#for hygiene … I’m just… Like That…. turn off the lights as quickly as possible for financial and not only environmental reasons…like why am

[skzdust]

Room 514

Part 3

Sorry this part took so long! I finally had a ton of time to write this morning and I'm getting a lot done! I hope you guys all enjoy it!

Summary: You’re moving into a new suite halfway through your sophomore year at Stay University, populated by three guys: Jisung, Changbin, and Bang Chan. You meet their friends and quickly become a part of their group, but you find yourself wanting more with Jisung…

Pairing: Han Jisung x Reader

Includes: sleepy reader, sleepy Jisung, shirtless Jisung, shopping, Jisung being a gentleman

Word count: 1.5k

Taglist (Comment on a post/send an ask if you'd like to be added): @weirdowithaphone, @caught-in-the-afterglow, @palindrome969, @skzstan12345

Reblogs, likes, comments all appreciated!!!

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 4 | Part 5

Masterlist

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You blinked your eyes open as a beam of sunlight fell over your face.

Apparently, you’d fallen asleep in the living room. You didn’t remember putting a pillow next to Jisung and curling up with your head against it, nor did you remember Jisung going to get another blanket, but he must have at some point. You were still under the fluffy throw he’d brought out when you’d first started The Immortal and the Restless, and you could see a blue quilt out of the corner of your eye.

You carefully sat up, trying not to disturb Jisung. He was in the same fetal position you’d woken up in, with his head on top of the pillow instead of against it. His quilt was draped over him, and you could see the corner of the fabric scrunched in one of his hands. The morning light made his hair seem to glitter as the air from the ceiling vent gently played with it, and his face was serene and unguarded.

He rubbed one of his eyes as you stood up from the couch. You held your breath as he stretched. The blanket slid off his side as he unfolded his legs, and your eyes widened as his back arched.

He opened his eyes with a sleepy smile, and you made your expression as normal as possible.

He scrunched up his nose. “What’s wrong? You’re making a weird face.”

“Nothing’s wrong, I’m making a normal face.”

“Mhm.” He smiled again, closing his eyes and letting his head fall sideways onto the pillow. “Normal face.” He ran one of his hands through his hair.

You fought the urge to also run a hand through his hair. “How many episodes in did we get last night?”

He shrugged, eyes still shut. “Dunno. I think I turned it off after three, but they’re each an hour long and I was mostly asleep by the third one.”

“Yeah.” You yawned. “I only really remember the first half of the second one.”

“It’s okay. We can rewatch. No rush.”

“I liked what I remember.”

His smile grew a little bigger. “Good, glad to hear that. It’s one of my favorites.”

You looked at him for a moment longer. His eyes were still closed, and he looked so relaxed, more relaxed than you’d ever seen him.

He opened his eyes and raised his eyebrows, and your cheeks reddened.

“Staring? I know, I know, I’m gorgeous, you just can’t take your eyes off me.”

“That’s not it, I… you’re… ugh.”

He laughed softly. “Just kidding.” He stretched again and sat up. “I am gonna take a shower, though. Maybe we could do something after, if you don’t have calculus to do?”

You did your best not to imagine Jisung in the shower and waved a hand, dismissing both your thoughts and Jisung’s concern. “Calculus isn’t due until Tuesday. It’s Sunday. Plenty of time.”

“Okay, well, I’ll meet you out here in a few minutes and we’ll figure out somewhere to go.”

You nodded. “Sounds good.”

You went back to your room and sat on your bed, staring forward.

Did that really just happen?

You got changed and did your morning hygiene, changing your outfit a couple of times before deeming it good enough. You went back out to the living room and sat down on the couch, scrolling on your phone for a minute.

A staticky noise stopped, and you realized Jisung was still in the bathroom. He must’ve just turned off the shower.

A minute later, the bathroom door opened.

Jisung’s hair was wet, wearing a towel draped around his remarkably hot waist and… nothing else.

You looked down, hoping he wouldn’t notice you.

“I’ll be ready in a minute.” Jisung smiled at you as you looked at him.

You focused on keeping your eyes on his face and not his body, smiling back. “Cool.”

As Jisung disappeared into his room, you took a deep breath.

His body is perfect, too. That’s really not fair.

He walked out a minute later in a jeans and a green hoodie layered under a leather jacket. “Anything you’d like to do?”

You shrugged. “Nothing’s coming to mind except shopping, but I’m kinda broke right now, so I dunno about that.”

“We can try stuff on, though!” Jisung tossed his car keys from one hand to the other. “Come on, I’ll drive us to the mall.”

“Okay, I can try stuff on.”

Jisung beamed. “Perfect.”

The mall wasn’t particularly close, but it was a pleasant drive. You chatted the whole way, and Jisung was a good driver, unlike many of your friends—your old friends, you reminded yourself. Strangely, thinking of them didn’t hurt when you were with Jisung.

You parked and got out of the car, Jisung running around the front and opening your door for you.

“Thank you.”

“Of course.” His smile was like sunshine as he shut the door behind you and locked the car.

You walked into the mall, and he took your hand, guiding you towards a store with a few cute tops in the window. “Ooh, these are cool!”

You walked in and found one of the tops in your size, a light green bustier with ruching across the front and cap sleeves. “Isn’t this one cute?”

“Very cute.” Jisung agreed. “You should try it on!” “I think I will.” You nodded and walked off in search of a dressing room.

You put on the top, struggling with it a bit before realizing there was a side zipper. It looked great on you, fitting like a glove.

You pulled back the curtain and walked out. “Jisung?”

“Here!”

You walked out to the sitting area outside the dressing rooms, doing a little twirl for him.

He smiled, watching you. “Beautiful, you look… amazing.”

“Aw, thank you.” You did a little curtsey, immediately realizing it made no sense since you weren’t wearing a skirt and the top wasn’t that fancy. “I don’t know why I did that.”

Jisung laughed. “It was cute. How much is the top?”

You tried not to think too hard about Jisung calling you cute and looked at the price tag, doing a double take. “Wow, 85 dollars.”

“Damn.” Jisung’s lips twisted. “It looks good, though. Do you want me to get it for you?”

“No, I couldn’t let you do that.” You waved off his offer. “I’d feel bad.”

“I want to, though!”

“I’d feel guilty, though!” You mirrored his language.

Jisung sighed. “Go change back, and we can keep looking, there was this sweater vest with an apple on the front that I really liked.”

“Why don’t you try it on? You’d probably eat it up.”

“I would.” Jisung preened. “Maybe I will.”

You walked back into the dressing room and put your T-shirt back on, carefully adjusting the top on its hanger and walking back out to Jisung. You hung it up on the return rack. “Where’s the sweater vest?”

“Over here.” He stood up, and you followed him to the sweater vests.

“It’s cropped! Cute.” You took it off the rack, feeling the material between your fingers. “Oh, it’s soft, too.”

“Perfect.” Jisung pulled out the vest in his size, and you went back to the dressing rooms. He pranced out a moment later with the sweater vest on.

The crop exposed the bottom part of his abs, and his arms were muscular. The combination of the light green of the trim, the red of the apple, and the cream background looked great on him.

You were reminded of earlier in the morning, when you’d seen him shirtless, and you could feel yourself go red.

“It looks great!”

“Everything okay? You look a little flushed.” Jisung looked concerned.

“Yeah.” You laughed. “All good, just a bit hot.”

“Yeah, it is warm in here.” Jisung nodded, and you exhaled, a little bit relieved. “But you like it?”

“I love it.” You said sincerely.

“Maybe I’ll get it.” He pulled at the hem. “It’s a little tight, but I want it a little tight. I like to wear either oversized stuff or tight stuff. No in between.”

“It’s a good style on you.” Both of those options are really hot.

“Okay, I’m gonna change out of this, if you want to look around a little more, I’ll find you.”

You stood up. “Okay, perfect.”

You walked over to one of the racks, looking at a pink satin top with a large bow across the front. It was cute, not quite your style, but very cute. You walked through the store, but nothing else caught your eye the way the green top had.

Someone tapped you on the shoulder, and you whirled you around, startled.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.” Jisung smiled, holding out a bag.

“Hm?”

“Look inside.”

You did so. Inside was your green top, a receipt stuffed on top of it.

You looked back up at him. “You did not.”

He gave you a mischievous smile. “I did.”

“Jisung! I told you it’d make me feel guilty!”

“Don’t feel guilty! I did it because I wanted to! It looks like it was made for you.”

You couldn’t stop yourself from smiling, taking the bag. “Thank you. I’ll wear it, I promise.”

“You definitely need to. I also got that sweater vest, which has green trim, so we can kinda match!”

“Perfect!”

“Perfect.” Jisung beamed.

[vydumaj]

.

[wheelsup]

okay but can you imagine spencer washing your hair for you?

like, i never (ever) let anyone (at all) touch my hair, but i feel like he'd be really gentle about it, and there is just something so soft and tender to me about the idea of washing someone's hair for them 🥺

that’s my dream <3 ik you didnt specifically ask for a blurb but i think about this very often. i wrote two versions of this, but this one (with two bickering best friends who are v much in love) won my heart. 

wc: 1.6k   contains: friends (to crushes, maybe ;) ), injured reader. gn!reader

-

“Spence, I promise you that I can do it by myself,” you huffed, attempting to yank off your tank top as you walked toward the hotel bathroom, using only one arm while trying to keep the other as still as possible.

“I’d be more inclined to believe you if you didn’t sound like you were going to cry,” he snickered, following hot on your trail as you tried to escape his hovering. 

“You’re being dramatic.” 

“Oh really? Lift your arm up, then.” He leaned his hip against the marble counter, crossing his arms over his chest as he waited for you to do it. One obnoxiously smug eyebrow arched on his forehead.

Sometime during the case, you’d gotten into a brief tousle with a suspect, who just had to run away when approached. If Morgan had been there, you wouldn’t have even batted a lash, but he wasn’t. So not only had you detained him by yourself, you also wound up with a minor pulled muscle in your shoulder. 

You shot him a sarcastic smile, toothless and irritated, and raised your right arm into the air. He let out an airy scoff. 

“Other one, smart ass.”

Your arm dropped down to your side, your smile falling with it as you turned sharply towards the shower. 

“Look, I’m disgusting right now. So either I suck it up and shower, or you’re going to smell me until the day we solve this case.”

Spencer’s nose crinkled at the gross truth. He wasn’t ungentlemanly enough to tell you, but sharing a bed with a coworker was quite a quick way to discover if they were in need of a shower or not. Your shoulder might be out of service, but both of you could agree that hygiene was a bigger priority. 

“You can’t even move. Just… just let me help you.”

You snorted. “Nice try, Reid. I’m not letting you shower with me.”

He rolled his eyes at your use of his last name. You only called him that when you were annoyed with him. He pushed off the counter and turned to the wall, hitting the light switch and earning a shriek from you as the room suddenly went dark. 

“I won’t look,” he shrugged, amusing no one but himself. 

“You’re a clown, you know that?” you muttered under your breath, drawing back the shower curtain and fumbling around, searching for the knobs in pitch black. “Absolutely fucking theatrical.” 

You found them moments later and ran the water, testing the temperature on the back of your hand. By the time it went from cold to warm, you noticed that he still hadn’t moved. From the sliver of light peeking under the door, you could make out just his silhouette in the corner, perched on the vanity. 

He was being stubborn about this. That, and the comforting fact that you couldn’t see a single thing –– thankfully, not even his face –– wore you down.

“Close your eyes,” you murmured. 

“It’s already pitch black in here ––”

“Close your eyes, Reid.”

Sighing through his nose, he did just that. To make sure you knew it, and also maybe just to be annoying, he made a show of getting off the counter and turning himself around to face the wall. You peeled out of your clothes as quickly as you could. In the process, you caught the long shower curtain under the heel of your foot and, as you stumbled over it, accidentally dragged it along, sending the metal curtain hooks screeching as they slid along the bar.  

The second you found your ground, you immediately shot daggers into the back of Spencer’s head, waiting for him to make a joke. As if he could feel them, he bit back his quip. Not without letting a barely contained cackle slip under his breath. 

“Okay,” you warned, stepping into the shower. Grabbing the end of the shower curtain, you pulled it tightly over your body to cover yourself as you poked your chin out to talk to him. “I’m in.”

Spencer turned and approached the shower, eyes still shut with his hands out in front of him, feeling the walls for guidance. He was still mocking you for making him close his eyes. You raised your brows; he must’ve thought he was quite funny. 

“You look like Velma when she loses her glasses.”

That knocked the funny bone right out of him. His hands dropped to his sides.

“Just get your hair wet and hand me the shampoo.” 

You drew the curtain shut again as you dipped your head under the shower stream, coming back moments later with sopping wet hair and a little bottle of complimentary hotel shampoo. 

He let you sit on the floor of the bathtub, just slightly removed from the spray of the water. Your back was to him, as he kneeled down on the tile floor, just outside of the bathtub so he didn’t have to get wet. You bent your knees to your chest, resting your chin on them.

Spencer first pushed up the sleeves of his sweater as far as he could before deciding to remove it altogether for the sake of protecting the wool against stray water. The cuffs of his work shirt were unbuttoned and rolled up to his elbows as he got to work.

Taking a healthy quarter-sized amount of shampoo into his palm, he lathered it between his hands before running soapy fingers through your scalp. The pads of his fingertips softly dug in as he carefully massaged the shampoo in.

When he started working his fingers in patterns, putting pressure near your temples and increasing it as he dragged them up the curve of your scalp, you let your eyes close. He was getting rid of a headache you didn’t even realize you had. 

The tension you’d been carrying in your shoulders eased a little, and it made him think about how much you probably needed this. One of his hands came down to massage the muscle between your neck and your good shoulder, knowing it was best to just let the hot water do its magic on the bad one. 

When the shampoo had been sufficiently lathered, he stood up and detached the shower head, bringing it down to you so you didn’t have to move. You leaned your head back for him as he carefully rinsed the soap out.

You weren’t going to ask, but thank God Spencer told you to hand him the conditioner next. This, he slathered all over the ends of your hair, making sure all of it was sufficiently covered in conditioner before loosely twisting it into a low, makeshift pony for you. 

“Mm. I was about to ask how you’re so good at haircare,” you chuckled lowly to yourself, in a half-sleepy voice with your forehead resting on your knees. Dangerously close to falling asleep. “Then I remembered what you used to look like.”

You had a lazy smile on your face just thinking about the days where Spencer’s hair used to be down to his shoulders. He looked so pretty like that (not that he didn’t look pretty now, too), you always wondered why he got rid of it. 

“Remember when I got shot in the knee?” he hummed, returning to work your shoulder. He adorned a tiny smile of his own as he started to reminisce. “You came by my house at least once a week. Brought me meals, watched movies with me. Helped distract me from the pain. Even drove me to my physical therapy appointments.” 

You mm-hmm’d that you remembered.

“You pretty much did everything shy of helping me bathe. Though, I feel like you would’ve helped with that, too, if I asked.”

You both laughed at that. You hadn’t really noticed the parallels of your situation, being injured and needing his help for once. He was happy to repay the favor. 

“I’ll, uh. Let you wash your body yourself,” he said, coming out of his daydream for a moment. He rinsed his hands off and got up, patting down his wet hands on his trousers. With one nod from you to confirm that you’d be able to do it, he quickly exited the bathroom to give you privacy. 

You emerged seventeen minutes later, clad in pajamas with towel-dried hair. Spencer was still awake as you crawled onto the bed beside him, more than ready for bed after that. He looked to the side to ask you how the rest of your shower was, and before he could get it out, you shuffled up next to him, winding one arm around his and resting your head on his chest.

“I take it you had a good shower?” he laughed. This was one of his “I told you so” moments, and for once, you didn’t mind it. 

“Mhm,” you smiled, chuckling behind it as you shut your eyes. You were falling asleep fast. “Spence, the scalp massage…” 

“Was good, right?” he boasted, inflating his own ego a bit. 

You nodded against his shoulder, not caring if you helped blow up his ego another two sizes. Burrowing deeper into the covers, nestling tighter against Spencer, you got one more quip in before falling asleep. “S’good that I think I have a crush on you now.” 

Joke or not, he pulled the blanket higher until it reached your chin, holding you with both arms and kissing the top of your head before falling asleep himself.

*

*

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[hops-hunny]

College Girls

Pairing: Rodrick Heffley x Reader

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 2.2k

Request: anon “How about Rodrick invites the reader to a party (he’s been crushing on her for the longest) but she plays hard to get and at the party her friends try to convince her to give him a chance and later it leads to them playing 7 minutes in heaven and they confess to each other and it goes from there ;) it could end in smut or fluff your way ly <3”

Summary: (college!au) College girls and their games, good thing Rodrick loves to play.

Warnings: Mentions of weed and alcohol, making out, teasing

A/N: Ok I forgot to make them confess but it’s implied sorry anon. I still hope you enjoy it!

If there was one thing Rodrick knew, college was a shit ton different than high school was. However, that wasn’t a bad thing. Unlimited booze and bud, hot chicks, and parties that never ended? He was practically in heaven! He had grown into himself, feeling more confident than ever since Heather had rejected him his senior year. In fact, he couldn’t recall the last time he thought about her but if he had to pinpoint it, it was a few months ago when she had hit him up, begging the boy to give her a chance. Oh the irony behind that. That was another good thing about college. In high school, all the girls thought he was just some loser who wasted too much time on a band that would always be shit. 

But with years of experience under their belt and more free time to practice, Löaded Diaper was beginning to become a big deal in their rinky dink shithole off a small town. God was he glad too because with clout, also came hot girls in skirts that barely covered their ass. The opportunity for endless amounts of hookups was an absolute dream come true, but all dreams lose their shine eventually. When fucking became a mere thing to pass the time between class, gigs, and parties, he realized that it wasn’t as great as he thought it was. He was starting to crave something more, something like or, someone like- her.

God she was a babe. Rodrick still remembered the first time he saw her. Löaded Diaper was doing another house gig, everyone in the crowd dancing and moving to the intense music. And all of a sudden, a strobe light glossed over her perfectly, almost like a halo of blue light and his eyes were hooked. She was there with her friends, one of them whispering something in her ear which caused her to lock eyes with his. Pretty (e/c) eyes meeting his own brown ones. It was almost perfect, almost. As soon as they had finished the last note of their song, without missing a beat she swiftly made her exit and he made his way after her. Rodrick jumped off the stage, chasing after her and her friends all the way till they reached the curb. He grabbed her arm causing the girl to look back.

“Hey, uh, did you enjoy the gig?” He asked, running his fingers through his sweaty hair nervously. He felt his nerves rise even more at the sound of her friends’ giggles.

“I wouldn’t have stayed the whole gig if I didn’t, would I?” she retorted, rolling her eyes as she began to open the passenger door of the black mercedes.

“Yeah, I guess that was a dumb question..” he trailed off as she closed her door. His eyes widened at the fact he hadn’t gotten her name prompting him to take off after the car. He felt relieved as the girl rolled down her window, looking up at him through her thin framed sunglasses. “Wait! I didn’t get your name, I’m Rodrick.” he smirked, watching as she pulled her sunglasses up to rest on the top of her head.

“Didn’t give it.” she quipped, sending him a wink as her friend took off into the distance. Who was she? All he knew about her was that she had a mouth on her and lived on the other side of campus. A lot of girl’s fit that description so it wasn’t easy asking around about her. However, as he stood here in the corner of the party his fraternity was throwing, he’d recognize a pair of nice legs like that from anywhere. His eyes took in her appearance. She had on a denim mini skirt, black turtleneck and a pair of knee high boots that matched. The boy had to practically stop himself from gawking at how good she looked, curves clinging to every bit of the form fitting outfit. He cleared his throat as his friend nudged him, looking to see what he wanted.

“Uh don’t look now, but I think that girl you were eye fucking is definitely eye fucking you back dude. Is that the chick from the gig a few weeks ago that you won’t shut up about?" Rodrick glared at the man, shoving him into the wall before walking towards her. He watched as her friends “coincidentally” all began to head off in other directions, leaving her to offer him a flirty little smile behind the drink she’d been nursing.

“Well if it isn’t the little drummer boy! To what do I owe the pleasure, Rodrick?” she purred, sitting down her now empty cup. She stepped forward, leaving them to be pressed chest to chest. It could easily be blamed on the crowded room but the two knew otherwise. He smirked back at her, wrapping his arms around her waist securely.

“I’m a simple man. I see a pretty girl sending looks my way, I come.” his eyes widened as he began to overthink his word choice. “N-not like that! Like I come over not like cum in my pants. I-I’m not like some virgin...well I’m not some man whore either! I don’t fuck around a lot. Not like the option isn’t there bu-” he quit his nervous ramblings at the sound of her laughter. He relaxed, smiling as the girl wrapped his arms around her neck. He began to lean in thinking she would ask him for a kiss but instead she missed his lips, putting hers next to his ear before whispering,

“Wanna dance?” Before he could answer, the girl (who’s name he still didn’t catch) was dragging him to the dance floor, moving his hands to rest on her hips. He tried to keep his movements as fluid as possible. It took him a bit but eventually his movements matched hers, as they swayed to the beat of the song. She pressed her head against his shoulder, looking up at him as she continued the movements against his pelvic area. “I love this song, it’s one of my favorites.” she whispered. He didn’t know if it was because he was cross faded or his enjoyment of the movements but D’Evils by SiR was beginning to become one of his favorite songs too. How could it not when there was such a pretty girl pressed against his front?

