#but still it’d be nice if i could finish

[achilleslyre]

i am SO close to finishing naruto classic and i don’t know WHY this last stretch of episodes has been so difficult to finish watching. i watched the beginning suuuper fast and i couldnt wait till i had time to keep watching but ever since about episode 160ishhh it’s been taking so longggg to get thru and i can barely sit down to watch more than one or two episodes

[chlorinecake]

✰ don’t give me that look | l.at oneshot

pairing: switch! producer boyfriend! anton x sub! f. reader

🇨​​💿 ​​🇳​​🇹​​🇦​​🇮​​🇳​​🇸 ꗃ SIZE KINK, kissing, lap sitting, tit & clit play, anton records a sex-tape in the studio, unprotected sex (back shots), roughly 1.8k words … !?

a/n: for @antonitty and her delusions - hope u like it bae !!

You sat idly on the studio couch, admiring your boyfriend from afar as he silently toggled with the sound desk, mixing a few rhythms.

Crossing your legs, you eyed him up and down, taking in the view of his focused frame.

“You’re pretty good at flicking and twisting those knobs, y’know?… I wonder how nice it’d be if you used that same energy to please me…”

He let out a soft breath, eyes still trained on the soundboard as he spoke, “Babe, you know I’d rather spend time with you… I just have to produce this track sample before tomorrow…”

“And then?…”

“I’m all yours,” he finished, flashing you a promising look through his shaggy bangs.

“Fineeee,” you agreed in a sarcastic tone, slightly rolling your eyes at him, “but can you let me try something on the record first?… it might help…”

Anton quirked a brow, turning to meet your face with his own intrigued one, “You mean like… singing?”

You simply nodded in response, just before promptly getting up from the couch to sit on his lap at the music desk.

He didn’t know what to do with his hands now that you were this close to him, so he simply rested them at each arm of the spinning chair.

“You might even learn a thing or two from me if you pay attention,” you went on, knowing that he’d smile at your playful words.

“Go ahead then, superstar… blow me away,” he whispered tauntingly, keeping his thighs firm as you adjusted yourself on top of him.

With his headphones secured around his head, Anton prepared himself to hear whatever it was that you wanted to add to the track project.

Pressing the red “record” button, you let the instrumental play for a few moments as you got a feel of the beat, this one sounding more R&B compared to his usually chill rhythms.

You started by toggling in a few bass notes on the drum-pad, watching Anton’s reflection in the soundproof screen ahead for any sign of reaction.

So far, he only bobbed his head slowly, still anticipating your next move.

That’s when you picked up the mic, bringing it to your lips and letting out the most pornographic moan you could muster.

Anton’s hands flew from the chair arms to take off his headphones, reaching forward to pause the track recording as you suddenly burst into a fit of giggles.

“Babe, what the hell?” He blushed, covering his face with one hand as butterflies rushed through his stomach, the sound of your moan replaying in his mind over and over, “this is serious, y’know?”

You turned around in his lap, taking in your boyfriend’s shy demeanor as you fought to hold back the laughter growing in your chest.

“What? Was it bad? I can do better if you want me to…,” you pouted, batting your eyelashes at him as he put his hands behind his head, slightly smirking at you despite the evidently nervous red flush of his cheeks, “you can even help me...”

“Don’t give me that look, ____,” he sighed, voice sounding a bit more raspy while still maintaining its usual softness.

Was it nerves?

Was he horny?…

Either way, it didn’t matter to you because he sounded so fucking hot right now—

“What look?” you pressed with a feigned expression of innocence before very intentionally wiggling in his lap a bit.

“Like you wanna be fucked,” Anton said with a wince at your actions, letting his eyelids fall slightly while looking down at you with a clenched jaw.

You couldn’t believe those words had left his mouth so smoothly, his confidence alone causing you to squeeze your thighs together, already feeling so eager for him…

You couldn’t handle it when he behaved so switchy with you… starting off all shy before gradually becoming more and more bold.

His eyes eventually wandered back to the soundboard, so you took it as an opportunity to change the subject.

“You never told me if it was bad or not,” you started in the silence, mind just now becoming aware of Anton slowly getting harder beneath you.

“Well,” he hummed, letting his hands leave his head and slip down to your hips, “it was a solid 50-50, if I’m being honest…”

You scoffed dramatically, an offended hand flying to your chest, “How so?”

“Because… I always love the sounds you make for me, but not when you force them…”

His grip on your hips was firm now, holding you in place before just barely rocking you against his lap in skilled motions.

Despite the simplicity of his actions, your body started to feel dizzy with desire, mind fogging up as his clothed tip continued grinding beneath your core.

“Anton—”

“Shhh,” he interrupted, the feeling of his breath below your ear making you internally shiver, a feathery yet steady groan escaping his lips.

“Can I try something now?” he asked breathlessly, even though the question sounded more like a declaration than a proposal of permission.

“Mhmm,” you nodded submissively, eyes feeling heavy as the warmth amongst your bodies only grew, thanks to how stuffy the studio was.

Clicking the sound desk back on “record,” Anton slipped his headphones over your head, feeling himself get even hotter at how cute you looked in this moment, his chunky earmuffs barely fitting around your much smaller head.

By now though, Anton had easy access to your lower half, given the high-pleated-skirt you decided to wear that day.

You almost felt like half of your body escaped to another planet when Anton’s touch started to wander lower, his hands practically covering the entire expanse of your exposed thighs given how big they were.

His breath remained steady in this moment, despite how his heart kept stuttering like a broken record.

Or perhaps, a sexually excited one…

The subtle movements of your legs helped Anton to shimmy your panties down past your hips, all the way down to your ankles, and eventually the floor.

You sat with your soaking wet core atop your boyfriend’s lap now, two of his fingers soon finding your clit in slow, circular motions.

The thing was, Anton had finally let his intrusive thoughts win, having wanted to get a genuine recording of your moans for a while.

The idea always meddled in the back of his mind whenever you pranced into the studio while he was working on beats…

However, the only issue now was that you were feeling a bit shy with the recorder on again…

“C’mon baby, lemme hear you,” the boy nearly begged, words sounding a bit mumbled with the way he was kissing along your neck.

“I know you want to,” he taunted, free hand sliding up to grope your left tit while his other hand continued toying with your pussy, “no wonder you wore this slutty skirt for me today…”

His voice… it practically intoxicated you… the way it sounded so pure yet so condescending at the same time…

“F-fuck,” you stammered with a moan, furrowing your brows as his fingers applied pressure to your clit, the other hand slightly pinching your nipple as he knew just how to get you to those pretty sounds that he wanted out of you.

“Good girl~,” he whispered in a cooing manner, “but I know you can do better than that…”

He guided you to stand up on your wobbly legs, his fingers meddling with your slick as he towered behind you.

And although your ears were still muffed with his headset, you could clearly make out the sound of his belt unbuckling with tingly clinks, your pussy only pulsing with need.

Before you could even beg to be fucked, you felt one of Anton’s hands hike up your skirt, the other forcing your back to arch over the sound board as his hard length pressed between your folds.

He was way too fucking big, but part of you liked the idea of him potentially breaking you.

It wasn’t easy, but your boyfriend eventually slipped himself inside, letting his tip tease along the ridges of your heat before picking up the pace, the soft pants and occasional groans from his body sounding loud and clear thanks to the headphones you wore.

There was also something about hearing your own moans so audibly on top of his… hearing how he turned you into a whiny mess so easily…

Anton’s hazy eyes met your fucked out reflection in the glass screen ahead, your own vision wandering off to the sound wave reader on his music board.

The way it’s lines heightened with each desperate moan that left your sweaty bodies did nothing but crazy things to the knot tightening in your stomach.

“Touch me, Anton,” you practically whimpered, voice coming out in small hiccups given how hard he was pounding into you.

His hands were already so tight around your waist, but your whiny request let him know exactly where you wanted him… where you needed that extra intensity.

He went to grope your tits, lifting your body away from the sound board with ease as the sight of his flexed biceps nearly made you drool.

The pace of his hips remained fast and controlled as he continued fucking into you, the tip of his cock reaching so deep that you’re sure you felt it in your belly button.

Looking down, Anton saw that the recording had reached just over 3 minutes, despite how your pussy desperately clenched around him, a clear sign that you were close to finishing.

His mouth was full of saliva, not even remembering to swallow given how pleasure drunk he was right now.

And somehow, you caught onto this, turning your neck at an angle and guiding his plush lips to kiss you, only a few seconds passing before he inserting his tongue, grunting into your mouth.

“You sound so pretty, baby,” he said in between kissing you sloppily, right before taking his headphones off your head and tossing them on the couch, still connected to the music desk by a thin black wire, “listen…”

He whispered the last word against your lips, maintaining the most gentle look in his eyes as he kept bouncing your ass on his cock.

You meant to say something, but the weak cries of pleasure kept stalling your speech, the words becoming a jumbled mess in your head.

Anton’s strength helped to hold up your shaky body just as you felt your release gush around him, a bit of it seeping onto his thighs as he continued thrusting.

It didn’t take long for him to cum after that too, a beautiful series of moans spilling from his lips as he panted over you, letting his hand slide away to end the recording.

The screen read ‘5:18s’ before Anton reached over to save the track, leaving both of you shocked that you even finished that fast together…

Still a panting mess, your boyfriend held your hips close to his, letting his weight fall back in the spinning chair with you on top of him.

“We should totally do quickies in the studio more often,” you huffed tiredly, leaning back against Anton’s chest as he hugged you close, still inside your pussy.

“Not that I’m disagreeing with you, but maybe after I install an air conditioner in here, we can plan something,” he smiled, not even bothering to wipe the sheen of sweat from his face that inevitably kept your hot bodies clung together.

Your hand found his, fingers idly toying with the rings he wore as he adjusted himself beneath you, “I should probably let you get back to work now since I’ve distracted you enough already—”

“Let’s just stay like this for a little longer,” he interrupted, almost yawning at how comfortable he felt buried inside you in this moment, “please?”

“Of course, superstar,” you replied playfully, nestling into his warmth and letting your eyes fall shut as you listened to the sound of his gentle heartbeat…

✶ taglist: @squoxle, @nikisdubblchococake, @wonbinisbabygurl, @ashgonedash @yourmomscuntis2tighy @watamotee33 @ot7sevenlvr

✶ 🎀 ✶ check out more works like this on my RIIZE masterlist !!

[moonstruckme]

Heyyy there! I really (like really) love your writing!!! It makes my day when I see you've posted a fic! I was wondering if I could request one either with doc!remus or emtxmaradeurs where the reader is very sick and kinda out of it and she's taken care of. Like maybe he/them asking her 'are you with me/us' becuase it looks like you're going to pass out. If you've written something like this before my apologies. Have a great day!!!

Thanks lovely, hope you have a great day as well!

emt!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 670 words

When Remus and James get home from their shift, they find you and Sirius curled up on the couch, you with a mug of what appears to be noodle soup steaming in your hands. You’re taking sips of it like it’s tea. 

“Hello,” says Remus, perching on the armrest to peck his boyfriend on the head. “You two aren’t where we left you.” 

“One can only lie around in bed for so many hours,” Sirius replies, tilting his head back for a real kiss. Remus gives him one, and Sirius takes another for himself. “I’m very entertaining, but after a while we both needed a change of scenery.” 

“And why is our girl drinking soup like a warm beverage?” James directs the question towards you, but you don’t seem to notice. After a moment, Sirius answers for you. 

“She wasn’t doing very well with the spoon, and though I made some excellent points about how romantic it’d be, she wouldn’t let me feed it to her.” Sirius grins salaciously at you. You offer only a faint smile in return, and he squishes your thigh in his hand teasingly. “Eventually we had to compromise on a more innovative solution.” 

“I see.” James ducks his head, finding his way into your field of vision. “Sweetheart,” he says carefully, “are you with us?” 

You blink. Your eyes look fever glazed. “Yeah.” You match his gentle tone. “Hi.” 

He smiles softly. “Hey there. You seemed a bit far away, m’love.” 

“She’s only tired.” Sirius kisses the side of your head. “We’ve just had a nap.”

“Oh, must be nice,” James jokes. You smile in response. 

Remus frowns pensively as he plays with Sirius’ hair where it’s draped over the edge of the couch. It spills through his fingers like stygian water. “What’s her fever at?” he asks. 

“It’s coming down.” Sirius nods to the fever reducers sitting next to a half-empty bottle of cough syrup on the coffee table. “We’re working on it.” 

“What was it last you checked?” James presses, but Remus has already picked up the thermometer. He murmurs a quiet direction to you as he nestles it in your ear.

“Her cough’s gotten a lot better, too, if you haven’t noticed,” Sirius says proudly. “Right, babydoll? We haven’t been having many problems since the last time she had medicine.” 

That’s not saying much, James thinks as he looks around. There are still wadded up tissues strewn about the coffee table, enough that he wonders whether one of them ought to go buy more before you all get ready for bed, and even if your cough has abated the scrape of your voice indicates your throat still feels like you’ve swallowed knives. 

Still, he tries to sound upbeat as he says, “Yeah? That’s great,” and kisses your shoulder lightly. 

“I can see why you’re so tired,” Remus says. The thermometer beeps, and his brow pinches sympathetically as he reads the screen. “That nap was the first good sleep you’ve had in a while, hm, dovey?” 

“Yeah,” you say, your voice a thin rasp. “I still have to turn over every now and then when my nose clogs up, though.” 

“Poor love,” James coos, kissing your shoulder again. “I’m about to have a shower, would you want to sit in the bathroom with me and see if the steam does anything? I could use the company.” 

“That’s a good idea,” Remus agrees. “After you’ve finished your soup, though.” 

You give James a sweet, thoughtful look. “That would be nice,” you say. The sound of your voice makes him want to burst into tears. “Thank you guys for taking care of me.” 

Sirius makes an indignant squawking sound. “Um, that’s actually been me, in case you’ve forgotten. These two sods only just got here.” 

“Sorry.” You crack a smile, sleepy but real, and lean your head on Sirius’ shoulder. “Thank you the most.” 

He hums, quickly pacified, and lets his head rest atop yours. “Apology accepted. Luckily for you, I actually quite enjoy it.”

[sp0o0kylights]

Part Two / Part Three

Ao3

It's 8:45 am. 

The Red Barn, which is neither red nor a barn, has been open since 7, catering to the early morning crowd with rounds of coffee and pancakes.

It was no Benny's, but given the size of Hawkins and the lack of alternatives?

No one was complaining. 

They were all too happy someone had opened up another watering hole for the working class man (or lass, as Foreman Shelly will dutifully remind you) which meant the place was packed with both day and night shift regulars, passing each other in staggered waves. 

It also meant Wayne was sharing the packed breakfast counter with a warehouse worker by the name of John Cheese on one side and Police Chief Jim Hopper on the other.

He doesn't mind it.

Wayne's a man on a budget thinner than his shoelace, but he's also a man who understands that small indulgences need to be made in life or you didn't truly live it.

This is how he convinces himself to get a coffee at the Barn after work everyday, reading the morning newspaper and chatting with the other regulars before he heads home.

Bonus, it gets him out of the rapid-fire franticness that is his nephew in the mornings.

(All the love in the world wouldn't change the fact that all that Eddie came with a lot of noise. 

The kind of noise that was a tried and true recipe for a headache right after a long shift.)

As a trade off, Wayne went to bed early so he could wake up in time for dinner with Eddie.

 It was a nice little system that worked for them. 

A routine Wayne was reminiscing fondly on, when the pager on Chief Hopper started to chirp. With a sad moan, the man fished out a few crumbled bills and threw them on the counter, abandoning his coffee to trudge out to his truck.

This was not unusual.

Particularly recently, given they were but a scant few weeks past that whole mall ordeal. A fact all too easy to remember when one caught sight of the Chief’s still healing face. 

