmur. 

He goes before you can say anything else. What else can you say? He’s crazy and it’s becoming more obvious by the minute. Maybe you are too for not screaming at him to leave you alone. 

Aika exhales and falls onto her side, stretching her long legs as she relaxes. Right, he’s not the only one you have to worry about. You get up and clasp your hands together. You walk around the table, once, twice, three times. 

You hear the faucet and shudder. You stop and look at Aika then the door. You could sneak out right then. Tell your neighbour there’s an intruder in your home. With all his things and his dog. And they would see him walking in with you on the cameras like everything was all good. 

Right. It’s an option but not better than the current one. You’re more likely to piss him off than get rid of him. 

“Got it running for ya,” he comes out and you push your hands down, fighting own your fear. 

“Thanks,” you say as you cross the room, “that’s so sweet.” 

“Yeah, sweetie, no problem,” he nears and you keep from shying away, “I’m just tryna take care of you.” 

“I... really appreciate it,” you eke out. 

“You just take your time,” he runs his hands up and down your arms. “Mm,” he bites his lip, “you’re just so pretty. I can’t believe you’re real.” 

Your chest wracks and your head swells. You can’t believe he’s real either. 

You force a smile and freeze as you sense him leaning in. He kisses the top of your head and purrs, “you just go get nice and fresh.” 

He releases you and reluctantly lets you go. You sidle past him cautiously. You don’t look back as you head for the bathroom. You shut the door behind you and let the air free from your lungs. Holy crud. 

You go to the tub and stare in at the rising water. You wait for it to fill up before you shake the daze. You undress and slide into the water. You lean back and grip the edges. The world is surreal. 

You’re too restless to enjoy the warmth. Usually you would find a bath soothing. You often take them with a candle burning and your favourite soap bubbled over the surface. You don’t think you’ll ever know peace again. 

You sit up and hug your knees. You sit like that for a while. You want to fall apart right there but you know you can’t. The thing that helped you so much has doomed you. 

You pull the stopper and get out. The water’s just making you cold. You dry off and wrap the towel around you. You pick up your clothes and go to the door, pressing your ear to listen to the other side. 

You turn the handle slowly and ease it inch by inch. He’s not there. You tiptoe out, vigilant as you cross the room. You turn into the bedroom and nearly let out a yelp. You didn’t really think he’d left but you could hope. 

“These are real cute,” he lays down the button up silk pajama shirt with the matching shorts. 

“Oh, uh, sure, um...” 

“Should be nice and comfy,” he faces you with a grin. 

“Well, uh, yeah, but...” you begin to argue. You don’t really sleep in those ones, you more lounge around. “Thanks.” 

You keep your arms across your chest, the tower firmly clutched around you. You look down at the set as he remains close. You wait. Is he gonna go? 

“Aren’t ya gonna put them on?” 

“Sure, uh,” you grab them, your other hand fisted around the top of the towel, “I’ll just go do that.” 

“You don’t gotta be shy with me,” he purrs, “but I guess you’re a nice girl, huh. You like to take it slow.” 

You press your lips together, “mhm.” 

You back away, wanting to run in the other direction. You turn at the door and leave him there. You can’t help but feel he’s already seen too much. 

You flit back to the bathroom and lock yourself in. You are about to combust. You tremble as you pull on the shorts, then the shirt. You hang the towel and linger by the door. 

He's really not going to leave. For whatever reason, you hoped he might call it a night and go. Why would he do that? He doesn’t do sane things. 

“Sweetie,” the knock on the door makes you jump. “Everything okay?” 

“Yeah, fine,” you squeak. 

The door handle wiggles. You flick the lock back and he pushes it open from the other side. He lets go of the handle and steps back, his eyes roving up and down your body. 

“Ah, sugar, you look... look real... good,” his voice is smoky as he spreads his hand over his chest. “Sweet little thing, just wanna eat you—up!” 

He surprises you as suddenly he has you off your feet. He has his arms around you as he lifts you and carries you away from the bathroom door. You yelp and hit his shoulder, wriggling and kicking. Oh no! 

“Sy, please, no,” you cry out but he ignores you, “no, no, no...” you panic finally overflow and your eyes glisten. He takes you into the bedroom and your heart pounds feverishly, “please...” you wisp before he tosses you on the bed, “don’t hurt me!” 

You bounce on the mattress and hold your hand up, bracing for his next move. When it doesn’t come, you part your fingers and look at him through them. He watches you with a line in his forehead. 

“You think I’m gonna hurt you?” He rasps. 

“I... you just caught me off guard,” you push yourself up on your elbows, “I didn’t--” 

“I was just playing,” he frowns, “having some fun with my girl. Wanted some snuggles, is all.” 

Despite it all, you actually feel bad. He sounds genuinely hurt. You sit up all the way and pout up at him, “Sy,” you utter softly, “I’m tired, I’m sorry.” 

He inhales so his broad chest rises and blows it out as he rubs his shaves head. He drops his hand and sniffs, “yeah, me too. Been a long day.” 

“So... so...” you quaver as you grasp at the last of your courage, “let’s just sleep it off.” 

His jaw ticks and he tilts his head until you hear a pop, “yeah, you’re right, sweetie. Think I just got overexcited.” 

You flutter your lashes as you hold back the wave of relief. It dissipates as soon as it rises. This isn’t over. You have a whole night ahead of you and brand new day. 

[19burstraat]

Ok we all know guild me, build me exists due to my artistic abilities being very lacking in the visual arts, so rather than drawing the crows in the komedie brute, I had to write kaz in. however I had ideas for the others that I couldn't get into a fic, so I've put em down here

Kaz: (description ripped from guild me, build me):

a heavy black cape, sewn with stolen chains and jewels so that it jingled upon every movement (...) It was marked up and slit here and there, on the edges and at the collar, to give the impression of crow’s feathers, and it was made of some kind of shiny, velvety fabric that had the oily shine of crow’s plumage. The gloves were the same material, thinner and more embroidered than Kaz would have ever entertained, and the cane was a plain, inaccurate copy– (...) the mask; a silver crow’s head (...) crooked over the eyes and nose, almost like a Kaelish plague mask. But it left the mouth unblocked; of course it did. Dirtyhands needed to talk.

Inej:

Light and flimsy dark (doesn't have to be black; could be blue or grey) fabric for the veil and cloak. Has an element of spiderwebby fraying to it which is a nod to her being... Well, a spider lmao. But also meant to look ghostly and insubstantial, can sometimes see a metal shiny suggestion of knives underneath it. The veil can be parted just down the side of her face, so you can occasionally see a bit of her face, but never the whole thing. Would not be a practical costume to climb or spy in; too long and bothersome, the same way Kaz's Dirtyhands cloak would not be practical to pickpocket in. Sometimes productions get her a few cheap sheath knives.

Jesper:

Rabbit head mask, short cloak in some batshit colour like green or pink, lined w rabbit's fur and threaded with gambling chips, 'lucky' rabbits feet, coins, and stray bullets. Adornments tied on loosely so they swing everywhere when he moves. This way there's also a real risk of the Kaz and Jesper actors getting tangled together if they interact, which is not symbolic, just funny. This is our get-along Komedie Brute costume :) (we are stuck)

Wylan:

A once-fine red cloak with a high ruffly collar-- now tattered and singed and gone to seed. Little bits of wiring or string or pouches of powders etc sewn into it; sneakily embroidered with the Van Eck laurel around the edges. Mask, while elaborate and matching with the cloak, only covers the top half of his face, as if he's not quite as all-in as the others. For similar reasons, the cloak is half-length.

Matthias:

Wolf's head mask ofc, white fur cape a lot longer and more substantial than Jesper's, with heavy furring around the neck (made to bulk out the actor if they're not the right stature, which most will not be). Likely they also weight his boots to make his tread sound more imposing. Possibly a wig if they can afford one, since Druskelle are known for the long hair.

Nina:

Porcelain-doll Venetian style mask (you know the ones!) with a single black tear-- referential both to that bit in CK when they identified themselves that way in the crowd of Mister Crimsons, and the Queen of Mourning thing. Mask is covered with a very light veil, and she wears a long heavy silk cloak with a bit of a hint of a kefta, but not enough to get the Komedie Brute in shit from Ravkan Grisha lmao. Entrance usually heralded with a blue corpselight.

I imagine dependent on the production and the costumier they could look great and beautifully elaborate, or they could look cheap and shit lmao.

Bonus: I got bored and made a mock-up of a page of a Komedie play. I edited over the first folio for this, yes. Sorry to the Big W.S.

[mhahaikyuus]

comfort

a/n: anon requested shoto fic so i pulled out one of the drafts not really edited but i just wanted to post. i usually just do hurt/comfort but wanted to do something different

tags:; just fluff, a lot of pda, shoto showing his feelings, touchy reader, a couple in love

“Hi sweet boy.” You greeted giving him two kisses.

Shoto gave a smile at your cupping his cheeks slightly flushing at the contact.

You flopped on the couch with arms open. He stood closer to the couch with your hand in his.

“Yes my love.”

You tugged on his arm, “Come here.”

“But you’re laying on all the couch cushions.” He pointed out still standing over you.

“I know I want you to lay on me.” Tugging on his sleeve.

“But i’ll crush you.” He was genuinely confused.

“I don’t care. Now come here.” You demanded until he finally leaned over and pressed his weight into you.

He still was stiff until you began to trail your hands up his spine and into his hair making him relax into your neck.

“You can touch me you know? I don’t mind.” You whispered into his hair giving him gentle kisses on his forehead.

He was melting into you and your words. You’ve been dating for almost 2 months now and he still is afraid of initiating any touch towards you. It made him nervous. He had never been touched like this, not since his mom anyway.

He began to become comfortable fully pressing his weight into you and relishing the tiny kisses you gave him. Your attention was all he craved in life. Now that he had it he was never letting you go. Shoto didn’t know how touch starved he was, but if he had no interaction with you for more than 12 hours he got fidgety and nervous. He wanted to spend all his time with you.

Even doing things most boys would rather avoid, like shopping or watching you do makeup.

Sitting on the floor you were sitting criss cross applesauce with your makeup scattered around you. Shoto walked into your room in his pajamas.

“Sho? what are you doing?” You said eyes traveling from your mirror to his reflection standing behind you.

“I’m just watching.” He shrugged

“Sit down.” You said turning toward him and pulling his hand to sit on the floor.

Shoto sat down and moved his legs to be outside your hips. Uncrossing your legs you let them rest against his thighs.

He was peering over your shoulder in interest as you dug through your makeup bag.

“What’s that.” He asked with curious mismatched eyes.

Leaning against him you pulled out what he was gesturing and held it up.

“It’s a beauty blender.”

“What’s that.” He repeated pressing his finger against the spongy texture.

“It’s like a sponge to put on makeup.” You replied.

He hummed in reply and watched intensely as you applied foundation on your face.

Shoto’s hands were wrapped against your stomach with his face pressed into your spine when he wasn’t watching.

