#and maybe it would have helped me but I think about that from time to time and I'm just like. you don't know me at all and you were willing

[runa-falls]

what a mess~

pairing: miguel o'hara x reader cw: smut, established relationship, superhuman stamina, overstimulation, cum EVERYWHERE, 'use a condom, it's too messy X(', 'bitch stfu i'll show you messy'..., so many sheets, reader is a pushover (bc I WOULD BE TOO) wc: 1k + a/n: i um... just take this and I'll go to a corner of a room and think ab what I've done.

---

Having a superhero boyfriend is great – he gets you discounts at your favorite restaurant, he easily carries you home after a long night out at the bar, he saves you from getting kidnapped by his arch-nemesis for the fourth time this month (though isn’t that his fault in the first place?....) – but there are aspects of the relationship that you didn’t consider before. 

Apparently, with great power comes great… stamina. 

To put it plainly, Miguel’s (sex) drive is unheard of. You better clear out your schedule for the whole day because he can go for hours. And most nights, you can barely sit up after he fucks you.

You like that – or you did when you could afford to be sore every other day. You like how enthusiastic he is – how much he wants you. It makes you feel desired and beautiful. But it’s not just the intense workout you risk every time you steal a kiss that turns into more – it’s the number of times he can…finish. 

Every time you think he’s finished, he’s still hard and thrusting into you, overstimulating you until black stars start to fill your vision. 

It’s a mess in the end. 

You lay on top of him, filled to the brim, dripping all over his lower stomach and onto the sheets under you, breathing so hard you’re sure you’d rupture a lung. You feel like you’re barely conscious on the bed as your heart beats harshly against your chest from how hard you came. Hair sticks graciously against your forehead as your eyes struggle to stay open to see Miguel, who gently pulls out and watches his mess spill out of you. 

He whispers sweetly of how well you took him, how pretty you look all fucked out, how much he loves that he can turn you into a blabbering – mindless whore. Being the possessive man he is, he attempts to shove it back in, using two of his thick fingers to gather and push his essence back into you, hoping that, against all odds, it’ll take, despite the fact you take your birth control religiously. 

Of course, when he sees how your thighs shake and squeeze around his hand from the overstimulation of him fucking his fingers into you after you just came, he immediately gets hard again. 

He gazes down at you with apologetic red eyes as he bites his lip under a sharp fang, “I can’t help it when I see how wrecked your pussy is for me…”

It’s nice – it’s hot – but you end up having to change the sheets 5 times a week. He’s insatiable… well ok, you’re just as thirsty as your boyfriend, but the amount of maintenance you need for each session is ridiculous. You basically gave up washing your sheets after every fuck, and instead ordered several identical sets of bedding to make the process easier. 

Many sheets have been destroyed beyond recognition. Okay, maybe you’re being a bit overdramatic, but the amount of cum-stained sheets in your linen closet is insane. How are you supposed to hide this if you were to have guests over?!

After staring at the layers of folded-up and stained sheets that you’ve accumulated over the past few months, you decided you were going to do something about it. 

You can still have fun without the mess.

…right?

—

Miguel has you on your back at the end of the bed with your legs resting on the crook of his arms. You have on a cute little nightgown – white to symbolize purity (though what you were about to do was far from pure) – with nothing underneath. It was one you bought just to get a reaction out of him – and now you got it. 

He holds you open for him, regarding you like he would a special gift – though there’s nothing to really celebrate (unless you count his raging erection). He breathes harshly against your neck as he paints your skin with kisses and nips. You’re nearly folded in half with how closely he’s pushed against you, but you can barely recognize the mere tinge of soreness in your legs with how fluidly pleasure seems to travel from his lips down to the apex of your thighs. 

Miguel O’Hara, the strong, independent Spider-Man, is truly a mess in front of you. His once neatly ironed tie now hangs loosely around his neck, his crisp white shirt unbuttoned halfway down, and his hair a tangle of unruly curls. His fingers, now caressing your body, are already dripping in your slick from when he forced a couple of orgasms out of you right when he got home. 

You find a sense of satisfaction in the disheveled state of his appearance, relishing how his once meticulously groomed demeanor has been disrupted – how his eyes transition from their usual chocolatey brown to a striking blood red, how his lips swell sweetly with lust. 

Miguel groans deeply as he grinds his clothed hardness against your wet center, “Mm…I want you so bad.” He unbuttons and unzips his pants, sighing as he releases himself from the tight fabric. No underwear? 

“Wait, Mig." he pauses his movements, waiting patiently – prepared to do whatever you want. “Get a condom.” …Except maybe…that. 

“Condom?” He could barely hold back his sneer, but you could faintly hear the growl vibrate from his chest. 

“Mhm, we’ve been too messy lately. We can’t just keep buying new sheets every week!”

“...We could…”

“Miguel!”

“I don’t see what the problem is… this is just how it is.”

“But it’s too messy.”

“I thought my baby likes to be filled up…”

“...I-I mean, I do sometimes, but –”

“Don’t you like it when I get you all messy?” He leans in close, distracting you from denying him. “Have you dripping with me for days?” He presses closer, and you can feel his hard cock slip against your wetness, dragging against your sensitive clit. 

“Miguel.” You whine.

It’s so hard to deny this man.

“How about we just try to be more careful, hm?” He presses against you gently, nearly entering you, but not quite. It feels so good, the tip of him barely stretching past your entrance. 

“Okay…j-just this once though…” You surrender with a whisper.

[rafecameroninterlude]

rafe + breeding kink

warnings: singledad!rafe, older!rafe (maybe like late twenties-early thirties), nanny!reader, rafe’s son calls you mommy, fluff, unprotected sex, dirty talk, mentions of pregnancy and having kids, creampie

a/n: breeding kink was so heavily requested omg, i love everyone who left a req for this <3 i definitely went a little overboard lol

“well, that worked like a charm.” rafe smiled down at you and his son who was currently cuddled into your side. “i don’t want to move away from him.” you pouted, running your fingers through the little boy’s hair. you had been doing this weird thing to rafe’s heart everytime he saw you caring for his boy, and he didn’t know what to make of it.

despite having been rafe’s nanny for nearly three years now, you still found yourself getting flustered every time you caught him staring at you. whether it was you folding laundry, or bending over to dust the entertainment center, all those little things were starting to add up into something both of you wouldn’t be able to come back from.

“do you think we could talk?” rafe helped you up from his son’s race car bed, a worried expression overtaking his features. “yeah, of course, is everything alright?” you didn’t miss the way he kept your hand in his, leading both of you downstairs after closing the door to little ray’s room. “yes, i actually wanted to talk about my salary-” rafe was quick to cut in.

“throw me a number and you got it.” he dropped your hand, ushering you to take a seat next to him. you laughed softly, shaking your head. “no, i don’t want more pay; quite the opposite, really.” rafe’s eyebrows knitted together in confusion. “you’re not quitting are you?” he heard his heart beating in his ears at your lack of response.

“no, god no!” you placed a hand on his arm, “i’ve been looking for another job because i don’t want to be paid for taking care of ray anymore..” you met his gaze, running your nails against his skin. “why?” rafe couldn’t wrap his head around your words, his eyes darting across your face.

“you know, i’ve been taking care of ray since he was two, and he’s going to be five next week.. i’ve grown so close to him.” you smiled. “caring for him, cooking for him, playing with him, loving him, it isn’t a job for me.” you didn’t realize you were crying until rafe wiped your cheek ever so gently. “you love him?” rafe’s voice was barely above a whisper, his own tears threatening to spill from his eyes.

“i do, rafe. i love him so much.” you sniffled. “he called me mom the other day and i felt terrible ‘cause i bursted into tears on the spot, and he thought he made me sad but i was just overjoyed.” you laughed, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. “i want you to know that i’m not trying to take the place of his mother, i would never do that..”

rafe knew ray called you mom. it wasn’t too long ago that ray said, ‘mommy made my favorite pancakes!’ when rafe asked him about his day and made his heart damn near stop in his chest when he heard the word fall from his son’s lips. “you’re the closest thing he has to a mother. i don’t even know how to thank you for that.” he leaned in, embracing you tightly.

you two stayed like this for a couple moments before you pulled away, adjusting the collar of his shirt. “i called mrs. anderson to set up a playdate with ray and her son, and do you want to know what she said?” you stifled a laugh as rafe relaxed into the couch. “what?” he admired the way you lit up while talking about ray.

“she said that ray was a little more on the wild side and that it would be in her son’s best interest if they didn’t hang out anymore.” you watched as rafe shrugged. “that little nerd was too boring, anyways.” you gasped, slapping his chest playfully. “rafe!” you whispered, both of you covering your mouths to keep from being too loud.

he quieted down, sighing to himself before looking up at the ceiling, you following suit. “i do worry about that sometimes. i feel like ray needs more of a permanent friend, like a sibling..” he trailed off, glancing at you only to see you were looking at him already. “a sibling?” you raised your eyebrows. “how would you go about that?” you cleared your throat, trying to ignore the smidge of jealousy that settled in the pit of your stomach.

“want me to explain to you how babies are made?” rafe scooted closer, his arm draping over your shoulders. “no need, i’m well aware.” you waved him off. “yeah?” he guided you on top of his lap, both of you looking at each other with dark swirling in your eyes. “tell me, y/n, ‘you ever think about having little ones?” his large hands came up to rub against your thighs.

rafe felt as if he was approaching that line he’s been wanting to cross since the first time he interviewed you all those years ago. “yes.” you let out a shaky breath when you felt rafe’s fingertips move under your blouse. “you would make such a good mother, you’d want that wouldn’t you?” you cupped his face as his lips ghosted over your own.

you moaned once he finally kissed you, both of your clothes coming off before you could have enough time to think. “gonna fill you up and make you have my babies, yeah?” he laid you down on the soft cushions, running the head of his cock between your wet folds. “yes, please.” you mewled, eyes shining with lust as he took your chin between his thumb.

“fuck, you’re so beautiful.” he covered your mouth, muffling the yelp that left your lips when he entered you slowly, your silky walls welcoming him inch by inch. his strokes were slow and full of intention, his arms caging you in while you two shared the kind of kisses that made your head spin. “been wanting you like this for so long.” he cursed under his breath.

you whimpered, arms wrapping around his neck as you trailed kisses across his jaw. the intimacy of having his body flush against yours wasn’t like anything you’ve ever experienced, your soft cries driving him on the brink of fucking you senseless. “oh, my god,” you clawed at his skin, making him hiss as he tugged at the roots of your hair to make you look up.

“i can see it already; all three of us going to the beach and rubbing on your round belly, all pretty and pregnant.” rafe picked up his pace, your hips now moving with his to meet his thrusts. “i want that so bad!” you nearly screamed when he started toying with your clit, both of you holding onto one another like your life depended on it.

“jesus, fuck-” his movements came to a halt before he placed your legs on his shoulders, leaning down until your thighs met the cushions underneath you. snaking an arm around your lower back, you gasped when he started lifting you up, fucking you onto his cock so he could reach deeper than before. “r-rafe!” your mouth fell open, eyes blinking slowly.

with one hand still rubbing your clit, and the head of his length continuously hitting your sweet spot, you found yourself approaching the edge of euphoria. rafe can tell by the way you were clenching around him that you were going to cum soon. “hold out a little longer for me, baby. ‘want you to cum when i fill you up.” he pressed a kiss to your temple, hips stuttering once the band in his stomach snapped.

burying his head in the curve of you neck, he moaned against your skin as he stilled, the head of his cock nudging your cervix. you felt the moment he finished, the hot ropes of his cum filling you to the hilt as your thighs started trembling. rafe clamped a hand over your mouth, whispering a ‘let me feel you cum around me.’ before you obliged, your orgasm hitting you in long waves of ecstasy.

you laid helplessly, trying your hardest not to scream at the intense feeling in your tummy, your eyes rolling back as he rubbed a soothing hand on your side. rafe helped you come down from your climax, the aftershocks of your orgasm making your body jolt with every stroke of his fingers against your skin. he stayed nestled inside of you, both of you embracing each other as your breathing slowed, sleep weighing heavy on your eyelids.

“you did so good for me, are you feeling okay?” you blinked up at him, a smile making its way to his lips when he saw the fucked out expression on your face. “mhmm, ‘don’t think i could get up though.” you hissed once he pulled out, watching as he slipped on his pants. “let’s get in the shower, you’re staying here.” he helped you up, putting his large button down over your shoulders.

rafe carried you upstairs, tiptoeing past ray’s room before both of you got in the shower, round two well underway. it wasn’t until you were laying rafe’s bed, adorned in one of his t-shirts that you two heard little ray’s voice outside the door. “daddy? can i come in?” rafe rubbed a reassuring hand on your arm, shouting a ‘yes, son!’ before ray strided inside, running up to you excitedly.

“can i sleep in here, pleaseee,” you embraced him, telling him yes before rafe could get the chance to tell him otherwise. “are you sleeping over?” the little boy peered up at you, wasting no time in settling under the comforter of rafe’s bed. you giggled, flashing rafe a look. “yes, i am.” ray looked over at his father, studying him for a minute.

you watched them have a silent conversation with their eyes, the scene making your heart melt. “goodnight, daddy,” he patted rafe’s chest, “..goodnight, mommy.” he pecked your cheek, the waterworks threatening to spill over at any moment. rafe reached over, taking your hand in his before he pressed a kiss to your knuckles. “goodnight.”

[aperrywilliams]

That Wasn't Fake (Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader)

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Author Masterlist

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Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader.

Request: Can you write a Spencer fic where the reader is kind of quiet and shy when she begins working at the BAU, and Spencer has a crush on her, and then they have a case, and she has to like to seduce the unsub lowkey and everyone kind of like...how is she going to do this shes not very outgoing but when she does shes really good at it, and everyone is surprised and impressed.

Summary:  You're shy and reserved. Spencer has a crush on you, and unbeknown to him, you have a crush on him. Maybe the cat can get out of the bag when you have to step aside of your comfort zone to catch an elusive unsub.

Word Count: 4.2k (no self control here)

Warnings: Words like 'fuck' and 'bitch'. A rant about self-doubt. Typical CM stuff: unsubs, killings, etc.

A/N: Another request I loved! It should have been a little shorter, but I'm having a hard time getting to the point these days. Please keep sending requests!

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Spencer knows it is inappropriate, but he can't help it. You're coworkers, and that itself sets a boundary, so he shouldn't be thinking of trespassing.

But the crush he has on you seems to grow every day.

He doesn't know if it is your beautiful smile, the kindness you show in everything you do, or the enthusiasm you put into every task you are committed to. Since the moment he saw you pass the bullpen glass doors, Spencer knew he was damned.

From that moment, Spencer knew he wanted to know you and learn everything about you. About what you liked, what you hated, and what your fears and dreams were. Everything.

But not much after that revelation in his mind, he understood it wasn't going to be easy to get to you.

You were extremely shy and reserved.

In fact, your first interaction - when Emily introduced you both - consisted of a wave of your hand and a timid 'nice to meet you.'

He thought as time went by, you would loosen and become less bashful and quiet. And in part, he was right. As the months passed, you began to feel more comfortable within the team. You laughed at Luke's jokes, you commented on Rossi's stories, and you could even - when the stars aligned - crack a joke yourself to Tara or Matt.

But beyond that, no one knew much about your life outside of the BAU, unlike JJ, who always talks about her kids and her husband, or Matt, who talks about his kids, too. Or Tara, who recounts her failed dates. Or the same Luke who always shows photos of Roxy.

You, on the other hand, seemed to be an enigma. But Spencer Reid loved decoding enigmas.

At first, he turned his interest in you out of mere scientific curiosity. However, internally, he knew it wasn't just that.

It started with small random questions about the times you worked together: Is this coffee okay? What was the last book you read? Do you think we should buy some donuts for the team?

If you were honest, it picked your interest why, from all people, Dr. Spencer Reid was so adamant in making conversation with you.

From what you knew and from what the team said, Spencer was not a person very interested in things other than work or books. But suddenly, out of nowhere, he asked you what the last movie you saw was or something like that.

You always answered his questions; however, you would have liked to be much more talkative and engage in longer conversations, but your nature stopped you.

'What if I don't have anything more interesting for him to say?'

'Does he just talk to me because he feels sorry for me?'

And that was the big issue: you have never had problems with the way you live your life. You're pretty satisfied with what you do in your job and out of it, too. But you have always thought you are too 'simple' to entertain people's interest.

And to be honest, being surrounded by people with so much experience and big things happening in their lives still intimidates you a bit. So, you usually refrain from talking too much about yourself or anything for that matter.

But with Spencer, things are a bit different. He's always checking on you but respects your boundaries. He has learned that sometimes you just don't want to talk, and he doesn't push.

Despite his interest beyond the professional, Spencer would never do anything to make you uncomfortable. Being able to share time with you will have to be enough for him.

In a way, he has become your protector. He is your backup during interrogations or in situations where you can feel awkward, like the times when some police officers tried to flirt with you and got too close. Sure, you know how to turn them down, but sometimes guys don't get the memo and keep pushing. You're too shy to yell or be aggressive about it.

The team also understands the way you are, and they know it does not make you any less professional. However, they have always been careful not to take you too much out of your comfort zone.

---------------

A whole two weeks and five murders later, the team is stuck trying to catch an unsub who has preferences for killing women after club nights. The profile says he is not interested in just any woman but in those between 25-30 years old who like to flirt with several men in the clubs. But it is not just any type of flirting; it is the type that is initiated and dominated by them. In short, he likes to kill women who are the opposite of submissive. He sees them as predators on a hunting ground.

Another finding in victimology is that the women he kills, in addition to having a specific age range, have very similar physical characteristics. And similar to you.