“Yeah? It suits you.” he muttered, leaning his head down to hover his own chapped lips above the girl’s soft gloss covered ones. She hummed in agreement, both of them slowly inching towards each other before she stopped, letting out a cheeky giggle.

“Did you really think I was going to kiss you that easily? You’ve gotta earn it.” She said, dragging a manicured hand against the skin of his neck. He shivered a bit as goosebumps formed, watching as she disappeared back into the crowd. He swore some, groaning as he fiddled with the growing bulge in his jeans. Was he out of the game for too long or had girls always been this hard to get? Either way, he didn’t care. Rodrick was gonna get this girl and her name by the end of the night if it was the last thing he ever did. He broke out of his thoughts, keeping sight of her figure making its way through the beaded curtain which led to the basement of the large frat house. Quickly he chased after her, trying to keep up with her. And, as if on purpose, every time he’d get close she’d flash him that breathtaking smile and continue on her path. Finally, she reached her supposed destination, a small group of people on couches, discussing the plans to play something. 

“So, what’s the game?” He asked, causing everyone to look up at him as he sat on the couch farthest from her. He looked at the bottle in the center of the table, proud of himself and his seating choice. The further he was away, the more likely the bottle was to land on the pretty thing across from him.

“7 minutes in heaven. You down?” A brunette girl asked, a flirty look in her buzzed eyes. He ignored her small attempt at an advance, nodding as he locked eyes with the girl of the hour. He shot her a wink, smirking as she rolled her eyes, biting her lip to hide the smile that was making its way onto her face. For someone so adamant about playing this game of cat and mouse, she seemed to be fighting off her feelings very harshly. None of that mattered now though. If there was a god, he hoped he’d be on his side. Never had he wanted to be stuffed inside a muggy dark closet with someone so badly.

“Of course I’m down. Do I look like a pussy to you?” he asked, watching as the (h/c) haired girl opened her mouth. He gave her a pointed look, tilting his head at her. “Don’t answer that, legs.” The girl looked surprised at the nickname but didn’t say anything, trailing her acrylic nails up the curve of her thigh. His brown eyes followed curiously, jumping slightly as she closed her legs quickly giving him a mocking pout. Tonight was going to be a long night.

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

Round after round was filled with surprises, none involving Rodrick or the mystery girl of his affections. Sometimes, the two people involved would cheer or jump up excitedly, ceasing the moment that they were desperately waiting for. Other times they would groan in disgust and hell, he couldn’t blame him with the hygiene of some of these people. Have they ever even heard of a shower, deodorant? Only their BO could tell. However, his odds grew more and more as it was finally his turn to spin the bottle. He picked it up, kissing the empty beer bottle as he made up some prayer. He let out a deep breath before spinning the bottle. As he watched it spin, the only thought he could seem to form was, ‘Please, please please. Cmon, cmon, cmon!’

Finally the bottle began to halt, making a rumbling noise as it stopped. His eyes followed the nose of it, letting out an internal cheer as his eyes met the (e/c) eyes from across from him. He pulled up his jeans before walking over to the girl, holding a hand out to her. She eyed it before smirking up at him, allowing her to pull him up. Rodrick looked down at her hand before tangling his fingers with her own, pulling her towards the closet. Once they both were in there, silence overcame them leaving the muffled music from upstairs to be the filler between silent space. He cleared his throat some, catching the shorter girl’s attention.

“Sooo, um. Would this count as earning it?” He quipped, giving her a flirty grin. The girl rolled her eyes before moving closer to him, pulling him down to her own height as she wrapped her arms around his neck. Rodrick wasted no time, pulling the girl by her hips and planting his on hers. The kiss was everything he’d hope it’d be. Passionate, hot, and filled with every bit of desire that had built up over the course of the party. He nibbled at her lip, causing a moan to slip from her lips. He smirked a bit, pulling away some to look into her eyes a bit.

“I’ll admit, I wasn’t expecting you to be a good kisser. You looked like you would give me a lot of teeth and too much tongue.” she giggled some, tugging his bottom lip between her teeth before releasing it. He rolled his eyes, smirking as he leaned in, nibbling on her neck a bit. He felt victory overcome him at the soft whimper that came from her lips.

“My pride’s a bit wounded, princess.” he purred, lifting her up as he pinned her against the wall. He leaned back in for another kiss, this one more deep and intense than the last. He groaned softly as she tangled her fingers in his hair, gripping at it slightly. He slid his tongue over her bottom lip, quickly tangling it with hers when she opened her mouth. They’re tongues danced a bit, fighting for dominance before he won. He absorbed her moans, sucking on her tongue as he slid a hand under her skirt, stroking the skin of her upper thighs. Rodrick noted how soft her skin was before gripping at it harshly, stroking her hips with his thumbs.

Just as he slid his hands under her shirt, a knock broke them out of their kiss. He groaned in annoyance, pulling away and fixing her clothes for her as the door was ripped open. The (e/c) eyed girl was the first to walk out, looking back at him as if she had something to say.

“(Y/n).” she said, causing him to look at her in confusion. “My name? It’s (Y/n). I hope this isn’t a habit of yours, making out with girls whose names you don’t even know.” she said, looking up at him expectantly. His mouth opened and closed as he stuttered, searching for the words to say. He cleared his throat before grabbing her hand, beginning the path to his own room.

“Not anymore it isn’t.”

[sissyjamieray]

My journey into feminization how did it begin? It is difficult to pin point a specific age, but I would guess I was about 11 years old. Yes, confused by sexual urges and excitement when looking at pictures of pretty girls in magazine ads wearing only panties and bras. Mmm, then 'borrowing' intimate female garments and wearing them. Feelng the overwhelming rush of pleasure and my first orgasm while wearing female clothing. Through the years I've tried to suppress this urges to dress as a woman. Being married was so frustrating as my wife left her intimate garments all over the house. It was like being in a candy store: bras, panties, lingerie all within reach. Unable to resist I would carefully try on bra or nightie when she was out shopping. At one point she mentioned something about one nightie being worn out in the "wrong" places. But she never questioned me. After all why would her man be turned on by wearing panties? Looking back she was very smart, she knew better than to confront me head on, lol. She knew I would not admit it or make up some bullshit story. She was very subtle, one night after making love she asked me if I had any sexual fantasies, my response was no love, none that I can think of. Another time she make the following comment, " I wish I had something to poke you with". Wow, she was so close. I was a bit stunted, didn't have a good response, lol. Several months later during our forplay love making she starts licking my nipples, omg, wtf!! Do you like it she says, with her hand on my growing manhood there was no escape, no denial. You like it don't you? I said yes, grasping for air and moaning as she began to rub the tip of my cock with her finger while continuing to lick and suck on my nipples. Then she slid her hand below my balls and started stroking and messaging the area just above my ass hole. After five minutes or this action she get up, pulls off her soaked panties then leans towards me with panties in hand and whispers in my ear, ' guess what I found in your bag Jim?' I found at least 10 pairs of my panties Jim, wtf all stained with your cum! "So you like to jerk off and cum in my panties, really?" What could I say but yes. I tried to explain why but she was upset? She then took her wet panties wrapped them around my almost limp manhood and said show me how you like you jerk off im my panties! I was so embarrassed, but I was wrong to have taken her things, this was my punishment, Yes? I reached down and started stroking my cock but it was very limp by now, I could not get hard. She saw my problem and whispers in my ear, "what's the problem, sissy panty boy, can't jerk off in front of your hot sexy wife? never touch my things again!, if you do, you will never fuck or cum inside me again. Do you understand me? Yes, hon I understand, good. Now where are my panties, Uh where you put them dear, yes they are yours now. Uh, keep them clean and if you wear these out (giggle) we will go out together and buy you more. Yes, I'll let the pretty sales lady know my size and yours (giggle). One more thing, when we make love, make sure you are wearing a clean pair of lacy pink panties. You are my panty boy husband now (giggle). I guess you better learn to get excited and hard while wearing female panties or you will never fuck me again (giggle): panty boy. Next day I after work I set out the task of hand washing 'my' panties in hope of getting lucky later that evening. Ok, hot water and some laundry soap and a 15 minutes soak, rinse and then toss into the dryer should to the trick right? Right before we went to bed I quickly grabbed my panties and climbed into bed. My wife had been observing my laundry duties activities that evening and I assumed we were cool. My hopes of an evening of

having sex where dashed when she turned the lights on stating: it's panty check time, stand up and let examine your feeble attempts to clean these! Ok, I can still see your nasty stains, what temperature did you wash these in? Hot I relied, she laughed, you idiot you should have used cold, as now you've 'set' the stain and ruined a pretty pair of panties. Oh well I guess we will have to go panty shopping tomorrow. Maybe Victoria's Secret? I understand Nancy, your friend Mike's wife just started working there (giggle), maybe she can let us use her discount? She then put her hand on my softening member and said, 'well give it some thought, panty boy, good night. WTF, now she is straight up trying to sexually blackmail me and expose me really? I got out of bed headed for the bathroom sobbing, how could my sweet wife be so cruel. Fifteen minutes or so she knocks on the door, " Jimmy are you ok"? No I'm, how could I be ok when you want to humiliate me and expose my fetish to my friends? Oh you admit it now that you are little perverted panty stealing panty boy? Her words cut me through me like a knife, but she was right. Stand Jim, look at yourself in the mirror wearing my soiled panties, tell me baby who and what did I fall in love with? Then she placed her had on my limp cock and said, I love you but tell me about all your fetishes now or we are done: confess! I'm not going to play a guessing game with you understand! Sobbing, I began to spill my guys about how was molested by an older boy at 11, my Aunt confessed to dressing me as a girl when I was very young,

dressing my mothers lingerie. Yes, I've have fantasies about being fucked my a man while being dressed as a woman. With years in my eyes I looked at my wife, what she was crying too? Why are you crying I asked? I'm so sorry that so many people have hurt you babe and that you are so fucked up now. Maybe we can both get into therapy, you know get some professional help? But for this moment, let's promise to be more open and honest with our sexual feelings and desires ok? Babe I'm sorry I got do angry with you but you did sneak my panties? I had no idea that my panties turned you on so much to the point that you would willing wear them? She started rubbing my pantied cock as she spoke, you know Jim, have a little fantasy of my own. What she whispered in my ear next blew me away. Jim, sometimes I think about being with a woman, coddling and fondling each others breasts? Jim, I, I think I might be Bi? I sorry I've never shared this with you but you understand right ? At that moment, my cock began to swell, she got her answer. Now pulling my panties down she began licking the very backside tip of my cock, you know Jim, maybe I will be willing to support you, like helping you dress like a lady, apply make up and maybe if you wish be with a man as a woman. With these words I erupted a stream of thick sperm all over her beautiful face. Wow, that was fast hon, you agree with my suggestions? Awesome, now for your first lesson Jamie, lick up all the cum you sprayed over my face. Yes, play the part bitch you need to learn to love the taste of your cum. Yes, your female name is Jamie now, do you like it? That's right clean me up, good gurl. Now it's my turn to be pleasured, now be a good lesbian bitch and eat my sweet pussy, XOXO.

Chapter 2 The List

The next morning Carol, my wife was up early and out of the house without waking me. No breakfast or coffee, man that woman be slipp'in, I thought. Well, what looks good in the frig? Oh man, lookie here, a heart shaped note from wifey. [Hi Jim I went shopping with Margie this morning, not sure when I'll be back but, please pickup the following items at the corner drug store:

tampons, pantyhose, nail polish (pink), eye shadow base & palate, concealer, face primer, eyeliner (water proof), mascara, blush, bronzer, highlighter, lip gloss, cosmetic brush set, foundation, setting spray and pamprin. Jim, if you need help just ask the salesgirl in

cosmetics, you know the one you always flirt with, you know Desiree, giggle. Oh and make sure you are wearing the pink lace panties that I let in your drawer. They are yours now, Jamie. Love Carol XOXO, P.S., I've invited some friends over for dinner so please be home by 4 pm.] Groan, I HATE shopping, especially for girl stuff! Ok, so off to drug store I went, stright to the cosmetics counter, list in hand. There she was, Desiree behind the counter, may I help you, she asked? Desiree was the gorgeous offspring of Spanish and Irish parents, about 5' 9" light green eyes and light brown to blonde hair. Her makeup was always impeccable, skirts and blouse always tight and ample cleavage on display. Carol was right that I did flirt with Desiree in the past, but Carol was always with me. It was different now, I was alone and what she possibly thinking? I mean, Carol had always shopped for her own cosmetics and fem items? Looking into her eyes my mind went blank, dry mouth, etc. I handed her the list and mumbled, my wife needs this stuff and I have no idea. Sure, no problem, I can get these for. Carol is your wife right? Yeah, she was in earlier, something about a need for a change and wanted you and I to help her with a make-over surprise. I can help you with every thing on the list except the tampons, their in aisle 12. Oh, and I'll need your help with selecting the foundation shade to ensure a good color match. Ok, what ever I said, I'll be back with the wifey's tampons in a couple minutes. As I walked away, Desiree's last words, "color matching" stuck in my head... Carol's skin tone was much lighter than mine? Mmm, aisle 12, ok here we go, no idea really what to buy my wife, so many confusing choices. I must have been searching for the correct tampons for at least 15 minutes when Desiree found me. Hi, need some help? Absolutely? I have no idea what she needs. Laughing at my ignorance of feminine hygiene products, explained that Carol would at minimum need pads and most likely will need a tampon for her 'heavy' period flows. My suggestion is get her both. Is so sweet and thoughtful of you to do pick these up for you wife, I'm sure she appreciates it. Now let's go go back to the cosmetic department and I ring up your items? Sounds like a plan, I said. Ok, let's try this new foundation shade shall we? Desiree reached for my hand, this was a new level: physical contact. I could feel my heart beating faster, well if well if you have to I said? Desiree, her hand still gently touchind my hand, looked me in the eyes and said, Jim, it is necessary to be sure we get an accurate match and you do want to please your Wife don't you? Yes, of course I want to make Carol happy. Well good, smiling as she applied the foundation to my hand Desiree said, you know Jim, it's not like anyone's going to make assumptions about your sexuality. I mean, why would a handsome stud like you want to wear make up? Ok, of course your are right, I told her. Oh, awesome Jim, this color is perfect. Carol will love it.

Great what is the final damage for all this, I asked? Sure, your total comes to $75.65. Ok, wow this stuff sure adds up fast! Ok here's $76, as Desiree handed back my change she dropped a dime. Oh, so sorry, no problem I said bending over to retrieve .10 cents and at that moment exposing my pink lace thong panties in full view of Desiree. So humiliating, I was speechless. Desiree with a big smile handed me my merchandise but me close and whispered, I love a man who likes to embrace his feminine side, Carol is so lucky.

Chapter 3 - No Refunds, No Returns

So I returned home with all the cosmetics Carol had on your list. She met me as I entered our apartment with big hug, then said that she had to leave again. No big deal, but asked me to read a letter she had written to me. Ok, problem, writing letters was something we did when we first started dating. Jim, l'll be back in about 2 hours, so please read my little ' love' note before I return. One more hug as she felt up my ass for the outline of the thong panties, still wearing them I see? Good, I so happy you did, it says you respect my wishes. I am going to make you so happy you did. Then she kissed me deeply and left without saying where she was going? Oh well, now where is this letter? I found Carol's letter on my pillow, she started, my Dearest husband, tonight I will make your fantasy of being a woman a reality. Don't deny it Jim. I found your hidden stash of female undergarments, shemale porn, etc. Really, why did you NOT trust me enough with your kinky desires? No matter, I know now and I still you move than you realize. Tonight I will give your fantasy, but know this our relationship will change. The changes will be (giggle) sort of a role reversal? To start: take a nice hot bubble bath, yes use mine girly stuff XOXO. Next, use my sugar rub all over your body to exfoliate your skin and then shave all your body hair, yes lov, your arms, legs, chest, balls and ass. Next raise in with cold water

and gently dry ourself. Next, hydrate your skin with some lotion be liberal with it. Now Jim, you don't have much time left so get started. Oh, once your done with this bathing routine, look in your drawer and closet. Yes I picked out some cute girly things for you to wear love XOXO. Make sure you are wearing each item when I return? If NOT, trust me You will sorely regret it!! But I know you will be a Good girl for your wife, your Mistress now won't you? And don't act like you don't know how to put on a bra, panty hose, corset, or breast forms. Please Sissy, remember I know what you've doing when your alone and I'm at work. You see I also found your pictures lol. Well, no more secrets BITCH! I demand you to be ready for me to apply your make up and wig when I return. No excuses! Yes dear, I will be fully shaved and dressed when return. Ok, good, I will be at 7 pm sharp! Out of fear and excitement I started drawing my bubble bath. While the tub was filling I looked into the closet and drawer to see what my wife had purchased. My sweet wife had filled my drawer will so many pretty panties and bras all different styles and colours. These were all mine, really? Wow, what was in my closet? Just a quick peek, so many cute skirts, dresses and tops, all mine? Ok, time was slipping away and the tub was nearly full now. As instructed, I soaked in the fraguent bubble bath for a half hour so relaxing then scrubbed every inch of my body possible with a sugar exfoliate scrub. I then covered my body with a girly shaved cream and shaved my legs, arms, chest, groin, balls and ass. I then showed in cold water to rinse off the remaining shave cream. As I dried my body off the scent purfume and softness of my now hairless body caused me to feel so girly/ feminine, excited and horny. I resisted my base urges to pleasure myself and pushed on to getting dressed as it was almost time for my wife to return. So many panties so many choices, will of I selected a cute pink lace thong panties with matching bra and garter belt. Slipping the panties on another temptation to pleasure myself. Not enough time, 6:30 pm, still had to put on the breast plate and corset. I secured the 38 D breasts to my chest using the medical grade adhesive. Looking the mirror was a bit of a let down, so much work and I still looked like a man, a man with big breasts and small waist. I was nearly in tears when I heard the front door open, Carol would be coming in bedroom any moment and I was pretty much half naked. I quickly grabbed a blouse, skirt and heels got them on and posing on the bed, just as door opened. Knock, knock... omg Jim, Carol told me to just let myself in, that my make over project would be sitting on the bed. It was Desire, Carol WTF!! I was humiliated once again, I began sobbing uncontrollably, why Carol, why? Desiree gave me several tissues to dry tears. I don't understand, why would do this? She came closer and hugged me. I never been this close to Desiree or so absolutely vulnerable before. She knew just like Carol that I was to be a sissy no denial. Jim, she said, Carol is giving you a gift, this is what you want really. Carol loves you didn't understand or how to help you experience being a girl. I can sweet heart. Yes, Carol may have, did violate your privacy by sharing your sissy feelings with me but I agreed to help you both. She then kissed me on the lips and said go wash away those trears hon and let's transform you into a beautiful woman. Before she applied my make up she asked me to remove my skirt and blouse, something about not getting any make on my clothes, ok made sence? Desiree was wonderful explaining the fairly complicated process of applying the various types make up, contouring, eye shadow, liner, etc. I almost forgot that I was half naked inches away from a gorgeous woman. The scent of her purfume and beautiful cleavage got the best of my unrestrained manhood. Desiree noticed my problem and said, I see you are getting turned on baby? You like it that I'm feminizing don't sweety? Oh of course you do

[folklord]

If you ever stopped loving me, would you tell me?

ok, listen, I don't know what happened here. I watched 'scenes from a marriage' and got emotional. so that's it. sorry.

warnings: angst, hurt/comfort. post-tripler frontier. | +800 words

You and Frankie have been married a long time. Enough for the situation to start to feel suffocating.

You had been through the worst possible things, always together. Frankie's addiction, an unexpected baby, the terrible trip, a pandemic. And yet, it was in the boredom of a monotonous life that you found reasons for a marriage crisis.

You cared about Frankie way too much. He felt your attention like barbed wire around his shoulders.

You always seemed to want more for your own life, but you never really had time. You wanted him to help out more with domestic stuff. He thinks you should be more understanding.

And on another disastrous day like this, you found him in the bathroom, brushing his teeth. You notice that when you entered, he began to brush faster as if he wanted to leave soon. You pushed the door and stayed there, but the stress was as strong as armored glass.

"Frankie, what's wrong?" You ask gently.

"What's wrong..." He mutters ironically, washing his mouth. He turns off the faucet and takes the washcloth, passing it on his face.

Without facing you, Frankie sighs loudly. And he says as if taking weight off his shoulders:

"I'm tired of your face, that's what's wrong!" He screams.

Your heart breaks. You huddle over the door but don't dare say a word. Frankie's expression quickly changes as he sees your reaction.

"Baby… no, baby I'm so sorry, I didn't mean that!" He says approaching you and wanting to hug you, but you reach out for him to stay away.

"It's okay." You say. His heart-shaped mouth opens in surprise. "You mean that. And that's okay."

"Oh fuck…" He whispers. Placing his hands on his hips, he leans against the sink and faces his feet. "I'm so sorry… Sometimes, is just… too much."

"I know." You say gently, even though your heart is in pieces.

"You've been so good to me…" He says, his brow furrowing in agony. "I'm an ungrateful son of a bitch and... I'm so sorry…" He says, pressing his hands against his chest.