“You okay love?” You said reaching for your makeup and he began to lean his weight into you nuzzling into your back. His hair tickling you with your tank top.

“You’re just warm and soft.” He sighed

“Did you have a bad day?”

“No I just missed you.” Shoto grumbled squishing his cheek into your spine.

Shoto not only wanted your touch he needed it. Shoto never thought himself possessive until you. He wanted all your attention and time forever if he could.

When you first started dating Shoto would lock up at the thought of touching, too scared of rejection from you.

You on the other hand would gently ask him if it was alright and getting a yes, you would sit in his lap, play with his hair, hold his arm as you walked, hug him goodbye and give him gentle cheek kisses.

As time went on Shoto became less nervous and started to crave your touch.

You noticed he would invade your space for some attention. Always by your shoulder, holding your hand, and watching you; not that you minded.

In the mornings you would cup his face and smother him in kisses before getting up. One day you had overslept and forgot and Shoto was so distraught until you came home thinking he had done something.

Your house filled with your favorite flowers. You were so confused thinking you had missed an important date but your boyfriend being an over thinker, went above and beyond to get you to forgive him.

“Sho? Baby what’s going on?” You asked placing your work bag in the kitchen chair looking at the array of flowers filling your kitchen.

He peeked out your bedroom with the most worried eyes.

“I’m sorry. I never want to upset you y/n. I hope you can forgive me.” He said scrunching his hands at his sides. A habit you learned he did when he wanted to touch you but was restraining himself.

You grabbed his face you kissed him until his frown lines lessened.

“I’m not upset baby why would you think so?” You asked your thumbs gently stroking his cheeks trying to calm him down.

As stoic as Shoto was you learned many of his behaviors were rooted in anxiety.

“You left without our kiss goodbye.” He said his hands on your waist. Breathing a sigh of relief at your loving nature. Expecting you to be cold or angry with him but you welcomed him with open arms and loving eyes.

“I’m sorry i was rushing I wasn’t thinking.” You explained, “Thank you for the flowers though they are gorgeous.” You said looking around the room

“I’m happy we are not angry with each other.” Shoto said blinking with blue and brown eyes down at you.

You raised yourself up on your toes to kiss the most thoughtful man in your life.

“Me too.” You said with a laugh, “I know you made a florist’s day.”

His hands wrapped around your waist to pull you into a hug before murmuring, “I bought out two shops.”

Your eyes widened and you pulled away. “Shoto! How much did you spend.”

He shrugged, “Doesn’t matter.”

You sighed knowing it was a pointless argument with him.

Everytime you told him to not spend his money on you in exorbitant amounts he would shrug with a kiss and hand you a gift always stating, “Money is no object and I love you. If I don’t spend it on you what would I spend it on.”

“I love the flowers thank you this is more than enough.” You kissed his lips as he leaned in to you

“I love you.” He stated

“Oh! yea that too. I love you so much.” You reassured

[hyukalyptus]

are you alone? — idol!hueningkai x fem!reader | established relationship. NSFW/MDNI!

cw. phone sex (?), joi (f. and m. receiveing), switch!kai x switch!reader, chubby!reader, tummy love as usual, masturbation, nipple play, cunnilingus is discussed but doesn't actually happen, reader licks her own juices <3, older!reader kinda, pet names (baby, babe, good boy), balls, kai sends reader a nude, established relationship, lemme know if i missed anything!

wc. 1.6k

notes. reposted from my old acct! i have a bunch of longer fics in the works so i thought i’d repost something from my other account in the meantime. i wrote this awhile ago and didn’t edit it a lot so it’s not my finest work, but oh well. smut under cut !

“How’s New York?” You ask Kai over the phone. The time difference is so drastic between the two of you that the only option for phone calls was during your lunchtime while he was getting ready for bed.

“It’s good, but I miss you,” he said. You were totally fine until he said that. When he says he misses you, everything in you aches. You need a hug, a kiss, an orgasm, and a cuddle. More than anything. And he can sense it all—and he misses you just as much. “You okay?”

You sigh and say, “Yeah…just wish I could be there with you.” He agrees—having you there would be perfect. And you can’t help you couldn’t get off work. How many people could take six weeks off work to go on a world tour with their boyfriend? “What are you doing right now?”

“Getting ready to take a shower.” He chuckles just a bit before adding, “Naked.”

You cackle and say, “I know you take showers naked, babe.”

“I know. I just wanted to remind you.”

“I bet you look really sexy.”

“Wanna see?”

“Do you even have to ask?” He poses for a cute mirror selfie that’s not too revealing, just shirtless, his sexy smirk, hair messy, and the top of his pelvis just barely exposed leaving everything to the imagination. He’s so cute. “Oh, wow. I was right.” Remaining silent, you wish you could be there with him…hugging and kissing, cuddling in the shower as he rubs a loofah all over you. He’d jiggle you and kiss your tummy…a lot. “I woke up thinking about you this morning,” you admit.

“Yeah? What about me?”

“About you touching me…” You hum, the ache for him growing stronger with each syllable.

“Really?” You can hear the water turn on over the phone, his voice echoey off the bathroom walls. “Are you alone?”

“Yeah,” you giggle. “I’m at my apartment. Why?”

He hesitates, trying to put into words exactly what he wants to do with you. “No reason,” he says, a hint of a giggle in his voice. “I was just thinking about what I’d do if you were here with me.”

“What would you do?”

“Oh god…” he takes a deep breath. “You know I love your tits. I’d just bury my face in your tits and kiss all over them.” You groan, resisting the urge to slip your fingers into your lounge shorts—resorting to squeezing your tit gently, imagining it was him. “You love it when I lick your nipples,” he says matter-of-factly and you hum in agreement. “Touch your nipples for me right now.” After pulling your bra off from under your shirt, you lick two fingers, rubbing circles over yourself. Your head falls back against the couch cushion, gently sighing, all your muscles relaxing.

“That’s it, baby,” he says. It almost makes you feel silly how much of an affect those three words have on you. “Tell me what else I do that you like.”

“Oh,” you start. “I love you tongue on my clit. God…” you groan. “I so wish you were here to eat me out right now. I really need some love from you.”

“I’m sorry—”

“No, no, it’s okay,” you say, hoping you didn’t ruin the moment. “I just meant you always feel so fucking good.” Your hips involuntarily grind against nothing. “It'll be well worth the wait when you get back.” Your thighs press together, trying to find some form of friction.

“I know it will. I miss you too you know…” he says, his breath heavy.

“I know,” you chuckle. You take a minute to switch to headphones so you have both hands free.

“Start moving your hand down to your pussy, but don’t touch yourself yet.” He takes a deep breath. “And tell me about it.”

“I’m dragging my fingertips across the front of my hips,” you whisper, stomach jerking at the tickle. “They're on the inside of my thighs. I can feel myself getting wet for you,” you say, moving closer and closer to your center. “Can you tell me what you would do if you were here with me?”

“Yes, baby,” he sighs, a smile evident in his voice. “Are you on the couch?” You hum. “Well, I’d come over and get on my knees, kissing all over your belly.” That’s one of your favorite things he does to you. And he absolutely adores your tummy. Loves it when you giggle from the tickle of his lips, making your belly jiggle against his lips. “Baby, do what I say but with your fingers. Do exactly what I say. Do you understand?” He asks, his voice getting sharper.

“Yes, I understand,” you giggle.

“I’d get on my knees and kiss your belly, spreading your legs, dragging my fingers all over the inside of your thighs,” he says. “And I’d pull your shorts down, pressing my hand over the outside of your panties.” You do the same. “And I’d move them to the side really slowly, looking up at you writhing, begging me to touch you.”

Groaning in anticipation, you hear him snicker, satisfied knowing he’s teasing you, even from this far away. “And I’d slide one finger inside you, feeling how wet you are.”

“I’m so fucking wet for you,” you say. Pumping your finger in and out of your pussy, some built-up tension is relieved.

“I know you are,” he says. “And then I’d slide another finger inside you, making you grind your hips against my fingers,” he says, as if he’s telling your body exactly how to move—and it’s obeying. “But that’s not what you want, is it?”

“No,” you whine, clenching your jaw, using everything in you not to touch your clit.

“Not yet, baby,” he chuckles. “I’d gather your wetness on my thumb and rub your nipple, and you’d moan for me.” You do what he says, moaning loudly.

“Please, Kai…”

“Did you do what I said? Did you rub your nipple with yourself?” You hum. “Good. Then, I’d lick your nipples, cleaning you up.” You lick your fingers, wiping your nipple clean, tasting yourself on your fingers.

“I’d kiss around your clit, hearing you whine and beg for me.” He takes a few deep breaths, trying to steady himself. You’re not sure if he’s touching himself, but you hope not so you can give him instructions in return later.

“Baby, please let me touch my clit. Please…” He hesitates as you keep begging.

“And then I’d flick my tongue over your clit.” You finally make contact with your fingers, moaning out loud. “That’s it, baby.” It’s those three words again.

“God, you feel so good,” you say, head dropping back to the couch cushion again.

“And I’d look up at you between your legs and you’d be rubbing your nipple.” You look down, half-expecting him to be there, only to be met with emptiness.

“Fuck, baby—” you gasp. “I love it when you talk to me like this.”

“Your legs would start to shake around my head,” he says. The knot in your stomach tightens—his voice along with your fingers feels amazing.

“I’m so close, babe,” you say, close to being out of breath.

“Don’t stop,” he insists. “Do whatever you want to yourself.” You don’t change anything. This is already too good. “Cum so good for me, baby,” he says and you push yourself over the edge, moaning loudly through gritted teeth. “Yeah, that’s it. Just like that,” he praises you as you work yourself through your orgasm—legs shaking, hips flinching, breasts heaving.

After coming down from your high and catching your breath, you say, “That was fun.”

“It was…” he sighs, finishing it off with a bit of a whimper.

“Aw, I’m sorry, babe,” you say. “You need me to help you out?” He hums so, so cutely. “You’re still in the shower?” He hums again. “You haven’t touched yourself yet, have you?”

“No, I wasn’t told to.”

“That’s my good boy,” you giggle. “You’re so good for me.” You take a second, trying to think of what you’re gonna do with him. You can’t get the image of him in the shower out of your head—water rushing over his body, cock painfully hard, pushing his bottom lip out for you—all while attempting to avoid the water from splashing his phone. “How about you start squeezing your balls first?”

“Are you asking or telling?”

“Sorry,” you blink, getting in the mindset of that role. “Squeeze yourself for me, baby. But don’t you dare touch your dick yet. Tell me how it feels.”

“Wish it was your hand…”

“I do too, baby,” you sigh. “Use your thumb to rub the precum around your tip for me. I know you’re already leaking,” you say and he chuckles, letting you know you were right. That action makes him absolutely whine. “Feel good?” He stutters, finally mumbling out a yes. You’re giddy as hell. It’s so fucking cute getting him like this. “Do you wanna squeeze your cock, baby?”

“So bad…” he stutters, sending shivers down his spine.