All his victims have your build, eye color, hair color, and height. It gets to be creepy to a certain point. And it's something difficult to ignore.

Bouncing information and possible strategies, the team agrees they need to be proactive to get him to show up before another killing happens.

"Okay, what options do we have?" Emily asks.

"The witnesses haven't gotten us anywhere," Luke complains.

"Although we've narrowed down his hunting grounds," Rossi shrugs.

"Yeah, we know the clubs where he likes to hunt," JJ backs Rossi.

"But although the profile, we have yet to learn about what to look for there. I mean, we know what the unsub wants, but not how he looks like." This time, it's Tara who speaks.

You've rarely seen Emily bite her tongue when she wants to say something, but it's clear that she has something on her mind, and she doesn't know how to put it, or maybe the problem is something else. You look at her out of the corner of your eye, and she looks back at you; what do those eyes say? They look like they're even apologetic.

It's a fraction of the time before she comes back to behave like herself.

"We need to lurk him. It's the only way," she says. And everyone's eyes - yours included - are on her immediately.

"Lurk him?" Matt repeats.

"Yes. And all we know who should be the one going undercover to do that," Emily adds, looking at you this time.

That's it—the elephant in the room.

Of course, you're the ideal candidate. Well, you're perfect in the physical aspect because if we talk about the victim's personality and yours...

There's silence in the room, and you can feel like the team's eyes are all on you.

Do they expect you to say no? To refuse? From your perspective, it's not a question; it's more like the option you all have to catch the guy.

"It's true (Y/N) would be the closest to the unsub type, but there are a lot of things to take into account," Matt says. And you know perfectly well what's behind his words, even if he doesn't say it directly.

And that's okay; it's perfectly plausible they have their doubts. It is not enough to look like the victims for the operation to work.

But if there is one thing you are sure of, it's that you will always give your all to your job, even if that means becoming a completely different person.

"I can do it," you mumbled so quietly that if the AC weren't in the lower setting, people wouldn't have heard you.

"But (Y/N), you know about this guy. It's dangerous," Matt points, a frown on his face.

"Not to mention he likes rough interactions," Luke adds.

"You don't have to do it if you feel uncomfortable." This time, it is JJ who voices her opinion. And you know, that's the closest reason to the team's main concern.

And the fact you can blow up the entire plan.

Spencer stays in silence. Internally he's freaking out thinking of you having to lurk on the unsub, but he knows you are a professional. And he feels a kind of deja vu.

When he was younger, the team would have said the same about him doing something like that. Spencer knows what it's like when people baby you, making you feel insecure. Sure, he hasn't had to worry about that anymore. Spencer is almost forty, and no one would dare to tell him he can't do something. Not after all the things he has been through.

"JJ is right, Bella. You don't have to do it. We can think of another way," Rossi backs JJ.

That's when Spencer notices the slight frown on your face. It's invisible to everyone but him. He knows it's there.

You stay collected, even when everyone on the team has something to say about how bad the idea of you going undercover to lurk the unsub is.

Emily is who stops everyone's rant.

"Guys, hey. If (Y/N) is telling us she can do it, we're going to do it. Of course, we'll be there to back up her and catch this unsub."

And this is how the discussion is settled.

Emily sends everyone out with a task to prepare for the night. Today is Friday, and the unsub will surely be stalking some new victim. The chances are high.

When it's just you and Spencer in the room, he still looks at you in silence.

"Do you also think I'll not be able to pull off this mission and I'm going to ruin everything?"

You downcast your gaze, exhaling deeply.

"No. I don't think that," Spencer clarifies, and you raise your gaze to meet his eyes. "You are more than capable, (Y/N). The team is worried because you'll be out of your comfort zone in a dangerous situation."

"The team? Not you?" You narrow your eyes to him.

You try not to sound accusatory, but if you're as scared as everyone, you also are fed up with the other's doubts.

Spencer closes the distance between you both but doesn't invade your personal space.

"Of course, I'm worried too! I don't want anything bad to happen to you. But I trust you and your judgment."

Your heart does flip-flops, and you're not sure if it's because Spencer is worried or because, despite that, he trusts you—or both.

"You do?" You ask, not so convinced.

Spencer nods and smiles at you.

"And we'll be there when you catch the guy."

If that is the reassurance you need, you don't mention it. Instead, you grin at Spencer as a promise you'll do your job just how you are supposed to.

---------------

You insist on getting ready in your hotel room. The only assistant you ask for is Emily. She was the one who trusted you first in this, so you'll take every piece of advice she can give you before this night starts.

Everyone has a role in the plan.

Rossi will be the chauffeur who will drive you to the club.

Luke and Spencer would be in the club, mingling with the patrons. JJ, Matt, and Emily would be in the van monitoring the whole situation with cameras and earpieces. Rossi would keep his facade as a driver so he could be at one of the entrances. Tara would be at the club, too, eyeing nothing suspicious going on in the bar because there is a chance the unsub is getting help from the bartender.

When you are in front of the mirror applying the last touch of makeup, Emily is looking at you with a stare you can't decipher.

"What?" you ask, and Emily chuckles.

"Please, don't take this in a bad way, but I never thought I would live the day of seeing you using clothing like this. And Jesus, you look so hot!"

Your cheeks redens.

"It's a little bit odd coming from my boss, don't you think?" you muse, smoothing the fabric of your dress.

"Point taken," Emily raises her hands in defense. "Although I know someone who is going to run out of breath after seeing you."

You let out a scoff. It's not a surprise for you. The BAU girls - boss included - have been trying to set you up with Spencer since forever. You don't entertain the idea only because you don't think it's possible and not because you don't like the concept.

"Come on, don't say that. You are not helping to my nerves."

"Sorry, I'll shut up. We should go, though," Emily says, checking her watch.

One of the SUVs drives you to the van parking point. You needed to review the operation details.

At the back of the van - or commander point - JJ, Luke, Tara, Rossi, Matt, and Spencer see you come up with Emily.

For the best US profilers, they're not doing a good job hiding that they are gawking at you. Surely, no one imagined seeing you in such a revealing outfit. Outfit that, without a doubt, suits you extremely well, highlighting all your body attributes.

Spencer feels like he died and was resurrected after seeing you.

"Okay, guys, we need to check the details again," Emily announces.

The plan is in motion, and everyone is in position.

As expected, you arrive with Rossi at the club, who opens the door for you and helps you descend from the car. Rossi gives you a reassuring smile before letting you go.

Like a switch, you are no longer the shy SSA (Y/L/N). Now you are the woman who is going to take what she wants and attract the unsub attention doing that.

Your walk is determined, and your eyes send out flames of confidence to those who look at you. The music is very loud, something that would usually bother you, but not now. This needs to feel like your environment. That's how you like it, you tell yourself.

Almost instantly, you start to attract the looks of men who are eager for a woman like you.

You exude determination, and you don't go unnoticed.

Walking into the club, you make brief eye contact with Luke, who is on the dance floor. You see Spencer perched in a booth, nursing a beer.

At the same time, Tara is stationed at the bar.

"Remember (Y/N); the unsub expects the woman to approach men. The flirt needs to come from you," Emily reminds you by the earpiece hidden in one of the earrings you're wearing.

"Show time," you mumble to yourself.

You walk seductively to the dance floor, where a young man is dancing with a blonde. You approach and whisper something in his ear. That makes the boy completely lose interest in the blonde and start dancing with you. You smile and cling to the man's body, who wastes no time and takes your hips as if they were his possessions.

That dance certainly has nothing innocent about it. You continue whispering things in the boy's ear, and he looks more and more excited. Once you consider it a reasonable amount of time to have attracted attention, you leave the boy alone and head to the bar. Just a few meters away from Tara, a suspicious man is staring at you. You see him out of the corner of your eye as you order a drink. When the bartender passes it to you, you make subtle eye contact with Tara, who nods, indicating that the drink is clean.

You look next to you and see another man not so subtly looking at you. You know the unsub's profile, and you can't be intimidated or dominated by another man. You are the one who calls the shots. Otherwise, this will not work.

Before the man makes his attempt to seduce you, you turn to him, and with a penetrating look and disdainful voice, you stop him.

"Sorry, honey. Don't waste your time. You're not my type," and with that, you leave to move to the opposite side of the club. The guy huffs, and you're almost sure hearing him call you 'bitch' under his breath.

JJ, who's following the cameras inside the club, sees someone who looks suspect.

"Hey, this guy has been peeking at (Y/N) the entire time, and look, he clenched his fists when (Y/N) turned down that guy at the bar."

Emily confirms JJ's observation before giving you the next instructions.

"(Y/N), you're doing great. We have a possible target. So we need to raise the bet."

You know exactly what Emily means. You both had talked about the strategy to follow, having more details about what you should do than the rest of the team.

Matt and JJ look confused at each other but say nothing.

Your next step is to find another dude to seduce before delivering the coup de grace.

Luke and Spencer keep an eye on you. And while Luke is pleasantly surprised by your audacity, Spencer can't help but feel his stomach tighten. He tells himself it's because he is afraid something bad could happen to you, but inside of him, it's that and the fact of seeing you flirt with other men.

Just like you did with the guy on the dance floor, you attract the attention of another man; this time, you take his hand and pull him to the dance floor.

JJ and Matt's jaws drop to the floor. If Tara, Luke, and Spencer could do the same without giving themselves away, they would have done it, too.

As if it were your second nature, you laugh and move to the music. The man seems to enjoy the moment so much that he takes a bold step by leaning in to kiss you. You let him get closer until his lips are almost on yours. But before touching each other, you pull back with a malicious smile.

"Naughty boy. I'm who says if you can kiss or no," you pout, faking disappointment. Dizzed, the guy cocks his head and sees you walk away.

Matt chirps now. "It's him. Look boss," he tells Prentiss, pointing to the same guy JJ saw before.

There is no longer any doubt that it is him. Now you just have to catch him red-handed.

"(Y/N), we got him. It's time for the last play," Emily tells you.

With Emily's instruction, you go to the bar for another drink before heading over to where Spencer is sitting.

He tries to play it off, but he has no idea why you're approaching him.

"Is this seat taken, handsome?" You ask, with your drink in hand.

"N- no. Please," Spencer gestures to the booth on his front, but you opt to perch to his side. Spencer thinks he never has been this close to you. He looks at your eyes, and it's like you are a totally different person. It's a little bit contradictory for him, to be honest. He already likes you just as you are, but this version of you? It's driving him insane.

Some resemblance of your true self looks with a kind of curiosity the nervousness on Spencer. You don't think much about it; you assume he's playing the nervous guy who is baffled by you.

The thing is, Spencer isn't playing. He's definitely baffled by you.

"Are you okay?" You ask him, masking your question with a seductive smile.

"Yeah. Are - are you?" Spencer stutters a bit—something that is perfect for the plan but embarrassing for him.

You get closer to him to speak in his ear.

"This was Emily's idea," you tell him before kissing his ear and gently biting his lobe.

Spencer's breath hitches in his throat, and he thinks he's going to pass out any second. You're not doing it better: your heart is also pumping hard from the adrenaline. Of course, you had imagined something like that with Spencer, but only in your erotic dreams. You wouldn't dare do this on any given day.

You keep teasing Spencer, who, despite the nervousness, tries to play along. If this is the closest he will ever have you, he wants to engrave this in his memory.

"Just a little push, (Y/N). We almost have him," Emily instructs by the earpiece.

You swallow as subtly as possible as you wrap your arm around Spencer's neck, pulling him closer to you.

It's only a second between that action and the fact that you're kissing Spencer like it's your last meal.

Spencer doesn't know how to respond, and you were counting on that; it was enough time for the unsub to notice that you were the one who chose her last prey.

When Spencer is about to reciprocate the kiss, you murmur a 'sorry' into his lips and quickly pull away, giving him a disdainful look—which you hope he understands is fake—before getting up and walking toward the back exit door.

As expected, the unsub follows you towards the back door, and while your back is turned, he believes he has the advantage to attack you. What he doesn't know is that Matt and Luke are ready to lunge at him the moment he tries to touch you.

Everything that happens after is too fast.

The unsub is detained and taken to a patrol car while the team gathers around you, congratulating you on the successful operation. They all apologize to you for their previous apprehensions. You tell them that you understand and that there is no need to apologize. And it's like the switch has been flipped again since you came out of the femme fatale role.

But something is wrong. Spencer is not in the group. You see him a little further away, near the exit door of the club. Emily notices the looks between you both, and she sends the team on different tasks to close the case, leaving you and Spencer there.

There's something in his eyes that you can't decipher. You think it's resentment for using him without warning him what you were going to do.

You shyly approach him.

"It's me again," you tell him, pulling a face. You don't know what to say to make the situation better. Spencer nods.

"Yeah. You did it great, by the way," he compliments you. But it doesn't feel good like Spencer's compliments usually do.

"Look, about the kiss back there-" you start. He needs an explanation as a bare minimum.

"I know. It was fake," Spencer cuts you off.

Those words shouldn't hurt you as they do now. But isn't that the most reasonable thing to believe? The you in the club weren't you, so all you did inside was pretend.

Everything except that kiss.

If it's true you couldn't enjoy it the way you would have liked, you will never forget his lips on yours.

A tense silence takes over the moment. This is not okay.

You can't afford to lie to one of the most important people in your life, even if telling the truth takes you out of your comfort zone.

What the hell! Tonight has already been a total of 180 from a usual day for you.

"It wasn't," you mumble, and you see his eyes flicking to yours in a second.

"What?" Spencer asks, narrowing his eyes at you.

"Everything was fake, but not the kiss," you say with a stadied voice this time.

Spencer's heart races again. If you say you didn't fake it, then what he felt on your part at that moment was real?

"It wasn't fake?" He asks for clarification. You nod.

A smirk forms on Spencer's lips, seeing your cheeks redden.

There you are. The girl he had fallen for in the past two years.

"Well, you know that I am a man of science, right?" he tells you, and you frown because you have no idea where this is going.

"I know," you say with some hesitation.

"And as a man of science, I need evidence of things, you know?"

Now, you are the one who smirks at him.

"Evidence, huh?"

"Yep," he says, emphasizing the 'p' and swaying his body on his feet. You hum.

"I believe I can provide the necessary evidence if you need them," you concede, and Spencer's eyes sparkle with excitement.

Now, he is the one who reaches out and cups your cheeks. Your breathing quickens, but that doesn't stop you from standing on your tiptoes and connecting your lips with his.

This time, there is no unsub, no curious eyes are looking at you, there is no rush, there is no femme fatale role, and above all, this is not fake; it's as real as the fact that your heart beats for him, and his for you.

------------------ 

Spencer Reid's Taglist: @dreatine @nomajdetective @jayyeahthatsme @rosalinasam2 @averyhotchner @lovelyxtom @princessmiaelicia @pastelbabygirl19 @reidsbookclub @alexxavicry @gspenc @spencerreidisbae123 @calmspencer @pauline5525mgg @anamiad00msday @milivanili99 @laylasbunbunny @leahblackk @miaxx03 @missabsey @taintedstranger @khxna @hiireadstuff @pleasantwitchgarden @dysphoricsanity @levi-of-starz @themoonchildwhofell @silver138 @lovelybaka @shinytinywhispers 

[stop4death]

confessions

note: i'm not a good writer i apologize in advance. but i have challengers brain rot and can't stop thinking about it so i had to write this. thinking about writing fem!reader x tashi next (reader is lowkey in love with tashi as well in this one in my mind) lmk if u like this and maybe i will

pairing: stanford!art donaldson x fem!stanford!reader

summary: since you started at stanford, you’ve been avoiding your close high school friend, art, and you’re pretty sure he’s been avoiding you, too. when he shows up to the tennis courts while you’re playing with your roommate and asks to talk, some confessions are made.

warnings: nsfw 18+ (MDNI!), smut, sub!art donaldson, soft dom!reader, angst, fluff, grinding, hand job, praise, aftercare (reader loves art sm), art is pathetic (in a good way i love him), please lmk if i forgot anything

word count: 1.9k

posted: may 27th 2024

It’s been a little over a month since you started at Stanford. With the stress of all your classes, homework, club meetings, and private out-of-season training for tennis, it feels like you can never catch a break. To make things even worse, you’ve been actively avoiding your close high school friend, Art. You promised each other you’d stick together at school while your best friend, Tashi, and her boyfriend, Art’s best friend, Patrick, are touring. Now, you haven’t heard from him, and haven’t tried to reach out to him either. When your roommate found out you’re a tennis player, she asked if you’d be willing to teach her how to play. You happily agreed, so you’ve been going down to the courts and playing with her once a week. Today, your heart jumped out of your chest and you almost dropped your racket when you were teaching your roommate how to backhand and Art walked in, sitting down in the stands.

“You okay?” your roommate asks, concerned by your sudden change in demeanor. She looks back to where you were looking and sees Art, then turns back to you confused.

“Uh, yeah, I’m fine” you say unconvincingly, and serve the ball. She doesn’t press any further, so you continue with the lesson, trying to ignore the knot in your stomach.

You can’t help but keep glancing up at Art. He hasn’t taken his eyes off of you since he got there. Once you finish up her lesson, you say goodbye to your roommate and nervously walk up to the stands where Art is sitting.

“Hi.” you say softly, scratching at your palm anxiously.

“Hi. How have you been?” he asks, seemingly genuine.

“Um… I-I’ve been good. How about you?” you stutter, your heart racing.

“Can we talk?”

“Yeah, sure.” you sit down next to him, but he shakes his head.

“Privately?” he looks around at the few people who are on the tennis courts, including your roommate who’s still slowly packing up her bag and glancing up at you confoundedly.