"Frankie, I know you. You're freaking out, but it's going to be okay." You say, coming closer. "I've been telling you, you need to be yourself again, to see the boys, drink beer, do man stuff…" His brown eyes are getting watery. You know he's biting his cheeks as his jaw clenches. "You're more than a husband and a father, Frankie. You need to fill yourself with other things that bring you joy!"

He smiles with your gentleness. "Thank you, honey."

"It's okay." You say it again.

After a while, you do your own hygiene and Frankie starts to shave. When he reaches his neck, where he can't see, he shows you the razor and some puppy eyes. "Please… If you're not angry enough to put a blade on my throat…"

You take the razor, laughing at him. You start to shave in some very delicate movements. When it's done, you throw the razor on the sink and tap his shoulder.

Frankie bends down and wipes the foam off his face.

You find a Frankie without a beard. Even years later, it was still weird, but you liked it. You could see his smile more clearly.

You approach him and put your hands on his freshly shaved, smooth cheeks. He smiles between your palms and holds your wrists.

"Francisco…." You say kindly. He knows that when you say Francisco, something is coming.

"Yes?" He raises his eyebrows, worried. You lower your hands to his chest.

"If you ever stopped loving me, would you tell me?"

"I don't think I can." He says immediately.

"You wouldn't tell me?"

"No, you dumb." He smiles. "I don't think I can't stop loving you."

You keep looking at his eyes, happy... but so confused.

"I remember what I said. But even if one day, for some bad reason, we aren't together anymore… I will still love you. There's no way you can change that."

"Okay." You smile and kiss his lips softly. "I love you, Frankie. All your parts. The angry, the soft." You kiss his nose. "The mustache, the babyface"

He laughs, pulling you closer.

"I know that. But don't worry. The love that I have for you is the most beautiful part of me."

You look into his eyes, shining through the bathroom light. And the peace that you always find, even if the world is fucked up, is still here somehow. The man you fell in love with, the soul that is just so good to you - even when the heart-stopping waves of hurt come. He is still here, even after all this time.

"Dad, I can't believe it!" Your daughter screams at the bathroom door, with hands on her hips just like Frankie's.

"But you said the beard itches!" He answers her, pointing to his face.

"Yes, it does! But I'm hungry and you said you would make waffles!" She pouts.

"Elena, wait for your dad in the living room okay?" You say. She pouts again and walks away.

Frankie is staring at you, smiling. You see his dimple coming out and the beautiful eye wrinkles.

He can finally breathe.

---

taglist (let me know if you want to be added): @la-lunaluna @raresciences @lokimischixf @hansolotr @lukanasky @voteforpedro09

[thatweeboverthereisthirsty]

Leona x Reader: Insecurities

This was an angst/comfort story I’ve been meaning to write up for a while now. I finally finished it and am a little iffy about how the ending turned out, but I needed to get it done so I could move on to some other requests. There’s also a hint in there about a future personal headcanon prompt that I will write up when I get the chance. 

Rated M because of a reference to bad language and the black market for women (it’s very brief and for the most part subtle but I’m just warning you)

Warnings: angst, language, violence, kidnapping, fem!reader, mention of sexual slavery

If you would like to know what Kahaba means you can research it online. It is swahili but it is an inappropriate word and isn’t necessary for the plot line.

   The flowers swayed lightly in the breeze, spreading their natural perfume across the area. You inhaled deeply and sighed. The sun felt lovely on your face and bare shoulders. 

   The shirt you wore had no sleeves, only straps which criss crossed in an elegant pattern on your back. A string of beads fell across your chest and the pants you wore were thin and billowy. You had received the outfit on the morning of your second day at the castle. Despite your boyfriend's lack of royal manners, he was still the second prince of the savannah and so you were treated like royalty as well. 

   Now you stood in the castle gardens all by yourself, per your request, and simply enjoyed the peacefulness of the area around you. It had been a long week filled with feasts and parties that left you utterly exhausted. It was no wonder that Leona wanted to sleep all the time. You couldn’t imagine how anyone who didn’t have the energy of an eight year old could live in such a bustling environment. 

   The amount of maids and guards that seemed to follow you everywhere was simply ridiculous. You were plenty capable of taking care of yourself and it wasn’t like any bad people were after you anyways. You doubted that most outsiders even knew you existed, much less the fact that you were spending the holidays in the castle. After much persuasion you had convinced them to leave you be, for at least thirty minutes in the gardens. Nothing could possibly go wrong in that amount of time. Turns out you were wrong. 

   A whistling sound quickly came to your attention and something whizzed past your ear. “What?” Another whistling sound drew your attention and you turned to check what could possibly be coming at you. A searing pain made itself known in your shoulder. You grabbed it quickly and yelped. Your eyes looked around for the source of your pain and landed on an arrow embedded in the ground. 

   Confusion and fear spread through your body as another arrow latched onto your leg. You shut your eyes in pain and cried out as your leg buckled. No, I have to run. Goddamnit instincts now is not the time to take a break. Adrenaline should have had you up and running by now but instead your body felt sluggish. It didn’t take long to figure out what had happened. As numbness spread through your shoulder and leg you fought valiantly against the sedatives which worked quickly to put you down. 

   The gardens blurred into a painting of abstract colors and you distantly noticed a person approaching you. “Why...sleepy...who…” Your voice slurred your words till they were nearly intangible and you felt the last sparks of fight being extinguished. Patches of black dotted your vision as you sank into the vulnerable sleep that you knew could be your demise.

-------

   Bubbles. Bubbles were forming underneath you and pushing you towards the surface. It was a pleasant feeling but you couldn’t help but notice the worry that gnawed on your heart as the surface approached. You knew that above the water was where you had to go, and yet a part of you didn’t want to leave the comfortable warmth that the water provided. As the surface drew near you began to understand why you didn’t want to escape the water. A dull pain in your shoulder and leg quickly turned into a harsh sting. Your head throbbed and bright light stabbed at your eyelids in an attempt to damage the fragile pupils hidden behind them.

   Finally and regrettably you were pushed through the top of the water and flung into consciousness. As if you really had needed air you started panting and coughing violently. Your throat was dry and your lungs constricted painfully every time you wheezed in another breath. After a few more minutes of hacking you realized it was probably due to the temperature in the room. Each of your fingers and toes were numb to the point where they would barely respond and unconscious shivers wracked your body. 

   “Ha look who woke up!” A voice echoed through the room and made you wince as your head throbbed in response to the high volume. A man in about his thirties chuckled and made his way over to you. As a first response you struggled, trying to put distance between yourself and the stranger. It didn’t work however since you were tightly tied to a chair. The man chuckled and leaned down so he could look straight into your eyes. 

   “You poor thing. I had originally planned on kidnapping you for ransom but it turns out that the royal family isn’t all that interested in having you back.” Your blood ran cold. No. He’s lying. Leona probably has people out looking for you at this very moment. 

   “I can see you trying to convince yourself that I’m bluffing. It’s truly unfortunate. I really could have used the money. However, you are attractive and young enough that I should be able to fetch a pretty penny for you on the black market.” You squirmed and flinched backwards when his hot, rank breath hit your face. You hoped he planned on using the money for dental hygiene. Not that it mattered. Leona would rescue you. After all he loved you.

   “Leona will come for me. He loves me just as I love him. There’s no chance in hell that you will be allowed to get away with this!” The man stepped back at your outburst and looked surprised for a moment before breaking down into hysterical laughter. 

   “Oh man that is one of the best things I have ever heard,” he trembled, trying to contain himself, “I contacted your so called lover and he told me it wasn’t worth his time. Said he would rather take a nap than deal with this. Your prince has made his decision and I have made mine. You will be a fine slave, as long as we cut off that worthless tongue.”

   You wrestled with the ropes harder in a desperate attempt to escape. Tears slipped down your cheeks and thoughts of hopelessness invaded your mind. Would Leona really do that to me? Of course he would. It’s all been a lie. He doesn’t love me. He’s too lazy to love anyone. That stupid lion! Mentally you shushed yourself. These thoughts were ridiculous. The man was obviously bluffing. This man is a kidnapper you can’t trust anything he says. 

   A ring drew your attention back to the man in front of you. He had gotten much closer and was now standing directly in front of you. The sound of a facetime call being received echoed in the dark room. 

   “What?” An annoyed but familiar voice came through the phone and you smiled realizing who it was. It would all be over soon. Leona would come for you and you would be safe. 

   “Good afternoon your majesty,” a growl reverberated through the device, “I am giving you one last chance, give me what I want and you can have the girl. If not,” the man flipped open a knife and pressed against your cheek. He dragged the tip of the blade down to your lips, leaving a ribbon of crimson behind. “I’ll take her tongue and her body. Don’t you think she would make a fine kahaba, prince of the savannah?” 

   A sigh came and you could almost imagine your boyfriend rolling his eyes. You nodded to yourself to try and reassure yourself that he would come for you no matter what. “For the last time she’s expendable. Do what you wish but don’t call me again. I have a date with my bed.” 

   The beep of the call ending cut through the tension in the air and confirmed the man's claims. Dread and hopelessness bubbled up in your stomach and filled you with horror. He really never loved you. The realization numbed your cheek and the rope burns on your skin. Leona’s words repeated themselves in your head. 

   Distantly you registered your kidnapper reaching for you. There was hardly any response when he roughly grabbed your chin and forced your lips apart. Two dry and bitter tasting fingers yanked your tongue forward and you whimpered in response. The man chuckled and pulled the knife back out, although you could barely see what he was doing through your tears. 

   “Now stay still Kahaba, we wouldn’t want to further damage that pretty face of yours now would we.” The man raised his hand and you squeezed your eyes shut as a stinging sensation hit your tongue.

----------

   Startled, you opened your eyes and instinctively reached up to feel your tongue. The muscle was still intact although you did taste blood in your mouth. Feeling around your mouth, you realized that it wasn’t a knife that had sliced your tongue, it had been your teeth. A sigh of relief left you. 

   Quickly you realized that you weren’t tied to a chair and you weren’t in a damp room. You were in a large and finely decorated room. It was dark but not pitch black since moonlight and starlight filtered through the open windows. A calming breeze blew in past the beaded curtains making your skin prickle in response. 

   It was then that you noticed your shivering. The savannah often had pleasant weather even at night and your soft sheets and blankets had kept you comfortably warm without being overbearing. Although the days had been almost sweltering, the night was a very enjoyable temperature. Nothing to illicit shivering on the level that you were. It became apparent that you were not so much shivering, more trembling. 

   A nightmare. That’s all that it was. You wrapped your arms around yourself and moved out of the bed so you could get to the bathroom. The light stung your eyes but you bared it until they adjusted. Splashing cool water on your face you let your mind wander back to the contents of your dream. Soon tears slipped down your cheeks and into the porcelain sink below. 

   “Kahaba” The word echoed through your mind and you sobbed harder. Shaking you sunk to the floor and stifled a cry in your palm. The cold tile reflected your image and let you see how pathetic you looked. Crying over a dream. No wonder Leona didn’t love you. The cries stopped as you paused. But Leona does love me. It was all just a dream so why am I worrying. Sniffing you repeated the logic in your head as you cleaned up your face and tended to your puffy eyes. If you went to sleep like this then they would surely be red and irritated for the rest of the day. 

   A sigh left your lips once you had calmed down enough to feel tired. Willing yourself not to think about the nightmare you laid down and attempted to find sleep. Yet as hard as you tried, sleep would not come.

----------

   Leona growled when he sensed another presence in his room. He sat up and glared into the darkness. His cat eyes quickly adjusted allowing him to spot his sister in law standing by his bed. His growls ceased and he raised a questioning eyebrow. It was unlike her to enter his room in the first place, nevermind the middle of the night. 

   Scenarios clouded Leona’s head as he remembered that you were staying in the palace as well. Normally if something happened he would only find out about it afterwards or if his help was needed, but if something had happened to you then naturally as your lover he would be informed immediately. 

   “What happened? Is everything alright? Is it y/n? Is she hurt?” Farena’s wife shushed him and held up a hand. 

   “Y/n is unharmed although I do believe she had a nightmare.” Leona relaxed and sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I was walking by on my way to bed when I picked up sounds of crying from her room.” He tensed up again. Crying? You had never mentioned having nightmares before. 

   “Thank you for letting me now.” He said before she left the room. He pushed his covers off despite his body telling him to lay back down. The hallway was dimly lit so it didn’t disturb his eyes while also being easy to travel. When he made it to your room he leaned his ear against the door and listened carefully. He picked up on the sounds of your breathing and noticed that they were fast and inconsistent breaths. Despite the fact that he couldn’t hear you crying he could pick up on your distress scent and your body was obviously coming down from a panicked state. 

   Leona carefully pushed open the door and your breathing stopped. Knowing that you had already noticed his entrance, he sighed and closed the door behind him. The prince made his way over to you and laid down on your bed behind you. The mattress dipped and shifted as your boyfriend's warmth moved closer. He wrapped his arms around your stiff form and pressed against your back, whispering a low “relax” in your ears before you finally let your tense body unravel itself. 

   Minutes of silence passed where the only things heard were your mixed breathing and the occasional rustle of sheets. Then Leona rolled onto his back and pulled you so your head was on top of his chest. You gasped and froze. His heartbeat thrummed in your ear and you could feel the rise and fall of his ribs with every breath. 

   “What was your nightmare about?” You were shocked to find out Leona knew about your nightmare, but you supposed someone could have heard you crying through the walls. For a moment you lay there quietly, trying to determine how you should explain it to him. When you felt that you had gained enough confidence, you started at the beginning of your dream and recited the events that followed. 

   When you got to the part where Leona decided that he didn’t need you, Leona growled and tightened his grip on you. By the time you finished you felt like crying again and you were sure your face was burning with shame. It was hard to admit weakness to anyone, let alone Leona. He probably thought that the dream was for the most part right, and that you were too weak to be an adequate mate for him. 

   The lion man sighed.

   “Well let me start by saying that the dream you had is a load of bull,” he mentally winced at how harsh he sounded. He had never been good at this kind of stuff. “I would never let you get kidnapped. Nevermind leave you there.” his tone softened and he tilted your chin up. “Listen, I’m not good with words and things, but I do understand my feelings for you clearly, and you mean so much more to me than anything has. I would never sleep again if it meant keeping you safe.” Your eyes widened at this. “I love you. Nothing is ever going to change or get in the way of that.” 

   Taking a moment to process what he had said, a thought struck you. 

   “Leona? You don’t think I’m weak do you?” The lion stiffened then relaxed beneath you.

   “Of course not my little herbivore. I believe that you are very strong in ways that other people aren’t. Even me.” You smiled and nuzzled into his chest. Your insecurities had been proven incorrect and you suddenly felt exhausted after all that worrying. Underneath you, Leona began to purr as your breathing evened out. Tomorrow he would console you further, but for now, he was happy to see you rest.

[mrwinterr]

Slippery, Smooth

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader 

Summary: Bucky gets a different kind of massage.

Warnings: Smut 18+ (consensual but still unprotected sex, vaginal penetration, oral [male receiving], thigh riding, titty fuck, cum play).

Disclaimer: I want to put it out there that while nuru massages aren’t legal in the vast majority of the U.S. or the world, I’m not condoning the underlying motive of selling sex and/or prostitution. I apologize if this may offend anyone or the culture. I did my best to read about the origins and some modern experiences. A girl just watched porn and wrote this – that’s it.

** Author’s Note (8/13/20): Read a snippet of Part 2! **

“We’ll just need you both to fill out the paperwork for some information. Please check any of the services we offer then sign the waiver on the back and when you’re both done, we’ll show you to your rooms,” the young female receptionist answered with a friendly smile on her face.

Sam returns the gesture with a smile of his own and grabs the two white clipboards with the paperwork attached to them, carefully balancing the pens placed on top so they don’t roll off. On his left, was Bucky sporting a resting bitch face, clearly showing he was dragged into this before heading to a pair of unoccupied seats. The woman unbothered by his sour demeanor pays no offense believing he’s come to the right place to relieve the stress he isn’t aware he’s been harboring.

Except Bucky really doesn’t want to be here at the spa. He just happened to be caught while walking by some of his colleagues and apparently, Sam had been asking around for someone to check out the raving massage parlor on the market with him, but mostly because it was much more of a discount to book for two than one.

With some convincing from his more levelheaded companions, suggesting Bucky continue to go out and experience more modern things while also participating in the act of self-care, he begrudgingly agreed.

“Man, hurry up. Did you forget how to spell your name?” Sam nudged at him seeing as Bucky hadn’t even filled out the first line before putting the cap back on his pen, signaling he had completed his paperwork.

“Shut up. I don’t even want to be here.” Bucky mumbled enough just for Sam to hear. It wasn’t the establishment’s fault that he felt bothered.

He let out a big sigh, filled out the basic information and skimmed at the options of the services provided. His face scrunched. There were all kinds of massages that he hadn’t heard of and some were even in different languages. Luckily, this place offered a brief description of each type.

“Barnes!” Sam, who was standing in front of the receptionist desk again, said with a now firmer tone and sending Bucky a hard look. He was getting impatient. Bucky shook his head and looked back down at the paper. Try something new. He reminded himself.

Feeling slight pressure and the practical idea of the sooner he got through with this part of the process the sooner he’d be out of this place, Bucky hastily checks off something near the middle, a different type of massage he thought sounded nice. They all sounded nice, but there were so many, he didn’t bother to finish reading through or retain any significant aspects on each of them as they all became a jumbled mess of terms in his brain. Afterall, a massage is designed to make one feel good anyways. How far south could the option he selected go?

A few more minutes went by until another woman from behind the desk emerges and calls for the two men. The receptionist bids them a good time and carries on with the next guest. To both of their relief, Bucky and Sam are placed in separate rooms.

Guess he picked a different massage. Bucky thought to himself and looked around the dim lit room. Its walls adorned with tasteful foreign artwork, different sized candles and infused with a refreshed yet soothing scent that began overtaking his senses. The place was pristine.

The employee who escorted him to this room sets the clipboard on the nearby table and instructs Bucky to prep himself with a shower that was located in the corner. Before he could ask why that was a significant part of the massage, she told him once he was done washing himself, to lie on the massage table with only his towel on and to wait for his actual masseuse, who would arrive shortly, then she left closing the door behind her.

Not wanting to think too much into it, believing perhaps it was part of the experience or this place was just super hygienic, Bucky doesn’t waste time. The masseuse could walk in any moment, so he proceeds to undress, open the clear shower door and step in.

A few months ago, aside from the people he worked with or the ones he fought against, no one would be caught alone with Bucky – especially in a vulnerable state such as being half naked and with his metal arm on display. It took a lot of self-therapy and confidence and just plain not giving a fuck anymore mindset, but now here he was letting a complete stranger touch him and take more than a peek and gander at his body. If the doctors could see him now. On top of that, there had to be a level of professionalism here anyways, he was in good hands.

Once he’s thoroughly clean, he wraps the white, fluffy towel around his waist before hopping onto the massage bed. It was big, almost like it was built for two. That was a strange thought, but nonetheless he chose to also not dwell on that and was grateful it was big enough for his burly body. He scoots around a bit to find the center and lies down, trying to relax.

He turned his head to the side, eyes wandering at the counter full of supplies – massage oils, rocks, towels, soap, a box of condoms, gloves, more towels…wait. A box of condoms? What the hell? Bucky thought now a little puzzled before turning his head back to stare at the ceiling in front of him. He closes his eyes and tries to calm his nerves once more.

Just before Bucky dozed off, as if on cue, he hears the door open and quietly close with an extra click. You finally arrived. He peeks an eye open to see the back of your figure, hair tied loosely and in a short white robe. It clung on your body different, it had to be of silk. He opens both eyes just as you turn around.

You quickly glance at his clipboard before finally fixing your eyes on your next client. His metal arm certainly didn’t go unnoticed, but that wouldn’t be a problem at all. It might sound mean, but it was one less limb to work on. All that shoved aside, he was athletically built and geez, was he a sight. Keep it together. You began telling yourself over and over. You’re a professional.

It wasn’t likely you did these kinds of massages, nor did you partake in paid sexual services just strictly intent on the art of touch and healing, but this type paid handsomely, and the lights didn’t have to be on all the way to let you see that handsome was indeed right in front of you too. You introduced yourself to the man on the massage bed but got no response.

A quiet one. You thought, but quickly shrugged it off and decided to get right to it by pulling at the end of a tassel in the knot tied around your waist to begin disrobing.

Bucky, not anticipating interacting or to be touched intimately by someone so pretty was gravely distracted, it wasn’t until he saw the skin of your cleavage that he snapped out of it.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Bucky exclaims sitting up, “what are you doing?”

With a confused expression, you simply replied, “disrobing?” Then wearily proceeded to part the material to the side, but before you could reveal anything else, you heard another plea to stop.

“Wh-why?” Bucky was having a hard time trying to formulate words with the swell of your breasts peeking from behind your robe now in his view.

You turned and cocked your head a bit, still perplexed by his questions, “because it’s part of the massage.”

“Wha…what? Isn’t the person getting the massage supposed to be the one that’s…naked?” His mind was in a frenzy and that was kind of annoying you.  

“For a simple massage, yes.”

“What are we doing then?” He asked incredulously.

“A nuru massage.”

“Nuru massage?”

“Yes. A nuru massage is when one massages the other person’s body with their own.” You explained as calmly as you could. He was getting increasingly agitated and your job was to help others relax not add onto the stress.

