#anyways just remember that finding love that you deserve and wish for is possible

[ethereal-engene]

Just a gentle reminder that you are indeed worth receiving good and sweet love <3

[luveline]

So your drunk reader and Spencer fic? Maybe one with Hotch but reader has had something important going on and had called Hotch previously over it, but this was just a super sappy drunk call during an important case but Hotch can never not answer if he technically can talk for just a moment?

thank u for ur request! fem!reader

"I just can't understand how he can be two places at once," Derek says, infuriated. 

Hotch has a thousand possibilities racing through his head. "He can't be," he says, "so we have to work out what else is happening."

"It's him," Emily says. "Same clothes, same face. And it can't be an evil twin–" 

JJ groans, rubbing her eye with the heel of her hand and leaning forward into the conference table they're all sitting at. "I actually like the evil twin theory for this one." 

Hotch's phone vibrates in his pocket. He needs to focus —he can't focus. You've been so heartbreakingly lonely while all of this has been happening, and he loves you, but they have three missing girls to find. 

Time is ticking downward. He's never going to make any headway if he knows you need him on the other side of the phone.

"Just answer it," Rossi says quietly. "Reid's gonna crack it any second now. You have a duty to more than work, my friend." 

Hotch catches it before it goes off. Standing, he buttons his suit jacket again and makes for the door. When it closes, he talks in a measured tone. "Honey," he says, "are you alright?" 

"I'm okay," you say, immediate and bubbly. 

You sound okay, he thinks. "Did you hear anything else from the doctor?" 

"Aaron," you say, a number of emotions in your tone, but mostly love, "they don't call on Sundays, and they never call after six anyways." 

"It's later for you," he remembers.

"I'm so sick of doctors and worrying and worrying about doctors, now I'm worrying about you, did you have to go? 'Cus I know you had to go, but I wish you could've just stayed home. I have this weird bruise I want you to look at–" 

"Hold on. Nothing's wrong?" 

"You're not here. That is so, so wrong." You hiccup. "Woah." 

Hotch blinks to himself, a smile on his lips for the first time in days. "Sweetheart, have you been drinking?" 

"Just what was left of the wine." 

"You mean the one we got last week? That we haven't opened?" 

"Yes." You sound serious. He can imagine your tipsy face, solemnly nodding with eyes wide open.

"Where are you? Still at my apartment?" 

"Is that okay?" 

Hotch closes his eyes. "That's perfect. I don't have to worry about you as long as I know where you are. You haven't taken any painkillers, of course." 

"I'm not silly." 

"That's up for debate. I… I'm glad you're in a good mood, it's good to relax, but no more wine, okay? You'll make yourself sick, and I won't be there to take care of you in the morning." 

"Don't remind me!" Another hiccup. "I think I should've been a special agent, mister Hotchner, so I could come with you all these places and not have to miss you. I love you. I love your face and your hands and the way you always squeeze my hip in the morning when you wake me up." Your forlorn sigh is clear despite the distance. "Do you love me?" 

"Very much, Y/N." 

"I love you. I really didn't mean to drink so much but it actually tasted nicer the more I did." 

"That's how it goes."

"I try to not be disgusting when we have wine together but you weren't here, 'n' I thought I could get sloshed without feeling bad." 

"Why would you feel bad?" he asks, bemused. 

"'Cus you'd have to take care of me, and you take care of everyone. All the time." 

"I like taking care of people. I love taking care of you. You realise that I'd love to take care of you 'sloshed'?" he asks. He can be very honest here, knowing you probably won't remember the entirety of your conversation, but you'll recall how you felt. Well, if you don't get nauseous. "I love looking after you no matter what's wrong. I'm only sorry I can't do it as much as you deserve." 

"You're sorry? That's dumb." 

"Maybe it is." 

"Definitely it is, Aaron. You're way too handsome to bother being sorry." 

Maybe twenty years ago. "In that case, you can stop saying sorry to me altogether." Hotch pauses as a knock rattles the glass behind him. Derek stands on the other side, pointing at Spencer, whose lips are moving a hundred miles an hour. Their smartest member saves the day again. "Honey, I have to go. I'm sorry. I wish I could be with you, you know that? But I really have to go." 

"This is impressive for us, actually, we had like four whole minutes. Bye, handsome, have a good time at camp." 

He snorts. "Bye." 

Hotch takes a split second to collect himself. Your hurting, your drunkenness, your open love for him and the obvious if slurred affection you speak with, he puts everything away and gets ready to do his job. If he does it well enough, he could be home in time to rub your forehead through the hangover. 

[p0rnd3aler]

ME AND YOUR MAMA

Sanemi x reader

MINORS DNI. YOU ARE NOT WELCOME

CW: smut, penetrative sex, reader has a pussy and tits, handjob, Sanemi an asshole, drunk sex, enemies to lovers kind of?, there’s a slap somewhere in there but not during the sex

Word Count: 5,609

Yeah I wish I had a reason for doing this one.

You met Sanemi for the first time after becoming Mitsuri’s Tsuguko. Since you were always literally living with her, you saw Obanai coming over a lot. You didn’t mind the boy, and he didn’t mind you either, actually reacting rather warmly to your presence due to the sheer fact you were Mitsuri’s Tsuguko. He liked to think of you as his and Mitsuri’s sort of love child, as weird as that may seem.

However, since Obanai and Sanemi were so close, you would sometimes see the rather brutish boy while living in the Love Mansion while Obanai was visiting Mitsuri.

These sightings, however, were typically awkward, and you chalk that up to your first meeting.

You were at the hot springs enjoying yourself, when a sudden gust of wind had decided your clothes deserved a dip in the water as well. You looked at the pitiful clothing as it sunk to the bottom, a subtle “well fuck,” leaving your mouth as you dipped below the water to grab it. Shortly after, you head back to the Love Mansion, in nothing but your towel, to ask Mitsuri if she has an extra kimono you can borrow. Once you get there, you ask one of the hinoto in the mansion where Mitsuri is, and they inform you she had left to go eat with Obanai.

Well fuck x2.

You decide Mitsuri wouldn’t mind if you just borrowed one of her kimonos for the evening, in fact she always loves when you borrow her things, so she would probably be ecstatic about it. You head into her room, still wrapped in your towel mind you, and start looking for something to borrow. However, while shuffling through her clothes, you hear her door open behind you, and a low sound. Almost like a gulp? That definitely wasn’t Mitsuri.

Well fuck x3.

You turn your head and see a man, with wild white hair. He’s covered in scars. Jesus, he’s ripped. Somehow his chest is more exposed than yours AND Mitsuri’s. Wow his lashes are so long. Is he blushing?

“Hello, can I help you?” You utter, suddenly conscious of your lack of clothing as you try to be as normal as possible about the petrifying situation.

The man is absolutely red, eyes stuck on your face and not daring to go any lower out of sheer humiliation in his part.

“Is this,” he clears his throat so loudly it sounds like it must’ve hurt “Isn’t this Mitsuri’s room?”

You’re starting to blush, embarrassment finally overtaking the initial shock, still trying to make the situation seem less weird as you respond “Oh yeah it is, but she’s out eating with Obanai. Did you need something specific?” You turn completely towards him and take a step forward “I could pass a message to her if you wa-“

He puts his hands up and interrupts you, averting his gaze to the ground, the wall, anywhere but you

“No no, it’s fine, I was just looking for Obanai anyway. Thanks.”

Sanemi quickly excuses himself and leaves the mansion shortly after. Heading to town, face red and petrified. All he wanted was to ask his friend when they were supposed to go eat, instead he got an eye full of some random girl’s ass AND he got stood up by his friend. He’s so pissed. And embarrassed. And kind of turned on. But mostly pissed. And embarrassed. When he finally finds Obanai and Mitsuri they look shocked. Then they remember they were supposed to be eating WITH him. Mitsuri immediately gasps at the realization and starts apologizing “Oh my God! I’m so sorry! We were so caught up in our conversation we completely forgot!” Obanai pipes in “Yeah, we’re sorry man- wait why are you so red”

Sanemi is so pissed.

He is so pissed but the mortification of what he just experienced is overshadowing his anger so he just gruffs out “It’s fuckin fine I’m fine,” and the three continue their meal like they normally would.

Ever since that fated day you two are EXTREMELY awkward around each other. Though you don’t see each other every day, it’s still often enough for you both to be consistently reminded of your first encounter. Even after learning each others’ names, and engaging in “small talk” (AKA you talking while he wishes he could teleport to anywhere but here) while Mitsuri and Obanai are off canoodling in the background, you are still stiff with the haunting memories of your first meeting together. It stresses Sanemi the fuck out, and his outlet for stress? Taking it out on you. Which wasn’t odd, but he was usually tamer around girls. Not nice, but tamer. With you? He was worse than usual. He was very snappy, and always completely cold and indifferent, and nobody knew why. Obanai and Mitsuri picked up on it, which led to Obanai asking him what was up one day, as the two boys were hanging out alone. After agonizing about it for a couple of minutes Sanemi came clean with Obanai, who laughed his ass off at how stupid the two of you were. Seriously. He also IMMEDIATELY told Mitsuri, who giggled and said “awe, oh nooo, no wonder they turn so red around each other, I thought they were in love.”

You weren’t.

After your first meeting with him, and him being rude to you every time after that, you could care less about his weird ass. You didn’t even care about how you could see his tight abs contract whenever he was training, or how his long lashes shaded his eyes when he looked down in thought. Nope. Not even when his chest heaved after a hard days work, sweat dripping and glistening on every detail of his scarred skin. None of that mattered.

The same way how he NEVER thought about the curve of your ass, or how your damp hair stuck to your breasts, or how your glossy lips pouted whenever he would snap at you. He NEVER considered what it would be like to touch that warm space between your legs and make you tremble for him.

Yeah you were both down bad.

It was driving Obanai crazy. Mitsuri loved it, she thought your guys’ little awkward courtship was adorable. Obanai hated it. He just wanted you two to fuck and get it over with already. “Maybe it’ll get Sanemi to wind the fuck down a bit.” He said.

So they decided to give y’all a little push. It was a team effort for them.

Obanai invited you and Sanemi to go out drinking with him and Mitsuri. Sanemi took some coaxing, but you were excited to see your two best friends and the guy you wanted to fuck, so you eagerly said yes. While you were getting ready you noticed Mitsuri doting on you extra hard, even going as far as doing your makeup and hair for you.

“What’s the point in me wearing makeup? We’re just going drinking” you ask, looking at the ground as she put eyeliner on you

“I’m wearing makeup too, I don’t wanna be the only girl all dressed up! Plus you’re so pretty! It’d be such a shame to not emphasize your features” she gushed over you a bit more, making sure to fluff your breasts a bit before grabbing your hand and skipping out of her room together. She made SURE your tits were out just as much as hers and although you were a bit confused by her sudden attention to detail, you felt pretty damn cute. Sanemi felt the same way, feeling his dick twitch at the sight of your pretty face and your tits nearly spilling out of your kimono.

The walk to the bar felt sooooo long, each time you would try to talk to him he couldn’t help but see your tits bounce with each step in his peripheral vision, so he opted to not look at you at all. Answering everything with short “yeah”s and “mhm”s. You couldn’t help but feel suddenly self conscious. You started getting down on yourself, ‘is he so unattracted to me that even makeup doesn’t help?’ And you suddenly felt like a clown for putting in so much effort just to be ignored. Meanwhile he was trying his best to coax his brain to think of traumatic events just so he doesn’t bust in his pants in front of you, God, and his best friend.

A couple feet in front of you two Obanai and Mitsuri are gossiping about you both.

“Why aren’t they talking?” The Love Hashira was frantic

“Babe, they’re idiots” he got his cheek pinched for that, quickly uttering “it’s trueee! But things will work themselves out! They just need this one little push.”

Mitsuri anxiously glances back, trying not to be obvious. When she sees the look on sanemi’s face, and the way you’re anxiously fiddling with the belt of your kimono, both of you blushing like virgins? She starts smirking. Turning forward and lacing her arm with Obanai before leaning over and whispering “You were righhhtttttt!”

“I knowwwwww!” He whispered back.

They were so in love it made you guys wanna puke. In an endearing way. It was like watching your parents kiss as a child, and it gave both you and Sanemi a slightly less awkward feeling.

“God, those two were made for each other.”

You think out loud

Sanemi nods and almost smiles, wearing a lopsided grin “They’re so in love it makes me sick.”

You laugh at his joke, making the couple in front of you look at each other with wide eyes, and making the poor man next to you almost buckle at the knees.

“Awww no way…maybe just a little” you reply with just a little bit of snark, which makes Sanemi warm up to you a little bit more. Not that you, or anybody else would ever know that, because he’s hell bent on staying emotionally constipated for the rest of his days. But deep down, underneath the constipated surface, he genuinely likes you. He was just VERY sexually frustrated. And an asshole. Plus his last crush died. He’s a little traumatized be patient.

You guys finally got to the bar, and immediately ordered some sake. They forced you and Sanemi to sit next to each other, making you both blush and fidget awkwardly. Once the drinking started, you and Sanemi started to loosen up a bit. Not with each other, though, you both just started talking to mitsuri and Obanai. Suddenly you got too excited, talking to the Love Hashira about something funny you remembered, and lost your balance slightly, bumping into Sanemi. With a little liquid courage in him, he was brave enough to steady you with both of his hands uttering a gentle but gruff

“Are you alright?”

“Mhm,” you look up at him with your flushed face, your glossy eyes gazing up at him through your pretty lashes and reply with a small “Thank you.” He feels his dick throb in his pants and panics. He quickly pushes you off of his body and steadies you back on your seat before ripping his hands from your body as if you were scalding hot. He’s stressed as hell with both of his hands on his knees mumbling “Don’t fucking mention it,” albeit, a little more aggressively than he meant it, he’s just so fucking frustrated, and he doesn’t know what to do. He wants you so bad but he doesn’t know how to initiate anything romantic, so he just suffers in his own little sexually frustrated hell. And you DO NOT make it easy on him. However, you slump a little at his attitude, wondering why he always has to treat you this way. Mitsuri notices how sad you look and before your drunk girl tears can start she ushers you to the bathroom. She grabs your hand and forces you to skip all the way there with her, making your mood brighten just a bit.

Whilst in your own little girl bubble together, she looks at you and says

“Soooo…”

You raise an eyebrow at her “Sooo…what?”

She suddenly stopped walking and grabbed both of your hands, swinging you in front of her gently before whispering to you

“What’s up with you and Sanemi?”

You start to pout “is it that obvious?”

“YES!” She says a little too loudly, earning looks from a couple drinkers who are still close enough to hear you “you both turn so red and get so awkward around each other!”

“I wish!” You admit, the alcohol erasing all caution about your crush on him “He totally hates me…”

“Not from what Obanai tells me!” She says in a bright little whisper, “Cheer up. He’s got a rough personality, but he does like you. We can both tell.” You try not to roll your eyes at your sweet, sweet friend, but you can’t help but feel like she’s just trying to spare your feelings. You give her a little smile and say “Okay, okay. Thank you.” She nods, hands you her hair comb, and says “Go cool off a bit in the bathroom, fix your hair a little, and come back out when you feel as pretty as you look tonight.”

You can’t help but hug her sweet ass. You both have a little drunk girl hug moment, giggling and doting on each other, before you both finally let go. Mitsuri skipping back to the table, and you entering the bathroom to fix yourself up again. You splash a little cool water on your face, which helps you sober up just the tiniest bit, smooth down your hair a bit, and after a couple of minutes of deep breathing, you head back out there, getting back to the table, just to see Mitsuri and Obanai getting ready to leave.

“Hey, where are you guys going?”

Obanai looks at you and looks back at Mitsuri, her being mostly carried by him and barely conscious.

“She’s had a little too much to drink, so I’m just gonna take her back to my place so I can keep an eye on her,” he hoists her up in his grip a bit, “…make sure she doesn’t choke on her own puke.”

You nod hesitantly, not because you doubt Iguro, you know he would never do anything bad to Mitsuri, you just didn’t know where this left you and Sanemi.

“Sanemi, d’you mind walking her home?” Obanai speaks, gesturing to you with a slight jerk of his head. Sanemi sputters “Wha? No way, she’s a Tsuguko she can walk herse-“

“Don’t. Be. An ass. Just walk the poor girl home.” Obanai snips at him, before hoisting Mitsuri up on his back, and piggybacking her out of there.

Sanemi grumbles and drags his hands dramatically down his face in exasperation. You can’t help but feel awkward and kind of hesitant about walking home with him. You both sit there in silence for a couple of minutes.

“Hey, don’t worry about walking me home, I’ll just tell them that you did. Don’t worry about it.”

He sighs dramatically in response “Shut the fuck up. Let’s go.” He stands up straight, tosses some money on the table, and grabs your hand roughly before walking towards the exit. As rough as his grip is, you can’t help but blush because this is the most physical contact you guys have had with each other. Most of the walk back was spent with you both silently blushing, and holding hands, painfully wishing that the other wouldn’t bring it up.