The knot in your stomach twists even tighter, but you nod your head in agreement, standing up. You follow him out of the tennis courts and towards one of the dorm buildings. He unlocks a door on the first floor, gesturing for you to enter. As you walk into your friend’s dorm room for the first time, you look around. Your lips curve up slightly and you feel a warmth in your chest when you notice a photo of yourself with Art on a wall of photos of his friends and family. Your apprehensive look returns when you turn back towards the door as he shuts it behind him, standing awkwardly in the middle of his room. You’ve never been a fan of confrontation, but you should have prepared for it when you decided to completely ghost one of your best friends with no explanation.

“You can sit down, you know.” he says casually.

You glance between his desk and his bed, ultimately opting for the desk chair. You face the chair out away from the desk and sit down. He sits down on his bed, facing you.

“Nice room.” you say awkwardly, desperate to break the uncomfortable silence.

“Why did you stop talking to me?” he says plainly. You suddenly feel like you might vomit at any second. You would rather be six feet underground than in Art’s dorm room having this conversation right now.

“I didn’t mean to, I’ve just… been so busy with classes and clubs and training I guess I haven’t gotten the chance to text you.” you lie. And he sees right through it.

“Can you be serious… Why haven’t you talked to me since we got here?”

You take a deep breath, and look down at your hands. Trying to think of any other way you can stretch the truth and not have to tell him what you’re about to tell him, but your mind has gone blank. You look back up at him, realizing you have no choice but to be honest.

“Art I-” you try to find the words, your heart racing even faster. “I, um… back in high school, I had this… huge crush on you." Your cheeks flush with embarrassment as you stutter through the confession you've held onto for years, and you continue awkwardly, “And I knew you had a thing for Tashi, and it hurt because obviously who could ever compete with Tashi. She’s literally perfect. So over the summer, like a week before school started, Tashi and I were drunk and I decided to block your number. I thought maybe it would help me move on, start fresh, you know? I didn't want to keep being just friends and feeling, I don't know, awkward around you." You shift uncomfortably, the weight of your words heavy on your shoulders. "Honestly, I forgot I even did it until now. I thought maybe you were avoiding me, too, or… I don't know, I guess I just didn't think it through. I'm sorry, Art. If you don't hate me now, could we maybe try being friends again? I've moved past that crush, I promise. I won’t let it get in the way again.”

You try to make the last part sound as convincing as possible. You don’t think you’ll ever be over your crush on Art. He just sits there and listens as you talk. His expression is unreadable, and for a moment, you fear you've said too much. You look down again, fearing his response.

“Why didn’t you tell me before… that you had a crush on me?”

“Cause you liked Tashi. Like everyone else.”

“Tashi was always just a friend to me. I liked you.”

You look at him as if he must be lying, searching for any hint of irony in his tone or facial expression.

“I still do.” he says softly, and the knot in your stomach is replaced with butterflies.

You stand up from the chair, and Art looks at you with concern, thinking you’re about to walk out. You take a few steps forward and sit down next to him on his bed, your knees brushing together.

“I still like you, too.” you whisper and put a hand on his cheek. You slowly lean closer to him, and press your lips against his. His lips are soft and they taste of cigarettes and watermelon lime ChapStick, his favorite. You’ve dreamed about this taste for years. He places a hand on your thigh, deepening the kiss. You quickly move to straddle his lap. Your hands twist in his soft strawberry blond hair as you kiss him sloppily, as if you were trying to consume him. You feel his erection growing under you and grind your hips down against him, making him moan softly into the kiss. You tug at the hem of his shirt and he quickly removes it, tossing it carelessly across the room, then smashes his lips back against yours hungrily. His hand moves up your thigh to the waistband of your skirt.

“So impatient.” you say with a smirk, moving your head down to kiss his neck and taking his hand in yours, moving it away from your waistband. He whimpers at the feeling of you sucking and nibbling gently on his neck. You kiss up his neck and jawline then back to his lips quickly before pulling away. You move off his lap and sit further back on his bed, spreading your legs slightly and patting the space between them.

“Come sit here.”

He looks at you a bit confused, but he obeys. He sits between your legs on the bed, his back to you. You move your hands slowly over his arms and chest, kissing his neck from behind, bringing back the sweet sounds of his whimpering. He closes his eyes and leans his head back on your shoulder, giving you better access to his neck. He moans softly, reveling in the feeling of your lips and hands on him. You tease him, moving your hand slowly down his abdomen and stopping just before his waistband, then moving back up slowly. You do this a few times before he can’t take it anymore and his hips buck upwards, begging for your touch.

“Such a pretty boy… you want me to touch you?” you tease, speaking softly against his neck and driving him insane. He whimpers, nodding his head eagerly.

“Use your words.” you whisper in his ear. His hips buck up again, a needy whine escaping his lips.

“Please,” he gasps out, his voice soft and needy, “please touch me, I want you so bad.”

You smirk and move your hands to the waistband of his pants, tugging down gently. He wastes no time pulling his pants and boxers off in one quick movement.

“Good boy.” you say softly, sliding your hand down his abdomen. A strangled moan leaves his lips as you wrap your hand around his cock and start to stroke him. His hips jerk up, desperate for more friction.

“Fuck” he gasps out, his voice a husky whisper. You continue to stroke him slowly, your other hand wandering over his chest and abs, kissing his neck occasionally.

“Love hearing your moans… such a good boy for me.” you say softly in his ear. He can’t contain his whimpers as you continue.

“Feels… so good.” he chokes out through moans, leaning his head back on your shoulder again. He lets out a low moan as you kiss his neck again, panting heavily.

“Such a good boy.” you emphasize, playing with his hair with your other hand.

“Yes, I am… such a good boy for you.”

You can tell that he’s close to the edge.

“You gonna cum for me, baby?”

“Yes… yes.” he gasps, his eyes squeezed shut as he breathes heavily. You stroke faster now, and he lets out a loud moan as he finally lets go, cumming hard on your hand. He pants heavily as he leans back against you, trying to catch his breath. “Thank you.”

You move your hand up to your mouth, licking some of his cum off and swallowing it, then moving your hand to his mouth. He knows exactly what you’re asking of him. His breath hitches at the sight, and he leans forward to lick the rest of his cum off your hand. He swallows then closes his eyes and leans his head back against your shoulder.

“You did so good for me, angel. My good boy.” you wrap your arms around him, holding him close and rubbing his stomach as he recovers. He lets out a contented sigh as he leans back into you further, his body still trembling slightly. He puts his arms over yours, holding onto you tightly as he catches his breath. You let him lean on you for a few more minutes, still rubbing his stomach, before the two of you lay down, you still holding him from behind. He turns over to face you, his lips curling into a smile. You smile back at him and put a hand on his cheek, stroking it gently.

“I missed you so much. Please, don’t ever leave me again.”

His words are like a shot to the heart. You still feel like a horrible person for the way you hurt him, but one thing about Art is he could never hate you, no matter what you do. You pull him close, stroking his hair gently as you whisper, “I won’t. Ever. I promise.”

[maxwellatoms]

In one of your last answers, you said “series reboots are usually pretty gross and sad”, and I was wondering if you could expand on that? Assuming “reboot” covers any kind of continuation of a currently cancelled or finished show (and maybe that’s the wrong assumption!), from the outside looking in it feels like a pretty mixed bag. On one hand, if I love XYZ Show, it’s cool that I get more stories with these characters and another chance to support XYZ Show and its creators. On the other, it definitely feels like a lot of ideas can only get funding if they’re tied to something already, meaning creatives are having to now tie whatever cool idea they have to some reboot/relaunch/retread, which can feel pretty disheartening if you don’t want to do a reboot/relaunch/retread. Is that a similar feeling from your side of the industry?

Thank you so much for all your answers and insight!

Usually reboots and spin-offs are just cash grabs. It happens a lot in animation. In fact, I would argue that the entire industry is just one big cash grab now. In the 80s, everyone complained that cartoons were just half-hour commercials for toys. And they were right. And we're right back there, but now that you can't legally push toys all day, it's just general "IP". Mugs, posters, more spinoffs, whatever.

I was offered three show running gigs over the pandemic. All reboots that I would consider unwise to pursue because they were "of a different time" and didn't (in my opinion) have anything more to say. Two of them were properties created by notorious sex pests, so there's also that. The animation industry loves to prop up its sex pests.

I turned all of them down, partially because I didn't respect the original creators but also because none of them had anything going for them except just being "more of the same".

I don't think any of those projects survived the intervening years, so in retrospect I maybe should've taken the job. I'd probably feel a bit gross, but at least I'd have floors in my house.

The entertainment industry is in a bad spot. The whole thing. I've had I don't know how many pitch meetings in the last few years, and they all start the same way:

"Hey! Before we start, we just want to let you know that we're not actively producing anything right now. We think maybe soon, but we won't be picking anything up today..."

And then later:

"The little we are doing is IP, so if you have a new take on our IP or a new IP you're connected to that you can bring in, that'd be great."

I always wanted to make original stuff. There came a time when I'd had my fill of Billy & Mandy and wanted to do something else new and original. That never manifested, and I was constantly being offered IP to produce. I turned too many of those down, maybe, before deciding that it was probably better that I run the IPs that mean something to me rather than having some hack do it.

But now those jobs have all gone to celebrities and fallen live-action writers, who are also slowly being eaten by the system. WB was hot for Scooby stuff a few years back, so I pitched some ideas. A few of them were turned down for being "off-brand" in a variety of ways. WB has now made (I think) all of those off-brand shows (or something close) with celebrity show runners.

I was going through a whole Midlife Impostor Syndrome thing recently where I was wondering if maybe I don't just suck. Like, it's weird that for a couple of decades I'd have people calling me trying to get me to run shows, and now nobody will call me back about the possibility of a design job.

Talking to some friends and realizing that they were in a similar situation helped me feel like I wasn't alone. That was nice. Talking to some of the most talented colleagues in my industry made me made me realize that those people weren't getting jobs either. That was unnerving. Talking to complete strangers in other parts of the entertainment industry now has me thinking that the whole house of cards is coming down. That's real concerning, yo.

It's hard not to think it's purposeful, when deranged billionaires own the entirety of our media and want to shape a society where they can't be criticized. We're letting wealthy tech bros firebomb the very heart of our culture, and it's weird that no one is talking about it. Because (for now) we still have that capability.

[rainylana]

Taste on an Image: New neighbor

Eddie Munson x female reader

a little longer than my usually one of these! just a fluffy blurb! no warnings!

“Why don’t you go say hi instead of standing there gawking.” Wayne shook his head, closing the door to the trailer as he gave his nephew a once over.

Eddie jumped, surprised by his uncle’s appearance. “I’m not gawking.” He swallowed. “I’m observing from afar.”

“Well whatever it is you’re doing is probably freaking her out.” Wayne pointed to you outside in the yard, a few trailers down the road as you hung clothes outside on your line.

“She doesn’t even know I’m here.” Eddie rolled his eyes, leaning against the mailbox. “Geez, she sure is pretty, ain’t she?”

“Yeah.” Wayne gave a gruff nod. “Go talk to her. Be neighborly. God knows no one else around here will be.” He patted his nephews shoulder and went inside, leaving the boy alone with his thoughts.

You’d moved in just a few days ago, gaining the attention of Eddie like bees to honey. You were gorgeous, and by the looks of it, single. He readjusted his jacket and slicked back his hair, wiping his mouth with his sleeve to make sure no absent crumbs were festering on his mouth. Last thing he wanted was to embarrass himself.

Eddie walked down the gravel road, waving awkwardly at the neighbors he past that were halfway drunk for the weekend.

“Hello.” He called out to you, standing near your mailbox.

You spun around, smile on your face that nearly made him fall flat on his back, and took a step forward. “Hi!”

God, he was in love already.

“Hi.” He repeated again, lifting up a hand he wasn’t sure what he was doing with. “Hi, I’m Eddie Munson. We’re neighbors. I live just a few trailers down.” He pointed down the road to his house, blushing as he did so.

“Oh, how nice!” You beamed, setting down your laundry. “I’m y/n.” You quickly walked toward him, extending your hand for him to shake. “Nice to meet you. It’s sweet of you to come introduce yourself. No one has yet. I was starting to think I wasn’t wanted.” You laughed, tucking your hands in your pockets.

Your authenticity of casualness made his nerves settle. “Yeah, well, the people are weary of strangers.” He shook his head. “There’s a lot of kids around here, too, so be careful when you leave. I almost run one over every time I pull out of my driveway.” He chuckled, brown eyes crinkling under the sun.

You laughed and he swore it made his heart swell. Two minutes in and he was already whipped.

“Is it just you?” He asked, peaking over your shoulder and back at your home.

“Just me.” You pursed your lips. “I’m from Chicago. I used to work in the news paper office downtown but decided I needed a change of scenery.” You shrugged your shoulders, the wind barely whistling over your words.

“I run the mechanic shop here in town with my uncle.” Eddie pointed over his shoulder down to his home. “I live with him. Have ever since I was a boy.”

“Well I’d love to meet him sometime!” You smiled. “Maybe you can show me around town later this week? If you don’t mind, of course.”

“I’d be honored to escort you.” He smirked, giving you a wink that made you snicker. “Just give me a day. There’s a great diner that I can sweet talk the waitresses in giving us free desert.”

“You seem like you’re good at sweet talking.” You give him a playful look, crossing your arms.

“Well, I don’t like to brag.” He held out his arms, closing his eyes briefly in a smug look.

You tucked your hair behind your ear, looking back to your clothes line that was blowing in the wind. “I’d invite you in for something to drink but I’m afraid I’m not quiet finished unpacking yet.”

“Don’t worry about it.” He held out a ringed hand. “You need any help? Wayne and I would be happy to assist.”

“No, thank you.” You shook your head politely. “I’ll be finished soon. It’s mostly just my clothes and some decorations. I really don’t have that much.”

He could almost feel his uncle’s eyes searing into the back of his head.

“Well, I just wanted to introduce myself.” He stepped back. “Let us know if you need anything. Oh! And remember,” He pointed to your car. “You’ve got a mechanic for a neighbor if you ever need one.”

He left while he was ahead, feeling confident that he hadn’t embarrassed himself. He smiled the whole walk home, fists clenched in a celebratory manor as he practically skipped inside.

“Well?” Wayne asked, leaning against the fridge.

“What do you mean well?” Eddie snorted. “Like you didn’t stare at us the whole time through the window.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” The man hid his smirk behind his mud of coffee.

“She’s nice.” He plopped down on the couch. “She smiles a lot. She’s beautiful. I don’t know, Wayne, this might be the girl of my dreams.” Eddie laughed, shaking his head with pursed lips.

“Uh-huh.” Wayne rolled his eyes. “I wouldn’t start planning a wedding yet, son.”

[hollandsangel]

2:15 am | c. sturniolo

HI yes im alive who’s surprised (me, i am)

self proclaimed mayor of the ‘chris can’t sleep alone’ club (doing gods work, you’re welcome)

summary: chris cant sleep & you’re the perfect remedy

wc: 834

gif by @hotelstares !

you haven’t been asleep very long. maybe twenty minutes or half an hour.

you’re in the midst of a fuzzy dream when your phone starts to vibrate on your dresser next to your bed. the sound is difficult to recognize at first, getting all mixed up with your dream in your mind. eventually it wakes you up, tugging you away from the soft haze you’d been emersed in.

groggily, you reach over for the device, squinting your eyes to try and read the contact. your eyes are bleary, but you’re able to make out your boyfriends name and contact photo after a brief seceond.

“chris?” you wonder through the line upon answering, voice thick with sleep and hardly above a whisper.

“hey ma,” his voice is smooth, like he hasn’t been asleep yet.

“hi…i think i was dreaming about you,” you say as you let your head fall back against the pillow, rubbing gently at your eyes with your other hand.

“yeah?” he says through a deep breath. the smile your confession elicits from him is audible and contagious.

“yeah, either that or i just spent the last four days with you and my brain hasn’t realized we’re apart yet,” you think he must be able to hear your smile as well.

“my brain hasn’t really realized it either,” he mumbles, getting a little bit shy.

you close your eyes, content being soothed by his voice.

“what time is it?” you ask him, even if you could easily look at your phone screen for the answer. opening your eyes feels like too much work.

chris answers of course, without hesitation, “2:15,”

“it’s pretty late, you okay, bub?” you ask him before answering your own question, “can’t sleep?” you know how he gets, always needing someone close by when he drifts off.

you can imagine it’s a bit difficult tonight, considering you spent the last few nights sharing his bed. you’d found it a little harder than normal too, having gotten used to his arms tucked around you, his face pressed against your shoulder blade.

“i miss you,” he mutters and it makes you blush, “and i don’t wanna crawl into bed with matt or nick, i know it won’t help,” he admits, letting out a long breath.

“you wanna come over?”

“would that be okay?” he seems a little bit embarrassed, like he might be inconveniencing you.

“of course, chris,” you open your eyes now, reaching over to turn on your bedside lamp, “i want cuddles now,” you say sheepishly, face still half pressed against your pillow, muffling the words.

“mmk, i’ll get an uber, be there soon,”

“kay, love you,” you sigh, waiting for him to hang up.

“love you too,” he says first, making you smile even if you’ve heard it a thousand times.

in the twenty minutes it takes for chris to show up, you’re drifting in and out of sleep, trying your hardest to keep the lull of exhaustion at bay as you wait, no matter the difficulty.

soon enough, the sound of a key in the lock sends a small jolt of wakefulness through you, and you anticipate the subtle push of the door as he comes through to your bedroom.

“nick or matt’s bed wasn’t good a enough?” you tease, watching him turn a little red as he shuffles into your room.