Bucky shook his head frantically and looked away from you to stop his eyes from wandering too long on your body. He could tell you didn’t have anything else underneath. “This has to be a mistake. You must have the wrong room.”

You scoffed, covering yourself up again and snatching the clipboard on the nearby counter. “Aren’t you…James B. Barnes?” You skim over it before asking and turning the clipboard to prove to him that you were in the right room assigned to him.

He craned his neck forward to inspect the piece of paper he held not too long ago, his messy handwriting complete with his illegible signature staring right back at him.

“Well, yeah…”

“Then I have the right room and you checked off for a nuru massage.” You say crossing your arms as he took the clipboard from your hands to read more about what the massage actually entails.

“This-this can’t be legal though.” He said shaking his head and thinking about how it could even be acceptable for this kind of service without eliciting some sort of sexual stimulation from the other party. Bodies gliding against each other? It just couldn’t possibly go smooth or well…work.

“It’s not…” you replied like it’s a known fact but then were quick to respond seeing his eyes widening in overreaction, “in most areas of the world but it’s absolutely legal here!”

“But it’s basically pros-“ he didn’t even finish that last sentence catching himself when he saw your now offended expression.

Does this asshole really think he is going to just sit there and get away with downright calling you a prostitute?

“You don’t know shit about me,” you spat. Handsome or not, deciding he wasn’t as openminded as most people and harshly tied a new knot to the robe you were still wearing signaling you were about to walk out. He wasn’t worth the few extra digits to your paycheck.

“No! Wait!” He pleaded; guilt ridden. As he let out a deep sigh, you stayed put to hear him out, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to say that. You’re right! I don’t know shit about you, but I also don’t know what a nuru massage is. I came here with a friend to help him get a good deal and I clearly wasn’t paying attention to what I signed up for.”

You nodded and decided to be civil since he was owning up to his mistake. “Okay. Apology accepted. I see why you freaked out, but you’re clearly not comfortable with the idea of this,” you responded while your hands helped convey your words, “so I can see what I can do to get you a refund,” and walked over to him to retrieve the clipboard.  

It would’ve taken a significant blow to your pay – losing a client for the day – but you weren’t going to put anyone in a situation they weren’t familiar or comfortable with.

“Well…” He spoke up, placing his right hand on top of yours causing you to look up at him.  

Wow, his eyes. They held the same color that reminded you of the kind water in a pool could reflect. The soothing kind of blue. You felt like you were glued to the spot, almost hypnotized.

“I mean I’m already here. I don’t want to take any business away from you. Again, I’m sorry I overreacted. What’s life without experience, right?”

And that deep voice... Shit, snap out of it! Remember, you’re a professional.

You gave him a small smile for his change of heart and willingness to try something new.

“Right,” you said forcing yourself to look away. Fuck, I hope I wasn’t staring for too long, “but I’m letting you know now, this isn’t a normal massage,” daring to look back at him for reassurance, “if at any moment you’re uncomfortable, we can change things up. Afterall, I’m very good with my hands.” You hoped to regain your composure with that last line. It wasn’t a lie though.

Bucky sends you a smile of his own before letting you go to lie back down properly, waiting for the next move. You cautiously disrobed without any protest from him. You noticed Bucky visibly swallowed the thick lump in his throat now that you were completely nude in front of him.

“Are you okay?” You were going to have to be patient with this one. He wasn’t going to be like any other you treated. It was easy for you to just stand there naked and you weren’t bothered by nudity at all, but that doesn’t mean everyone else is.

With a nod of his head, you reached for the towel to untuck the bunched-up portion at the side of his waist, mindful to not expose him of the slightest to spare him some modesty, while asking him to move just enough to let it rest on his body and cover his lower half like a blanket would.

You decided to let him keep his towel on for the time being and focus on his upper body. Next, you instructed him to turn and lie on his stomach, you’d start with his back first. You lifted the towel in a modest manner like you would for anyone so he could maneuver with ease. Once he settled in a comfortable position, you began the treatment.

“The word nuru stems from the Japanese term for slippery or smooth.” Talking to your clients was a technique most in your line of profession use to help distract or relax them to get the job done – that and it’s just good customer service showing that you care and know just what the fuck you’re doing.

You expertly jumped up onto the small space left on the bed to get into a straddling position on your knees hovering just over the small of his back and covered ass. Judging by the hump, it kind of looked nice to sit on.

“I’m going to start by applying nuru gel all over your body and mine, but we’ll start small, alright.” You carefully poured a generous amount of the warm massage gel in the palm of your hand lathering up your arms, chest, torso, thighs and fortunately you were flexible enough to reach parts of your back, but for parts you couldn’t, would transfer off his body to yours later on.

Scooping up a bit more, you watched as the gel dropped in a fine line and pool onto his back before beginning to spread it all over the expanse of his toned body in soothing motions. You started to gently press with your knuckles on the surface his muscles.

“The gel is actually made out of natural Nori seaweed,” you started explaining the colorless and odorless substance while progressing lower on his back with both hands, digging your thumbs near the lumbar region and compressing some of your weight down. You paid attention to specific areas of the body that draws the most tension. His body became visibly lax and less strained the more you worked your magic; soon enough Bucky was sure he would be putty in your hands.

Still perched up on your knees and not wanting to slip, you took initiative and just plopped down onto his plush yet firm backside. Even if a towel remained as a barrier between you both, you felt his glutes tense up underneath you, most likely having startled him. Trying to find a way to help him relax again, you tried to comfort him with more facts.

“It has other healthful benefits such as providing great moisturization to the skin,” you leaned down on your forearms and started an up and down repetition.

Your hands then travelled to his sides and you hoped he wasn’t ticklish before they met at the back of his neck to perform the simplest of massages ever. However basic as it might’ve seemed, felt like Heaven’s touch on Bucky’s end as he couldn’t help but let out a moan of satisfaction.

You were so good at it, working out all the kinks in his neck using your skilled fingers, he had to let out an approving moan after moan with each touch that hit the spot. The elicited sound racked through his body that you felt it reverberate all the way down to your core. You were crossing over a forbidden line, but that wasn’t letting you up. You had wanted to hear and feel that again.

“You’re really tense aren’t, you?” You comment continuing your handy work into the knots around his lower neck, slowly adding more pressure and testing his limits. His response was an even louder and deeper moan. Unknowingly, it caused you to shift, more like ground, your hips against his lower body. You mentally patted yourself on the back for keeping the towel there to absorb your juices. He didn’t need to try and figure out if it was the nuru gel or the sudden wetness pooling in you that his skin was swimming in.  

Then you lowered your entire body, your chest now pressed against his back. Your head was close to his, you could smell the scent of the soap the facility provided for the massage prep mixed with his own and you swore he smelled more relaxing than any stress-free candle or burning incense ever could.

Due to the close proximity, you spoke even softer right next to his ear, “the combination of the nuru gel and full body contact or the touch of another human help to release toxins from the body and boost the feelgood chemicals in the brain.”

You paired that piece of knowledge with sliding up and down his back, your hands trailing up his arms that were bent but sprawled above his hand, grasping at the front of his hands to briefly interlock them before letting them go to repeat the actions.

Deciding enough time was spent on the upper area, you carefully swung around, gathered a bit more gel and snuck your hands underneath the towel to glide up the hill of his ass. Without protest, you seized the moment and experimentally grabbed a handful of each cheek before releasing the flesh and sail further down to his muscular thighs. Oh, you wish you could see them, but reminded yourself to approach each step with caution with him.  

The towel still restricted you from attending to his calves, so you pulled your hands back out and scooted up to pull the towel up from the other end and treat them with the same amount of attention. After that treatment was done, you had him revert to his original position on his back.

As he settled, you reached over to pour some more gel and help slicken his front half.

“Interesting fact, nuru massages originated in Japan as a disguise to pay for sexual services,” you say as your hands spanned across the planes of his pecs, “but nuru massages are much more than an erotic massage.”

“How so?” Bucky asked genuinely curious because he was having a hard time trying to strain his cock from hardening. Thankfully for him, you were seated on his lower abdomen and barely inches away from his member.

“Think of them as more so sensual than sexual.”

Accepting that outlook, Bucky had to ask, “how did you get into…this?”

You knew he meant performing nuru massages and not your career in general, “I took a trip to Japan during a break from studying,” you replied and now tracing the lines of his abs. That sort of action, so close to his dick, created a ghostly tingle to run down Bucky’s lower region.

Counting each one of his abs to help distract you from the twitch of his cock that he thought you probably didn’t feel hit you, you continued your story, “like you, I also didn’t know what I signed up for either.”

With your breasts out in front of him squished between your upper arms as you continued to rub him and all slick from the gel, your skin seemed ever so inviting for him to touch, but he refrained from doing so. There was really no way to avoid getting aroused with this kind of massage. He was about to give up the fight. He needed to relax, right?

“Um, how-how was…he?” He asked trying to not ask awkwardly. You smiled noting he was having a hard time trying to look at your face and not your boobs. A guy like this at your fingertips? What woman’s ego wouldn’t be boosted? You had control.

Keeping in mind he is new to this, but also that the vitality of full body contact in this massage, you treated his front half to the same tactic you used on his back by laying your body flat on his.

“She was amazing,” you answered, your face now close to his you could feel the warmth of his breath puff out as he tried to regulate his breathing. The close proximity allowing you to feel the beat of his heart. You noticed the bob of his throat to that reveal, two women all oiled up.  

“She taught me a lot of moves actually.” An innocent anecdote produced a whine from Bucky that he felt ashamed of slip out. Okay, maybe you got to bring it back down. “The first time I ever performed a nuru massage, I almost slipped off the massage table!”

What you hoped for was to lighten the mood, you didn’t expect was for him to bust out laughing at you. The sudden outburst took you by surprise that you almost reenacted the shared memory, but Bucky was quick to catch you with his left arm before you fell. His arms encased around you as he turned on his back with you now lying parallel, legs between his now parted ones underneath the towel that still managed to stay on.

“Oh my God,” you said burying your face into the crook of his neck, not giving a damn that the massage gel would get on your face. That first fall from your past was one of the most embarrassing moments of your career and here you were about to relive it or perhaps create one that would top it.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Bucky said tucking you in his arms as his flesh hand ran up and down the curves of your slick back, the metal one resting just above the curve of your ass. “I’m sorry I scared you. I didn’t mean to laugh. It’s just that you’re so poised and professional, having to imagine you being that clumsy took me off guard.”

Your eyes drifted down and noticed the scarred tissue of his skin that divided the metal from him. He probably ached there sometimes. You made a mental note to fit his arm somewhere in your routine.

“I’ve never told anyone that story before,” you admitted looking at him. Your eyes lingering at his pink lips that were parted. He brushed a strand of your hair away and cupped your face. You leaned into his hand and if he didn’t know it, you were the one that was putty in his hands.

Earning yourself another beautiful smile from him you got back into position. “Do you mind?” You ask referring to the towel. Having spent some time with you and seeing a more vulnerable side, he shook his head and let you rip the towel from beneath you and drop it to the floor.

“It’s okay to get hard,” you said trying to address the elephant in the room. You watched him stammer with his words, “it’s perfectly natural. Remember, this massage is designed to tease your senses and bring your body to full ecstasy.” Your now pressed against him again, rubbing your body up and down, hands trailing upwards to let your fingers intertwine with his again.

Feeling your breasts glide up just enough to stop under his chin, he kept tilting his head back as if he was neck deep in water, but if he was being honest, he would rather just drown in them at this point. Bucky tries to remain calm even if you assured him that getting aroused during a massage was a common occurrence.

“Relax, James,” you said releasing one of his hands to cradle his head and set it in a regular position. You just made it a point to not practically motorboat the poor guy.

“It’s Bucky,” he said, “please just call me Bucky. James is too formal.”

“Okay, Bucky,” you confirm by pressing your forehead against his.  

Not taking your eyes off each other, you glided down a few inches so you’re face-to-face with the junction of the skin and metal and began leaving light feather kisses to the sensitive area. Adding a little squeeze to the flesh hand that was still in your grasp, Bucky felt his heart soar a bit. You, so unperturbed by the once traitorous appendage, were so gentle and the level of intimacy you carried, he wondered if you were like this to your other clients. He felt like a damn fool for falling for your every move.

“Are most of your clients men?” Bucky wondered.

“No. I don’t limit my services to just men. Most times, my favorite are the women. Nuru is open for anyone of any gender or sexual orientation.”

You slithered down again until you trapped one of his thighs between your legs. Lord, give me the strength to not cum. You prayed and begun rocking your hips almost sinfully.

Fuck, was this part of her normal routine? Bucky asked himself but wouldn’t deny the combination of her wet pussy and its soft lips gliding along his thighs felt good. Not to mention the way your hands grip at the grooves of his Adonis belt, nails slightly digging into his skin, watching your hips move. He didn’t miss the look on your face, eyebrows knitted in concentration and your plump bottom lip trapped between your teeth.  

“Do you enjoy this too?”

You knew what he was going for. Did you get a rise out of this? You regained control of your body and shrugged, “I mean, touch is therapeutic in some cases, but if you’re wondering, most places or depending on the masseuse have modified nuru massages.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“Not everyone gets a happy ending.” You were a masseuse specialist and not in a line of sex. It was the most misconstrued thing about it. Noticing the look on his face, you concluded that he must’ve not known the term “happy ending.”

“Sex. A happy ending is what usually culminates from a nuru massage,” you cleared the air. It was adorable to see the surprised look on his face. Yet, underneath the sheen line of sweat that had built up on his forehead, Bucky was internally relieved to hear that you didn’t actually partake in any sexual penetration or acts from this type of massage.

Okay, maybe that number on his thigh wasn’t part of your routine. You’d never been that needy. Before you could fly off the edge, you didn’t even peg yourself to be a sadist and actually edge yourself. You wondered if you could fully set ethical standards aside and go through it.

You set that same leg between your breasts and strategically slid from up his thigh before stopping just below the waist to keep his rather endowed member confined.

“You know, it’s a shame the reputation that nuru massages have,” you started, pushing your boobs together with your hands. You felt his cock jolt at the contact, “the first thing that comes to people’s minds in terms of nuru is fucking porn, but nuru has its benefits.”  

“Like what?” Bucky asks breathily as you started practically titty fucking him. Is she serious? Are we in a porno? He thought seeing as there’s no way he was going to not cum any second.

“Yeah. Believe it or not, it’s proven to help couples spice up their love lives and even repair them.”

“H-how?” He tried to keep up with conversation, but it was so hard, he was so hard, as he watched his cock disappear and reappear from between the depths of your breasts. He hoped you hadn’t noticed that his pre-cum had been aiding in the slickness as it mixed in with the nuru gel. You were warm and soft and slick…and he wasn’t even buried deep in your pussy.

“I think you can guess one of the factors, but it’s more than just a physical connection, really,” you explain and release him. You move back up, body once more parallel to his, your hands smearing more of the gel around his chest, “it allows for one to feel more comfortable in their own skin and even create new sensations.”  

“Almost sounds like a spiritual journey,” he said with seriousness his eyes meeting yours.

“It can be,” you responded with. You were so close to his face again. Not sure how long you sat there staring at him, but as ironic as it was, the setting in a massage parlor, one with a purpose to help the other, you both seemed to create a new kind of tension. A tension that was almost too thick you feared it wasn’t something your hands could resolve.

You stared down at his enchanting features, soft, pink lips that were parted, cute nose, the half-lidded eyes but that still shone from the blue that managed to peek out. Your hands trailed up to touch his face. He was so tempting.

Fuck it. All caution thrown out the window, your lips crashed against his. It wasn’t bruising nor soft, but enough to cut the tension that had built up in the room. To your astonishment, he didn’t object to your advances and pressed his lips back to yours and opening up wider to let you slip your tongue in. He caught your tongue in his mouth with his lips and enclosed around the muscle, sucking on it, causing you to gasp and pull away breathlessly.

You push yourself up just enough to get a full look at him with your hands on his chest. A slight nod of his head was all you needed to dive back in. Your lips massaged against his as you both kissed with such fervor, your hands threading into the short locks of his hair slightly pulling at what you could grasp in your fingers. The echoes of his moans and the light tap of his cock that had twitched in response against your lower abdomen was a dead giveaway sign that he liked that.  

However, the continue rocking of your body against his, wasn’t going to help alleviate his raging hard on. It was pressed so hard in between you, it almost felt embedded into your skin. You slithered back down, leaving a trail of kisses from the column of his neck, chest – even managing to teeth at one of his nipples tauntingly – the line between his abs until you were met with the tip of his cock, which was unashamedly leaking.

You jeered around his head, placing lightweight kisses down the side of his cock, purposely avoiding the large vein on the underside, to his balls. Your eyes never leaving Bucky’s, who had his head propped under his flesh arm to watch you. Your hands still slick with the gel, you started to fondle him before taking them, one at a time, in your warm, wet mouth to gently suck on.

You weren’t sure who lost the staring contest this time between you two, but his head lulled back at the sensation and yours closed shut, full of him and savoring the taste of his skin. Pulling away with a pop, you wrapped a hand around his shaft to let his cock stand at full attention.

Bucky finally opened his eyes and picked his head back up to look at you just in time to watch you smear his pre-cum all over your lips and swallow him. You downed as much of his cock as you could before hollowing your cheeks and coming back up with your tongue dragging across the underside of him, bobbing up and down.

Without a warning, you pull away for a brief moment, a string of mixed fluids leave a web trail from him to you, “It’s okay to touch me, Bucky,” you say stroking his cock but also noticing his hands had been gripping onto the edge of the bed and hoping to encourage him to fully give in to his desires.

Bucky didn’t need to be told twice as his hands found purchase in your hair pushing you back down his cock. He let out a loud groan when he felt the tip of your nose bury in the soft hairs of his happy trail. You weren’t expecting that kind of aggression from him, it caused you to involuntarily gag around him. Your throat constricting around his cock only caused him more indisputable pleasure he jut his hips up, lodging himself even further.

When you pulled away again, this time with your own saliva and his cum dribbling down your chin, your eyes were slightly red and tearstained. Your ragged breathing, lips glistening and swollen, hair matted against your face. You looked so fucked, so raw.

He pulled you up to him once more, your legs instinctively setting on either side of him, your dripping cunt hovering just over his cock that lied resting on his stomach. He wiped at your chin before kissing you, his tongue darting all around the wet cavern of your mouth and tasting himself. Something about that was so filthy yet so erotic.

Your legs spread further apart, and you pressed yourself against his cock. The contact causing you both to draw out loud moans. You did your best to drag your sopping folds along his stiff member, but the bed had become so slippery, you were finding it hard to pull yourself back up on your knees. Bucky must’ve picked up on the small struggle as he grabbed handfuls of your ass to help aid you in sliding your pussy up and down his cock.

You could feel just how hard he was and the underside and ridges of the head of his cock scraping against your clit, pulled all sorts of tremors from your body. You were a whimpering mess, clinging onto Bucky’s body trying to find your footing, but your senses were on overdrive.

“I know, it’s your job to make me feel good,” he said continuing to rut up against you, “but go ahead…just let go.” Oh, how he would love to watch you unravel and you weren’t one to deny him. You wildly came undone, from the buildup of riding his thigh and now this, you gushed all over his cock.

Wrecked, you knew this was far from over. Once you reclaimed control of your senses, Bucky at your full attention, you snaked a hand between your bodies and lifted yourself up to position his eager cock at your entrance.

“Tell me, Bucky,” you said trying your best to dominate the situation and started teasing yourself, “…do you want a happy ending,” you asked seductively, licking his lips and your eyes never leaving his.

His heartbeat accelerated with each running pass of the tip of his cock made through your folds. If his ending was right here on this massage bed, he’d take it because you were a fucking tease. The string of curses that flowed out his mouth caused a smirk to form on your lips.

You felt his metal hand grab yours shoving it away, enough of your teasing, he repositioned himself at your hole, gripped your hips and slid right in you with ease. You internally applauded the designers of the building for making each room soundproof because let’s face it, no one wants to hear how good the person next door is feeling – especially not like this, not the sounds you and Bucky were producing.

Each slide up and down his thick length, Bucky found himself almost fully engulfed by your breasts again. He stopped you for a moment so he could finally get his mouth on them, but you weren’t about to catch a break. No. Bucky instead planted his feet on the bed and began thrusting up into you almost too vigorously, but you sucked it up. Letting him use you to work out his frustrations.

Then you sat up, hands sprawled on his chest and started grounding your hips. The way his cock swiveled with each rotation you made, had you reeling as the tip just barely kept hitting that spot.

Bucky straightened out his legs from behind you and managed to sit up, cradling the small of your back and gently laying you down.

“Slow down, baby,” he says trying to contain the relentlessness drive you had on fucking him by keeping your hips at bay, so he pulled out resulting in a displeased noise to come out of you.

He just needed to get into a new position, on his knees, your right leg hoisted up on his shoulder while he pushed down on the other to spread your legs further apart, just for him to easily plunge back into your wet heat and drawing out long and satisfied moans from you both.  

“Fuck, it feels so good. You’re so good, Bucky,” you whined.

“I’m supposed to be saying that to you,” he chuckled almost breathlessly, coming down and placing his lips on yours with a kiss that had your head swimming. He pulled back to take a look down, loving the sight of him snug inside your warm walls. With his flesh hand, he pressed his fingers onto your clit, rubbing harsh circles, you grabbed and clawed at his forearm at the immense pleasure, eyes widening because it was proving to be too much.

