#for taglist:

[yueebby]

𝐬𝐚𝐲 𝐲𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 – 𝐠𝐨𝐣𝐨 𝐬𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮

♰ pairing. gojo satoru x fem!reader

♰ synopsis. period piece, forbidden love

♰ contents. ooc, angst (eventual comfort), yandere emperor!gojo, lovesick!gojo, servant!reader, obsessive behavior, misogyny, violence, dark content (probably) … +

MAIN STORY

PROLOGUE.

CHAPTER I

CHAPTER II

CHAPTER III

EPILOGUE

SIDE STORIES [coming soon!]

bewitched body and soul

mine, all mine!

banished

...

taglist ⋆｡𖦹

@wr4inn @sukioyakio @lilithwhor @siopaoxcc @thejujvtsupost @bakananya @catobsessedlady @fiannee @sleepycow21 @kirashuu @deluludyslexic @isaacdaknight @bathroom-sand @arehzhera @lostinneocity @victoria1676 @uziwork @alexatiu @taenosaurrr @wonwootakemyheart @strxkbylightning @sukunasleftkneecap @toecurlingstories @yandere-stories @dreamsarenicer @wwxcockdestroyer @hiyaitssans @getoicious @docosahexaenoic-san @goldenglow149 @amiorcani @step-on-me-melissa @erensswife1 @roses-and-reeses @ssc7514 @hyunsuks-beanie @crankyarchives @wooasecret @theiridescentdragon @mshitachin @kieralive @cake-with-the-cream @miffysoo @msvalsius @drthymby @sherryuki-callmeyuki @anonymous-creep @altgojo @aesukuni @sadmonke

[sexlapis]

[◉°] … TOJI FUSHIGURO TAKES A LIE DETECTOR TEST… 9.6M VIEWS

꩜ actor!toji (& implied actor toji x actress/actor reader)

⤷ synopsis: toji thought this lie detector test was going to be a breeze. he was a little mistaken.

sfw, fluff, crack, ooc toji, toji & reader are secretly together, toji lying!

masterlists

actor!toji masterlist

⪩　 　  ₊　    🍪 　 　✧ 　 　⁺

“i ain’t nervous,” toji claims, cracking his neck and smirking as the crew members attach the needed equipment to his body, “i ain’t no liar either. so i got nothing to worry about here.”

“i sure hope that’s true, mr.fushiguro.” the polygraph examiner replies slyly.

“are you ready, toji fushiguro?” the interviewer asks.

“yeah, i am,” toji claps, “hurry up and get started.”

“is your name toji fushiguro?”

“yes my name is toji fushiguro.” he looks to the polygraph examiner. “it is, right?”

the woman simply stares at him.

“..alright then…”

the interviews asks another question. “are you about to take a polygraph exam?”

“yes, yes and yes, now give me the real questions!”

TOJI FUSHIGURO TELLS THE TRUTH

YOUR CAREER

“we’re going to start with the category of your career.”

toji nods and looks to the examiner. “how ‘m i doing?”

“you’re very calm, nothing unusual yet.”

“hm.”

the interview begins to speak. “one of your most popular roles as an actor was when you played Frank Castle in the Netflix series, “The Punisher”. some would say this is when you became a heartthrob. do you think is this true?”

toji sighs and shakes his head. “nah-”

“LIE.” the polygraph examiner calls out.

toji raises his hand. “…because, i was already a heartthrob before alla that.” he smiles, looking proud of himself. his answer is met with silence.

“ok.” says the interviewer and goes onto the next question. “do you face a lot of pressure being a heartthrob?”

“nope.” toji answers easily. “i’m just that kinda guy. i ain’t gotta try too hard for much, especially not ‘being hot’.”

he looks at the examiner.

“he’s telling the truth.” she states. she almost seems disappointed by the fact.

“see?” toji says, folding his arms, “as i said, ‘got nothin’ to lie about.”

“in the punisher,” the interviewer starts, ignoring toji’s cocky replies, “do you wear a muscle suit to look bigger than you actually are?”

toji throws his back, cackles echoing around the small room. “fuck no!” he gestures to…his whole body, “‘it look like i need a muscle suit? ‘didn’t even know that shit was a thing… i’m big enough without any of that stuff.” he shrugs, looking into the camera. “i think we can all see that.”

the examiner nods curtly. “..he is telling the truth.”

“do you workout often?” asks the interviewer.

toji scoffs. “i thought i’d get good questions..but yeah, yeah i do workout.”

“would you consider yourself fit?”

“yep. ‘hundred percent.”

“would you consider yourself fitter than,” the interviewer slides a photo of the actor gojo satoru towards toji, “this man?”

“pfft-” toji chortles. “oh, ohh yeah. easily. he’s like..” he looks for the correct words, “a little boy. are we kidding?”

he looks to the examiner and then to the interviewer.

“he is being truthful..again.”

toji smirks at the camera, tapping the side of his nose with his finger. “toji never lies.”

POP CULTURE

“this year, you were named “The Most Sexiest Man Alive” by People Magazine. do you believe you’re sexier than this man, 2022’s sexiest man, nanami kento?” the interviewer slides another photo, this time of the actor nanami kento.

toji looks at the photo for a second, before scoffing a little. “oh yeah. definitely. ‘guy just has a permanent frown on his face. he ain’t ugly but he could smile a little, y’know?”

“what about this ‘guy’, 2021’s most sexiest man alive, ryomen sukuna?” the interviewer also slides a picture of him to toji.

toji strokes his chin. “heh..yeah..yeah i would say so..this guy..he ain’t ugly either but..theres this energy about him..”

“what energy would that be, toji fushiguro?”

“the energy of a fuckin’ mass murderer that’s what!” he laughs at his own joke, looking at the picture of this ‘ryomen sukuna’, who is glaring into his soul through the image. “yeahh, i’d say i’m more attractive than him. just.. just a little.” he holds two fingers close together emphasis. “jesus christ, that’s one scary looking fuck.”

the examiner inspects the polygraph and looks towards toji and the interviewer. “he has been telling the truth.”

“yeah.” toji nods, exhaling through his mouth and sliding the pictures away from himself. “‘course i am.”

LOVE LIFE

toji had been doing well so far, but the category of ‘love life’ would be his downfall.

“do you want to get married in the future?”

“yeah, yeah i do.”

the examiner nods.

“have you ever been in love?”

“..yes.” toji responds, thinking about his past for a second.

the examiner nods again.

“are you in love right now?”

toji pauses for the first time in the whole test. he takes a deep breath. “no. yeah, no. ‘m not.”

the examiner raises an eyebrow at the results. “questionable.”

“oh, c’mon.” toji groans, rolling his eyes.

“is there someone you’re in love with?”

“nope. nobody at all.” he interlinks his fingers, tapping them against each other. “..nobody at all..”

“questionable. again.” the examiner states, pointedly looking at toji.

toji sighs. “oh, brother…”

“did you happen to meet this person..on set?”

“no, ‘cause there is no person?” toji says firmly.

“again.” the examiner says. “questionable.”

“christ…”

the interviewer asks another question. “do you believe in love at first sight?”

toji huffs. “no, that’s just two people who wanna fuck.”

“i see. then,” the interviewer takes out three pictures, all of them being people who he has worked with on set, including you.

“are you in love with any of these people?”

toji gulps, hesitating for a split second, his eyes focused on your picture. “nope. not oneeee bit.”

“LIE.” the examiner shouts excitedly, happy to have finally caught toji out on lying. she rings the negative buzzer repeatedly. “lie!”

“‘you serious?” he asks incredulously, looking between the interviewer and the examiner. “listen, maybe it was just my heart murmur or somethin’ like that,” he looks to side, cheeks rosy and shifts in his seat a little, “i-i don’t-”

“those are the last of our questions.” the interviewer says to toji, smiling knowingly. “thank you for taking part in our lie detector test.”

toji grumbles.

౨ৎ

tag list: @tiredslepz | @hayatslife | @shxyxyxxxx | @snowprincesa1 | @laylasbunbunny | @mimiemie | @ncentic | @rosesored | @imover-18 | @gintokhi | @suzuperstarr | @lostgxrlblog | @jallie10 | @nnsav | @bunnyx-sakura | @bubbabobabubbles | @ladytamayolover | @keiva1000

a/n: this was longer than i planned 🤥

[henwilsons]

this goes beyond friendship, and i love you to the core.

[samaraxmorgan]

Your Roommate Sukuna

“That Time We Went To The County Fair”

Modern no curse AU, Sukuna X Reader

Synopsis: This housing crisis sure is no joke huh? Rent is just too expensive to live alone, so you put out a listing for a roommate and ended up living with none other than the tattooed bad boy Ryomen Sukuna! This is part of a series of drabbles and oneshots showing glimpses into you and Sukuna’s living situation!!