“i wanted to sleep in your bed,” he mumbles, beanie hanging low and covering his eyebrows, pajama pants hanging lower. he lifts the duvet and crawls in with you, immediately wrapping you in his arms, “nd’ i wanted to sleep with you, not my stinky brothers.”

you laugh, stifling it against the blankets “m glad you’d rather snug with me,”

“you kidding? you’re the best snugger around.”

“i’d say,” you hum, tugging his beanie off and tossing it somewhere on your floor.

he gives you a squeeze before reaching over to turn you so you’re facing him, “thanks for letting me come over,” he mutters, beaming in the low light. he looks so pretty like this, grinning down at you, illuminated by the soft glow of your lamp. he reaches up slightly and brushes your hair from your face.

you have a small moment of realization; he’s admiring you the same way you’re admiring him. you think your heart grows in size, gratitude making it swell up.

“thanks for comin’,” you whisper back, leaning up so your noses touch.

chris closes the gap, giving you a gentle kiss before pulling back and kissing your forehead too.

“night,” he tucks you against him, keeping you close, “i love you,” it’s sweet, how his tone changes. it’s tired now, chalked full of sleep and you can’t help but think it’s because he’s with you now, and that’s what puts him at ease enough to finally relax.

“i love you too,” you whisper into the barely-there space between you, watching as his eyes close and his lashes kiss the tops of his cheeks.

you can’t help yourself, leaning forward just enough to kiss him there too.

.

.

.

.

tags ! @st4rswrld @urfavvev3lyn @mattsturnioloarchive @averysbestyears @its-jennarose @strnilolo @grimholic @tworosesblackthorn @mattscoquette @dazednmatthews @pinkishpearls

[jarofstyles]

Let Your Hair Down

Hello and welcome to the second part of Put Your Records On!

I think you’re realllly gonna enjoy it 🪩😈

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WC- 3.6k

Warnings- exhibitionism, unprotected sex, it's dirty and I know ya'll eat that up

Being pulled into a bathroom stall with Harry Styles was the last thing Y/N would have ever imagined, but here she was. The man pressing her against the wall with his hand up the slit of her dress, a soft moan leaving her mouth as his nimble fingers found her clit with little problem. Maybe Harry had done this often, or he was just naturally gifted to know a woman’s body, but she didn’t care. For the first time in a long time, she felt really fucking good. 

“Fuck.” She whimpered, feeling lips drag down her neck. Her own hand reached between them to cup over his cock, his own noise of pleasure vibrating her as she felt him. It got a gasp from her, the fucking size of it against her palm. He was big. Big in the way she’d not experienced, and thick. Immediately she knew that she needed to feel it better, to take him inside of her and let him do whatever the fuck he wanted as long as she got to experience it. “You’re so big.” The words were higher pitched, Y/N panting as she felt a finger slip into her. 

“I know, sweetheart.” He cooed. “I’ll make sure you can handle it.” Y/N was sure he would. Nothing about him even hinted at the fact that he’d do anything but make her feel incredible. “Hate that you’ve had t’deal with little dicks and people who don’t know how to use them. Makes me sick thinking of them wasting such a pretty girl’s pussy.” His mouth was filthy, she was finding out. Thank god. He didn’t know how badly she needed a proper fuck, one where she’d be thinking about it for days after. Her purse had so thoughtfully been hung up on the back of the stall door, the empty bathroom full of the muffled music and their kisses. 

“Haven’t felt good in so long.” She admitted, grinding her cunt into his hand. “Make me feel good, please. Need it, need you.” Who the fuck cared if she sounded desperate? She was. SO fucking desperate that she was allowing him to fuck her here because she couldnt wait. He’d offered to take her to his place but she couldn’t wait that long to be touched. 

“I will, needy girl. Promise. M’not like those other guys…Gonna make sure you cum for me.” Harry was on a mission, it seemed. His palm smacked against her clit as he added another finger, making her whimper into the air. Teeth scraped against her neck as his free hand tugged the straps down of her dress, revealing her bare breasts. “Fuck me, you little minx. Look at you.” 

Harry was in awe of her, how pretty she was. How perfectly she fit into his hands, how she looked just like what he’d dreamed about- if not better. He couldn’t help himself, leaning his head down and pressing sloppy kisses to the curves of her tits before taking a nipple into his mouth. The reward was feeling her pussy pulse around his fingers, her hand in his hair as he lapped at her breast. The swollen little nipple was taken lightly between his teeth as he sucked, making her keen. Sure, he was a bit drunk , but he would never be able to forget this. She made such pretty noises, tasted so good on his tongue, and her cunt was vice tight around his fingers. Thankfully she was more than wet, making a mess on his fingers as he fucked them into her needy little hole. 

Y/N’s eyes closed as her head leaned against the wall. The man was bent slightly, sucking at her tits and making her close to cumming just from that. It had been ages since she’d orgasmed from fingering, and nipple play hadn’t always done much for her but the way Harry was doing it, she’d never felt something more erotic in her life. “H-Harry, please.” She pleaded. “I want you inside me. Fuck me, I need it.” As much as the woman wanted to test out his mouth, she was gagging for his cock. “I’ll suck you another time, I promise I just…” A sniffle left her. “I feel empty. I need more.” 

Instead of being offended, he hissed as he pulled away from her breasts. A string of spit that connected his lips to them broke as he rose back to full height, standing over her as his fingers fucked into her and scissored slightly, making her cling on to him. “Fingers aren’t enough for you, I know. Just needed to get you stretched.” His nose brushed hers as he took her for a sloppier kiss. “Tiny cunt wouldn’t be able to take it otherwise. Still have my doubts…” The faux pout made her whine. 

“I can, I can take it. I promise.” She swallowed, looking up at him in desperation. “Make it fit, please. I just want it in me, don’t care if it hurts.” It was true. Y/N would even like it if it hurt a little, as long as he got himself inside of her. “

“You sure, baby?” He taunted, watching her eyes glaze over as his fingers fucked into her harder. The sound was sloppy and filthy, knowing how wet she was getting for him, but he lived for shit like this. Loved that he finally got to meet Y/N and do the things he’d been thinking about for months. She was just his type. “I really don’t know if such a tight hole can take my cock, no matter how sopping wet it is.” 

“I can.” A mix of the desperation and drunkenness made her eyes water. “Give it to me, please. I’m begging you, fuck me. I’ll be so good for you, you can cum in me- I’m, birth control.” Her words stuttered as she pleaded with him. Harry cooed at her, clicking his tongue at the way she was losing it. 

“Oh, sweet little thing. No need to cry yet. I’ll be nice and give it to you.” He promised. “Undo my trousers for me.” This was quite possibly the most irresponsible thing for him to do and he knew it. Taking a girl he’d had a crush on into the bathroom at an after part and fucking her raw was something that would make his manager burst blood vessels, but he didn’t care. All he wanted was her snug cunt wrapped around him as he fucked her, he wanted to empty his balls in her and let her feel it drip down her thighs as they left the bathroom. 

The girl was obedient, taking his pants down to find a lack of briefs on him too. Harry’s knack for not wearing underpants had struck again, but this time it was a positive. Her smaller hand wrapped around him, stroking as their mouths buttoned together again, Harry letting out a grunt as her thumb rubbed over his weepy slit. He knew he’d been attracted to her for a while but having her hands on him now was sending him into overdrive. His hand curled around her throat as he moved his hips, fucking himself in her hand and licking into her mouth, desperate for more of her taste. 

There was only so much he could take, though. If he had it his way, they wouldn't be rushed, but considering it was a public restroom and there was a chance of getting caught he was aching to get inside of her. “You like to listen to directions?” Harry did love a person who was just as willing to please as he was. Being worshiped and doing the worshiping were both things he loved, but it was nice to see someone pine for him. There was a reason he loved his job as much as he did. 

“Sometimes.” Her eyes blinked up at him slowly, allowing his hand to slide up and his still wet fingers into her mouth. The man rubbed them over her tongue, pulling them out slowly before pushing back in. Y/N listened very well to directions so far, even if her eyes twinkled with the mischief he’d be happy to explore with her. The way she was sucking his fingers clean was a clear indication on how well they get along.

“I do love a bit of a challenge, but tonight I need you t’be good for me. We’ve got to be quick which…” He breathed out as she dragged her thumb over his slit again. “Is a shame, considering I want to spend hours on you. But since you seem so keen on trying to take me, m’gonna let you try.” 

Y/N hummed against his digits, real disappointment painting her features as he finally tugged them out. It was embarrassing to admit how much she’d liked doing that, fucking him with her hand and sucking on his fingers, seeing the dark glint in his gaze. But she wanted him in any way she could, and she wasn’t about to refuse him. “I can take it. You’ll make it fit.” 

A low growl echoed in the room as he placed his hands under her thighs, adjusting her dress to be pushed open before picking her up. It took her by surprise, the girl squeaking and wrapping her arms around his shoulders as she was suddenly lifted and pinned against the wall but- fuck. Fuck, this was hot. She went to say just that, but he beat her to it. “Need you to try and be quiet for me, okay?” His lips pecked hers, far more chaste and sweet compared to the other kisses. “M’gonna make sure you feel good.” With her body snug against the wall and her legs around his hips, he released a thigh to guide himself to her entrance. 

In all her sex experiences, she couldn’t recall being this excited. Feeling him rub the tip through her slit, she was nearly buzzing in anticipation. The help of the alcohol reduced her nerves thankfully, because if she was sober she’d be losing her mind about him holding her up- but right now, all she could think about was the press of his head breaching her hole. 

He was right. He was big, almost too much so, but Y/N liked the feeling. They’d been feeding into something dirtier with that talk, but her sharp intake of breath made the man pause, looking at her for any sign to stop. “I know, sweetheart. It’s a lot. Do you want me to stop?”

“No, please don’t.” Her eyes widened. “No, I need it. Just- just push more in. I’m okay.” She wasn’t lying. Yeah, it did hurt a little but she could already feel herself adjusting. Going slow was just prolonging the pain. “It’s just been a while.” 

Harry liked the sound of that. Being the one to break her dry spell was an honor. “That’s alright.” He nuzzled his nose against hers as he let himself push further in. “Think you’ve just got a snug little cunt that’s needed a proper fuck. M’sorry it took us so long to meet.” It really was a shame. “Could’ve fixed this problem so much sooner.”

In all truth, Harry had a feeling he’d end up in a situation like this with Y/N. He’d had a crush for a while, sure, but he was ruthless when it came to the people he wanted to pursue, even if it didn’t seem like it. If it had been any other events in the last few months he’d have blown them off, but fate really did make them wait until now to indulge in one another- and he’d make sure that it wasn’t the last. 

“There we are, baby. Just let me in.” He coaxed, feeling her engulf him. “Almost there. M’so proud of you for taking it all. Know it isn’t easy, but you feels so fucking good wrapped around me.” Perfect for him, really. Hot, tight, slippery, hugging him the way he’d needed, he finally got all the way inside before grinding up into her. Y/N was at her limit, thankful he wasn’t a millimeter bigger otherwise she truly couldn’t have taken it- but this was perfect. 

“Please, go ahead.” She pleaded, threading her fingers through the hair at the bottom of his neck. “Fuck me, I know you can give me what I need.” 

And hell, he was up for the challenge. 

There was no way to describe how it felt between them. Electric, maybe? Erotic? His deep thrusts as he began to truly fuck into her, the sound of her wet cunt being thrust into and her muffled moans echoing off the stall walls, it felt like cloud nine. Her hair was a wreck behind her and she knew it, but there wasn’t a care in the world other than getting her fill of Harry. 

He was watching her with an intensity that she couldn’t match to anything else. Maybe it was just a part of his personality, that intent stare and all of his attention being on the person he was with, but having him watch her every move, every shift of her lips, it made her even more aroused. Her head rolled back, resting against the wall as he bounced her on his cock, reveling in the feeling of being filled up over and over again. 

Harry himself, he was trying his hardest not to orgasm too early. He was fucking her raw, feeling every inch of her silky cunt sheath around his bare cock with every movement. God, she was so wet and hot on his skin, and he knew he’d be thinking about this night for the rest of his life. There was no way he could let this be a one and done with how he was feeling. “You’re perfect.” He whispered, lips finding her exposed neck as he did the work for them. Feeling her fingers tug slightly at his hair only fueled him further. “Feel so fucking good, making a mess on my cock. Gonna make me walk out there with my cock wet in my pants, hm? Dripping down to my balls, gonna smell like you all night.” And he’d enjoy every single second of it. If it wasn’t gross, he’d spend the next few days with her smell on him. 

Maybe he’d just have to talk his way into having her come over and roll all over his sheets so her scent could linger. 

“Yeah.” She answered with a whimper. “And I-I want your cum dripping out of me when we walk out.” Y/N didn’t know where she found the guts to say that, but she had a hunch it was a mix of the lemon drops and Harry’s cock deep in her tummy. “No one’s gonna know but I will. I’ll feel it the whole time.” 

The words had him working faster, harder. It was hard not to get even more frenzied when she said that shit out loud, the thing he’d been hoping for all night. “Fuck, m’gonna give it to you. I’ll give you every drop.” His teeth grazed her neck, not thinking clearly as he pulled the skin into his mouth and sucked harshly. He heard her gasp, her fingers finding more of his hair and pushing him further into her neck. So he did it again, a bit further up as he held her still and fucked up into her. Completely entangled in each other, this was the best he’d ever felt at an after party and there were doubts it could get much better than this. 

Y/N had a thing for love bites, but she’d never expected Harry to go for that. Feeling the sting of it while he fucked her pushed her closer to her orgasm, the feeling of her clit rubbing against his torso and his cock digging right into her, it was hard to keep from moaning louder than she should have. 

Harry didn’t really care if they got caught anymore. The thrill of it was hotter than hell, someone walking in and finding out he was fucking the prettiest new IT Girl in the bathrooms after winning awards. A celebratory fuck and the beginning of something he was very excited to continue. Her moans stuttered as his thrusts punched into her, legs tightening around him as he licked over the tender spots on her neck. 

“Harry, Harry- oh my god, you’re gonna make me cum.” She tried to whisper but failed. How could she care about volume when she was having the best fuck of her life? 

“Good, that’s what we want. Isn’t it?” He hummed, hands tightening on her thighs while he continued his pace. It could be felt on his prick, every little quiver of her hole as she got closer and closer to the edge. “Don’t have to worry about not finishing when you’re with me. If we had more time you’d have at least t-three.” His own words stuttered as he could feel the heat crawling up his stomach and his balls tightening. “Do it for me, pretty girl. Cum all over my cock, want t’put it away wet. Don’t you? Cum for me.” 

Y/N did, she wanted to make sure she gave him what he wanted. His words encouraging her, his lips kissing under her hear tenderly, his cock hitting her where she needed, her swollen clit rubbing against his torso over and over again, she couldn’t help it. As hard as it had been in her other situations, Harry made it so fucking easy to get to that point, whimpers leaving her throat as he talked her through her orgasm. 

“There we go, that’s my girl. Fuck, you’re drenching me. Feels so good, you’re doing so fucking good.” He felt it as she came, a light gush making him even more wet. A hiss left his teeth, holding her body as it got a little weaker. “Oh, that’s what we needed. You’re perfect. I’m gonna give you e-everything I have.” 

Y/N was hazy but she managed to nod, pressing their lips back together with the remaining strength she had left. His thrusts became sloppy as he groaned into her mouth something that resembled her name, repeating it three times before he let out a broken “fuck’. She could feel it inside of her, the hot cum pulsing inside of her and making her moan in response. It felt incredible, being filled like this. His cock working it into her, the heat added to the end of her orgasm as he worked through his. 

“That’s perfect, H.” She whispered to him, stroking the nape of his neck and over his shoulders. “You’re so beautiful. I feel so good, you-you’re amazing.” It wasn’t her best work, but her brain felt like it had melted a bit. The man was responsive to the praise though, letting out a whine of his out before his hips stilled. The kisses continued but it was hard when they were both panting, smiles making it more difficult as she let out a giggle that was followed by his own. Standing there with his cum coated prick wasn’t how he imagined he’d end his evening, but he’d never been happier. 

“Shit.” She exhaled, head dropping back as his own rested against the side of hers. It was quiet for a few moments before he turned his lips to her cheek, peppering a few kisses there as they caught their breath. “So that’s what bathroom sex is like. And a penetrative orgasm.”

Harry burst into his own little laugh at her words, lifting the sensual mood into a sweeter one. His eyes were lighter as he looked at her, a fond smile on his swollen lips. “Yeah, darling. Somewhat. Bathroom sex isn’t always as good as that, but I think it’s good for us.” It was hard to concentrate even still, seeing how gorgeous she was. How he’d been lucky enough to be allowed to touch her so intimately was a mystery to him, but he was more than thrilled about it. “D’you want it to happen again?”

“Mmmm.” Pretending to thing, she laughed at his offended face. “I’d love to. Made a mess on you, you should know how good it was for me.” Brushing the hair out of his face, she wiped a bit of her lipstick from the corner of his lips. He was a bit of a mess, would definitely need a wet wipe to his neck and lips, but it was beautiful. Seeing him freshly fucked was a new favorite. “So, yeah. I would. But perhaps a bed or couch, even a kitchen counter. Don’t want to kill your back by doing this too often.”

“I’d happily fuck it up if it meant a repeat of that.” He scoffed. “C’mere.” Harry couldn’t stop kissing her, and hopefully he wouldn’t have to. A happy exhale left his nose as he pressed repetitive kisses to her mouth, making her giggle- but the moment was interrupted by the bathroom door swinging open and two very drunk, very loud girls walking in. 