The twisting coil that was settling in you suddenly snapped. With a loud rough moan, you were uncontrollably quaking beneath him, you knew Bucky couldn’t be far away from you. His bruising grip on your thighs and the faltering thrusts of his hips from your walls squeezing at him repetitively, he finally let go, emptying himself until he was sure he was completely spent. Fuck, and you loved feeling his cum shoot deep in you.

Watching his abdominal muscles contract with every breath, he pulled out and tried to regain his breathing, but before he could collapse, he used his last remaining ounce of strength to pull you up and back down with him on the other end of the massage bed.  

“Are you okay?” Bucky asks you this time short of breath. You managed to let out a tiresome laugh and pathetically slapped his chest, but knew it was to no avail with what little energy you had left.  

Several moments later, you both had calmed down and were prolonging the inevitable end. Bucky watched as you absentmindedly traced the outline of his metal arm. He longed for someone that was raw in nature, confident and there you were – walking into his life by mistake. He wasn’t sure where you stood aside from a physical standpoint, but he strangely craved for more.

You managed to stand back up on your own feet and drag Bucky back into the shower to clean off. You helped each other wash off the gel and mixed juices, with a few kisses shared here and there riddled along with soft sweet praises.

After helping you wipe down the bed and tidy up the room, Bucky couldn’t help but realize he felt good. Gone was the grumpy man that came against his own will. He definitely felt refreshed and his body felt great. This place really was all that it cracked up to be and he was just lucky enough to be assigned to you.  

“What?” You asked catching him starting just as you slipped your robe back on.  

“I want to see you again,” he says getting up from the bed.

You smiled at that. No one has ever made you feel that good. Your bodies seemed to be in sync with one another. Plus, during that last shower, you deduced that he could be a big softie when he wanted to be.

You wanted to see him again too and you would let him.

~

Once Bucky stepped back into the lobby, his peace of mind was shattered when he heard Sam yell. “Finally!” He watched as his friend threw the magazine he wasn’t really reading aside and stand up with a loose smile on his face. “How do you feel, man?”

“Amazing.” Bucky’s tone was audibly smoother and calm as opposed to earlier.  

“Good! You were in there for a long time. I don’t know what massage you chose, but whatever they did on you...I’m glad it knocked out that attitude of yours,” he says as if he didn’t have one before his massage.  

“Whatever. You’re exaggerating.”

“I even left to get something to eat and you were still in there!”

Shit. Were you both really that long? Was that normal? To Bucky it didn’t seem so. In fact, he wanted more time with you.

They both approach the same receptionist from earlier, who now donned a subtle smug disposition seeing the change in complexion on Bucky.  

“Would you like to leave a tip?” She asked Bucky politely and just before he could say yes, he was interrupted.

“Oh, he’s good! He’s all taken care of,” you quickly interjected, popping out of nowhere and effectively grabbing Bucky’s attention one more time with a sweet smile. You wanted to be the last thing he saw when he walked out that door. Bucky didn’t even hear Sam ask how in the world he got you as his masseuse.

Your co-worker nodded understandingly before turning to Sam to ask if he’d like to book another visit.

“Yeah…when is she next available?” Sam asks the receptionist while looking at you. You hadn’t managed to only grab Bucky’s attention, but also his friend.

How Bucky hadn’t noticed it before everything was beyond him. You had a certain glow that was very alluring. He wondered if it was possible for anyone to look away from you or not smile in your presence.

Something Bucky failed to conceal was the rising discomfort he was feeling hearing the suggestive tone in Sam’s voice when speaking about you mixed with a small bubble of anxiety on if there was a possibility that he’d get to be alone in a room with you.  

Before Sam could get a definite answer, you looked to your co-worker at the front desk, grinned at each other and then back over at the two men.

“I’m sorry, sir, but I’m booked,” sending a wink towards Bucky and disappearing to the back.  

A/N: I work in digital marketing and what with all the searching I did I’m now paranoid that I’ll be targeted for a massage…even though I could use one. I did my best to proofread. Let me know if you liked it! 

[gateway-to-glimmer]

A Guide to Dream Work

Dream States

Sleep states are fun to consciously control  for various reasons. They can be used to view and analyze our memory  and sense of self in an indirect way. The feelings and ideas produced by  sleep feel profound and vivid, and can be used for creative  inspiration.

The characters and places we encounter in our dreams  are reflective of the things we have experienced and imagined. We have  dedicated systems of memory for things like our stereotypes of people  and places, as well as our relationship to our environment and to  ourselves. When we are in a dream state, we see the boundaries between  ideas contained within our memory distort and change, leading to the  experience of a world created entirely from the contents of our  knowledge and memory.

Sleep is essential for functioning. Contrary  to what one would expect, the brain is active even during sleep. When  we sleep, the brain goes through a process of regulating physical and  mental functions. Sleep is essential for memory consolidation. It is  difficult to retain and recall information that hasn’t yet been  consolidated during sleep.

There are several distinct stages of  sleep. Older psychological texts used to break these up into five stages  of sleep. Today, most researchers divide the stages of sleep into four  stages: NREM 1, NREM 2, NREM 3, and REM sleep. REM stands for rapid-eye  movement. During REM sleep, the eyes move back and forth quickly, hence  the name. NREM stands for non-rapid eye movement. In these stages of  sleep, the eyes are still, unlike in REM sleep.

Staying lucid  during the different stages of sleep is an interesting experience that  many enjoy and find thought provoking. Each stage of sleep is   experienced by the dreamer in a different way. Studies have been   conducted on participants who were woken up during the different stages of sleep and asked what their dreams were like. People who were woken up  during light sleep felt as though they had entered an immersive   daydream but hadn’t quite fallen asleep. People woken up during deep   sleep (NREM 3) reported feeling fully immersed in their mind, but that   the dream felt more thought-like and involved mundane subjects,   activities, and places. People who were woken up during REM sleep   reported vivid, surreal, and fantastical dreams.

Different  mystical traditions delineate between three distinct types of dream-work  which map onto lucid dreaming during the three stages of sleep.  Hedgecrossing occurs during NREM 1 and NREM 2 sleep. During this stage  of sleep, if the dreamer is lucid, their thoughts become random, vivid,  immersive, and contain spontaneous events that feel profound. Their  thoughts feel out of their control. Spiritual traditions use this stage  of sleep for the purpose of contacting spirits or interpreting some  aspect of their lives.

Lucid dreaming during deep sleep is  experienced as astral projection. Astral projection stereotypically  involves the perception of leaving the body and walking into the world  just outside of the self. Traditionally, the world becomes more random  and mystical as the person moves further from their body, which maps  onto the idea that the change in sleep states causes a subjectively  perceived change in experience while lucid dreaming.

Lucid  dreaming during REM sleep is what people traditionally think of when  they think of lucid dreaming. REM sleep dreams depart from the normal  laws of reality the most severely of all of the stages of sleep. Because  of this, lucid dreaming can easily be used to generate creative ideas  or to explore themes from one’s life through the vivid feelings produced  by the dream. In addition, it is possible to attain some degree of   psychological healing through dreams because of their connection to our memory, and because dream experiences feel vivid and thus their content  and our reaction to them can significantly impact us even when we are awake.

I will describe how to attain each dream state in the next  section. In a subsequent section, I will explain how spiritual  practitioners approach dream work. I will then explain how to use dream  experiences in a constructive way (such as through dream analysis,  creative inspiration, and overcoming traumas and internal conflicts  through dream role play) as an alternative psychological technique.

Hedgecrossing

Hedgecrossing refers to the state of mind  that occurs when one is lucid during light sleep. This state of mind is  useful for spiritual and psychological work. People who subscribe to a  mystical belief system may use this state of mind to contact spirits or  perform a ritual or detect something about the world. People who see  these states of mind as psychological tools may use this state of mind  to access parts of their memory - similar to using hypnotherapy  techniques.

Procedure

The general procedure for  hedgecrossing is to meditate in a comfortable position until the mind  begins to enter a sleeping state. There are certain tells that the mind  has entered such a state - the thoughts that automatically come to us  become random, nonsensical. As with all dream-based work, it is  important to try many times to attain and work with these states. It is  very easy to fall asleep or to fail to enter into a dream state at all  and this can be discouraging for many people. Hedgecrossing is the  easiest lucid dream state to attain because it takes place in the first  stage of sleep, so it is the first dream state entered. People don’t  feel as though they have left their body but they do feel like their  imagination has taken on a mind of its own and it can surprise them with  moments of insight and inspiration.

We will be creating a  specific mental place inside for each of the three lucid dream states.  Eventually, our brains come to associate this internal mental space with  the state of mind provoked by each type of dream state. Over time, as  the association becomes stronger, this helps us enter into a particular  dream state more easily.

Lay down in a comfortable place that you  ordinarily sleep in. Practicing good sleep hygiene, especially the step  where you only sleep in the room/area you sleep in so that your mind can  associate that area with sleeping, can help. Beginning at a time where  you are naturally tired and normally go to bed helps. This state is  prompted by entering the first stages of sleep, light sleep.

Clear  your mind as though you are meditating. Enter your mind’s eye and focus  solely on the experience of being inside of your imagination. Ignore  external thoughts and sensations as they come up, letting go of them and  turning back inside. You are free to develop your own set of   visualizations. The general framework for developing your own system of visualizations to distract you until you enter light sleep is, more or less, this: enter the first of your visualizations and ground yourself in your 5 senses; leave the area to a second room associated with   hedgecrossing; leave to a third room where you engage in a repetitive   (hypnotic) motion; then leave to a final room where you can walk   endlessly until you enter a hedgecrossing state/light sleep state. I   will give an example below.

Enter your mind’s eye at the foot of a  blue cliff with the opening to a black cave. Feel the blue grass  beneath your feet. Drink from a nearby pool of clear water above pastel  blue sand. Look at the deep blue sky above and listen to the wind blow  through the blue leaves coming off the black trees behind you, smelling  the cool, chilly, evening air. Enter the cave.

Enter a black room  with blue steps leading down. Blue stars line the walls of the cave,   approximating the complexity of the universe. Look at them as you   continue downwards. At the bottom of the stairs is a glowing blue number  one on the walls instead of stars. This mental state, hedgecrossing, is  associated with the star symbol as well as the color blue and the   number 1. Giving specific symbols meaning like this helps make entering this state from this mental location easier in the future. There is a   door with a large blue A glowing on it. Walk through the door, feeling   the texture of the doorknob in your hand.

Enter a room with blue  crystals and a pool of water with a waterfall. Watch the waterfall flow  endlessly into the pool of water, feeling the cool water wash over your  hands. Listen to the sound of the water flowing into the pool. Dive into  the water.

After entering the water, enter a room without water.  This area is a maze. Ankle deep water and blue crystals and stars line  the walls. Walk through the cave, taking random turns, until the area  begins to randomize and things begin to change outside of your control.  You will have entered the state informally called hedgecrossing (lucid  dreaming during light sleep) when the area and things inside of it are  partially outside of your control.

Some people find it helpful to  take a small amount of caffeine; others find this does not help at all.  Stimulants can make it easier to maintain lucidity, but also harder to  fall asleep. I have narcolepsy and I’m prescribed Ritalin and I  accidentally lucid dream on it all of the time because of this.

Uses

Soul retrieval and hypnotherapy  both force the practitioner into a trance that is similar to light   sleep or near light sleep in order to enter into and manipulate the mind  in a deeper way than is normally possible in a waking state. This   allows us to cross mental barriers, such as the barriers that keep   memories repressed, and view normally forbidden materials in our mind.   This also means that, since our emotions are more vivid, the things that  we think and the way we interact in our mind leaves a stronger   impression than is normally possible during a waking state where our   emotions are more repressed. The increased emotional vividness serves as  a flag to our mind that what we are thinking is more important than   normal.

The following techniques can be practiced in other sleep  states, although the form they take may differ between stages of sleep.  Because it is difficult to remember information between a waking and  sleeping state, it is essential to keep a journal nearby in order  to write down important thoughts. Get into a habit of writing about the  contents of every lucid dream, regardless of which stage of sleep it  occurred in, as soon as you wake up. Write down every regular dream, as  well.

Symbols are important elements of our mind. Symbols  serve as associative cues to different places in our memory. When we  hedgecross, we enter into a state of mind where we are closer to our  memory, almost living in it as we do when we are deeply sleeping. We can  use symbols to interact with our mind. When we are hedgecrossing, we  can call up a symbol. Say, the color red. We visualize this color, and  because our thoughts have become more random, they will warp and respond  to the introduction of this cue. We could randomly remember a memory  connected to the color red. Or we could spontaneously imagine a  character or the beginning of a story prompted by thinking about the  color red.

We think about the world in certain ways that are  connected to our different types of memories. We have special  neurological processes dedicated to processing things like narratives,  relationships, time, other people, cultural stereotypes, and places.  These elements become easy to notice when we engage in dream work. We  become immersed in the components of our memory, and the types of  components we can think in become obvious quickly. Elements that  frequently recur in dreams often have some significance, and it is worth  it to interact with these symbols - doing so can reveal old memories  and can allow us to interact with these ideas to inspire or change the  self. This is the process of dream analysis. By interacting with  these symbols, characters, and other ideas, we can see their meaning.  Dream analysis books offer interpretations based on cultural symbolism.  This is helpful to some extent, but personal symbolism is what matters  the most, and it can be quite contextual and idiosyncratic. It is  possible to interact with an idea or symbol in a dream and to talk to  it, touch it, see what is inspired by interacting with it. The ideas  that spring up from interacting with this element can be used to analyze  its meaning.

Interacting with symbols in the mind can be used as a  hypnotherapy tool. If someone has a troubling thought loop or memory,  they can interact with it in a dream state to learn more about it and to  gain mastery over the memory. However, it is possible to trigger  nightmares in doing so. That is the risk of good dream work - there is  some element of difficulty to it, and one must be willing to face and  master difficult thoughts to proceed. This can be used to identify core  thoughts and traumas and integrate with them in the course of dealing  with difficult personal experiences and thoughts.

Astral Projection

Astral projection is the act of lucid  dreaming during deep sleep. Qualitatively, this state feels more mundane  than a traditional lucid dream, and it feels more thought-like. As we  enter deep sleep, we finally feel ourselves leave our body.  Paradoxically, we are actually entering our memory, completely cut off  from the external world. For a moment, we haven’t yet forgotten the  rules of external reality or the context we fell asleep in. Our short  term memory takes a short amount of time to clear, and in that time when  we first enter an astral state we experience ourselves as leaving our  body where we left off before we forget where we were when we fell  asleep as our previous circumstance is cleared from our short term  memory. Some people feel vibrations; other people feel nothing at all as  they transition from light sleep to deep sleep.

The general   framework for astral projecting is as follows: lay down in a comfortable  location; focus on staying awake as you slowly fall asleep. Eventually,  you will become overwhelmingly tired that it is almost beyond your  capability to hang on to your conscious awareness. Continue to stay  focused and eventually, your body will feel strange in some way.  Different people experience this change differently. It can be difficult  to get up and to exit the body; no longer being able to move the body  means you are in an astral state. Eventually, if you stay awake and keep  trying to interact with the world, you will leave your body.

This  is a good framework, although to properly associate this state of mind  for your deliberate use later, I recommend a slight permutation to the  classic technique. Before laying down to astral project, enter into your  mind’s eye. See a green glowing 2 in the middle of a field of green  roses. The sky above is filled with green petals. Turn around and see a  door with the letter B glowing green. Reflect on your intention and  enter the door; it should be dark. This signals to your mind that you  are beginning to focus with the intention of astral projecting. Some  people might want to stay immersed in the mind’s eye and imagine a green  landscape beyond the door; a green hedge maze with infinite twists and  turns, and green marble fountains and benches. You will completely enter  your internal landscape when you fall into a deep sleep. This is  similar to hedgecrossing, and it is easy to get stuck in a hedgecrossing  state and it can be hard to transition to an astral state, although  some do it this way. It is important to fall asleep in astral  projection, whereas in hedgecrossing it is important to stay aware as  you are near sleep. In an astral state, you completely lose touch with  the external world and your internal world becomes your entire reality.

Uses

Astral  projection is fun. The vivid emotions provoked by this state of mind   can be entertaining. It is interesting to watch the changes in cognition  that accompany the different stages of sleep. It is possible to use   lucid dreaming states in order to solve or work on personal problems. As  in hedgecrossing, analyzing and interacting with the content of dreams  can be highly meaningful and symbolic.

Some people use dreams to  help deal with psychological issues. Profound visions, such as religious  experiences and positive dreams, can be used to help improve mood even  if one isn’t spiritual. It is possible re-enact difficult memories or  scary situations and to master them in dreams, which leads to one  feeling more comfortable with that memory or situation in waking life.

Because  of the way we think, we often encounter certain types of forms when we  astral project. These forms reflect the way our brain encodes and   interacts with the world around us in our memory. We have specific types  of memory rather than just one unified type of memory; we have memories  for knowledge, behaviors, habits, associations between ideas, and  events. We also have further subdivisions in our memory for our   perception of ourselves, others, places, cultural stereotypes, objects -  and our relationships (which can take the form of opinions, a   perception of personality, narrative plots, and themes) to these things.  We can interact with these elements of our mind in a literal way in   dream states and understand how our memory itself is structured.

People  often encounter elements of our memory- and its ability to create novel  versions of things it has introjected- in specific forms in our dreams.  Some people refer to these constructs as deities or spirits, others see  them as thoughtforms depending on if they subscribe to a spiritual  belief system or not. We can perceive other people or ideals as  characters that feel emotionally profound; we can perceive otherworldly  places that feel as though they are beyond us. We can perceive the  elements of our memory in a vivid way that is highly creative because of  the memory shuffling that is occurring during memory consolidation  which happens during sleep. I am convinced that dreaming is people  watching the process of (some part of) memory consolidation in a literal  way.

Lucid Dreaming

Lucid dreaming takes place during REM  sleep. In a normal person who isn’t sleep deprived, REM sleep sets in  after about 90 minutes. This makes entering a lucid dream through the  traditional way of meditating through the previous sleep states  difficult, although it is possible. Some people attempt to enter REM  sleep directly by waking themselves up and then going back to bed again;  because their mind is interrupted mid-sleep cycle, they may enter REM  again quickly.

The best way to attain lucidity during REM sleep,  in my opinion, is to engage in reality checks. Reality checks train us  to check during dreams automatically to see if we are sleeping or not.  We pick some detail about dreams that sets them apart from reality, and  during the day we check several times to see whether or not we are  sleeping. Eventually, this habit carries over into dreams and we  naturally question whether or not we are dreaming - which prompts us to  enter a lucid dream if we ask this question while we are dreaming.

Here  are some examples of reality checks: dreams constantly change and   shift, so if you look at something, look away, and then look back - if   you are dreaming, it should have changed. If you aren’t dreaming, it   will stay constant. In dreams, you can manipulate things with your mind;  try changing some element of the scenery as you would in a dream, or   try to fly. Trying to do these mental exercises from a waking state   feels silly and doesn’t work, but in a dream it can trigger you to   realize you are dreaming if you check to see if you can do these things and you can. Regularly check to see if you are dreaming during the day,  and check for these properties found only in dreams. Eventually, you   will ask the question during a dream and will become lucid.

Intentions  are helpful for the attainment of lucid dreaming. Before bed, enter   into your mind’s eye and find yourself on a red beach with a large red   3. A door with a glowing red C awaits you. Enter it, holding your   intention to lucid dream that night as you allow yourself to fall   asleep. When you attain lucidity, think back on the red C and the red 3.  This will associate these concepts with sleep. You can think on these red concepts in order to help with dream recall. These is called an anchor.  Anchors can be used to help keep you present during the dream and   remind you that you are lucid. Regularly think back on the red room with  the C; create a glowing C or 3 in your hand. The action of doing this grounds you in your dream and prevents you from losing your lucidity or  from waking up.

Additionally, you can check your dream journal for  patterns you are encountering during your natural dreams. These should  be your REM sleep dreams as these are the easiest to recall if you  weren’t lucid during them. Recognizing common types of dreams and dream  locations can help you recognize that you are dreaming.

Uses

Lucid  dreaming is fun. REM sleep dreams are vivid and highly creative. Lucid  dream states can be used to flesh out story ideas or to obtain inspiration.  The emotional vividness and the surreal ideas encountered in this state  of mind are ideal for creative inspiration, like to get inspiration for  an otherworldly landscape to draw or for a fictional place or character  for a story.

If you are going to use a lucid dream state for some  purpose, set your intention ahead of time. It can be fun to explore  dreams without an intention, but for goal directed purposes it is  important to set your intention or else you will forget while you are  maintaining your hold on your lucidity. Do you want to work on a story  idea? Okay. Do you want to focus on the plot, the setting, the theme, or  the characters?

You can focus on one element of your story that  you want to flesh out, or several. You can focus on them one at a time,  or all at once. It is difficult to hold many ideas in mind at once.  Reminding yourself of your story world, or the characters, or a scene  will cause it to manifest in your dream. Because dreams constantly shift  and evolve, it will immediately come to life and go in a direction you  barely control. This can be used for creative inspiration. That is how  one uses dreams - anything that manifests in the dreams suddenly comes  to life and takes on a mind of its own during a dream state. Interacting  with it intensifies this effect, leading to interesting ideas and  feelings.