Contains: pure fluff, frenemies dynamic, emetophobics be cautious (no one actually gets sick it’s just mentioned), Sukuna is trying so hard to be nice

Word Count: 2.89k

Series Masterlist - My Full Masterlist

Sukuna always tries to give off the vibe that he’s too big and bad for anything. Everything is beneath him, everyone is merely a nuisance, and this Ferris wheel in particular is just too bland and boring for his tastes.

He acts like you held a gun to his head and forced him to come with you to the fair, but you really didn’t; if anything he forced you to let him tag along. You just happened to see a flyer in the mailbox and brought up that you were planning to go and he could tag along if he wanted to, the last thing you expected was for him to immediately start lacing up his boots and stuff his wallet into the pocket of his ripped black jeans, asking you a nonchalant “You ready?” not even a minute after you suggested it.

And now here you are, a decent train ride later and you’re at the top of the Ferris wheel sitting across from each other, looking down at the colorful lights of food stalls and amusement rides below you. You wanted to go on the Ferris wheel first since the sun is beginning to set, the sky turning shades of pink and orange as a gentle breeze chills the evening air.

Sukuna’s gruff and uninterested voice breaks the peaceful silence, “You could’ve looked out the window at home for free.”

You’re scooted to the edge of your little cart, elbows perched on the rusty metal railing and your cheek rested on your palm, looking longingly between the colorful lights of the roller coasters down below and the changing hues of the sky, “The view’s not this pretty at home.”

All he can respond with is a hum, his arms stretched out across the railing behind him as he leans his back against the hard metal wall of the gently swinging cart. From the corner of your eye you’d swear you could see him watching you, but when you shift your gaze towards him his head has already turned to look down towards the carnival beneath you.

He outstretches his arm and points toward one of the rides, colorful lights spotted around the outside of its spaceship style design begin to transform into streams of light as the ride starts to spin and twirl around, “We’re doing that one next, too fuckin’ boring just sitting around.”

You turn your body towards him and give him a sarcastic grin, “What if all the spinning makes me sick?”

He scoffs, gently kicking your leg across from him with his combat boot, “If you throw up I’m pretending that I don’t know you.”

“Boo.” You roll your eyes at him and look back towards the fair as the Ferris wheel begins to spin. You reach your arm out of the cart and point at a ride in the distance, a large boat shaped contraption swinging back and forth before turning completely upside down, the passengers' screams echoing through the open air, “Would you go on that one?”

He gives you a sly grin, “Only if you go on it too, you didn't drag me along just to watch, did you?”

“I didn’t drag you here, you might as well have begged to come with me.”

“Oh fuckin’ please,” He leans towards you, propping his elbows on his knees and looking up at you, “You gave me those ‘lil puppy dog eyes when you showed me the flyer.” He mimics a dramatic pout, making you groan and press your sneaker onto his chest to push him away.

“You’re unbearable.”

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

The metal steps creak below both of your feet as you and Sukuna step into the spaceship ride; the walls are round and covered in separate metal panels for each person to stand with their back against, and in the middle of the ride there’s a booth for the operator with large buttons and levers. You and Sukuna find two open panels on the wall and stand in front of them as the doors to the ride slide shut, leaving you both and everyone else blocked off from the festivities going on outside.

The operator looks bored as they flip a switch above their head, the lights dying off before you hear the clicking sound of buttons being pushed, rainbow lights streaming along the ceiling in swirling patterns above your head. Blaring loud techno music starts to blast from massive speakers in the operator’s booth as you feel your balance start to waver. Within seconds everyone’s backs are slammed into the wall, fits of giggles and startled screams surrounding you in the ride.

You turn your head to look at Sukuna and he’s already grinning at you, he tries to yell something to you but the music is far too loud to hear him. You open your mouth to yell “What?!” but instead a yelp is ripped from your chest as your entire body slides up the wall. He points up towards you and laughs, you try to kick him in the shoulder but the pressure of the ride spinning is keeping you effectively plastered to the wall, hardly able to move at all.

Sukuna, on the other hand, is somehow barely affected by it; deciding that it’s time to show off as he plants his palms onto the wall behind him and bends his knees to be completely off the ground. He stumbles back slightly on his first attempt to push himself up, but by the second try he’s crouching completely upright on the wall.

“What the hell are you doing?!” You scream out to him, but he can hardly hear you over the loud music and playful screams of everyone on the ride.

He’s got a massive grin plastered on his face as he stands to his full height so casually, as if the pressure of gravity just doesn’t affect him, taking a broad step over your stiff body to stand with his large combat boots on either side of your hips. He takes a knee over you, wrapping one of his hands around the back of your neck and the other behind the small of your back, leaning forward and yelling into your ear.

“You’re coming with me.”

It feels like you’re going to fly back into the wall as he pulls you into his arms, his strong grip keeping your body flush against his as you try to raise your arms enough to wrap them around his neck.

“You’re insane! Put me down!”

You can feel his breathy laughter on the crook of your neck as he lifts you up to stand with him on the wall, his hands never loosening their protective grip on you even as your feet plant themselves on the wall. He’s holding you so close, you’re not sure if your head is spinning more from him or the carnival ride. Your arms are wrapped tightly around his neck, your head pressed flush against his broad chest and tilted up towards the flickering lights adorning the ceiling.

“Not so bad, see?” You can hear the grin in his voice, his lips brushing against your ear while he speaks to you, “Not gonna drop you, calm down.”

Can he feel how fast my heart is beating?

The pressure in your head starts to feel relieved, but at the cost of your balance as you stumble forward. Sukuna completely wraps his arm around your waist and lifts you off your feet, taking long strides backwards off the wall and back onto the floor as the ride slows to a gradual stop.

“Hey!” The operator is screaming over the music as the large doors slide back open, “You two! Off!”

Sukuna chuckles into your ear as he drops you onto your feet, “Oops.”

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

“I can’t take you anywhere-“

“Ugh, how was I supposed to know that guy would be such a pussy?”

“Sukuna!” You slap his arm, “You’re gonna get us kicked out!”

He just huffs and rolls his eyes, his arms crossed over his chest as you both walk side by side through the fair. You knew he was nothing but trouble, and you feel a little stupid for assuming he wouldn’t drag you down into his bullshit with him, but you’re stuck with him now; at least until your lease is up. Maybe you shouldn’t invite him out with you anywhere after this, but when you glance up at his stupid grumpy expression you get butterflies.

With a face like that it’s no wonder he gets away with anything.

He’s so… annoying. That’s what you like to tell yourself; it’s annoying that you can’t stay mad at him, that he gives you that smirk that makes your heart race, that he held you like that on the carnival ride. He drives you insane in all the best and worst ways, either waking you up in the middle of the night by being loud and obnoxious coming home drunk from a concert, or making you go crazy wishing he was home with you while he was out with his friends.

“Are you even fuckin’ listening?” He snaps you out of your trance.

“No.” You huff, breaking your gaze from his. Did you doze off while staring at him?

“Brat,” He wraps his fingers around your wrist and pulls you towards a pop up stall, the stall walls lined with balloons and stuffed animals, “You beat me in this and I’ll… behave for the next one.”

You scoff at him, “No you won’t.”

A small smile creeps onto the corners of his lips, “… Yeah you’re right.” You roll your eyes and turn away from him, but he sidesteps in front of you, leaning down to match your height, “Tell you what, let’s make a bet.”

“That’s a terrible idea.”

He smirks, “Winner picks out a tattoo for the loser.”

You laugh right in his face, “Absolutely fucking not!”

“What?” He gives you an exaggerated pout, “You don’t trust me?”

You cross your arms and glare up at him, “You would make me get some kind of gang tattoo.” You say sarcastically.

He mutters under his breath, “Shit, am I that predictable?”

“Sukuna!” You kick him in the shin.

“Fine, fine. Piercing.”

You look over at the plastic machine guns mounted onto the edge of the stall, noting a toppled over “out of order” sign next to the red gun. Maybe it’s a bad idea to humor him, but you know damn well he’d pick that red gun over the baby pink ones surrounding it, you might be able to play dirty if he hasn’t noticed the sign that fell over.

A grin paints your lips as you look back at him, “You’re on.”

His head cocks to the side slightly, “Really?” He looks genuinely surprised, but definitely not disappointed, “Shit, that was easy.”

He strides over to the stall, planting himself right in front of the red gun, exactly where you want him. You suppress your smile as much as you can as you walk up beside him, wrapping your finger around the trigger of the pink gun next to him. He’s looking down at you so cocky as the game attendant counts down for you both to start.

“Three!”

“You know…” He leans down towards you to speak into your ear.

“Two!”

“I know a guy who does eyelid piercings.” He states smugly.

“One!”

Like clockwork, you start peppering through the balloons while his gun immediately jams.

His brows furrow in frustration and you look towards him, giving him a mischievous smirk, “You’ll have to give me his number.”