“I heard Harry Styles was here but I haven’t seen him.” one of them huffed, making Y/N roll her lips together to stop from laughing. 

“I know. God, he’s gorgeous isn’t he? But he was hanging out with Y/N, and that makes me nervous. She’s fucking stunning too. I’d like a go with both of them.”

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

All In 7

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 noncon/dubcon, age gap, power imbalance, low self esteem, and possible untagged elements. 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 meet a mysterious man on a night out with your sister. (petite!reader)

based on the winning option for this poll

Characters: casino owner!Bucky Barnes

Note: another week...

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.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

When Bucky leaves, you feel less than relief. It’s easier to breathe without him around but your heart continues to race. You don’t move until you see him drive away. You steel yourself with the manufactured lie before you go back inside. 

As you do, you’re surprised to find Roxie beside your mom, both of them close to the front window. You sigh. Were they watching? You guess you can be thankful Bucky hadn’t done more than talk. 

Your mom faces you with a sheepish grin, “so... did you get it?” 

You look between her and your sister. Roxie has her phone in hand and an arch in her eyebrow, “I’d die for a boss like that.” 

“I...” you glance the screen before she can hide it. Oh. She had a picture of him pulled up on Google. So, they both know exactly who he is. 

“He must be really hands on if he came all the way down here to offer you a job,” Roxie tilts her head. 

“That’s the sign of a good boss,” your mom insists.  

“Really, I think his eyes were the kicker. So blue.” 

“Rox,” your mom nudges her. “A man like him, he’s got line ups, I’m sure. Besides, she’s too young for him.” 

“Well, I’m older,” Roxie smirks, “maybe she can get me a job too.” 

“Er, uh,” you wring your hands, “I should start dinner.” 

“You didn’t say if you go the job,” Roxie challenges. 

“Yeah,” you utter softly, “I got a job. Just cleaning.” 

“Hey, it’s better than nothing,” you mom assures as she comes to you. She puts her hands on your shoulders, “I’m so proud of you.” 

“Mom,” you try not to look pained as you return her smile, “it’s nothing. Really. A cleaner.” 

“We all gotta start somewhere.” 

“Yeah,” Roxie scoffs, “most of us a lot sooner.” 

“Oh, don’t be such a downer,” your mom lets you go to spin on your sister, “don’t rain on her parade.” 

“Whatever. I’d rather hand out flyers than clean toilets,” she rolls her eyes. 

You purse your lips and shy away. You feel worse that they believe you so easily and why wouldn’t they? No one would think that someone like you would merit such a preposterous offer from a man like Bucky. You still can’t really believe it. 

Maybe it’s just some twisted hallucination. You could wake up tomorrow and be just like you were before. You never thought you would long for that but now, being alone, being the loser, that feels safe. Being noticed, being someone, that’s terrifying. 

🃏

You take your time making dinner, a brief escape from reality. The distraction keeps you busy enough that your chest stops thrumming, yet your nerves are still spastic. You’re not very hungry once it’s done but you make yourself eat. 

Roxie heads off for work shortly after you gather up the dirty dishes and your mom goes to change into her pajamas. She startles you as you scour the pan you used to bake the chicken. You splash yourself and hiss. 

“Sorry, hon, I was just coming to check on you,” she leans against the counter, “you’re nervous, aren’t you?” 

You shrug, to fraught to answer. 

“You get restless, I can tell. You do everything just to keep from fidgeting,” she says, “it’s going to be okay. You’ll be just fine and you’ll see, it’ll be nice to have your own money.” 

“I know, mom,” you murmur, turning your face down to the sink, “it’s not that I don’t want to work, I just... I guess it’s the change that freaks me out.” 

“Change is good, even if it’s scary,” she says. “You’ll see.” 

“Mm,” you hum and try not to shatter, “I just want to help out.” 

“Hon, you worry about yourself. Please--” 

“No, I owe you.” 

“Owe me? I’m your mother. I just wish I could give you more,” she smiles and squeezes your arm. “If you’re not some busy working girl, we’ll celebrate on my day off.” 

“Sure,” you accept grimly. 

She leaves you and you’re silent as you finish up the dishes. You put them away and wipe the counters. When you finish, you shut off the lights. You say good night from the doorway and retreat into your room. Tomorrow. That’s all he said. That’s the only detail you go before he strolled off. 

You grab your phone and fall back on your bed. All you want is to lose yourself in a fic or a discussion board or even just scrolling mindlessly. You can’t. It’s like he’s taking over everything. There it is, that little icon you rarely see, a new message.  

You pull down the menu and stare at the preview. Two hours ago. You’re surprised he didn’t show up to check why you hadn’t answered. Again. You will at least need to send something before the night is over. 

‘Hey doll. I’ll send a car tomorrow morning at nine. Just bring yourself.’ 

You shudder and stare at the blue bubble around the text. Oof. Nine? That’s early for you. You suppose it’s about time you break that bad habit. 

‘Sorry. I was making dinner. Nine is good. Thank you.’ 

You hit send and put your phone down. You slide your laptop across the bed and open it up. You’ll watch something. That old BBC drama you found on the free streaming service has been pretty interesting, but you think you only have one episode left. That’s good, you can’t be up all night. 

Your phone buzzes. Shoot. Alright. You can do this. You have to get to it. You swipe up your phone again, surprised to find it’s still shaking.

Oh no. He’s calling! 

You panic and nearly hit decline before you manage to drag your thumb the other way. You put the phone to your ear, unable to muster even a squeak. What do you say? 

“Hey, doll,” Bucky’s voice drawls from the speaker, “hope I didn’t interrupt dinner.” 

“No, er, we’re done.” 

“Ah, and are you alone?” 

You frown, “yes?” 

“Good, good. Isn’t that sweet of you, cooking dinner for your family. That’s what I like about you. You take care of those you love.” 

You gulp. You don’t know what to say. 

“What was for dinner?” He asks as you hear a soft rustle. 

“Um, chicken and potatoes,” you answer bluntly. It’s an easy question. 

“You’re not busy or something?” He wonders. 

“Uh uh,” you shake your head even though he can’t see, “I’m just... in bed.” 

“Early night, huh?” He asks. 

“I guess, I was going to watch a show.” 

“Right, right,” he clicks his tongue as something taps followed by other indiscernible movements, “you in your pajamas? Bet those are cute?” 

“Not... yet,” you croak. 

“Mmm,” he purrs, “I just got out of the shower.” 

“You... did?” 

“Getting ready for tomorrow,” he explains, “gotta admit, I’m a bit impatient. You’ll see that about me, doll. When I want something, it’s hard to wait.” 

“Uh, oh...” you stutter out. 

“For you, I can,” he vows, “doll, do me a favour.” 

“A favour?” You echo thinly. 

“Mmm, yeah, I want you to get in your pajamas and send me a picture. Just to tide me over,” he coaxes. 

“A picture?” You open your eyes wide and gape at the wall. 

“Sure, just a taste. I wanna know what I should imagine next to me when I lay down.” 

“What?” You squeak, shocked by his insinuation. Imagining you?! 

“I can’t help myself. It’s lonely here.” 

“I...” you pick at your lower lip, “one sec. I... I gotta...” 

You put the phone on the bed and push yourself off the mattress. You trip on your own feet and hope he can’t hear you stumbling around. Your pajamas are kind of silly. You don’t really have any sexy ones. Maybe if he sees them, he’ll change his mind. 

The only matching pair you have have snoopy on the top and a large check bottom on the pants. You fish them out and change. It’s okay. He can’t see you at that moment. Still, it feels like he is watching you. Just as his presence has lurked around you all day. 

You go back to your phone and fumble around, “sorry, I... just... figuring out the camera.” 

You hear his timbre but can’t make out his words from the small speaker. You open the camera app and flip the camera. You move around, trying to take the pic, and lean the phone on the top of your dress. You angle it and mutter to yourself as you struggle to set the timer. 

You take several pictures before you’re not entirely discontent. You look awkward in all of them. The pants, like all your pants, are too long and gather around your feet. You don’t know how to pose either. Quite frankly, you look frightened in every single one. 

“Alright, I think...” you babble and find your way into the conversation and choose the least egregious frame. You hesitate and close your eyes as you push your thumb down on the arrow. 

You bring the phone back to your ear, “are you still there?” 

“Always, doll,” he assures and once more, the phone shifts around noisily. “Mm, Snoopy? I like it. More of a Woodstock myself but... Mm mm mm, you look good.” He pauses as you wriggle and your cheeks burn hotly. “Sexy.” 

“No,” you burst out without thinking. 

“No? You don’t think I’m telling the truth?” 

“I didn’t... say so, it’s... just pajamas,” you sniff, “sorry, I didn’t mean to argue.” 

“Doll, relax. Thing about you, you don’t even have to try.” 

You don’t reply. You have no idea what to say or even if you should believe him. You saw the picture, you look in the mirror every day, you know what you are. It still feels like some weird game. 

“Here, gimme a sec,” he says from his end. 

More rustling and the noise of a digital shutter. Your phone vibes shortly and you pull it away from your cheek. You squint at the screen as it lights up and an image buffers in the conversation. 

“Huh, uh, it’s not loading. My phone is--” you nearly swallow your tongue and gasp. 

Oh gosh. It’s a picture of him in almost nothing. Just a towel. His long hair is damp and pushed back and his dark beard contrasts his bright blue eyes as he aims the lens of his phone at himself in the mirror. His stomach is ridged with muscle, his chest trimmed with hair that trails down, and the towel hangs low, giving a generous hint of his pelvis. The vee above the fabric feels overly salacious. 

“Doll?” You hear the low tone of his voice and make yourself look away. You raise the phone again to your ear. “Everything okay? You got really quiet.” 

“I...” 

“You like what you see?” He asks coyly. 

You put your hand to your forehead, your flesh is fiery. It’s so much so fast. Just that morning, you’d convinced yourself you would never see or talk to him again. And now he’s sending you pictures like that and... flirting with you? 

“Yes,” you eke out then cover your mouth. He snickers and you clear your throat before you peel your hand away, “sorry, I mean... you’re... you... you must work out.” 

“Doll, you’re too adorable,” he says. 

You don’t say a word. You’re mortified. He knew you saw that. He knows you’ve seen him like that. He sent it! 

It’s all too much. You’re lightheaded. You rub your chin and shiver. 

“I should... sleep.” 

“Mm, me too,” he says, “hopefully I dream of you.” 

You giggle nervously, “really?” 

“Sure, doll. All I can do is dream. Until tomorrow,” he sighs, “and what about you? You gonna dream about me?” 

You squeak and stammer, “I... I... I...” 

He laughs again, “you really are so cute in those pajamas.” 

“Please,” you blurt out, “delete it.” 

“Now, why would I do that?” He challenges. 

“I don’t... know.” 

“I love it,” he insists, “you’re not deleting mine, are you?” 

“N-no, no, I’ll keep it.” 

“Hm, good,” he intones, “it’s all for you so don’t you go showing me off to all your friends.” 

It’s your turn to laugh. “Promise, I won’t.” If only he knew you don’t have any friends to show. 

[certifiedlovergirlsstuff]

a new life is born | s.r. x fem!reader

“congratulations mom and dad, it’s a healthy baby girl.” the doctor confirmed for both of you while the nurses worked to clean your new born. your skin was sweaty, baby hairs stuck to your forehead, legs were shaky from being bent for the past hour. you’ve been in the hospital since last night once your contractions started.

but you were a mom now. you birthed a babygirl and you couldn’t be happier with your life. turning your head to the left with a dazed smile, stood spencer with the widest smile you’ve seen on his face to date. “a girl. we have a little girl,” chuckling from glee.

“we have a girl,” he repeated as he leaned forward to kiss your forehead and tuck some of your hair away. “i want her to be just like you,” very confident in the chances of that happening.

spencer shook his head, “for your sake i hope not and for my heart i hope she looks like you.” a gentle finger tracing over your nose, the shape of your lips. “well i only hope she doesn’t get your puppy eyes, it’ll be her one power over both of us.” staring directly into said eyes right now.

“alright, she’s ready for you.” a nurse walked to your right side with your baby, now wearing a pink bow. “would you like to do skin to skin? helps her recognize you through touch. also good for the dad as well.” waiting for either to reply first.

“i’ll go first.” shimming your hospital gown away from your shoulder and chest so there was enough surface area, “i have a feeling i’m gonna fall asleep soon, but i’m gonna hold her until i can keep my eyes open.” holding your hands out to take her then second guessing and getting them in the cradle position but still not sure, “uh, which is better?” asking the nurse who hovered.

“i’d say hands so you can lay her to your chest. cradling is better for later.” nodded and slowly took your baby from the nurse and maneuvered her tiny self so her head was resting on your shoulder. “oh wow,” whispering to yourself. it completely sunk in now, she’s yours.

“i’m a freaking mom,” whispering over her back towards spencer. a slow palm rubbed along her back and quickly her breathing synced with yours, her tiny fists were too cute.

there was a little space on your bed and you called for spencer to join you. he sank down slowly and threw a long arms over your shoulder, his free hand caressing your forearm. “what should we name her? we can’t call her fruits anymore.” whispering beside your ear.

your mouth twisted, “i kinda want to name her after something from literature. like juliet or charlotte. do you have any ideas?” turning his way.

his eyes were focused on the sleeping babe, a little smile quirking a corner of his lips. “maybe annabeth. the combination of anna and elizabeth forms the meaning of god has favored me. and i think that works for us as well, we’ve been favored by having her. also anna can mean beautiful and it’s all because of you.” kissing your temple, his kisses have been never ending the past nine months.

“annabeth… annabeth diana reid. our beautiful gift.” pressing her first kiss of many to her head. “i think it’s your turn now. my eyes are getting heavy.”

spencer nervously started to unbutton his shirt and then slowly you traded off. you watched as spencer stood back up and kept a gently motion to his body wanting her to continue napping. he kept his voice low as he recited facts about anything, knowing she’s gonna love the sound of his voice growing up.

“can you tell us a story?” something you’ll ask spencer from time to time when you needed just a little push into dreamland. “of course, sweetheart. i’ll do my favorite book from childhood, alice in wonderland. once upon a time there was a girl named alice…”

[dira333]

The Soulmate Theory - Todoroki Shouto x Reader

I welcome you to my probably last-ever Soulmate fic. As much as I love reading this trope, it's gotten harder and harder to write. I hope you like it. This is for @shoulmate

Trope: You share your Soulmate's pain.

Soulmates used to be a thing. 

A long, long time ago, way before the first ever Quirk was documented, Soulmate bonds were just as common as Quirks are nowadays.

Your grandmother used to be fascinated by it, told you stories about her grandmother who was convinced she shared a soulmate bond even though not one case had been documented in the last hundred years before her.

It’s only natural, you’d say, that you didn’t realize you had one. After all, why would you think that?

-

Pain has always been part of your life.

Your wrists hurt and your legs hurt and your back hurts and your stomach hurts… all the time. The doctors cannot find anything, some even accuse you of pretending for attention. You’d gladly trade all that attention against a pain-free day.

Your Quirk’s Telekinesis and you’re so glad about it, because how else would you be able to move that pen and write that notes when your hands hurt like this?

You’re getting better at it too, threading a needle or picking up the last grain of rice with your thoughts alone. 

-

A dull ache has settled behind your left eye after what has been the most intense pain flare you’ve ever had. All you want to do is rest. 

But your mind is reeling, craving an outlet for all the thoughts inside your head.

Your restless eyes find some fabric in the corner of the room. Soon enough a few needles are working their magic, a creation coming to life before your eyes.

You might not be able to walk around most days, but at least you can still create outfits you’d love to flaunt in.

-

Years later

-

“Can you take over my student?” Kameko asks, “He wants a completely new costume.”

“What year?”

“First year. And his old one wasn’t even destroyed.”

“So? Maybe he found something out about himself.”

She huffs. “Please? I still have to finish Amajiki’s new design and you know how anxious he gets.”

“Yeah, no problem. Can you take another first year off my plate then? His name is Midoriya and he ripped it in half, it seems.”

“Oh yeah, give it to me.”

Someone clears their throat. You look up from your work into a set of heterochromatic eyes, one blue, one grey.

“Yes?” You ask. “How can I help you?”

“I’m here for my new Costume.”

“Are you Midoriya?” You point at the green fabric on your desk, or rather what’s left of the costume.”

“No, I’m Todoroki Shouto.”

“Ah,” Kameko doesn’t even look guilty at being caught. “You’re with her then. Do you need the think tank?” She points at the cubicle where you can go and plan outfits.

Todoroki looks like he isn’t quite sure, so you carefully slide off your chair and shuffle over.

“Come, come,” you wave at him, “It’s never wrong to brainstorm.”

“Are you hurt?” He asks and has the decency not to point at how you clearly favor your left leg. 

“Not more than usual,” you try to joke and though he looks a little confused, he doesn’t ask more questions.

.

Todoroki is a quiet individual. He’s not shy, that you perceive immediately, but he makes sure to check if he’s allowed to speak before he opens his mouth.

He’s also insanely pretty, the red, rough skin over his left eye giving him even more appeal. But he’s also one year younger than you, so you keep those thoughts locked away in the back of your head.

“If you want to change the design, we can do that, no problem.” You remind him when you’ve finally found something he seems almost happy with.

“I don’t want to cause you more work.”

“If you don’t cause me any work I’d have nothing to do,” you joke and he looks at you quietly for a while. You wonder if he’s ruminating over your joke or waiting for you to talk on and sadly, you’re more than likely to ramble in a confusing silence.

You gesture, somehow now talking about the importance of fresh orange juice for the human body, a topic you didn’t even know you could talk about beforehand when your hand connects harshly with the door behind you. Your wrist catches the doorknob and the pain is immediate, sharp and cool, like you’d imagine being stabbed with an icicle would feel like.