[oh-no-a-whovian]

Like real people do pt 2

Boba Fett X daughter reader. Din Djarin x Fett! Reader

Summary: [Y/N] Fett is ready to inherit her father’s armour. He just has to help a Mandalorian and his son first. A Mandalorian you feel an immediate connection with.

Warnings: none?

Word count: 1544

Links: masterlist

You groan and bite your lip as pain surges through your side, pulling you from sleep. The smell of hygiene equipment and sterile surfaces fills your nose as you fight the stark white lights to open your eyes.

“Your father isn’t very happy with you.” a deep voice sounds to your right and you freeze, racking your mind trying to remember who it is. Forcing your eyes open at last, the bright lights hurt your eyes as they reflect off the man’s shiny armour as he sits relaxed on the seat beside you.

“No, he wouldn’t be” you huff out a pained laugh, wincing and clasping your side as the wound seems to burn. “First time he begrudgingly lets me join and I get stabbed”

“Thank you”

“For what? Getting stabbed?” you groan as you try to sit up. Swiftly the Mandalorian is by your side, helping you move and shoving pillows behind you.

“For trying. You almost died trying to help and… I’m… grateful” he says as he sits back down. You simply nod as you nestle into your new position.

“I’m guessing we didn’t have enough bacta?” you ask as you eye the bloody bandage on your side.

“No, there was enough. It was a deep wound, even bacta can’t heal that instantly.”

“I’m sorry I lost the kid” you say as you stare into the visor of his helm. “I tried but… I doubt even my father could have handled four specialty battle droids” he nods solemnly as he leans back into the chair, his visor still locked on you. “We’re in hyperspace right? Where we headed?” you ask as you notice the familiar buzz through the ship.

“Nevarro. I have a friend who can help us find the people who took Grogu.” He says looking over as Fennec enters with a tray of food for you. “Will take us a few days to get there though”

“His name’s Grogu?” you smile, never looking away from the man in beskar, you only have eyes for him right now. Even as Fennec places your tray down. “Do you have a name?” you smirk as you gently lean towards him, grabbing a wafer from the tray without even looking.

“Not sure your father would approve of you flirting with the Mandalorian [Y/N]” Fennec huffs in amusement. Gently she moves the blanket and pulls off the bandage, checking the progress on the wound.

“If you’re trying to embarrass me, it’s not gonna work” you grin, point a finger at her as you crunch into the wafer. “So? Name?”    

“Din” he replies and you hear a huff of amusement through his vocoder.

“Din” you grin “it’s nice to meet you. I promise we’ll get your kid back.”

“Good to see you up” your father says behind you making you stand up straight in front of the mirror. You turn when you realise what he’s wearing from the reflection. The armour is scraped up, patches of silver beskar shining through the chipped green and red paints. A huge dint sits above the left eye and an antenna rises above the right side of the head. It’s so similar to Din’s but so uniquely Fett. “You had me worried sick [Y/N]”

“I know daddy” you sigh, looking down feeling shame.

“I didn’t argue. I let you out of the ship, and you almost die.” He says as he pulls off his helmet dumps it on the bed and within just a few steps, is pulling you into his arms. It’s uncomfortable compared to what you’re used to, the beskar doing its job. Making a hardened exterior.

“I’m okay daddy. I promise.”

“I’ll fix the armour up for you, make sure it never happens again” you can hear the worry in his voice as he tries not to crush you in his arms. You know you’re all he has apart from this ship and although he’s a hardened bounty hunter, you know that if he lost you it would kill him.

“My side is almost healed” you mention as you pull away, grabbing your necklace from beside the sink. “Should be good to go before we even reach Nevarro” you see him tense when he realises you’re saying you’re ready to try again but he says nothing just nods. You know he hates it but surely e knows he can’t keep you hidden from the dangers of the galaxy forever.

“Guess I’ll have to get to work on the armour then” he sighs, grabbing the helm from the bed.

“Thank you daddy” you smile, placing a soft kiss on his cheek.

“Should you really be doing that?” you hear the Mandalorian ask from the doorway as you do pull ups in your room.

“Probably not but I feel fine” you huff as you pull yourself up, hold, then drop.

“Nice necklace” he comments and you smirk as you approach him. Your necklace sits practically in your cleavage that is very on display. “What’s the symbol?”

“Thanks, I’m not sure actually. It’s from a market in the colonies near the centre of the galaxy. Apparently the merchant got it from a planet called Earth on the un-charted side of the galaxy. Apparently it’s called an ankh.”

“It’s… interesting.”

“Was there a reason you came to find me?” you ask as you pour yourself a glass of spotchka from your hidden stash. Your father would be none too pleased to find you’re hiding this stuff.

“Uh… no… I was just walking by. Was clearing my head. Not used to not being the pilot.”

“Mmm, well feel free to use the exercise equipment in my room” you offer gesturing around to the stuff behind you. “I definitely won’t mind the show” you wink as you recline back against the head of the bed. You hear his modulator try to hide his small laugh, a smile spread to your cheeks at the sound. You wish you knew what he looked like, could see what his smile is like.

“Maybe some other time. Like Fennec said earlier not sure your father would approve” he echoes in amusement. You eye him up and down, tilting your head as you watch him hover by the door way, not seeming to want to leave.

“You’re probably right. Feel free to have a seat” you hum, gesturing to the space beside you. he hesitates for a second, looking between the door and your prone form.  Eventually he gives in, taking up the space beside you. His position is stiff, laying as if he wants to relax but also ready to bolt from the room. “You’re trying to distract yourself aren’t you?” you ask as you turn onto your side to look at him better. “Your head is running through the thousand things they could be doing and you have no idea what to do for the two days it’s gonna take just to get to Nevarro”

“You know the helmet is supposed to make it so you can’t read what I’m feeling… among other things.” He deflects, keeping his visor staring straight at the stark silver ceiling, almost as bright as his helm.

“He’s going to be fine.” You say quietly as you lay the rest of the way down, placing a hand gently on his bicep. You feel him tense more, if that’s even possible, but eventually he relaxes, the tension filling his body seeping away. “You’ll see him again and he will be so happy to be in the safety you will make for him. He’ll be so happy to be with you again”

“Don’t know about how safe it is for him to be with me. I lost him.”

“I lost him. You can only say you lost him if you were the one stabbed by a massive robot.” You tease, making him finally look at you. “You feel it right? Even with all the worry, you know he’s ok.” Slowly he nods, the motion practically unnoticeable because of the full get up. “Hold onto that feeling and it will give you the strength you need.”

For a while you felt his eyes on you as you kept yours closed beside him. It’s like this weight, a buzz under your skin and in your mind. A feeling that makes you want to move the helmet just to check. But instead you lie still until you feel the buzz leave and his breathing even out into soft breaths. You almost want to touch him, place a hand on his chest and feel the fall and rise, but you keep your hand where it is, on the cloth on his bicep. Opening your eyes, you stare at the metal clad man in front of you and smile. The moment quickly diminishing when there’s a knock at your door way.

“Your father wants you so he can make sure he edits the armour shape properly.” Fennec says, keeping her voice low as if she knows the man beside you is asleep. With a small nod, gentle movements and a glance back at the man in your bed, you follow her out. You can’t help but think though how well he fits in your space. You don’t know why but you really like that he does.

 Tags: @yamaktaria @rand0m--fangirl @salty-sith-bitch @periwinklehoney  @itsroguelife @rogueheretic555

[spencers-renaissance]

baby, you’re my new years’ eve

Summary: You and Emily are hosting a New Years’ Eve party for all of your friends, but she’s acting a little weird. You finally find out why when the clock strikes midnight.

Tags: fluff, nye fic, proposal, getting engaged, domesticity, romance, flirting, day in the life 

Pairing: Emily x Reader

Word Count: 3.6k

Masterlist // Read on AO3

It’s almost 10am by the time you get back from your morning errands, laden with bags and a dusting of snow decorating your coat. You shrug out of your coat and scarf, peel off your gloves, and kick off your boots as you venture further into the house you share with your girlfriend, a warm safe haven from the frozen wind outside. All the Christmas lights the two of you had put up together a few weeks ago are turned on, and the warm and happy feeling settling in your chest only intensifies when you shoulder the kitchen door open to see Emily awake and drinking a cup of coffee at the table.

“You’re up,” you smile, knowing that Emily likes a lie-in on her days off, and she damn well deserves it, too.

“You’re back,” she echoes, a matching bright smile lighting up her face. She’s still in her pyjamas, a dressing gown thrown around her shoulders, and her hair has been let down from its bun, a slight curl to it after having slept with it up. She looks absolutely beautiful, naturally.

“I am.” You walk further into the room and put your bags down on the kitchen counter, beginning to unpack them. “I picked up some stuff for the party tonight, but I also got you breakfast.” You grab a plate from the cupboard and load it up with the pastries you’d bought from the local bakery, sold to you by the baker who knows both you and Emily by name.

“Oh,” she gasps in delight. “Have I told you lately I love you?” She reaches eagerly for the plate to place it on the table before reaching around for a kiss.

“You have,” you confirm, amused, “you tell me every day, Em.”

“Because it’s true,” she nods with wide eyes through a mouthful of almond croissant.

Laughing, you grab yourself a plate and a few pastries before joining Emily at the table. “Did you sleep alright?”

“Mm, it was a bit broken,” she admits, not quite meeting your eye for some reason. “But I made up for it with a little lie-in this morning.” Emily never sleeps badly at home. She’s always said that sleeping in her own bed with you wrapped around her is the best sleeping tablet she’s ever tried, but you don’t dwell on it too much.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” you say sympathetically. “You could always have a nap early this afternoon. Need to be in the best shape for partying the night away.”

“Yeah, I might do,” she says, looking back up at you. “If I start to feel tired I’ll try and sleep. Anyway, how did you sleep, Y/N?”

“Like a baby,” you smile. “Woke up early so I thought I’d beat the New Years’ Eve rush to buy up the rest of the snacks. Plus, pastries for breakfast… can’t beat that.”

“You definitely can’t,” Emily says, a smudge of icing on her lip. “Thank you for doing that, sweetheart.”

“Don’t worry about it,” you say, leaning over to wipe the icing off with your thumb, kissing her for good measure. “Icing,” you explain with a grin as you pull away.

“Ah,” she says knowingly, winking at you before leaning back in for another kiss. “Right, come on. Finish your breakfast and we’ll get on with the day.”

The rest of the morning is spent in the kitchen. You’d decided that as much of the food on offer at the New Years’ party the two of you had planned should be homemade as possible, which meant a fridge full of baked goods you’d already prepared but a short list of items that still needed to be made. It was a bit of an undertaking, but it kept you busy. Despite having known the rest of the BAU for years and having been fully incorporated into their family, you still get nervous before each gathering. Being surrounded by powerful, smart, successful FBI agents was always going to be intimidating, no matter how much you considered them your friends.

“Emily, please don’t stick your finger into the butter and then plunge it into the sugar,” you sigh, a little exasperated as your girlfriend shoves her greasy finger into her mouth for the third time.

“What?” she asks, pretending to be insulted. “It tastes good.”

“Yeah, it’s also not very hygienic,” you point out, rolling out the cookie dough.

“Oh, please, what’s a bit of my saliva when you kiss me everyday anyway?” she asks.

“Well, I might think that,” you reason, “but I’m not sure our guests will. Unless you’ve been running around kissing them, too?” You point your rolling pin at her accusatorily as you wait for her response.

“No!” she cries, kissing you in promise of her devotion. “I only have eyes for you, baby. By the way is it too early to have a glass of wine?”

You roll your eyes at that, trying unsuccessfully to stifle a fond laugh. “It’s 11am Emily,” you giggle. “What’s got into you this morning?”

“Nothing,” she says defensively. “I’m just… excited for the party later.”

“Hmm, okay,” you say dubiously, raising an amused eyebrow in her direction. “In that case, you get started on the samosas. Fry up the filling I prepared and roll out the pastry for me? Then all we need to do is put the chips in later on and set it all up.”

“Anything for you, baby,” she smiles, kissing your cheek before getting on with her assignment.

You work together with your ‘happy’ playlist playing over the kitchen speakers for the next hour and a bit to get all the food ready, and by the time the samosas are being fried, you’re both in desperate need of a sit down. “Right, let’s order something to eat and watch an episode or three of Parks and Rec before we need to get ready and set up, how does that sound?” Emily asks as you both begin the mammoth task of cleaning up the bombsite of a kitchen.

“I don’t know, Em, we have so much food in the fridge,” you say, worrying your lip at the decision.

“Yeah, but it’s all for the party tonight, you don’t want to eat it now,” she says, reaching for your hand and squeezing it comfortingly. “Come on, we’ll tidy up afterwards. I’ll order in some UberEats and we’ll relax for a little while. We deserve it after all this.”

“Okay,” you relent, offering her a grateful smile and letting yourself be guided to the sofa by Emily’s hand.

“You’ve done an amazing job at making all this food, sweetheart,” she says warmly, running a hand through your hair. “You should rest for a bit now so you can properly enjoy tonight, yeah?” She tucks a blanket around you and hands you the remote before she pulls out her phone to order you both some lunch.

Sandwiches eaten and two extra coffees polished off, you get started on setting up the house for the party. The leftover decorations from Christmas make the house bright and pretty enough, so it’s fairly easy to make the house look welcoming, but you still have to sort out the food and drink, move the furniture, and put away the valuables. Not to mention getting yourselves ready.

“Everyone’s arriving at 8, right babe?” Emily calls from the kitchen as you move the coffee table to the side in the living right.

“That’s right,” you call back. “But Spencer and Penelope will probably be here early.”

“Wouldn’t surprise me,” Emily says, walking into the living room and leaning against the doorframe as you finish pushing the table aside to make the room more accessible.

“Does this look okay?” you ask, putting your hands on your hips as you survey your living room.

“It looks great, baby,” Emily reassures you, pushing off the door and pulling you into a side hug as you both look at the decorated room. “The Christmas tree is still up which makes the whole room look lovely, and the New Year banner is nice, too. It’s absolutely perfect for what we need it to do.”

“Okay,” you agree, turning to the side to press your face into her neck, kissing her briefly before pulling away again. “Let’s tidy away the expensive stuff and then go and get ready, yeah?”

“Y/N, there are like 15 people coming and nobody’s gonna get off their tits; we don’t really need to put this stuff away,” she promises, but it’s to no avail.

“Well, I’d rather be safe. Even tipsy people can do some damage,” you point out, putting Emily’s mother’s vase in the cabinet along with a few decorations from the mantle.

“Fair enough,” she agrees, heading into the kitchen to continue tidying up after your earlier cooking adventures. You join her a moment later and the two of you work quickly to do the washing up, tidy the counter, and put the dishwasher on. You’re soon looking at a spick and span kitchen, nearly party-ready, and you smile at your girlfriend in satisfaction. “Looks amazing, doesn’t it?” she smiles back at you.

“It does indeed,” you nod. “It’s only 4. You wanna sit down for a bit before getting ready?”

“Absolutely I do,” she says. “Wanna nap with me?”

“Please,” you sigh, grabbing her hand to lead her down to your bedroom. The two of you ditch the trousers and bury under the covers, setting a timer for an hour before promptly falling asleep.

“Want me to wash your hair?” Emily asks as you both stand under the hot jet of water. Your favourite part of moving in with Emily was definitely the shower; you’d moved from a flat with a from a tiny bath and shower combo unit to a beautiful house on the outskirts of DC with a large walk-in shower and the best water pressure you’d ever experienced; it was quite the upgrade.

“Only if I get to do yours afterwards,” you grin, leaning in for a rather wet and soapy kiss.

“Wouldn’t have it any other way,” she says, spinning you round and pouring a generous dollop of shampoo into her palm, lathering up your hair as she massages her fingers into your scalp in a delicious massage. You can’t help but lean into the touch, just as you always do with Emily, making her chuckle fondly. “Feel good?”

You just let out a happy moan in response, sighing as the water washes the shampoo away and Emily quickly applies some conditioner. “Your turn,” you say, doing the same for your girlfriend as she sighs appreciatively.

You both shave your legs and underarms quickly before finishing up in the shower and towelling off next to one another in the spacious bathroom. “Right, it’s 5.30,” you say, checking your phone while Emily wraps her hair up, “so we’ve got like… two hours, probably, until Pen and Spencer show up.”

“Plenty of time,” Emily says breezily, waving her hand in your direction as you open the bathroom window to air out the humidity.

“Still, better to be early rather than late,” you say pointedly, grabbing Emily’s hand and dragging her away from her perch by the radiator and into the bedroom.

She hums as she drops her towel and peruses her wardrobe. When she turns back around with the dress she plans on wearing, you don’t bother to hide your blatant appreciation. After all these years you’re still somehow blown away with how sexy Emily manages to be. “Naughty girl,” she gasps in mock admonishment. “We don’t have time for that. Your words not mine.”

“Life’s tough,” you sigh heavily, walking over and squeezing her ass lightly, taking great pleasure in making her jump as you pull out the dress you’d decided on earlier in the week. “What do you think?” you ask her.

“It will look absolutely gorgeous, Y/N,” she promises, kissing your cheek. She passes you your bathrobe and pulls her own on as you both head to your adjoining dressing tables to sort out your hair. “Straight or curly?”

“Hmm, straight, I think,” you reply, “you know I love your natural hair. I’m gonna go curly though, so we’ll compliment each other perfectly.”

You put on some music and get ready together in tandem, and it goes about as simply as it can when Emily’s involved. You only have three make-up brushes chucked at you and her desk isn’t a total disgrace by the time you’re finished, so you take it as a win. It’s just gone 7 by the time you’re both dressed up to the nines and ready for the party.

“You look… breathtaking,” Emily says dreamily as she drinks you in, kissing you gently so as not to smudge either of your lipsticks.

“Thanks, Em,” you say shyly. “You look absolutely beautiful, too.” She’s wearing a gorgeous full-length black dress with a deep v neck line and a slit in the right leg. She’s a vision next to your colourful outfit and bright makeup, always complementing one another in just the right ways.

“Right, well, if we both look amazing, it’s time to set out the food, isn’t it?” she asks, winking at you as she leads the way out to the kitchen, shutting and locking the door behind you to prevent any stray party guests from wandering in.

The next hour passes quickly and soon guests are spilling through the door, brightening the whole house with their chatter and laughter, getting started on the wine and party food. Emily is marginally quieter than usual, but you brush it up to her just being tired, especially when she’s roped into a conversation with Hotch and Rossi and immediately perks up.

The whole of the BAU team is here, along with your best friends and the few Couple Friends you and Emily had made over the last few years that made you both feel far too grown up and sophisticated. Your friends quickly mingle in with the rest of the guests, though, which was your biggest worry, so with that relief you let yourself relax and enjoy the party.

Spencer and Penelope snag you into a conversation, plying you with champagne and the samosas you’d made with Emily earlier until you properly let go and enjoy yourself. “Wait, Emily made these?” Spencer asks, slightly incredulous at the idea of his most chaotic friend being even somewhat capable in the kitchen.

“She was supervised, don’t worry,” you laugh, biting into one delicious samosa after another.

“I wish I could cook,” Spencer says as he accepts another one from Penelope’s proffered plate.

“Aw, I’ll teach you baby genius,” Penelope grins. “But I once watched you try and put a croissant in the toaster, so you may be a lost cause.”

“Hey, that was when I’d first joined the BAU,” Spencer protests. “It was the first time I had a salary and could afford such luxuries, you can’t blame me for not knowing what to do with it.” His defenses fall on deaf ears, though, as you and Penelope laugh loudly at his expense. “Derek will defend me,” he eventually mutters before running off to find his boyfriend.

You and Penelope chat easily for a while, introducing her to a few of your friends as you orbit around the downstairs of your house. Eventually, you cross paths with Emily again, who still looks a little tense and quiet. “Hey,” you say, catching her arm and subtly drawing her to the side. “Is everything okay, baby?”

“Yeah, of course,” she says, plastering on a smile you know is fake. “I’m fine, sweetheart. Just enjoy the party, okay? We’ll talk later.”

You can’t really enjoy the party when the back of your mind is continually worrying about your girlfriend, but you’re able to circle around the house a few more times, chatting with all of your guests as everyone tucks into the alcohol and food. Before you know it it’s nearing midnight and Emily’s in the corner of the kitchen having a serious-looking conversation with Hotch.

Tentatively approaching, you tap Emily on the shoulder. “Everyone’s gonna watch the ball drop in the living room,” you say. “You coming?” You try and smile as encouragingly as possible, taking her soft hand in yours.

“Yeah,” she says, looking a little flustered and you can see a little sheen of sweat on her forehead, “yeah, of course, baby. Let’s go.” She hands her glass of champagne to Hotch in a sort of weird gesture that has you furrowing her eyebrows, but nevertheless she grips your hand firmly and you swan into the living room which is already housing most of the guests, everyone chatting and laughing loudly. The sight of so many people you love and adore has you smiling warmly, and you press your arm up against Emily’s, resting your head on her shoulder as the 2 minute countdown begins.

“I love you so much, you know,” you whisper, just for her to hear in the loud, excited room. “I can’t wait to spend a whole other year together. I feel so lucky to have you.”

She moves her neck slightly causing you to lift your head and you’re met with a happy, excited smile, all traces of the nervous Emily that had been swanning around the party all night disappeared. “I feel even luckier to have you, sweetheart,” she murmurs. “You have no idea.”