“Sanemi, you’re going kind of fast, I can’t keep up.”

“Shut up. You’re fucking fine.”

His grip on your hand tightens. You frown softly to yourself the rest of the way back. The speed of his pace evidence enough that he would rather be anywhere but here, anywhere except next to you. It sucks wanting to be with him. You start to think bitterly to yourself.

Once you both get back, he walks you towards the door to the mansion, stops slightly right of it, and roughly tugs you from behind him to shove you towards the door.

“There. You’re home for fucks sake.”

He turns to leave, but you’re fed the fuck up at this point. Even when he’s drunk he’s still an asshole.

“Why do you always have to be such a dick?”

He immediately stops, pivoting around and stomping towards you, making you back up until your back hits the wall. He slams both of his hands on the wall behind you, trapping you between them.

“What the fuck did you just say to me?”

You glare up at him “Why the FUCK are you such a DICK all the time?”

He scoffs with his brows raised, and starts to mock you “Oh, what, somebody doesn’t blow smoke up your ass about how hot you are for once and suddenly your whole night’s ruined?” The way his speech is slightly slurred is the only telltale sign he’s just as drunk as you.

You make a bewildered face at him.

“What the fuck are you talking about? Is-is this about that one time?”

He also makes a bewildered face at you.

“The fuck are you talking about?”

“I’m talkin about that time when you walked in on me!”

His whole face turns red and he finally moves his arms off the wall in favor of covering his face with his hands and screaming into them.

You watch on with indifference, if not slight confusion. Eyebrow raised at him as he’s doubled over screaming by himself.

“I think you’re the worst thing that’s happened to me since I became a demon slayer”

You interrupt his meltdown with your own little outburst, honestly you just wanted to hurt his feelings too for once. However, this causes him to straighten up slowly, and inhale before removing his hands from his face.

“Oh yeah? What a privileged life you live, to have some guy who doesn’t want you be the worst thing that’s happened to you. Do you know what everyone else here has BEEN through?” He starts slowly stalking towards you, making you back up to the wall again. “Seems like we’ve all earned our places here except you, doesn’t it?” He stops about half of a foot in front of you “You think I’m the worst thing that’s happened to YOU? You dumb fucking bitch. You’re fucking delusional. Just you wait. Being here will-“

It all happened so fast.

Your palm stung from smacking him, he suddenly went silent, then he looked at you. Cheek bright red and stinging.

Then, he was grabbing your ass and kissing you. It was so, so desperate, too. As soon as his lips came into contact with yours, his palms grabbing handfuls of your ass, he groaned. You kissed back immediately, of course, your hands taking purchase in his hair and grabbing at the roots gently. He parted from you, panting for a second as he moved to suck on your bottom lip. His hands pulled you up, and you wrapped your legs around his waist as he carried you into the Love mansion. He stumbled drunkenly down the hall towards the rooms, you parting from him and quickly whispering a

“hereherehererighthere”

Once he gets to your bedroom door. Then he slides it open, steps inside, and immediately slams it it shut. He lowers both of you to the ground, himself on top of you. He removes his right hand from your ass and places it on your cheek, stroking it with his thumb gently. He stops kissing you just to speak with your lips still touching

“Fuck…wanted you for so long,”

He’s rutting his rock hard dick against your pussy, your kimono exposing you panties and leaving very little separating you from him. He starts feverishly kissing you again. He bites your bottom lip then runs his tongue across it, pulling away to give little kisses to it as his horny little apology for being rough with it. Runs his tongue along the roof of your mouth, just to lick the inside of your teeth and make you shiver. His left thumb sneaks under your panties, and starts rubbing at your pussy. He rubs at your slit, and accidentally touches your clit making you jump. He stops moving and pulls his tongue out of your mouth to look down at you, going back and rubbing the same spot, making you whine soooo sweetly for him. He leans down and sucks at your neck, rubbing your clit again, this time a little rougher, making you moan and your hips do a little jerk against his touch. You feel him smirking as he switches to suck on the other side of your neck

“Right there?” He huffs out, his voice is so low and raspy in your ear, as he rubs another little circle in your clit, making you moan once again as your panties start to dampen his hard cock. He groans at your reaction

“Ohhhh yeah…it’s right there isn’t it baby…your pussy’s slobbering all over my dick, it must feel so good” at this point he’s rubbing it mercilessly, and you’re panting and grinding against his touch letting out a breathy

“Yes baby, right there baby,” and god if your breathy little voice doesn’t send him over the edge. He leans back on his heels and hooks both hands into your panties before roughly tugging them down your legs, looking down with his face bright red and his eyes glossy and desperate for you. His eyes watch as your pussy drips down your ass and onto the floor, and he whimpers at the sight.

He whimpered.

You can’t help but spread your legs for him, and the sight of you doing that before him makes him wonder what he ever did that made the Universe think he deserved this. He groans as he looms over you, the sight of him like this makes all your blood rush to your pussy.

His hairs disheveled, his shirt baggy and showing his buff, heaving chest. His mouth open and panting, his eyes pitiful and screaming “I’m sorry I just wanna put it in you so bad” the sight of him reduced to this alone is enough to make you cum. He kisses you again, leaning on one hand and using the other to thumb at your nipple. You both moan into each others mouths once he touches it, and he stops kissing you so he can start sucking hickies onto your chest. The feeling of his rough lips against your tender skin making you moan. You place your hands on the back of his head, a silent plea to not stop, as you start rubbing your wet pussy against his clothed dick. He groans pitifully against his mouthful of your tit and you feel his dick throb against you. You can’t help but let your jaw slack at everything going on right now. You continue grinding against him and his pops off of your tit, leaving a huge mark on it, and he starts licking at your nipple, tweaking the other with his hand. You moan and jump at the sensation, and he looks up at you with those pitiful eyes again, half lidded as he takes your nipple into his mouth and starts sucking on it, groaning into your skin when he feels how wet you get on his dick after he does that. You grip his hair at the root and pull him off your nipple with a loud and wet pop, and he lets out a guttural groan at the sensation. Your tits covered in his spit and hickies, and his toned body heaving against yours as he pants.

“Sanemi…” you reach your hand under the waistband of his pants and grab his painfully hard dick, forcing a broken moan out of him

“I need you so bad.” You whine back at him. He nods breathlessly, and you start pushing his shirt off his shoulders. Watching his large pecs and the harsh lines of his abs twitch with excitement as he pulls his dick out, making you raise your brows in aroused shock.

He’s so thick, his cock so heavy that even though he’s the hardest he’s ever been in his life, it’s still weighed down by his sheer girth. His dick starts weeping precum and it drips down to your clit perfectly. Before he can do anything you lean up and grab it, drooling down onto his dick and jerking it as you look up at him, rest your chin against his abs as he looks down at you. God the face he’s making is so fucking hot, his lips are slightly colored from your lipstick rubbing off on him, and he just looks so utterly pitiful as he lets out a string of broken moans and sobs, the sight of your pretty face looking up at him as you jerk off his dick reduces him to a little puddle of desperation, and he quickly cums at the sight in front of him, shooting ropes onto your chest and grunting out a loud

“Fuuuuuuuuuuck-k yes please,” he wheezes in desperation as you start jerking him faster, overstimulating him “pleaseeee, yes pleeeassee fu-uck fuck yes, ohhhhh, oh God” his eyes start rolling back as he puts one hand on the back of your head, and the other on your cheek

“Let me put it in. Please, need to be inside you”

He starts leaning you back down, positioning himself over you, resting on one elbow with his hand behind your head, and placing his other hand over the one you have still holding his cock before he starts pushing the tip inside of you. He tightens his grip on your hand as he teases his head in and out of your hole, forcing some high pitched moans out of you, and getting a couple of throaty groans out of him as well. Your pussy sucks his whole tip inside, and you both whimper pitifully. He takes his hand off of yours and rests it next to your head, stroking your hair lightly as he starts slowly humping his dick into you. He buries his face into the crook of your neck, letting out a little desperate “mhm” for every inch that he sinks deeper into you. When he finally gets balls deep, you feel his entire length twitch, as he whimpers a little choked-out-high-pitched “fuck” and takes in shaky breath. You’ve been panting and moaning, desperate since he started fucking himself into you, and the feeling of his fat balls resting and twitching against your ass has your head spinning and your pussy squeezing him even tighter.

He starts with a slow drag out of your pussy, his whole body trembling with need but he’s trying so, so hard to be gentle with you because he knows once he loses himself in this he’s not gonna stop. And he slowly slides himself back to the very hilt. He doesn’t wanna hurt you, but he’s been waiting for you for so long and you feel “fuck you’re so tight and fucking wet oh my god.” He tilts his head up and his eyes flutter open and look down at you, he swallows hard. The thumb on the hand he still has on the back of your head starts stroking your hair, the hand that was next to you now stroking your cheek as he looks down at you so deep and vulnerable, his cheeks still flushed as he starts grinding with his dick still buried inside you, rubbing against your g spot and cervix as his base rubbed your clit so sweetly

“Fuuuuuuuck Sanemi, oh god” you keen underneath him, you bring one hand up to his face as you start stroking his cheek gently too, your other hand gripping harshly at his pants. You’re both moaning and panting while maintaining eye contact, and you can’t help but feel your heart flutter at the intimacy and vulnerability of it all.

“Is…is this okay?” He asks you, all breathy and raspy. His voice goes straight to your pussy and you whine a shaky

“Mhmmmm”

You wrap your legs around his waist and try to pull him impossibly deeper

“I’ve wanted you for a long time too”

You say, and god your voice is oh so sweet and light with arousal.

“Really?” His cheeks get redder, he starts grinding harder against you as his thumb that was stroking your cheek goes lower to start rubbing your clit

“Ah! Yes! Wanted you so bad!”

He smiles down at you and god he looks so soft, so beautiful, fuck. The way he’s rubbing your clit makes it burn with pleasure and you start bubbling little praises for him

“So good”, “so big”, “you’re so pretty, nemi”

He’s blushing and he stops grinding into you just to start pulling out and and thrusting into you, slow and soft, his abs flexing as his chest rubs against yours. He shifts and and accidentally changes the angle of his hips, so when he starts thrusting directly into your g-spot and your pussy clamps down as you squeal with pleasure, he stops, worried that he’s hurt you

“Oh fuck, ‘r you okay?”

“Yes please, please, please don’t stop. Fuck. Right there keep going please baby”

He just looks at you, eyes half lidded and pussy drunk as he nods and starts thrusting harder into you, right into that little soft spot inside you. Your pussy drooling around his cock so much it drips down to his balls and makes a disgusting squelching sound everytime he buries himself into you.

He groans, deep and raspy at the sound

“Fuckkkkkk”

He starts rubbing your clit faster, looking down at you with his sweet, red, and fucked out face

“Cum on it…” he’s panting, his voice raspy from being so loud “…wanna see the look in your eyes as you fall apart. For me.” He starts picking up his pace, your tits bouncing with each thrust and your drawn out moans punctuated by his rhythm. You feel the heat flooding in your pussy and your cheeks, placing both hands on his shoulders to ground yourself,

“Nemi, Nemi,” you let out a wet sob “gonna cummmm” he lets out a depraved moan that pushes you over the edge he feels your pussy squeezing and squirting all over him. You scream as your toes curl and your legs tighten around his waist. He gasps and whimpers out

“Yesss…please, fuck, oh god…” he’s still humping himself into you, getting more and more desperate for his own release, the after shocks of your orgasm making your pussy squeeze the life out of him and he whimpers

“I’m ‘bout to cum…please…please…let me do it inside” he starts rubbing your clit faster, overstimulating you in hopes you’ll let him claim you like this. Your legs shake around him, hands still on his face as you nod “do it, baby, empty it as deep as you can. Want it so bad” he lets out the saddest, hottest broken sob as he empties himself balls deep in side of you. His whole body’s shaking and he’s moaning and whimpering as he grinds himself as deep as possible and fucks his cum deeper into you while he comes down from his high. He finally collapses, and you both are panting, sticky, and completely spent after you first time together. He brings his arms around your waist and rolls off of you, subsequently pulling your body on top of his instead, and moving one of his hands to your head to rub it gently. You’re both still catching your breath, as he finally speaks

“I…I’m bad with words.”

You lift your head off his chest to look at him, he’s looking at the ceiling, avoiding eye contact for now.

He continues “But…I’ve liked you. A long time. ’m sorry I didn’t say anything before,” he takes a hand off you momentarily to vaguely gesture to you, “,this. But I hope that you still…i don’t know…” he trails off, starting to feel embarrassed by the vulnerability and not comfortable enough with the feelings to express the properly.

“I like you too.”

He finally looks at you following your response, and he sits up a little, with him leaning back on one elbow to look at you and you leaning forward on your elbows to look at him.

“I know we both have our…rough spots but,” you continue and place one hand over his

“maybe we could work on them? Together?”

In a rare, soft moment with him he laces his fingers with yours and nods. You both smile sweetly at each other, in the beginnings of a puppy love together, and sit in silence for a bit

“Sorry I slapped you, by the way.”

He snorts and ruffles your hair, you giggle and try to swat his hand away.

“It’s whatever, you’re lucky it was hot.”

_______________________________________

The next day, as Obanai is bringing Mitsuri back, they’re walking down the hall to her room when your door opens up, and out emerges the two of you. Covered in fucking hickies with your hair a mess smiling like fools. Obanai immediately has to slap a hand over Mitsuri’s mouth as she starts to guffaw at the state of you two, Obanai at a loss words.

“I…can’t deal with this right now,” and he continues dragging a chortling Mitsuri back to her room so they can gossip about what the hell they just saw.

[house-of-lovin]

legally binded - 7

Jenna Ortega x F!Reader

masterlist | series mast. | prev. part | next part

Chapter 7: The Afterparty

Summary: After getting caught in some hot waters with the press, you are forced into an unexpected agreement with America's sweetheart, Jenna Ortega to save your career.

Warnings/Tags: dual!pov, famous!reader, actress!reader, mentions of substances, intoxication, mature language, real people. (do not read if any of these make you uncomfortable)

(this is all fiction!)

Note: so... lovely weather we're having. 🙂

Word Count: 4k+

“Where’s Y/N?” Enrique asked as the door of the van shuts closed, for a moment, the incessant sounds of camera shutters and the crowd shouting her name become muffled.

And in that same moment, Jenna feels like she can finally breathe properly through her own lungs. 

“Upstairs,” Jenna mumbled, leaning her expertly pinned hair against the headrest, and closing her eyes.

“I take it things didn’t go well?” He fiddled with his cap, frowning as he watched the young actress’ exhausted features.

Jenna hummed in confirmation but said nothing else, looking out the tinted window as the van started driving slowly. 

Staring up at the hotel, she scanned the various, nearly identical windows for your hotel room. Jenna didn’t even know if your room was facing this direction but she looked anyway, a wishful part of herself hoped to catch a glance of you.

“Don’t worry, it’ll be okay. You two will be okay.”

Jenna snorted, shooting her stylist an incredulous look. “I thought you were mad at her?”

“I’m mad at her for being stupid and for hurting you… even if she is a cutie.” He rolled his eyes, getting comfortable in his seat.

The actress laughed. “Don’t let her hear you say that, you know she has a massive ego.”

Enrique joined in on the laughter before his tone dropped, “You know Sarah and Liv are going to find out that the two of you didn't go to the same party…”

Right now, Jenna could care less about whatever kind of consequence she may get. The embers from her argument with you are still burning bright.

“That’s an issue for later.”

***

Jenna tried to make the best of a bad situation.

She really did.

Even though this wasn’t how she expected to spend the rest of her night — she somehow found a way to let loose. Maybe after she found a few familiar faces that pulled her in to dance, tipped back a few drinks and sang along as Janelle Monae performed for her after-party.

But even still, under the guise of alcohol and a good time. There was an unpleasant churn in her stomach whenever she allowed her mind to drift off to you.

“I’m gonna go to the washroom!” Jenna yelled through the music. Enrique nodded, continuing to cheer Janelle Monae on stage.

Laughing, she walked away while shaking her head; amused at her friend. Glad that he’s having a good time. One of them deserves to be having fun, at least.

As Jenna pushed through the heavy-panelled door of the powder room, she sat on the couch and placed her purse down. Grateful to be stretching her aching legs. 

She takes a second to breathe and in that moment, allowed herself to think about you; wondering which party you went to and who you were surrounded by.

And for a split second, that unpleasant churn in her stomach reemerged as her mind drifted to all the worst possible outcomes of what you could be doing tonight.

Are you safe?

Is someone looking out for you?

Jenna’s decided not to ask Link about you this time, deciding that you two do, in fact, need space for the time being.

She knows she should apologize for the way she acted all day, even all week. Jenna knows she was just projecting her unresolved feelings about you from Coachella and instead of just telling you that she’s been worried and just wants you to talk to her, to let her in. 