As the game comes to a fast end, you learn that Sukuna is such a sore loser, grumbling about how that was “fucking rigged” and that you’re “a dirty little cheater,” but you couldn’t wipe the smile off your face if you tried. You doubt he’ll hold up his end of the bet, and you’re not really that concerned about it to be honest, that frustrated look on his face is more than enough of a prize.

“Yeah yeah,” You giggle, “I’m just the worst huh? I’m gonna run to the bathroom, how about you win me something while I’m gone?”

He shoots a glare down at you, “No promises.”

“Oh yeah, because you fucking suck at these games, right?” Your bottom lip is caught between your teeth in a futile attempt to keep a straight face, you just can’t help but smile, it’s a nice change of pace for you to be the one getting on his nerves for once.

“Such a fuckin’ brat.”

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

Something about Sukuna is suspicious when you meet him back at the games. His grin has returned once again and he’s holding one of his hands behind his back. His eyes light up when they catch yours, taking long strides to meet with you.

He leans down to be eye level with you, keeping his hand tucked away behind him, “Close your eyes.”

“You didn’t…” You look up to his eyes but his gaze flickers away from you.

“Shut up. Close your eyes and give me your hand.”

You let out a sigh, shutting your eyes and holding your hand out in front of you. Your brows furrow in confusion as something cold and squishy lands in your palm, “What the fuck…?”

“You know how you said you wanted a pet?”

You open your eyes and are greeted with… a goldfish. A little tied off plastic baggie dripping condensation onto your skin as the tiny fish swims in panicked circles, “Sukuna!”

“What?” He stands up straight, stuffing his hands into his pockets, “I thought you’d like it.”

“When I said I wanted a pet I meant, like, a dog!”

He nonchalantly shrugs his shoulders, “Well you won’t let me get a cane corso, so-“

“Because they’re a hundred and fifty pounds.” You mutter over him.

“Say hello to Brat Junior.”

“Oh you’ve got to be kidding me.”

He’s definitely not kidding if the grin on his face is saying anything, he takes a step forward and pokes the bag, watching the fish squirm inside, “He’s got your attitude.”

“Oh my god,” You rub your temple with your free hand, “We need to go get a fish tank.”

“We’ve got bowls at the house.”

“No! We are not mistreating this fish, asshole.”

“Don’t call him fish, he has a name.” He declares sarcastically, crossing his arms over his chest.

You mutter curses under your breath, “Brat Junior needs a tank. A real tank, with a filter.” You pull Sukuna by the sleeve of his shirt, dragging him along behind you, “There’s a pet store around the corner, let’s go before they close. And you’re paying.”

“Hey, why am I paying for this shit? It’s your pet.”

“It was your stupid idea!”

You both leave the loud chaos of the fair, walking along the quiet sidewalks to the pet store. The skies have gone dark now, the moon making itself at home above you as you cradle your beloved Brat Junior in both of your palms, trying to keep the water in his bag from swaying too much.

You and Sukuna bicker the whole walk there until you make it to the sliding glass doors of the pet store, quiet music playing through the speakers as you walk across the shiny white floors to the fish section. You both split up so he can pick up a tank while you sort through food, but shortly after he walked away he’s already making his way back to you.

“We’re gonna have to flush Brat Junior.” He says plainly.

You defensively clutch the fish close to your chest, “Absolutely not!”

He rests his elbow on one of the shelves lining the wall, leaning his side against it, “Then you’re paying for half of the fish tank.”

Your brows furrow in confusion, “You broke now?”

“Lady at the counter said he’ll get,” He straightens his fingers on each hand, placing them together like a prayer before parting them about a foot away from each other, “This big.”

“Are you fucking serious?”

“I wish I was joking, the tank is $600.”

You blow a raspberry, slumping your back against the wall and looking down at the goldfish in your palms. You’re silent for a moment, but then you let out a reluctant sigh, “I’ll pay half, but you’re carrying it on the train ride home.”

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

You hold your apartment door open, watching Sukuna maneuver the giant 40 gallon fish tank through the small doorway, “Got it?”

He grunts in annoyance, “A little help would be nice.”

“Ooh, about that,” You hold the little plastic baggie up in your palm, “My hands are full with the baby.”

He blows his bangs out of his eyes, carrying the fish tank into the tiny apartment, “Should’ve fuckin’ flushed him.”

You let out a mock gasp, cupping the goldfish in both of your hands and holding it up to your face, cooing at it, “Did you hear that? Your father doesn’t love you.”

Sukuna placed the tank onto a long empty table against the wall before flopping on his back onto the couch. His eyes flicker between you and the fish for a moment, a faint smile creeping onto his lips.

“I knew you’d like that little fucker.”

A/N: Fun fact did u know that those fair fish grow to be 12 inches long? Unfortunately this fic is based on true events of when my boyfriend and I won TWO OF THEM at the fair and had to spend $600 on a fish tank for them (rip my wallet). Dividers by @adornedwithlight

Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist!!

[miryum]

☆ 18+ minors dni ☆

Warnings: changes tenses like, two times, cause Jason is obvi still in love with you, so it would be weird if some things were in the past tense and such. Just go along with it

Virgin!Jason Todd who never had sex before he died and when he comes back in a different body, looking like he fucked half of Gotham, is still just a scared little kid underneath it all.

And then came you.

You met Jason at a Wayne Gala, coming as a friend of Duke’s. You didn’t know about any superhero personas, and it showed. Happy and carefree, you weren’t what Jason assumed of the average citizen of Gotham. The parallels didn’t escape him: you, dancing with Duke and slightly buzzed, and him, the epitome of a wallflower. Clothed in a stunning red dress that just so happened to be the exact same colour Jason had practically trademarked, Jason’s eyes followed you over the rim of his glass. He was nursing a cup of non-alcoholic cider because he would never touch a drop of alcohol after his parents.

“Who is that?” Jason murmured to Cass when she came over to hide from the party. Cass was the only one he felt remotely comfortable with. She didn’t know him before Red Hood, like Bruce, so she didn’t compare him to an energetic little boy that was just a memory in the mirror. She didn’t joke around and pretend everything was okay and dandy, like Dick. She didn’t constantly ask whether he was okay, like Steph, or dote on him like he was a broken birdie. She wasn’t holding past resentment, like Tim, who still hadn’t totally forgotten Jason’s rage at his replacement. And she wasn’t a reminder of the al Guhl’s, like Damian. Cass and Alfred were his safe space, even though both had their flaws.

“Y/n L/n,” Cass supplied, not asking any questions. “Duke met her at school and they clicked. She’s been coming over to the Manor more frequently. She’s actually pretty fun. Even Damian introduced her to his zoo.”

Jason couldn’t hold back a snort, wondering how that must’ve gone over. Damian was extremely protective of his pets, so only a select few could interact with them. Jason missed the cocked eyebrow Cass gave him, surprised at his reaction. He was too busy watching you pull Steph onto the dance floor.

“Um, when does she usually come around?” Jason asked, trying to be subtle and failing miserably. “Just so I can, you know, avoid her.

It was Cass’s turn to snort in amusement, before saying dryly, “Fridays or Saturdays.”

Did it surprise Cass at all when Jason just so happens to show up to the Manor on Saturday, claiming he forgot something from the party? No. No, it does not.

Dick was utterly shocked at Jason’s appearance. It was well known that Jason was just dipping his toe into the Batfam again. He usually stayed at his lonely apartment and only came over during a major holiday. Dick tried not to look anything into it, but he couldn’t help a surge of hope that his little brother may be coming back to them.

Alfred, on the other hand, was not surprised at all. In the recent mornings, Jason had been sneaking into the kitchen, just to talk to Alfred. The two shared a bond that few could achieve. When Bruce wasn’t acting as a father, Alfred was there. So when Jason appeared on Saturday morning, having carefully thought out that Friday was much too soon to officially meet you, Alfred had already set out another plate for breakfast.

“Did you acquire any sleep last night, Master Jason?” The butler asked as he flipped pancakes.

Jason chewed at his lip and shook his head. “I tried, but I was thinking too much, you know?”

“Your nightmares again?” Alfred prosed smoothly.

“No,” Jason replied smoothly. Y/n L/n.

Virgin!Jason Todd who knew you were coming over. What he didn’t know was that you were coming over under the pretence that you and Stephanie had a video game to finish, when truthfully, you wished to see the boy from the party that had caught your eye. You weren’t disappointed. Jason had taken up residence in the living room, foot propped on his knee as he oh-so-casually held a book in his hand.

Steph threw Jason a curious glance before throwing herself down on the couch and picking up a controller. “Y/n, this is Jason,” she introduced. “He’s… a brother,” she decided was the best way to describe him.