You both lean in for a kiss which is quickly interrupted by Derek. “Bit early, ladies,” he calls across the room, “it’s not midnight yet.” He’s got Spencer curled up under his arm on the sofa, resting comfortably next to JJ and Penelope who have also cuddled up together. Hotch and Rossi are standing by the Christmas tree rolling their eyes fondly at their agents.

Emily responds with a purposeful middle finger and a well-practiced sneer, but Derek can’t reply because soon the room fills with a swell of noise as everyone starts to count down.

Everyone cheers as the new year is rung in, but as you turn to kiss Emily, you’re instead faced with her on one knee, offering an absolutely beautiful engagement ring. You gasp loudly, gaining everyone’s attention and everyone stops their celebration as a happy, expectant hush falls on the room, the TV’s celebration the only sound.

“Y/N, I can’t express how much I love you,” Emily starts, voice confident but you can hear the undercurrent of emotion written all over it. “All I want to do for the rest of my life is be with you. Ring in each new year with you, celebrate every Christmas with you, come home from every hard case to you, eat pastry for breakfast with you. You’re all I need to be happy, and you’d make me impossibly happier if you’d do me the honour of being my wife. So, Y/N, will you marry me?”

“Yes, oh my God,” you reply tearfully as soon as she’s finished, tears spilling down your face as she carefully pushes the ring onto your finger and stands up to hug you. Everyone around you is clapping and cheering and celebrating your love but your whole world is shrunk down to the two of you, Emily’s hands on your lower back, her ring on your finger, the press of her body up against yours.

Eventually though, you pull away and kiss her, turning to face your guests with the happiest smile on your face. Hotch is smiling proudly and all the events of the evening slip into place, so you turn to kiss Emily on the cheek fondly. Penelope is crying, naturally, as are most of your friends and everyone crowds round in excitement, congratulating the two of you.

When you finally get a bit of space later in the night, you ask Emily where she’d kept the ring all evening.

“In my bra,” she answers, grinning widely.

“God, how did I not guess that,” you smile fondly, rolling your eyes. You kiss her anyway, though, because she’s hot and you’re very much in love.

“I’m so fucking happy you said yes,” she whispers, keeping her head pressed closely to yours.

“Did you seriously think I would ever say anything else?” you ask, surprised that Emily could possibly think you’d say no.

“Well, I obviously had a feeling,” she admits. “But you can’t help but feel fearful of the tiny probability you’re wrong.”

“Well I didn’t,” you say happily, leaning forward slightly to kiss her softly on the nose.

“No, you didn’t,” Emily replies, gripping her hand. “I seriously love you so much, Y/N.”

“And I seriously love you so much, Emily,” you grin. “I can’t wait to call you my wife, but I’m dead happy with fiancée. That will definitely suffice for now.”

The guests slowly trickle out as the hours tick on, eager to leave the newly engaged couple to themselves. Penelope and Spencer make you promise to have a catch-up brunch in the next few weeks to which you eagerly agree, and Hotch and Rossi both congratulate you like they’re both you and Emily’s dads. Derek gives you both massive hugs and JJ follows up with much gentler hugs and congratulations.

“Tidy up in the morning?” you propose, making Emily’s eyebrows shoot up; you usually insist on tidying up there and then, but she quickly understands as you start to unzip your dress and walk backwards towards the bedroom.

“Tidy up in the morning, indeed,” she agrees, running after you.

“My fiancée,” you sigh happily as you enter your cosy bedroom, pausing to kiss Emily softly.

“Your fiancée,” Emily agrees with a wide grin gracing her lips, leading you to the bed as you both start off this next exciting chapter of your lives together in the most appropriate way you can imagine.

@strippersenseii @criminalmindsvibez

[legaciezzz]

Family History

Hope x Male Reader

Genre: Chapter fic

Request: So for the pregnant Hope story I was thinking maybe a 3 part series part 1 is the break up Hope keeps thinking his cheating on her and they decide to break up. Part 2 she keeps getting sick in the morning and later finds out she's pregnant and is afraid the reader doesn't want kids. Part 3 reader gets worried about Hope and confronts her and she tells h she's pregnant and was scared he'll leave but the reader is okay with having kids and will help her raise their kid together.

A/N: Hope you don’t mind, but i changed up a couple things.

No relationship is ever perfect and your relationship with Hope was no exception. Not to say dating Hope was bad. You loved her, but she had a had a tendency to get jealous-- which made things difficult sometimes-- and you being an extrovert didn't help that much.

Hope didn't mind that you talked to lots of people, but it did get under her skin when she saw how much time you were spending with other girls.

You were hanging with you friends, watching the game of Wickery going on when you saw Hope wave to you from the other side of the field.

You excused yourself and made your way over to her, almost getting hit with the ball.

"Whoa, are you okay?" Hope asked.

"Yeah." you said, giving her a light kiss on the forehead. "What's up?"

"Nothing. I just wanted to know if you're busy later." she said, brushing a piece of hair behind her ear and biting her lip gently. "I was thinking maybe we could spend time together."

"Oh, sorry I can't. I told a friend I'd help them study. If you want though, we could watch the game."

"Sure."

After the game was over you kissed her goodbye and you both went off to do your own.

Hope was walking down the hall the pass the library when she saw you talking to a girl who she has seen with you a lot recently and smiling, feeling a bit of jealousy come over her.

After you were done in the library you left to head to your next class and ran into Hope right after you and your friends parted ways.

"Who was that in the library? I thought you were helping a friend study." was the first thing she said to you.

You looked at her confused. "I was.. That's Bianca."

"You didn't think to tell me that friend was a girl?"

As soon as you heard her say that you felt your eyes wanting to roll. "I didn't think I had to. Look, I gotta get to class, can we not do this right now."

You leaned in to give her a chaste kiss  on the cheek which she rejected and not having time for her attitude, you just hurried to class.

After you were done with classes and studying a little you decided to get ready for the party later that evening. As you were putting on a new shirt, Hope swung by.

"Hey, Babe." you said seeing her come in.

"Hey."

You finished pulling down your shirt. "What's up?"

"I just came by to say hi, what are you doing?"

"I'm meeting up with Bianca at the mill."

As soon as you saw her reaction you already regretted Bianca's name. "You've been spending a lot of time with her..." she said.

"Because she's new and I'm showing her around.. Do you have a problem with that?"

"No. I'm just saying that you two seem pretty friendly." she said, folded her arms with the implication.

"Because we're friends... Am I not supposed to be friendly?"

"I mean when it comes every girl that looks your way."

"Oh my god, I can believe you're doing this right now." you muttered under your breath, not able to look at her. "So I'm not allowed to be friends with girls then?"

"I didn't say that."

"Well that's what it's feels like." You walked over to the other side of your bed, running your hand through your hair. "Look, I'm sorry I have a social life instead of trust issues."

"Seriously? You're pulling that card again?"

"Well maybe I wouldn't if you didn't jump to the conclusion that I might possibly be cheating on you every time you feel jealous. It's not my fault you're insecure."

That one statement sparked a much bigger argument which quickly turned into a yelling match. Things died down as the argument lost momentum. You were sitting at the end of your bed, face buried in your hands.

“I can’t do this anymore.” you said, completely drained.

Hope looked at you, even for your fair share of fights this seemed to come out of left field for her. “What?”

“I’m done... The jealousy. The fighting. I just can’t anymore.”

“Y/N...” she said, taking a step towards you.

You look up at her. “We were never gonna last anyway. We’re just too different. I like people, you only like three and it’s suffocating with you worrying about who you’re gonna lose next.”

“So we’re actually breaking up?” Hope asked with a look on her face that pulled at your heart.

“I’m sorry...” you said, giving her a light kiss on her cheek before walking away, leaving her alone to process everything.

. . .

The next morning Hoping  was walking to class with Lizzie who basically had to drag her out of bed after comforting her all last night. Hope just kept thinking about how awkward it was going to be when you guys run into each other which dreaded and knew would be unavoidable, and the more she thought about it and the more it made her feel sick. Suddenly, she put her books on the nearest surface and ran to the washroom to the first stall and threw up.

She wiped her mouth as she was finished and sat up against the stall. Then she caught a glance of the hygiene products on the washroom counter.

“Shit..” she breathed, thinking back to the last time she remembered getting her period with was past due.

“Hope? Is everything okay?” Lizzie said, entering the washroom  then saw her sitting on the floor.

Hope then looked up at her. “Please don’t tell Y/N.”

[gallavictorious]

Lmao your tags about Mickey being a laundry lover, I can just imagine him being the ‘Laundry Guy’ of their household, like everyone knows this is the thing Mickey does and maybe he takes comfort in the familiarity and domesticity of it? Maybe he’s really good at getting blood out of clothes and knows weird tricks for hard to remove stains

Ah, Mickey, the Laundry Guy of 2119 North Wallace! You might be onto something here, nonnie...

See, by and large I think that Mickey is – ahem – not overly concerned about doing his share of household chores. Contributing money is a given (as long as he gets to determine the means of procuration himself), and if he's confronted with something that (he thinks) needs doing right away and no one else is doing it, sure, he can boil some pasta or wash a couple of plates or take out the trash, but he has an exceedingly high tolerance for disorder so he's not likely initiate a spring clean or even bother with vacuuming the living room once a week just to keep it nice. A result of his upbringing, I'd imagine: the Gallaghers are pretty messy but the Milkoviches takes it to a whole nother level and while Mickey has come around on personal hygiene since he first met Ian, cleanliness still doesn't rank very high with him (as evidenced by Ian's complaints in 10x02 and his ignoble treatment of the couch pillow in 11x02). He... just doesn't care, and Mickey's not the sort to bother with things he doesn't see the point of just because you're supposed to (or because anyone nags him about it).

But clean clothes are nice, so laundry needs to happen once in a while and he does have some expertise from working the prison laundry. I can well see him walking past say Ian or Debbie putting things in, and noticing them doing some Common Laundry Mistake and going “no, no, no, can't put in like that, you gotta... “ (Yeah, I don't know what you've gotta, I don't even seperate my whites, so if the laundry science in this piece is bad, well, tough titties.)

Ian or Debbie, not in love with washing and finding it a little rich that Mickey of all people would have opinions on how they handle household work, just gives him an unimpressed glare: “Fine. You do it then.”

(I wanna say it's Carl putting things in, but if he might just end up doing as told and if he tried to get Mickey to do it instead, Mickey wouldn't, so it has to be Ian or possibly Debbie.)

And they walk away, leaving Mickey with a pile of dirty clothes and spluttering protests but some of those dirty clothes are his dirty clothes and he's all out of clean boxers so whatever. Muttering he sets his beer aside and sets to the task, and... it doesn't take very long? It isn't particularly hard? And it gets done right, which is a little satisfying.

So maybe he starts doing the laundry, if only so he can say that he does something if one bigmouthed Gallagher sibling or another starts going on about other chores. No, I'm not gonna scrub the kitchen floor, I already did two fucking loads of laundry today. No, it's not my turn to cook fucking dinner, Debbie, 'cause I just sorted like three dozen of socks for Franny and why the hell does the kid need so many socks anywway?

(Does he refuse to wash Carl's uniform? Does he 'accidentally' mix the light blue shirt up with Ian's new colour bleeding jeans one too many times? Bitch, he might.)

And the thing is, maybe he doesn't hate it. Maybe he finds it strangely soothing; meditative, even, if that was the sort of word he'd ever use. It's something to occupy his hands for a bit, at least, and the smell of clean laundry isn't horrible and the warmth of soft clothes fresh from the dryer isn't either and neither is doing something he's (unexpectedly) good at and which the rest of the family appreciates him doing.

Not like he fucking cares what they think or whatever, but... yeah. You know. It's okay.

Once it becomes obvious that laundry is Mickey's Thing now, the Gallaghers' instinct will be to poke a little gentle fun at him, 'cause getting real serious about stain removal just seems so at odds with his abrasive bad boy persona, but Ian quickly suggests that maybe they don't? Mickey is sensitive, after all, and if they make too big a deal out of it he might decide that they can do their own laundry from now on. (This doesn't stop Ian from poking some fun at his husband, but that's not the same at all. Mickey will happily tell him to fuck off, or to retort with some imaginative insult or other, and more often than not it ends with playful wrestling and we all know how that usually develops.)

Obviously this whole thing has to end with Fiona coming back for a visit. It's her first time home since she left and she didn't tell anyone she was coming, so when she walks through the kitchen door the only person there is her brother-in-law, busy by the washing machine, and Fiona finally gets her wish to see Mickey washing undies.

“Hi, Mickey,” she'll say, slowly closing the door behind her. It's weird being back, and weirder still to step into her childhood home and realize that she’s a visitor in the house of Mickey Milkovich. It’s not bad, really; just weird. “Need some help with that?”

Mickey will look up, and if he's surprised to see her he doesn't show it. “Hey,” he says, easy as anything. “Sure. You know where to find the iron.”

[chilling-seavey]

Qui Totum Vult Totum Perdit (d.s.) - 5

A/N Now the long chapters are really starting

Warnings: This story is centered around a murder so there will be graphic descriptions of blood, death/manslaughter, dealing with corpses, possible domestic abuse (physical/verbal), crime/covering up a crime, shock/grief, and other possibly heavy or triggering topics. Please read at your own discretion.

Avalon’s purse was left on the kitchen island right by the door. It was on its side as if it had been thrown there in some sort of haste when she came inside. I picked it up and ruffled through the small bag; pushing aside the tube of lipstick, small medicine bottle, few feminine hygiene products, and her wallet before accessing her phone.

Her lockscreen was a photo of me, taken on our honeymoon some time by the resort pool. If I didn’t feel the breath of shame and guilt on my neck, that certainly sealed it in. I typed in her passcode but was met with ‘incorrect pin’. I tried again, only to receive the same message. Since when did she change her passcode and not tell me?

We must ignore the fact that I changed mine a few weeks back without telling her as well.

The last thing I wanted to have to do was facial recognition, but it seemed that was my only option.

So I found myself back in the studio, patting softly over the blood soaked rug to the body of my wife to stick her iPhone in her face. Jonah watched from the doorway as I crouched down carefully on the balls of my feet and held the screen towards Avalon’s blank expression. The phone unlocked and the home screen appeared. I didn’t look at her for too long – honestly I couldn’t without risking being sent to empty my stomach again – and I simply took her phone over to the studio couch and sat down on the arm. Jonah stood beside me to watch over my shoulder as I opened up her contacts app and scrolled down to J.

You can imagine my surprise when the very first contact under that letter was simply the letter itself. It was too easy. I brought up any messages she had with that person and scrolled to the top of the reasonably short text thread. They had messaged her first,

Hey. Thanks for reaching out. I’ll have the stuff together for the end of the week as promised.

Great! Looking forward to it.

When’s your fiancé out next? I can drop by your place if you want.

He usually works late every day so whenever is good. Lunch tomorrow maybe?

Yeah, sounds good. See you then :)

There was only one other date that they had messaged – at least by text – and it was also a short yet cryptic conversation.

If you’re ready today I can come by. Daniel’s held up in meetings so I’m alone.

Yeah that’s fine. I’m at the Lincoln Motel in Pasadena. Room 19. Come by whenever.

1559 Lincoln Ave

Okay! I’ll head over now. I’m excited! :)

The green monster was never a kind friend, dear reader, and I couldn’t help but feel near sick again with the question as to if my wife had been cheating on me. Sure, I was no perfect man and I seemed to put a lot of my efforts into my work – maybe more than I should have – but never would I have dreamt about being unfaithful to her. Seemed as though she had thought differently. I locked Avalon’s phone and slid it in my pocket as I stood up, trying to act like it was something that just rolled off my back.

“What the fuck.” Jonah breathed.

I pushed a hand through my hair and rubbed the back of my neck tensely, ignoring his rhetorical question.

“You okay?” Jonah asked, setting his hand on my shoulder.

“Fine.” I nodded stiffly.

“Do you want to stop by the motel?”

I contemplated his offer for a moment. It was on the way out of state anyway and it would have been nice to get some answers. Maybe it would even help me figure out what happened to Avalon. This mysterious J person wasn’t necessarily in my good books at the moment.

“Yeah. We should.” I finally answered.

The first step before we could leave was to clean up the brutal scene that I had found myself amidst just in case anyone was to come past while we were gone. Our safest bet was to keep Avalon with us until we figured out what had happened; this was imperative especially if it came to the possible outcome where I had killed her. I grabbed an extra towel from under the sink in the studio and Jonah and I stood beside the body.

“Jesus Christ.” Jonah breathed as we stared at her.

I held the towel out to him, “You tuck this under her. I’ll lift her up.”

He nodded silently and watched as I stepped over my wife who was still laying out over the ruined rug. With one foot on either side of her, I bent down and slid my hands under her armpits and just around her back. She was terribly cold and I could feel it through the shirt she was still wearing. Ironic choice of words, but it was chilling.

Jonah slid the towel underneath her and the strain of me holding her limp body up caused more blood to trickle out of the gash across her neck and I looked away to keep from seeing any more. Waking up in it was enough. We moved down her body and I held up her hips so Jonah could tug the towel completely underneath her.

“Let’s move her to the hardwood.” I instructed flatly and we each took two corners of the towel to hoist her up off the blood-soaked rug.

Jonah and I shuffled across the studio and gently set her down on the hardwood in front of the front door to keep her off the rug. The knife still rested on the carpet, glinting teasingly in the late morning sun and I finally worked up the nerve to bend down and pick it up.

“I’ll leave you alone when you get it through your head what a psychotic bitch you’re being!”

“I’m psychotic?” she shrieked, whipping around to face me once we both entered the studio and I flicked on the light. The large collection of wedding gifts was piled neatly along the kitchenette counter and on the couch, the rest of the small single room building taken up by all of my music equipment. Avalon got right up in my face, pointing her finger at me behind furious brown eyes, and screaming until the minimal soundproofing almost muffled the edges of her voice, “Look at yourself! Screaming at me for simply missing my husband on our honeymoon! You’re so fucking psychotic it’s nearly goddamn comedic!”

“I’m not going to keep having this same argument with you, Avalon! I’m getting so sick of needing to defend myself against you time and time again! You just don’t respect me or my job!”

“Who even are you?” she scoffed humourlessly, “It’s nothing about respect, it’s about you being a decent human being – a decent husband – and actually showing me that you care about me!”

“Avalon, I swear to God if you don’t-”

“If I don’t what? Shut up? Be a good little wife and shut up and look pretty for you? Big important business tycoon Daniel Seavey is going to…do what exactly?”

With the knife in my hand, my eyes drifted to the stack of wedding gifts on the studio couch, the thin polished wooden box on the top capturing my attention. The lid was left open, revealing the velvet trimmed interior and the rest of the silver knives resting in a row inside. It was a wedding gift from my brother, the high-end knife set purchased and engraved with our surname on each dark wooden handle until they looked no less than ridiculously expensive and classy. The one empty slot in the velvet box had its assigned subject resting in my hand, the largest knife from the box weighing down in my fingers.

How strange and ironic it is; Avalon killed by a knife wielding her own surname. The surname only given to her a mere three weeks earlier. I had no time to stew on that, however, as I was sure that the fact she wasn’t at work that morning (and that neither was I) would start to raise suspicions. We had to get out of there before someone came looking for us.

I took the knife to the sink in the kitchenette along the far wall of the studio and turned on the hot water to rinse the blood off the blade. I found myself trembling slightly as I scrubbed, my hands struggling to keep still even under the warmth of the water. The red stained the water and flooded around the base of the stainless-steel sink as the drain pulled it down and soon my hands and the knife were left clean and spotless.

Jonah had the rug rolled up from the floor by the time I finished cleaning the knife and I thanked him quietly as I set the chef’s knife back in its slot in the wooden box. The handles stared back at me, twelve identical silver engravings of my surname staring back at me as if they knew what I had possibly done. I closed the lid and snapped the silver clasps shut.

“What do we do with the rug?” I asked my best friend.

Jonah exhaled deeply and brushed the back of his hand over his forehead. He thought for a minute before replying, “Bring it with us?”

I nodded in agreement, “Okay. I’ll grab my keys.”

I headed back into the main house quickly to grab my keys and anything else I might want to bring with me. My laptop case was an obvious and I tucked Avalon’s letter in my bag too just in case I might need it again while figuring everything out.

I was ready for a quick getaway but of course that would have been too easy. Another thing that drove my wife insane? The fact that I constantly was losing everything. My keys were usually the victim of my carelessness and this moment was obviously no exception. I couldn’t find them anywhere, along the front console table or in my laptop bag or on the kitchen counter.

Jonah stepped inside the back door again, “Are you coming?”

“Yeah.” I rushed back down the hallway to the master bedroom, scanning the side tables and the front pocket of our packed suitcase hurriedly.

Time wasn’t on our side and my tendency to misplace everything I own certainly wasn’t helping. On my way back down the hallway, I caught myself on the doorway to the walk-in-closet when I saw a glint out of the corner of my eye and stepped back to see my keys peeking out of my jean’s pocket. You would think I would have checked their first. Well, sorry to break it to you, but nothing was going as expected that morning.

I grabbed my keys from my blood-stained jeans and stuffed the hoodie and pants into my laptop bag too. I stopped to grab a baseball hat and set it on my head followed by my darkest sunglasses I had in my closet to try and keep some sort of physical neutrality for going into public before meeting Jonah back on the porch. I held my keys up to him as I walked right past him and around the side of the house to the gate. He followed right behind me with the expensive box of knives in hand.