She decided to be petty and give into the heat of the moment, instead..

Jenna hopes the two of you can talk about it later tonight. But then she remembers the fact that you’re probably drinking, partying and doing god knows what else so that conversation and apology would probably have to wait until you’ve sobered up.

Standing, Jenna's decided she's had enough of wallowing in her own misery and walked over to the sink to wash her hands.

“Oh, hi!” A sweet-sounding higher pitched voice greeted her from behind after the sound of a door opening and heels clinking.

Immediately, she linked gazes with a certain Hailee Steinfeld through the mirror.

Jenna tried hard to school the surprise on her face.

“Hello…” Jenna smiled politely and glanced away, continuing to wash her hands.

“I’m Hailee…” The other woman greeted, sliding into the sink beside her, a pearly white smile on her full-pink lips.

“I’m Jenna, I would shake your hand but…” She gestured down to the running sink.

Hailee shook her head and laughed. “It’s okay, I’m glad to finally meet you! Can I just say how gorgeous you look! I thought your carpet look was amazing but this — you look stunning!”

“Oh! Uh— Thanks?” This time her surprise is hard to subdue. Feeling flushed under the weight of the other woman’s compliments.

She's never been great at accepting them. 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you embarrassed,” Hailee smiled sheepishly. Her thick brows furrowing in her own embarrassment. 

The heat begins to crawl up her neck. “It’s okay! I— I appreciate it. You look gorgeous as well.” 

Taking the time to scan her, the younger actress has to crane her neck up to see Hailee’s face — it’s no wonder you ended up dating her. The woman is gorgeous. 

She tries to stave the green-eyed monster clawing at her chest at the thought of you two together because the woman standing across from her has been surprisingly pleasant.

“Please!” Hailee waves off, smiling softly, turning to wash her own hands.

Jenna allows the silence to take over the room, unsure of what to say next. After washing her hands, she turned off the sink and walked over to grab paper towels.

Hailee cuts in before she can think about it too hard.

“Hey,” The singer called out as Jenna was about to pick up her purse, “thank you... for looking out for her.”

“What?” Jenna turned, raising her brows in question.

Hailee sighed, leaning against the counter to face Jenna.

“I know Y/N’s not the… easiest. She tends to push people away. I think it’s just the way she’s always been. I’m not really sure. With the whole Vegas situation and these rumours going around about a possible arrest — which, you know, is bullshit, Y/N doesn’t do drugs — her first instinct would’ve been to run and push people away. But you’re still here… so something tells me you’re special.”

Jenna feels her heart drop at the other woman’s words. 

“Y/N can be reckless and cold at times, but I think it’s just an act," She continued; smile contorting sadly, “so she doesn’t actually have to open up to people… I’ve—uh, tried, so I kinda know.”

Jenna was stunned, unsure of what to say to that. Hailee made it sound like you were the one that got away or something. She also caught the openness that accompanied her tone, like the other woman had accepted the circumstances of the situation.

Like she just... let it be.

There wasn’t a lot of things Jenna was certain about but she knew she didn't want to feel that way about you, to just accept your coldness and inability to let people in.

“Anyways, she said you’ve kept her standing on her feet these last few months.” Hailee smiled softly, sincerity burning bright in her eyes. “So thank you, 'cause she deserves someone patient like you.” 

“Thank you…” Jenna finally managed to say despite the barbed wire feeling around her throat.

You really said that? Did you mean it?

If you did then she feels terrible.

“No, thank you, I was scared Link and Y/N were gonna grow old and still be living together. They’re weirdly co-dependent.” Hailee jokes, breaking the heaviness in the room.

Jenna couldn’t help the snort that leaves her mouth. 

And just like that, it felt like two friends enjoying an inside joke.

Jenna's laughter trails off before it turns to a heavy sigh as she grabs her purse. “So I should probably apologize to her, huh?”

The corner of Hailee's mouth tugs a small smug smile. “Depends on what she did… maybe let her sweat it out for a bit more then apologize.”

Jenna chuckled before nodding. “Noted… thank you, Hailee.”

Hailee nods, smiling softly as Jenna turned to walk out of the bathroom.

A surprisingly pleasant feeling appeared in her chest the farther she walked away.  

She felt a bit lighter after that conversation, which is a shock considering she just talked to your ex-girlfriend. For a moment, Jenna felt guilty for her earlier reservations about the other woman. Not wanting to admit that she had let her jealousy cloud her judgment of character.

Hailee had nothing but great things to say about her — and you for that matter. A testament to how, despite your hot and cold demeanour, there’s someone worth knowing underneath.

Ugh. She hated it when she was wrong.

But there was also that nagging echo in her head that had to admit that she was glad she was wrong about you.

I’m sorry for what I said. Can I come see you? Are you still at the other after-party?

Swallowing her pride, she hit send then walked back to the party to find Enrique, hoping she can distract herself as she waits for your reply.

20 minutes go by without a response and Jenna doesn’t know if she should start feeling annoyed or worried; the line between the two is thinning by the second, she concluded. She decided she leaned more on the latter and stepped away from the party once again. Roaming the halls before stepping out onto a secluded balcony; grateful for the warm night in the early May month. 

Pulling out her phone from her clutch, she called Link immediately, knowing that if anyone knew your whereabouts it’d be him.

“Hello?” Link answered breathlessly and in the background, the actress can hear sounds of traffic and people talking over one another.

“Link? Can you hear me?” Jenna spoke into the lonely night air.

“Yeah— yeah, sorry.” It sounded like Link walked away from the noise because when he spoke again, it sounded much clearer. But she immediately noted the urgency in his voice. “Hey.”

“Hey, I texted Y/N 20 minutes ago but she didn’t respond, is everything okay?” Jenna got to the point, chewing her lip.

“Shit—“ Link cursed. “Uh, about that.”

“Link, what does that mean?” Jenna felt every muscle in her body tense at his words, like before a big drop on a rollercoaster.

“We can’t find her.” Link confessed. 

Jenna’s stomach dropped. Yeah, except that rollercoaster has just derailed.

“What do you mean you can’t find her?” 

“We lost her. She said she was going to the bathroom but she never came back.” He recounted nervously.

“What—“ Jenna was dumbfounded, mind on overdrive as a sudden wave of coldness washed over her body as she processes what she’s just been told.

You're missing.

No one knows where you are.

“Are you looking for her now?” Jenna manages to ask, gripping the balcony railing for support. She thinks she feels a little light-headed but she pushes that thought away because you are more important, right now.

“Yes, of course. We checked everywhere. But uh—it’s been almost two hours since anyone’s seen her…” Link hesitated before confessing.

The last thing they need is for Jenna to start freaking out too.

Jenna’s stomach dropped again. This time she feels like she’s been launched off the rollercoaster entirely and is free-falling mid-air.

“Hey, hey, it’ll be okay. She does this, it’s kinda her thing. We’ll find her soon. Don’t worry.” Link reassured after Jenna doesn’t respond.

“When was the last time that she did this, Link?” Jenna asked shakily.

A beat passed before the man answered. “Vegas…”

“Shit…” They said in unison.

“What—what do we do?” Jenna asked.

“Just keep texting and calling her. I’m out looking for her right now, I have her entire security team with me.” He reassured her once again but she can still hear the trepidation in his tone.

“Okay…” Jenna trails off, not really sure if she’s actually listening at this point.

“Jenna— we’ll find her, don’t worry.” Link said with certainty but it didn’t ease the anxiety in her chest.

“I know…” Jenna mumbled, grasping her phone with a mighty grip and forced herself to take a calming breath. “Okay, okay. I’ll start calling her. Maybe I should go back to her room, in case she comes back?”

“Yeah, that’s a great idea, keep me updated Jen.” 

“I will.”

The line goes dead as Link hangs up.

“Shit.” Even with Jenna’s trembling fingers, she contacted your number with haste.

But the call never even rang. 

***

It’s past 2 AM and no one has still heard from you. 

She had left you a total of 26 missed calls and almost 50 text messages. That’s not even counting the ones she’s sent you through Enrique’s phone.

At this point, Jenna was ready to go to the police but Link advised her that they wouldn’t be able to do anything because it hasn’t been 24 hours yet. Your closest confidant also warned her of adding fuel to the fire with the press if headlines that you're missing are released.

The actress feels an excruciatingly sharp pain forming in between her brows; the early stages of a migraine, the longer she paced around your room.

“Where is she, Link?” She chewed on the bottom lip, anxiously. “What if something bad happened? She doesn’t have security with her...”

“Her whole team has been driving around the city looking for her but we already checked the other after-parties and she wasn’t there. I hate to say it, Jenna, but if Y/N doesn’t want to be found, you won’t.” Link sat down on the couch in the living room.

The wrinkled exhaustion and worry were clear as day on his face. Jenna sighed, sitting down beside him. “I know you tried your best. Thank you for looking…”

“Yeah… of course. How are you though?” He turned, scanning her equally exhausted features. 

“I feel terrible if I had just tabled it like she said–”

“Hey–” Link cuts in, shaking his head. “Don’t. Y/N’s gonna do whatever she wants, you can’t put this one on you.” 

Jenna nods unconvincingly, slumping against her seat. “What about you? How are you?”

He stared off, deep in thought. “She’s like my sister, you know. We didn’t have it easy growing up. I know she’s— stand-offish and hard to get along with at times…”

Jenna turned to face him at his sudden confession, deciding to stay silent.

“You can’t even imagine how many times I’ve tried to quit being her assistant.” Link chuckled, looking up at the ceiling. “But I could never really do it. ‘Cause even though she has these massive walls around herself and that annoying-ass nonchalant attitude. I know sometimes this job is a lot… even for her.”

Jenna huffed, slouching back into the soft couch, trying to be understanding. “I know… trust me I know the job, we all do–”

Link shakes his head. “You don’t. Not her story at least…”

Snapping her head to the side, she watches the assistant’s side profile, noting the deep wrinkle on his forehead. “What does that mean?”

She couldn’t help but ask.

He sighed, “It’s not my place to say but Y/N's been through some stuff. Stuff that you wouldn't wish on anyone.”

“What?”

He sighed again, debating if he should open the can of worms. “At the time, I was living with my grandmother. She’s the only family I have left, it’s probably why I can’t let go of Y/N too. The money I make from working with her, I send to take care of my nan… But even with all that, Y/N was dealing with her mom.”

“She told me she was controlling or something — wanted more money?” Jenna scrunched her nose in disgust at how someone can treat their own flesh and blood like that.

“She wasn’t just controlling, Jenna… she tried to sue Y/N over it. She tried to take away her right to make decisions over her own career and when that didn’t work she tried to get her to quit the industry."

Jenna’s stomach dropped. “What?”

Linked nodded, watching Jenna’s stunned reaction. “Yeah… Jake and Liv fought against it. It never turned into a legal case, thank god. The judge dismissed her claims but it really fucked with her head you know. That her own mother could do that to her."

Jenna stared off into nothing as she processed his words.

No wonder you’re so closed off and scared to let people in. She felt sick to her stomach thinking about what you’ve gone through and how, even despite all of that, you still managed to stay standing on your own two feet and carry on as if nothing happened.

She wonders how long it’s been since you’ve really let anyone in.

“I knew she’d been dealing with things… these last few months. She had a packed year last year and her schedule was only getting busier. She never outwardly said it was becoming too much but I could see it. It started small; missing texts, calls, alarms… then she wouldn’t come home cause she was partying all night… it got too much. I think that singer and his friends were taking advantage of her fame but she always brushed me off whenever I said something. We even got into a big fight before Vegas so I stayed with a friend for a couple of days to cool off.”

“Link…” Jenna trailed off, she heard the guilty tone accompanied by his words. “It wasn’t your fault.”

“No… I know. Y/N’s going to do what she wants, I’ve learned to accept it. It still doesn’t make me feel any better that she’s in this situation and that I could’ve done something to prevent it.”

Link cleared his throat, sitting up a bit. “Just saying… from Y/N’s person to the other – I get what you’re feeling. She’s definitely not the easiest but I don’t know… when she shows she cares, you know she means it.”

“You think I’m Y/N’s person?” Jenna asked shocked. “We barely know each other.”

Link rolled his eyes, sending her a flat look. “Yeah ‘cause you two communicate through silent looks and then don’t talk about your feelings. If you guys fix your shit then maybe you can be her person too.” 

Jenna opened her mouth for a rebuttal but the sound of something smacking against the wall interrupted her.

Immediately, the assistant and actress spring up, walking spritely to the foyer. When they round the corner, Jenna is torn between feeling relieved or furious.

They spot you, slumped against the wall nearly slipping on your own two feet, piss-fucking-drunk as you dropped the keycard to the floor.

“Are you fucking serious right now?” Link scoffed but briskly walked over to help you up, throwing your arm over his shoulder. "What the hell happened to you?"

“Sorry for being a disappointment, Dad.” You mumbled as Link dragged you down the hallway. Eyes barely opened and even then, Jenna can see the alcohol-muddled haze through your slow blinks. 

“What the fuck, Y/N?” Jenna echoed as she watched how you had to be carried, too drunk to do it yourself. 

It scared her, this was not a version of you that she liked. 

She doesn’t want to listen to that small voice in her head again, the one that’s saying you’re bad news. You’re a party animal, this is what you do. You’re reckless. But the other part of her wants to give you a chance to explain yourself, especially after what Link just told her – it’s hard to keep that sentiment when you act like this though.

“Oh hey, Jenna.” You waved as if nothing is wrong, toothy smile on your lips. “I tried looking for you at the party… then I realized we fought and that’s why you weren’t with me. Are you still mad at me?”

Jenna didn’t know what to say so she kept quiet and followed Link as he lead you to the bedroom, nearly throwing you onto the mattress. 

“Fuck, Y/N. You can’t keep doing this.” Link sighed out, taking a few steps back from the bed to scan you. 

“Who’s gonna stop me?” You snorted, sitting up to tug your shoes off, chucking them without care.

“Dude, for real? We spent nearly four hours looking for your ass. Do you realize what kind of trouble you could’ve gotten into if–” 

“–yeah, yeah,” You wave off and Jenna can see Link’s eye twitching and jaw clenching in anger. He knew better than to fight with a drunk person. Especially if that person is you. 

He lets out a deep breath, then turned to younger actress, “I can’t be around her right now. I’m sorry.” 

Then he walked away, slamming the door loudly behind him making Jenna flinch. A few seconds of silence pass without a single movement.

“What are you still doing here?” You asked in a snipped tone, breaking the quietude. Jenna doesn’t know if she should feel offended. 

Crossing her arms, she scans your dishevelled attire. Your tie is loose, buttons are undone, and dress shirt is half-tucked – in short, you looked like a hot mess. “I’ve been calling you all night, where have you been?”

“Phone died.” You yanked your blazer off, throwing it on the floor, “and out… drinking.”

“With who? By yourself or with someone?” Jenna asked, walking closer, and helping you take off your tie.

“Doesn’t matter..” You grumbled as she helped you, looking at a spot on the wall and Jenna clenched her jaw cause you were closing up again.

“Well, it matters to me,” She yanked the tie off your neck.

“Why?” You looked up at her.

“What?”

“Why do you care so much? I thought this was all just for the press?” You pushed off the bed, wobbling on your feet. Jenna took a few steps back but kept close, in case you needed help but you shrugged her attempts away.

She tried not to take it personally.

Jenna called after you but you ignored her and just stumbled to the bathroom. She trails behind, still keeping a close eye.

“No, seriously. You kiss me and let me stay with your family and then you shut me down? What kind of fucked up shit is that?” You spoke up, venom laced in your words.

Jenna knows it’s the alcohol talking. But drunk words, sober thoughts?

“Well guess what? Fuck that. I may be closed off but at least I don’t lead people on.” You seethe, stopping in your tracks to spin around and face her.

The anger in your eyes is not an emotion she had seen before. This was different than your other petty disputes and arguments. You meant it.

Jenna blinked, shaking her head furiously, “What? No! That’s not what I’m doing.”

“I don’t care! I’m over it. If you wanna believe the press over me like everyone else, go ahead. I’m fucking used to it.” You grumbled, turning away to keep walking but this time Jenna grabbed your elbow, stopping you.

“Can you just stop for a second and let me explain!” But you yanked back like you’ve been burned and Jenna thinks she can physically feel her heart splitting down the middle. 

“No, fuck that!” You yelled before taking a deep breath, using Jenna's stunned silence as a chance to keep talking. You looked deeply into her eyes and said the next words with pure conviction. ”I’m sick of trusting people and letting them in just to be fucking burned over and over again — After the Met Gala, I’ll go to Jake and Liv and tell them this is over. Next week, it’ll be three months anyway. Then, we’ll never have to see each other again.” 

There was no slurring in your voice or wobble in your stance as you said those words.

Jenna blinked back the tears forming in her eyes, clenching her jaw. Not recognizing this version of you standing across from her.