Jason, determined to look nonchalant, glanced up from his book (he had been staring at the same page for six minutes) and said, “hey.” Excellent conversation starter, Jason, he thought to himself sarcastically.

“Hi!” You gave him a small wave before sitting down next to Stephanie and taking a controller from her. Jason soon found it very difficult to keep pretending to read, not because of the shouts and yells you and his sister were making at the TV, but because of the groans coming from your mouth whenever something didn’t go the way you wanted. He couldn’t help but dream, wondering what other situations you would groan in.

He excused himself soon after, head ducked and neck flushed as he hurried out of the room. He didn’t notice you staring after him, wondering what was wrong. It wasn’t until Steph shouted out that you were about to die that you were snapped out of your trance.

Unfortunately, you did die in the video game, but you found an excuse to talk to Jason via the book he had left behind.

Cass easily supplied his address and so that’s how you found yourself at his door one Saturday evening.

It’s just a book, you reasoned. I could’ve left it at the Manor. This is stupid.

And yet, almost as if he sensed you, Jason opened the door right when you’re about to leave. “Y/n?” His voice was hoarse from disuse and even though he’s bigger and stronger and more dangerous than you, you couldn’t help but compare him to a child coming to their parents after a nightmare.

“Hey, Jason,” you said, holding the book close to your chest. “Um. I just came to return your book. You left it at the Manor.” You hesitated for a moment before asking, “you okay?”

Jason nodded and it was then you noticed his hair was wet from a shower and his grey shirt had sprinkles of little water droplets on the shoulders. “Did I disturb you?” you asked.

Jason immediately shook his head. “No. You could never disturb me.” He glanced at the book in your hands, eyes flicking back up to you before muttering, “thanks,” and grabbing the book from you.

Ripped out of your hands, leaving you without your lifeline, embarrassment bloomed on your face. You didn’t know whether to leave or to continue the conversation — if you could call this one.

Jason hated himself when he awkwardly closed the door in your face.

He tried not to cry himself to sleep that night, images of his scarred body in the bathroom mirror haunting him

Virgin!Jason Todd didn’t see you until next month’s gala. You made your way up to him, this time in a green dress that suited your complexion perfectly. Jason didn’t like seeing you in Damian’s colour. He much preferred his own.

During a slow dance, you asked with hands behind your back, “how was the book?” You leaned against the wall, smiling up at him. Jason really liked that smile, even if he didn’t deserve it. As much as he would hate to see it – jealousy swirled in him even at the thought – it was Dick who deserved that smile. He had always been the suave, smooth-talking one. Hell, right now, there were three girls talking to Dick.

Jason realised he hadn’t answered you. You deserved someone to pay attention to you. But if you could give him another chance to pay attention, he’d happily stare at you forever.

“Um. It was good. Is, I mean. I haven’t finished it yet.” He hadn’t been able to look at the book since you dropped it off. It only reminded him of how poorly he had treated you. And how dangerous you were to his feelings.

After a moment of awkwardness, you asked with a teasing and curious lilt in your voice, “do you not have anyone to dance with?”

Jason’s head whipped towards you. All semblance of coolness left him when you spoke to him. “I’m not really a dancer, princess.” The nickname slipped out and he wanted to bang his head against the wall. He didn’t notice your blush and small smile because he was too busy blushing himself and looking anywhere but you.

He wanted to tell you that he’s never danced before, but he would gladly dance a thousand dances with you. But he couldn’t say that because that would be too obvious. You’re not stupid, he rationalised. You’re perceptive and his poker face is ruined when it comes to you. You’d probably figured out he has a crush on you.

Which he does. A stupid, impossible, and terribly inconvenient crush.

As a kid, he didn’t have time for crushes. Between living in Crime Alley and being Robin, the closest thing he got to a crush was seeing pretty girls on the street. And then the Joker killed him before he was able to be a teenager.

But these feelings were bigger than he had ever felt for a girl on the street. Was this how a teenager was supposed to feel?

So why was he feeling this now when he was a full grown adult?

Virgin!Jason Todd who’s ears flush pink when you cheekily ask him if he has a significant other to dance with. No, he doesn’t have a girlfriend. How could he have a girlfriend when you’re standing next to him looking so pretty? A girlfriend? No, it’s laughable. He might feel attracted to you, but the idea that he could love someone and someone could love him back, even through all the brokenness… was simply absurd.

He wished he could find a better word than pretty. You’re much more than pretty. With all the romance novels he’s read, he should be able to turn his heart beats into words.

It was comical how he can walk into the most dangerous parts of Gotham and emerge without a scratch, but with you, his heart is carved up and shredded. Here he is, flustered over a pretty girl. How pathetic.

And then at the end of the night, when Dick clapped him on the chest and berated him for not using that opportunity to ask you out, Jason thought it was extra pathetic

Virgin!Jason Todd who didn’t know how to go about talking to you. He never learned how. He never had the growing pains of awkward middle school crushes. He was having them now. Should he be flirty like Dick and all those men he read about in books? Should he pass out in your arms from coffee overdose like Tim? Bruce was no help whatsoever and Jason didn’t fully trust him yet to go to him for help.

And bless Alfred, but he was too old for this kind of thing. The butler, depending on his age (for Jason dared not ask), would either subject him on how to marry Y/n L/n before Jason went off to war to fight the Rebels, or how to court Y/n L/n in an intricate dance of politeness and rules where they all wore ball gowns and three piece suits

Virgin!Jason Todd was definitely overthinking it all

Virgin!Jason Todd who knew it was impossible not to overthink when it comes to you. Everything needed to be perfect, because you are perfect. How could he ever ask you out, let alone love you when he had scars both inside and out? It was a good thing he wasn’t a hero, because heroes weren’t supposed to have scars. They weren’t supposed to have trauma. And Jason was the farthest thing from a hero. But that’s all you deserved: a hero

Virgin!Jason Todd who promised to worship you. He promised it to any deity who might be listening just in case they had the graciousness to lead you into his arms. He cursed Bruce the next time he goes to a gala and you’re not there

Virgin!Jason Todd who showed up on your doorstep that night, worried something was wrong. He was still in his suit and tie and shuffling nervously on your doorstep when you opened your home up to him. It turned out you had some work you had to catch up on, which is why you weren’t at the gala.

Hot chocolate and careful talking led to you reaching your hand out to tuck a piece of his hair back. He’s too busy dreaming about laying in bed and having you do that again and again to register your apologies, worried you overstepped. You were apologising. For touching him. He couldn’t stand the thought of that. That you thought you were rude or disrespectful. He needs you to touch him and to think you would apologise for the lovely, new feeling dancing in his stomach and slowly making its way to his heart

Virgin!Jason Todd who then gave you his first kiss, hesitant and slow. His lips pressed against yours, soft and hesitant and a bit off-centred. He tried his best not to let his teeth clash against yours, and he worried he did something wrong when you froze for a moment. But then you brought your hand up to touch his face and oh…

Virgin!Jason Todd who finally understood all those cheesy monologues when you tried to stutter out your emotions. He managed to calm both you and him by kissing you again. Jason found that his anxiety melted away when he kissed you, replaced by a feeling that felt a bit like anxiety, but mostly like home.

His hands laid in his lap, terrified to touch you, the art he was gifted to see. You reached down and gently guided his hands to your waist where he held you tenderly. Holy shit, what if he hurt you? His hands were made to hurt, not to love. How was he supposed to love?

He guessed that you would help him figure it out

Virgin!Jason Todd didn’t mind if the two of you didn’t make it to the bedroom for the next couple of dates. Hell, he would’ve been happy to keep your relationship to watching movies together, you tucked under his arm. He was able to touch you that way. He was able to slowly break down his walls and explore what you liked. A little brush across the side? The small massage of the calf? A kiss to the temple?

It wasn’t about four months into your relationship (which Jason was all too proud to boast and praise you about. He really liked hearing you call him your boyfriend, especially when another guy was hitting on you and they would turn around to see all 6 foot 3 inches and 200 pounds of him ready to throw hands.) that Jason felt himself want more. He wanted all of you. Guilt always gnawed away at him whenever his mind slipped into dangerous territory. Should he be feeling this way? He didn’t want it to seem that he was in this relationship for your body. And how would he ever approach the subject with you? Was he supposed to sit you down and talk about it or just go like all those people in the books and movies.

“Sweetheart?” Jason found you sitting on the floor, reading, because sometimes the floor was just better. He wiggled his way behind you, resting his head on your shoulder. Your hand automatically came to comb through his locks of hair.