What was unusual, was when he came storming through the doors a minute later, face now a furious shade of red with his hat clenched in his hand. 

The energy in the room shifted, taking on something a little watchful as Hopper swept his gaze from side to side, like a dog on the hunt.

Judging by the way he stilled when he caught sight of Wayne, the latter assumed he found what he was looking for and could only pray it was the person behind him. 

(He liked John, but Wayne had enough trouble this year and he wasn't looking for any more.) 

"Munson." Hopper called, striding over and dashing all his hopes. There was a choked fury emitting off him, and given the way John audibly scooted his chair away, Wayne knew everyone had clocked it. 

"Chief." Wayne greeted, inclining his head towards him.

Idly he wondered what the hell his nephew had done this time.

'So help me if he stole all the town's lawn flamingos and put them in that damn teachers yard again….'

Wayne didn't even get to finish his threat, the Chief was already next to him. 

"Mind if I have a word outside?" 

Dammit Eddie.

"Ah hell, what's he done now?" Wayne asked with a sigh, eyeing the coffee he had left morosely. 

There was still almost half of it left and the pot had tasted fresh for once. 

"What?" Hopper said, and then Wayne got to watch as the man ran through an entire chain of thoughts, each one punctuated by things like; "Oh," and "No. " 

"This is something else." He finished, flushed and fidgeting, anger making him antsy. 

Wayne stared up at him. 

"Something else?" He repeated, not sure he heard.

"Yes, something else." Hopper snapped impatiently, before leaning forward, voice dropping low. "This doesn't involve your nephew, but we both know you owe me for how many times I've let that kid off, Wayne. That's a damn big favor I've been doing you and I'm calling it in." 

If it were any other cop, it'd sound like a threat.

It was Hopper though. The same Hopper who Wayne had gone to school with.

They'd never been friends exactly, but they had been friendly and remained so. Even now, after Wayne had taken Eddie in, who’d gone on to be an undeniable pain in the local PD’s ass. 

Hopper really did let the kid off easy. 

Wayne really did owe him. 

So he put down his coffee with a sigh, passed his newspaper over to John and stood up, motioning for Hopper to lead the way. Got into the Chief’s truck when he waved him in, and didn’t make a big fuss when Hopper tore out of the parking lot like hell was about to open up under them. 

"Not a lot of the kids involved in the mall fire could be identified, but a few of them were." Hopper started, which felt nonsensical given the utter lack of context. 

Wayne hummed to show he’d heard. 

“Some of them got banged up more than others, and a lot of people wouldn’t be surprised if they didn’t make it.” 

A pause, Hopper white knuckling the steering wheel as he swung the truck hard around a turn. 

“For certain people, those kids dying is the preferred outcome.” 

A mix of fear and warning swopped low in Wayne’s gut. 

"Jim." Wayne said, dropping the use of a last name because if any situation called for it, it was this one. "What exactly are you saying here?" 

The Chief chewed on his split lip. 

"I know you're smart, Munson. I know you, and plenty of others are aware that something's happening, been happening in this town." 

Which was a hell of an understatement if you asked Wayne. Plenty of the upper classes might be able to bury their heads when it came to the military parading about and the flow of “accidents” they brought in their wake, but then, they didn't see all the other signs of trouble. 

The absolute oddity that was Starcourt’s construction. 

How it had been built using primarily outside crews and anyone who'd taken a singular look at the site could tell you they were building it weird. 

Weird as in it looked like it would have a multi-level basement, and not what a mall should have. 

Then there were the constant electrical problems. The backups upon backups that failed. The late night delivery vans headed out to the Hawkins Lab. 

The things in the woods that kept spooking all the deer and the weird markings they left behind that unnerved even the hardest of hunters. 

This didn’t even touch the Russian military that more than one reputable person swore was hanging around. 

The very same Wayne himself had seen, on more than one occasion. 

(And you couldn’t deny it; those boys were military. Past or present, it didn’t matter. They moved like a threat, and Wayne treated them like one, staying well clear.)

"Yeah." Wayne admitted. "I also know better than to stick my nose in it." 

"That makes you a smarter man than me.' Hop complained under his breath, but the anger was self directed. 

"The point is, there are some government types crawling around, doing shit they shouldn't be doing, and more than a few of them are in the business of making people disappear.” 

This was absolutely not where Wayne had thought this was going. 

Hopper took a breath. Than another.

A third.

It was starting to make Wayne nervous, in a way he hadn’t felt since a social worker had brought Eddie to him for the last time and final time. It was the feeling that things were about to shift in a way that would change the course of his life. 

"Steve Harrington is sitting in my office right now, beat to absolute shit.” Hopper admitted.

Wayne gave him the floor to talk, letting him go at his own pace without interruptions. 

“He's there because some of those government types finally figured out his parents are never fucking home.” 

Wayne sucked in a breath. 

"We both know his parents, Wayne. Harassing them to come back and take care of their kid won't work, and frankly, I’m beginning to think all the phone lines are tapped anyway.” He winced here, like voicing such a thing pained him, and Wayne understood.

It sounded a little too out there, a little like he was buying into a conspiracy. 

Except he wasn’t. Wayne knew he wasn’t. 

Jim Hopper might have been an alcoholic, a man living in pain and unconcerned with his own life, but if there was one thing he was solid for, it was shit like this.

He didn’t jump to conclusions. Didn’t believe the first thing people told him. Even at his worst, he did the work to see what was really happening, and made his decisions from there. 

(Even if that decision was to accept the occasional bribe, or drive an intoxicated 13 year old Eddie home instead of hauling his ass into the drunk tank.) 

“Harrington won’t admit it, but he’s got a hell of a concussion if not a full blown brain injury and he’s not reacting as well as he should to Suites trying to run him off the road.” Hopper continued. Angrily, he added, “Damn kid didn’t even come to me until they tried to break into his house last night.” 

His fingers squeezed the wheel so hard Wayne heard the leather creak in protest. 

“I’d take him, but my cabin is being renovated from…” He trailed off, heaving a sigh.

 “A storm, so me and my kid are bunked with the Byers right now and we’re full up.” 

Hawkins hadn't had a storm like that in years, but Wayne wasn't going to call him out on the blatant lie. 

“I need a place to stash him for the next few weeks, until I can work with some of the higher ups sniffing around, and get them to call off their attack dogs.” 

“And you want to stuff him with me.” Wayne finished. 

“I know you don’t have the room.” Hopper admitted easily, stopping his truck at a red light and locking eyes with the other man. “But I also know you’ll be the last place anyone would look for him.” 

'Ain’t that the damn truth.'

“You’re really gonna go this far for a Harrington?” Wayne asked, instead of the million of other questions leaping to the forefront of his mind. 

This one, he figured, was the most important. 

“He’s not his dad.” Hopper said, as firm as Wayne had ever heard him. “He’s not either of his parents, and he saved my little girl.” 

Wayne hadn’t even known Hopper had another little girl, but he also knew better than to ask where the guy had found one. 

It wasn’t his business, just as nothing else Jim was involved in, was his business.

Except, apparently, Steve Harrington. 

“I’m gonna need my own truck if I’m takin' Harrington home.” Wayne said easily, instead of bothering to ask anything else.

If Jim said the kid was different than his daddy, then he was--because when it came to things like that, Jim didn't lie.

No point in it. 

“I know. Just needed to talk to you first, without anyone overhearing.” Jim said, before swinging the police truck around and heading back to the Barn. 

“I’ll stay in contact with you, and I’ll make sure Harrington pays you for the pleasure of your hospitality. Just--” Here Jim cut himself off, looking like he was struggling an awful lot with the next thing he wanted to say. 

Once again, Wayne waited him out.

“Don’t let Steve fool you. He’s good at fooling people, letting them think he’s okay. Too good at it, and between the two of us, I have a real good idea of the reason why.” 

A memory came to Wayne unbidden, of Richard Harrington and Chet Hagan, beating some poor kid in the highschool bathroom bloody. The grins on their faces as the poor guy wailed for them to stop.

How they almost hadn’t. 

“Alright.” Wayne agreed.

Hopper swung back into the Barn's parking lot, and Wayne moved right to his own beat to shit truck, ready to follow Jim back to the police station.

He wasn’t a praying man, not anymore, but Catholisim wasn’t a thing that let you go easy. 

He found himself sending up a quick prayer, fingers flicking in a kind of miniature version of the sign of the cross. 

Considering his own kid’s history with Harrington, and the sheer small space of the trailer? 

Wayne had a feeling it was needed.

[girlokwhatever]

Ugh I’ve become obsessed with Paige. I actually showed a friend a video of her trying to explain my crush and the first thing she said was “wow, I didn’t expect her voice to be so deep”. I’m likeeeee SEE 🫠

For a request how about a late night call with Paige while she’s out of town. That voice in your ear, saying all the things she wish she could do and will do when she gets home. 😈

ᯤ༉‧₊˚.*ੈ✩‧₊˚‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊ on the phone,,

paige bueckers x fem!reader

you were in your bed getting ready to finally lay down after the long day you had. paige’s side of the bed was left empty and cold ever since she left for an away game. it’d only been two days and she’d probably be back tomorrow, but you still miss her an unbelievable amount.

your head hits the pillow when your phone starts ringing, paige’s name spoken loudly in the air by your phone. it startles you a little, not expecting to hear from her again today.

you reach over and answer it, pulling the phone close to your ear. “paige?”

“hey ma, how are youuu?” she drags out the ‘you,’ making it evident she’s happy and in a cheerful mood. you can’t help but smile just by picturing her face.

“i’m good, about to go to bed actually.”

“not yet. i wanna talk to you for a little bit. i’ve missed you.” her tone changes with the last few words, voice lowering in a seductive manner. it already has you turning in bed as the heat creeps up your body, the tone all too familiar to you.

“i’ve missed you too p.”

there’s a pause on paige’s side of the phone, silence filling the line. you hear her labored breath fanning over the microphone and wonder if she’s just as worked up as you are right now, even though she hasn’t actually done anything.

“i’m so excited to come home tomorrow baby. can i tell you something?”

“anything.”

“i wanna fuck you so bad right now.”

“oh-” you have no time to speak because she’s cutting you off immediately to follow up on her statement.

“when i get home, fuck- you have no idea what m’gonna do to you.”

now it’s your turn to pause, carefully thinking about what your next move is. you could just tease her, tell her to go to bed and make good on her promises tomorrow. on the other hand, you could play into whatever she’s trying to do and see where it goes.

you opt for the second option.

“yeah? what’re you gonna do to me paige?”

“you wanna know?”

“yeah.”

your girlfriend squeezes her eyes shut, praying that she doesn’t finish just by hearing the sound of your voice. you’re so intoxicating to her, always knowing what to say and what buttons to press. it’s almost embarrassing the affect you have on her.

“i wanna bend you over the kitchen counter, get you warmed up on my fingers. maybe three fingers, that sound good? i’ll make you feel so good baby i promise. i’ll start off slow if you want, or fast, it’s up to you.”

you’re breathing heavy too, considering dipping a hand down into your pajama shorts because she’s turning you on so much. the wetness between your legs grow, rubbing them together for some relief.

“once you cum two or three times i’ll take you to our bed- are you okay babe? i can hear you moving a lot.”

“m’okay. keep going,” your hand snakes into your underwear, collecting your arousal and using it to rub tight circles on your clit. the simple pleasure is enough to make your head tilt back and hit the headboard. the sound echoes through the phone and paige knows exactly what you’re doing.

“i’ve been wanting to taste you so bad too, gonna have you ride my face until i tell you to stop. want your legs around my head, cum dripping on my face. i want it so bad ma you have no idea.”

“yeah?” it comes out more like a whine, voice high-pitched as the pit in your stomach grows. you haven’t gotten yourself off in so long. the feeling is foreign to you, arm growing tired from the constant strain.

“yeah. won’t stop until your legs are shaking.”

“oh my god paige.”

“gonna fuck you too. nice and slow and deep so i can take my time, i want you to ride me after that. i love it when you ride me- i get to see everything. i’ll fuck you in the shower, on the fucking wall for all i care. i’ve missed your pretty pussy so much it’s all i can think about.”

you moan into the phone, making it blatantly obvious what you’re doing if it wasn’t already. paige feels her chest swell with pride and she’s so turned on she thinks about doing the same thing as you; dipping an eager hand into her pants to relieve the pressure.

“i won’t stop until you beg me to. i don’t want you thinking about anything else but me and how i make you feel, okay? want you chanting my name.”

“yes-fuck! nothing but you p,”

your hand gets tired and sloppy as your orgasm approaches, back bending off the bed to help you grind on yourself. paige is still talking but you can’t even hear her because your ears are ringing and you’re so close-

“you gonna cum baby?”

you hum out, near delirious and probably crying as her words send you over the edge. your whole body shakes at the sensation but it’s nothing like how paige makes you feel.

you can’t wait until she’s here and not just on the phone.

ᯤ༉‧₊˚.*ੈ✩‧₊˚‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊

a lil short fic for my paige girlies

part of me fears i made this a bit too freaky……

BUT I LIKE TJE REQUEST SO HERE YOU GO!

partially spell checked idk

[ohsc]

hiii idk if you take requests for smut but if you do i have an idea for sam, i just think sam would be such a gentle lover with an inexperienced reader and it’d be so 🫠🫠🫠

delicate.

sam winchester x fem!reader, 4.1k, nsfw 18+, fingering, p in v, praise, size kink if you squint, somewhat softdom!sam, inexperienced!reader — requests are open

Sam knew to be delicate with her.

As his hands traced the outline of her body through her clothes, as he felt the heat of her mouth against his own, the weight of her settled in his lap as they made out, he knew to keep his touch gentle, his kisses passionate yet not overbearing.

A few days before the first time they’d had sex, she’d gotten out through the hands that she’d used to hide her blushing face that she really hadn’t done much sexually before. Nothing more than a few PG-13 make out sessions and above-clothes groping. It had taken her a while to admit it, she’d been so horribly embarrassed, but Sam sat and rubbed her back as he listened, because he didn’t ever want her to feel embarrassed with him about that stuff.

Alright, he wasn’t exactly a saint. He’d gone to college, hooked up a bit, had a girlfriend, and then had his fair share of nights with other women afterwards until he met Y/N, but he didn’t see her any differently for not having done those things. It didn’t sit well with him that she might’ve been worried about his reaction to her sex life, or lack thereof.

In all honesty, it just made him want to make it special for her, as horribly cliché as that sounded.

So a few days after that conversation, he’d taken her virginity. It hadn’t been all rose petals and tea-light candles and silk sheets, but he’d dressed up nicely and taken her to dinner, took her back to a nicer motel room than they usually resided in, and took his time with her. Got himself accustomed to her body, her reactions, what she liked and didn’t like, what made her breathing shudder and left her keening beneath him. Left her satisfied enough to fall asleep happily in his arms once they’d finished, left himself burning with pride that he’d made her feel so good.

It had been some months since that night, and whilst they’d had sex a few more times since the first — he’d slowly introduced her to new things, had her cum around his cock and his fingers and on his tongue (which was his personal favourite), atop and beneath him, in a bed and a shower and on a sofa — she was still pretty shy. Sam thought it was fucking attractive that he could get her blushing and panting from a few simple touches, but he still didn’t tease her about it. He made sure to take his time, not to overwhelm her or take things too fast than she was comfortable with. She was still pretty new to it all, he wanted her to enjoy it, not feel like it was stressful.

He could barely contain the groan that rumbled from the back of his throat as he felt her hands thread through his hair, her smaller fingers curled around the strands in a way that drove him crazy. Seeing her slowly edge out of her shell over the past few months had been so fucking enjoyable, even when it was just down to simple touches like that. Four months ago and she would’ve asked three times before even just touching his hair.