The driveway backed right onto the side gate and I unlatched it and pulled the white pickets open to let ourselves through. Ah yes, my pretty expensive Los Angeles house and my white picket fence and my dead wife. Really living the perfect American dream, huh?

I unlocked my Tesla and yanked open the back door to toss in my overflowing laptop bag and Jonah’s heavy work bag while Jonah opened the trunk and tucked the knife set in the corner. We hurried back down the driveway towards the studio door and slipped back inside, stepping over Avalon to grab the rug first. We each took an end of the heavy rolled up vintage Persian and took it down to my car. I was lucky my car had been parked in reverse in the driveway which prevented any neighbours from possibly seeing us loading the trunk with questionable items.

The last thing we needed to take care of was Avalon but we couldn’t necessarily carry her outside in a blood streaked towel. We stood over her in thought of what to do next. We needed something to keep it discreet while still being able to keep her in one piece. There was no way I would be able to stomach cutting any limbs. I had gone through enough that morning as it was.

My eyes scanned my studio for any possible solution to our situation and quickly landed on one of the large travel cases I used for my production keyboard. I looked back down at Avalon’s body and then back to the long trunk. 

This was insane.

I stepped over her and walked over to the corner of the studio where the travel trunks were stacked up. I moved a few smaller ones from the top and Jonah came over to help me once he caught on to what I was doing. I flipped open the top of the trunk and made sure it was empty except for the thin plush padding that lined the interior. 

I refrained from making a joke about it at least being a comfortable place for her to lay.

Jonah and I each took an end of the towel again and hoisted her stiff body up and over to the trunk and lowered her in slowly. I made sure the towel was tucked inside and that her arms and legs were resting flatly before closing the lid and buckled up the case. Jonah and I met each other’s eyes over top of the trunk but didn’t speak a word before picking up either end and made our way out of the studio.

The walk down the side of the house to the driveway felt like forever. There we were, in broad daylight, on a regular Tuesday morning, carrying a dead body into the trunk of my car. The production case fit nicely into the trunk – I knew it would from the amount of times I had to bring it into work or over to Jonah’s house – and I shut the trunk over top of it. I let out a shaky exhale and Jonah and I glanced blankly at each other.

Detective Team: @jonahlovescoffee​ @randomlimelightxxx​ @stuffofseaveyy​ @hopinglimelight​ @tempus-ut-luceant​ @br4nd1s​ @xkelsev​ @hiya-its-amber​ @sexyseavey15​

[loversamongus]

Friends, Fevers, Family Movies

a/n: first one shot for @fromthewatertribe‘s 1k follower event! This turned out to be A LOT longer than I expected and it was also originally for a whole other prompt??? And then just??? Evolved into this??? I knew I wanted to write something that featured a Sokka friendship (and a Katara one!) but also feature good ol’ Zuko fluff. So here ya go. Word vomit. TO CELEBRATE NINA BEING AWESOME.

Also important: written as a world without covid, but does mention the flu. prompt: go to bed, you idiot.

words: 2k

relationship: Zuko x reader

Sharing an apartment with your best friends has its highs and lows. On the bright side, you truly lucked out between the epic prank wars, overly competitive game nights, and the bureaucratic division of chore responsibilities. However, there’s also the constant paranoia that someone can jump out of your closet in a gorilla costume, the frustrated search for the last blue Sorry piece after a certain sore loser flipped over the coffee table, and Katara’s insistence on hand washing all dishware even though the kitchen has a perfectly good dishwasher. The three of you never experience a dull moment.

And you’re so grateful to be living with them. Sokka and Katara are your best friends but now it’s like having a brother and sister of your own. Due to the smaller size of the apartment, you and Katara share a bedroom but neither of you would have it any other way. Though you both have your own corner of the room, you’ll spend hours laying on the gray shag rug in the middle between your beds just talking.

“Today, at the diner, a man had the AUDACITY to call me ‘pretty girl’ and like, yes I am pretty but I don’t need an old coffee-breathed, wrinkly limp noodle to tell me that so I assumed he was just stating the obvious and that I should also call him by obvious nicknames in order to better communicate with and understand the customer, as my manager puts it.”

“And what did you call him?”

“When I came back with their food, he said, ‘Can the pretty girl also get us some mayonnaise packets?’ And I said, ‘Not a problem, ‘crusty man.’”

Katara tried her darnedest to flash you a severe look but couldn’t help choking on a fit of giggles.

“Suki approves of it and we spent the rest of our shift calling each other different names when we crossed paths!”

The rest of the night would linger on with more work day stories, giggles, and Sokka occasionally pounding on the door for you both to shut up already because he is trying to sleep goddamnnit and can’t do that while the apartment is filled with your shrill girlish squeals.

Finally, when you both struggle to fight off sleep, you wave the white flag and drag yourself into bed. But just before you drift off, you hear Katara whisper your name from across the room. You’re not even sure if she’s awake, you’re both so tired, but you answer anyways.

“Hmm?”

“What do you think of Aang?”

“He adores you (yawn) it’s so sweet. I like him for you.”

There’s a silence and you think you’re free to finally fall into your dreams until Katara speaks again.

“What do you think of Zuko?”

“Hmm? I dunno, he’s our (yawn) friend and I like when he brings over (yawn) fireball for game night (yawn) why?”

Your exhaustion overpowers you before you could hear Katara respond, “Because he adores you, it’s so sweet. I like him for you.”

Although also your best friend, living with Sokka feels much less sweet and much more chaotic. Somehow you’re at each other’s throats more so than he is with his own blood related sister. It may have started when the Sock Battle started, a game in which Sokka made it his mission to hide his stenchiest pair of socks somewhere in your stuff. By now, you’ve found his socks in your pillowcases, in textbooks, in your gym bag, and in a picture frame next to your bed. You deliberately retaliate in any way you can during game night. While these instances often have you second guessing your friendship with him, you and Sokka could both put the bickering aside with a Disney movie and a bucket of buttered popcorn.

You could have killed him though when he gave you the flu. Katara was spared thanks to her daily regimen of vitamins and obsession with cleanliness, and Sokka had even recovered rather quickly. But you were not as lucky. Even though it was only the beginning of October, you had Katara dig out your flannel holiday pajamas to warm you up from the chills. The darling that she is, Katara made you her famous homemade soup and set it by your bedside table before heading out to see Aang. In the meantime, it was time for payback.

“Sokka, I need you to refill my water bottle.”

“Do it yourself.”

“Fine and when I get over to the kitchen I’ll lick every bag of beef jerky you own.”

“Oh my god, fine. Give me your water bottle.”

“Sokka, I need to charge my phone. Give me your charger.”

“No? Yours in your room, go get it.”

“If only my legs weren’t so weak from this terrible flu I’ve contracted from someone I trusted to be more hygienic.”

“Here, take it.”

“Sokka, you need to light a candle in the bathroom. Ooh do the rose petal one.”

“Ugh, no. You know I hate yours and Katara’s girly scented candles.”

“Okay, but then don’t complain about the smell when you go in.”

“It can’t be that bad— OH MY GOD DID SOMETHING CRAWL OUT OF YOU AND DIE?! OH MY GOD IT’S TRAVELLING. IT’S TRAVELLING THROUGH THE APARTMENT.”

By the fourth day of having the flu, Sokka was sick. Not of the flu. Of you. Katara had been spending as much time with Aang as she could to avoid catching anything from you so the responsibility of taking care of you fell on Sokka. And he was finally reaching the breaking point after you left used tissues all over “his side” of the couch. You snuggled into your pile of blankets as you watched your best friend grumble about the living room, every so often glancing at you while muttering incoherently.

After picking up the last of your snot filled, flu infected tissues, Sokka stood in front of you and took a long, exaggerated breath.

“I am leaving this Land of Disgusting to eat at the diner before driving Suki home.”

“Sokka, you had me at ‘I am leaving.’”

“Shut up. You still have a fever so I’ve called in reinforcements to look after you while Katara and I are both out. They’ll be here shortly after I’m gone. Can you handle yourself for 10 minutes?”

“Aye aye, captain.”

Before leaving, Sokka grabbed one more blanket from your room to bring to you on the couch. You realize how lucky you are to be such a pain in the ass and still be so loved by your little family. These happy thoughts, along with the utter amusement over the possibility of Toph being the one taking care of you, lulled you into a short, soft nap.

When you open your eyes next, the living room is dark, save for the small lamp in the corner of the room. As you go to stretch out your legs on the couch, your feet kick into something that wasn’t there before.

“Sokka?” you ask wearily, assuming your friend is back from dropping Suki off home.

“Nope.”

It wasn’t Sokka’s voice. Nor was it Toph’s. Trying your best to sit up under the weight of five blankets, you turn your head to see Zuko’s face illuminated by his phone’s screen as his thumb continued to scroll.

“Oh. Hi.”

He looked over at you. “Hey. Can I get you anything?”

It takes you a moment to get over the fact that Zuko is the reinforcements, the one called to take care of you while your roommates are out of the apartment. But finally you respond, “Actually, my throat is really dry. Can you grab my water bottle for me?”

He reached over to the coffee table to grab your water bottle for you. Then, after handing it you, Zuko went back to looking at his phone.

“Katara says you have to take your medicine once you’ve woken up.”

“Ugh noooooo. I don’t want to.”

Taking pills has never been your been your strong suit. Maybe it’s your irrational fear of choking on them or just your innate ability to be stubborn about everything but you try to put up your best fight.

“You have to. Or else we’ll have to cancel another game night or you just won’t be able to play with us. And then who would kill Sokka first in Among Us.”

“You’ll have to continue my legacy, that’s all.”

“Just take the pills. I already cut them up for you.”

“Fine... thank you.”

After you swallow the last pill, you lay back down on the couch but Zuko gets up.

“Where are you going?”

“Since you’re up now, let’s watch a movie. There’s nothing else you should really be doing in your condition.”

“I have my DVDs on my shelf in my room. Pick me a Disney movie?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Oh my god, please? I am very sick and frail and only the nostalgic joys of my childhood can cure me.”

“....fine.”

You muster up a squeal that quickly turns into a cough as Zuko leaves the room. After a few minutes he comes back with Toy Story 2, a choice that makes you raise an eyebrow considering its heartbreaking song is not something you’d expect Zuko to want to watch. Nonetheless, you hardly protest as the two of you settle in on the couch for the movie to begin.

To your surprise, the animated movie managed to steal a couple chuckles from Zuko. After all the bickering throughout the week with Sokka, it was a welcome and pleasant sound ringing in your ears. Despite your better judgment, you shift closer to him, especially when you know Jessie’s big song is getting closer. He doesn’t move away though and even wraps an arm around you. When a chill runs down your spine, you wonder if it’s due to the fever.

“Are you crying?”

“It’s just SO sad, how could you not, Zuko?! Somebody needs to LOVE HER AGAIN.”

Grinning, he hands you the tissue box, which you fully accept both for your tears and flu-inflicted runny nose. But once the song ends and you’ve let out a good cry, your eyelids start to feel enormously heavy. Zuko must sense this because he scoots a bit closer to you, allowing you to rest your head on his shoulder. You hesitate for a moment, not wanting to pass the flu onto Zuko, but for some reason he feels warmer than the mountains of blankets you’re buried under.

The rest of the movie plays on and you struggle to keep your eyes open, often shifting against Zuko to wake yourself back up. You know there’s more to the movie but Zuko picks up the remote and turns off the tv. Before you could even question what he’s doing, he’s lifting you up and walking you to your room.

“But we didn’t see the end of the movie!”

“You weren’t going to stay up to see the end anyways.”

“But you needed to see Jessie and Bullseye find new homes! With Andy! And Wheezy!! Wheezy gets fixed!!”

He helped you under the covers and sat beside you on your bed for a moment. You still feel enough energy to offer up a few more protests.

“Only the end of the movie can cure me with its pure, unadultered childhood joy! You can use some, too! Disney fixes all things!”

He scoffed and rolled his eyes, but before getting up, Zuko leaned in to kiss your forehead lightly.

“Go to bed, you idiot.”

You didn’t even register when he left your side because you were asleep again within minutes. In fact, when the sunlight from the bedroom window wakes you up hours later, you could have sworn it was all just a fever dream anyways. Disney movies cuddled up with Zuko? Definitely sounds fake. However, later on in the morning, you do begin to suspect it was all real when you find your Toy Story 2 DVD still in DVD player and catching Katara and Sokka trying to discreetly give each other a high five.

[mochees]

"𝗶 𝗹𝗼𝘃𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗜𝗜"

-> headcanons, how they tell you they love you for the first time, part two!

characters: sakusa, iwaizumi, x fem!reader

warnings: fem reader, ✨healthy relationships✨, oikawa being oikawa

wc: 3.6K

a/n: WOAH okay uh did NOT expect that last set to be that popular,,,, y'all thirsty for love huh? me too anyway i thought id do a part two since i honestly really enjoyed writing the first set and my brain is vibrating with ✨thoughts✨ and seeing how much love it got really made me feel how i haven't felt in so long, so thank you! maybe ill turn this into a series so lemme know if u wanna see someone specific👀👀😏 also sorry for like posting and then dipping again lmao thats just my social media brand i have the attention span of a fucking worm

read part 1 here!

Sakusa Kiyoomi

okok i know its like common for sakusa to be shown as not interested in PDA (in private or public) unless hes feeling "needy"

BUT i believe that after a few weeks, maybe months if he's still unsure, he would definitely be much more comfortable with PDA

like, if its been a long time and your both serious about it and not just in a relationship to be in a relationship he starts to notice your routine

he notices the changes you make so that he's comfortable and so that you can be close to him without him being worried about icky yicky germy wormys (someone take away my thought privileges)

so now that he knows that you take care of your hygiene and exactly what you do for it, slowly he's wrapping an arm around you in 30° heat while you're both sweating

slowly he's "forgetting" his mask in the car for dates

slowly, but surely, he understands that a little bit of exposure, isn't a bad thing.

"kiyoomi?" your voice brought sakusa's eyes to yours where he could see the concern behind them.

"are you okay y/n?"

you'd decided, after three weeks of intense training and barely seeing your boyfriend, that you wanted just one day and one night with him. just the two of you, you know he'd never admit it, but he needed a break.

after atsumu decided to try out some new plays that didn't start off to well, sakusa had been silently groaning everytime he had to reach for something. he was excellent at making sure he wasn't overworking himself, and he wasn't, its just that the human body is an absolute wonder, and not in a good way. sometimes things that should have mildly injured you, left you with a tiny scrape, or a bruise or a very quick-to-fade red mark, and sometimes you drop a phone on your face and break your fucking jaw.

you offer him a gentle smile that completely washes away the concern in your eyes.

"im fine omi! but you," you reach your hands up to rest on both sides of his face turning his head side to side, studying it intensly.

"you're looking a little pale. and possibly grey."

"how do you mean y/n-chan?"

for such an intelligent man sometimes he really could be a himbo.

"i mean that i think you might be sick, baby."

sakusa stared blankly at you, as if he couldn't fathom the possibility of 'himself, sick?'

"omi? kiyoomi!" you nabbed his attention, "i think you're sick, and we best go home."

"but-" he started, but you were quick to cut him off knowing exactly what he was about to say.

"kiyoomi, it's inevitable. even if you were the worlds most decked out with ppe, and the worlds leading force in hygeine, you'd still end up catching a cold at least once. that's just how the world works baby. and don't worry about the date, all i want is to spend some time with you."

you ended up practically dragging your sad little puppy of a boyfriend back up the complex stairs and into his unit before settling him on the couch and getting to work.

"ill get you some water, you just sit here and relax. i don't want to think about what would happen if those dumbasses didnt have you there next week, bokuto and hinata would probably crack their skulls!" your attempt at a little light hearted humour helped sakusa forget for a moment, but he was quick to go back to not understanding how he was sick.

"thank you." he took the glass from your hand and rested it between his legs, when he noticed the rubber gloves you had clutched at your side. he knew what they were for, those were his cleaning gloves.

"what are you doing? you can't stay you'll..." he paused. "you'll get sick too."

"i'll be fine omi-omi! you just relax and drink lots of water, ill take care of this." you turned towards the wall with a soft smile before muttering, "ill take care of you."

sakusa watched you clean, the bucket full of diluted bleach, the duster, a cloth, and his cleaning gloves. he loved the way that they were too big for you, the way you kept having to pull them up every so often to keep them on. he loved the way that everytime he finished his glass of water, you were right there to fill it back up.

you don't even remember seeing, or hearing him lift himself from his spot on the couch and make his way over to where you were humming and covering the counters in the diluted solution. you felt a pair of big arms wrap around you, a chin on your shoulder and a kiss on your cheek.

"thank you, y/n. i love you."

thank god he caught a cold, or he might never have realized just how lucky he was.

Iwaizumi Hajime

family man

is a family man but not just ANY family man

yes, it's important to him that you like and respect his parents and vice versa

but its just slightly more important to him that you get along with his friends, his found family because im a SUCKER for the classic lilo n stitch trope

he knows that many people say that its his life and he doesn't need anyones approval etc.

but iwaizumi believes different, he believes that he doesn't need approval in the literal sense but rather approval through watching you interact with his friends and his family and how you do your best to learn about them and make time for them, even though you dont have to

and he thinks it's absolutely enthralling

the way your eyes light up when you see that book his mom has been talking about wanting to read and picking it up with no hesitation

how you're able to almost flawlessly keep up with issei and takahiro's antics while also making sure they don't go too far, something even iwaizumi struggles with

and most importantly, how effortlessly you connect with his childhood best friend.

there were many things that Iwaizumi Hajime enjoyed, volleyball, athletics, godzilla of course, spending time with three dumbasses (but he’ll never admit that) and a little while ago, he added you to that list.

you were so effortlessly able to connect with his team, his friends, and his family but most importantly, the way you were able to connect with Oikawa brought a smile to his face.

“oh, iwa-chan~, what are you admiring?” there he went again, Iwa thought, Tohru Oikawa’s dumb smirk and hyper awareness of his team, both on and off court. how he wated to head-butt him in the face. but, he showed restraint. after all, he wouldn’t want loserkawa to use you as a human shield from his head. so, he ignored the urge. but it passed as soon as he saw tohrus arm arond your shoulders, crossed feet and leaning on you ever so slightly while he took a few occasional swigs from his water.

and just like that, the incredible restraint vanished like morning mist.

you could practically see the steam coming off of his hot skin, and the vein popping out of his forehead, when you noticed what had him so heated. “trashykawa get your filthy hands off of my girlfriend!”

“excuse me!” he pouted, “my hands are clean and tailored! just like any responsible setters would be!” he stuck his lip out farther and gave you his irresistable puppy-dog eyes. “y/n-chan, i’m not filthy! am i?” he whined.

and, as the word suggests, his look was truly irresistable and you stumbled over your words. “n-no! of course not tohru!”

“see, iwa-chan! y-n thinks i’m squeaky clean!” his dumb smirk appeared again, and rather than continue with flirtykawas obvious games, Iwa opted for the less violen approach.

“don’t flatter yourself, dirtykawa. she’s just being nice.” he growled. “I’m done for the day, i have a project due. y-n.” he offered his hand to you like the gentleman he is not forcing you to take it, but the look in his eyes told you that he wanted you too.

“see you later, tohru!” you gave him a quick hug and intertwined your fingers with iwa’s.

now, technically, girls aren’t allowed in the boys locker room but since it’s after hours and just you and iwaizumi no one cared. to be fair though, literally no one knew except the team so, whatever you didn’t complain you got to watch yout ultra ripped boyfriend change. quality time. you thought, when you noticed him mid-change with his shirt over his head, resting on his arms. as any good girlfriend would, despite the devil on your shoulder, you came up behind him placing your hands on his seriously broad shoulders. taking notice of the tension, you started to work at the muscles. your care was quickly rewarded with a quiet sigh, and relaxed shoulders.

“hajime?” you continued rubbing at the tight fibers, “are you alright? you’re usually the one telling me im holding too much tension.” you giggled and he turned to face you placing one hand against the side of your face.

“hajime?” it came out shaky and worried.

“i’m okay,” he smiled “it’s just,” hesitation. he was never one to hesitate.

“i know i have no right to be but seeing oikawa so clingy with you it just, i dont know, it really gets to me i guess? he, just, he gets all the girls, all the attention, and i don’t want to-” you stopped him.

“sweetheart, it’s okay to be jealous or upset i’m not going to be angry, you have a right to your feelings. I understand how you feel, i never mean to flirt with him, if i ever have, i mean i don’t know, you know how bad of a flirt i am,” he chuckles at that. “it’s just that i know how important he is to you and you are so, so important to me and i want to be able to understand whats important to you, so you never have to choose between us, because that wouldn’t be fair. i love you, hajime iwaizumi, and everything about you.”

you expected him to be shocked, hell, he thought he would be shocked when or if you said it, but he wasn’t. and that’s exactly how he knew what to say next.

“i love you too, y/n l/n.” pressing a soft kiss against your lips.

“geez, it only took you two a century and forever.” someone snarked.

hajime chucked a towel at him “get out assykawa!” and he did, he bolted through the door laughing like the demon matchmaker he thought he was.

© sacchanwrites, 2021

do not repost, copy, or claim.

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