Todoroki hisses behind you and you’d compliment him on the empathy if it wouldn’t hurt like that.

When you turn, hand pressed against your chest, he’s cradling his own hand before dropping it. “Musclespasm,” he explains quietly, offering you a hand that is covered in ice. “Do you want me to cool it? It helps.”

-

“I’d like to add some more details to my costume,” Todoroki approaches you with a Bento Box in hand.

You nod, unable to speak for a moment as you focus your Quirk on a particularly tough seam.

“No problem, as I said. What’s it about?”

“Could we use the think tank?”

You turn to check but it’s clearly occupied.

“Sadly not. Is it more complicated then?” You nod at the Bento Box. “Do you think it will keep us occupied during lunch break?”

“No, this is…” Todoroki hesitates for a second before holding it out to you. “It’s just something I wanted to give you. My sister made these.”

 You open it with curious fingers to reveal twelve perfectly shaped cookies.

“That’s lovely, but why me?”

His cheeks turn pink and his lips curl into an adorable pout before he eventually talks.

“I mentioned that I was pleased with the changes and she told me to say thank you.”

“Aww,” you coo. “Your older sister then?”

“Yes,” the pout exaggerates, “I would have said thank you without her intervening.”

“Of course you’d have.” - “But my cookies didn’t turn out good.”

You both speak at the same time, or rather you accidentally interrupted him and he still talked on.

You stare at him now, mouth agape as you process his words.

“You made cookies for me?”

“Yes,” Todoroki nods, “I wanted to say thank you.”

“It’s my job.”

“I still want to say thank you.”

“Next time,” you joke, not quite realizing what you’re saying until it has left your lips and your brain has caught on, “just bring me the Cookies you made. It’s the thought that counts.”

He stares at you with wide eyes for what feels like eternity before a soft pink blush blooms on his cheeks.

You hide your own face in the box of Cookies, hope that he won’t hear the thunderous beating of your heart over the noise of you eating one.

They’re delicious. Of course they are.

-

You don’t know how or when or even why, but clearly, there’s a friendship growing between you and Todoroki Shouto. He’s stopped claiming he’s only dropping in for new additions to his costumes and in turn you’ve tried quite a few of his food creations, each one of them worse than the last.

But he’s cute and honest and real about it and you couldn’t do better if you tried anyway.

Your pain, however, doesn’t stop just because you’ve found work you enjoy or friends to spend your time with.

There are days where you cannot get out of bed. Days where strong painkillers allow you to get to school only for everything to go past you because those painkillers leave you loopy and tired, falling asleep over some costume in the early afternoon hours.

At least you’re not in the Hero Course, you think on the worst days, because you’ve seen the bruises Training leaves on Shouto’s arms and legs.

That’s before you realize that Training is the least of all his problems.

-

Third Year

“How are you?” You ask, because what else do you ask your Crush Slash Good Friend you haven’t seen in months?

Shouto’s got new scars, he’s grown, and he’s fought in a war while you were bedridden from pain, your mother scared out of her depths that you’d die in an attack, unable to move.

But you survived and so did he and if you can believe what you’ve heard on the news, he’s found out some things about his family too.

“Tired,” he admits, dragging a hand through his hair, “I missed you.”

You wonder how hard it was for him to admit that. 

 “Think tank?” You ask, slipping off your chair when he nods.

The last few days have been painless and even though you’re anxious about what’s to come after that, you can’t help but enjoy it.

When the door closes after him, you realize just how small that cubicle really is. 

Or maybe it’s just that Shouto doesn’t step away like he used to do, staying so close to you that you could count every single one of his long lashes if you wanted to.

“Can I hug you?” He asks and you nod, unable to say anything, even less when he pulls you in.

He’s tall and strong, cool on one side and warm on the other and your face nuzzles into his neck like it was meant to be like that anyway.

You don’t speak for a while, just hold each other in the semi-privacy this room provides.

“I want to take care of you,” Shouto whispers at some point. “Can I?”

Somehow it doesn’t surprise anyone that you two end up dating.

-

Your third year is almost painless.

Sure, there are frequent days where you’re sore for no reason whatsoever, but that is nothing against the blinding pain that had tied you to a bed for weeks before. 

Sometimes, Shouto pouts about that. He thinks it’s his job as your boyfriend to look after you and what good is he for if you don’t need looking after?

His friends tell you that he’s less reckless now - as if he’d ever been - making sure to keep himself safe because you need him.

You’ve met his sister, one of his older brothers and his mother, all of them nice, though maybe a bit distanced. 

Emotional vulnerability doesn’t seem to come easy to them.

Shouto, however, likes to talk about his feelings in depth. And he wants to know how you’re feeling too, listening with wide eyes as you explain.

Should it be weird that you’re dating someone younger than you? If so, you’re doing it wrong. 

-

The first(?) hint

“Do we need anything from the store?” You ask, phone crammed between your ear and shoulder as you grab your stuff from the passenger seat.

“I was going to get the groceries,” Shouto huffs on the other side of the call and you can see it, how he pouts at the thought that you’re doing it instead of him.

“I was already on my way. You can do the laundry.”

“I hate doing the laundry,” he groans and you giggle. “I know. I’m going to help you with it, don’t worry.”

“I could cook,” he offers and you giggle again, opening the door to step out. “As much as I love you, Shouto, I don’t love your cooking.”

“Fine,” he says, sounding exactly like a child that didn’t get its way, “But we do face-masks while doing the laundry.”

“Of course. I’ll call you back later, okay? I need both hands for shopping.”

“Sure. I’ll buy you more headphones in the meantime.”

There are a few more teasing remarks, a last “I love you” and then you shove your phone back in your purse and turn to where you think the shopping carts are located.

You don’t see the step in front of you before it’s too late and then you’re tumbling through the air. It happens slowly and then all at once and you’re not really sure what hurt first and what hurts the most. 

For a moment you’re just lying there, face down on the pavement, trying not to puke, collecting your thoughts as if they scattered on your floor just like your open purse.

Your phone starts ringing and that seems the most manageable task so you pick it up from right in front of you and press it against your ear.

“Yes?” You ask.

“Love, are you okay?” Shouto sounds worried.

“No, I just tripped and fell,” you pick your head up from the asphalt and squint at your stuff in front of you, “in the middle of the parking lot.”

“Just after you hung up I felt a lot of pain and I just… I knew it was you.” 

-

It keeps happening after that.

It doesn’t help that you’re clumsy, but maybe that’s for the best now, as you try and figure out this weird coincidence.

If you hurt yourself, Shouto feels the pain.

If Shouto hurts himself, you feel the pain. 

It’s only after he almost gets buried by a collapsing building that you actually tell a Doctor. Or rather Midoriya unloads all the Data he has collected on the poor, unassuming Recovery Girl.

The most likely answer, as strange as it might sound, is the Soulmate Theory.

“Since you’re the first documented case in hundreds of years we don’t have anything to prove this theory. But I’m quite positive that more cases will follow.”

You blink back at her, not quite understanding. Shouto’s left hand, one of the few places of his that are not covered in bandages, squeezes yours.

“You know what that means, right?” He asks.

“Yeah. We’re most definitely never going to break up.”

His eyes widen in a way you’ve grown familiar with. No matter how long you’ve been dating, you still seem to be able to surprise him.

“No,” he presses out weakly, “I meant… That all the pain you went through as a child and teenager, that was me. It’s my fault.”

You lean down to press a kiss to the little spot above his eyebrows that has come away unscathed.

“I’m not saying it was nice, but if I could take at least a little bit of the pain you went through, I’d say it was worth it.”

-

You’re pretty sure Shouto would disagree, but in your eyes Soulmates are not quite as fancy as they’re made out to be.

After all, you found him on your own, didn’t you?

[eddiesxangel]

Baby Makes Three | older!Eddie Munson x PlusSize!Reader

2K request celebration

Requested by @alastorssimp

Summary: you and Eddie find out some very shocking news.

Cw: f!reader, unexpected pregnancy, age gap, older!Eddie, a reader in their late 20’s, a plus-size reader, Eddie is divorced, oral, protected and unprotected p in v, light choking, praise, happy ending. 3k words

An: Older!Eddie is the loml can’t believe we are having his baby 🤭

As the evening unfolds, you find yourself at a lively bar, celebrating your friend's farewell to her twenties. Although you've grown somewhat weary of late-night revelry, your friend insisted that you join her, believing that the celebration wouldn't be complete without you. As you step into the dimly lit bar, your gaze is immediately drawn to a captivating figure.

Amidst a group of older men, he sits on a bar stool, exuding an aura of distinctiveness. His cascading locks and adorned fingers, embellished with silver rings, capture your attention, except the finger where a wedding band would typically reside. Despite his smile, his deep brown eyes betray a hint of melancholy. In that moment, you feel an unwavering resolve to brighten his spirits.

As you observed him from across the room, you couldn't help but feel drawn to him. Although he didn't fit your usual preferences, there was something about him that intrigued you. He was an older man, rough around the edges, tall, dark, and handsome; what's not to like? The more you studied him, the more you estimated his age to be in his late 40s, perhaps 50.

Emboldened by a few drinks, you finally mustered the courage to approach him.

“Hi,” you smile.

“Hi,” you hear another handsome man turn to you, but he isn’t the one you were speaking to.

“I’m Y/N,” you reach your hand so he can shake it.

“Steve.” He smiles.

“Hi Steve, who’s your friend.” You turn to the man you’ve been eyeing all night.

“This here.” He pats his friend on the back, breaking him out of his conversation with another friend. " Is Eddie?” He smiles, and Eddie turns to his friend, confused as to why his name is being spoken.

“What?” He swallowed his beer.

“This is Y/N.” Steve smiles.

“Eddie.” He nods.

“What brings you here, Eddie?” Your voice is so sickly sweet, laced with desire.

“I don’t think you wanna know, Sugar.”

Normally, the name would deter you, but coming from him, it made your heart flutter.

“Try me?” You lean forward on the high-top table, emphasizing your breasts.

Eddie began to shy away, but Steve stepped in once again, “celebrating his divorce.” He claps Eddie’s back again. Clearly, they’ve been here a while.

“Oh well, that’s good news for me then.” You absentmindedly start to twirl your hair.

“And why’s that, Sweetheart?”

“Maybe you’ll find out later.” You wink and turn to go back to your friends.

“What was that?” Eddie was stunned.

“Dude, you gotta go after her! She was totally flirting with you.”

“Nah.” No way Eddie believed that… no way this sexy younger girl who looks like God's gift to earth wants to flirt with him.

“Um, yes, she wants you, man.”

“I could be her father.” Eddie scoffs.

“Hasn’t stopped me.” Steve laughs.

Eddie rolls his eyes at Steve. How would something as hot as you go for a guy like him?

“If you don’t, I will.”

Eddie eventually gave in to Steve’s nagging and found you twenty minutes later. He offered to buy you a drink, and you gladly accepted.

You “awe” when they tell you he’s newly single and touch his arm while giving him a fake pout. Your pink lipgloss captures the light, and Edie can't stop staring at your mouth.

Eddie tried so hard to keep eye contact, but your body was so full and voluptuous that he couldn’t help but scan you a time or two.

“You wanna get out of here?” You ask after you finish your second drink with him. Your friends are who knows where, and you’re so horny you think your pussy might just explode.

“Yea, yea, let’s um, go.” Eddie couldn't hold back his smile. He was buzzing he was so excited.

You rested your hand on his upper thigh on the short car ride back to his home. His other leg bounced in anticipation, trying not to get hard already. But the simplest touch from you had him realizing. Your manicured fingers looked so good resting on his leg like that.

He pulled up to his small three-bedroom bungalow, which was enough for him and his two kids, who he had with his ex.

It was seriously a bachelor pad. He was not expecting company, so the place was disorganized, but you didn’t care to notice because your lips were attached to his neck the second he closed the door.

“Holy shit” he lets slip because is this really happening? Yes it is.

“Oh baby,” You hear Eddie moan again as your hands slip up his thighs to where his hard-on is starting to take form.

“You should relax; let me help you,” you say, hooking your fingers under his leather jacket and pushing it off his shoulders. Your eyes widen when you see the vast number of tattoos covering every inch of his bare arms.

“You wanna help me relax, baby girl?”

“Mmmmm, I do. You deserve it after all you've been through.” You nod your head, giving him your best puppy dog eyes. God, you're laying it on thick.

Eddie smirks and brushes your loose hair behind your ear, sending a chill up your spine. You watch him lean down to take your lips on his. Needy, passionate kisses were shared before you broke away and found his neck.

“Let’s take this into the bedroom,” he says, pushing you back towards the hallway. You giggle as the man handles you.

Eddie still can’t believe this is happening, but he’s going to take advantage of every second of it. He watches your tiny skirt ride up as you walk towards his bedroom. He can’t help but grab a handful of it, and you squeak.

Finding more confidence in himself, he tosses you on the bed, and you land with a giggle. You’re not used to being so manhandled, but you liked it. Eddie was much stronger than he looked, which only turned you on more.

You watch him as he removes his shirt before he lunges towards you. He has you naked and on your knees for him within minutes of entering the bedroom.

Your nimble fingers unbuckle his belt as you kneel before him. He thinks he will cum right then and there. The image of you looking up at him, your tick thighs pressed together, trying so hard to create some sort of friction for yourself, is so fucking hot to him.

“Fuck you’re big” Your jaw hangs slack in shock as his hard cock springs from the confines of his pants.

“I’m sure you can take it.”

Challenge accepted.

Eddie hadn’t had sex in a very long time. No way he was last if you keep this up. He thinks you’re about to suck the soul out of his body as your hot, warm mouth envelops him wholly.

“Fuck baby girl, your mouth is so perfect, I can’t wait for your pussy.”

“I’m right here, yours for the taking,” you smirk up at him, reeling from the fact he hadn’t touched you yet.

He once again surprised you as his strong arms lifted you with ease to toss you onto the bed. He spreads your legs without a second thought and dives into your needy cunt.

“You’ve been hiding this from me?” His eyes roll back as he tastes you. You mewl as his mouth takes over all of your senses.

“I know, baby, you need me to fuck you, don't you?”

“Yes”

“Needy little thing, just need a man to take care of you?”

You nod your head as your fingers lace themselves through his chocolate waves.

“I promise I'm going to take care of you and make you feel good.” And he is making you feel so good.

His face between your legs feels like you've ascended into euphoria.

“Oh god!” You clench down as your orgasm washes through you.

“That’s a good girl.” He laps at your juices before he fumbles for the condoms he thankfully just bought. He quickly rips open the box as you come down from your high. Condoms are scattered across the bed, and Eddie hears you giggle at his eagerness, and it only makes him want you more.

Eddie has the condom on in seconds and is gliding himself through your wet folds before he pushes himself inside.

“Oh, Eddie!” You scream when he bottoms out.

Eddie lets himself close his eyes as his tounge traced your nipple. He hummed into your skin only sending more waves of pleasure through your body. His large hands squeezed your other breast as he sucked and flicked your nipple with this mouth. Teeth teases as his fingers played, nothing would stop him from having your perfect tits in his mouth and his cock buried deep inside you.

His hips are rocking into you so good, he’s pounding into you, you can’t think. You’re so fucking happy you chose to come home with him, never have you had sex this good. How did his wife give this up? You don’t know,; but you’re sure glad because you will get to experience him now.

“Eddie, please!” He loved hearing his name fall from your lips. He wasn’t even sure you remembered it; he’s having trouble remembering yours if he’s being honest, but he didn’t care. Your pussy was magic.

“Fuck baby girl, this pussy is so tight, so good” You feel his hand gently wrap around your throat, holding you in place as he watches your tits bounce with each thrust. His cock disappears between your plush thighs; he can’t get enough as your pussy is getting tighter and tighter. He can feel your orgasm creeping up on you. He needs you to cum before him; he is damned if he comes first.

“Come on baby girl, cum on my cock…. That’s it; you’re taking me so well. I knew your pussy would be so fucking good.” The praises falling from his lips have you clenching down on his cock, so hard Eddie thinks he sees stars.

Eddie can finally let go. His cum fills the condom as he continues to fuck into you until he’s satisfied.

Once you’ve both caught your breath, you get up to leave, Eddie feels sad when you start getting dressed, but you insist he gives you his phone band. Maybe you can do it again sometime.

When he saw the text from the unsaved number with your name attached, his stomach did a little summersault, and he didn’t think he would ever forget your name again.

It’s been weeks, and your and Eddie’s schedules have yet to coordinate. He had his kids on the weekends, and you’re always busy. You never give a reason; you’re just busy.

So when Eddie entered the restaurant to get his pick-up order, he was a little surprised when he saw you sitting at the booth with a guy. A guy who was about your age, with his arm wrapped around you.

Who even sits on the same side of the booth anyway?

He gave the host a fake smile as his skin started to crawl as he continued to watch the blonde hair blue eyed Chad-looking fucker lean in and whisper something in your ear that made you laugh.

So this is why you’re “busy.”

“Your food will be out in a minute, sir.” The hostess smiled and walked away.

This gave Eddie the opportunity to walk over.

“Fancy seeing you here, Sugar.” Eddie smiled, but you could tell by the look in his eyes it was not a happy one.

You almost choked on your drink as his deep baritone voice filled your ears.

“Eddie, um, hi.” You try and keep your cool.

No, you weren’t avoiding him. This date had been planned for weeks, and you didn’t have the heart to cancel.

“Hey man,” the douche nods to Eddie, and he can’t help but roll his eyes. How on earth did his girl go for this chump?

Eddie completely ignored him.