“God, sweetheart-” His fingers flexed against her waist and brought her as close as physically possible, her thighs warm against his where they bracketed them, her stomach pressed against his. The shitty motel mattress beneath them shifted slightly as they both moved, springs complaining under the shift in weight, but neither of them paid it any mind. “Love it when you get so needy.”

A huff of breath escaped her lips and she mumbled something indignant against his open mouth, and Sam let out a soft laugh, tipped his head back just slightly to look at her flushed-pink face.

“What was that?”

“I said don’t make fun.” She grumbled, eyes dipping down, and Sam felt as her fingers slowly started to retract from his hair.

“Ah-ah,” his hand lifted, lightly gripping one of her forearms to keep them there, before his head dipped down to press a chaste kiss to her inner elbow. “I’m not making fun, not at all,” his head tipped enough to press another kiss higher up her arm, until the soft cotton of her t-shirt brushed against his nose. “You should know how much I love you like this.”

His mouth finally reached her neck, and one of his hands slid up the length of her back to cup the base of her skull, and he slowly tipped her head back until the skin of her neck was a little more exposed. He didn’t miss the little breathy noises that escaped her as he kissed her neck, it made his cock twitch in his jeans, the denim suddenly far too tight.

“You sound so pretty, baby,” he mumbled the words against her warm skin before his lips pressed to her pulse point, and he felt as her pulse drummed beneath her skin. He couldn’t help but smile against it as he lightly sucked the skin into his mouth, just enough to pull another gasp from the depths of her chest. “So pretty.”

“Sammy-” Her fingers were twitching in his hair, grasped lightly before she shifted in his lap a little, and he knew she was a little too worked up to keep up with the lighter touches. They’d been making out for a while now, it had slowly progressed from softer pecks and light giggles to that need that thrummed beneath their skin. He liked getting her properly worked up and ready for him.

He knew her body enough now to know that her restlessness meant she was exactly that. Ready.

Sam left one last kiss against her neck before he leaned back enough to look at her face, and with a much more loving kiss against her mouth, he lightly tugged at one of her belt loops and mumbled, “Wanna take these off for me, honey?”

She didn’t really hesitate and nodded, before she climbed off of his lap to take off her trousers, let the material fall to the floor before she’d climbed back in his lap again, and the sight of her straddling his thighs in just her panties and t-shirt was enough for his cock to throb.

“You’re so fucking pretty,” Sam all but groaned as he leaned forwards to kiss her again. As his tongue probed at her bottom lip before it dipped into her mouth and licked behind her teeth, one of his hands gripped her hip, his other smoothed up the warm bare skin of her thigh before he cupped her sex through the cotton of her underwear, felt her warmth and her wetness, her light gasp into his open mouth at the touch. “All worked up for me, baby?”

She nodded dumbly, and a soft little gasp was pushed from her mouth as he slowly traced her through the wet fabric. “Please-”

“Shh, I know,” he pressed his lips to her cheek, her jaw, the side of her neck. “I know, just relax, sweetheart, I’ve got you.”

Sam’s fingers slipped beneath the elastic of her panties before he nudged two of his fingers through her folds, and as the warmth and the slick of her arousal coated them, his cock throbbed harder. “You’re already so wet for me,” he all but groaned into her neck as he started slowly rubbing her clit with the pads of his fingers. “So fucking perfect.”

Sam lived for the way she shuddered and gasped in his lap, the way he felt her fingers grip the material of his shirt as she tipped forwards slightly, her head rested against his. Though little gasped breathy noises were escaping her, she was still pretty quiet. Being noisy when they were having sex was something he knew she was shy about, but Sam didn’t urge her to be louder. He knew if he brought it up, it’d be all she’d think about, and he really didn’t want her to get in her own head about it. He much preferred letting her explore what she was comfortable with as he touched her, let her breathe her own reactions to the stimulation he provided until she was comfortable doing more.

This was all for her, after all.

Sam kissed and nibbled and sucked at her skin for a while as he paid close attention to her clit, switched from lazy circles with his fingers to long strokes against the length of them, until he and her and her underwear were completely soaked with her wetness. He didn’t try to move further until she was almost trembling in his lap, her hands grasped at his shoulders as she gasped and whimpered in response to his insistent rubbing.

His fingers lifted from her clit to press a little further into her underwear, and pressed the tip of his pointer finger against her entrance, holding it there as he murmured, “Is this okay?”

Y/N nodded immediately, and breathed out a “Please,” that sounded so deliciously needy that it took all he had not to cum in his fucking pants.

Sam slowly pushed his finger into her, felt the warmth and the tightness of her wet cunt around him, and fuck did he need to work her open a little before she’d be ready to take his cock.

His eyes flickered up to watch her expression as he slowly pumped his finger inside of her, and it was like fucking art the way she straddled his thighs, her hands grasped onto his shoulders, eyes half-lidded and lips parted enough to let out the soft breathy moans and whimpers every time his finger shifted to hit a spot inside of her that made her body shudder. He could watch her like that forever, could burn the image into his eyelids and happily stare at it any time he closed his eyes.

If that was her reaction to one finger, the thought of how she’d react to his cock fucking into her was enough to make him see stars.

When he added a second finger she keened and groaned, and the sound was so fucking good that Sam wanted to keep it, file it away in his brain to play whenever he wanted, whenever he needed to get himself off quickly in the shower on mornings he woke up with a hard on. It’d do the trick, Sam thought as he crooked his fingers inside of her and dragged out a replica of the first groan, it’d have him cumming in seconds.

Sam worked her open with his fingers until she was a mess, until all he heard was her blissful noises and the lewd wetness every time his fingers thrusted back inside of her. His free hand, which had been pressed against the small of her back to keep her close, lifted and cupped her face, and the fingers inside of her slowed to a lazy pace as he stroked her cheek with the pad of his thumb. “You wanna be on top, baby?”

She didn’t really respond. She’d gotten like this a few times, worked up and blissful to the point where she got a little lost, a little dazed. Sam’s thumb lightly pressed beneath her jaw and he tipped her head up, and the glassy look in her eyes was all he needed to see to know she needed to be brought back into herself.

“Hey,” his thumb stroked along her jaw a little firmly to ground her as his fingers stilled inside of her. “You with me, sweetheart?”

Y/N blinked, her lips parting with a soft breath before she mumbled, “Hm? Yeah, I’m-” She took a second breath. “Sorry-“

“Hey, no,” Sam shook his head, and slowly pulled his fingers out of her as he kissed her forehead. “Don’t apologise, you’re okay. Just breathe a moment.”

As she did as she was told and took some breaths, Sam never ceased the gentle rubbing of his thumb against her jaw. His eyes never left her face, he watched for any signs of discomfort, that she wanted to stop.

“You okay?”

She nodded, humming. “M’okay, I swear.”

“Still want to keep going?”

Again, she nodded. “Please.”

“Okay, sweetheart,” Sam pressed a soft kiss against her lips, before he leaned back to look at her as he repeated his original question, “Do you want to be on top?”

He saw the moment she blushed, overcome with shyness once again. “I… whatever you want-”

“No,” Sam briefly kissed her again. “What do you want?”

She paused, and really seemed to think about it that time, before she whispered, “Can you?”

“Can I what? Be on top?”

She nodded.

Sam kissed her again. “Of course.”

He moved his hands to her hips to help her off of his lap, and once she was sat staring up at him, hands planted on the mattress behind her somewhat to keep herself held up, Sam stood up to shed himself of his jeans, and watched as Y/N stripped herself of her shirt and Christ, he thought it was hot undressing her himself, but he could watch her do it for hours.

When they were both stripped naked Sam climbed over her on the bed. The mattress squeaked it’s protest beneath them again as he settled over her, and Sam couldn’t help but close the distance to kiss her again. Her mouth was warm against his and he groaned into it as his body pressed down against hers, pretty much covering her completely. His hips pressed into hers, his hard cock slid through her folds easily with how wet she was, and she felt the shudder that ran through her at the movement.

He reached down with his free hand and gripped the base of his cock, and slowly dragged his head through her folds, nudging her clit and back down, collecting her slick wetness on himself until she was gasping and tipping her hips upwards beneath him, and Christ what a fucking sight that was.

Sam dipped his head down enough to kiss her softly, and mumbled into her mouth, “Still want to?”

Y/N nodded immediately, her breaths hot and heavy as she exhaled against his mouth. “Uh-huh, yes- please-”

“Okay, baby, alright,” he kissed her once more. “I’ve got you.”

Using the hand he had gripped at the base of his cock, Sam lined himself up against her entrance before he tipped his hips forwards, slowly pushed the head of his cock inside of her, and he was barely inside of her when she clenched around him, and he almost fell onto her as a shiver wracked through his spine. “Fuck-”

The sounds she were making were beautiful, the little gasps and whimpers that swirled his mind in a delicious arousal that threatened to swallow him whole.

Sam took his time to push all the way inside of her. Even though he’d taken his time working her open with his fingers, she was still tight, and Sam wasn’t exaggerating or bragging, but he knew that he was big. He could see just from the blissed out look on her face that he was filling her up completely, and the sight alone almost made him cum before he’d even completed his first thrust.

He bottomed out and groaned, dipped his head down to mouth kisses against her throat as he stilled himself, just to allow her to adjust to the stretch. His words were a little strained as he breathed out, “Need a moment?”

He felt her nod, and from where he was mouthing his way up her neck, he felt the almost ragged rise and fall of her chest beneath him, her bare skin brushing against his own, and he could feel the warmth almost damp-with-sweat skin, her hardened nipples brushed against his chest with each inhale. She was perfect. Completely and utterly. He loved that he could get her like that — that she trusted him enough to get her like that.

After her neck had been littered with kisses once more and she’d had the time to breathe through the stretch of him sunken in her pussy, Sam felt her shifting beneath him slightly, her hips tilted as if she was trying to get him to move, and Sam couldn’t help the soft groan that built in the back of his throat. Y/N still wasn’t so good with words yet, asking for what she wanted or expressing her opinion unless he coaxed her into it, but God he loved it when she did that, coaxed him with her body, with a sinful shift of her hips.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” Sam shifted his hips, pulling out slightly to slowly thrust back in, and his gut clenched at the noise she let out. “You’re so tight-” he clenched his teeth as he thrusted again, felt the way her warmth clenched around him like a fucking vice. “Feels so good for me.”

Sam kept with the slow deep thrusts, revealed in the drag of his cock against her walls, the way she keened and gasped beneath him whenever his head nudged against the spongy spot inside of her that he knew made her head spin. He took his time unraveling her beneath him, watched as her eyes rolled back and her lips parted with soft little breathy gasps each time his cock nudged deeper inside of her, sinful wet noises accompanied with each thrust.

“Sammy-” her voice was so whiny when she tangled her fingers in his hair again, and the slight tug on the roots made him groan, his own breathing ragged with each thrust.

Though when she took his reaction the wrong way, Sam felt her fingers retract from his hair, and he paused his movements to reach up and grasp her forearm lightly like he had done before, and kept her hand there. “Don’t do that.”

She blinked up at him, eyes fucking blown out with lust as she panted slightly. “But-”

Sam almost huffed a laugh as he realised that he had to spell it out for her. “I like it,” he mouthed a kiss at her jaw, wet and lazy. “Pull as hard as you want. Don’t be so shy, baby.”

When he started thrusting again she whined and gripped onto his hair tighter, in such a way that made his cock throb inside of her and his breathing stutter, and a strangled groan escaped him as he kissed her throat again.

“That’s it,” he panted, and sped up just slightly as she clenched around him a bit more frequently, she was close. “That’s it, there we go, good girl-” Sam grunted, exhaled hard against her throat as his forehead tucked against her neck. “Taking me so well-”

On a particular deep thrust of his hips she whimpered, tugged on his hair just a little harder, and Sam knew her well enough by that point to know what it meant.

“You feel close, baby?”

“Uh-huh-” she sounded pretty wrecked, all breathy as she panted and whimpered beneath him. “I’m-” Y/N sucked in a sharper breath through her teeth. “I’m gonna- oh, I can’t-”

“Hey, it’s okay,” Sam leaned back slightly to look down at her face when he heard as she got a little worked up again, and his hand reached up to cup her jaw, her cheek flushed and warm beneath his palm. “Easy, sweetheart. What do you need?”

She was blinking through the hazy bliss he knew was swimming through her entire body. “Can-” she breathed in again, and tilted her head to kiss his wrist softly, and if he hadn’t been fucking into her in that exact moment his heart would’ve burst with softness. “Can you do what you did last time? Please?”

Sam almost fucking came at the memory right then. A few times now she’d gotten a bit worked up when she came close to cumming and hadn’t been able to get there so easily, so the last time it had happened he’d helped he’d through it by rubbing her clit as he fucked her into her orgasm. And Sam still thought about the reaction he’d gotten, the face she’d made as she shuddered through her orgasm. He’d been dying to pull that reaction out of her again.

“‘Course, sweetheart,” his voice was hoarse and his breathing was ragged, and he mouthed more kisses against her throat. “Just breathe for me, okay? Let it happen.”

Sam kept one hand braced beside her head to keep himself held up above her, whilst his other moved between them until his fingers found her clit, slickened with her arousal that was soaking the both of them. The angle of his arm was a bit weird, but if it meant getting her there, it was perfect for him.

Y/N moaned, her back arched off of the mattress, and her grip on him was so tight it took all he had to hold himself off.

“There we go, that’s it,” Sam grunted into her neck, fingering tight little circles onto her clit as he continued to thrust into her, dragging the length of his cock at an angle that he knew left her shaking. “Such a good girl, fuck-” he inhaled through his teeth and groaned. “Want you to cum for me, baby, wanna hear those pretty noises.”

It didn’t take much. After a few more thrusts and undivided attention on her clit she came, hard, a breathless moan left her lips as she shuddered and clenched around him, her pussy pulsed in such a blissful way that Sam couldn’t even fucking help himself and he came with her. He moaned into her throat as he worked them both through their respective climaxes, and rutted against her a few more times before he groaned softly and rested his weight on top of her, his cock still inside of her as they both fought to catch their breath.

“Oh god baby,” Sam mouthed lazy wet kisses against her throat again, and his hand moved from her clit, flattening against the soft skin of her stomach and smoothing upwards until he could cradle her jaw in his hand. “You were so good for me,” he dropped another kiss. “So sweet,” another kiss. “So perfect.”

Her fingers had loosened in his hair, and instead she had just hooked her arm around his neck, kept him close to herself. She still breathed deeply, her skin was flushed and damp with sweat, her legs trembled slightly either side of his hips — she was so fucking pretty.

“You feel okay, sweetheart?” Sam tipped his head back enough to look down at her face, flushed pink, baby hairs stuck to her forehead with sweat. He lifted up his hand to brush them out of her face, before he smoothed the pad of his thumb over the hot skin of her cheek.

She nodded, and when her eyes met his, he saw the tiredness that had crept into her expression, the way her eyelids fluttered and she laid lax and practically boneless atop the mattress.

“Yeah?” He cupped her jaw again and tipped her chin up a little with his thumb. “Wanna talk to me?”

“I’m good, felt really good,” she mumbled, and one of her hands lifted to lightly wrap her fingers around the wrist of the hand he cupped her jaw with. “You’re… you make it really nice. Thank you.”

Sam chuckled softly, and dipped his head down to kiss her forehead. “Don’t need to thank me, sweetheart,” he kissed her again, before he murmured softly, “I’m gonna pull out, okay?”

Only after she’d nodded did he shift his hips again and pulled out slowly, and when he heard the way her breathing hitched, felt her little shudder, he lightly smoothed his hand over her stomach again. “Easy,” he murmured, voice soothing as he rubbed circles into her soft skin. “You okay?”

She hummed a little, blushing. “Just sensitive.”

“That’s okay, baby,” Sam tipped his head down again and captured her lips in a soft loving kiss, and took his time with it, rubbed calming circles into her skin for the duration of the kiss before he slowly pulled away and looked down at her pretty face. “I’m gonna go get a towel to clean you up, okay?”