He found himself explaining the situation to you

Virgin!Jason Todd who was shocked when you guessed he was a virgin. This was supposed to be some big revelation, but you said you’d deduced it a while ago. Not to mention the relief he felt when you said you’d walk him through it

Virgin!Jason Todd who didn’t know what to do. Now the both of you were in his bed, lips red from making out, a hickey proudly on his collarbone, and you were lifting your shirt up. And when you asked if you could take your bra off, he was pretty sure he had never nodded so quickly. You found it amusing that he was so nervous and excited, but also gratifying that you were the one he trusted enough. You were going to take Jason Todd’s virginity

Virgin!Jason Todd who had his hands guided to your breasts by you. His hands were still for a long moment, unsure of what to do. At his helpless stare, you said, “squeeze them, pinch them, just feel them, Jason.” Slowly kneading your breasts in his hands, Jason felt himself relax. He experimented by lightly pinching your nipple and apparently, that hitch in your breath meant he did something well

Virgin!Jason Todd who then carefully laid you down on his pillow, wanting to take a picture and forever hold onto this memory. But pictures could come later in your relationship. Not even a picture could capture this feeling that was blooming in his chest. You asked if he was ready for the next step and when he confirmed, you wiggled out of your pants

Virgin!Jason Todd who was a bit— oh my god, your thighs

Virgin!Jason Todd who was embarrassed to see your underwear and the wet spot that was slowly getting bigger all because of him. You reassured him that the two of you didn’t need to go any further, but Jason felt the unmistakable and mortifying tightening of his pants. You quickly sat up and tried to calm him down.

“Jay, baby, it’s okay. It’s normal to feel nervous. I just need you to communicate and tell me what you want. If you want to continue, great! If not, great! Let’s go put on a movie and have some popcorn. I will take this at your pace, angel.”

Virgin!Jason Todd didn’t know how you could see him as an angel when the Y-shaped scar on his chest told the story of a devil. A zombie. He wasn’t an angel. He was judge, jury, and executioner. He was a broken man and yet here you were, picking up every shard and piece and creating a fucking mosaic that spanned the cosmos

Virgin!Jason Todd who counted himself thankful a thousand times over when he was able to find the courage to lift his shirt and only see love in your eyes when you saw all his scars and cuts, etched into his skin, each a story that he would wish to forget.

He let you explore and press a kiss to each place he was insecure about. But then he laid you down and slowly slipped your underwear off. Jason swallowed back all the praises and prayers that would’ve fallen from his mouth and made him seem weird. Granted, you two had been dating long enough for you to know Jason revered you, but still

Virgin!Jason Todd who looked at you, wide eyed and heart swelling with love, when you told him that nothing had to happen that he wasn’t comfortable with. There didn’t need to be any oral or anything the first time around

Virgin!Jason Todd who wanted to do more things, but his cock was straining against his boxers so tightly that he might’ve come in his underwear if he didn’t get inside you

Virgin!Jason Todd who had read that he needed to stretch you out first, but you assured him he needn’t do that. Jason didn’t dare think of another man having you and so he did the only thing he could think of — slowly push into you.

Turns out the groans you made with you lost a video game where nothing like the moans you made when he bottomed out

Virgin!Jason Todd who tried so hard not to shoot his load into you when your walls clenched around him the first time.

“You’re making this very, very hard, princess,” he gasped out

Virgin!Jason Todd who managed a few short thrusts before you grinded on his hips and he felt himself losing control. “Y/n-“ he tried to warn you, when your whispered encouragement drove him over the edge. Instinctively, his hips pressed into yours, bucking and trying to obtain friction

Virgin!Jason Todd apologised profusely about the fact that you didn’t come. He felt so bad about it that he was about to get on his knees, determined to try oral for the first time, when you giggled and asked him if he wanted to go another round. Your fingers scratched through his hair and his resolve broke

Virgin!Jason Todd who stared up at you like seeing a goddess when you threw your leg over his waist, straddling him and taking charge

Virgin!Jason Todd who, eventually, after more rounds and more weeks, became more comfortable with pleasuring you and quickly became addicted to your body just as much as he was addicted to your heart and mind

Virgin!Jason Todd who became so much more confident in his body. He began to tease you in public, pinching your sides or hotly whispering into your ear all the things he’d like to do to you. He read some of your smutty books, mentally taking notes, and he studied female anatomy

Virgin!Jason Todd who blossomed into the sex god he looked like, but forever promised that he would only use those powers to pleasure you

Virgin!Jason Todd who wasn’t a virgin anymore

Got this idea from @ivysangel and so I wanted to tag them (thank you! 💕) and also wanted to tag some other people who commented/reblogged cause I was hoping they liked this too 😁🥰

@chinapoty @mxtantrights @thithesandofferings @rookiesbookies @delusionsofgrandeur13 @yourlocalcringydaydreamer @punkeropercyjackson @averageffreader @maarriiii @wordsfromshona @arkhxmknight @v1naco

[rafeandonlyrafe]

distraction

words: 400

warnings: 18+ only, smut, p in v sex, unprotected sex, cockwarming

“no, it’s fine.” you sigh, flipping your hair over your shoulder as you pout at rafe, his skin illuminated by the lamp placed on his desk, casting the room in warm light. “you don’t love me anymore, whatever.”

rafes fingers pause their flying over the keyboard as he finally looks over to you, chair swiveling as he faces where you are perched on the edge of his desk. “baby.” he says firmly, a warning in his voice.

“no, no, it’s alright.” you wave your hand like its dispelling his warning. “you don’t love me. you won’t let me sit on your cock. it’s fine.” “princess.” rafe reaches for your hand, rubbing his thumb over the back of it. “it’s just that i’m busy, darling. i really have to get this done.”

“i’ll sit super still until you’re finished, won’t be a distraction, i swear.” you promise, shifting your hand so you can wrap your pinky around rafes, shaking it to prove your point.

rafe sighs before using your interlocked fingers to pull you closer as you squeal with happiness of finally getting your way. you straddle rafes lap, having already taken your underwear off from under your skirt before entering rafes office, knowing exactly what you wanted from him.

“you’re already hard.” you giggle, reaching between your bodies to undo rafes pants, his bulge clearly straining.

“i got hard the second you walked in the room, bunny.” rafe sighs, leaning back and lifting his hips to let you tug his pants and underwear down to expose his stiff cock.

“then why didn’t you let me ride you?” you whine.

“work.” rafe gestures vaguely towards the computer, not wanting to explain what he has to get done, not when you are lining yourself up with his cock and sinking down with a moan.

“fuck.” rafe groans, one hand coming to grip your ass as you settle against his lap, arms wrapping around him as you lean in, resting your head against his shoulder.

“thank you.” you press a kiss to his neck. “love you.”

“love you too baby.” rafe says, moving his chair back in so he can continue to type. “be still for me, yeah? fuck you after i finish.”

“mhm.” you mumble into his neck, satisfied that you've got rafe stretching your insides, satisfying your craving. you know you won’t be sitting still for long, it’s just a matter of who breaks first, you or rafe.

taglist: @drewstarkeyslut @forstarkey @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @drudyslut @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @jjmaybankisbae @seeingstarks @angelofcigs @cece45450 @babygorewhore @vanessa-rafesgirl @michelleisheres-blog @outerbankspov @drewstarkeyswifehoe @cutielando @kamninaries @buckyswhxre @rafeinterlude @bellbottombaby @deeaardiary @rubixgsworld @emma77645 @wearemadeofstardust0 @leighbronk

[vanteguccir]

── ୨୧ !　EMERGENCY CONTACT

spencer reid x reader

SUMMARY: Where Y/N is between life and death during a case, and the team needs to call her emergency contact, but she doesn't have one. Not until now.

WARNING: Use of gun, blood, getting shot, pain, usual CM violence (but not too violent).

REQUESTED?: No.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism, copy, or "inspiration"! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

　　　༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

The evening was heavy with anticipation as Y/N and Morgan made their way through the dilapidated house. The floorboards creaked under their weight, and the air was thick with dust and tension. They moved cautiously, guns drawn, every sense on high alert.

The house, an old Victorian relic on the outskirts of town, was supposed to be abandoned, but they knew better. The unsub they were hunting had been using it as his hideout, his lair.

It was dark. Only the faint glow from a few broken windows offered any light. Shadows clung to the corners, making the already narrow hallways feel like tunnels into oblivion.

Morgan's eyes flicked over to Y/N as they moved silently down the hall. Her jaw was set in a hard line, her eyes scanning every inch of the space before them. They’d been partners long enough that he could read the tension in her posture, the way her fingers gripped her gun just a little tighter than usual. He gave her a slight nod, a silent assurance that they were in this together. Y/N returned the nod, her lips pressed into a thin line. They both knew what was at stake.

As they approached the doorway, leading to what looked like a kitchen, Morgan gestured for Y/N to take the lead, deciding to look into the hallway. She nodded and moved forward, peeking around the corner. Her heart pounded in her chest, the adrenaline coursing through her veins. Everything was eerily quiet. The kind of quiet that screamed trouble. She took a cautious step into the room, her gun leading the way, eyes darting to every possible hiding spot.