“Who’s this baby?” Your date turns to you. “Your dad or something?”

You almost choked again, and Eddie sneered as the smug look graced your date's face.

“Can you give us a minute?” You turn to him.

“I don’t think— "

"Listen to the lady." Eddie glared, and he looked so hot while doing it.

"I'll give you ten minutes."

"I’m sure that's the longest you'd ever need," Eddie mumbled under his breath, and you giggled.

Eddie stuck out his hand, and you take it, and he leads you around the corner to the alcove by the bathrooms.

“So….” You start awkwardly.

“I see why you’re always busy. If you have a boyfriend just tell me I’ll stop waisting my time.” He scoffs.

“Hes not my boyfriend.”

“But that’s your type, huh? Thought you wanted a more mature man? Someone rough around the edges, someone who knows how to please you” He raises his brows.

“I-I mean…”

“What is it, baby girl? He fuck you as good as I did?” He tucks a price of loose hair behind your ear. “I don’t think so.”

“How dare you!”

“You need to be reminded?”

The way your pussy clenched as his tone was a betrayal of your own. You missed his touch, but he was being such as asshole you didn’t want to give in.

“Fuck you”

“Gladly,” he leaned in and kissed you deeply.

You let a moan slip, and you feel Eddie smirk against you.

Eddie dragged you into the bathroom and locked the door behind him.

“Eddie,” you moan, completely forgetting you were on a date with another man.

Eddie can’t get enough of you; he’s been thinking about you every moment of every day since that first night you hooked up, and hearing your name slip past your lips only makes this moment all that much sweeter for him.

“Need this tight pussy to remember who she belongs to.” He flips you towards the sink so you face the mirror. You watch intently as his hands wrap around your waist to unbutton your pants and pull them down. “Need to remind you who made you cum so hard you were begging for more.”

You couldn’t form words, only needy mewls left your throat as you wiggle your bare ass at him before his fingers run up your already wet slit. It didn’t take much for you to get ready when Eddie was around.

“So wet f’me already”

“Only you.”

“Yea, only me? Not that Ken doll out there?”

“No, Eddie, you! Only you!”

“That’s right, baby girl. You’re mine, pretty.”

You hear the jingle of his belt, and soon after, his hard tip brushes through your folds.

“Eyes on me,” he guides your chin to keep looking at him through the mirror as he plunges inside of you.

Your mouth falls slack as he fucks into you; his hand moves lower, holding your throat in place as each brush of his cock feels so deep inside of you.

His grip on your hip is tight, his hand slinks down from your throat to your breasts, and he squeezes it over and over again.

“Can’t get enough of you, pussy is like a fuckin drug.”

“So big,” you slur. His cock brushing that sport so deep inside you your body is shaking with pleasure.

Your orgasm hits you quickly, and Eddie is coming shortly after.

You feel a light smack on your bare ass before he helps pull your panties back up.

“Holy shit” you try and catch your breath.

“Now, you’ll only be thinking of me dripping down your leg while you finish this date.” He gives your ass another squeeze before slipping out the door without another word.

You take a minute to catch your breath and exit the bathroom to see Eddie, with a takeout bag, heading out the door. You say a quick goodbye to your date, making up some lame excuse about not feeling well and chase after Eddie while he still leaks out of you.

A one-night stand turned into running into him while on another date, and he fucked you in the bathroom so good you ditched your date, and now you’ve been hooking up ever since.

You didn’t speak to one another about what you were, but after that day in the bathroom, you knew you didn’t want to be with anyone else. It was understood after he ran into you on a date - you would be committed to one another only.

You liked Eddie, and yes, he was older by about seventeen years, but he treated you well. He always made sure to take care of you and look after your needs, and when you were both finished, he always wanted to talk and cuddle.

You knew you wanted more with him, to go out with him, to be with him, but you were too scared to overstep. He had just gotten out of a poor relationship a month and a half ago, but your feelings for him started blooming, and you couldn't stop.

You’re falling quick and hard for Eddie and that’s scary. It’s so new and what if a baby is added to the equation? That could end things in an instant. Dread was the only thing to fill your mind as your mind spiralled.

Your phone startles you out of your thoughts, and you answer it right away, don't even see who it is on the other end.

"Hey, baby girl. You getting ready to go out?"

Tonight, you were to go out with your friends to dance. You loved having a drink and some good music, but as you were getting ready, a wave of nausea hit, and you knew that wasn't a good sign.

You were late. It's been a little over two weeks late, but you're scared to take a test. No way you wanted this to be real. You had been so careful.

"No, um, actually. I'm not feeling well." You try and swallow the lump in your throat. You don't need to worry about the unknown.

"Oh baby, do you need some soup? I can pick you up some and bring it over."

“No, no I just — Oh god, the bathroom!”

It hit you; you didn’t use a condom that time.

"You wanna hang up to do that or…?"

"No, Eddie, no I need you to get something for me."

"Whatever you need."

You pace back and forth as the longest 3 minutes of your life pass by.

Eddie couldn't believe you were asking him to get you a pregnancy test at nine-thirty on a Saturday night, but here he was, anxiously waiting.

Eddie loved being a dad, and he would be thrilled to have another baby, especially with you. Sure, the relationship was newer, but he knew in his soul how good of a person you were and how good of a mom you would be.

Fantasies of you and your swollen belly played in repeated in his head until he heard you gasp. He sees your face, and you're in shock, unable to move beside your shaking hand. Holding the test, he sees the blue plus symbol clear as day.

"Your boy has still got it!" He grabs the test from your hand and makes a fist pump in the air.

"Eddie!"

"What?"

"Aren't you scared?" Tears formed in your eyes. Would you be ready? Would you be a good mother? Would he want to leave, and you would be stuck being a single mom?

"No, because I know you'll be an awesome mom. I can't imagine a more perfect woman to have my baby." He leaned in to kiss you, and a tear fell down your cheek.

My baby. Something g you and Eddie made together.

"I'm going to be a mom." Eddie's words start to make you feel better, and you start to smile.

"You're going to be the sexiest mom." He wiggles his brows suggestively.

"Eddie!"

"And the kindest, most caring, thoughtful mom to ever exist. This baby will be so loved."

"So loved," You repeat.

Tagging some mooties (feel free to ignore): @paybacksawitch @xxbimbobunnyxx @strangerstilinski @taintedcigs @munson-blurbs @littlexdeaths @onegirlmanytales

[skyrigel]

Victory indeed || A.B

Pairing: Anthony bridgerton x wife!reader

Plot : You are on your way to steal the mallet of death but Anthony gets there first, change in plans— romancing lord Viscount.

Warning: NSFW content ahead!

Rigel's note🪩 : This is inspired from happily ever after, there's quite blood shed for mallet of death. Yeah Colin is love <3

Words: 2.1k Proofread

Anthony bridgerton angst

The last bits of doubt left as you shifted Anthony's arm off your waist, slowly pushing your body down and further till you were out from his grip, he almost looked innocent, sleeping and bed soft, his mouth curled in a dream like smile but you knew better than that. last time Anthony, like lord Viscount he was, stole the pallet from your wardrobe.

And the year prior, Daphne showed her Bridgerton colors, involving the Duke himself in her malice plans.

You couldn't help but smile, thinking your bridgerton were showing up too, the floor was frozen underneath your step but you thought about the victory tommorow, the look on Anthony's face would be priceless, wrapping your cloak around yourself and closing the door soundlessly as you ventured out in the corridor, the moon was high and the air was chill. If inside the Aubrey hall was cold then you weren't up for the chill outside, a shiver ran down your spine as you stepped out in the moonlight, taking the back route, just in case. The shed stood there in the bleak light. You fiddled for keys and it didn't make sense when the wooden door was unlocked, maybe Johnny forgot to lock it, anyway, all more easy. The door creaked in the silence and you couldn't care less, there was nothing between you and your victory black mallet and—

Your breath was knocked out of you as if your lungs were punctured, a gasp of white mist left your mouth at the sight of your husband, leaning idly against the wall.

" I... Anthony?! " You blinked and unblinked and he was still there, smiling.

" What are you doing here wifey ? " He cooed and it didn't help the terror that seized you.

" You knew ! " You hoped it wasn't as shaking like it felt in your throat, Anthony ran a hand through his hair and it all made sense, damn his dreamlike smile, damn you lord Viscount.

" You wound me baby, do you want me to tie you until the game tommorow, tell me, would you like that ? " He smiled all the while, faking a frown as he narrowed his eyes to your silhouette in dark.

" So you would guard the mallet all night ? " You wouldn't let Anthony win this time, it was coming on your pride now, also the love making that followed where he called you all those petty names. The last he called you runner up. No, you would win this time.

" Or I could tie you up, I like that better." Anthony suggested smugly, propping on top of the desk and flashing an erotic display of thigh, change of plans.

" My lord..." You whsipered, all seduction placed in one basket and all smugness was dropped when Anthony's lips parted.

" Do.not." he shuddered but you hit the nerve, moving slowly in your shaking steps, cloak dangling behind you.

" Anthony, these games are absurd. " You stiffled the laugh that burnt your chest, heart heaving and thudding inside your ribs.

It almost didn't work the last time you caught him stealing the mallet, Mrs.Wilson came at a very wrong time.

" It's not working." He assured, to himself mostly but his hand reached for your body all the same, betraying every word he said as he pulled you closer, face mere inches away.

He wrapped his big arms around your waist and cocked your head sideways.

" What about..." You paused, bumping your nose to his cheeks as he sniffed the moon shadow out of you, his lips tried to claim yours but you liked playing games. The ones you could win.

" About what ? " He asked breathless, his long slender fingers undoing the knot in frantic rushed movements. It was no use.

" I was thinking about...we don't have a daughter." You hoped nothing was drowned in the moan that left when Anthony bit at the junction of your neck and shoulder, he looked up with a glint, it was the most sincere set of eyes you had ever seen, also the lustiest.

Anthony could do both, have you screaming his name and worship you all the same.

" Take the mallet...take everything baby. " He kissed you, hard and crashing, like he couldn't get enough, you couldn't get enough and it became too restless for games and victory. Your body oozed with goosebumps and every single thought evaporated like mist and memories.

Anthony dropped the knot and pulled the cloak up from your head and you easily gave in, throwing your hands up as the satin fabric fell on the floor. Anthony hummed in desire.

You felt the cold air circling your body but as soon as Anthony's mouth kissed the exposed skin of you breast, it was gone, nothing mattered than him and his filthy demanding mouth.

" How beautiful you would look with our baby in your belly." He whispered against your skin and you shivered at the sensation.

His palm gripped your hips and lifted you on the desk, turning the dynamics and you cursed under your breath when his unholy fingers pinched your nipple, hard and raw.

" You like that ? " He breathed, undoing buttons of your nightdress like he was made for it, he was merciless sometimes, taking pleasure when you screamed his name and teasing you later, " so needy for me baby ? "

" An.. Anthony." You hoped he heard the plea, his thumb made circles in your inner thigh but never touching where you wanted him the most, " baby.." you buried your face in the crook of his neck and even so, you could hear the smile that crossed him, cocky and devilish.

" Say it wifey, say it nicely with your sweet mouth." He grabbed the back of your neck and pulled you back to face him, eyes locked as his head leaned down, his darted his tongue, pink and wet, the wonders he could did with that, he licked your one nipple while the other was tucked between his two fingers, pressing them together and you screamed, almost embarrassed but Anthony liked that, he always did.

" What's the word ? " He looked up smugly, pressing the tip of his nose to your nip, a smile quirking up. Fuck you Anthony!

Your brain short circuited as he tickled more and more and it became too much to bear.

" Plea... please baby, please, please —" he heard the plea and his mouth opened, taking in your soft flesh and humming in delight, kneading the other so it didn't miss his attention. He wasn't biased when it came to your body, giving everything his full attention and torment. You threw your head back at the sensation that vibratated in your body.

You grabbed his hand that glided on your bare thigh to guide him to touch you where you needed him the most, his teeth nibbed, not harder but enough to make your eyes watery as he slapped your hand away.

" You get the mallet, I get what I want, win win Viscountess." He kissed your cheek open mouthed and his desire was pressing hard against you.

" Fuck me." You said, flushed and dazed and Anthony eye's widened before he was back to play all lord and smug.

" You always order me so." He bit his lower lip but you had enough, fuck pall mall, fuck Anthony bridgerton, yes fuck him. Now.

" Fuck me Anthony! " You almost cried, Anthony leaned further, his forehead touching yours as he whispered,

" I wouldn't be able to sto—" don't stop, then.

You kissed him hard and soft, like fireworks wrecking your brain and you tongue traced his lower lip, intoxication wasted you.

He moaned and a strangled noise that you trapped in your mouth escaped, right from his throat.

His length was pressed against your thigh and it was warm and vibrating. You swallowed like a Virgin damsel.

Anthony looked at you, not breaking the fire that was blazing between your souls as he pulled it out his erection and there, angry red tip, sticky with pre cum was buzzing to be touched and loved and he looked up in delight when your eyes widened, all of the times, it didn't matter, it baffled you just the same.

You touched the tip and he shivered at the contact, his cock gave a twist and lurked fir more.

" Do you see ? " He was panting, shaking with his words as if he would fall if he didn't hold his breath, " see it ?! How much I burn for you, how much I want you ? " He shaked his head and touched his tip to your belly, soft and burning.

" No." He laughed humourlessly, his hand pushing your body to lie down on your back and you followed, taking a huge breath as Anthony grabbed your dangling ankle in a yank, bringing it around his neck.

He then kissed your knuckles softly, whsipering sweet nothings tenderly in your bones.

" I would give you anything my sweet love, you just have to ask...mallet ? I would give you my soul if you had asked. Anything for my baby love " He said, you felt your body tremor as he teased his tip at your insides, Anthony inhaled sharply as he entered you, warm and slick as oil. he entwined your fingers together.

" So good...so good for me baby." He moaned as he soft thrusted once, twice and until you were numb for anything, his words were halo in the dark, beaming silvery glow and then came one hard push and you arched your back as the pain waved in pleasure.

" Anthony..." You moaned, " oh god ! " Your words mingled in blasphemy and Anthony smiled in victory, pushing harder and harder as your hips rocked and roll.

" Say my name...say it." He demanded, your nails gripping at his shoulder so hard that it would scar, he liked it.

" Anthony...oh lord... Anthony." You screamed and chanted and you believed he heard the worship, the fate you had in him, and it didn't matter if anyone listened, let them, you thought, Anthony was a force to be reckoned with, a storm you never minded to be wrecked in. A beak of sweat glided from his forehead and dropped on your belly.

He was still pushing in a angle that had you seeing stars and cosmic love, he bend down, licking it, tongue gliding across your skin, and sniffing, taking in everything your offered.

He wanted all of you.

" I will fill you up with our baby, next time don't go hunting for mallet in midnight...it's so cold Darling, i would have to tie you up," He kissed your stomach bump, " and would carry you around everywhere." He said in dreamily haze that soon took over your lids.

The only sounds were erotic slapping of skin against skin and shuddering breaths, and he fastened his movements as a war cry took him over like a devil.

You head was thrown back as everything collapsed and grew again, bit by bit. Your eyelids drooped and a muffled cry came from you and then it was Anthony as he came in warm fizzy juice. Your felt the knot inside you uncoil and something loose inside you, uncorked as your juices mingled like your souls.

He pushed one more time, he always did that and then he collapsed next to you, satisfied, kissing your already bruised neck sweetly.

" Wouldn't you like that mama ? " He chorused and you laughed like a drunk, you would, a daughter with Anthony's eyes and smile, you smiled at the thought.

" Let's clean you up and take you to bed my lady." Anthony picked you, kissing you again as you giggled, he then grabbed the cloak and covered your body against the cold, you were dazed but not quite forgotten, you eyes searched for the war prize. Your mouth fell open, second time in a very same night.

" Where's the mallet ? " You narrowed your eyes at the stock of pink and blue and yellow but the black wasn't there, perhaps a trick of light.

Anthony followed your eyes and went closer, your arms wrapped around his shoulder and there, beneath the shadows was a parchment, rich and fresh.

Anthony picked it up with one hand, the other keeping you steady in his arms.

You saw the lanky words that belonged to none other than Mr. Bridgerton.

" Damn you Colin! " You growled as the mockful apology was scribbled for stealing the black mallet.

Anthony perched his lips at the heist but smiled when your whining eyes met his.

" I am going to whoop his ass and get you the mallet baby." He said, and you knew he will.

Victory indeed.