Y/N smiled a little fondly as she nodded. “Okay.”

Sam kissed her once more before he finally pushed himself up and off of her, off of the bed entirely. But partway to the bathroom he paused and turned to face her, “Hey?”

She looked up, humming.

“I love you.”

Sam watched as she completely softened, watched as the soft little smile reserved for him crept onto her face, curling the corners of her mouth upwards. “Love you too.”

[cherry-leclerc]

thinking of her ☆ cl16

genre: angst, marriage trope

word count: 1.8k

You and Charles take a visit to marriage counseling.

inspired by this !

req!... had some free time to write so thought i would work on a request i just got! short one, but i hope you enjoy :)

“Tell me why you’re both here.”

The room is silent and slightly cold. A large canvas hangs right in front of you as you take time to pretend you care about the family painted on it. Part of you actually does.

“Well, she thought it would be a good idea to drag us into this.”

Your eyes flicker to Charles and you would only hope that he could tell that you weren’t impressed by his answer. It was true, it was your idea to go to couple’s counseling, but only because you cared. You cared a lot. Sometimes you thought for sure he didn’t anymore.

“Honey, tell me what made you decide this.”

You wanted to burst with anger. To prove to her that this wasn’t completely your fault. He wasn’t perfect, he tested your patience and despite it all, you still loved him enough to try and salvage your marriage. 

Your therapist stares back, pen ready to scribble possible solutions as if her words would really matter. Maybe, deep down, you didn’t like being here either, but you wanted to prove to Charles how he’s been a shit husband. 

You wanted someone to back you up.

Taking a deep breath, you play with your wedding band. The one that you would normally admire, but now it just felt like pure suffocation. “He’s given me plenty of reasons to not trust him the way I once did and now I sit here like a fool thinking he might change.”

The way her pen glides is something you hate. 

Looking back up at you both she takes a moment to analyze the couple. Charles sits with a blank expression, as if he really did have somewhere better to be. In his mind, he did. Then, there was you. Regardless of your words pouring with pure vexation, your body language displayed something else. 

Your eyes were sad and tired. She easily noticed the way your hand would want to reach out to Charles, but would quickly grip tighter to your lap.

“Please, if you don’t mind, would you care to explain.”

You press your lips together. “I first noticed a difference 2 years into our marriage.”

-

“Chicken or fish?” 

It was Charles’ day off from work in a long time and you were currently on a call with Pascale trying to figure out what to surprise him with. He always raved about how much he loved what you cooked for him. 

“Fish. You guys were just here yesterday and I made grilled chicken, remember?”

You hum as you get into your car and start driving to the market. The conversation is cut short when you finally reach your destination. Walking through the aisle you decide it would be a fine idea to grab some wine you both love. 

“Charles?” The brunette looks up, red wine in his hand, as you smile a bit confused. “What are you doing here? I thought you were playing padel with Lorenzo.” 

“I was! Finished the game early and thought I would grab us some wine for later.” He gets closer as he kisses you and takes the kart from you. “Shopping for dinner?” You nod.

“Thought it’d be nice…” You look at the bottle and yes it’s red, but it's not the kind you both like. “Honey, you got the wrong one.” A panicked look flashes his face before he lets out a nervous laugh. Of course! I’ll change it right now.

-

“It only took a couple more slip ups for me to find out.”

The therapist nods as her attention turns to Charles, where he plays with his bracelets. “And what made you stay?” You want to laugh. Are we just going to spend time on me? She shakes her head. “We’ll get to him, I just want to hear from you first.”

“After I confronted him he swore he’d stop seeing her. I guess it was my fault for even believing him.”

-

“Amour!”

He runs into the living room, kitchen, basement, everywhere. Breathing hard he looks around the house as if the furniture will give up and tell him where you are. A loud thud echoes from upstairs. Two steps at a time, he darts up quickly into your bedroom. His heart stops when he sees you packing a suitcase. What are you doing?

You don’t answer. Don’t even spare a passing glance. Instead you slip the gold band off your finger as you throw it behind you. It only falls a few steps in front of him. He picks it up as he makes his way to you. “I’m so sorry.”

Your back faces him, but you don’t dare make a single sound. You curl your hand against the dress you were folding, bite hard on your lip to not let out a single sob. But your chest hurts, your tears feel like acid against your skin and you’re almost thankful for pain like that, that way what Charles did wouldn’t be the only thing that hurt.

He makes his way to kneel down in front of you as you stare down at the carpet. You had begged him only a few days ago to put down the deposit on it and for a while he said it wouldn’t be financially responsible, but later agreed. You hated the carpet now.

“Why? Just why?”

He’s far too embarrassed to even come up with an answer. “...I don’t know.”

When you finally look up at him he sees what he’s caused. Your eyes are bloodshot as your nose is rosy. Cheeks are so bright pink, it almost looked as if someone pinched them. 

You let out a wet laugh as you drop your hands against your lap. “You know, when I woke up this morning and you were gone I thought to myself, ‘Wow. What did I do to deserve a husband who wakes up early enough to get me breakfast on my birthday?’ And I waited. And waited. But whatever! That’s fine! He probably got busy. Then Pascale called to confirm if we were still going out for dinner, to which I said, ‘Yes! Of course!...Yes, the gold bracelet! It was beautiful, thank you for helping him pick it out.’ I thought it was sweet, I did, but you never came. And again, the presents are not what mattered, but it was you. I texted you. I called you. I told myself you were probably too busy planning something sweet the way you always did. They all asked where you were and I had to lie and tell them you were going to be late. Do you know how stupid I felt when I saw you and her enter the restaurant holding hands? And then what did I do? I purposefully had you see me run out so you could chase after me, so that your family would never find out about your…fling.”

Charles keeps bowing his head lower and lower almost as if to hide from his mistakes.

“...So where’s my bracelet, huh? Because you got it for me for my birthday, right?” Extending your hand out hurts because you know deep down it was never for you. 

“I don’t have it…” You click your tongue as you retract your arm. Of course you don’t, you seethe. With all your strength, you stand with wobbly knees as you start to walk away. 

“Don’t worry. I won’t tell anyone.”

And he should feel relieved, but instead he feels like a complete asshole. How could he ruin things with his wife who swore to love him with all her being? He knew you well enough to know that you always will and he couldn’t let that go. He would fix this.

He runs to the door to close it. Move, you spit out. He shakes his head as he hugs you. 

“S-stop,” you say in a shaky voice as warm tears begin to flow once more. “It’s okay, just let me go…”

You go stiff when you realize he’s crying into your neck. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry…He just keeps repeating it and you can’t stop yourself from hugging him back. He loved you and you loved him. That’s all that mattered.

“Just don’t do it again, okay?”

-

“So he cheated: you forgave him. He put her first and your marriage second.”

You flinch at her words because they only remind you how true they are. For a while, you thought you could both get over it, but you never really did. Not when you were already both standing on opposite sides of the road.

“Mom always did say I always saw the best in people.”

“And you…” Charles gulps. “What made you fall into an affair?”

Months ago, when you first found out, he didn’t have any answer to that question. But he did now.

“I wasn’t smart enough to appreciate my wife.” He looks at you as you avoid eye contact because you know the moment you looked into his eyes, you would fall all over again.

But you still did.

His eyes are sorry, you could tell, and the way his hand makes his way to you is enough for you to grow warm despite the cold room. 

“I’ve made plenty of mistakes - I know that - but none of them could compare to what I did to us. For putting you through so much doubt…For making you think I didn’t love you, but I always did.”

You're crying now as you nod because this is all you ever needed to hear.

“If this was the bump in the road that we had to overcome to grow closer then I accept it because I love you too, Charles. It’s about time you realized that.”

-

Charles feels lighter, happier. Now that he gets to hold your hand after many fights, he’s reminded about all the things he loves about you. But nothing could have prepared him for you to let go of his hand.

“I want a divorce.”

He’s stunned. W-what? We just decided that we were fine, that we were moving on…

You shake your head as you laugh. “My apologies, God, did I make you believe a lie? Feels awful, doesn’t it?”

He furrows his brows as he tries to reach out for you but you keep stepping further back. “Back there you almost had me…You said, ‘...none of them would compare to what I did to us.’ Us. Did you suffer? Did you spend countless, empty nights, crying yourself to sleep wondering what you did wrong? No, because it was all me. It wasn’t what you did to us, it's what you did to me.” You spin your ring one last time before slipping it off and placing it in his hand. He wants to say something to make you change your mind, to oversee his past mistakes one more time, because he swore to himself it would be the last time. But he could tell you’ve made up your mind. You twist your heel, ready to walk away before taking one last look into his green eyes you once loved.

“And the baby is getting my last name.”

[kiss-inthekitchen]

favorite insomniac | spencer reid

a little warm-up exercise i just finished <3 you can't sleep, so you decide to call the only other person you know who would be awake at this hour. ~500 words

You don’t get insomnia. Usually, you fall asleep quickly and easily, and then devolve into any number of nightmares or vivid dreams or somethings that cause to you wake up feeling like you hadn’t slept at all. 

Obviously not great. But not insomnia.

Tonight, however, is not a usual night.

You roll over once again, after what feels like hours but is probably only twenty minutes of lying as still as possible and trying to will your body to be tired. You check the time on your phone; 3:14 AM. 

Ugh. You have to be at work in less than 6 hours, awake in less than 5. Closer to 4, if you want to actually look presentable. 

You groan, scrubbing your hands over your face and barely resisting the urge to start punching your pillows. 

And then you give up. 

There’s one insomniac you know who’s got a pretty good chance of being awake right now. You've dialed the number before you can even think about it. The line rings once, and you realize what an inappropriate, quite possibly disrespectful choice this had been. You’re about to hang up, hovering over the red button, when you hear him. 

“Hey,” he says, voice raspy. 

Oh god, oh god. “Please tell me I didn’t wake you up.” 

“No,” Spencer chuckles bitterly, “You didn’t. What’s wrong?” 

“I can’t sleep?” 

His eyebrows raise halfway to his hairline. “So you called me?” 

You and Spencer are coworkers. You’re friends. You just don’t really hang out much outside of work and work-related events. Not that you haven’t wanted to, you just… don’t really know how. Or if you should. Or if it would be particularly smart. 

“I’m so sorry. I figured if anyone was liable to be awake right now, it’d be… I wasn’t thinking. I’ll let you go, I’m–” 

“Hey, it’s alright,” he says, amused. You’re the only person he ever gets the opportunity to calm down; he’s usually the most nervous person in the room. “This doesn’t usually happen to you though, does it?” 

“No,” you huff, flopping back against your pillows. “I’d ask you for tips, but whatever you’re doing clearly isn’t working.” 

“That’s nice.” 

“Am I wrong?” 

“No, you’re not wrong.” 

You make a self-satisfied little “hmph” sound. 

“What did you call me for then?” 

Something in the timbre of his voice makes your heart speed up. “I don’t know, human connection across the ether that is 3 AM?” The sense that you’re the only two people in the universe. The sound of his voice. Not that you could say that part out loud.

“Wanna go for a drive?”

Huh? “Wh– We have work in, like, 5 hours.” 

“Oh, you haven’t been counting, have you?”

“You mean like thinking ‘if I fall asleep right now at this moment I could get 5 hours of sleep’ but then I still don’t fall asleep and I watch the minutes go by until it’s only 4 and a half hours and then I get angry at myself for being awake and then I’m somehow even more awake?” 

He chuckles, dark and rich through the phone. “The classic trap. Never count the hours.” 

“Now you tell me.” 

“Alright,” he grunts, and you hear him shuffling around, “I’m picking you up.”

“You're what?!"

"I'm picking you up," his voice lilts up, almost like a question. But not like he's asking for permission, more like he's teasing you. Like he knows your answer anyway.

"Now? You have a car?” 

“Yes, now. And yes, I have a car,” you hear jingling on the other end. “You’re gonna like it.”

[animementrash]

Levi secretly loves cuddling you. Whenever you come to his office with those sleepy eyes and pouty lips asking if he’s “too busy” he knows it’s your bedtime and you’re trying to find a way to ask him to come along and lay in bed with you. He always tries to not give in at the first try, in part because he’s ashamed about how willingly he is to drop everything and go cuddle with you but also because he doesn’t want you to find out how much power you have over him; So, whenever you go ask him to cuddle for a bit it usually goes like this:

It’s well past midnight, the gentle flicker of the candle next to him and the sound of his pen gliding across the paper is the only thing that he can hear, that’s of course until he hears the now so familiar steps coming towards his door.

“Come in.” He speaks without even looking up his papers, he knows it’s you, it would be foolish of him to mistake those steps with anyone else’s.

“Hey. You’re still working?” You speak softly once you close the door behind you. “Ah, there it is… finally.” Thinks Levi to himself and looks up to face you; a wave of tenderness washes over him whenever he sees you, you make him so weak, so damn vulnerable.

“Yeah. Erwin wants me to sign all these papers by tomorrow morning. The asshole thinks I’m a printer or something…” He replies, his voice mocking his usual annoyed tone but it’s somehow softer and with less bite whenever he speaks to you.

“Why? Need help with something?” He knows damn well why you’re there, in fact, he was hoping you’d come over and try to take him away from this mountain of documents before he lost his mind. All he was thinking about now was being wrapped in those soft bedcovers you got from one of your trips to Stohess, his arms wrapped tightly around you and your soft hair tickling his nose as he nuzzled into your neck.

“No, well. I was just thinking that it’d be nice if you came to sleep with me tonight… but I see you’re very busy so…” He sighed heavily, not because he was annoyed by your request but because he couldn’t fathom the idea that you’d believe those stupid papers would be more important to him than you.

“Are you sleeping already?” He asked trying to sound surprised. “I thought you had more paperwork than me…” A chuckle left his lips as he said this and you spoke back almost immediately.

“Yeah, I do but, it’s very late already and that paperwork isn’t due until Friday so…” Your nervous response melted his heart, he was aching to hold you and feel your warmth.

“Oh, I see…” His hand moved quickly across multiple documents, signing stuff he didn’t even bother to read, he just wanted to finish as many as possible before the inevitable outcome of this conversation. “Well, it would be unfair that only you could drop your work like that, wouldn’t it?” His eyes locked with yours as he spoke, a hint of tease on them.

Before you could reply he was already standing up from his chair, his stiff muscles stretching after all those hours spent signing irrelevant papers.

“You still got those fancy night clothes you got for me last month, right?”

“Your pajamas? Yes, I have them in my room. You can change there” You replied happily and grinned at him, his heart did a backflip and he couldn’t help but smile back at you.

“Good, then let’s go. I feel like crap” After blowing out the candle on his desk he walked out of the office with you and locked the door, he was finally going to his happy place.

“Is your body sore? Maybe I could give you a massage before we sleep” You mentioned casually and he felt as if Ymir herself appeared in front of him and blessed him. “Yeah, that’d be nice.” As much as he tried to hide the happiness in his voice, it was obvious how much he loved you and how excited he was to spend another night next to you. And maybe, just maybe, his attempts to not give in “so easily” were a total failure.

[kaeyas-beloved]

It’s The Way He… || #2

Characters: Alhaitham, Cyno, Dainsleif, Heizou, Itto, Kaveh, Xiao, Wanderer

Summary: Just cute/heartwarming/breath-taking things he does <3

Genre: Fluff + Snippets

CWs: gn!reader (you/your), injuries (Cyno), petnames (my love; Kaveh),

a/n: did a pt. 2 because the last one got lots of love and I though they were really cute so I wanted to do some others <3

|| Pt. 1 ||

Alhaitham

It’s the way Alhaitham props his chin on you - your head, shoulder, just whatever is easiest at that moment - as you read. His eyes, a beautiful mix of green and orange, will skim the page you're on. It's no quantum physics or retelling of historic events, but if you like it then he'll give it a chance. Just, don't be too upset when he asks you to read faster, he wants to know what happens next is all.