“Get some soap in your hand and go ahead,” you giggle. “Squeeze your cock for me, yeah?” He hums, following your instructions. His mouth dropping open, he moans so fucking loud. And you’re not surprised, he’s waited quite some time to touch himself. “How’s it feel?”

“Wish it was your mouth…”

“Aw, miss you too, baby.” You smile. “But tell me how good it feels.”

“Feels so good.” His hand pumps himself and he honestly doesn’t think he’ll last very long. “Won’t last…” he can���t even get past mumbling half sentences.

“That’s okay. Go a little faster for me.” And he does just that. “Just want you to feel good, baby.” Following your instruction, he makes this heavenly noise and you know he's cumming. And you can’t help but imagine his cum spurting all over his hand, his mouth barely open, eyes squeezed shut. “That’s a good boy. Cum so, so good. So good for me.”

[foreverdolly]

𝐈 𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐑𝐈𝐃𝐄 pt 2 | 80's mechanic!austin x best friend!reader

summary: it's starting to look like he might never make it out of the friend zone. austin has been in love with you for as long as he can remember, and he's terrified that you'll never see him as anything more than a best friend and protector. with the fear of you one day outgrowing him fresh on his mind, he's now hell bent on getting you to view him in a different light. madly in love and terrified to lose you, austin butler is playing for keeps.

pairings: 80s mechanic! austin x childhood best friend!reader

word count: 3.8k

notes/warnings: SMUT! in part three, virgin!austin. . . need i say more?, i love pining and this fic is testament to that, shaky/hurried hands, who doesn't love a good best friends to lovers fic, he has a deep southern accent, austin is the small town's metalhead and he's swelteringly hot without even trying. (this is going to have to be three parts because it turned out too long after editing. the smut alone is like. . . five pages on google docs.)

Austin could tell that you were fighting off the urge to plug your ears as the band continued to pound away at their instruments. It wasn’t that you weren’t a fan of metal music- he was pleased to know that you enjoyed a lot of the bands that he loved- but while this might be metal, Austin wasn’t sure it could really be categorized as music. The drummer, Mark, was okay at best. He couldn’t say the same for the other member’s. Dave had picked up a guitar and decided that he wanted to start a band just a year ago. It was more of a “this sounds like a fun thing to do with my time” and less of a “this is my passion in life” sort of thing. 

The wavy haired blonde tried to show support where he could, like tonight for example. He had dragged you all the way out here just to add to the small crowd. You were sweet enough not to complain though. 

“Do ya want another drink?” Austin called down to you, pointing to the empty can of beer in your hand. 

You squint your eyes up at him, trying to read his lips. He repeated himself, smiling fondly when you nodded your head. You were kind enough to let him drag you an hour out of town to see this show, so the least he could do was make sure you were taken care of. Not only that, but it was something that he enjoyed immensely. Austin knew just how strong you were, but it felt nice to know that he was needed. Taking care of you made him feel like a necessary part of your life. It made it easier for him to delude himself into thinking that you couldn’t be without him. 

“I’m not drunk enough for this.” You called back to him, motioning towards the stage. 

He heard your sly little comment and laughed all the way back up to the bar, maneuvering his tall body this way and that so that he wouldn’t bump into anyone in the packed crowd. Austin was surprised that so many people showed up to the bar tonight, the turnout usually being much smaller. 

He finally made it over to the bar, the toes of his sneakers swiping one of the bar stools. He grimaced, mumbling a quick apology to the man who had been jostled around by Austin’s uncharacteristic clumsiness. He was just about to try and grab the bartender’s attention when he felt a sudden pressure on his elbow.

 Samuel’s familiar face grinned back at him, his mousy brown hair cropped short. Austin gaped when he noticed the new hairstyle, eyebrows pinching together in confusion. He didn’t have to vocalize the question, Sam already pointing at his head with a comically dramatic frown.

“Work,” The other man stated simply, shrugging his shoulders with a “what can you do” attitude. “I’ll get another beer.” He reached around Austin so that he could hand the empty beer bottle to the bartender and then pointed towards the blonde. “And then put whatever he orders for him and his lady on my tab too.” 

The blonde whirled, quickly shaking his head. He wasn’t the type of person to take handouts. Ever. Even if they are as a gesture of kindness. Austin hated the feeling of owing people anything. He’d learned from a young age that most people, even the ones that seemed to have the purest intentions, expected favors in return for nice gestures. Maybe it was due to growing up on “the wrong side of the tracks”, but good deeds always meant that someone wanted something from you. 

“Nah, man. Ya don’t have to do that.” He tried, but the beers were already being placed down in front of him. 

Sam smiled at the bartender, giving her a flirtatious wink before clapping his old friend on the back. “You’re the one that got me my current gig. Two beers is nowhere near enough to pay you back for that.” 

The regional manager of the local electric company had all of their work trucks maintained at the shop where Austin worked. All the mechanic did was tell the head honcho that he knew a guy that was going to school to become an electrician. Thanks to Austin’s meddling, Sam had a job the second he got his certificates. Even though Austin was the one that set up the interview, it was the brunette’s skill and personable attitude that landed him the job in the first place. He didn’t want to take credit for the other boy’s undeniable skill. Instead of pushing the subject and denying the other man’s kindness, Austin- although slightly begrudgingly- took the beers with a small smile, nudging his elbow into Sam’s side. 

“Well thank ya for that. It’s weird seein’ your hair short though. Ya look good.” Austin took a sip of his beer, then stared down at yours, raising that can to his lips so that he could give it a taste. 

“You’re lucky that you get to keep your long hair. I mean- it gets more and more majestic by the day, Butler.” Sam teased, reaching a hand over to rustle his wavy blonde hair. It was past his shoulders now, and though you often teased him about getting a haircut, he knew that you’d be upset if he chopped it all off. He’d had long hair since high school, only trimming it when it became too much of a bother to maintain. 

Austin could see the way Sam’s eyes slowly searched the crowd, his smile slow and wide once he found exactly who he was looking for: you. The blonde knew that the questions were sure to come, and so he was quick to change the subject. 

“I’m glad ya came all the way out here to support Dave. I didn’t know ya were still close with him.” The dark dive bar’s doors opened, more metalheads pouring in through the front door. Austin steered them away from the bar, making more room for others who were waiting behind them for a drink.

“I love Davie- but Mark is my new roommate.” Mark was the aforementioned drummer. . . and the wildest of the band. Just two months ago at a bonfire the twenty four year old had set his hair on fire- hence the fact that he was newly bald.

You had been there with the group when it had happened, and thankfully were sober enough to pour your drink over his head to extinguish the flames. Only after you knew that he was safe did you double over with laughter. Austin hadn’t been so kind. He had nearly pissed himself the second that the idiot tried to jump over the giant flames. 

“That must be. . . fun.” Austin chose his words carefully, but Sam was quick to laugh. 

“It’s never dull, that’s for sure.” He agreed, lifting his beer up to take a swig.

The song that the band was playing ended, Dave walking up to the mic so that he could loudly thank the crowd and call out the shitty title of their next terrible song. The amp's feedback was piercing, causing the entire bar to wince and cry out in pain. 

Austin started to walk off in your direction, hoping that he’d been successful in steering clear of any questioning- but a grip on his shoulder stopped him. Every single one of his friends had given him “the talk” at one time or another. It was always awkward and hard to stomach. Nobody in their right mind would pine after a girl for even a fraction of the time that Austin had with you. None of his friends could ever begin to understand exactly what he could lose in the process of vocalizing his feelings though.

“So is this a date. . . or?” Sam asked under his breath, motioning as subtly over towards you as he could. 

You had looked over in Austin’s direction a few times, wondering where he was and what might be taking him so long. You’d stopped searching for him after seeing who he was talking to though, not wanting to interrupt. Sam was the only one in Austin’s male friend group that actually had a “real” job, and you knew that the two of them had more in common than the rest of the boys because of it. You turned back to the stage, giving Dave a quick thumbs up as a form of encouragement to pump him up after the amp malfunction. The blonde clenched his teeth for a couple of seconds, knowing that he shouldn’t lie (but wishing that he could), before turning to face Sam again. 

“No- not a date. She’s friends with the group. . . and Davie wanted her to be here tonight.” 

Sam’s face hardened as he looked up at the stage, glaring after the guitarist. Austin was quick to shake his head, backpedaling. 

“It’s not like that. Just as friends. He knows that I-” Am in love with her. 

Of course he didn’t need to finish the sentence. Anyone with eyes knew how he felt about you. Thankfully, none of his friends had ever even tried their hand at flirting with you, because they understood Austin’s feelings. It wasn’t a childhood yearning or an adult ache that plagued him. It was more complex than that. It was the sort of love that often destroyed adult’s lives. The kind of love that didn’t go away, no matter how much you wished that they would. He’d been in love with you before he could even add two plus two or write his full name in cursive. That love was just as much a part of him as his own soul was. 

Which was why it always bothered Austin when people looked at him with eyes filled with pity. Just like Sam was doing now. 

“Do you think. . . do you think she knows? Maybe she doesn’t want to turn you down because she doesn’t want to lose you.” Sam was trying to help. Austin knew that. He was just sick and tired of people constantly putting their two cents in. 

These sort of comments just added to the self doubt that crippled him. The years of anxiety over his unrequited feelings kept him awake at night, and he didn’t need tonight to be ruined. Despite the shitty music, the two of you had been having fun. Wake up calls like the one Sam was currently tried to give him often put him in a rotten mood, and you’d pick up on that immediately.

“She doesn’t know. Ya know how she is- she’s sweet, trustin’, and a lil’ bit naive. We’ve always been this close, so in her mind this is all we are.” And all that we’re going to be most likely. He took a swig of his beer, wishing that he could get drunk off of his ass. He hadn’t made any sleeping arrangements with his friends though, and the last thing he wanted was for you to be sleeping on some random guys floor because he got too drunk to drive home. 

Austin cleared his throat, gave Sam one last pat on the shoulder, and started to make his way through the thrashing crowd. Behind Austin, Sam opened his mouth to say something. The shift in mood was obvious, and he needed to apologize for bringing it up, but it was too late now. Austin was gone and in a solemn mood. 

The melancholy that threatened to eat away at him for the rest of his night was swiftly replaced with rage. 

There was a man standing beside you that he hadn’t ever seen before. He wasn’t a friend. . . or even a friend of a friend, for that matter. Austin watched as the male moved his hands excitedly as he spoke, dark brown bangs hanging into his eyes, his hair almost as long as Austin’s. 

Your childhood friend stood back and watched the interaction for as long as he could stomach, wondering what the two of you were talking about to have the male in such high spirits. Were you making him feel like he stood a chance with you? Had he been too late walking back to the bar, the two of you having already exchanged contact information? He was attractive enough- though as he smiled Austin noticed that his bottom row of teeth was rather crooked. Knowing you, you’d probably find the imperfection “cute”, which further enraged the blonde. 