_________________________________________

Uhm Benedict bridgerton next ? Send in request ladies <3

[starrywilliams]

guilty as sin? | abby anderson

“these fatal fantasies giving way to labored breath, taking all of me, we’ve already done it in my head”

warnings: masturbation, slight masochism, ruined orgasm, angst, perv!abby (a little), internalized homophobia (discussed in more detail below)

notes: no surprise my favourite ttpd song is the gayest one on the album, but guilty as sin? screams lesbian guilt i fear!!!! i’ve been writing this for over a month so i hope u guys like it 😭

cw: discussion of lesbian guilt & comphet - these are somewhat based on my own experiences with my sexuality and i absolutely!!! do not think a man can ‘cure’ a lesbian or anything similar to that. nor do i believe anyone should ever feel guilty for being gay. realising i’m a lesbian has been extremely freeing & dykes r the best x

wc: 1.8k

likes, comments + reblogs are greatly appreciated :)

the door slammed harshly behind abby as she stormed into her room. she pulled her jacket off desperately; her skin hot under its tight vice. she’d been in the gym, trying to work out her endless frustration of late, when you’d walked in.

you’d only said “hi" and smiled politely at her before setting your things down. but she felt her stomach churn, a black hole opening inside her. abby stood up, pulling the weights off the barbell and onto their rack. she grunted softly, glancing at you from the corner of her eye.

you’d started stretching, currently bent over as you touched your toes. her eyes drifted for an infinitesimal moment, locking onto the swell of your-. she looked away - wrongwrongwrong.

but then she looked back, her stare feasting on your body. she wondered whether you were doing this on purpose, trying to tempt her from across the room. she wondered if you knew her dirty little secret, abby picturing a smirk on your face as you mocked her for such indecent thoughts.

she didn’t want to feel this way. she didn’t want to feel the poison ivy swarming around her chest, getting tighter, tighter. the rash spread inside her; this invisible whip of lust lashing against her skin whenever your face appeared in her mind. well, had it been just your face maybe she wouldn’t feel like some depraved sinner.

now it wasn’t like abby believed in god, in a world where death and destruction infect every crevice you’d have to be mad to believe that any ‘god’ wanted its followers to suffer so greatly. but something inside her screamed every time she had these thoughts. these impure, twisted thoughts about you.

she didn’t know what made her feel like this. what made her resent you for simply existing; and what made her resent herself.

she recalled her teenage years, when manny had subtly suggested that owen liked her - so she was supposed to like him back, right? and she tried! she loved him even - but there was always that something, that feeling in her gut that told her that something was wrong, something about him that just would never sit right with her.

but all the other girls wanted a boyfriend too, and the jealousy was nice at first - she’d thought. after all, mel was the star student, a doctor in the making, her dad’s favourite; and nora was this freshly trained medical officer, and abby was- abby was just abby.

her dad began noticing her more too - previously too preoccupied with his firefly duties and his favourite student. now his little girl was slipping away from him, he finally began paying her the amount of attention she’d craved for so long.

before, their conversations had often drifted into talk of mel and her new achievements, or his hopes of a vaccine, or some animal he was tracking. never anything about his daughter’s life.

having a boyfriend made her interesting, it gave the other girls something to envy. which was a nice reversal, for a while. then her dad died, and she had become this object of pity. owen helped a bit, she supposed. he tried to distract her and keep her focused on their new role as soldiers, but she barely cared about him anymore. all she wanted was revenge, and with revenge, came you.

you were one of the gyms trainers, passionate about helping the members of the wlf stay fit and healthy! you’d helped her start lifting weights, squealed as she reached every milestone, and had remarked jokingly about just how much you loved her new physique.

it was innocent at first, the most being her brain going a little fuzzy when you’d bit your lip while spotting her; a slight blush when you’d hugged her a little too tight. then, once she and owen were finally broken up, these new pictures began hanging themselves on the walls of her mind. still, innocent, just slightly tainted with desire - the true nature of them still an avoidable matter for her back then.

when she could ignore the truth in her recent behaviour, abby loved spending time with you. after all, you were just really good friends! anyway, she’d had a boyfriend before so everyone knew she was normal, and absolutely not different, and she would never ever have to feel like an outsider.

yet it took a mere three months before she gave up on this foolish lie. she liked you, and as long as nobody ever found out, it wouldn’t matter.

but as her mind grew dark and twisted - joel a constant topic in her head as she obsessed over finally getting to enact revenge - her thoughts got worse in turn. she wanted you - filthily and desperately.

every gym session ended with another cold shower, a desperate plea for her body to stop and let her focus on the task at hand; a hopeless attempt to bury this ache into the ground; an endless endeavour to escape these urges for just one second.

but then she came back changed, every hair on her body endlessly erected with guilt. the way she’d killed him so mercilessly, the way it had done nothing to ease the pain, and the way you had tormented her mind ceaselessly throughout the entire trip.

maybe, had she never met you, she could’ve just killed him and been satisfied. maybe had you never offered to train her personally, she could’ve just stayed comfortable in that stuffy closet. maybe if she found the right man she’d stop feeling this way.

abby deemed such ideas unfathomable now.

owen made her feel nothing. being with him was like an eternal thursday, an endless wait for the week’s end and its pleasure to turn up at her door. every day she’d wait for some spark to arrive, the routine only becoming more and more tedious by the minute. but he helped her get people’s attention, which was enough when she was just abby.

but then she was abby anderson, top scar killer and isaac’s favourite. she got attention on her own, she was praised for her own accomplishments: people worshipped the fucking ground she walked on. but they didn’t know who she really was.

they didn’t know she liked girls the way she was supposed to like boys. she’d seen it in enough of those wlf movie nights - cruel jokes about anyone who even thought about being different. she’d heard the way people gossiped, “did you hear that they’re moving lesbians into the family unit? what a joke.”

they said it like it was something dirty, something egregious, something that she had to hate about herself. so she did.

but as long as she kept it secret, kept it locked away in her mind, maybe she’d be okay. after all, only your actions talk: it was the age old question really, if a tree falls in a forest and no one else hears it, does it make a sound?

abby fell back against her bed sheets, calloused hands pushing her cargos down to her ankles as she replayed the sight of you in her mind. bent over - she felt like you were trying to tempt her on purpose.

she felt like a heathen; staring, fantasizing, worshipping. her mind was bursting with the idea of every possible position she could put you in; head a chorus of every little noise she wanted to hear you make; eyes screwed shut as depravity filled her every sense.

she shoved her bralette up her chest roughly, fingertips dragging over her nipples with little mercy. she pinched them, the peach skin stinging underneath her touch.

she wanted it to hurt; wanted it to feel like some sort of punishment for her thoughts. but as her hips bucked into the air, a long whine dragging from her clenched jaw, she realised it needed to hurt more.

she imagined you, finding her like this. disgust burnt into your features - what the fuck was she doing? repeating your name like some subverted prayer, fingers harshly scratching along her stomach as she tried to make the pleasure feel more like pain, trying to induce some connection between the two.

if it hurt enough, would she stop? force herself to forget? could she torture this part of herself until it surrendered?

her hand slipped over the top of her boxers, a finger running tentatively over her clit through the now darkened fabric. she bit down on her lip, groaning against it as she pushed down harder and harder, attempting to break through the skin.

another finger pressed down, beginning to draw circles down on the throbbing bud. she jolted against her own touch, your head between her legs burning into her mind. your hands, trailing along her flesh - groping at her with little tenderness; tongue, swiping at her pussy with no intent of fulfillment: she wanted you to make her weep, smoke out her lungs with shame, deny her from gratification until all she could feel was regret.

she pulled away, only to cover her fingertips with her spit - diving under her boxers to continue with her corruption. abby let out a strangled sigh, hips grinding against her fingers as they toyed with her clit.

she moved a hand to her hair, knuckles stretching against her scalp as she began to pull her braid. she grunted, yanking even harder. she whispered your name: pained, hopeless.

she sped up her assault against her pussy, feeling that pit in the bottom of her stomach begin to grow. “pleasepleaseplease” her voice cracked as she begged, unsure what she was pleading for.

she wanted to stop, but she needed to try and make this feeling go away. she knew it would come back, it always did - but even five minutes free from your torment on her mind might save her.

her fingers kept going, drawing desperate circles against her weeping pussy relentlessly. the void was growing, almost consuming her entirely at this point. she thought of you laughing at her current state: a crying mess, pussy wet with perversion.

it was sick, really - how the idea of you hating her for this made her need even worse. you’d probably think it appalling: someone who was supposed to be your friend, now sat here burning at the thought of you.

a part of her wished that you shared this sickness. that you too let yourself be overwhelmed by the thought of sin. maybe you didn’t let the guilt swallow you whole - she hoped so.

but there was no point lingering in the what-ifs, they were far too fleeting.

her deft fingers quickened their pace, the ache all consuming. the climb began - a desperate jump towards oblivion. closer, closer. the flames scorched her bedsheets as her breathing hastened.

fuck, she hissed before reaching the apex with a scream of your name. a scream? a whisper? a thought? it didn’t make her actions any less deplorable.

her conscience grabbed pleasure by the throat as she ripped her fingers away, putting out the blaze on her hips like a cigarette crushed on the ground.

the desire imploded within the walls of her torso; scratching against her insides in the vengeance of her denial.

it was wrong; she had to stop it. yet still, the guilt poured into her lungs with no chance of resolve. she was a fool for thinking it would fix her. maybe next time it would work. maybe next time the exorcism would finally purify her.

until next time.

[myojinn]

You'll Be Safe Here // 2 - Sukuna Ryomen

You'll Be Safe Here ... Part of Cursed Spirit!Reader Series Heian Era!Sukuna Ryomen (JJK) x Cursed Spirit!Reader tags: SO MUCH FLUFF, soft 'Kuna, comfort summary: After seeing you on the brink of death—there was no way you were getting out of his clutches now. How will he protect you if you aren't by his side? a/n: Since the first part got a lot of love, I decided to make a part 2! I'm also thinking about making it a Cursed Spirit!Reader Series, so like full on one shots and drabbles here and there.

First Part | masterlist soon hehe

All he could see was red.

And all he could hear was the agonizing screams for help of those he terrorized. But nothing else really mattered to Sukuna Ryomen after he saw you on the brink of death.

He'd like to believe that he was a level-headed individual—never one to be consumed by trivial things such as emotions. But he knew, at that time, he was driven by pure unadulterated anger...

... anger at the good-for-nothing scum that hurt you.

He never thought he could feel this strongly about anything. But then again, meeting you had opened up his eyes to unpredictable things. And maybe that's why he lo-

"Ryo! Hey!" He let out an annoyed grunt at the disturbance currently seated to his right... on his bed... in his sacred chambers.

"For a woman who almost died you surely are loud," he grumbles. He crosses all 4 arms and turns to look away, closing his eyes once more. He made it clear he wanted peace. But having you around made it impossible. You poked his cheek repeatedly. "Thanks to your reverse cursed technique, I think I can go back to my temple today." He swatted your hand away from his face to which you (convincingly) yelped out in pain. His eyes have never opened so quickly as they did now. A look of concern washed over his face while you (convincingly) pretended to be hurt.

He was about to take your hand to inspect it—heal it even. But before he could do anything, you laughed in his face. The soft gaze transformed into an intense glare. "Oh man... you really do care for me, don't you, Ryo?"

He folded his arms again as he grumbled to himself. You knew just how to piss him off. But even though he seemed irritated, deep down he was glad that you were back to your normal self.

He was fucking relieved to have you by his side again.

His silence piqued your curiosity. Normally, he'd have a quip for every move you made. But he just sat there, arms crossed and taking in every effort you made to rile him up.

You huffed your chest out.

Truthfully, the whole temple raid fiasco already put a massive dent in your ego... and maybe your image in Sukuna's mind. That's what you thought at least. So you made it a point to act as if nothing happened. You weren't planning to soften up and thank him for helping you.

Hell, you don't even remember the last time you uttered an expression of gratefulness.

But he also made you do things you usually would not do.

"Ryo... I'm sorry." He sighs and looks at you. You couldn't tell what he was thinking. Well, you could never tell what the great Sukuna Ryomen was thinking... ever. But your gut told you that this moment was different.

Something had definitely changed within him.

"You don't have to apologize. I've dealt with your craziness for decades now," he says flatly. You slowly shook your head. "I mean... I'm sorry I couldn't protect myself and you had to clean up after my mess." He sighed even louder. He always did that whenever you said something "stupid" as he'd call it. "I told you that it doesn't matter. I am the strongest, aren't I? You should only worry about losing if you were in my position. Say 'thank you' and move on with it." Of course, he didn't exactly mean for that to be affectionate. It was coming from a place of arrogance. But, nevertheless, it made you smile.

"Thanks, Ryo. I owe you big time." He raises an eyebrow, a faint smirk forming on his face. "You owe me, yes." You meant it as a way to emphasize your gratitude, but you didn't really think he'd bank on it. After all, the strongest sorcerer never needed favors from you. He always said you'd come in handy one of these days and maybe today was finally it. "Eh? So... what do you want me to do? I'll do anything just don't take the statue in front of my temple. Do you know how difficult it was to steal that?" His face contorted in confusion. No one in history had ever made him do that face, but you. However, you weren't sure if you should be glad about that fact. But you were sure that you loved that statue to bits. Sure, it was weird, but that's why you love it!

"Don't be ridiculous. I don't want that ugly thing near me." "Hey! I'll have you know it's a significant part of my temple."

"Significantly ugly, yes."

You were about to retort when he placed a finger on your lips, shutting you up. "As I was saying, you owe me—and you can repay me by simply staying here at my temple." You wanted to speak, but he pressed his finger on your plump lips even harder. "And no, you can't refuse." He finally drops his hand. "I can't just leave my temple like that. It was trashed and-" "I have already sent servants to clean it up and restore it." "What about my offerings? What if someone comes up and asks something from me and-" "I also have separate servants stationed there to gather any messages, offerings, whatever—and relay them to you."

"Wha-" He groans in frustration. "Woman, I have taken care of everything if that's what you're worried about. Give it a rest, will you?" You were hesitant at first, but the look of worry on your face quickly changed into a mischievous smile that he (loved) dreaded to see. "My, my, Ryo... if you wanted me to move in so badly you could've just told me. Goodness, was this part of your elaborate plan? Sending sorcerers to attack me so I can live with you?" This ridiculous humor wasn't new to the both of you. He had heard insane things come out of your mouth and he would never bat an eyelid. But after joking about him possibly indirectly hurting you evoked a sickening feeling deep in the pits of his stomach.

"I would never hurt you," he said softly.

The devilish grin on your face was wiped clean and replaced with an apologetic smile. "I know... I just... I was kidding, you know?" "Joke about anything, but not about me hurting you." Thinking about others hurting you was enough to make him feel sick. But you suffering at his own hands? It made him angry. He realized he had gone silent and that you were just staring at him with that same smile from earlier. "What?" he asked coldly.

"You're a strange man. You act so gruff, but you say things like this?" she laughs. "That's why I love ya." He was proud to say that he had never encountered an attack before that would surprise him. But the words you just spoke had taken him aback. He was shook to the core. "Shut up... you're staying here. Got it?" "Heh... say that you love me too first~"

You were annoying, reckless, and incredibly childish at times. You pissed him off beyond belief. But he couldn't imagine his life without all of your insanity. He loved you... maybe. He still didn't know exactly what 'love' meant. But whatever it is that he felt for you... he'd do anything and everything if it meant keeping you by his side.

[lookingfxryou]

“I could just stare at you forever.”

“Creep.” Came Giyuu’s reply to your flirtation which only made you sigh dramatically.

“Come on! That was a good one! Didn’t you feel your heart skip a beat?” You weren’t one to back down so easily though.

You had befriended the Water Hashira after much efforts and stubbornness from your side, until the poor man had finally relented and did you the honor of replying to your questions.

Lately though, much to Giyuu’s annoyance, you had started flirting with him. (I’m not flirting with you! I’m just trying to make you blush. Don’t think so highly of yourself.”)

And he would rather die before admitting that your one liners, indeed, had some kind of effect on him. You couldn’t really tell though, with the way he always gave you a deadpan expression and a scathing retort. God, he hoped you did not know, he wouldn’t be able to live with himself.

(Why does he think that, though?)

“The only thing I felt was wanting to reach home faster.”

You pouted and walked a few steps ahead of him, turning back to look at him and walking backwards.

“One of these days, I’ll make you blush so hard that you’ll have a nosebleed.”

That unwillingly pulled out a smile from him which had you beaming. Now that he looked at you, you were really beautiful. Sure you were one of the strongest slayers and had prevailed against a lot of deadly opponents, but there was something about your smile, the way it had your eyes crinkling, that gave him pause. Made him think of you in a totally different way.

Shaking his head, your conversation stopped as you reached his house. You wasted no time in going ahead and calling out for Tanjiro and Nezuko.

(What even were they doing in his home, he had no clue anymore. Something about being in the most quiet and inconspicuous place. As if there was anything inconspicuous about those two.)

“Don’t you have to go home?” He called out making his way inside and you stopped before furrowing your brows at him.

“Don’t steal my babies from me.”

He just sighed and went ahead to his room. God, you were infuriating, had no sense of personal space, kept talking to him–

“Did he come around then?” He could hear Tanjiro’s voice, dull since they were probably farther from his private quarters, but his nonetheless.

He could hear you giggles.

“You are too optimistic, Tanjiro. He still thinks I’m just trying to make him blush.”

A pause.

“Which is true, I suppose, but he doesn’t really take my words seriously.”

“Why don’t you just tell him that you like him?”

Giyuu felt his breath hitch at Tanjiro’s words. There was no way that you liked him. The antisocial, rude, idiotic him.

“And risk him completely shutting down on me, and everyone else? No, I can be patient. Besides I got him to smile today!”

He could hear Tanjiro’s exclamations but his heart was beating so fast that he couldn’t even think properly. Did you really–? But you could choose anyone else–? Why him?

Your voice turned lower, more serious and Giyuu had to strain his ears to hear your next words.

“He’s one of the kindest people I know, Tanjiro. And maybe he doesn’t see it himself but I do. I see the way he is with strangers, helping silently, not asking for anything. I see him with you and Nezuko and how much he cares, even if he doesn’t show it. He deserves so much more and I hope he will get it someday. Until then, I’ll be his friend and stay by his side.”

This was not happening, no, no, no. He could feel it, his skin getting clammy, heart beating fast and the heating of his face.

You thought this much about him?

Your conversation turned to other topics after that and Giyuu moved away to go outside where the cool air caressed his warm, blushing cheeks.

You would never let him live it down if you saw him like this.

Well, since you came all this way to his home, he supposed it was only natural to ask you to have lunch together.

Along with Tanjiro and Nezuko, of course!

Just a normal lunch with friends.