This isn’t the same person that treated her family kindly and won over their hearts.

This isn’t the same person that won over her heart.

So, she listened.

“Okay….” Jenna nodded weakly, then turned walking out of your room not being able to look into your eyes.

She missed the instant regret in them as you tracked her disappearing figure.

***

i told y’all this slow burn would be slowwwww.

***

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***

[psychelis-new]

pick a pile: "Your manifestations: at what stage are they?"

take a breath and choose the photo or number that calls you the most to find out where you are in your manifestation path and when you may be able to see them in the 3d. reminder that the message may not refer to ALL of your manifestationns at the same time: the message may address to the most important to you atm or in general for your growth/self. try to adapt according on your guts/intuitive feeling.

don’t take the reading too seriously. only take what resonates with you and leave the rest. if you're not called by any pile, let this reading slid as it may not hold messages for you. if you're called by more than one pile, there may be messages in each of those piles. remember that is a general reading and some things may not resonate with you. energies can change and readings are based on present ones (as you read); you're always in charge of your life.

(photos found on unsplash)

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1 2 3

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pile 1

Pile 1 you're probably trying to manifest different things (either each one of you have many wishes/manifestations going on or that's the general energy of the pile as someone may be for example manifesting a job, someone else love...). I think there are at least 3 big manifestations or groups though (but more likely each of you may have 3 manifestations going on or sth like that). It may be that a couple of these dreams are put on hold from the Universe in order to make you ready through more experience but another one may even be manifesting suddenly. And I think it could be the one you probably care the most about and are working the hardest to reach. Or the one you deserve the most atm and for many could be *new* connections (not just romantic love but also work connections and friends -in particular). So yeah maybe right now you cannot see anything but you're asked to keep working diligently and with determination, to take charge of what are your possibilities and powers and use them. It may even manifest kinda soon but the choice depends on you too. Try to not worry too much if you cannot see results or signs in the 3d yet or constantly, be bold and keep going.

I think following the moon phases can help you, maybe you're called to meditate to manifest under the moonlight or use moonstones too; or ask the moon for guidance. Not sure if the upcoming lunar eclipse will enhance your chances but it may be worth trying. Your glass is full now so don't worry, let your guards down (if you insecurities are connected with a lack of trust or anything like that; probably your heart chakra still needs some healing still or to be more open after an old wound you had to experience -you probably had to deal with some sort of betrayal/judgement, I'm sorry you didn't deserve it at all) and take a leap. It's up to you, work on ending your worries and don't let them make you give up on your hopes cause I do feel sometimes an hurt side of you may give a lot of importance to any slightly negative "feedback/event" happening and make you want to retreat and give up. Please don't. Accept what has been (you cannot change the past), nurture yourself but remind yourself that you can change your future if you let yourself try: you're different from the person you were and so are the people you're gonna meet or are around you already. You can survive anyway and Universe is on your side too (one by one you'll manifest whatever you want, you just need to start the process, even if you feel like you're not ready to -you are, trust your guts not your fears). Let others in, let others see you.

song: hold on | the internet

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pile 2

Hi pile 2, you probably are focusing and meditating a lot to manifest your wishes. You probably follow groups about manifestations or have a manifestation/meditation group in which you all pray together or follow guided manifestations meditations. Maybe you have chants you repeat or something like that. I see you as very committed to your manifestation process. And you don't seem alone in this: maybe your Guides are supporting you and giving you even more power or guidance, maybe they give you ideas through dreams or something or send you to the right readings (make them appear in front of you) that can help you find infos on how to manifest. Your devotion is probably caused by the fact that you really want to change something in your life, maybe an old hurting cycle you've been in for too long. And you will be able to ofc. Keep focusing on your inner knowledge but also on what you can learn from the outside, maybe from more knowledgeable spiritual guides or people you can find (or are sent to). You'll be able to balance your probably kinda negative past with an equally good positive future (if not more). For now things are hidden, especially the timing of your success, but know that your efforts are seen and supported and things will change as you need and deserve.

I think some of you should change a little how much time they spend on their manifestations: it's not about it, it's not about how much dedication you show. The Universe knows of your needs the moment you send them out of you, so let them go. Let your prayers go too. The moment you ask with good intention for something, you'll get your answer. To keep insisting on asking the same thing in as many different ways as you can find online or in books, it won't make things faster or better. Try to relax a little and not stress over your manifestations. Attract them fastly by letting them go too.

song: indipendent love song | scarlet

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pile 3

Hey pile 3, you're going to experience something new pretty soon. A new spring/start. It could be love for some of you but not necessarily: it could be also something you love, like a passion of yours transforming in a job or finding the job of your dreams... You're surrounded by a lot of warmth and kindness and probably you like to give these away too: you're gonna get them back as well. Keep following your intution as it is guiding you towards your manifestations too (and not just vice versa). I think things in your life may be changing a lot soon, like almost 180° change and you're called to be welcoming of this change even if it may feel scary at first (cause you're not used to something so different from your present life, and that's okay). You may be getting a good news soon, or you may be travelling or get into a new partnership (for many romantic, for others in work or school). All in all, you're gonna be very happy in this new position, even if again at first you may start developing insecurities and fears (and maybe you have a few already now and then just by imagining yourself in there) but that's normal: give yourself time to get acquainted with a new reality and just let go of control and enjoy every step of it.

I think some of you may have control or perfectionism (self worth insecurities) issues or something like that. You're called to have a talk with yourself and realize where these fears and insecurities come from and remember: you can only control yourself and perfectionism doesn't exist. Do not hold such high standards for you (even if it comes from a trauma you had to experience as in you having to overwork in order to get praise or recognition -sorry about it, know that you're worthy no matter what you were made to believe), you can try your best and make mistakes: the mistakes/failures of today are never the ones of tomorrow. You grow experience everyday also thanks to what goes wrong. Be positive and take care of you. You're worth of whatever you're wishing for and going to get, do not let your fears take it away from you.

song: miss perfect | abs, nodesha

[mybutcheredtongue]

I'll Love You 'til the Grass Around My Gravestone is Deceased

harry potter timeline sirius black x fem!reader

CHAPTER ELEVEN (see full series list here)

1993

You find yourself sitting in the Tower again. You dangle a string of wool in front of Dubh and she joyfully bats at it with her front paws. You smile lovingly at her, chuckling when she misses the wool and lands on your knee instead. The sky above you has darkened, and you look out over the grounds.

It's the best view in the castle, of course. You get to see the near-entirety of the grounds in all its glory. The Black Lake is still and calm; the tree' leaves are swaying lazily in the light evening breeze; the dark, scruffy dog is pattering across the grass...

You blink, and the dog is gone. You sigh, falling back to the floor and lying down, staring up at the sky above you.

Twinkling lights dot the sky above you, winking at you. Part of you likes to think that those stars have souls. That they can see you right now, and are wondering why you're admiring them so much. To them, they're just balls of gas. To you, they're the most beautiful thing in the world.

You think on the day, remembering your visit to Hagrid early this morning. The poor man was in bits, all torn up over Buckbeak. Hagrid doesn't deserve such stress and worry, and neither does Buckbeak.

A few clouds are scattered around, passing over the bright, full moon. Your mind turns to Remus: he is no doubt sitting in his office right now, all wolfish, probably having a hankering for red meat. You offered to stay with him on full moons, but he refused. Despite the Wolfsbane potion allowing him to keep his mind during the transformation, rendering him harmless, he stipulated that he wanted to be alone, just in case something went wrong.

You don't want him to be alone, but you respect his wishes anyway.

You've known Remus is a werewolf for a very long time. You weren't even meant to find out about Remus' lycanthropy, but you used to get so worried about him at school. He was always exhausted, always disappearing on full moons, not eating well...it had gotten to the point where you cornered him in the library and expressed your concerns for him. You asked him to tell you what was wrong because you couldn't watch any longer, worried that something bad was keeping him up at night.

And, well, you weren't wrong. But he confided in you, just like he had his other friends, and from then on you did everything you could to help him. While the boys spent full moons with him, you ensured he got enough rest during the remainder of the month, made him his favourite teas, helped with keeping his secret secure...he became like a brother to you.

Your school days are something you treasure immensely. Everything was just so right. When you and Sirius starting dating Christmas of your sixth year, everything clicked into place. It felt like you had another family at Hogwarts.

You and Sirius whispered to each other during late nights in the common room, and you would trace the outlines of his tattoos as you listened to him talk.

You, Lily, and Alice shared things together that you never could share with anyone else.

You and Remus played chess with each other and always forgot about using strategy, instead choosing to just try and annihilate as many of the other's pieces as possible.

You and James played Exploding Snap, which always ended with the ends of his hair singed and him sulking when he lost.

You helped Peter prepare himself for his first date, making sure he was mentally ready and feeling confident.

Life was much simpler.

The clouds part and the moon reveals itself, casting a glow around it. In the distance, you hear a wolf howling, and for a moment you think it's Remus, before you shake your head. He's in his office, probably sleeping it off right now.

Speaking of sleep, you feel extremely comfortable where you are right now. You let your eyelids drift shut and fall into a peaceful, dreamless sleep.

⁠✧⁠*⁠。✧⁠*⁠。

You wake some time later, the cold air nipping at your arms. You sit up groggily, yawning. You nudge Dubh and she wakes, getting up to follow you out of the Tower. As you're opening the door to your room, you realise you left your wand up there and quickly run back up the stairs to grab it.

You locate the item on your desk, stuffing it into your pocket, momentarily getting distracted by a scuff mark on the desk, wondering how that got there.

There's a heavy thud from the other side of the room.

You look up.

Your heart stops.

There, at the railing, is Buckbeak, Hagrid's giant Hippogriff. And on his back is Harry, Hermione, and...Sirius. He hops down, facing you.

You lock eyes and your name rolls off his tongue softly, and never has it sounded so perfect.

He's wearing shabby Azkaban clothes, which are ripped and tattered everywhere. His skin is dirty and his face is sunken with dark bags under his eyes. He's grown a beard and his hair has gotten even longer, but has become matted.

"Sirius?" you choke, frozen in place. "Are you really there?"

He nods, a small smile on his face. "Yes, my love. I'm here."

You take a tentative step forward, unsure really whether you are dreaming or not. The rational part of your brain is telling you to stop, to run in the other direction — this is a convict in front of you, after all!

But your heart makes all the decisions for you. It reaches out, desperately trying to get to its other half because truly, you were half a heart without him.

Your steps are slow and it feels like hours have passed before you finally stop in front of him. You hesitantly reach out, placing your hand against his chest.

"Please, tell me I'm not dreaming," you whisper.

Sirius brings his hand up to cover yours, moving it to press over where his heart is, where you can feel his racing heart beat. You can see a scar on his pinky finger, one he told you he got during a game of 'Pin the Tail on Kreacher' with Regulus when he was eight.

You feel tears prick your eyes, looking back into the face of the man you love more than anything in the world. You bring shaky hands up to his face, holding it delicately, like you're afraid he's going to break.

"I missed you," you say softly. "I missed you so much, Sirius."

"I missed you too," he replies. "How is it that you look just as beautiful today as you looked on our wedding day?"

You give a watery chuckle, sniffling. "Sirius Black, forever the flirt."

You lean forward and press your lips against his. This, this feeling. The overwhelming sense of feeling right where you belong, in the arms of the man you love. His lips are chapped but you don't care. His skin is rough but you don't care. His beard scratches against you but you don't care. You don't care about anything other than the fact that he's here with you. He's finally here.

"Please, darling..." he starts, taking a deep breath and gazing at you. "It wasn't me. I promise you with everything I have to give that I didn't kill those people, I was never a Death Eater — "

"I know."

" — I would never do that to James and Lily — "

"I know."

He pauses, looking at you in surprise. "You know?"

"I know, Siri," you say gently. "I believe you, I trust you. I know you. I've spent the last twelve years of my life believing you're innocent. I know you would never do that."

He opens his mouth to say something but can't seem to find the words. "You — you smart girl. My smart girl. My perfect, smart, beautiful girl..."

His eyes are brimming with tears as he keeps them fixed on you, before he pulls you into his chest and holds you tightly, burying his face in your hair.

"I love you. I love you. I love you so much," he says, kissing your cheek. "Going so long without you has been torture."

"It's been torture for me too," you reply. "I love you. I love you more than anything, Sirius." You smile at him before adding, "And you have seriously got to take a shower. Why don't you come down to my room and get all cleaned up?"

Sirius pulls away, giving you an uncertain look and you sigh. He glances back at Harry and Hermione, who you've pretty much forgotten are even there.

"We...don't have a lot of time left," Hermione says apologetically.

"I'm sorry, my love," Sirius says, pressing his forehead against yours. "I have to go."

You clutch onto his arms desperately, shaking your head. "No, no. You — you can't go. You can't leave me again, Sirius. No, please. Please. Please don't do this to me again. Why leave when I've just found you again?"

Tears stream down your face and Sirius reaches out to brush them away with his thumb. "I have to, darling. The Ministry'll be here any moment now, looking for me. I can't put you in danger like that."

"I'll come with you!" You try. "Please, we can go away together — we'll figure something out, just please, don't leave me again. I've been without you for too long, please — "

"I can't do that to you," he says weakly. "You have to stay."

"Sirius, please — "

"Stay," he says, kissing your forehead. "I'll find you again. I will always find my way back to you, no matter how far."

You let out a quiet sob and kiss him again, desperate for even the slightest bit of contact with him to remind you that you actually have him here with you.

"Please, darling. Stay here," he tells you firmly. "You'll be okay."

"I just — I've been waiting for this for too long," you say weakly. "I hoped I'd have you for longer."

He brings you hand to his lips, kissing your fingers lovingly. "I know, I know. We'll meet again and then — it'll be like I never left."

"I love you."

"I love you too."

He lets go of you, and it takes all of your willpower not to grab ahold of him again and never let go. Harry and Hermione jump off of Buckbeak, looking at each other awkwardly.

Sirius pulls Harry in for a hug, smiling proudly at him. "You are — truly your father's son, Harry."

Hermione looks at her watch nervously. "Quick, quick, you don't have time!"

Sirius takes one last glance back at you as he climbs up onto Buckbeak's back. He sends a wink your way and you shake your head amusedly, sighing.

He squeezes Buckbeak's sides with his heels. The enormous wings of the Hippogriff rise and you step back slightly, watching as it takes off into the air. Sirius and Buckbeak steadily become smaller and smaller until a cloud drifts past and...they're gone.

You swallow hard, sniffling as you brush tears off your cheeks. Before they can leave, you grab Harry and Hermione and pull them both in for a tight hug.

"Thank you, thank you both so much," you say. "You — you are the most wonderful children I have ever met — you brought him back to me, how did you ever do it? How can I ever thank you?"

"It's nothing, really — " Harry says sheepishly.

"Nothing? You have both just given me the best gift in the world," you say with a smile. Hermione is looking at her watch again and you let go. "Go, go on. You look like you have somewhere to be."

Hermione nods, grabbing Harry's arm and they turn to run down the stairs.

"Oh, and Harry!" You call after him. He stops for a second and you give him a smile. "Come find me when you have some free time. I'm sure you have a few questions to ask."

He nods affirmatively and they run off again.

⁠✧⁠*⁠。✧⁠*⁠。

"YOU!" Snape bursts into the Astronomy Tower, looking outraged. "You — what did you do?!"

You look up innocently from your desk, watching as Snape climbs to the top of the stairs, red-faced and angry. He's out of breath — you don't know if it's because he's angry or because walking up those stairs is about the most exercise he's gotten in a decade.

Behind him, comes Fudge and Dumbledore. Fudge is huffing and puffing, and when he reaches the top he lays a hand against the wall as he breathes in and out.

"You — you did something!" Snape snaps. "How else could he have escaped?"

"How else could who have escaped?"

"BLACK!"

"Well, I'd have a hard time getting him out of Azkaban, wouldn't I?"

Snape looks like he's about to burst. A vein is popping out in his neck and his eyes are bulging.

"HE — WAS — CAUGHT — AND — NOW — HE'S — GONE — "

"Wait, he was caught?" You ask, feigning oblivion.

Fudge nods. "Yes, we had caught him perfectly well...the Dementors were going to perform the Kiss — "

You slam your book down on the table, standing up from your chair, staring Fudge down. "Do you mean to say that the Dementors' Kiss was going to performed on my husband without my knowledge?"

Fudge visibly swallows, glancing at Dumbledore helplessly, who chooses to become fixated on one of the constellations on the wall.

"Well, er...we reviewed our options and seen that — um — we didn't have the time to inform you — "

"Bullshit," you spit. "You could have easily told me, you just weren't bothered, were you? Some Minister you are."

Fudge splutters, face going red.

Snape is still shaking with fury beside him. He jabs his finger in your direction. "YOU DID IT, I KNOW YOU DID — "

"That is enough, Severus. Why, the portrait of Eloria Floria in the corridor told us that she had not left the Tower since she first entered it three hours ago," Dumbledore says calmly.