Austin hated getting angry over things like this. Watching you talk to other boys had been something he hadn’t had to deal with in almost two years, which he had considered to be a godsend. It was just as painful every time. It was unfair of him to feel this way, and he knew that. He should have hung back and let you talk to the guy. If he was a real friend he would have done just that. 

Except Austin had staked his claim on you far before you’d been able to fully comprehend what dating really was.

 No matter how nice of a guy Austin was, he was territorial and easily made jealous. He had his faults. He was selfish with you, and he’d willingly admit that to whoever questioned him. So he swiftly walked up beside you, sliding your beer into your hand with a smile that was too sweet. 

“Sorry that took so long. Sam wanted to show me his new haircut.” That wasn’t a complete lie. Just a little ‘half truth’. 

You smiled widely up at him, then gestured to your “new friend”. The boy straightened his back, having noticed how large Austin was in comparison to his own gangly frame. He towered above almost everybody else in the room, his shoulders broad and muscular. The blonde smiled at the boy, making sure to show off his perfect, white smile. He was being petty. He was being rude and horrible and. . . and he didn’t care. Not really, anyway. Austin could feel bad about his behavior later, but for now he had to make sure nothing happened between the two of you. 

“Austin, this is Robin. He works at the local record store.” You introduced, motioning between the two men. 

Bless your sweet little soul. You probably thought that the two of them, having similar taste in style and music, would be fast friends. Maybe Austin would have liked the guy if he wasn’t trying to steal his girl. Maybe being the keyword. 

The stage lights flashed dully beside your little group, the thick clouds of cigarette smoke drowning out most of the light. You let out a pleased hum as Austin took Robin’s hand into his own, watching him shake it firmly. 

“Nice to meet ya, man.” Though it wasn’t very nice at all. “Robin. . . that’s an interestin’ name for a guy.” That was a childish jab, but Austin wasn’t above laying the guy out right here and now. That is, if you weren’t standing between them. 

You tensed beside your best friend, giving his arm a quick swat, as if reminding the giant to play nice. 

Austin barely felt it, your tiny hands doing nothing to deter him. Instead he placed a large hand on the top of your head, dragging you into his side and tucking you in tightly. Robin was about to say something- a rude remark to fire back at Austin’s insult- but froze as he took in the sight before him. Understanding flickered into his eyes, his mouth parting slightly. 

“Oh,” He whispered softly, then held his hands up in defense. “Oh, I had no idea. Really. No harm done at all. We were just talking about music. Strictly casual.” 

You were standing as still as a statue, muscles taught as you tried your hardest to feel out the situation. Was Austin pretending to be your boyfriend because he thought Robin looked suspicious? You chewed on the inside of your cheek, fighting off the urge to shrug his arm off of you. You’d hate yourself later for embarrassing him in public, and you were positive that your best friend’s intentions were good. Still, it annoyed you that he still treated you like a child. Sure, you could be a bit too optimistic at times, but you were fully capable of protecting yourself. 

The hatred in Austin’s chest fizzled out, and suddenly he felt like the biggest douche on the planet. You might be blinded by your sense of innocence, but you were often a good judge of character. Robin was a nice enough guy, and he had just been an asshole for no reason. Austin’s shoulders slumped and he quickly shook his head. 

“No- you’re fine. I’m just protective over her, especially in places like this. Ya can never be too careful… There’s a lot’a creeps out there.” Austin offered as an excuse, moving a tad closer to him so that he could shake his hand- anything to alleviate some of the awkward tension. Robin started to shuffle back, obviously scared of a potential fight, but Austin shook his head. 

He’d traumatized the poor guy. 

“So ya work at a record store? Do ya have a good thrash collection?” Something. Austin needed to think of something that might change the direction of this conversation. He could feel how antsy you were getting at his side. He didn’t have to look down to know that you were disappointed in him for his reaction. Knowing that he had upset you absolutely gutted him. He’d let his jealousy get the best of him, and because of that he’d acted like. . . well, like a complete dick to someone that didn’t deserve it. 

Robin’s grim expression softened, brown eyes pinching at the corners as he smiled- albeit a bit nervously. 

“Yeah, at the record store down the street,” Robin yelled over the music, pointing off in the direction. 

You and Austin had dropped by the place a few times, but it was usually for record signings. It was the largest store in the entire area, so any time there were any “obscure” new releases the male would have to drive an hour out just to pick it up. It was a pain in the ass, but the store owner was pretty nice and knew a handful of influential people in the music industry. 

Back when you and Austin were in highschool you had all but begged on your hands and knees to skip school so that you could get one of your “The Police” cassette signed. Much to his absolute horror you had insisted on blasting it the entire way home. Of course he put up with it. Why? Because you looked cute screaming the lyrics. 

“Ya must have just gotten the job. I was up there about two months ago and didn’t see ya.” Austin offered Robin another smile, and that was all it took for the guy to warm up to the blonde. 

Just as you thought, Robin and Austin hit it off. The two ended up talking for the rest of the night, even earning a few glares from other people in the crowd whenever their laughter got too boisterous to be considered polite. After closing out your tabs Robin parted ways with the two of you, quickly slipping his home phone number into Austin’s palm, which had been scribbled on the back of his receipt. 

You had wanted to congratulate the boys for putting on a good show, but everyone had jumped off the stage and headed straight to the overcrowded bar for drinks after their set. Everyone aside from Davie, who was busying himself with a group of cute girls that had been eying him all night. 

“Come on. It’s gettin’ late. . . let’s get ya home.” 

Austin was acting weirder than usual tonight. Sure, this particular bar wasn’t the safest place to frequent, but his earlier treatment of Robin was an overreaction. Your best friend had a bad habit of babying you far too often. He made excuses for it- telling you that the world was a rotten place and that he didn’t mind looking out for you. It had been something that you appreciated through high school, but now that you were an adult it made you feel. . . a bit too spoiled. It also blurred certain boundaries, which further confused your already suffering heart. If only Austin knew how you felt towards him, then maybe he’d start acting a bit differently with you. 

Yet here he was, opening up the door to his van for you with a broad smile that made your heart do somersaults. You wanted to blame the heat that was pooling in the pit of your stomach on the five beers you’d drank that night. You wanted so badly to blame all of this on your recent drought in romance. . . but it’s Austin. 

No one has ever treated you as gently as he has.

Men, your father included, had always acted like your wants and needs were an inconvenience. You were too “high maintenance” because you enjoyed spending quality time with your partners. Relationships have always been short lived for you. Austin had set an impossible standard for how you wanted to be treated. Even now he was chatting your head off, one hand on the wheel and the other hand mindlessly checking to see if your seatbelt was buckled, his fingers brushing against your hip as he gave it a testing tug. 

Being around him right now was dangerous. You weren’t drunk enough to make a fool of yourself, but tipsy to the point of possibly ruining everything. Because he looked beautiful in the dim lighting of the car's display. His jawline was even more defined due to the shadows, and his blonde hair looked even lighter in comparison than usual. It was longer than you’d ever seen it, falling in slight waves because of the spring humidity. 

And you really wanted to kiss him. 

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[ma1dita]

liar, liar

part two cn be found here-> truth be told

words: little under 2k

summary: sirius black is a good liar. spot how many times sirius lies in this fic.

warnings: slight nondescript smut!! errr cursing & another self-deprecating marauder, mostly unrequited love/being led on, sirius’s trauma response, fem!reader is too good for sirius, fem!reader has ‘i can fix him’ complex

a/n: guys… i thought of this prompt and the necklace Alex Russo wore in WoWP and suddenly, complex by katie gregson-macleod started playing so…sorry if this gets sadder.

(posted 9/8/23 & edited 11/6/23)

—

At the very core of him, Sirius Black is a liar. 

It’s not directly his fault, but a subliminal result of the loveless household he grew up in. Lies roll off his experienced tongue more naturally than when he’s ever tried to say I love you. So he’s convinced himself that it’s easier to live life this way, without love. If love ever fell into his hands, he’s not quite sure what he’d do with it. 

If Sirius Black could be defined, he thinks it would lack the word love and instead encompass a lot of his anger. Fiery, palpable anger, deep set in his core. That’s what he is. There are a lot of things to be angry about in this life, after all.

—

You’re 16 and this birthday party might’ve been your best idea yet. Your friends are dotted around your dorm room, along with some people you’ve invited from your classes. Among the forming crowd, you spot one Sirius Black. You don’t talk much outside of being Potions partners, and you get by with smiles in the halls and friendly touches. He’s looking at you from across the room like he knows you intimately, but that is far from the truth. Sirius Black is an enigma if anything, but what’s more unusual to you even after three shots of firewhiskey is the fact that he doesn't have any of his friends in tow. He meanders around the open space before circling back towards your direction as if that wasn’t his plan in the first place.

“Trouble in paradise?” you joke, gesturing to the space his posse would usually occupy behind him. He scoffs, avoiding the question, giving you a proper kiss on the cheek instead as he loops his arms around your waist. It piques your interest; you’ve always loved a challenge.

“Happy birthday, gorgeous.”

Sirius is handing you a small jewelry box, and you look at him dumbfounded. You’re barely even friends.

“You didn’t have to get me anything, Black. I just called you over to get drunk with me and my mates.” You giggle, cheeks red from the alcohol.

It’s a necklace. A magical, really expensive one. Sirius is gauging your reaction, scratching the back of his neck. It’s easy to put a price to something rather than show you all of his cards.

“Well, aren't I special? This is too much, Black. I shouldn’t…” Your soft hands are pushing the box into his impenetrable wall of a chest as you shake your head in disbelief. No one’s ever gotten you something this nice or expensive before. You wonder if he does this to all the other girls that fawn over him.

“It’s nothing. I insist. You keep me distracted in Slughorn’s class and for that, you get a prize just as pretty as you.” He’s holding your wrists now, rubbing them casually like this isn’t the most intimate encounter you’ve had with him yet. Somehow you can sense that he needs this more than you do. To be needed. He doesn’t want to tell you that you’re the only one making him smile nowadays since his friends haven’t talked to him in weeks. You indulge in this behavior, because it’s new and exciting, and who would say no to Sirius Black?

The party ends much later after you tease him until his wit’s end, and then it’s your whispered approval that moves him to move his body over yours, the rest of your clothes quickly flying off in his pursuit to become a part of you. Physically and metaphorically, his being overtakes you quickly. Deep into the night, when he’s fucking you into your mattress, the necklace he gave you swings back and forth against your chest with every thrust of his hips, every bump of the headboard against the wall thumping the final nails into the coffin. You can’t help but feel special as he lays kisses on your spine. You know this isn’t intimacy in Sirius’ world though. This isn’t love, it’s bodies yearning for connection, to find something meaningful. To string the words to define how to pass the time. You hope he finds what he’s looking for between your sheets and as he breathes into your hair.