"Are you almost done? I've finished the page. What? What's that look for?"

Cyno

It’s the way Cyno is so serious as he dresses your wounds, a stark contrast to the genlteness of his touch. It doesn’t matter if it’s a paper cut, a rash, burn or a gash from battle, it’ll receive the same level of attention and care from the general. If he had it his way he’d get Tighnari to fix you right up, because at least Cyno knows you’re in good hands, but that can’t always happen, so he’s your next best. In a way that’s alright, at least this way he can personally see to it that you’re looked after.

“This will sting a little, sorry, but it has to be cleaned. I’ll try to lessen the pain as much as I can and finish quickly. If you’d like, I can tell you some jokes to take your mind off of it?”

Dainsleif

It’s the way Dainsleif never forgets the little details about yourself. You could mention it once and he’s already committed it to memory, he's committed you to his memory. For 500 years he's walked alone, maybe not always physically, but it still felt like there hasn't been anyone with him. You are the first connection he's had in so long, and even if he's doomed to live long past you, the image of everything that creates you, he’ll will himself to remember for as long as he can, because just the thought of you makes him feel like he's alive once more.

“You told me once that the stars brought you peace. I thought it’d be nice to look out at them tonight, for they too do the same for me. However, if I was to be truthful, you, without a shadow of a doubt, bring me the most peace.”

Heizou

It’s the way Heizou leaves a riddle on the kitchen counter for you every so often before he leaves for work or errands. There’ll be clues scattered around the house for you to find as well, each one becoming more cryptic than the last. Of course, he knows you well enough to not make them so tough you can’t figure it out. He wants you to receive your prize after all~

“Did you figure out today’s riddle?” … “Heh, that’s correct, I knew you’d get it! Now, come and claim your reward. I think you’ll really enjoy it this time~”

Itto

It’s the way Itto runs up to you the instant he sees you in the streets of Inazuma, arms ready to grab hold and lift you as high as he can or as high as you allow. He'll even do a little spin with you he's that happy to see you. It doesn't matter if you’re alone or with someone, he is a loud and proud oni who shows off the person that owns his heart!!

"There you are my partner-in-crime, my beetle battle buddy, my number one! Say, if you're not busy how about you tag along with me? I just found this awesome raman place that's pretty cool if I do say so myself. How about we check it out?"

Kaveh

It’s the way Kaveh readily helps you with your outfit and any bells and whistles that go with it. As a renowned architect there are times where he’s invited to formal events, and you are his first go to for a plus one. And where there’s formal events there’s formal attire, and the hassle of making sure everything is perfect. Be it a tie or some piece of jewelry, Kaveh and his keen eye for detail are there to help attain that perfection.

“Ah, here, let me help. Sometimes, it takes another pair of eyes to catch if something’s off. Of course, you look stunning regardless my love. There, shall we head off?”

Wanderer

It’s the way Wanderer stumbles to match your pace. For as long as he's lived he's moved at his own pace, never once slowing or playing catch-up for others. For you though, he'll stop to admire the things he's overlooked due to his immortality, he'll race to make sure you don't run too far from him that he can't raech you. No longer does he run away from those he loves, now he runs alongside them.

"What? You stopped for a flower? It's pretty? Please, I can think of many more things that are prettier than some flower, but I suppose we have some time. Who am I to stop you from doing what your little heart desires."

Xiao

It’s the way Xiao carries with him the little gifts you give. May it be a flower, a picture, a letter or another object of some kind, the yaksha will have it tucked into the safest pocket he has. To you it may have just been something you picked up or made while thinking of him, but for Xiao, it’s his good fortune charm. Something that has a tangible weight to it, his constant reminder that someone is waiting for him back home. However, he can never bring himself to tell you this, covering up the why he brings it everywhere with some barely strung together excuses or redirections.

“Of course I’d take it with me, why would I not? Huh? You think I’d have no real use for it? Tsk, you still don’t know the ways of the adepti, do you?”

Tag list: @spoopy-fish-writes // @that-enby-alien // @xenuuu // @mariposa666haruka // @quackquackmfs // @kaerui-kaisen // @ajaxstar // @genshin-impact-writings // @stage-lucida // @ventisweetheart // @lordbugs // @leena-shi // @lemontum // @akiria12167 // @ari-the-wr1ter // @dontmindmebeing // @xiaos-wife // @irethepotato

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[barbiiecams]

daddy’s girl

dad!drew starkey x mom!reader, kinda trash but obviously i had too cus im in love with the video of drew and his niece oh my gosh <33

it was a peaceful morning. the sun was shining, the weather was warm, and it was a perfect day for a family date.

looking at the clock, you saw it was 8 am. you were a little surprised aaliyah hadn’t woken up yet, but she just started sleeping through the night. and you definitely weren’t complaining at all.

you sat up in bed while drew was still knocked out. he was still on go all night just in case she started crying in the middle of the night, so he was reasonably tired.

letting him sleep for a little bit, you got up to check on your baby. you made sure to keep your steps quiet, just so you didn’t wake drew up or potentially wake aaliyah up either.

opening the door to her nursery, a wide awake baby looked at you as you walked in.

you smiled at the position of her on her back, holding her feet. “is that my liyah girl up?”

she flashed you her infamous gummy smile. she loved to smile at anyone and everyone, and you just always had to thank god for your happy baby.

she kicked her legs around, more than excited to see her mommy in the morning again. picking her up from her crib, you smothered her in kisses. “my pretty girl, we’re gonna have such a fun day!”

you played with her a little more in your arms before you decided it was time to get yourselves ready for the day. walking into the bathroom, you brushed your teeth while you made sure she had one of her teething rings.

the wailing wasn’t happening now, but it would definitely happen later. better safe than sorry.

she was so calm and bubbly as you did your morning routine, it was perfect. she was really the definition of a “trick baby”.

you were almost done when drew walked in, clearly just woke up from bed not even a minute ago.

“good morning sleepyhead.” you grinned at him through the mirror.

he rubbed his eyes “g’morning,”

hugging you from behind, he gave you a kiss on the cheek then your lip. he reached over to aaliyah to rub her head comfortingly.

“this big girl slept throughout the whole night huh? didn’t she?” he started cooing at her, but that eventually turned into all of his attention. if there was someone that could “steal” your man, it’d be no one except his other princess.

he tickled her a little bit which made her start giggling, then gave her her morning kisses. a sight that would never get old to you.

“best sleep of my life,” you said while styling your hair, and it made him laugh.

“and you deserve it,” he said while wrapping an arm around your waist. “carried her for so long, s’the least i can do baby.”

you smiled at his words, “well she’s sleeping finally, so that means we can both start too.”

“and the stuff we used to be able to do almost every night,” he says into your ear, mainly so that liyah won’t hear.

giggling at his words and shaking your head, you finished with your hair. “it’s too early for you. this is the reason why she’s here in the first place.”

while cleaning your space up, he carries aaliyah off the counter. “you know i want another one.”

“me too,” you respond. “when she’s 2!”

he just smiles at this. he definitely doesn’t have a problem with that, but it just made him laugh that you were so adamant about the specific age. “you wanna be pregnant and dealing with terrible twos?

“you wanna deal with a baby and terrible twos?”

he throws his head back and laughs while bouncing aaliyah. “i’ll go get her ready, take your time baby.”

before walking out the bathroom he gives you a final kiss on the cheek. it feels nice being able to just have a morning to yourself after becoming a mom, but you always still cherished the mornings with liyah.

picking out your outfit, you settled on this for the fact that it was comfy enough to take aaliyah around the city as you planned.

when you were completely done getting yourself ready, you went to check on what your husband and baby were up to since it didn’t take you very long to get ready.

walking into her nursery once again, you saw a completely dressed and ready to go aaliyah.

“woww, that was quick. i’m impressed.” you praise drew.

he throws you a wink, “super dad.”

you giggle at his words while he hands her to you so he can get himself ready. the both of you were probably thinking about doing a brunch, so you packed liyah’s bag so you guys could leave as soon as he finished.

as drew walked out, liyah wasn’t having it. she started to get fussy and start whining when he was completely out of eyesight.

because of this, you paused packing some of her things. instead, you bounced her and patted her back, “ohh i know sweat pea, daddy’s just leaving the baby huh?”

although it could be a handful, you loved to see the bond she had with drew. she could be crying all night one second, but completely fine the next if she sees him right next to her.

calming down only a little, you were able to continue packing her bag. after 20 minutes of trying to keep her occupied, drew finally was done.

he takes the bag from you, “where we headed first, mama?”

“well i know she’s gonna get hungry soon and i definitely am, so let’s stop at our spot for brunch.”

before he can make another move, liyah reaches out for him and he takes her, “it’s clear who the favorite is.”

he smirks at you and all you can do was roll your eyes. it was the truth whether you liked it or not. “whatever. let’s go.”

laughing at your sentence, he puts his hand on the small of your back as you guys walk out of the room and out of the house, him also locking the door behind you too.

it’s the way he was able to multitask and do so much, while looking soo sexy, with a baby in his arm. it did really make you wanna give him another one earlier.

you made your way to the car and so did he, putting liyah in her car seat before entering the drivers seat. you guys headed down to the cafe that you and drew considered “your spot”, and you guys both planned to have your kids practically grow up with this cafe. it’s where you and drew both met for the first time, and all the memories you’ve made so far have been beautiful. you definitely weren’t going to stop making those memories anytime soon either.

—

arriving at the cafe, he grabs the baby bag and your purse while you put aaliyah in her carrier that was connected to you. eventually you would start putting her in the high chairs that the restaurants provided, but currently she was still in the phase where she needed to touch either mommy or daddy in public.

fastening the carrier, you and drew both walked in and saw familiar faces behind the counters.

“ah look! it’s my favorite person and her parents!” the owner jokes.

this makes you giggle and drew roll his eyes, “good morning to you too.”

you both find a spot and order your usuals. days like these you always appreciated. being surrounded by the people that make you happy and surrounded by peace.

drew started chatting with the owner while you chatted with his wife who also worked there. their daughter who was around your age had just had a baby herself, so there was already enough to go and chat over.

everything was going well, until of course you guys heard the whining. it was surely feeding time.

they watched you with smiles as you positioned her off your chest, but cradling her as drew handed you a bottle. as soon as you put it to her lips, she was completely calm again.

“that is really your twin, y/n!” the woman says.

“you think so?” you really only said this to hear her say it again, knowing how much she looked like you. you didn’t just cook her up for 9 months and pop her out for her not to look like you.

“most definitely,” she smiles.

“she may look like me, but that’s her true favorite right there.” you pointed at drew.

“really?” the owner asks.

“oh for sure,” drew says as he just admires the both of you. “i always tell her, mommy’s twin but daddy’s girl.”

he makes your eyes roll for what seems like the 50th time this morning, but he just laughs and kisses your cheek.

“when you have a son, he’ll most likely be a mamas boy.” the owner affirms.

“well, i guess we’re just gonna have to test that theory out.” drew says as he wraps an arm around you.

and that was just your main goal in life, to expand your growing family even more with him.

[milfsloverblog]

Secret Benefits (part 4)

Previous part here

Sugar mommy!Larissa Weems x fem!reader

A/N: Guess who’s back, back again. I know, I know. It’s been a while. Life has been a crazy ride in the last couple of months and I just didn’t have the heart to be writing anything. But I thought it’d be nice to gift you this chapter as a new year present. Have fun! ps: this contains ANGST. You’ve been warned. Enjoy <3

You could tell that The Paragon was another one of those ridiculously expensive restaurants as soon as you set foot inside. High ceilings, heavy velvet curtains hanging by the windows, paintings on the walls.

You took a deep breath and slid your hand into Larissa’s, intertwining your fingers with hers. It felt reassuring, feeling her skin against yours and knowing that she was there with you. Or that you were there with her.

A waiter quickly walked your way, flashing the two of you a bright smile before leading you to a table. You felt a couple of stares as you walked past the other seated people and realised what they were probably thinking about. A young woman with an older one, holding hands. You hadn’t even asked Larissa if this was okay - holding her hand in public. Holding hands like a couple would. That thought made you pull your hand away from Larissa’s as if you’d been burnt, much to Larissa’s dismay.

You sat down at the table and Larissa followed suit, sitting down in front of you. The older woman smiled when you didn’t bother opening the menu that had been handed to you by the waiter, knowing full well she’d be picking whatever you’d be eating.

Good girl, she thought as her blue eyes bore into yours before dropping to the menu in her hands.

Seared scallops with a saffron sauce as a main and a white chocolate and raspberry semifredo for dessert, that’s what she had picked for you that night.

Dinner went like it did last time, Larissa was always more willing to listen to you talking about your life rather than share about hers.

The tall woman chuckled softly when you pushed some semifredo in your mouth, making you look at her.

“What?”

“You have some-“ Larissa didn’t finish her sentence, choosing instead to reach out and wipe the bit of cream from the corner of your mouth with her thumb.

Almost instinctively, your lips parted. Larissa’s breath hitched, her heart doing that damn fluttering thing in her chest. You looked so beautiful, she thought. So open to her, so inviting.

Without thinking about it twice, she pushed the tip of her finger between your parted lips. And without thinking about it twice, your tongue licked the pad of her thumb clean.

A shiver ran down Larissa’s spine and she pulled her hand away from your lips, leaving you with your mouth half open and a questioning look on your face.

“Larissa, I-“ you started apologising but the older woman cut you off, raising her hand to catch the waiter’s attention.

You stayed quiet as she paid the bill, following when she stood up and buttoned up her blazer. You weren’t sure what you had done exactly to warrant her whole demeanour to change, but it was clear that you had messed up.

She was still silent when you sat down by her side in the car, seemingly lost in her own thoughts as she drove away from the restaurant.

Larissa was as lost as you were, thousands of thoughts rushing through her mind as she remembered everything that had happened that day. This was nothing more than a beneficial agreement - she found herself thinking for what seemed to be the hundredth time that day.

She was still quiet by the time she dropped you off at your place, reaching for the envelope inside the glove compartment and carefully placing it on your lap.

“Larissa, you don’t have to-“

“I know. But that’s what we agreed on, I’m paying you for your time.”

You gave a slight nod and pushed the envelope inside your handbag.

“Well,” you started, turning a little to face Larissa who kept her gaze outside the windshield. “Thank you for today.”

The older woman nodded and gently squeezed your knee without looking at you.

For a second you wondered if that was it, if this was the last time you’d see her. And then it hit you, the sudden urge to lunge at her and pull her into a kiss. Maybe it would wipe the worry off her pretty blue eyes and the pout off her crimson lips. But you didn’t kiss her, choosing instead to mutter a quiet “goodnight” before getting out of the car.

You didn’t see Larissa again after that night, at least not for a while. She didn’t contact you anymore, not even a single text to ask how you were doing. And maybe, you thought, maybe that was for the best. Sure, money was tight again but…

“Fuck!” You dropped the letter on your coffee table. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. You were fucked.

“What do you mean you don’t do instalments?!” You snapped at the woman on the other side of the phone that was pressed to your ear. “Yes, yes I get that! I get that it’s my fault but-“ you groaned when the woman cut you off again to remind you for the third time that you had missed part of the payment for your college fees and you had to pay for the remaining amount as soon as possible.

“For god’s sake, I’m a college student! Where do you think I’ll find two thousand dollars before Friday?! No, no my parents won’t-“ you pinched the bridge of your nose and took a deep breath. It was clear that the conversation wasn’t going anywhere, so you thanked the woman for her time and hung up.

You were fucked.

Asking your parents for help was useless, you already knew that. Maybe you could pick up a few more shifts at the bar but that meant you’d have to skip some classes and even then you would never gather that much money in a few days. And then it hit you. There was someone in your life who did have that kind of money.