Fudge glances at his watch. "Well, I suppose there is nothing more to it than that. I'd better go and notify the Ministry of this..."

Snape is seething. Absolutely seething. He gives one fuming look in your direction, before storming down the stairs once more. It's nearly comical because it's purely silent in the Tower but for the clunking of Snape's footfalls against the stairs, his anger evident in his heavy stomps.

It reminds you of a young child throwing a tantrum.

→ all kinds of interaction are appreciated ♡

⁠✧⁠*⁠。✧⁠*⁠。

->-> read chapter twelve here!

sorry for the shortish chapter but I just really wanted to get this one out. They've finally reunited!!!

+ a big thank you to my taglist loves for all their support and kindness:

@wholelottalove05 @izuoyarmin @carpe000diem @hyperspeedo

[julianalvarez9]

what could have been / mason mount

summary: nothing good comes from friends with feelings for each other that never got the chance to confess, and it's worse when one's forced to leave. knowing this could be mason's farewell to his forever club is hard, but maybe, hopefully, he doesn't have to say goodbye to you.

author's note: was sad about him leaving, then reminded myself it's not that deep, so i turned this funny at the end. angst, to fluff, to funny, one might say? not proofread like, at all. anyways, seems like i'll continue to love him unfortunately for y'all 😮‍💨

wc: 838 words

"you're leaving?".

you don't expect the words to sound so rough, even if your tone is anything but a whisper. still, mason freezes in front of his locker, where he was taking the last of his stuff, and also, a last look at the place he used to call home all these years. since being a kid, really. he thought that, just maybe, he could avoid this. he could avoid seeing your sad eyes, and he could avoid saying goodbye, because he was never good at it.

it always wrecked him a bit seeing a teammate go. every single one that left, took a bit of him, and also, a bit of chelsea. so much, that he feels he doesn't recognize the club he grew up to love anymore. so much that he doesn't see his future here any longer, although it hurts him.

"i'm sorry," he begins to say, but shuts him mouth quickly when he realizes the knot on his throat is too big to swallow. he wants to say that he would have wanted you to find out in other ways, maybe by him instead, but he knows it's a lie. mason could never have enough strength to look you in the eyes and tell you that it's over.

it hasn't even begun, he thinks, and he curses himself for losing so much time. you two had been gravitating towards each other so much these past few years, getting even closer after the shit year he had, but that was it. you two were closer.

he wishes he had said something earlier. to see if this, whatever this was, could go further. he already knew, back in january, the possibility of him leaving when summer comes. he wonders, if something had happened between you two, if you would have followed him. mason knows it's selfish to think about it, to even daydream about you leaving everything behind like he deserved the effort. like he deserved you, in the first place. but maybe that's why he hadn't said anything during these six months. because he knew he didn't deserve someone as caring, as beautiful, as loving, as you.

"just a bit over three hours in train, right?". mason tilts his head to the side, like he doesn't understand why you're asking him about the distance between manchester, his new home, and london, but he nods, anyway. the smile painted on your lips, although it's small, it's sincere. "well, if you ever need... a friend from home, i'll be there".

mason knows he should fight the urge to get closer to you than he needs to be. more than ever now, when he finds himself cutting all ties that used to connect him to this club, but still, he finds out that he couldn't, possibly, cut you out. that's why he's striding towards you, big and fast steps that take him to you in a second. he's engulfing you in a totally unexpected hug -to you, but still, you couldn't possibly say no to him, and feeling comforted in his arms, even if your heart is breaking.

"but, don't ask me to wear your shirt," you deadpan when he backs away, although still close enough to you to have his hand caressing your cheek softly, "you know i hate united" and he laughs. even if it lasts a second, the sound of it is enough to turn your cheeks flaming hot. a wicked idea crosses your mind, and you can't fight the need to make a final quip. "although, there's this player that i really fancy there..." his eyes grow wide, and you rush the punch of the joke before he can say anything, "number 6, licha, martinez!" you say excitedly, and he huffs a laugh, suddenly remembering the unfortunate encounter in the last man utd - chelsea match. 

"you're mean" mason says, rolling his eyes, and you laugh. it's impossible for him to keep a straight face after that, but he tries, looking intently into your eyes, with his forehead against yours. your words get scrambled into your brain, and you rush out to say anything that it isn't the three little words dancing in your tongue. "you have to befriend him. he's argentinian, after all. just say you want a mate".

"nah" he scrunches his nose, like the idea doesn't look as appealing as you thought, "i like the ones you make, might not like his". you know he's not being serious, because everybody knows that argentinian footballers have a master degree in the making of the famous cultural drink, but you let him get away with it, because this might be the last day you see him in a while.

"gonna make me move to fucking manchester to make you mate, i see how it is." it's mean to come as a joke, but mason's eyes light up, and he finds himself saying something he knows he shouldn't, although he can't really hide it. "it wouldn't be such a bad idea, no?".

"maybe not".

[ghostandkonigsmaus]

Could you do a fic/oneshot idk about Ghost and reader going for a walk or going to some store

I have the hc that Ghost doesn't wear the skull balaclava if he's not working or with the 141, so he wears a black surgical mask but you can write he however you want. Anyway, a group of teenagers pass by them and give Ghost dirty looks, he notices and is like "Hey reader, are you sure you like going out with me?" Moving away from her a little so the others don't look weird at her

Meanwhile she's like 🤭I have guard dog privileges, my bf is so handsome🤭 lol just fluff after that

-🍓

READER IS REFERED TO AS FEMALE

TW! THIS FIC INCLUDES: Angst with a happy ending (nothing too bad! just a tiny bit of angst), fluff, bullying?

Word count: 721 words

A/N: Tysm for all of the asks and support that has been and are being sent to me! I can't describe how greatful I am for it all, I'm currently working on asks and a ghost fic I plan to put out soon, as long as there are no major disruptions! :3

--------🎀--------

You and Ghost had decided to take a stroll to the local mall because he wanted to treat you; a weekly occurrence because he just loves his little girl so much. You look up at him in admiration as you cling onto his muscular but soft arm whilst walking to the next shop. Your eyes slid down from his eyes, to the surgical mask he was wearing, you could just about make out his smile as he proudly walked with you and carried your bags. When you and ghost were out, he preferred to wear a simple, black surgical mask instead of the skull balaclava he wears when he's with tf141: he didn't want to scare anyone, especially the innocent little children, he couldn't bare it.

You and ghost approach a big group of teenagers and ghosts grip on your waist tightened, pulling you closer to him so you don't get lost. The mall was already so busy and this extra congestion just served as a major inconvenience. As you walked past them, they began to point and snicker at ghost, shooting him dirty looks. Your heart breaks into tiny little pieces as you watch his proud smile drop into an ashamed look. You both continue to walk past the group but Ghost moves away from you, releasing your grip on his arm. You try to regain your hold on him but he moves further away, eyes set on your destination. You resort to lightly tugging on the hem of his shirt and thankfully, he finally looks at you.

"Si... Is everything okay?" You asked softly. Ghost looks into your eyes and his heartstrings tug at the look of love and admiration, but also worry in your eyes. He doesn't deserve this; you're too good for him.

"Y/N... are you... are you sure you want to be with... someone like me?" he chokes out hesitantly, tears gathering along his waterline, "like, are you sure you like it?" You didn't think it was possible for your heart to break any more than what it did earlier but hearing Simon say such derogatory things about himself truly brought upon feelings of sadness you didn't even know existed. "It's just that I'm not the best person you could be with, there's so many men out there, more normal than me and well you choose to be with me but I just don't think that-"

"Si." You cut him off. You guide him over to a safer, less congested area and you stop walking. You place your hands on his biceps and you just look at him as you smile. "Simon, you are the best person I've ever met. I don't want someone else, I want you," You bring your hands up to his shoulders, "you make me feel so many emotions that I can't even begin to explain, you make me feel so safe." Tears find their way back into Simon's eyes but this time, not because of sadness.

"When you do your little habits, it makes me love you even more because I remember how perfect you are. Let them stare, let them giggle and make snarky remarks, because it doesn't matter. What matters is how amazing you are and how much of your heart and soul you put into loving me. You are everything and more of what I could ever wish for. You are my handsome, kind, caring boyfriend who wouldn't hurt a single thing outside of work." You bring your hands up to his cheeks to wipe away his tears and you place a soft kiss on his lips. "I love you, Simon Riley." You say as you pull away. Simon smiles at you and brings you in for a tight hug."I love you too, Y/N" he takes a deep breath to calm himself down. "Mmh, lovie, you're the best thing that's ever happened to me. Words can't describe how much I love you."

You pull away and smile back at him as your arms find their way back to his. You hold on tight and you two continue to walk along the mall, but this time, Simon won't shy away in fear of embarrassing you; he will stand next to you, no longer ashamed of himself and proud of having a girlfriend as amazing as you.

[antianakin]

MY STANCES ON CONTROVERSIAL CHARACTERS ARE AS FOLLOWS

Anakin Skywalker: This one's fairly obvious, but I'm one of the people who doesn't see Anakin as redeemed by the end of ROTJ just because he saved one person he personally gives a damn about. My definition of redemption is about atoning and making amends, and Anakin has no possible way of actually DOING THAT for most of the things he's done, so there's no real way of acquiring redemption. He can be a better person, he can be forgiven by individual people for things he's done to them, he can keep choosing to be selfless instead of selfish, but none of that necessarily means he has to be considered redeemed. If you think he's redeemed at the end of ROTJ and that's what brings you joy in your interpretation of the story, great, I honestly don't care. But if you choose to come into my notes and get mad at me because I don't think the space fascist is redeemed just because he decides to save his own son, you will now be blocked on sight, I'm done having that conversation with people.

The Jedi As A Whole: Wonderful people with a beautiful culture that never did a single thing to deserve what was done to them. They were not corrupt, they didn't need to reform their culture in a single way. There was nothing more they could've done for Anakin or the Republic that would've stopped what happened. They don't steal children, they adopt them from parents who choose to let their children lead a better life, and become part of the large extended Jedi family. They are intergalactic therapists whose literal way of life IS therapy for those who choose to follow it. They were outplayed, but they did everything they could've possibly done. Sometimes, it is possible to commit no mistakes, and still lose. That is not a weakness. That is life. (Side note here: This is an incredibly pro Jedi blog, if you come on my blog and criticize the Jedi in any way, you will be immediately blocked, I am so done with this fandom's anti-Jedi sentiments, consider this your warning.)

Padme Amidala: Deserved better from the Prequels, has such potential and promise and I want so dearly to save her from her toxic ass marriage to a fascist MAGA manchild, but damn am I glad Luke and Leia didn't have to grow up with her as a mother some days.

Bo-Katan Kryze: I wish I could like her, but the writers are making it SO HARD. They don't seem to ever remember that she gleefully set an entire village on fire because they dared ask for their enslaved people back and to not be occupied anymore, but I do.

Satine Kryze: I wish I could like her, but I don't have enough nostalgia for her to overlook how bad the writing is for her. She treats Obi-Wan like garbage, brings out the worst in him, acts very arrogantly about just about everything and never has to take responsibility for her own mistakes so she gets to die a martyr.

Aleksander Kallus: Literally has to have his ENTIRE BACKSTORY retconned so he can be "redeemed" within the span of one episode. Also manages to "All Lives Matter" Zeb into thinking that judging Imperials for their fascist choices is the same as judging an ENTIRE SPECIES on the actions of one individual who was acting in self-defense anyway. Stop saying he's got the best redemption arc in Star Wars, it sucks fucking ass and he's not a fucking Fulcrum, he just stole the title from Ahsoka and didn't earn it and he was a shit spy anyway.

Crosshair: Bigoted dickhead who treats everyone like complete crap and then goes full fascist as a punishment for the world when no one wants to risk their lives to save him. Let him die already, he's not worth saving.

Bode Akuna: Basically just Anakin lite and we all know how I feel about Anakin. No sob story justifies anything he's done and I didn't find him all that interesting or sympathetic, personally.

Rafa and Trace Martez: I actually loved them, I thought they had an interesting relationship with each other and with Ahsoka, I appreciated how different they felt and the arc Ahsoka goes on with them. I don't mind that they used them to showcase the rising anti-Jedi sentiment among the citizens of Coruscant, I just wish their opinions hadn't been presented as though they were right. I love that we see they've joined a rebellion of sorts post-Order 66 and I wish we'd gotten to see more of Trace, Rafa, and Rex working together rather than the absolute trashfire that we're actually getting on TBB.

Ahsoka Tano: Relationship status: It's complicated. I DO like her, generally, but I REALLY dislike the way she's constantly written in later stuff to be better than everyone else and to have basically zero flaws so that she can end up like a messiah or a goddess of light reborn or something. It's boring, it's annoying, and it just isn't any good. I particularly don't care for how she consistently gets utilized to bash the Jedi Order and absolve Anakin for all of his sins. Ahsoka deserves better, but I'm also immensely frustrated with where her story's taken her and the way fandom tends to treat her. We also just straight-up need more main female Jedi characters and as long as Ahsoka's around it feels like it'll never happen.

Sabine Wren: I love the Rebels version of her, but the Ahsoka show version sucks. I have decided it simply does not exist for Sabine. That isn't the real Sabine and it never will be. That's not Sabine's story, the real Sabine would never try to be a Jedi because quite simply she doesn't NEED to be. And the real Sabine would NEVER disrespect Ezra's sacrifice by undoing it and then leaving him to deal with the fallout. It's stupid, it's ugly, and Sabine deserved better.

Hera Syndulla: Much like Sabine, I love the Rebels version of her, but the Ahsoka version sucks. The Ahsoka version deserves to be kicked out of the army or whatever, she's a terrible mother and an even worse General and quite honestly not that great of a friend. The real Hera would NEVER act like orders didn't matter just because she doesn't like them or refuse to see the logic in letting go of Ezra after he's been missing for 10 years so that those resources can go to people who they can confirm are still alive.

Shin Hati: She's so so so boring. She has the personality of cardboard, it basically consists of "crazy eyes" and that's about it. She is pretty literally just Darth Maul but a girl. Like every single part of her character so far is indistinguishable from Maul aside from the cosmetic stuff. I hope she dies in season 2 and never gets a redemption arc. I'd say Sabine deserves better, but honestly Ahsoka!Sabine deserves her.

Grey Jedi: Stop trying to make fetch happen. It's not going to happen. Let Grey Jedi stay in fanon where it belongs, none of your faves are Grey Jedi in canon and they never will be.

[ghcstao3]

feeling evil today. cw MCD

angst but it’s a soulmate au where everyone is born without the ability to see colour, but upon meeting your soulmate you can see everything. the only thing is, if you’ve met your soulmate, gained all that colour—if they die after that, you slowly lose it, as well as your vision entirely.

>:)

Soulmates were common enough, sure, but it wasn’t something so common that someone would feel left out if they went their entire lives seeing in only black and white.

That’s Soap’s philosophy about it, anyway. If one never knows colour, then how can it be mourned? If it can’t ever really be imagined with the naturally-imposed state of being human, then why should Soap ever go to bed at night wishing, praying he could find whoever fate had assigned to him, if he ever so happened to encounter them.

It’s his philosophy, at least, until he meets Ghost.

Until he meets Ghost like they aren’t moments from heading toward a possible death, like they aren’t in the midst of soldiers and weapons and nighttime where colours would hardly ever be as vibrant as they could be. Until he meets Ghost and foolishly reaches out to touch him in greeting, and ends up stumbling as his eyes and brain and everything else are forced to adapt to new sights.

Ghost hides it better than he does, but the look he throws Soap’s way is entirely too telling.

They don’t talk about it until they’re finally home safe, after weeks of gruelling work and near-death, after they’ve had the chance to adjust to this new change in their life. They don’t talk about it until they’ve both come to the conclusion that they’re more than willing to try and follow what the universe had given them.

And it works. It works so well. Soap’s thrown aside his old mentality entirely for this new, incredible, wonderful thing, because he’s not sure how he’d feel, if he ever had to go back. If he ever had to lose this new liveliness to the world and return to grey, grey, grey.

But for men like them, men like him, he should’ve known such a good thing would have to come to an end. It’s a natural cycle.

It’s still upsetting, however, when Ghost dies in the field despite his insistence, his promise to make it out of all this alive. To escape the military one day, when they’ve both seen enough conflict and blood, once their souls have truly been tainted beyond repair.

Soap was supposed to retire with him, only a few months later when their contracts reached their ends, but instead finds himself renewing his own for however many years while Ghost’s body lies cremated, interred, dead and gone.

When colours suddenly begin to look less vibrant, Soap just attributes it to his general mood, as of late. To the numbness and anger and everything else he’s been surviving off of since Ghost’s death.