Sirius is angry at the world and he’s chosen you to be his target. What color on your necklace can define the fact you wanted him to fuck you brainless anyways? What can accurately portray the shaking of his hands as he slaps the fat of your thighs? Both of you don’t remember, but all he knows is your naked bosom is glowing amber as you pant, and it looks and feels like you’re on fire. Lust has a way of consuming the body, both of you moving until you cannot anymore, anatomy animated by the need for touch.

He needed this, a distraction. And you just wanted a crazy story to tell. You keep note of the fact that Sirius likes it when you moan his name, and he makes it his mission for you to scream the name he grew up hating because it sounds pretty coming from your mouth. Because here in this room, it means something other than disappointment.

“Oh my god, baby, right there!”

“Don’t call me that. I’m not your baby.” he pants, pulling your hair roughly as he jackhammers into you. No pet names or endearments are allowed. Just Sirius, and he’ll correct you if you get it wrong. By the end of it, you’re slurring your words and screaming nonsense anyway. You think nothing of it.

He wants you as much as you’ll have him, which, when you’re 16, you think can be made a priority just to keep his eyes on you. Everyone wants a piece of Sirius Orion Black. And your hands are stretched out in hopes of partaking in this transaction of physicality and sin. Weeks later, after you seemingly fall asleep in the boys’ dorm, James asks Sirius if you’re his girlfriend. “She’s…alright,” he mumbles into the air. They’ve finally forgiven him for The Prank after your urges to get Sirius to swallow his ego. He never got to thank you for it. Gratitudes and endearments were a rarity at Grimmauld Place. 

Peter whispers in the dark of their dorm and asks Sirius if he could ever fall in love with you. With your eyes closed and your head lying against his chest, you feel him shrug as he traces a hickey he left on your collarbone. What is love to Sirius Black? He’s looking at your chest glow red, and his hand clutches the pendant in his fist, trying to dim its light. You go to sleep instead. The incandescent glow of the pendant seeps beneath your eyelids.

—

You’re 19 and sometimes you wonder if it’d be easier to be dead. Good days are a relief for all to have, presenting themselves as scarce and far apart in your new normal. There’s a war going on and you think it’s criminal to consider yourself adult enough to fight in it, but you and your friends–and your boyfriend do. You sleep in Sirius’ apartment more than your own now, but he never calls you his girlfriend, he just calls you his, and you convince yourself to not worry so much about it because death itself is coming for everyone you know. You’re together, and that’s what matters, right? There are bigger problems at hand.

Between Auror missions, Sirius has a bad habit of picking fights with you in front of your friends, which now include his friends. A lot of you comes from him, which you don’t resent. They’re lovely, but they see through the struggle. They know him too well, and you go to every gathering with an inkling that they know how mean Sirius can truly be. Old habits die hard. Tonight he yells at you because you won’t let him get a fifth beer. 

“Always thinking you know better than me, (Y/N). You’re not my fucking wife, so I don’t need to listen to you! No one wants to hang around a killjoy.”

He wrenches his grip from your thigh, nearly toppling your chair over to stomp over to the bar himself. Everyone stares at you, waiting for you to react before they judge. Before they defend their friend. His behavior has been erratic lately with his world crumbling as he knows it. But then again, Sirius has never known life without chaos.

“I know it’s not… ideal. But he’s a good guy. We’re all just going through shit right now. His brother’s missing, so I’m there when he needs me.”  Which is always, you omit from your response. You don’t mind being needed though. Helping him fight his demons is a part of being in a relationship with someone so damaged. You bring him light when his mind darkens. That is not transactional. It’s something deeper, though the words dissipate before either of you can utter it at night.

Lily reaches over the table to hold your hand, with Remus pulling his arm around the back of your chair, and rubbing your shoulder. Your chest is still glowing red, your love for him triumphing over any embarrassment he’s caused you. How you feel has always been clear, evident on your chest. What a weakness to have, to lay yourself bare to him and you wonder if Sirius did it on purpose.

He gets piss drunk as you expected and you have to side-apparate him home while you insist to everyone else that they should stay and have fun. They’re not as easily convinced, but you bid them farewell anyway. You get to the apartment and Sirius mumbles a ‘thank you’ as you help him take his clothes off and you gently tuck him under the covers, kissing him goodnight. Small moments like these are tender. They say more than anything you could put into words.

Moments later, you pretend to not hear Sirius cry, but his chest is heaving and the sound coming from his throat is so gut-wrenching that you lift yourself out from under him where he was weeping into your shoulder. In the dark, your eyes adjust to find his face in the moonlight.

“Sirius?” you breathe, fingers ghosting over the tears on his face. 

“He’s dead.” he whimpers. You’ve never seen Sirius Black let himself be vulnerable like this. Not to the Marauders, and especially not to you. There’s no carnal aspect in sorrow, though it leaves one gutted, worn down to the bone.

“My baby brother is dead, and no one knows. I don’t even have a body to mourn over.” 

He chokes back a sob, and you let his arms shroud your body, leaving the red glow of your pendant trapped between both of your ribs. You hope some of the light and some of your love seeps into him. You have plenty to give, and it’s all his for the taking, if only he’d let you.

Sirius falls asleep hours later, and you’re pinned to the bed underneath him. There’s a crick in your trapezius that you try to ignore as you stroke his hair. Maybe in his dreamless state he can find peace. You close your eyes and wonder if Regulus has found solace in death. Maybe it would feel something like this.

—

You’re 21 and most of your good friends are dead or in hiding. It’s the night before Halloween, but there’s not a lot to celebrate if real life is much scarier now.

Over the years, Sirius and you have come to an understanding. He’s flawed, with a viciously large ego and oftentimes he’s mean when he doesn’t know how to react. But he’s human. He tries now, more than ever to quell the anger born in the Black name. He tries to be gentle, though the instinct to hurt is in his blood. You’re patient, and resilient enough to take the blows, knowing what you feel is deeper than his anger, often revealing itself as his darkest fears. You like him ‘because’ and love him ‘despite’. Your cue to comfort him is usually right before he gets the look on his face that tells you he’ll say something knowing it’ll make you cry. You’ve always loved him, but now you know why. Sirius wonders every day how you’re still with him. He’s a runner, but since the day you’ve met him, you haven’t quite let go of his hand.

Usually instead of an apology, he’ll usually fuck you to oblivion, making sure your legs shake and your brain is jumbled enough to not talk about the hurt he causes you. He strokes the fire in you, and the feeling of anger that continually wracks his being can only be satiated by your touch. His skin on yours is the best place to be, but maybe there’s a part of you that likes the hurt, his anger. It's almost passionate, the only emotion he knows how to express well. You love him in a way that only you can, despite all of that. But it all blurs when he kisses you, consumes you. You especially like it when he pulls your hair.

You shriek as you come down from a release, hands rubbing the expanse of his chest. His thrusts slow as he grapples with reality, pawing at your breasts. Your hips milk him for his worth, and he groans lowly.

“You’re too good to me, wife. You’re all mine.” 

Your ministrations come to a stop as you look down at him, pendant hanging between your faces. Nicknames were a growing commodity lately.

“Wife, huh…”

The air is heavy between you two, still connected as one while you wait for his response. Let him take the lead, as it’s the role he’s more accustomed to.

“If that’s okay.” he breathes, not knowing what to do with his hands. Love has fallen into his hands, and her physical form is sitting in his lap. His grip eases as he accepts you wholly.

“Maybe someday soon.” 

A slow smile stretches across your face. 

“Ask me properly and I’ll consider.” But the glow of your necklace is more vibrant now, and you two both know your answer as he grabs your waist and pulls you down for another round.

Sirius tries to sneak out of bed in the early morning as you doze off. You wake, rubbing the sleep from your eyes, bare feet padding across your shared apartment in search of him until you see him dressed in the kitchen and holding a letter. 

“I have to go… deal with some business,” he mutters, not stepping away from the window nor sparing you a glance. Lying to someone he loves is harder than he thought it would be.

“Honey, what’s wrong?” You’re standing in the doorway wearing his shirt and his boxers. He likes it when you say his name. You could call him anything you want and he’d come running.

“James and Lily, they’re in trouble. I’ll be back by morning.”

You turn to grab your wand, planning to go with him, but he’s suddenly grabbing your arm and pulling you into a kiss, stopping your advances. He has something to lose now. You’re his, and he’ll be damned to let you follow him blindly into danger.

“You have to stay here. Everything will be okay,” he says, holding your chin. The lie sits heavy on his tongue. Maybe if he focuses he’ll see the rose-tinted hue of your irises every time he shuts his eyes.

“You’re scaring me...” You look at him in apprehension, his movements erratic and you wonder if he’s cracked and needs an exorcism. Then your heart is thundering in your chest and the red glow turns ice blue. A new feeling has taken a larger form than your love, and its fear. Briefly, you wonder how Sirius lives on edge like this. Something is dangerously wrong. He looks into your eyes, and then the cold glow on your chest. He takes a slow step back away from you, looking almost apologetic.

“Sirius Black, don’t you fucking dare.”

“I love you.”

He’s apparated and long gone before you register what he said. It sounded unfamiliar coming from his mouth, but you weren’t surprised. It was something you’ve always known. You just didn’t think that hearing it would hurt this badly.

—

The doors of the dreary prison cell screech shut in Azkaban. Visiting hours are over, and Sirius hadn’t left his space the whole two hours you waited outside in hopes of seeing him.

Tossing the lunch you packed into the bin as you push through the exit door for the last time, you think that killing him would’ve been easier than this, but he is not the victim in this story. You at least hope he got your package, as you think that maybe you could find a different adventure now, one that doesn’t involve having your feelings splayed across your chest for a murderer to come in and kill you dead. What a fool, to know someone so intimately, so innately, and for him to be a killer.

The envelope is slid under his cell door, and he opens it slowly. The necklace. Sirius sighs, and he wonders if you’ll finally let him go. It’s what you deserve anyway, now that he’ll rot in here for the rest of his life for a crime he didn’t commit. He’s hurt you enough that even if he did tell you everything, there’s a chance you wouldn’t believe him. No one does, after all. The cool silver of the chain makes goosebumps rise on the back of his neck as he slips it on. Red. 

With all the time in the world to think, he realizes that he can easily be defined by the sound of your voice calling his name. He’s called many things now besides a liar; a murderer, a deranged madman, a traitor. The only definition of himself he prefers now is one where he is described to be loving you. There are a lot of things to love about you, after all. He spends days, weeks, months, years, keeping track. He finds new ones every time he closes his eyes.

But Sirius Black is first and foremost a liar, and if there’s anything he’s sure of, is that he’s damn good at it.

—

“You say you love rain

but you open your umbrella.

You say you love the sun

but you find a shadow spot.

You say you love wind

but you close your windows.

This is why I am afraid

when you say you love me.”

William Shakespeare

love me some tunes! i listened to this while writing: complex by katie gregson-macleod

taglist: @jsjcue

[desertfangs]

Since you write a lot do you have tips for people who want to write more?

Hi, anon! I can sure try and tell you some of what works for me!

Ignore advice that you don’t find helpful (that includes these tips!)