You sighed loudly and sat down on the couch, staring at the phone that was still in your hand. You couldn’t just text Larissa asking her for two grand, not after you hadn’t talked to each other in weeks. No, you’d have to come up with a plan. And so you did.

It was a fairly simple plan. You texted Larissa asking how she was doing and chatting for a while before you offered to see each other. “A drink at my place,” you said. You knew that Larissa was attracted to you, a blind person could have told you that. Were you attracted to her though? You shook your head to get rid of the thought. It didn’t matter if you were attracted or not, all that mattered was that she was.

She had arrived at your place that evening with a bottle of Chardonnay. “I hate showing up empty-handed.” She’d told you when you said you had a couple of red wine bottles in the cupboard.

Larissa was a vision, as always. A beige-coloured coat that she shrugged off her shoulders to reveal a tight dress of the exact same beige fabric. Her hair was tied in one of those intricate updos, like the ones you’d seen in old movies, and her lips painted a darker shade of red. She was a vision.

“Make yourself comfortable, please.” You smiled and gestured towards the sofa. After a few seconds of hesitation, you opted to open a bottle of red. You had a feeling Larissa had a preference for it.

“There,” You said, placing the two glasses on the coffee table and sitting down next to the older woman. “Had a good day at work?”

“I did, it could have been worse.” Larissa gently clinked her glass against yours and took a swig of wine. She never shared much about her work which only made you more curious.

She asked about your day and you told her about it, avoiding mentioning the astronomical bill you had to pay.

“I’m glad you could come tonight.” You smiled and took a sip.

“I’m glad you invited me, I know it’s not an easy thing to let people into our space.”

“You’re right, but I trust you.“ How ironic. “It’s not much, but it’s home.” You added, looking around your living room.

Larissa hummed and took another sip of wine, uncrossing her legs and crossing them again.

“Do you live in a house?” You asked, hoping to learn more about her.

“I…No, it’s a bit complicated. I have my own apartments at work.” Larissa explained, visibly ill at ease.

“It’s fine, I know you don’t like sharing about your private life.” You pushed a small smile and carefully placed your hand on Larissa’s leg, right above her knee where the soft fabric of her dress gave way to her alabaster skin.

“Thank you,” Larissa whispered, adjusting herself so she could look at you.

You felt bad at the thought of what you were about to do. Your stomach twisting in your belly as Larissa’s gaze bore into yours. You liked her. You couldn’t do this.

Almost as a reflex you lifted your hand and emptied your drink to give yourself more courage.

“May I kiss you?” It left your lips without you even thinking about it.

Larissa’s eyes widened to the point where she looked like a deer caught in the headlights of a fast-approaching car.

Well, that did not go as you had expected.

The silence was almost too unbearable so you cleared your throat and moved to get up from the couch, hoping to pour yourself another glass of wine when slender fingers wrapped around your forearm and yanked you back down. Next thing you knew Larissa’s lips were crashing against yours, her right hand finding purchase on your cheek and pulling you impossibly closer.

“Yes,” she whispered out of breath when she eventually pulled away from you, her red lipstick smudged around her mouth up to the tip of her nose. “Yes, you may kiss me. And you may not stop.”

Larissa couldn’t help but notice the way your pupils dilated in reaction to her words. So you did want her. You wanted her like she wanted you and that made the woman’s heart swell in her chest.

“Kiss me again.” A demand that you couldn’t say no to, really. And so you kissed her again. And again. And again. Until she pulled you so you’d straddle her thighs and her lips eventually left yours, busying themselves on leaving red marks along your jaw and down your neck.

“Larissa-“ it came out as a strangled cry, your fingertips gently tugging on the woman’s hair and messing up her neat updo.

“Stop me if I go too far.” She whispered against your skin as her hands slipped under your dress to caress your thighs.

You weren’t sure if this was still part of your plan. Sure, you had hoped to seduce her thinking it might make her more susceptible to lend you the money but maybe this was actually going too far.

“I need two grand-“ it was out of your mouth in less than a second and Larissa’s hand instantly stilled their movements.

“What ?” She huffed in disbelief.

“I-I need two grand for a bill, but I’ll pay you back! I swear!”

Larissa huffed again and shook her head, her hands moving to her hair in an attempt to fix her updo - or perhaps to ground herself, you weren’t sure.

“This is why you called me here, isn’t it?”

You quickly stood up from the woman’s thighs and fixed your dress.

“No! Of course not-“ you swallowed thickly as she rose to her full height and towered over you.

Larissa’s face was flushed and you could tell it wasn’t the same flush as a few minutes before. No, this time she was furious.

“Larissa, Listen-“ You tried, taking a step back and watching her take one forward.

“No!” She growled with a severity that made the hair on the back of your neck stand up. “It’s your turn to listen.”

You took another step back as she took one closer, then another one, until she had you trapped against the fridge.

“You lied to me,” she said. “You made me come here, made me believe that you wanted to spend time with me. But all you care about is my money, isn’t it?” Larissa hissed, baring her teeth like a rabid dog. “You would sell your body like some cheap whore on the street.”

“And you would buy it!” You snapped, unable to let her bite you without biting her back.

“No, that’s where you’re wrong. I wouldn’t. I don’t mind paying for your time, your company. But this? No. It would feel like using you, and I already feel guilty enough as it is. Although you obviously don’t mind using me.” Larissa took a step back and reached inside her handbag, pulling out her chequebook and opening it.

“What are you-“ you started, only to be cut off by the older woman.

“I care.” Larissa simply said as she wrote the cheque. “And I thought-“ she slightly shook her head and handed you the cheque. Two thousand dollars. “Yes, I thought.” She repeated before giving a nod and putting her beige coat back on.

“Larissa,” you tried, gently wrapping your hand around her bicep.

“No,” she shook her head again and pulled away. “You’ve played me. You won’t see me again, sweetling.” It was said without any animosity. Instead, you found that her blue eyes were filled with melancholy as if she had been through this before and life was just repeating itself.

I’m sorry, you wanted to say, I’m sorry I lied to you and manipulated you. And I’m sorry to be hurting you.

You wanted to rip the cheque into pieces, to show her that it didn’t matter. But it did. You needed the money or you’d be kicked out of college. But, Larissa. Larissa, Larissa, Larissa. Larissa and her melancholy-filled eyes. I’m not like the ones who’ve hurt you before, you wanted to shout. But you were. Perhaps you were even worse than them.

Larissa and her melancholy-filled eyes.

Larissa and her warmth-filled laugh.

Larissa and her love-filled kisses.

Love-filled kisses.

Oh, god.

Of course.

You hadn’t realised it. Not before that moment. Larissa didn’t just like you. She had feelings for you.

“Larissa!” You exclaimed, snapping out of your thoughts only to find your apartment empty.

She was gone.

You were fucked.

————————————————————————

Taglist: @raspburrythief @weemssapphic @readingtheentrails @larissaoftarthweems @principal-weems09 @kimiinou @winterfireblond @im-a-carnivorous-plant @geekyarmorel @h-doodles @azu-zu @barbarasstar @witchesmortuary @m1lflov3rrr @dumbasslesbi @crow-raven-crow @fridays-coven @lilfartbox1 @shawncantwrite @autumn-leaves-chasing-breeze @gwens0girl @aemilia19 @the-bagel24 @lvinhs @thefutureisus2020 @gela123 @a-queen-and-her-throne @rando-mango @wheresmyboo @my-silver-spring @hillary-nicks @ablsk @natasha29romanoff @tallvampirelady12 @canyoufeelmyheartsayinghi @i-love-nerdy-stuff @1-800-milfdilf @scarlettssub @jasperobsidian-blog @i-write-sometimes-maybe @brienne-the-brave @slytherinthepms @non-binary-frogking @wife-of-gwendolinechristie @anjo-iludidoefudido @imnotafruitt @opheliauniverse

[chlorinecake]

Are we getting anymore Riize smut anytime soon 😓🙏🏽

✶ Time It | 18+ RIIZE IMAGINES 💭

ㅤㅤ♡⃕ how long would each riize member last … ?!

contains: SMUT, implied overstim or multiple rounds, hand jobs and oral (m. receiving), precise timings, fem!reader

Shotaro ⏱︎ Given his stamina as a dancer, I’d say he normally lasts pretty long on his own, but with you, it’d be harder for him to hold back, asking you to slow down whenever he’s close just to drag it out with edging. He’d be a blushing mess, too, screwing his eyes shut as he lets out those little groans you love, struggling to keep his thighs still before finishing just under thirteen minutes …

Eunseok ⏱︎ He’s prone to hide his sounds whenever he’s inside of you, wanting to focus more on your pretty whimpers as he fucks into you, or the sound of your juices squelching together. Though, you can tell just by looking at his darkened eyes and listening to the way he pants while talking dirty to you that he’s in a total haze, giving you a little over ten minutes for round one …

Sungchan ⏱︎ I first wanna mention how fun this guy would be in the bedroom, showing you in his facial expressions how much he’s enjoying it, and maybe even laughing a little before groaning all loud and shamelessly. Still, I can imagine he’s built up an endurance with you over time, oozing from his tip before giving you his full load at around fifteen minutes …

Wonbin ⏱︎ So needy… I can see him rutting his hips into your hand as you fist him, or stroking your hair out of the way so he could see your pretty face taking him, only to roll his eyes back while breathing all heavy. He’d try his best to hold back and make things last longer, but once he gets fully lost in your touch, he’d be moaning your name in an easy eight minutes …

Seunghan ⏱︎ Alright so with him, I feel like he'd really wanna impress you, knowing from personal research that it takes more time for a woman to get there. He'd spit on your cunt for additional slick first, and experiment with his thrusting speeds to maximize both your pleasure. I’d say he’d give you a sweet ten to fifteen minutes if he’s taking his time ...

Sohee ⏱︎ My cute baby... I honestly get the vibe that he's a relatable mix of extremely horny yet inexperienced, hiding his face out of shyness, but also because if he keeps looking at the way your fingers are wrapped around him, he might finish in a heartbeat </3 ... Stick with a moderate pace, and he’d get off in six minutes or so… but expect him to want more pretty soon ...

Anton ⏱︎ Don’t be fooled by his innocent and bashful demeanor, ‘cause this guy will actually surprise you. You’d try to be nice by starting off slow, but he’d be a moaning mess underneath you in seconds, clinging to your hips while practically begging you to go faster. You two would have to work up to more than one round because he’s sensitive, but he’d last a good seven minutes …

✶ taglist: [@squoxle, @nikisdubblchococake, and @pixiewoni, ty for the intentional/unintentional writing advice], @ashgonedash @yourmomscuntis2tighy @watamotee33 @wonbinisbabygurl

✶ still working on a masterlist so bare with me 🙏

✶ edit: 📍 the NEW RIIZE masterlist is here !! feel free to check it out if you’re interested in more works by me ^^

[wifeyoozi]

Maybe we are soulmates

The idea of soulmates always felt a bit too fantastical for you, but right now, it didn’t seem so far-fetched. The way Jihoon had known exactly what you needed, without you even having to ask, made you feel a connection that went beyond words. (fluff // comfort ,, mentions of being soulmates but not a soulmate au)

The sound of your keys jingling as you unlocked the door was the only noise you could focus on as you trudged inside your apartment, your body heavy with exhaustion. The day had been relentless, and though you normally found solace in coming home and taking care of the house, tonight was different. The mere thought of scrubbing dishes or cooking dinner felt like an insurmountable task.

You paused just inside the door, taking a deep breath. Normally, the thought of seeing Jihoon’s relaxed face when he came home made all your efforts worth it. But tonight, your feet ached, your head pounded, and all you wanted was to collapse into bed.

Yet, as you stepped into the living room, you were greeted with a surprising sight. The house was immaculate, the usual clutter nowhere to be seen. The floor was spotless, and the cushions on the couch were perfectly arranged. You took a few more steps, and that’s when the scent hit you—your favorite dish, its aroma wafting through the air, pulling you toward the kitchen.

Your heart skipped a beat. There was no way Jihoon could’ve known how drained you felt before you even walked through the door. He was always the last to come home, often later than you, yet here he was, clearly having done all of this.

“Jihoon?” you called out, your voice tinged with confusion and a hint of awe.

Jihoon appeared from the kitchen, a warm smile lighting up his face. His apron was still tied around his waist, and he had a towel draped over his shoulder, as if he’d just finished cleaning up. “Hey,” he greeted you cheerfully, “You’re home earlier than I thought.”

You blinked at him, still processing what you were seeing. “How… how did you…?”

He chuckled at your confusion and walked over to you, taking your bag and setting it down by the door. “I got off work early today,” he explained casually, “So I thought I’d get everything done before you got home. I figured it’d be nice to have more time together tonight.”

His words warmed you from the inside out, but you still felt a lingering surprise. “But how did you know I had a rough day? I didn’t even message you about it.”

Jihoon’s eyes softened as he looked at you, a small smile playing on his lips. “I didn’t know,” he admitted, “But I just thought it might be nice to switch things up. And, well… maybe I had a feeling.”

You stared at him for a moment, the exhaustion in your body suddenly feeling a little lighter. “A feeling?”

He shrugged, almost sheepishly. “I don’t know… maybe we’re just in sync like that.”

A laugh escaped you, and you shook your head, leaning into him. “You’re making us sound like soulmates.”

Jihoon wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close and pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “Maybe we are,” he murmured into your hair, his voice low and comforting.

You closed your eyes, letting yourself relax into his embrace. The idea of soulmates always felt a bit too fantastical for you, but right now, it didn’t seem so far-fetched. The way Jihoon had known exactly what you needed, without you even having to ask, made you feel a connection that went beyond words.

“You didn’t have to do all this,” you whispered, your voice filled with gratitude. “But I’m really, really glad you did.”

Jihoon gently tilted your head up, looking into your eyes. “I wanted to,” he said simply. “You take care of me all the time, and I know how hard you work. It’s only fair that I do the same for you when I can.”

Your heart swelled with love for him, and you couldn’t help but smile, feeling tears prick at the corners of your eyes. “Thank you,” you said softly.

Jihoon leaned in and kissed you, slow and tender, as if he was pouring all his feelings into that one moment. When he pulled back, he was smiling again. “Now, come on, dinner’s ready. You just sit back and relax tonight, okay?”

You nodded, feeling a warmth settle in your chest that had nothing to do with the food waiting for you. As Jihoon led you to the table, you couldn’t help but wonder if maybe, just maybe, you were soulmates after all.

Even if it was a little too good to be true, you liked believing it—because Jihoon was your person, the one who understood you in ways no one else did, even when you didn’t have to say a word. And tonight, that was enough.

[lizard-on-a-window-pane]

hi gorgeous!! The way you write james has me thinking non stop about him for days (i need him fr) so on that note, can i please get a request where reader gets jealous for some reason and he doesn’t notice at first cause he only has eyes for her but she kind of gets clingier and a little grumpy so he talks to her and just lots of fluff and cuddles? Thank you <3

thank youu! comments like that make me want to be writing all the time really hope you like it!! sorry i got a little carried away length-wise

a confession among friends: getting called my boyfriend's sister actually happened to me once and i was soo pissed lmao

pairing: James Potter x reader word count: 4.1k (not completely proofread)

Boy-friend

You weren’t much in the mood for a party. No matter how many times Sirius clarified that it was only a “get together,” it was a party. Still, James had wanted to come, and there’d been plenty of times he’d come out because you were the one who felt like it, so you were happy to try to make the most of it. 

James comes up behind you now, surprising you and tickling you with no warning. You break out in full laughter but contort to smack him away. 

“Stop! stop!” you half laugh, half yell. 