The silence was broken by the faintest creak behind her. Before she could react, a figure lunged from the shadows, catching her off guard. Y/N whipped around, finger already on the trigger. In her haste, she fired a shot into the darkness, the bullet embedding itself harmlessly into a corner.

The sound of the gunshot was deafening in the enclosed space, and in that split second of chaos, the unsub took advantage. He moved like a snake, slithering out of the shadows, his hand shooting out to grab Y/N’s gun. His grip was iron-clad, and he twisted her arm, forcing her to drop her weapon.

"Y/N!" Morgan's voice came loudly from a closer room, the sound of his steps heavy and quick approached where the one from her gun came.

Y/N barely had time to register what was happening before she felt the cold, unforgiving metal of her own gun pressed against her temple. Her breath hitched, her heart racing as she looked into the eyes of the unsub. They were wild, manic, and pupils dilated with a dangerous mix of adrenaline and rage. His face was contorted into a sneer, lips pulled back to reveal yellowing teeth.

"Morgan!" Y/N called out, her voice steady but with a layer of fear and frustration. She knew he was right behind her, and sure enough, within seconds, Morgan burst into the room, his gun trained on the unsub. His dark eyes were fierce, anger simmering just beneath the surface as he took in the scene before him.

"Put the gun down and let her go. Now." Morgan commanded, his voice a low, dangerous growl. He took a step forward, his gun unwavering, trained directly on the unsub’s head.

The unsub’s grip on Y/N tightened, his fingers digging into her skin. He pressed the barrel of the gun harder against her temple, causing her to wince.

"Back off, or I’ll blow her brains out!" He screamed, his voice cracking with desperation. His eyes darted around the room, wild and erratic, as if searching for an escape. But there was none. He was cornered, and he knew it. "You petty agents have destroyed all my plans, and now one of you will have to pay for it."

Morgan’s heart pounded, his mind racing. He could see Y/N’s fear, her eyes wide, her breathing shallow. He needed to calm the unsub down to de-escalate the situation.

"Hey, hey." He said, his tone softening just a fraction, trying to project calm. "You don’t want to do this. Just let her go, and we can talk about this. We’ll figure it out. You don’t have to hurt anyone else."

The unsub laughed, a harsh, bitter sound.

"You think I’m stupid?" He spat, his voice dripping with venom. "I let her go, you’ll just shoot me! I’m not going to jail! I’m not going back there!" His hand trembled, and Y/N felt the gun shake against her temple, pressing her lips in a thin line.

Morgan clenched his jaw, his eyes flicking between the unsub and Y/N. He could see the terror in her eyes, the way she was trying to stay calm, to not make any sudden movements.

"Nobody has to go to jail." Morgan said, trying to keep his voice steady, soothing. "We can figure something out. Just let her go, okay? Let’s talk about this."

The unsub was breathing hard, his chest heaving. His eyes were darting around the room, looking for something that he could do or use. Morgan could see the panic setting in, the way his grip on Y/N tightened. This was a man on the edge, teetering on the brink of madness.

"Don’t come any closer!" The unsub yelled, his voice cracking. "I swear to God, I’ll shoot her!" His hand twitched, his finger hovering over the trigger.

"Okay, okay." Morgan said quickly, taking a small step back, raising his hands slightly to show he wasn’t a threat. "I’m not moving. Just... take it easy, alright? We don’t want anyone to get hurt."

Y/N’s heart was pounding so hard she thought it might burst from her chest. She could feel the unsub’s breath on her neck, hot and fast. She knew she had to do something, anything, to distract him, to give Morgan a chance.

"You don’t have to do this." She said softly, trying to keep her voice calm. "Please. Just let me go. We can help you. Whatever it is, I can help."

The unsub’s eyes snapped to hers, his face twisting into a snarl.

"Shut up!" He screamed, his voice breaking. "Just shut up, you bitch!" His hand shook, and Y/N could feel the gun pressing harder against her skin, her eyes closing tightly with the feeling.

Morgan saw the movement, saw the unsub’s finger twitching on the trigger, and his heart lurched.

"Don’t!" He shouted, taking a step forward. "Don’t do it!"

The unsub’s eyes were wild, his grip on Y/N tightening as he shouted back.

"Stay back! I’ll do it! I’ll shoot her!"

It all happened so fast. One moment, they were yelling, voices overlapping in a desperate cacophony, and the next, there was a deafening bang. Y/N felt a searing pain in her right shoulder, too close to her neck, the force of the bullet knocking her off balance.

A scream tore from her throat as she crumpled to the ground, her vision blurring with tears. The pain was excruciating, a white-hot agony that radiated through her entire body.

She had forgotten how much a gunshot hurt.

In that split second, Morgan’s instincts kicked in. He raised his gun and fired three times. The bullets hit its marks, striking the unsub in the head. The force of the shot sent him reeling backward, his grip on the gun slackening. He hit the ground with a dull thud, blood pooling beneath his head, his eyes staring lifelessly at the ceiling.

The unsub’s lower body fell against Y/N, pressing her more to the ground. She let out a choked sob, her hands clutching at her bleeding shoulder. Morgan was at her side in an instant, shoving the unsub’s body away and pressing his hands to her wound, trying to staunch the flow of blood.

"Y/N, stay with me." Morgan said, his voice shaking, his hands slick with her blood. “Come on, mama, stay with me. You’re going to be okay. We’re going to get you out of here." His heart was pounding, fear clawing at his chest as he looked down at her pale face, her eyes fluttering closed.

His hands were slick with Y/N's blood, his mind racing as he tried to maintain pressure on her wound. Her skin was pale, her breaths coming in ragged, uneven gasps. Each second felt like an eternity, stretching out in a nightmarish haze. He could feel her slipping away, and the thought clawed at his heart, sending a chill of dread through him. He needed help, and he needed it now.

He reached up with one hand, pressing the button on his earpiece, his voice urgent and strained.

"This is Agent Derek Morgan! We have an agent down! Y/N’s been shot, I repeat, Y/N’s been shot! I need paramedics at our location, now!" His voice cracked, the fear breaking through his usually calm, composed demeanor.

There was a crackle of static in his ear, then Hotch’s voice came through, sharp and controlled.

"Morgan, what’s her status?"

Morgan looked down at Y/N, her eyes fluttering as she fought to stay conscious.

"It’s bad, Hotch. She’s been shot in the shoulder, too close to her neck, and she’s losing a lot of blood. We need those paramedics." His voice broke on the last word, the helplessness clawing at him. "The unsub is dead..."

"Hold on, Morgan, they’re on their way." Hotch said, his voice a calming presence even over the comms. "Keep her conscious if you can."

Morgan nodded, even though Hotch couldn’t see him.

"You hear that, Y/N? You stay with me, okay? Don’t you close your eyes. Help is coming." He squeezed her hand, willing her to hold on.

Y/N’s eyes flickered open, pain clouding her vision.

"Morgan... it hurts... like a bitch." She whispered, her voice weak, barely more than a breath.

"I know, sweetheart, I know." Morgan said, his heart breaking at the pain in her voice. "Just hang on a little longer. You’re gonna be okay. We’re gonna get you out of here." He kept his hands pressed against her wound, feeling the warmth of her blood seeping through his fingers, his own heart beating wildly in his chest.

Minutes stretched on like hours, but finally, the distant wail of sirens reached Morgan’s ears. He breathed a sigh of relief as the sound grew louder, closer.

The paramedics burst into the room before the cops - who ran directly to the unsub's dead body -, their faces a mix of professionalism and urgency. They moved quickly, efficiently, setting up a gurney and pushing Morgan aside to assess Y/N’s condition.

"She’s been shot in the shoulder." Morgan said, his voice tight with anxiety. "She’s lost a lot of blood."

One of the paramedics nodded, already working to stem the bleeding.

"We’ll take it from here, Agent. You did good."

Morgan stepped back, his hands stained red, watching as they worked. His heart pounded in his chest, a drumbeat of fear. He felt a hand on his shoulder and turned to see Hotch, his expression grim but steady.

"The rest of the team is on their way." Hotch said quietly. "You did everything you could, Morgan."

Morgan nodded, his throat tight. He wanted to believe Hotch, but the sight of Y/N lying on the floor, her life seeping out of her with every passing second, was almost too much to bear.

The sound of hurried footsteps filled the air as the rest of the team arrived. Emily, Rossi, and Reid rushed into the room, their faces masks of shock and concern. Reid’s eyes locked onto Y/N, and in an instant, his expression changed from one of worry to one of anger.

"What the hell happened?" Reid demanded, his voice a harsh, angry whisper. His eyes were blazing, fists clenched at his sides. He looked from Y/N to Morgan, fury and fear mingling in his gaze. "How could you let this happen?"

Morgan’s jaw tightened, guilt and frustration simmering beneath the surface.