Writing is a process, but your writing process is always going to be unique to you, so if something doesn’t work for you, trying to implement it is only going to make you miserable. Like some people will tell you to write every day, but sometimes the pressure of that is going to be too much. Basically anything that doesn’t work for you, chuck it in the bin. You don’t need it.

Put your word processor in full screen

I write in Scrivener, which has a “composition mode” but you can also just put your document on full screen to minimize distractions. That way it’s harder to flip over to check Discord or Tumblr or whatever. Of course, I still exit out of full screen every time I need to look something up in the thesaurus and then I end up spending 15 minutes screwing around on the internet so you know, it's not a perfect system.

Work on several things at once and don’t be afraid to step away if a story isn’t working

Granted, my writing method is like throwing spaghetti at the wall and seeing what sticks, so I tend to start a lot of stuff that fizzles out after a few paragraphs (or a few thousand words 😭😭) and I know juggling multiple things does not work for everyone.

I personally usually need at least 2 current WIPs, so I can switch to the second when I get stuck on the first. This means even while I’m ruminating on one fic, I’m writing another. But I have friends who literally can’t write on more than one project at a time or their brains will explode, so again, it’s just about what works best for you.

[BRACKETS]

If you’re stuck on something like a detail or a fact you need to look up or a piece of dialogue (“How the fuck would Lestat respond to THAT?” is my constant refrain, my cats are tired of hearing it), just put something in brackets like [Lestat replies with something flirty or witty] or [Fact check if X] or whatever it is, and then you can move on and keep going and not lose your momentum.

Set a Timer

If you're struggling to make yourself focus and write, set a timer for 10, 15, 25 minutes (whatever increment of time works for you!) and write until it goes off. You can keep going after if you're on a roll, or your can stop for a while, but it will get you into the mindset of writing. And even if that's all you do that day, hey, you wrote for 10 minutes!

Kill your need for perfection and that critic in your brain

I am still working on this but it’s true! You can make your WIP more perfect in editing. The old adage that you can’t fix a blank page is correct. And honestly, a lot of times I will write something and think ‘ugh this is no good’ and then go back and read it weeks later and really dig it. Or I figure out what it needs to make it better. (Or sometimes it still sucks and we just pretend it never happened.) But no one else has to see your first drafts! So don’t stress about making the first draft super good or agonize too much over word choice. Just get words on the page and worry about making it better later.

I hope you find some of that helpful, Anon!

[twinklix]

hello!! is it okay to see a soft doting dom felix x sub fem reader? i do see quite a lot of weird nsfw lix imagines and i can never read them as im pretty normal and subby and it’s rare to see nsfw imagines like that! same with hyunjin tbh <333

₍ ᐢ.ˬ.ᐢ₎˚ ✧ anything for you | L.FL

Soft Dom Lee Felix x Fem reader | wc 1.6k

an; Hi anonie! I’m sosososo sorry for the wait. the last year was hectic i've been away but i'm back to writing now! I hope you like this! i also have a way longer felix fic planned out that was originally gonna be my response to thus request ! <3

Warnings; smut, fluff, established relationship, oral (f receiving), felix is head over heels, praise, soft dom x sub, pet names (baby, angel, beautiful), unprotected sex (wrap it up!), mentions of aftercare, lmk if i forgot anything (not edited)

18+ MDNI

"is there anything else you need?!"

He asked this like it was a life or death situation. Furrowed brows adorning his usually calm and sweet face.

"No lixie," you tried to wave his worries away with a laugh, "im fine."

His face softened as he moved to sit beside you on the bed. You turned toward him and took his face into your hands. A smile spread across his face as his eyes met yours. He got like this whenever you left for more than two days, and this time it was a month.

"i just want my baby to be happy... i missed you so much" his gaze shifted down and you released his face.

"i am happy baby! All i need to be happy is you."

A bout of relief swelled in his stomach at your reassurance. He finally let himself breathe, sighing out to try and calm himself down.

“In fact, I’ll show you how happy you make me..” His gaze, now a questioning one, drifted back to you. Before he could inquire further, you reached for his hand, leading it slowly under your skirt, eyes refusing to tear from his widening ones as you did so.

He felt his fingers brush over the fabric of your soft panties. You were wet. VERY wet.

Big doe eyes met his even bigger shocked ones.

“i missed you baby~” you practically mewled, desperation laced deep in your voice, all your neediness from every night of the past month compiled together and rested in your panties where his finger slowly began dragging up and down.

The way you squirmed at his unexpected action made his dick stir in his pants. God he missed you too.

At some point he had moved you to lay beneath him on your shared bed as he hovered above you, admiring everything about you.

“wanna taste you angel..it’s been too long.”

His wish excited you and you nodded up at him eagerly. He sat up and watched with lust filled eyes as you spread your legs, skirt pooling at your legs and putting your panties on display. The wet spot he had felt before, visible to him now.

After a soft “fuck” was mumbled, he reached forward to pull your panties down your legs (with your help). The view in front of him was something he had dreamt about constantly for the past month and now here it was. All for him.

“please baby”

Your plea reached his ears and as much as he wanted to stare at you forever, taking in the sight of your wetness sticking to your thighs, dripping from his favourite place on earth, he wanted more to taste you, feel you and mostly make you feel good.

“anything for you, angel.”

He dove in, arms wrapping around your soft thighs to hold them open as he licked a stripe up your slit.

“taste just as sweet as i remember..” he groaned before wrapping his soft lips around your bud, sucking just the way he knew you loved. And he knew he was right when your hands reached down to thread through his blonde locks. Geez, when did his hair get this long you thought. Your soft whimpers made a beeline to his dick, making it painfully hard.

A strong feeling swirled through your stomach, one that you hadn’t felt in a month. The change in your voice and the tightening of your grip in his hair must have alerted him of your situation because he suddenly pulled his mouth away.

Your hands untangled from his hair and you pushed yourself to sit up on your arms, glaring at him with furrowed brows.

“it’s okay baby, i’ll give you want you want..” You looked at him questioningly as he sat up. “..but i want you to do it while i’m inside you.”

In a moment he had stripped you of your skirt, shirt and bra, taking in the sight of your body like it was the first time again. Red spread across your cheeks as you reached up to his pants, looking up at him for permission, feeling shy that you were the only one naked. After a nod and soft hand smoothing over your hair, you unbuckled his pants and helped him out of them. Them along with his shirt and boxers were discarded on the floor along with your clothes.

Before you even got a chance to look at him, his mouth and hands were on you, kissing you like you were the only source of oxygen in the room. His hands ran along your waist and breasts like he was trying to confirm you were really there after all this time and this wasn’t just another wet dream fuelled by his longing for you.

“Beautiful.” He mumbled into your mouth, voice somehow deeper than usual. He reluctantly pulled away from your mouth as he softly pushed you to lay down.

You were so needy for him, desperate to feel him after so long. He thought you looked so adorable with hands reached up to him trying to bring him closer. “want you lix..please..it’s been so long.”

And who was he to say no to you?

He positioned himself at your entrance, looking at you to see how you bit your lip and watched impatiently to feel him inside you. He pushed himself inside slowly, immediately letting out a deep groan at how tight you were.

“Fuck..” He breathed out as he bottomed out, burrowing his face in your neck to inhale your scent that he missed so deeply.

Having him inside you made you feel full in so many ways. On one hand you felt so complete and content to be with him in this way and to be able to express your undying love for each other in the most intimate way. But on the other hand, the way his length filled you completely made your walls clench and brain go empty, thinking only of him.

“Gonna move now baby.” He told you softly, moving to hover above you. He pulled himself back out to the tip, making your breath hitch, before pushing back inside you swiftly.

You moaned out softly as he developed a steady rhythm, instantly getting lost in the feeling of you.

His eyes shut as he leaned down, pressing his lips to yours, resting on his arms beside your head.

The kiss was filled with love and passion. It was just another way for Felix to express his upmost adoration for you.

He angled his hips slightly, repeatedly hitting that one spot inside you, making a string of moans be muffled by the kiss. He pulled away to look down at you, his pupils blown as he watched you lost in pleasure.

“fuck..” His deep voice growled out between groans. “.. s-so…fucking beautiful.” His words were coming out stuttered. That pressure already building inside him.

He leaned down again to press wet kisses and soft bites to the sensitive spot of your neck that always made you even weaker for him.

“baby..” You moaned out, reaching up to tangle a hand in his locks.

He hummer in your neck, his thrusts speeding up to bring more sounds of pleasure from your lips.

“That’s right baby…let me hear you.. just wanna make you feel good.” And after he said that, one of his hands snaked down your body, applying pressure to your swollen clit, causing you to tighten around him impossibly more.

“So close lixie!” Those words were such a relief to your boyfriend because he knew he couldn’t last much longer. Not when you felt this good around him and sounded this pretty below him.

The fingers on your clit, along with his thrusts sped up as he groaned out.

“B-baby!” You alerted him loudly that the coil inside of you was about to snap. But he already knew. he could tell by how your walls pulsated around him, practically squeezing his cock.

“i know angel.. i know. let go for me beautiful”

You didn’t need to be told twice as your orgasm washed over you with another loud moan. He couldn’t take it anymore either as he pushed himself inside you as deep as possible and released inside you, panting and groaning.

His hips rocked a few more times to help you both ride out your highs (and because he wasn’t ready yet to be apart from you). Only when overstimulation settled into him did he slowly pull out, instantly connecting his lips to yours as you wrapped your arms around him.

“i love you so much. you’re so perfect. i can’t be apart with you that long again.” The words poured out of him desperately between kisses, all emotions and love for you pouring through him.

“i love you too lixie.” The words were breathy as you slowly came down, smiling up at him warmly as he pulled away from you.

His eyes fell to where your mixed releases spilled from you. His heart swelled knowing he was finally connected with you again after all this time.

Your gaze moved to where his was as you giggled, sitting up on your arms. “i should probably clean myself up.” You giggled but felix shook his head, quickly and softly moving you to lay down comfortably again.

“Your not moving baby. You’re not lifting a single finger!” He declared dramatically making you giggle again. “I’ll do everything for you.” He informs before leaning down to kiss you once more.

“I’d do anything for you.”

[random0lover]

Hello !! Am I allowed to request for maybe all of 141 (If possible with your schedule !! I undestand if its not !!) or just Price and Ghost (separate) with a reader whos a military kid so theyre kinda just used to them going away for long periods of time with deployment. Bonus points if they werent aware of reader being a military kid till they break down and confess as to how abandoned and angry they feel when they leave :,)) Fluffy Hurt/Comfort thats SFW, please :)) Thank you ^^

TF141 x Gn!Reader That Was a Military Kid

Pairings: John Price x gn!reader & Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x gn!reader

Word Count: 3.7k

Warnings: Angst with Comfort, SFW, reader is mean, talk of parental death, crying, reader is called: sweetheart, love, dove. Hints at depression, John and Simon are both big softies for reader, established relationships. That should be it! Let me know if I missed any <3

Things to know: Some hc’s with mini fic parts. Should be Gn!reader as I tried to avoid talking about readers body or anything that could indicate anything other than gn!reader! Also POC friendly! If you notice anything that makes you feel otherwise please let me know! I never want anyone to feel excluded with/in my work ♡, Also a warning to anyone that decides to follow me- if you do not have your age in your bio or a pinned post I will block you… just a fair warning.