“Alright, shortcake, but if I catch you looking grumpy again, you’re gonna get it,” he replies cheekily, giving you a playfully accusatory squint. “Shortcake” wasn’t your favourite of his nicknames, but it had stuck after one night the boys had had way too much to drink and way too much fun making fun of you for being the shortest of the group, not bothering with your contention that it wasn’t fair since you were the only girl.

“I was not looking grumpy.” 

“Given I’m the one who could see what you looked like, not you, I think my word counts for more here.” 

“What are you two on about?” Sirius interrupts, wrapping an arm around James’s shoulders in their typically brotherly way. 

“Was or was she not looking grumpy just now?” James asks.

“Was,” Sirius nods affirmatively.

“Whatever, you losers,” you roll your eyes at them. “Anyway, if I’m looking bored” — you glare at them before either corrects your word choice — “I feel justified in blaming the host of the party,” you smirk at Sirius.

“It’s not a party; it’s a get t—“ 

“A get together,” you both finish for him. 

“Yes, yes, we know, mate,” James laughs. “Lots of people in your flat for a ‘get together,’ don’t you think?” 

“Well, I’ve just made lots of cool friends recently. Thought it’d be nice for them to meet each other,” he shrugs.

“Always so generous,” you tease.

“‘Course,” he shrugs. “How else are you two annoyingly romantic recluses going to meet anyone new? You never leave your flat.”

“We do so,” you try, but it sounds damningly defensive. You cringe before Sirius can pounce and add, “Well, we’re here now aren’t we?”

“Fair. Glad you’ve graced me with your presence, L/N,” Sirius smiles.

Just then a small toy football whizzes past Sirius’s head. 

“Oi!” he yells, turning towards the source of the projectile. “No indoor football!” Then he grins his characteristically wolfish smile. “Not before I get to pick teams! I am host after all.” He grabs you by the wrist, dragging you with him. When you begin to object, he just shushes you with, “Weren’t you just complaining about being bored?” 

James comes too, no dragging necessary. You’re surprised to find Remus, usually so responsible, in the midst of the ball game crowd. 

You raise an eyebrow at him, and he chuckles, shrugging and telling you, “It’s Sirius’s flat. Do you think we’d even be able to tell if something got damaged?” He looks around at the messy space. 

You all start what was initially some kind of football game, but it just devolves into a drunken monkey in the middle situation. 

You get stuck in the middle, for frustratingly longer than most. It’s not fair Remus is so tall, and James so athletic. When you’ve finally had enough, you jump at James when he catches the ball, wrapping your arms around him, not even going for the ball.

“Hey!” he yells as he’s laughing. “Ref! Foul!” He shakes you loose, not without a fight from you. “That’s not the game,” he chides you. He lifts the ball high, and you make the mistake of reaching for it, obviously having no chance. “Gotta try better than that.” He hasn’t stopped laughing as you jump up and down like an idiot.

“I give up,” you announce, winded but smiling slightly.

“Such a sore loser,” he teases, ruffling your hair a bit and giving you a gentle playful push. 

“Whatever,” you push him back. “I’m thirsty. You want anything?”

“I’m good. Catch up in a sec.”

“‘Kay.”

He throws the ball over your head at a ready Sirius as you weave your way to the kitchen. 

You lean on the counter, drinking some water. You look back over toward your silly boyfriend and best friends, who are still playing the game, but your view is mostly blocked by a couple of girls who are also watching the shenanigans. You don’t mean to eavesdrop, but they’re standing very close to you. 

“He’s so cute,” says one of them, a strikingly attractive girl in heels that make her a whole head taller than the other girl. 

“Why am I not surprised? You have such a specific type,” laughs her friend. 

The gorgeous girl just shrugs, owning it with no shame. 

Having witnessed your fair share of such reactions, you automatically assume they’re talking about Sirius. You just smile and roll your eyes, used to it. 

Soon the boys are over the antics too even though the game continues without them, and they come get some water as well. James stands next to you as he downs his glass. He bumps his shoulder against yours, a common gesture between you. 

The girls turn toward your group now, and the especially pretty one says, “Thanks again for inviting us, Sirius. If I’d realized it was going to get so… physical” — she emphasizes the word seductively, as she nods back to where they had just been throwing the ball — “I wouldn’t’ve worn such high heels.” She kicks her foot back a bit, as if to show the heels she’s blaming, but you don’t miss her turn into it, showing off her (amazing) body.

Sirius just grins knowingly, unfazed. 

“You could always take them off,” he suggests nonchalantly. 

She giggles and retorts, “But they look so good on me.” 

You can’t help but think it’s incredible people actually just talk to each other this way. You feel like you’re watching a movie, sure you’d never feel bold enough to say something like that unless the other person knew it was your line. You’d never been particularly good at flirting, and getting together with James since back at school, you hadn’t had the need in a long time. Even with James, though, you’d never talked like this, not back then, not now. You were glad you didn’t feel the need; everything just came naturally when it came to James. He used to make you nervous from how much you liked him, sure, but for years, you’d become completely comfortable with him. The closest you came to flirting was your quite frequent teasing, but you teased Sirius and Remus as well, and they you. 

“Aren’t you going to introduce us to your friends?” The girl’s question breaks you from your thoughts, drawing your gaze to her. Her gaze, you come to find, is not on Sirius, but on James. Directly, aggressively on James. 

Oh god. Maybe it wasn’t Sirius after all. 

“Oh, how rude of me,” Sirius says, typically theatrical. “Lads, this is Jules and…” Jules introduces her friend, but you miss her name as a group of people near you laugh loudly. “And these are my best mates, Remus, James, and Y/N,” he gestures at each of you in turn. “We go back to our school days,” he adds kind of adorably.

“Oh, how cute!” says Jules. 

Ok, not that adorably. You cringe internally at her then feel a bit guilty for disliking this girl for very little reason. Well, maybe there was a reason… but it wasn’t one you felt often.

She hasn’t stopped staring at James the whole time, and you steal a glance at him now. He’s pouring himself more water, quite unaffected. He looks at her only when she addresses him directly. 

“You were so good at… whatever you all were doing over there,” she giggles. “James. It was James, right?”

Oh please. She obviously remembered.

“Yeah,” James smiles, wiping some water that had condensed around his glass. “Thanks,” he chuckles and shrugs. “Not much competition, though,” he adds teasingly, shoving Sirius on one side of him and splashing your face with the water droplets lingering on his fingers on the other.  

“Oh don’t be mean,” she says exaggeratedly, playfully hitting his shoulder. 

You are not a fan of how angry such minimal contact makes you. 

“I thought you put up a really good fight against someone so tall and clearly athletic,” she says to you, looking back toward James at the end of her sentence. 

James just laughs lightly and, turning to you, bumping your shoulder, asks, “What do you think, shortcake? You think you put up a good fight?” His tone is all teasing. 

“You two are too cute,” says Jules. 

Weird angle for her obvious flirting, you think. 

“Is this your sister?” she asks, pointing between the two of you. 

Oh god. You are simultaneously mortified and infuriated. 

Sirius breaks out laughing, saying, “I told you I bet other people play siblings or dating with you two when we go out.”

James starts saying something, but just then, the ball from the continued game hits the counter right next to you, knocking over a bunch of water glasses and startling you all.

“Alright,” Sirius chuckles. “Maybe enough with this shit.” He grabs the ball and goes to toss it in a closet. James goest to dry his arm where it got splashed. Remus starts cleaning up the mess. A loudly apologetic bloke you don’t know comes over to help.

The slight chaos has moved the conversation away from what was just happening, and you have no idea how to clarify things without being incredibly awkward. 

His sister? What the fuck? Did this girl really not mind being a total bitch to get what she wanted or, worse, did she actually think you were siblings? Did you look like siblings to the rest of the world? Should it bother you so much if you did?

You’re reeling, and start thinking back to what could’ve given her that impression. Your stomach sinks at the realization of so much playful bumping, hair ruffling, and the like. You can’t remember kissing James once tonight. Maybe this isn’t out of the ordinary, with your slight aversion to PDA, but not once? You realize also how many of your gestures toward James you’d also done toward Sirius. How much they behaved similarly not just with you but with each other. Oh god. Were you that sisterly? 

You panic, reach for a kitchen towel, and start drying your damp boyfriend, getting way too close and speaking way too loudly when you say, “Let me help you with that, baby.” 

James is a little taken aback. You never call him baby. In fact, though his calling you pet names is common, the reverse is rare. You usually stick with “Jamie” … or some dumb teasing insult like “loser.”

“Uh, it’s fine,” he chuckles confusedly. “Wasn’t that much.” You nod and put the towel down. “You okay?” he asks. 

“Fine,” you say too quickly.

You glance toward Jules to gauge her reaction, but she’s busy also drying off, her friend having gotten the worst of it, and you’re not sure whether she heard you.

“Wanna go sit down? I’m tired,” you tell James, dragging him by the hand, which you don’t let go of even after he’s clearly following you, back to the living room. 

You pull him down to the couch, where you proceed to sit way too close to him despite there being more room on your other side and wind your arm under his as you continue to hold his hand. You kiss his cheek as he settles in. 

He’s smiling but asks, “What’s with you, love?”

“Nothing,” you say, but your voice sounds off even to you. You kiss him again, and even more confusion seeps into his smile. 

You’re trying to think of something “couple-y” to do but come up with absolutely nothing, an awkward air arising between the two of you as you squirm. You literally cannot remember the last time you felt awkward with him, and now you add feeling guilty into the mix. At your insecurities, at your jealousy, at his slight discomfort, you’re not even sure at what, but it’s awful. 

“You sure you’re alright, sweetheart? You’re all tense, and I’m pretty sure I’ve lost circulation in my hand at this point,” he chuckles. You notice your grip is vice-like. 

His tone is light, but yours is not as you snap, “I’m just holding your hand. I’m your girlfriend; that shouldn’t be weird.”

His smile fades quickly as he answers, “Uh… I didn’t say it was weird, Y/N. Just too tight?” It sounds like a question, but that’s probably just because he seems very confused overall. 

“Right. Sorry.” Your voice is much softer now as you let go of his hand. 

“It’s fine. Obviously. I just… Um…” He’s searching for what to say, wanting to comfort you but unsure what you even needed comforting from. He opts for just reaching for your hand again, straining a smile though his eyebrows remain in a confused furrow.

“You wanna go disorganize Sirius’s beloved record collection?” he asks mischievously.

“No, not really,” you say softly, not feeling like a prank right now even though you usually did. 

“Um, ok.” James looks a bit awkward. “You hungry?”

“No.” 

“Right.” A silence. “Let’s just sit here then,” he says, probably a bit more sarcastically than intended. 

“Is that so bad? Do we always have to be doing something for me to be fun?” you shoot, standing up. “Why don’t you go find Sirius or Remus, James. I’m sure it won’t even make a difference.” You turn away angrily, but he follows you up quickly and stops you. 

“Whoah, what’s up, shortcake?” he asks, eyes wide. 

“Don’t call me that. It sounds like you’re teasing your little sister.” 

You see something in his eyes at the word “sister,” but you turn and keep trying to walk away before you have time to really analyse it.  

James is following you but he has to weave between a group of people you managed to avoid, so you get to the bathroom before he catches up. He knocks a second later. 

“Y/N? Can we talk please?” You don’t say anything. “Come on, Y/N. Let me in. Or you come out.” You lean against the door but still don’t say anything. 

“I just want to know you’re okay,” he says more softly this time. 

“I’m fine,” you say, softly too. “I just need a second, okay? I’ll be out in a minute.” 

“You sure?” 

“Yeah, just give me a minute.” 

“Alright, love, but just come back quick, alright?” 

You’re not even really sure what you’re doing in here. You just need to collect yourself, you guess. You fiddle with some stuff on the sink then find yourself looking in the mirror. 

An ugly thought arises, and you hate it, trying to push it away. It comes back anyway. 

She’s much prettier than me… 

That distorted inner voice doesn’t stop there. 

And better at being a girl.

“You’re being ridiculous,” you whisper out loud to yourself. “Completely ridiculous.”

You wash your hands even though you haven’t used the toilet, shaking your head, your gaze fixed on your hands. Then you go back out into the party. 

James is across the room, talking to Remus, but staring at the door you just came out of. As soon as he sees you, he pats Remus on the shoulder, saying something quickly, and starts moving toward you. 

He’s stopped in the middle of the room by a perfectly manicured hand on his chest. It’s attached to Jules, of course, and your glare hardens. You’re too far away to hear what she says to him, her hand lingering on him. 

James shakes his head a bit at whatever she’s saying, his eyes coming back toward you quickly. He gives her a glance again and a nod then his hand comes to her shoulder. You’re eyes are glued to where they connect, and so your gaze follows the motion of James’s hand gently pushing her body aside. A moment later, it detaches as he continues walking toward you. You haven’t moved when he reaches you.

“Hey,” he says simply. 

“Hi,” you return. You look away from his face, shy and confused about what to tell him. 

His hand gently guides your chin back up, and you lose yourself in his beautiful eyes for a second. He gives you his warmest smile, and you give him a pitiful but sincere one back.

“You wanna talk about what the hell just happened?” he laughs lightly. 

“Isn’t it obvious?” you try. You’re not sure you want it to be, but you’re too embarrassed to explain and would take any option that meant you didn’t have to. 

“Actually, it wasn’t,” he chuckles. “When you got weird, I thought it was just because you didn’t want to come tonight,” he starts. “But I still didn’t understand the specific… I don’t know, kind? of weird you got.” His lips quirk into a teasing-adjacent smile here, but your face immediately contorts in embarrassment. You cover it with your hand, but James quickly removes yours with his. “Hey, hey, no, sorry. I’m sorry. It’s alright, lovely.” He caresses your hand he’s still holding. “I’m not teasing, okay?” He smiles at you, and you just keep watching him, but your face relaxes a bit. “Then,” he exhales dramatically, “Remus asked me how you reacted to that girl flirting with me right in front of you then calling you my sister.” He grimaces. 

Thank God for Remus, you think, the only emotionally aware man you’ve ever met.

“I hadn’t noticed the first part, sweetheart,” James adds. “The flirting part, I mean. I’m sorry, pretty girl. I mean, she didn’t know I had a girlfriend — clearly — but I would’ve just told her I did if that ball hadn’t hit us.”

“She was really into you,” you say before thinking, unsure where that’s supposed to take the conversation. 

“Was she? Huh.” He sounds slightly amused, but you know he’s acting to amuse you. 

“You really couldn’t tell?” you ask him. There’s disbelief in your voice, but you’re smiling a bit at him. He takes a step closer to you.

“I mean, I guess in retrospect, it makes sense,” he says honestly. “But I guess I’m out of practice,” he laughs. “And more importantly, I don’t care who’s really into me because I’m really into you, you silly girl.”

You exhale, your heart warming and most of your heavy emotions leaving you. You squeeze his hand, and shaking your head at yourself, bring it to rest on his chest. James chuckles into your hairline, kissing the top of your head and holding it close, his fingers interweaving into your hair.

“I’m sorry,” you mumble, your mouth squished against him. 

You can feel him shake his head since he’s resting it on yours.

“No need,” he smiles. “I’m sorry. Was quite daft.” You laugh into his chest. You wipe away a tiny tear you’d been about to shed then rest your hand on his chest. The image reminds you, and you jolt upright, looking into his face again. He looks startled but amused. 

“What?”

“What was she saying to you? Just now?” You nod toward where they’d been talking. He laughs a full laugh. 

“She was telling me we should ditch this get together and go to her place.” He wiggles his eyebrows goofily. 

“Jamieee,” you scold, smacking his chest. He grabs hold of your hand and holds it to his heart, thumb caressing the back of it. His other hand still at the nape of your neck. 

“She was telling me,” he leans in conspiratorially, “‘sorry for not realizing your girlfriend was your girlfriend,’” he chuckles again. “I guess your little show worked afterward.”

“And what’d you say?”

“Does it matter?” It’s not harsh; he’s all warmth now. Knowing him, you realize he probably just doesn’t see the point of lingering.