"Reid, it was-"

"You were supposed to protect her!" Reid shouted, taking a step toward Morgan, his face a mask of barely contained rage. "How could you let her get hurt?"

Morgan’s eyes flashed with his own anger, his voice rising to meet Reid’s.

"You think I wanted this? You think I’m not tearing myself apart over what happened? I was right here, Reid! I did everything I could!"

"Enough!" Emily’s voice cut through the tension, sharp and commanding. She stepped between them, her eyes darting between Reid and Morgan. "This isn’t helping anyone. We need to focus on Y/N right now. Fighting like teenagers isn’t going to change what happened."

Reid’s chest heaved, his fists still clenched. He looked from Morgan to Y/N, his anger melting into something softer, more vulnerable. The pain in his eyes was palpable, his hands shaking as he fought to control his emotions.

"Hotch, we need to call her emergency contact. They need to know and be here for whatever they will have to do to keep her alive." Rossi's voice echoed for the first time, his eyes focused entirely on Y/N's form.

Hotch’s brows furrowed, a distant look crossing his face as he tried to recall the information. He shook his head slowly, his voice heavy.

"Y/N doesn’t have an emergency contact listed in her files."

The room fell silent, the weight of his words hanging in the air. Reid’s face fell, the anger replaced by a deep, aching sadness. He knew what it was like to not have an emergency contact, to not have anyone close enough that you could count on when, well, an emergency happens.

"No..." He whispered, almost to himself. "No, that can’t be..."

He looked at Y/N, her face pale and still, and something inside him snapped. Without thinking, he spoke again, his voice firm, resolute.

"I’ll be her emergency contact." He turned to Hotch, his eyes burning with determination. "Isn’t that possible? I can do that, right?"

Hotch hesitated, knowing the protocols, the paperwork, and the formalities that were required. But as he looked into Reid’s eyes, he knew there was no question. The team was family, and in moments like this, family came first. He nodded slowly, his voice quiet but firm.

"Yes, Reid. You can be her emergency contact. For now."

Relief washed over Reid, his shoulders sagging. He turned back to Y/N, moving to her side as the paramedics lifted her onto the gurney. He reached out, taking her hand, squeezing it gently.

"I’m right here, Y/N." He whispered, his voice trembling. "I’m not going anywhere."

The paramedics nodded to Reid, indicating he could ride with them. Reid climbed into the back of the ambulance, never letting go of Y/N’s hand, his heart breaking at the sight of her so fragile, so still. The ambulance doors closed, and within seconds, they were speeding toward the hospital, sirens blaring.

As the ambulance sped away, Morgan stood in the doorway, his eyes fixed on the disappearing vehicle, his hands still stained with Y/N’s blood. He felt a hand on his shoulder and turned to see Hotch, his expression somber.

"We’ll meet them at the hospital." Hotch said quietly. "She’s going to need all of us."

Morgan nodded, his heart heavy with guilt and fear.

"I should have made more." He said, his voice barely more than a whisper.

Hotch squeezed his shoulder, a rare show of comfort.

"You did everything you could, Morgan. Now we have to hope she pulls through."

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

The rhythmic beeping of the heart monitor was the only sound that filled the room, a constant reminder that Y/N was alive, stable, and recovering. The sterile scent of the hospital lingered in the air, mingling with the soft hum of the fluorescent lights overhead.

Spencer sat on the small couch beside Y/N’s bed, his lanky form folded into the uncomfortable seat, eyes fixed on her pale face. He hadn’t moved in hours, not since they’d brought her out of surgery and told him she would be okay.

His heart had been in his throat then, relief flooding his system, washing over him in waves so strong he’d almost collapsed. But now, the adrenaline had worn off, leaving him exhausted, drained, his mind a whirl of thoughts and emotions. He hadn’t eaten, hadn’t slept, hadn’t even gotten up to go to the bathroom. He couldn’t bring himself to leave her side, not even for a second. His hands rested on his knees, fingers interlaced, his knuckles white with the tension he held.

He watched her, every shallow breath she took a lifeline for him. The rise and fall of her chest, the flutter of her eyelids; each small movement was a sign that she was still there, still fighting. He’d replayed the events of the day over and over in his mind, guilt gnawing at him for not being there, for not protecting her, even though he knew, logically, that there was nothing he could have done. But logic didn’t soothe the ache in his heart, the fear that had wrapped itself around his soul, squeezing tight.

A soft murmur broke through his thoughts, a faint sound that made his heart leap into his throat. His eyes snapped to Y/N’s face, and he saw her eyelids fluttering, her fingers twitching against the white sheets. He was on his feet in an instant, moving to her side, his hand reaching out to take hers gently.

"Y/N?" he whispered, his voice soft, trembling with the weight of his emotions. "Hey, can you hear me?"

Y/N’s eyes fluttered open, the bright light of the hospital room making her squint. She blinked slowly, her vision blurry, disoriented, but as her eyes focused, they found Reid’s face, his wide puppy eyes filled with worry and relief. A small, tired smile tugged at her lips, her voice hoarse as she spoke.

"Spence..."

Relief washed over Reid, his chest aching with it. He squeezed her hand gently, his eyes never leaving her face.

"Yeah, I’m here." He said softly, his thumb brushing over the back of her hand. "How are you feeling? Are you in pain?"

Y/N swallowed, wincing slightly as the movement pulled at the stitches in her shoulder.

"A little." She admitted, her voice weak but steady. "But it’s manageable. I’m okay, Spencer. I’m alive."

Spencer nodded, his eyes shining with unshed tears.

"You scared me, Y/N." He said, his voice thick with emotion. "When I heard you’d been shot... I thought..." He trailed off, his throat closing up at the memory, the fear that had gripped him so tightly.

Y/N’s fingers tightened around his, her thumb brushing against his skin in a comforting gesture.

"I’m sorry." She whispered. "I didn’t mean to scare you. It just... happened so fast... The unsub, is he-"

Reid nodded, confirming her unfinished question - yes, he's dead -, his brow furrowing as he observed her, concern etching lines into his face.

"And mentally? How are you holding up?" He asked, his voice gentle, but with the unmistakable edge of a profiler. "I mean, after everything you went through today..."

Y/N took a deep breath, her eyes closing for a moment as she processed his question.

"I’m okay." She said slowly, her voice soft but firm. "It was terrifying, but... I'm alright."

"Are you sure?" He asked again, his eyes focused on hers, as if he was reading into her mind. "You know, it’s normal to experience symptoms of PTSD after a traumatic event like this." He continued after noticing how she hesitated to answer his question, his voice taking on that familiar tone of reciting facts. "Victims can often experience flashbacks, anxiety, depression... Did you know that the amygdala can become hyperactive, causing an exaggerated response to stressors? It’s important to talk about what happened to process it. Avoidance can actually worsen symptoms, so facing the trauma head-on is usually the best course of action..."

Y/N listened quietly, her eyes softening as she watched him talk. His words were a comfort, his knowledge a balm to her frayed nerves. She knew this side of Spencer, the need to rationalize, to explain, to wrap his mind around every detail until it made sense. It was one of the things she loved most about him. She didn’t interrupt - she never did -, letting him talk, his voice soothing her more than anything else could.

When he finally paused, taking a breath, she smiled at him, squeezing his hand.

"Spence..." She said softly, her voice pulling him from his thoughts. He blinked, focusing on her, his expression anxious. "I’m really okay. I promise that if I go through any of these things you listed, I will let you know. Okay?" She assured him, her smile warm despite the pain in her side. "Thank you for being here."

Reid’s eyes softened, his grip on her hand tightening slightly.

"I wouldn’t be anywhere else." He said quietly, his voice thick with emotion. He hesitated, his eyes flickering with uncertainty before he continued. "I, um... I told Hotch I’d be your emergency contact." He said, his voice tentative, as if he was afraid of her reaction. "I know it’s not official. There’s paperwork and procedures, but... I just... I couldn’t let you be alone."

Y/N’s eyes widened in surprise, her brows drawing together as she looked at him.

"You... did that for me?" She asked, her voice soft, touched.

Reid nodded, his cheeks flushing slightly.

"I... I didn’t want you to be alone." He repeated, his voice barely more than a whisper. "I care about you, Y/N. A lot. More than I probably should. And when I thought I might lose you today... I realized that I can’t... I can’t hide it anymore-"

Y/N’s heart skipped a beat, her eyes widening as she looked at him.

"Spencer..." She whispered, interrupting him, her voice filled with surprise.

Reid swallowed, his eyes dropping to their joined hands, his thumb tracing small circles on her skin.

"I’m in love with you, you know?" He said, the words tumbling out before he could stop them. "I’ve been in love with you for so long, and I was too scared to tell you. But seeing you lying there, thinking I might never get the chance to say it... I had to tell you."

Y/N’s breath caught in her throat, her heart swelling with emotion. She could see the fear in his eyes, the vulnerability, the raw honesty of his confession.