But then colours are sapped from his life entirely, suddenly and gradually all at once, and he realizes it’s just because his soulmate is dead. His soulmate is dead, and the universe has since realized that he is no longer deserving of its colours, its life.

He strains so hard to remember the colour of Ghost’s—Simon’s eyes in those moments it hits him hardest. Strains and fails to remember the pink of his lips, the colour of the freckles and beauty marks that littered his face. Soap can’t even remember the colour of the ink pen he uses to sketch.

Then his vision itself starts to decline. He doesn’t know why, is just suddenly terrified, losing the last of his eyes. The blur becomes too much, he has to be discharged from his career, all he’s ever truly known, and then Soap is at home with his parents and their eternally-grey hair until he can’t even see black and white anymore, and his life is over.

He’s blind. Years after Ghost’s death and he’s lost the love of his life and the colour it gave to him, he’s list his career over something he can’t control, something doctors call unfortunate but irreparable, incurable. Fated to go completely blind, they tell him, since losing his soulmate.

It happens, son. We’re sorry. You’re not alone.

But how could he know that? How could Soap believe that, when his entire world has been stolen from him?

He wishes he could return to his younger, naive self. Return to a world prior to Ghost, and everything that came with him.

Because he’d been right. He wouldn’t have ever felt left out, if he knew this was all his future would ever hold for him.

[honeybrowne]

𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐆 — 𝐀𝐀𝐑𝐎𝐍 𝐇𝐎𝐓𝐂𝐇𝐍𝐄𝐑

— summary: after forgetting your anniversary, aaron is consumed with guilt and can't help but feel like he doesn't deserve you or the gift you gave him. you prove to him that he does.

— pairing: aaron hotchner x reader (no pronouns)

— content: angst with a happy ending; hurt feelings [1.6k words]

— author's note: this was requested and meant to only be a blurb, but it quickly got out of hand… so here we are lmao. i hope this is what you had in mind, anon!

navigation . masterlist

9:37 p.m.

That's what the clock read when you looked at it for the fifth time in the last ten minutes, wondering if your boyfriend would ever come home.

At this point, you had been waiting for almost five hours. The dinner you made for your anniversary already stored in the refrigerator.

Part of you hoped the team had been called away for a case, and Aaron was too swamped with responsibilities, trying to save yourself from the sorrow that he simply forgot. But deep down, you knew he would've made time to call you, texting Penelope to know for sure.

Once you got the confirmation from her that they didn't have a case, and he was still in his office when she left, you couldn't stop the tears from rolling down your face.

Maybe it was your fault for not reminding Aaron of what today was, but you didn't think you had to. You thought he'd remember on his own, considering he referred to the day you agreed to be his partner as the second best day of his life, only coming second to when his son was born.

Knowing it wasn't as important to him as you thought stung, probably just another day that he didn't think was worth celebrating when it meant everything to you.

After another twenty minutes, you decided there was no point in waiting anymore. You turned off all the lights, blew out the candles you lit, and left his gift on the table for him to find.

When Aaron got home an hour later, he wasn't surprised to see all the lights out, but he was surprised to see a card and a small box wrapped beautifully in wrapping paper sitting on the kitchen table. He looked down the hall to check if the bedroom door was open and you were awake, but it was closed, and he flicked the lights on to get a better look at it.

His stomach sank when he read his name in your handwriting on the pale blue envelope, a tiny heart doodled at the end.

That's when it dawned on him.

He ran a hand down his face at the realization, cursing under his breath as he carefully opened it. It was a card for the anniversary he had forgotten, resulting in you spending it alone because he stayed late at work for the fourth time that week.

What hurt even worse was what you had written on the inside:

Happy anniversary, my love.

I know one year of being together might not be the most significant milestone you've accomplished, but getting to love you for that long has been the most significant one of mine. To this day, I still can't comprehend how I got lucky enough to share this life with you and be the one you come home to every night you're not away saving the world.

There's so much more I wish I could say, but there aren't enough words to express how much you mean to me, so I hope this is good enough.

Forever yours, Y/N.

With a shaky hand and a few stubborn tears, Aaron set the card down and reached for the box beside it. Carefully, he slipped the ribbon off, removing the paper as neatly as possible. Just by the emblem on the packaging, he knew what it was.

A few months ago, he had mentioned a watch he wanted but didn't think it was worth spending that much on something he could get for cheaper. Of course, you had gotten it for him anyway, a gift to prove you listened and wanted to do whatever you could to make him happy. He tried not to get more choked up about it, but the lump in his throat proved that to be useless.

Opening it confirmed his suspicions that it was the silver Submariner Rolex he had shown you, and he couldn't help but feel like he didn't deserve to touch it, much less put it on.

He closed the lid and left it on the table where he found it but took the card with him before making his way into the bedroom.

You were fast asleep, the bathroom light on and the door cracked open because you hated sleeping in complete darkness without him. Aaron quietly removed his suit and shoes, hanging his jacket and pants up in the closet so he could take them to the dry cleaners at the end of the week.

Before getting in bed with you, he placed the card on the nightstand next to the picture of him and Jack you gifted him for his birthday. You didn't move when he slipped under the covers, either in too deep of sleep to notice or refusing to give him any of your attention.

If the latter were the case, he wouldn't have blamed you.

"Sweetheart," Aaron said softly, gently rubbing your arm, trying not to startle you.

"Not in the mood," you murmured as you moved away, followed by a faint sniffle.

There wasn't a doubt in his mind that you spent all evening crying, which broke his heart. It was already bad enough that he had stupidly forgotten your anniversary, but to know he was the reason for your tears made him feel like the worst boyfriend in the world, and all he wanted to do was fix it.

"Baby, please look at me," he begged, refraining from touching you again.

Your breath was unsteady as you inhaled deeply, slowly turning around to face him. Even with the tiny sliver of light coming from the bathroom, Aaron could see how puffy your eyes were from crying.

"How was your day?" you asked quietly.

He sighed. "Don't worry about that right now. I want to apologize to you."

"Aaron, it's fine—"

"No, it's not," he denied. "It's not okay that I forgot our anniversary and left you here waiting for me all night. It's not okay that you went out of your way to make this special just for me to not show up." Tears began to well in your eyes again, and he tugged you towards him, cradling the back of your head as you buried your face in his neck to quiet your sobs. "I'm so sorry, baby."

He wished you would say something, even if it was to tell him how angry you were at him, but you weren't. You were crying because you were upset, and that was even worse.

"I know I don't deserve it, but talk to me. Please," he murmured.

You forced yourself to look at him, his hand coming up to wipe your tears away. "I'm sad," you said. "I get that your job is important, but I really thought I meant more to you."

Aaron closed his eyes as he processed your words, wrapping his arm around you tighter. "Sweetheart, you mean everything to me. I'm not trying to make excuses, but the last few weeks have been hectic, and it just slipped my mind."

Despite him saying he wasn't trying to make excuses, he was. You didn't want to think about this anymore and would rather go to sleep so you could pretend like this day never happened.

You didn't want to be mad at him over something that was already done and you couldn't change. It was already a miracle that he came home at all with how dangerous his job was; that's what you wanted to focus on and be grateful for.

"I know," you whispered. "Can we just go to bed, please?"

Even though fights between you happened rarely, he never liked going to bed with either of you upset. However, it wasn't his place to be asking for things from you right now, so he agreed.

You turned over to face away from him, but you let him keep his arm draped over your side.

After a few minutes, you managed to fall asleep, but Aaron laid awake all night.

The following morning, he tried not to disturb you when it was time for him to get up. Thankfully, you rested peacefully as he disappeared into the bathroom to shower. It wasn't till he was putting on the final touches of his outfit that your eyes blinked open.

Aaron smiled at you, and you returned the sentiment as you watched him adjust his tie. You frowned when his old watch peeked out from under the sleeve of his suit jacket, wondering why he wasn't wearing the one you got him.

"Wait, did you not see your gift on the table when you got home?" you asked, sitting up and rubbing the sleep from your eyes.

"Oh, I did," he nodded, "but I didn't think I deserved to have it."

The tone of his voice was self-loathing, and he looked at you curiously when you moved to get off the bed. "I'm gonna go get it. I want to see what it looks like on," you explained, and he stopped you.

His mouth opened and closed like he was going to say something, but he just smiled and kissed your forehead. "I'll get it. Stay here."

You brought him in for a kiss before letting him go, adjusting your pillows so you could sit comfortably. He returned a few moments later with the Rolex still in the box, turning the light on and handing it to you to do the honors.

When you bought it, you couldn't believe how nice it was, but as you placed it on his wrist, it was a thousand times better than what you remembered.

It fit him perfectly, the silver looking sharp against the black of his suit.

"What do you think?"

Aaron blinked at you a few times, at a loss for words. "Honey, I love it. I'm sorry I don't have anything for you yet, but it's... wow. Thank you."

"You're welcome," you grinned, the expression on his face better than any anniversary gift you could ever receive.

He stood between your legs and tilted your chin up, bringing you in for a kiss so sweet you almost melted right then and there. It was everything you both needed, a silent apology from him and a reminder that he loved you more than you could imagine, but it didn't hurt to say it out loud, too.

"I love you."

[busylickingsatansballs]

The Lies We Tell.

Troy Otto x wife Trimbol reader

Summary: Y/N confronts Troy about their shared and complicated past, yes they're in love, yes he killed her whole family no this man can do no wrong. Don't come at me. Martha is a made up camp doctor.

Warnings: toxic, mentions of pregnancy, death, canon typical violence. Arguments, swearing and if you find anything else please lmk.

Troy couldn't remember how they'd got here, the back and fourth bickering had turned into a full blown argument. Y/N stomped into the tent Troy hot on her heels "because it's none of your business Troy." she shouted stopping in the middle huffing out a breath as she blew a stray hair out of her face.

God she was beautiful.

"none of my business? You're my wife." he spat "I deserve to know." she scoffed rolling her eyes.

"no you don't." she threw back balling her fists chest heaving from the intensity of their argument. "if you don't tell me I'll go find Martha and force her to tell me." Y/N scanned his face to see if he was serious, he was.

"cause that's your answer to everything isn't it, brute force. Tell me Troy, how well did that work out at the ranch?" Troy's face hardened.

"I'm not like that anymore, that was a mistake."

"all of it?"

"all of it." he repeated.

She shook her head "if you needed to know I would tell you." her voice was quiter. "you don't need to know not yet."

"I don't want you to leave me I wouldn't survive it not now. You have no idea how much power you have over me." he sounded pathetic but he didn't care.

"The feelings mutual believe me." Troy moved closer fingers dancing up her arm.

"You can always talk to me Y/N, always be honest."

She searched his gaze, face unreadable. "and you've always been honest with me? About everything?" she was digging, tone in her voice shifting suggesting she knew more than she let on.

He'd be a fool to lie now, but he did it anyway.

"Of course." Troy swallowed breaking under her scrutiny as the guilt weighed his eyes to the floor.

"Even what happened with Mike, Gretchen, my mom and dad." she knew. He dropped his arms from her skin but she didn't move away.

"How long?" he tried to speak but couldn't get out the words. I mean what would he say? 'Hey, How long have you known that I'm the reason you're an orphan.?' yeah no.

"Long enough." she whispered eyes dancing over his features, his eyes stayed down.

"I'm sorry." he started "I know." she didn't sound as upset as he'd thought.

"If I could go back-" she didn't let him finish that thought.

Carrying on speaking as if she hadn't heard him.

“I remember sitting there waiting, just waiting for this hate to take over and it just didn't. I still loved you, you killed my family and I married you, doesn't that tell you everything? And then it hit me there was nothing.”

Troy dared to look at her, she looked calm albeit slightly sweaty, her hair clung to her forehead stray curls framed her features.

"Nothing that you could ever do that could ever make me stop loving you.” she was crying now. He pulled her into his arms, relief flooding his system when she clung tighter to him.

"I didn't bring all this up as a guilt trip, I need you to understand that things are different now, I forgave you a long time ago. There are more important things to worry about now."

More important? What could possibly be bigger than this?

He didn't care.

He was too selfish to let her go. As long as she was willing he was going to try and if she wasn't maybe even then.

"I wish I could go back and change things I'd be different, be a better man for you. I need you, everyday you make me better."

He heard her sniffle, her shaky hands wiped her face as she took a step back to properly look him in the face.

"I'm pregnant."

Well shit.

[abiiors]

im back again!

could u try to do a thing where reader tries to attempt the gaslighting thing from tiktok on matty

- esp with the like "do you ever wish you were tall" or "have you ever thought of trying to make actual music", or something like that

maybe even confuse him abt if u actually are a thing or not to the point he gets extremely jealous n clingy

Look at him!!! He’s so soft and pretty, how am I supposed to be mean to him? 😭😭 But for you, I’m going to give this a try…

I hope you like it ❤️

Grouch

Can I come over later?

His text from a few hours ago is still fresh in your mind. The excitement about him coming over has since doubled, tripled because you have a plan forming in your head. 

An evil plan brewing more like…

You can’t help but laugh giddily as you put on your nicest dress possible, as you scour Pinterest for the best “sultry makeup inspo”. You can’t help but laugh as the doorbell rings. 

This has to be strategically executed, it absolutely needs to be perfect. You have to greet him exactly like usual, with a smile and a kiss.

He raises an eyebrow when he comes in, eyes you from head to toe appreciatively and then pulls you in for another kiss. 

‘You look gorgeous, baby…’

You blush, shyly say a thank you, but the confused look on his face is back. 

‘I thought we were just going to stay in today?’

‘Well…yea, we are. I just thought I’d go out with Nick after you’ve left?’ You deserve an Oscar for the performance you’ve been putting on so far or at least an Emmy. 

His eyes narrow at the mention of another man’s name. ‘Who’s Nick?’ he tries to be all cool and nonchalant but you can already see the cogs of his brain working overtime trying to place that name. 

Nothing’s going to occur to him, however. Because Nick isn’t a real person, he’s only a prompt for this prank. You let him mull that over in his head for a bit as you make your way to the kitchen. It doesn’t escape your notice how he follows you like a puppy. 

‘Oh, Nick?’ you try to look at him through innocent doe eyes.

‘Yea, do I know him?’

‘Oh well, I don’t know. He runs that bakery in town, remember? I always talk about how much I love their brownies,’ you prod on. Even sigh wistfully for dramatic effect. 

Matty, however, looks like he’s swallowed sour milk. 

‘And what are you doing with him?’ 

You shrug in response, turn around to grab some mugs from the shelf. You even make sure to stand on your toes to grab them from the highest shelf. It wouldn’t hurt if he sees how good your ass looks in these jeans…

‘He said the bakery was going to be closed today,’ you fiddle with the mugs, try to find the right ones, stall time so you won’t have to look at him during this part. ‘I asked him if he could teach me how to bake, so that’s what we’re doing today.’

You turn back to him and smile cheerfully. 

‘So is he teaching a class?’ he asks hopefully, ‘like with multiple other people?’

‘Oh, no,’ you smile excitedly, ‘this is a special one-on-one.’

‘A special one-on-one?’ his jaw hangs open slightly as if he can’t believe what you’re trying to imply. For a moment you wonder if you’re going too far but this is just starting to get funny.

You click your tongue, ‘you know what I mean…’

There’s a beat of silence when you’re both silent. He’s trying to figure out what to say and you’re trying to hold the laughter in.

‘Baby, I could teach you how to bake,’ he grumbles, ‘Fuck, youtube could teach you that.’

‘Yea but he’s a professional,’ you laugh and press a chaste little kiss to his cheek. ‘Besides, do you even know how to make brownies?’

‘It’s not like it’s rocket science,’ he rolls his eyes. ‘And what’s so good about this guy anyway?’ 

‘He’s French,’ you answer as if that explains everything. Matty can make of that whatever he wants to.

You turn around, put the kettle on and start walking away to get some snacks but he’s not about to let you… Not so fast.

In one smooth movement, he hooks two fingers in the back pocket of your jeans and pulls you flush against his chest.

‘I don’t know what you’re trying to pull but you didn’t seriously think you were going to a special session with this dickhead, did you?’

The possessiveness in his voice sends shivers down your spine and makes your mouth go dry. 

‘Especially not looking like that.’

His mouth hovers just above your ear and you know he felt that shiver just now. 

‘No?’ you try to sound confused but it just comes out breathy.

‘Yea, no French asshole is about to get one-on-one time with my girl,’ he declares. And just like that he’s back to being annoyed and huffy.

Your already-weakening resolve breaks instantly as you turn to hide your face in his chest and burst out into a fit of giggles. 

‘Oh god, you really…you really fell for it,’ you try to get the words out between giggles and he frowns. 

‘What do you mean?’

‘You,’ you jab a finger in his chest, ‘Matty Healy who is almost chronically online doesn’t know what a TikTok trend is?’

You look at his face, see him go through all five phases of grief at once. You can feel the tears running down your cheeks, smudging your eye makeup but his face is just too funny. 