Notes: Thank you for requesting this anon! I loved the idea so much so I hope this does your request justice! I kinda went a little soft with the Price one because for some reason I can’t stand the thought of reader being mean to that sweet man (if you want though send me another request and I can write one that’s more angst filled 😊) although I did bring out the reader being angry in Simons. Another thing, I wrote this for Simon and not ghost but if you want I can write another one that has reader dealing with Ghost but be warned it will be angsty with lots of hurt from both parties! Sorry if the editing is bad I did try though lol and there will be more parts to this!

Tags: @homicidal-slvt (promised I’d tag you so here we are)

Price & Simon (You’re here!), Soap & Gaz, Alejandro, Rudy & König

(I will add the links as I post each part!)

John Price

-I feel like he may have wondered if you were a military kid since you didn’t seem to be phased by him having to leave so often

-There were other things that also made him wonder, like how you always made your bed in the mornings, how schedules were majorly important to you to the point that if you knew you were going to be late, you'd get majorly upset, and how you also seemed to understand military lingo up to a certain point. He never asked though since you didn’t talk about your childhood much so he just figured that if you wanted to tell him that you would -But he started to notice that lately, you started to seem off when you found out he would have to be deployed soon.

~~

John had been awake since the early hours of the morning. He couldn't seem to get much sleep in the few days before his next deployment. He had left the warmth of your shared bed before even the morning birds could be heard outside, hoping not to wake you with his restlessness, but little did he know that you hadn't slept at all.

By the time you stumbled out of bed with bags under your eyes and your mind feeling exhausted from the lack of sleep and your own brain tearing itself apart, it was well past 10 a.m., which wasn’t the most unusual for you, but on the day before John would be deploying it was a little odd since usually you were up trying to help him get his stuff together and would make a huge breakfast since you both weren’t sure how long it would be until he would get to enjoy a home-cooked meal again.

You had hoped to get to the kitchen and make yourself a cup of coffee before seeing John, but he was standing at the fridge, putting groceries away from multiple brown paper bags.

You made your way to the coffee pot that seemed to have a fresh pot being made and got a cup from the cabinet before he started to talk, “I noticed we were getting low on some things so I thought I’d save you a trip to—,” he pauses, causing you to turn to face him, “Sweetheart?”

You were pressing your hands into your eyes, trying to relieve the aching pressure that was remaining consistent behind them, when he made his way across the kitchen and gently cupped your cheeks, “Are you feeling alright, love?”

You didn’t mean to do it, but you flinched away from his hands, taking a few steps back so that there was some distance between you both. You could see the hurt in his eyes before they were overcome with confusion and you hated that he was looking at you as if you were a skittish kitten that would run at the smallest movement.

He reaches an arm out slowly, as if to not startle you.

“Love, what’s wrong?”

You shake your head, pulling your arms tight around you, and try to focus on keeping your breathing calm, like your parents taught you when you were little.

He takes a small step forward so that his fingers are almost grazing your arm but stops when sees you curling in on yourself, “Sweetheart, something is obviously wrong. You're crying, and your body is shaking.”

“Hey,” you finally look up into his eyes, “you don’t have to tell me what’s wrong, but at least let me help you.”

Your heart breaks from the pain you can see in his eyes. In all the time you've been together, you’ve never pulled away from him like this. Usually, you were the one open about your emotions and what you were feeling while having to coax John into telling you what was going on in his mind, “Please, darling.”

You let yourself fall into his open arms at that point, sobbing into his neck. He presses you against his chest, gently speaking into your ear, assuring you that everything is fine, that he is here for you, and that he will always be there.

You mumble into his neck, causing him to gently pull you back so that he can hear you: “What was that, sweetheart?”

You try to concentrate on the sensation of his calm heartbeat against your chest before finally saying, "My parents promised me the same thing."

He pulls away, puzzled, and you notice him looking at you in the corner of your eye, so you burrow your face into his chest and say, "They were both military. They died when I was 14," you finish, taking a deep breath. “They were deployed together when it happened… They said that it was an accident, that my mom got stuck on a timed land mine, and my dad wouldn’t leave her no matter what.”

"Oh, love." You feel his body tense before relaxing.

He gently grips the back of your neck and pulls you back so that you're looking into his eyes; the softness in them is almost enough to send you running as far as possible so that you never have to feel the type of pain that you did the day that you found out your parents died.

“Love, I'm not going anywhere,” you go to speak but he shushes you, “You are my world, the person I’m fighting for.”

He brings his hand under your chin so that he is gripping it gently and says, “You are the reason I’m still alive. The reason why I feel like life is still worth living and fighting for.”

He tips his head down so that his lips are grazing yours, “I’ll always come home, love.”

You push forward so that your lips are fully pressing against his, then he pulls back, “Why don’t we go take a bath, get you feeling better?”

~~~~

The next morning you wake frantically looking around, hoping that he didn’t leave without saying goodbye, when he walks in carrying a tray of food, “John? I thought you had to leave this morning.”

He smiles gently, his eyes lighting up, “Called Kate, they don’t actually need me for another week, and I figured my love needs me a little bit more than my job at the moment.” He sets the tray down on the bed, and you jump into his arms with a happy squeal, “I love you, John.”

"I love you too, sweetheart," he says as he gently kisses you.

~

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley

-So we all know Simon is amazing at reading people, but I don’t think he would know that you were a military kid. He could see all the signs that you may have had a difficult childhood, but he personally knows what it’s like to have a childhood you don’t want to talk about, so he never has and never will question you about your past. -Pasts are a hard topic for Simon in the first place, so I could honestly see him being a bit grateful that you didn’t share the bad parts of your childhood, meaning that he also didn’t have to share his. It was almost a silent agreement between you both to not talk about the negative parts of things unless one of you came to the other wanting to talk about it.

~~~~

Back to him being great at reading people: He could tell that over the past few days, your body language had been changing, becoming more standoffish. Not being as open to cuddling and kisses, not even wanting him to walk up behind you and wrap his arms around you, which you usually loved.

He figured that maybe you were just having a few rough days, which was normal for anyone; hell, he knew he had them quite often, and you were always there for him no matter how bad they got, so he wanted to do the same for you.

Today had been the worst day of all, though. You were almost refusing to talk to him completely unless it was one-word answers, which he was able to roll with pretty easily. You would move rooms almost every time he would come in, not even saying anything, just picking up your things and going.

This made him decide on leaving you alone for the most part, other than when he would bring you a fresh cup of tea or was just checking in on you. So he decided on cleaning up the house a little bit, he was going to be deploying again in a week and he wanted to help however he could, knowing that it was a rough transition from having him around to it being an empty house again.

He had just finished cleaning the dishes when he looked at the time and decided on ordering out for dinner, which would hopefully raise your mood a bit and it would also be an easy enough mess to clean up. He found you in the living room watching a movie on Netflix with a blanket wrapped tightly around you and stood in the doorway for a moment just admiring you when you paused it.

When you snap at him, "What do you want, Simon?" Your eyes aren't even on him but on your phone, which is on your lap.

He feels his eye twitch but he keeps himself calm and makes sure that it shows in his tone that your attitude is leaving him unaffected, “I was just goin’ to ask what you wanted for takeout, love.”

You huff and try to pull yourself up from the couch while also trying to unwrap the blanket from around you, almost falling, but Simon rushes forward and straightens you up, but you quickly pull away.

You look at him with fury in your eyes, “Can't you just leave me the hell alone?” Your voice is rising slightly, and your face is flushed with rage. “It’s what you constantly do anyway!”

You can see Simon's eyes widen, but you don't care; the words are just spilling out of your mouth before you can stop them, "You're never actually here when I need you, but when you are, you can't take the fucking hint of when I just want you to leave me alone!"

"Sometimes Simon," you pause, feeling the tears flood into your vision, making the floor blurry, "I wonder why I even stay when you are just going to end up hurting me exactly like he did," you whisper, staring hard at the ground, your chest puffing in and out quickly, trying to pull in air after your large outburst.

The words come out in a whisper, the room becoming so silent that you can almost hear the gears in his head turning, wondering who the hell you were talking about.

You hear him take a step forward on the wood flooring, his voice incredibly soft, “Dove.”

You look up through the tears and see his hands reaching out for you, and for the first time in all the time you two have been together, Simon Riley almost looks scared—not scared of you but as if his world was coming apart.

When his hand gently touches your arm, it pulls you out of your stupor, making you pull away, frantically shaking your head, “Don’t touch me.”

The words come out shaky and broken, but they make him freeze nonetheless, and you can see in his eyes that he’s trying to pull himself together, trying to figure out what he's supposed to do in a situation like this.

He takes a small step back, his gaze fixed on yours, and he holds his hands out in front of him, as if to demonstrate that he is not a threat. "Okay, I won't touch you." He comes to a halt, seeing the fear in your eyes, the look of a frightened animal ready to flee at any moment. "It's okay, love, everything's fine-"