“I just want to know,” you say.

“I said I didn’t care and it was fine or something.” He shrugs. “Can’t remember my exact words. Had more important things — a more important person — on my mind, to be honest.” He smiles at you. You smile back. 

“I love you,” you tell him. 

“I love you too,” he replies with a laugh as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “So much,” he adds, a bit more seriously, and kisses your forehead.

You just stand there, close to each other, your head back on his chest, his arms around you, for a few moments.

Then, leaning back to look at his face, you ask seriously, “Do you really?”

He looks confused by your question, its sincerity. “Of course I do. I adore you. You don’t know that?” His question has more than a tinge of hurt under it. 

“No,” you chuckle. But before he can get the wrong idea, you quickly continue, “Of course I know that.” You smile earnestly, and he seems comforted. “I mean, do you really not care? That she couldn’t tell I was your girlfriend?” Your voice grows softer and softer as you ask, and it’s a mere whisper by the end.

“No, sweetheart,” he smiles. “I don’t. I know. And you know. Who cares what other people think?”

“I did,” you scold yourself. “I’m sorry I got so weird. I just… I got really insecure about being just like Sirius or Remus to you. I know I’m just one of you in some ways —“

He cuts you off, “Yeah, baby, you’re one of us in some ways, but not in every way. The four of us, we have something special,” he nods. “But the two of us, we have something special too.” He tightens your embrace. “Seriously special. Yeah, we’re… what? friendly? sometimes. But, darling, you are not like Sirius or Remus to me.” He brings his hand to your face, caressing your cheek. “For starters, I don’t want to kiss Sirius or Remus, and they’re pretty good looking blokes,” he jokes. “And I don’t want to tell them about every single thing that makes me smile — just a lot of them — and about everything important in my life. I don’t need to make sure they’re happy and safe absolutely all of the time. I don’t feel warm and happy to be alive every time I look at them, and I don’t love cuddling with them at night, waking up to them in the morning. Not to even mention the other things that happen in that bed…” Now you laugh too.

“Yeah,” you nod, getting convinced.

“Yeah?” he pushes. 

“Yeah,” you say certainly. 

“Good.” 

You hum a warm assent.

“Now what do you say we ditch this get together and go back to our place?” 

You roll your eyes at him but laugh as you nod. 

“Yeah, let’s go home.” 

He’s nodding as he shifts his arm across your shoulders, kissing the top of your head and continuing to hold you close as you walk toward Sirius and Remus to say goodbye. 

“Leaving already?” Sirius complains, teasing you about being antisocial and lame. 

“Sorry, mate, but I really want to cuddle up with my girlfriend right now, and this doesn’t seem like the best place for that.”

“Ugh, so cheesy, Prongs. Just leave already,” he says, feigning disgust and pushing James away. 

“Good night, gorgeous,” Sirius tells you, kissing your cheek carelessly like he’s done a million times. Similar words, similar gestures, yes, you think, but they don’t feel the same at all. You smile.

“Good night, Siri,” you say. You and James hug Remus too. 

James puts his arm back around you as you go to leave. You smile up at him, then, mischief in your eyes, you push him away and walk faster. 

“You’re all sweaty, Potter. Gross.” He laughs and play chases you all the way out the door. 

Once you’re on the other side of it, enveloped by the welcoming quiet privacy of the night, he catches up to you and pulls you to him. You resist for only a moment, your laughter intermingling with his, then you melt into his embrace.

“C’mere, gorgeous,” James huffs, kissing you ardently. “Can’t wait to get home with you,” he whispers before kissing you again.

[ghost-proofbaby]

fictional boyfriends (e.m.)

summary: eddie gets jealous of your newest fictional boyfriend from a game he got you into.

warnings: kinda sweet. kinda cringe. eddie is jealous of astarion. twilight reference jumpscare. not edited. biting and vague mentions of sex at the end.

wc: 2.5k+

a/n: this is the dumbest, cringiest thing i have ever written. but on this side of town, we embrace the cringe <3 happy valentine's day, enjoy me combining my current favorite fictional men (astarion and eddie) for my own personal delight. maybe one day i'll write a serious fic regarding the biting kink

It’s not that biting had ever been off the table with Eddie, per se.

Nips between kisses, using a little more teeth when he’d kiss across your neck, a joking sinking of your teeth into his shoulder when you were vying for his attention — they were all normal occurrences between the two of you. There was just never much discussion about it. No conversation explicitly had in which the two of you said, “Why, yes. This is something I’d like to bring into the bedroom.” 

Until that damn game.

When Eddie introduced you to Baldur’s Gate 3, the last thing he expected was to watch all your free time you used to spend pestering him suddenly handed over to some fictional vampire. He thought it’d be a game you tried, grew tired of, lost interest in, and that was that. Nothing more, nothing less. He didn’t expect a sudden competition for your goddamn affections. 

“Baby, please come to bed,” he all but whines as he drapes himself over your shoulders, trying to nudge off your headphones. He could feel just how warm your ears had grown beneath them. He swears he can feel your back crack from the slightest bit of his weight on your shoulders. And, sue him — he was tired and he wanted to cuddle. 

“One more minute,” you mumble the same phrase to him that he has used a million times on you; he instantly knows it’ll be far more than just sixty more seconds if he agrees, “Let me just finish this-“

“No,” he’s still whining, but it’s more stern now as he properly removes your headset, earning a glare from your bloodshot eyes, “You’ve been playing this game all afternoon, sweetheart. I think I might die if you don’t offer me some immediate attention. Truly.”

For emphasis, he lays more of his body weight on you, your chair creaking from holding up both of you now. 

“Eddie,” you moan out, wiggling beneath his dead-weight, “I swear to God, get off of me-“

“I’ll get off of you if you come to bed.”

You pause. Your hands hover near your keyboard and mouse, but you’re no longer walking your avatar across the world of Baldur’s Gate, and he knows he has you considering it.

More weight. More groans. At this rate, he’s questioning if your chair won’t break from his outrageous method to get your attention. 

“Fine.” 

The small yes he lets out only earns him a punch to the shoulder. But it gets you off the game, and that’s still a win for him.

He doesn’t even care about appearing over eager as you follow him back to the bedroom. He’s gone as far as preparing the bed, pillows fluffed and comforted pulled back while awaiting your arrival. He’s already washed his face and brushed his teeth (something he usually fights you on as you nag him before bed), and the moment he’s got you in the room with him, he’s dragging you right onto the mattress with him.

“You’re gonna hurt us!” you yelp as he wraps his arms around you and flops down, dragging you with him, but it’s through a laugh. He knows you really couldn’t care less — he’d never deliberately injure you, irritated about your newest fictional boyfriend or not. 

“Oh, no,” he mocks, rolling so you’re laying on top of him, “What ever will you do if I injure one of your precious wrists, and you can’t use it to flirt with your new boy toy tomorrow?” 

“Astarion would be devastated,” you giggle into his chest, not moving off of him despite all your protests. It’s nice — to feel the full weight of you, to just get to bury his nose in the crown of your head as he shamelessly inhales the sweet lingering scent of your coconut shampoo, “He’s even needier than you.” 

“Yeah, ‘cause you serve as his functional juice box.”

“I do not!” you wiggle against him, and it only makes him tighten his arms, “He’s needy because he loves me.”

“Well that makes one of us.” 

Your head lifts off his chest in an instant, faux offense shadowing your features, “You tryin’ to say you don’t love me, Munson?”

He smirks, pressing his lips together tightly, making you huff in frustration. 

Of course he loves you. There wouldn’t be a ring in his sock drawer that he’s terrified of you finding if he didn’t. 

You pout, subtly and adorably so, starting to lift off of him, “If you’re going to be mean, I’m just going to go back to someone who appreciates me-“

“Mean?” he scoffs, enjoying himself far too much. He’s missed your attention, your affection. The effect it has on him is similar to a high, making him dizzy on serotonin as he rolls over and pins you between him and the mattress, “Oh, baby, that’s not me being mean. I can show you mean, if you want.” 

He’s always thought you looked prettiest like this. Under him, eyes wide as you look up at him as if he’s the only thing in this room worth looking at. Worth more than your prized bookshelf, more interesting than all the various posters the two of you have hung on the walls. You look at him as though he’s the greatest thing to exist in these four walls, and he doesn’t take it lightly when your favorite albums and candles are right there.

“You don’t have a mean bone in your body, Munson,” you whisper softly, face going soft for him. The two of you are still surely joking around, the playfulness of it all thick in the air, but there’s something genuine in your words that makes him even more enamored with you. 

He should have predicted you’d fall for Astarion when he showed you the game. You had a thing for people who put up the tough front, but who really just needed a little extra softness and patience under the surface. He was living proof of it.

Unlike your fictional vampire boyfriend. 

“Yeah?” he taunts, leaning down until the tip of his nose brushes yours. His hair works like a curtain, messy as ever as he shields the two of you from the outside world. One of your hands have crept up so that you palm rests against his cheek, and he can hardly remember that flare of jealousy that had gnawed at him when you’d spent your entire afternoon absorbed in the game instead of him, “I bet I could be meaner than Astarion. Although, I’m not sure just how mean that man has ever been to you, given all the war crimes you commit for his approval-“

He’s cut off when the thumb of the hand cradling his face trails up, pressing on his bottom lip. It only makes him grow even closer to you, pressing in, drawn by your touch.

You squint your eyes at him jokingly before cooing, “Someone sounds jealous.”

“Damn right,” he doesn’t even try to deny it, caught in the web of your trap with ease, “Does your pixelated lover even know what a catch he’s got?” 

You snort adorably at that. He pulls away to see the full force of your laughter, lifting up into his elbows to admire how your face scrunches with your smile. He bets Astarion would make some sarcastic comment about it — about the crinkles by your eyes that he aches to pepper with kisses, about the indents in your cheeks when you smile this wide, about the sound of your genuine laughter when you unrestrained and entirely comfortable like this. But there’s not a single joke forming on Eddie’s tongue. He’s all but hypnotized. 

God, he fucking loves you. So much so he’s jealous of a video game character.

“I’m not sure I’d consider this,” you lift the hand not holding him carefully still to motion at your current state of being, “A catch, my love.” 

He has to disagree. Messy hair or not, wrinkled pajamas or not.  You’re the greatest catch of this entire existence; not just Eddie’s, but the Universe’s. Nothing you could say or point out would deter him from this belief. He loves you, mess and all.

“My love?” he chooses to tease instead, all the words of affection threatening to choke him if he so much as considers letting them pour out, “I like the sound of that. If that’s the Astarion effect, maybe he isn’t so bad after all.”  

His elbows are sinking deeper into the mattress. With every passing second, his face is dropping closer to yours, and he’s not sure if it’s by instinct or choice. But when his lips finally brush yours, he decides it’s all the same — it doesn’t really matter what sort of gravity is at work here, as long as it keeps bringing him down closer to you.

“Shut up about the game and kiss me, Eddie.” 

He doesn’t have to be told twice.

The kiss is as sweet as ever. A comfortable dance that still sends shivers down his spine. If either of you looked closer at his arms bracketing your shoulders, you’d see the goosebumps raising as you eagerly returned all his affection.

You taste like the chocolates you’d been snacking on during your gaming. You taste like the greatest gift ever given, and he doesn’t care if he’s exaggerating or not. You’re divine — his favorite good morning and his only goodnight. 

And he’d say all that, but you’d probably accuse him of trying too hard to be like Astarion. Probably bring up that ridiculous line the character once said about you being made by the Gods, just to ruin him.

You were, though. Made by the Gods, specifically to ruin Eddie. Fuck the game. 

“You know,” he whispers against your lips, breaking for air as he adjusts positions. Your thighs open up and welcome him home, letting him slot right between your legs comfortably. He’s not trying to seduce you, but he can’t even be mad about it. He feels like a starved man now that your attention has been divided as of late, “If you wanted a lover who bites, all you had to do was ask, darling.” 

If you weren’t so wrapped up in the kisses he was pressing down your jaw and along your neck, you would have ripped him to shreds for the awful impersonation. 

But you’re already far gone, lost in his touches and his adorations. You let the half-assed attempt at a British accent slide, and you even bare your neck to him at the minute threat. 

Biting had never been off the table, per se, and Eddie was really fucking glad for it.

When he presses one, two, three greedy kisses to that sweet spot just below your ear, he has one intention in mind. Not his usual sucking and nipping and soothing, not leaving behind one of his ordinary love bites. No, he lets himself get caught up in the moment, and when he catches that quiver of excitement the moment he drags his teeth over your neck carefully, he’s fully committed to his decision.

He bites.

Not hard enough to draw blood, or even be terribly painful. He knows it’s nothing like the game or any of your subsequent fantasies you might have had from it. His canines are fairly dull, even as they dig carefully into the skin of your neck, holding for a moment for effect. But your legs tighten around his hips, and he almost wishes he was a damn vampire, able to actually pierce your skin in the moment. Drink your blood. Whatever the allure was with the origin companion.

You let out a soft gasp which has him keeping your skin between his teeth a few extra seconds, and then he’s letting go. Lifting his head and looking into your eyes, a silent exchange of is this okay?

If the glazed over look is anything to go off of, it’s more than okay.

He returns with reckless abandon, switching between his usual desperate kisses and the newer, sharper ones. He has one goal in mind: to mark you up as his, to the point in which you’ll be scolding him in the morning. It’s like a drug, to feel you writhe beneath him as he paints the picture. 

Love notes of freshly born bruises, the imprints of his teeth – a letter across your delicate skin that reads, he was here, and he loved you, more than anyone else in this Universe may ever be capable of. 

“If I had known how much biting would rile you up, I would’ve started doing it ages ago,” he mumbles into the crook of your neck, finally pausing his assault. 

He settles for softer presses of his lip, peppering the affection where he had been a bit more violent. 

Your hands that had taken to tangling into the curls at the nape of his neck have gone more relaxed, no longer tugging but instead just lingering. Pulling him closer. Touching him with softer hands than he’s ever felt deserving of. 

“Guess you’ve got a certain vampire to thank for that,” you tease, but he can hear just how breathless he’s left you. He had sworn he could feel the pulse of your facing heart beneath his lips, even if just for a moment. Even if he just imagined it. 

“Please. Astarion is not getting the credit for that,” he scoffs, lifting up onto his elbows again to just look at you. His lover, his favorite person. It’s nice to see your face when it’s not washed over with the cast of a computer screen. “That was all me. And even if it wasn’t, I won’t forget that you had a Twilight phase.” 

Your hand quickly drops between the two of you, only to smack at his chest. The thump holds no weight as you whine, “I told you that in confidence.” 

He dips down, capturing one last kiss, “It’s okay, baby. It’s good to know that you have a type.”

“I do not-”

He cuts you off with a more playful bite to your neck. Less about marking you, and more just to make a point. 

“Just,” another nip, “admit,” another graze of his teeth, “it.” 

You’re fighting a smile when he looks down at you again, impossible to hide behind your mask of annoyance. “I am not admitting that I have a thing for broody, pathetic vampires.” 

“Well, I’ve got broody and pathetic down-”

“Eddie,” your thighs still bracket him, one hand still clinging to the back of his neck. When you say his name, the game is over. “We can spend all night bickering over the fictional men I love, or you can give me a reason to forget their names. It’s up to you.” 

His eyebrows jump up his forehead, and he’s just about to give up the bit, but not before one last snide remark.

“Kind of hard to do that when I share a name with one of them, but as you wish, sweetheart.” 

Another bout of beautiful laughter from him. Another smack on the chest from you. It’s good – it’s everything Eddie has ever wanted, and it is good.

He does, of course, make you forget their names. And if you find it difficult to get out of bed the next moment, dramatically unable to make the walk to your gaming computer, well – he won’t try to hide his smug smile in between the soft rays of morning light.

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