‘You’re an asshole,’ he mutters but holds onto your waist just as tightly 

‘Grouch,’ you tease as you stand on your toes once again and start peppering kisses all over his face. ‘Would it help if I say the clothes and the makeup are for you?’

‘Whatever,’ he rolls his eyes, looks at a random spot on the wall but he hasn’t exactly pulled away from you. If anything, he’s leaning into them. 

‘And would it help if I say Nick’s not a real person?’

‘He’s not?’ Of course, that piques his interest but he’s quick to put the annoyed mask back in place, ‘I mean, yea sure. Why do I care?’

‘You really don’t care?’ you pout, press a feathery kiss on his jaw. To his credit, he manages not to close his eyes and sigh at the kiss. 

‘Are you mad at me?’ you look at him through your eyelashes and even make your lip wobble for the added effect. 

That’s the trick that does it. He stops focusing on the wall and looks back at you again. 

‘This is so unfair!’ he grumbles. ‘I can’t even stay mad at you.’

[starlightsearches]

soooo how would you feel about possibly writing about Robin and Steve tag teaming us? 👀 Robin said she and Steve should “combine” because they would essentially make one function human being together and idk about you but I would love to suck his d while she eats my p.

Her Best Friend's Girl

“don’t cover you’re face, i want to see you”

AN: Hoooooooooooooly fuck friend, I know this has taken me so long, but I still remember when I got this one because I fucking choked so hard during my zoom class that I had to turn off my camera. Anyways, I adjusted the prompt a little bit because I'm a selfish little bitch but I hope you still like it.

Robin Buckley x Femme! Reader x Steve Harrington

Warnings: Drug use and underage drinking, Steve's girlfriend! reader, Robin experiences homophobia, fingering (f receiving), oral (f receiving), a wee bit of a daddy kink, reader's got some pillow princess vibes, it’s so long (for me at least, it’s like 6K). I started writing this in between volume 1 and volume 2 so it kind of takes place in an imaginary world where volume 2 had a good ending.

Robin's never felt like this before.

Besides a few sips of somebody's parents' wine at a band sleepover (and whatever the Russian's injected her with), Robin's stayed straight-laced and sober her entire high school career. But after the past few weeks, she couldn't argue with Steve when he told her they both deserved a fucking break.

The view from Steve's car is hazy, the lazy afternoon sun filtering through the smoke from his lips as he passes her the joint between two fingers. There's a Bowie song playing quietly through the speakers, but in her current state, Robin can't pick out the lyrics from the melody.

Her lungs have relaxed enough that she doesn't cough on the exhale anymore, letting the golden-warm smoke inside and breathing it out with a giggle.

"I just don't, like, get it though," she says, turning toward her best friend with a sigh, "like how do you even know what to do."

In the back of her mind, there's a little alarm going off, quietly reminding her that normally sex was an off-limits topic with Steve, although that feels like a silly barrier now. As much as she hated to admit it, Steve had the kind of experience she was severely lacking.

"It's like," he says, twisting in his seat—swaying a little— "it's like, it's different with every girl, you know? Like, with my girl—"

Robin groans, rolling her head back against the upholstery. Steve had only been dating you for a couple of weeks, but it was definitely his new favorite topic. Well, my girl and I went to see that new David Bowie movie . . . My girl was telling me about this thing she was reading . . . you know, my girl would love that.

And it's not like Robin doesn't like you. She likes you a lot—actually—and she likes seeing how happy Steve is when you're around. She can't even find it in herself to make gagging noises when you guys are cuddled together on the couch, or let out a snide comment any of the times she's relegated to the back seat so Steve can drive with his hand on your thigh.

Robin just wishes she didn't have to hear about you all the time.

"As I was saying," Steve continues, shooting her a tempered glare for the interruption, "with my girl, she likes it when I—"

He does a complicated movement with the hand not holding the joint, and then shakes his fingers, like they're not listening. "No, it's more like—"

Robin watches the wiggling of his fingers, grimacing. Maybe she's gayer than she thought, but it doesn't look like it would feel very good at all.

Steve frowns at his own hand, and then brushes the confusion away with a puff of smoke. "It's too hard to describe. It'd be easier if I just showed you."

"Ewwww. Steve!"

Robin slaps him hard enough that he almost drops the joint, but even her disgust is tempered by the high—punctuated by a deep, throaty laugh.

"Gross, no. Not like that—" Steve's laughing too, falling over until his hair brushes her shoulder. "No, god no. I meant, you know, on my girl."

He shrugs, like it's totally not a big deal. Like he hadn't suggested something insane.

Sweat collects underneath her palms, pressed tight against her jeans, and she rubs her hands rhythmically back and forth over the rough denim, letting the texture soothe her.

"Wait . . . seriously?"

And, okay. Robin thought you were hot. A total babe, really, but not in the obvious way, nothing flashy—no hey, look at me features. It was understated, the kind of beauty you really had to look at and know to appreciate.

Robin had been looking at her best friend's girl more than she should have.

"I mean, yeah." Steve drums his hands on the steering wheel, and Robin wonders if he's even totally here right now, or if this conversation will fade in a few hours along with the smoke, "I'd have to ask her first, obviously, but after I told her about you—"

"Hold on,"—a sinking fear forms a pit in her stomach, swallowing some of the buzz—"told her what about me?"

Steve's eyes go wide, and he puts on a dismissive tone that Robin can see through immediately. "You know, that you like . . . girls."

"Steve!" Robin shouts, and she hits him again, but harder this time, "You cannot just out me to every girl you talk to."

He just rubs at his arm, big eyes looking hurt. "Hey, she's not just some girl! And, for the record, I was just telling her that there was no reason for her to worry about us—you know, 'platonic with a capital P' or whatever—and I may have let it slip that you, you know, were definitely uninterested in, uh, boys."

"Steve." Robin threads her fingers through her roots and tugs, but not even the sting can pull her out of this spiral.

"Listen! I just didn't want her to get jealous, you know, since we spend so much time together. Or think she couldn't trust me."

That piques her interest. "Was she jealous?"

"No, but I was trying to be proactive," —he stubs out the joint, dropping it in the cup holder to save for later, a harsh hand combing through his hair— "anyway, the point of all that is after I told her she told me that she actually likes girls, too."

Holy shit.

"Wait, what?" Robin's a mess of emotions, but two are at the forefront: an uneasy jealousy—because of course Steve would find the only other queer girl in the whole fucking state before she did—and a deep and abiding want in the pit of her stomach.

"Yup," —he pops the p at the end— "and she told me that she thinks you're pretty cute."

"Oh."

Pretty cute. Steve's watching her too closely, and Robin's skin feels sheer and sparkling, like he can see inside her head, can see how much she likes the idea, and how bad she wants to hear you say it yourself.

Her hands on your waist, tasting the cherry lip gloss you always wear, hearing you sigh those words again again again.

Pretty. Cute.

Robin interlaces her shaking fingers, stroking one thumb over the edge of the other, fizzing nerves around her heart. "I mean, do you think it would be . . . okay?"

"I'd have to ask her, like I said, but if she's down . . ."

He's staring at her, but Robin can't meet his gaze just yet, watching the rhythmic waves of Lover's Lake catch the light.

Steve sighs, putting a hand on her shoulder. When Robin finally looks at him, she's surprised to find so much warmth and understanding in his deep brown eyes.

"Listen, Munson told me about some party happening on the edge of town tonight—a bunch of freaks will be there, for sure—probably nobody we know. I'll talk to her about it before hand, and," —he gestures, like he's ushering her through an open door— "we'll see what happens."

Tramping through the muggy air, Robin locates the party by sound and—unfortunately—by smell, the soft green scent of the forest disappearing into something heavy and dirtier. Weed and cigarettes, bonfire smoke and beer, body odor and sex.

She looks at Steve as the heavy metal screech reaches them and he just rolls his eyes, taking a few more loping steps forward until the pyre at the middle of the clearing is visible through the trees.

Robin nudges him on the shoulder. "She said she's going to meet us here, right?"

Steve nods, scanning the crowd with his eyes from the edge of the party. Robin does the same, and there are no familiar faces, just like he'd said—a bunch of freaks. She tugs at the end of her t-shirt, craning her neck, but you're nowhere to be seen.

"Have you thought about, you know, what we talked about, uh, any more?" Steve's mumbled question reaches her over the music.

A fist of panic clenches tightly in the center of Robin's stomach, talking about you again now that she's sober. It strikes her that Steve is just nervous, rubbing anxiously at the back of his neck while he waits for her reply.

"Yeah, no, definitely,"—Robin's thought about it all day . . . a few different times, "and you're absolutely positive it's okay?"

"She said she wanted to," Steve says, "and I'm good if you're good."

Robin can't help the way her voice squeaks. "Yeah, no, I'm good. I'm definitely good."

"Steve!"

Robin turns to the sound of your voice—even if it's not her name you're calling—and her heart starts to race.

You're dressed casually, which puts her at ease, although she can't understand how you can make a t-shirt and a denim jacket look so undeniably cool, smiling wide as you approach.

Steve is on you as soon as you're within his reach, wrapping you in his arms, wasting no time before pulling you into an almost grossly-affectionate kiss.

Normally this was the point when Robin would look away. It's not that PDA bothered her so much; it was just that—while you didn't seem to care who was around when Steve stuck his tongue down your throat—Robin had always assumed that you probably didn't want an invested audience. And she could never tell how her looking would be interpreted, especially by perceptive little shits like Dustin.

But Dustin isn't here right now, and so Robin watches Steve's cupped hand stroke along your jaw, watches your wet, pink tongue slip into his mouth just before you bite down on his swollen bottom lip.

She hasn't parsed through the feelings that it gives her before you've pulled back.

"Hey, Robin!"

You've got her in your grip, arms around her waist until she's pressed up against all of you, warm skin and tits and perfume that makes her head spin.

You lean back, but only half way, hips still connected—the shape of you tangible through her jeans—smiling wide. "You want a drink?"

Robin doesn't want a drink, but the idea of having something to do with her hands appeals to her. "Uh, yeah, sure."

You glance over you shoulder, catching Steve's eye. "Why don't you go find us something, please?"

Steve just smiles, walking off with a raise of his eyebrows and a two-fingered salute in Robin's direction. You're not even looking at him, stroking your palms over Robin's wrists, intertwining your fingers.

"You're like fucking ice, babe. Let's go stand by the fire."

You weave expertly though the party, leading Robin by the hand. The fire's huge—stacked high with pallets and cardboard boxes and branches like thick, charred arms reaching towards the sky. It warms her skin like the sun never set, just got small and decided to join a party in the middle of nowhere, Indiana.

You're still touching her, leaning in close so you can whisper right up against her ear.

"I hope you don't mind that Steve told me about you."

"No, it's fine," every breath she takes is hot and full of smoke, but that's not why her lungs are burning, "I was totally fine with it, obviously. I mean it's not like it's a big deal or anything—"

The tip of your finger traces up over the back of her arm, across her neck, and anything else she could have or should have said is miles out of orbit. Robin shivers as you secure a few loose hairs behind her ear.

"Can I kiss you?" you ask, studying her with fire-lit eyes.

Robin's adrenaline spikes as she glances around, skin crawling, searching for the familiar burn of a disapproving glare. "Here?"

You take her chin in your hand, turning her back to you. "Nobody's looking."

But that's not true. With a glance over your shoulder, Robin can see that people are looking, and—even stranger—none of them seem to care that there are two girls standing this close, staring at each others lips.

"Yeah. Okay."

You've got soft hands and soft eyes and a soft smile, fingers laced at the back of Robin's neck as you pull her in closer, catching the edge of her mouth against your own.

Robin leans in, kissing you back, her lips parting—from shock, and from need—tasting that cherry lip gloss and beer and your hot, soft mouth.

Robin's kissed boys before. Or at least, she's been kissed by boys before, twice exactly—back when she was young and afraid and had no idea how to say no. And it always left her with a sick feeling in her stomach after, tossing and turning as she tried to fall asleep later that night, tears leaking into her pillow because it didn't feel the way she knew it was supposed to, and what if that meant she was broken?

The first time she kissed a girl was different. Cast party after the school play her freshman year—Robin had only been in the ensemble but Nicky Kramer was the leading lady, a little loud and ditzy but the kind of pretty that got her heart racing, and the voice of a goddamn angel.

They'd been playing spin-the-bottle with a little self-awareness, giggling more about how stupid it was to play a game for middle-schoolers than the chaste (or sometimes not-so chaste) kisses between friends. When Robin spun, she'd been so sure she imagined the tip of the prop coke bottle pointing directly at Nicky—a fever dream where she got what she wanted.

"You have to spin again," someone called out, "it landed on a girl."

She knows now that Nicky wanted the attention—wanted to do something that would shock and impress, even if it was at Robin's expense—but she still can't shake the image of her in that big, white wedding dress that somebody's mom donated for the final act, shuffling across the backstage on her knees until they brushed against her own.

The racing of Robin's heart was the final confirmation to what she had already known—she was different. She wanted this. And for five glorious seconds, she had it.

Then Nicky had fallen back with a dramatic squeal, wiping at her lips with both silk-gloved hands, screaming eww while the others laughed and Robin tried to hold back tears.

After that, she'd been certain that she'd never want to kiss someone who wanted to kiss her back.

So maybe she's a little aggressive, taking your face in both her hands, pressing her lips hard enough to yours that it must hurt, but that doesn't matter because it gets you to part your lips, and now Robin can feel your breath in her mouth, taste the air from your lungs. Your slick, silky tongue slides across her own, and her knees shake, threatening to buckle at the feeling. Your lips shine with her spit when you pull away.

"Woah."

Steve is back, staring wide-eyed, the two red solo cups in his hands slipping from his grip, practically forgotten.

"Thanks babe," you peck him on the cheek, taking one of the cups in his hand before it drops and passing it to Robin. "I'm gonna find something to smoke. Be right back."

Robin watches Steve—waiting for him to say something about this being a bad idea—but he just laughs, knocking the plastic edge of his cup against her own.

"Yeah, okay—take it easy there, tiger. The night is still young."

And it goes on like that, hours passing by in emptied cups of beer and joints rolled by Eddie's slim, talented fingers shrinking into ash. You stay sandwiched between Robin and Steve, kisses shared evenly, his mouth buried against your neck while you peck at Robin's lips, your hands at her waist and it feels even better than she thought it might. She can hear your whisper in her bones.

"Wanna get out of here?"

Steve drives. You join Robin in the back seat, straddling her hips, her back pressed hard against the leather seats as she mouths at your neck, occasionally catching flashes of street lights and Steve's eyes in the rear view.

"You're really good at this," you whisper, knees squeezing her hips as Steve pulls the car to a stop.

"Oh, wow. Really?"

You laugh at her disbelieving tone, brushing some hair from her eyes. "Yeah."

Steve helps you from the car. You're steady on your feet, walking up the long driveway to Steve's unlit front porch. Robin feels wired, clenching an unclenching her hands into fists—testing to make sure she's still real while Steve gets the door.

His room is still dark when Robin reaches it, slatted moonlight drawing lines across his bedspread. You're spread out across the top leaning back on your elbows, ankles crossed, posed like a pinup girl in a magazine ad.

"So," you ask, shooting her a wink, "how do you want me?"

Robin's looking for guidance, but Steve's giving her free reign. Leaning up against his dresser, he just watches, hands pressed deep inside his pockets. "It's up to you, dude."

"You could- you could take your top off . . . I mean, if that's okay?"

"Whatever you want," you just smile, patting the bed beside you, "wanna help me?"

Robin sits on the mattress beside you, trying not to think about all the time Steve's undressed you in this same place. Help must mean do it for me, because you're kissing her again, guiding one hand to the hem of your t-shirt.

Robin's fingers are cold, but you don't seem to mind, a little sigh on your lips at the way they brush up against your rib cage, over the band of your bra.

You have to pull away to fit your head through the neck hole, and then Robin's stuck with your still-warm top balled up in her hands and her eyes on your tits.

"Oh. Wow."

You press your arms in tighter against your chest, exaggerating the line of cleavage for her benefit. Robin gasps at the way you start to spill from the lace cups, at the slightest hint of perky nipple she can see past the fabric.

"And—and the bra?"

You reach for the clasp, shimmying one strap forward, and then the other.

"Holy shit."

She's trying not to be a creep, but Robin already knows she's never gonna stop staring at your tits. Not when she knows that they look just as good as she thought they might without all those clothes covering them up, not when she's watching your nipples pebble up in the chill air.

"Right?"

Robin jumps; she hadn't felt Steve climb onto the mattress beside her, watching you with the same admiration. He nods towards your chest. "You can touch her, if you want."

Yeah, she wants. You lean toward her open palm until skin meets skin, her hand chill against the warm weight of your breast, squeezing a little until she can hear your slow breaths grow faster.

Robin's always suspected that Steve had been over-hyping certain aspects of sex, (nothing could be that good) but titties definitely deserved more credit than he'd given them.