He doesn't even finish his sentence before you're flying down the hallway, grabbing your bag from the hooks by the front door and bolting out the door, slamming it loudly behind you, leaving him standing halfway down the hallway, his mouth slack-jawed, unsure of what the hell just happened.

~~~

After nearly ten minutes of fast walking, you finally slowed down and stopped in the nearest store to clean your face of tear marks and, hopefully, make yourself look presentable. You sent a quick text to Simon, letting him know that you were safe and that you didn't know when you'd be back. You left your phone on long enough to see him read the message and the text bubble pop up before you shut the phone completely off and tucked it into the bottom of your bag.

You spent the next two hours wandering aimlessly, wondering if you'd just ruined your relationship with the only man you'll ever love, when you came across the small Italian restaurant where Simon had taken you on your first date. You remember the way you tried to pay for your half of the dinner, but he quickly slipped his card to the waitress before you could even argue, saying something about how if you decided not to go on a second date with him, you deserved to at least get a free meal from it, and you teased him by asking him if there was a reason you shouldn't want to go on another date with him.

The memories make your stomach queasy, making you want to kick yourself in the back for being so stupid, but you walk in and order your and Simon's favorite dishes and try to keep the food as warm as possible on your walk back to your shared home. One side of you hopes you’ll find him there, not an empty house, and the other side wants to avoid this conversation for as long as possible.

You walk up the steps, and most of the house seems to be dark except for the living room, where a single light is on. You unlock the door and try as quietly as possible to slip your shoes off while also trying not to drop the food.

You make your way towards the living room to find Simon sitting on the couch, his elbows on his knees, and his face buried in his hands. You look over to the coffee table and see bags with your favorite restaurant's logo tied off, trying to keep the heat in the bags, making your heart ache with the fact that he still thought of you after you treated him like complete trash.

He was the first man ever to treat you with so much love. Even while he was deployed, he was making efforts to show you that he cared, like scheduling a delivery of your favorite flowers to show up on your day off with a little note, paying for over a month's worth of your order at your favorite coffee shop, and bringing back little trinkets from the places he was deployed too.

You knew him being deployed wasn’t his fault; it was part of his job. You knew he wasn't your dad and that it wasn't Simon’s fault that the man who was supposed to love you treated you as if you weren't even his child but rather just another one of his soldiers.

It wasn’t his fault that your dad wouldn't be home for months on end; it wasn’t his fault that the last time you ever saw your dad, you told him you hated him for never being home; it wasn't his fault that the day your dad was supposed to come home from a four-month deployment, instead of hearing him come home, there were four hard knocks on the door; it wasn't his fault that two soldiers were standing at the door; it wasn’t his fault that they were holding a folded-up flag with your dad’s military dog tags on them.

It. Wasn’t. His. Fault.

Yet you treated him as if it were. You didn't know which was worse, the fact that he didn't already know about what happened to your dad or the fact that you wished he did so that he could have a reason to hate you for lashing out.

You step into the room, setting the food you got by the food he ordered. “Simon?”

He doesn’t move for a second, then he looks up at you, and you feel your heart shatter for the umpteenth time tonight. “Oh, Simon,” you whisper, moving so that you’re standing in front of him and drop down onto your knees, “I am so fucking sorry. I don't even have the words to tell you how sorry I am. I shouldn’t have lashed out at you… I should’ve just talked to you instead of letting it build up.”

You move your hands up to gently cradle his face in both your hands and connect your eyes with his molten ones, which usually provided you with comfort. Now, though, all you can see is the look he gave you after you yelled at him, “I— I never should have let my feelings bottle up about me being upset about you having to be gone. I know it's not your fault. I knew what I was getting myself into when we made things official all those years ago. I knew what your job would bring before then; I made the choice to be with you. I'll never regret that.’’

You move your eyes across his face, trying to gauge his emotions, but you get nothing.

“Si, baby?” you whisper.

His eyes move away from you. “Who were you talking about when you said I'm just going to hurt you like he did?’’

You look away, your eyes settling on a loose string on his pants. “I was talking about my dad.” You take a deep breath before continuing, knowing that you have to tell him, “H– He was military like you.”

His hand reaches out to gently lift your chin, bringing your gaze to his. “He died,” you continue, “He died and the last time I ever saw him, I told him I hated him because he was always gone. He…I let him go that day without saying goodbye or telling him I loved him, and the next time I saw him, his body was in a casket."

"Love," he says with a gentle frown.

"No, Simon," you say, shaking your head. Just because I’m scared—no, fucking terrified—of that happening again with you doesn't give me the right to treat you that way. I am so sorry.”

He leans back in the couch and pulls you up into his lap; once you're comfortable, he brings his hands up so that one is cupping your cheek and the other trails down your arm to hold your hand. "Dove, I know what it's like to lose family. I know what it can do to you. I understand that pain more than you know. Pain like that is unlike anything else.”

Tears well up in your eyes, and you blink them away quickly before they fall. "You've lost family, too?"

He nods gently, and you can see deep emotions that seemed to have been buried for a long time beginning to surface. “My mum, my younger brother Tommy, and his wife Beth.” He closes his eyes, and when he opens them, they are filled with unshed tears. “My nephew Joseph.”

You can feel the back of your throat starting to burn from keeping your tears in, but you push your forehead against his anyway. “Simon.”

He looks into your eyes before whispering, “I wish I could tell you it would stop hurting eventually, but I can’t. I’m not going to lie to you and say I’ll always make it back home to you; that's not something I can guarantee, but one thing I can promise is that I will always try my damn hardest to make it back. I will always fight with everything in my soul to make it back to you.”

Tears are softly running down your face at this point, falling to land on Simon’s hoodie. “I love you so much, sweets. I never want to lose you.”

You let out a choked cry before you kissed him gingerly, and you could taste the saltiness of your tears mixed in with all the flavors that reminded you of Simon. Of home.

“I love you so much too, Si.”

He leans in to kiss you again with a light press of his lips to yours before he pulls away and looks at the forgotten food on the coffee table and lets out a light chuckle, “I see we both had the same idea.”

You let out a shaky laugh and nod your head before snuggling your head into the warm crook of his neck. He runs a large hand up and down your back, slowly stopping at the bottom to rub gentle circles into a spot that usually bothers you. "Well, why don’t we eat, and maybe in the morning we can talk a little bit more.”

Yawning into his neck, you pull back and ask, “Can we finish the movie I was watching earlier? It was just getting to the good part before I stopped it.”

He nods, and you excitedly get out of his lap to get your blanket and the TV remote before he pulls the coffee table closer to the couch so that he can start opening the containers. Once you start the movie, you look over to Simon to find him already watching you with a soft look, and all you can think is how thankful you are to have found a man who loves you through all your faults and you through his.

You were grateful for ever getting the chance to be loved by Simon Riley, a man who truly believed that he couldn’t love and that he wasn’t worth loving. You knew that it would probably take your whole lives to heal from the things you've both been through, but as long as you were together, that was all that mattered.

Hi my lovelies, I hope you enjoyed this hc for Price and Simon! Feedback is appreciated but not necessary. As always I hope you have a great day/night. <3

Requests are open so feel free to send in some! I cannot promise when or if I will write them, but I do prefer requests that are slightly more specific as I find them easier to write but it's not required. Thanks for reading my darlings! ♡

[melodygatesauthor]

The Moon Boys and Periods

Moon Boys X f!Reader

For my dear friend @welcometostayingawake, and any other friends that may be dealing with this lovely problem that plagues us all ❤️

Summary: Headcanons of the first period the Moon Boys experience with their SO.

Tags/Warnings: SFW, period fluff, fluff, that’s pretty much it, just a comfort fic, I did NOT edit this

Word Count: 1.2k

Steven

You woke up with the pain in your abdomen that could only mean one thing, you started your period.

Steven would be all smiles when he opens his eyes, as he usually is when waking up next to you in the morning.

When he sees that something isn’t quite right with you, while you’re making small whimpers and hunched in pain, he immediately goes into stuttering Steven panic mode.

“Are you alright, love? What’s wrong?” He’d say with his eyebrows knitted together tightly.

You would start by telling him not to touch you, feeling not only over-stimulated but a little embarrassed that you started your period for the first time in front of him. You’d thought you had one more day.

“Oh…” Steven would say as he realized what was happening.

He’d never been with someone while they were on their period and didn’t know the proper protocol. Did he buy you chocolates? Flowers? Make you tea? Cuddle you all day with your favorite films on the telly?

All of it, Steven is doing all of it.

“No Steven.” You’d start with. “I’m just going to go home and take some Tylenol. I don’t even have any hygiene products to take care of the problem.”

Steven’s absolutely not having it. His rare demanding side comes out, rendering you completely speechless.

“Now that’s quite enough of that, Darling. Don’t be ridiculous. I’ve got a heating pad, yeah? I’m going to put that on you and run you a hot bath. While you’re in the tub I’ll run to the store and get what you need and then we’ll get you fixed right up.”

You simply can’t protest with that can you? So you just nod with a soft, “ok” while he sets you up with a heating pad.

In short order, you’re being made to get in the tub, while Steven takes your clothes with the intention to get them washed.

When Steven returns, he has so much stuff. He has flowers that he ever so sweetly places in a vase next to the bedside to brighten your day, he has chocolates, he has crisps in case you want something salty, he has tea, and he even brought you a change of clothes from your apartment. He even got both pads and tampons because he wasn’t sure which you preferred.

“When you’re done in the tub, let me know and I’ll make you a hot cup of tea, yeah?”

“Yeah.” You’d say with the biggest smile.

Marc

Similarly to when you were with Steven, it starts with that sharp nagging in your stomach.

Marc immediately thinks it must be something very seriously wrong with you to be whimpering the way you are.

“Baby, baby are you ok? Do you need me to take you to the hospital?” He would ask first and foremost, a harsh panic in his tone.

“Um, no, I’m fine, I just. I just need to go home and get some Tylenol and stay there.” You’d say.

Unlike Steven, Marc takes your word for it and will assume that you know what you need better than he does. However, when you insist on taking public transit, rather than letting him drive you, his more protective side comes out.

“No, I’m driving you. Look at you, you can hardly stand.” He’d say.

He would be right, you were holding on to the wall in the apartment holding your abdomen tenderly.

“I don’t want to bleed in your car.” You would protest.

“It’s gonna take a lot more than a little blood to bother me baby, but if it would make you feel better we can put down a towel.”

Marc would then get you to your apartment and help you inside. When you say, “I’m fine, you can leave now.” He’d respond with, “not a chance, where do you keep your cups?”

You’d point him in the right direction to find the things required to fill you with water and Tylenol. While he was getting everything together, including setting up your pillows and blankets comfortably, you’re taking care of yourself in the bathroom.

Marc doesn’t leave all day, even when you tell him he doesn’t have to stay. He loves you, and wants to make sure you’re comfy and have what you need.

At the end of the day, you know he will go anywhere if you need him to, and would do so happily.

Jake

Pain once more, but this time you’re waking up next to Jake Lockley.

Jake hasn’t found something yet that his kisses couldn’t fix for you, and so he wastes no time pressing his lips to yours softly.

While you appreciate the gesture, and you do love kissing Jake, it doesn’t change the fact that you are uncomfortable, and he’s not helping.

“Tell me what you need cariño.” He would insist, wondering if he’s out of his league. This feels like a Steven problem, he would think, but Steven and Marc are out at the moment, leaving him to take care of you.

“I just need to get back to my apartment and get some Tylenol. I’m just going to stay there I think.” You’d say, groaning as you sit up.

Just like Marc, he’s insisting on driving you, and just like with Marc, he doesn’t give two shits about a little blood. He’s seen plenty of it to last a few lifetimes.

The difference is that Jake is getting you there in half the time, and he’s making sure no one bothers you on your way into the building.

“I’m all set Jake, really, you can go home now.” You would say once you were inside.

He would tip up your chin with his gloved finger and kiss you softly. “You’re not getting rid of me today hermosa. Go run yourself a nice hot bath. I’ll be back in a little while.”

While you were in the bath, Jake would go to the store and scour each aisle with a furrowed brow. The man that was normally so in control, felt powerless for the first time. He didn’t know what to do.

However, he would have no qualms about asking someone what women need on their period.

One of nearly everything. Jake is coming home with one of almost everything from the drugstore that the clerk suggested, or so it would seem. Tampons and pads in every size and type. Do you like chocolate? Doesn’t matter, you can start your own factory now. Did you want to open a pharmacy? Because you have enough ibuprofen to supply a small army. Any period you have from now until the end of your days is accounted for.

Jake would then cuddle you for hours while you fall asleep to the sound of his beating heart with your head on his warm chest.