Steve is watching, hungry-eyed, slapping his palms against his jeans until he can't resist any longer.

"Try this," he tells her, as he leans forward, fingers pinching at the nipple on your other breast. Robin's about to shove him off before she sees how you react, the tense muscles in your neck and the thick swallow that makes way for a breath so weighted its almost a moan.

"Yeah, okay," she quickly agrees, focusing her attention on the dark bud, mimicking Steve's movements, pinching and rolling it between her thumb and forefinger, ghosting the pad of her thumb over the tip.

And the sound you make this time is a moan.

"Use your mouth."

The throaty command comes from you, as you slide your body closer. Robin doesn't need to be told twice, dipping her head down until she can wrap her lips around where she'd just had her fingers.

Your skin is soft on her tongue, pillowing against her lips as she slowly sucks on the swollen bud. You press up against her mouth, fingers curling in her hair. She can feel your heartbeat fluttering against her cheek.

"God, just like that."

Steve pulls his hand back when he sees Robin coming for your other breast, cupping it in her palm before she kisses her way around the center, her fingers tugging at your other nipple, spreading her spit across your skin.

"Fuck, Robin," —she feels like she's dying when you say her name like that— "don't stop."

She won't. Dying with a pair of titties in her mouth seems like the only good way to go.

Steve is moving beside her; a big hand sneaking over your waist, down past the band of your jeans until it's swallowed between your thighs.

"That feel good, baby?"

Steve's voice is deep—raspier than Robin's ever heard it—and she feels the shape of him over her, kissing down along your jaw as you bump your hips up into his hand.

There's the wet sound of your mouth on his, and heavy breaths broken by your hum of agreement. The button of your pants slides from its place with a shining whisper between Steve's clever fingers.

"Let's get these off, yeah?"

Robin pulls back, watching as Steve slips your shorts down your hips, revealing the soft blue cotton you wear underneath, edged with lace and decorated with a sweet little bow.

Steve strokes his thumb across the top of your panties, just beneath the shadowed curve of your stomach, his hand planted at your hip.

His eyes are big and wide and totally fixed on this small point of contact, on the way your hips shift in anticipation against his sheets.

He looks up at you through heavy lashes. "Can I show Robin how to make you feel good?"

You nod, and he slips the fabric down, exposing the patch of curls between your legs. Robin's totally mesmerized, a little gasp on her lips when your thighs part and she can see the shiny, plush stretch of your pussy.

"Why don't you get these wet for me?"

Steve holds out two of his fingers, and you catch them between your lips, bobbing a little to until spit soaks the corners of your mouth. You take them almost all the way to the hilt, only gagging a little when Steve curls them at the back of your throat. There's moonlight caught in the tears at the corners of your eyes.

"Such a good girl."

Robin's not sure if it's those words that make you whine, or the gentle prodding of Steve's fingers, stroking smoothly up and down your lips until they're puffy and slick.

The tip of his middle finger slips just inside your entrance; Robin watches the way you open for him, the way your stomach goes tight, eyes wide with adoration. He pumps his hand slowly, growing wetter and shinier each time he pulls it out, squishy sounds echoing from your cunt when he finally reaches the hilt.

"You wanna start slow," Steve says, narrating his movements for Robin, although both of them can't seem to look away from your slowly leaking pussy, "start with one finger, then work your way up to two."

He takes his own advice, sliding a second finger in past your lips. Your back arches, lashes fluttering against your cheeks. Robin's whole body feels like static, like a TV screen gone fuzzy.

"Tell her how it feels," Steve commands, and you whimper, falling back on your elbows.

"So good, daddy. Don't stop."

Robin's eyes flash, mouth puckered in delighted surprise, and for a second she forgets there's a fucking naked woman in the room, watching Steve's cheeks turn ruddy.

Daddy? She mouths the word, eyebrows raised. Steve ignores her, focusing all his attention on the place where his fingers meet your cunt.

"This is the clit," he says quickly, brushing his thumb over the apex of your pussy.

"I know where the clit is, Steve," Robin snaps, momentarily distracted from the whole daddy thing. Whatever—she'd bring it up later.

"You wanna be gentle here, too, 'cause you can always go harder if they ask, but it ruins the mood if you hurt them."

His other hand snakes over from the place it had been resting on your thigh. "Once you've worked up to it though, pinching at it really drives her wild."

He traps your clit between his thumb and forefinger, rolling the little bud, and your steady moans are growing louder until Robin can't hear anything else besides her own heartbeat in her ears.

"Gonna cum," you tell Steve, clutching at your own breasts, fingers playing expertly with your nipples, still sticky with Robin's spit.

Robin's frozen in place, hands curled into tight fists and plunged deep into Steve's mattress. Her lungs have gone shallow, and it's impossible to take enough air in, watching you cum around Steve's fingers.

Fuck.

Steve wastes no time slipping his hand from between your thighs, sucking the taste of you from his skin, like it's totally not even a big deal. Like he does this all the time.

He probably does.

He must not notice that Robin's only a few seconds away from combusting, or she's better at hiding than she gives herself credit for.

"You wanna try?" he asks casually, hand stroking up and down your inner thigh while you twitch against the sheets.

Robin's almost too stunned to speak. "Are- are you sure that's okay?"

Steve just shrugs. "Of course. She'll be looser after the first one, so the second will come easier. Or you know," —he grins— "however many she wants."

God, is this the fucking Twilight Zone? Robin's got a little more than a fifty percent success rate making herself cum, and Steve's been out here giving you multiple orgasms a night.

How had it taken him so long to find a girlfriend?

He let's Robin ponder that question, leaning down over you, one big hand poised at your waist as he kisses you sweetly. Your breathing is steady again, chest done heaving, but sweat still shines across your skin and down your stomach—remnants of the way he'd been making you feel.

"Do you want Robin to make you cum?" he whispers, strands of his hair falling into your face from the way he's laying over you, brushing against your forehead as you nod.

You stare at her with the biggest, wettest eyes she’s ever seen, another needy whine on your lips.

As if she could say no to that.

Robin shifts onto the sheets, parting your legs around her waist and situating herself as close as she can stand to your bare pussy. Steve's moved across from her on the other side, your head cradled in his lap.

He brushes a few stray hairs out of your face, pets a gentle hand down your shoulder. The look in his eyes seems to ask Robin if she's ready, and she nods, feeling anything but.

The salty tang of her fingers melts across her tongue; she'd have let you wet them, the same way you'd done for Steve, but she's trying to keep her focus. And that's the kind of distraction she doesn't need right now.

Robin wonders how all of your skin is so soft when she rests a tentative hand on your hip. She wonders if all girls have bodies that would dent this beautifully under her hand, or if that's just one more thing that makes you special.

She strokes lower, brushing the patch of hair between your thighs. If she wants to hear anymore of the noises you make, she'll have to hold her breath.

Her first finger slips between your lips, just brushing the wet opening of your cunt, and she swallows hard, trying and failing to catalogue all of the things she notices: the burn of your skin and the slippery wetness and little fluttering contractions.

"Keep going," Steve urges.

As Robin slips her first finger inside, she has a feeling she must be doing this wrong. There's none of the confidence she'd seen in Steve's movements—all tentative and shaky where he had been self-assured. His fingers are bigger than hers, each of his thrusts smoother and deeper.

But still, you clench around her and there's no denying it, a soft sigh on your lips when she brushes the pad of her pointer finger up against the soft front wall, curling just like Steve had told her to.

Your hips twitch on the bed, skin denting against her hand.

"God, Robin, don't stop."

That spurs her on, tentatively brushing her thumb against your swollen, red clit until you moan. It's not like how Steve had done it—not hard and confident and rough—but she's doing the job and you're reacting to her, desperate for her touch and that makes the confidence in her belly burn.

"Could I," —god, just saying the words have her sweating, and she hopes you won't notice how wet her palm is where she's holding your hip, "can I taste you?"

She'd been thinking about the idea all day. Hand shoved under the waistband of her jeans, she'd thought about burying her face between your thighs, about circling her tongue around your clit until you sobbed and begged her for more.

Robin's shoulders sink without her thinking about, hips shifting until she's at eye-level with your juicy cunt, watching it stain the bedspread a darker blue with each thrust of her fingers.

Her eyes meet yours past the swell of your stomach, past Steve's hands kneading each of your tits, chest rising and falling with the heaving breaths you take.

"Yeah," you nod wide-eyed, licking your lips. Robin's never seen you shy like this, quiet with want as your hands twist into the sheets.

She bends her head down, smelling sweat and skin and leftover traces of campfire, pressing a kiss to the junction between your stomach and your thigh, trailing lower, growing bolder. Your skin squishes perfectly between her lips and the nip of her teeth, her nose buried in the coarse hair of your cunt.

Her tongue just breaches her lips, stealing the salt from your skin before pressing deeper, stroking against your swollen bud. She familiarizes herself with the shape of it, circles it with her tongue. The muscles in her hand grow sore when she tries to keep you still.

"Uh uh, baby," —she hears Steve's voice past the crush of your thighs, and she glances up, watching as he peels your wrists away from your face— "you gotta let me see you. I wanna see how good Robin is making you feel."

Steve pins your hands to the sheets, and Robin goes molten, uncontainable, as you squirm against both her hold and Steve's, absolutely overwhelmed by the pleasure of their attention.

She latches onto your cunt with renewed vigor, sucking deeply at your clit, pumping her fingers in and out of you until you've soaked her hand and you can't stay still when she’s touching you, just like she'd hoped.

"Tell Robin how good she's doing, baby, " Steve's low voice commands, and Robin's in flames at your high, keening praise.

"So good, fuck, Robin. Gonna make me cum- gonna cum."

She can feel it. Feels you trembling around her, the tight anticipation in every facet of your skin, and her own hips rut against the sheets because making you feel good makes her feel good.

You cum on her fingers with a gush and a throaty moan, curling around her until her head is cradled in your lap.

Her breathing is almost as shaky as yours.

"Was- was that good?" she asks. There's laughter on your lips when you pull her in for a kiss.

She's vaguely aware that Steve's climbed off the bed when the mattress springs up without his weight, feels the brush of the t-shirt he tosses in your direction.

You pull the fabric over your top until it kisses your thighs, and Robin can't help but be fascinated by the domestic intimacy she's seeing—watching Steve brush his teeth with the bathroom door, how you bring him his glasses from the bedside table without being asked.

"Are you gonna stay the night?" you ask before drying your face in a towel.

She shifts, sitting on her hands. "Would that be . . . okay?"

And she's looking at Steve now because sharing his girlfriend might be one thing but sharing his bed could be another.

He just shrugs, grabbing another t-shirt from his closet, and a pair of sweats.

"You should stay," he tells her, tossing the clothes in her direction, "then I don't have to drive you home."

You peek around Steve, a playful smile on your face when you jump beside her on the bed. "If you stay, you can use my tits as a pillow."

And that's all the convincing she needs.

[iris-sistibly]

GOD! EPISODE 13 IS BITTERSWEET, but I think this is by far the episode where like 80-90% of the scenes were happy. So I love it!

📍I knew they'd find nothing in the panic room, it's kinda frustrating but what's new? At least Hyun-woo had a back-up plan to fuck up Eun-seong and I can't wait for him and his mother to rot in jail. But WAIT--hear me out, if Seul-hee finds out that Eun-seong went to Germany to follow Hae-in, this bitch would be livid and since she sees every member of the Hong family as an obstacle, she'll most likely going to do something to eliminate Hae-in. What if Eun-seong sacrifices himself and dies in the process to save her, then Mo Seul-hee will lose her mind and she'd spend the rest of her remaining days locked up in a mental asylum, alone and lonely. I think that would be a perfect ending for her and Eun-seong don't y'all think?

📍Aunt Beom-ja and hubby number 4 moments, Hae-in and Mama Hong slowly rebuilding their relationship, Baek and Hong parents being besties, Soo-cheol continuing to stand up for his family...I appreciate these little family moments so much I just don't want it to end.

📍Team QOT be blessing us with lots and lots of BaekHong moments!!! Ah, I feel so spoiled as a fan, I never considered their divorce as legit, but more like they went back to the way they were...you know, carefree, happy, being so in-love, making great memories. I love that they re-created the honeymoon scene in episode 1, then the first OST to ever be released (The Reasons of my Smiles by BSS) started playing in the background, it felt so nostalgic to me.

📍I also love the fact that Hae-in's parents, especially her mom didn't argue when Hae-in decided to move-in with Hyun-woo in his apartment. It feels like they are finally giving their full support and blessing for BaekHong to become a married couple. Also, those hubby and wifey moments made me smile a lot!

📍But Hyun-woo once again going above and beyond to make Hae-in happy 🥹🥹🥹 hubby really made the "snow fall in October" so wifey could witness it first hand, then hearing his most genuine laugh when Hae-in confessed that he was his first love was just the best. Those scenes were just so good it made me wish that they could stay like that.

📍But of course, those happy moments won't last because well...who says we can have it all? Now, if this was a typical Kdrama and the lead character would be put in Hae-in's situation, normally we could expect the lead character to take the risk and the other lead as well the people on their side would help her remember or perhaps create new memories. However, I do appreciate the fact that Park Ji-eun didn't romanticize that kind of situation but instead gave us the reality of how complicated it is to be in Hae-in's shoes. It's easy to say, "Oh it's fine Hyun-woo's gonna help her remember," and this guy bless his heart would be willing to do that, but what about Hae-in?

As much as I really, really want her to get the surgery, I do understand why she refused after finding out about the possible side effects. It's not just about losing her memories, it's about losing her loved ones. It's so fucking cruel because if she doesn't take the surgery, they'll lose her, if she does then it's the other way around. She could wake up becoming a completely different person, forgetting about how much she loves her family, her husband and it will hurt them really badly. She loves Hyun-woo so much that she doesn't want to lose that love she has for him in exchange for extending her life. If she loses that love, then what's the point of living? I still do hope for some miracle though, because she deserves to live a long life with Hyun-woo.

ANYWAY, Since episode 14 is coming up I am mentally and emotionally preparing myself for a pretty painful episode. Next week is finale week and I hope, I REALLY hope that BaekHong will get a happy ending they both deserve.

[anewp0tat0]

hey so who are your favourite characters in black butler? like a top ten or something

heyyyy thanks for asking! sure, always nice to cover the basics. ofc this will probably not be surprising to anyone who's heard me rant for a while now, but I'll explain it anyway.

top 3 first:

1. Ciel: an atrocious guy with very little social personality, and one of the best written protagonists I've personally read. I'm just really into digging through this guy's brain, and when he isn't destroying people he's doing things that end up being funny.

2. Sebastian: another well written protagonist, despite the fact that we know absolutely nothing about him other than the fact that his personality is "cats, I'm better than everyone, except for agni maybe". I remember in my first year in the fandom a friend and I had a like 2 hour long text conversation about how much we hated and loved Sebastian. terrible guy, couldn't have the series without him, leaves a lot to think about.

3. Grelle: she's just as if not more atrocious than the last 2 cause she made these awful decisions herself, but that doesn't stop me from respecting her work ethic and just thinking she's awesome in general. and aside from how cool she looks, I think her inner thoughts and relationships with her coworkers is so curious, there is a lot to explore here. compelling character for me.

and following:

4. Elizabeth: she's one of the purest characters out there and she is so complex. a good amount of people hate her or just find her annoying for whatever reason, but I think the trend here is that the more flawed the character is the better. she's trying so hard to please everyone. probably one of the most relatable characters in her own way.

5. Soma: the source of joy in my life, God I wish he was my friend. he and Agni are basically equal in my ranking, I think they're just the kid mentor duo, but unfortunately only one of them has the chance to keep developing... ;;;^;;;

6. Agni: "agni" was good every day of his life until the end. the only thing he did wrong was out of loyalty for Soma, Sebastian should be jealous of him cause he is all the butler that Sebastian will never be. plus he just cries sometimes and I respect that.

7. Ronald: this is such a fun guy, and yet I am capable of having long conversations about him and everything that he could have possibly been through, it has been done. his workplace dynamic is perfect. everyone needs a Ron.

8. Finny: another pure being, he's such an interesting and honestly rare character, I don't often see other people like him in media, so obviously he's interesting. he's one of the only characters in kuro who have deep trauma and yet doesn't act negatively on it, either because he's unable to comprehend it at length or because his love and positivity for all things is just stronger. also he's Ciel's big bro fr.

9. Meyrin: she's awesome, Hollywood and feminists alike wish they were able to write a strong female character like her😏 she's freakishly powerful and one of the most feminine people out there, and she deserves that after what she's been through. I will never stop supporting her, she's everyone's big sis and she's adorable.

10. Bard: proud dad to all the servants, he's the wacky beer uncle that we all wish we had. he's conservative but just give him some time cause he does care about people and what makes them happy.

hope this satisfies you and doesn't completely contradict your own list of favorites! have a good day