"And it's... it's totally okay if you don't feel the same, I would totally understand it-" He started rumbling desperately after a long minute of silence.

Without a word, she reached up with her hand from her unharmed arm, her fingers curling into the fabric of his dark tie. She tugged him down, her movements slow and careful, mindful of the pain in her other shoulder.

Spencer’s eyes widened, his breath hitching as he let himself lean down, shutting up instantly, his face inches from hers. Y/N’s lips curved into a soft smile, her eyes shining with life.

"I love you too, Spence." She whispered, her voice filled with sincerity.

Before he could respond, she pulled him closer, her lips pressing against his in a gentle, tender kiss. It was soft, hesitant, but filled with all the emotions they had kept hidden for so long. Spencer’s heart raced, his eyes fluttering closed as he kissed her back, his hand cupping her cheek, his thumb caressing her soft skin.

The kiss was everything he had ever dreamed of. Her lips were so soft and plump against his own, moving slowly in a perfect dance, her uncontrollable breathing hitting his face as a gentle and warm welcome.

As they pulled away, their foreheads resting together, Spencer’s heart felt lighter than it had in years. He had almost lost her, but now, as he looked into her eyes, he knew he would never let her go.

"I think you owe me a date now." Y/N whispered, a small smile stretching across her lips.

"Of... of course! As soon as we get out of here, I'll take you on as many dates as you want." Spencer nodded frantically, the tip of his nose hitting hers with his movements while his eyes traveled around her face, memorizing all the details he could finally see up close before lowering his head, meeting her lips with his own again.

[magnus-rhymes-with-swagness]

VERY URGENT: Help Aseel evacuate!

Aseel Asaad (@aseelo680) is being displaced for the umpteenth time right now as we speak. As you can see in this video, tanks are advancing, firing missiles.

Aseel and her family are in one of the most dangerous places in the entire world. They need to evacuate as soon as possible, and between the Rafah crossing opening soon and the constant threat of death looming over their heads, we need to get them to their goal as soon as possible.

They're at $6,612 now, so let's get them to $7,000 within the next hour, and then we can keep pushing until we reach the goal of $20,000. This is extremely urgent and Aseel's life is on the line. Please donate anything you can to her, and if you can't spare anything, reblog this post and boost her campaign. I've been seeing far too many of you flat-out ignore the fundraisers on your dashboards, and this is unacceptable! Aseel needs your support right now, and you need to step up.

If you would like an incentive to donate, you can enter my book raffle and get the chance of winning a collector's edition of the Wrinkle in Time series, and you can also get a writing commission from me.

YOUR DONATION OR REBLOG WILL QUITE LITERALLY BE THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN LIFE AND DEATH.

[Video description:

Footage of smoke from missiles rising in the distance. People are screaming.

/End description]

[sturnlovaa]

"i can't believe you did that," you murmur softly, tracing the lines of the fresh tattoo with a gentle touch. your body is still humming from the afterglow of being intimate with your boyfriend, your limbs tangled up with his in a mess of sweat and satisfaction.

"you know," his voice is soft, breath hitching slightly as your finger traces over his new tattoo. the ink is still fresh, a bit raised against his skin, a beautiful tribute to you in bold letters on his arm.

he pauses, his heart beating steadily under your cheek as you rest against his chest. "i never thought i'd get a tattoo of someone's name," he admits, his free hand gently grazing your thigh draped over his abdomen. "but there’s just something about yours that feels right,"

his words were sincere, and the warmth of his voice sends shivers down your spine. the ink on his skin is only a small testament to the love you two share - a constant reminder that you are always on his mind, always in his heart.

intrigued by the raw vulnerability in his confession, you gently bring his arm to your lips, peppering the newly inked skin with soft kisses.

the feeling of your lips against the sensitive skin sends a rush of pleasure coursing through him. he can't help but let out a low rumble of contentment as he watches you kiss your way up his arm to his shoulder.

you pulled back, offering a gentle smile as you climbed on top of him, wrapping your arms around him as you leaned down to whisper, “there’s just something about you that feels right,”

©sturnlovaa

[nerdy-novelist017]

Benny x bunny, where she faints and she gets taken to the hospital but he wasn't around when she fainted, so once he gets to the hospital and asks what happened she completely downplays it. Also if you could write him getting the call it would be 10/10.

You guys are so self-indulgent and I love it! This was really fun to write so I hope you enjoy! Benny's really just a stressed little muffin in this

Benny x Bunny Masterlist

Word Count- 2.2k

Summary- See request above.

Bruised Ego (Benny Cross x Shy!Reader)

The cue ball struck against the green stripes, a significant clack echoing in the clubhouse as he sunk the last ball into the pocket. With a smirk around his cigarette, Benny straightened to his full height, hands sliding down the cue stick smugly. 

“That’s two games in a row, kid,” Wahoo groaned as he rounded the pool table to throw another five dollar bill into Benny’s winnings. “You must be lucky.”

“We can see if my luck will make it to an even 3,” Benny chided. He knew it wasn’t luck, Wahoo just sucked at playing pool. The slow afternoon was passed by the few integral members of the Vandals hanging out in the clubhouse, drinking, smoking and razzing each other. There was going to be a race tonight at the club bonfire; some newcomer kid on a piece of shit hand-built bike thought he was going to take on Cal’s racing Harley. Everyone knew he was going to blow him away, but it was still free entertainment and a chance for the club to meet again.

“Yeah fine, but I want the stripes this time.” Wahoo grumbled.

“You know what the definition of insanity is, Wahoo?” Johnny asked over his shoulder. He sat at the bar, counting a few stacks of cash as he and Brucie worked on the finances of this month's dues. 

“Well, your boy keeps doin’ all these trick shots,” Wahoo retorted as he began to rack for the new game. 

“Of course he is,” Johnny looked over his shoulder, smirking. “I taught ‘em how.”

Johnny turned back to his task at hand before he could see the bird Wahoo flipped him. The phone rang from the back of the bar and Cal went to answer it. 

“I’m feeling pretty lucky for this game too,”  Benny laughed as he bent forward to position the first shot. Clack, another shot that sent multiple solid colors spiraling around the table. 

“Benny,” Cal called, holding the phone up. “It’s for you.”

“Okay,” Benny nodded, chalking the end of his cue stick. It was probably you calling to tell him you missed him. You often called him at least once if he was gone for a few hours, your way of checking on him as you worried about him. He’s tried telling you multiple times that you don’t have to worry about him, he’d be more careful because he had you to come home to every night. You promised you'd stop calling so much but he told you he didn't mind hearing your voice so sometimes, you’d call and ask him to pick up something from the store, too. “Tell her I'll be over in a minute.”

“No,” Cal said slowly, voice tight. “It’s Kathy. She said somethin’s happened to Bunny.”

Benny’s heart stopped. “What?”

“She’s at the hospital–”

Johnny turned to Cal and said something – asked a question maybe – but that was all Benny needed to hear before he tossed the cue stick onto the table and turned for the door. He shoved it open and fished his bike keys out of his pocket as he tossed the rest of his cigarette onto the sidewalk. He set off for his bike, throwing his leg over the seat and flipping the ignition switch.

 He brought his foot down onto the kickstart but it only sputtered. He tried it once more. Twice. And Benny felt tears of frustration burning in his eyes as he pictured you laying lifeless in one of those awful hospital beds, every worst case scenario running through his mind.  He kicked it again. “Fucking, c’mon!”

“Benny,” Johnny’s calm but assertive voice cut through the ringing in Benny’s ears. “I’ll drive. Get in.”

He nodded, wanting to say thanks, but he found his mouth too dry to speak, jaw clenched too tightly. He followed Johnny to his car, quickly sliding into the passenger seat. Johnny twisted the key in the ignition, threw it into reverse and peeled out as he drove in the direction of the hospital.

“Kathy said she’s okay,” Johnny assured, his voice composed as Benny’s knee bounced up and down with anxiety. “Said she was up and talkin’ to the doctors.”

“I can’t – I can’t lose–” Benny started but his voice broke and he squeezed his eyes shut at the thought of something happening to you. 

“She’s okay, Benny,” Johnny repeated, firmer this time. “She’s okay.”

******

Benny practically ran through the hospital waiting room to get to the front desk, skidding to a stop and asking the nearest nurse where you were. Johnny had dropped him off at the door, saying he would find a place to park and be in as soon as he could. 

“Benny!” Kathy called out for him down the hall. He abandoned the nurse’s station and approached her. 

“What happened? Where is she?” he asked, swallowing hard in an attempt to control his nerves. 

“I’ll take you to her,” Kathy touched his arm gently and led him down the hallway of ER rooms. “We were outside workin’ in my garden, ya know? A–and she just fell over, like completely onto her face, didn’t even try to catch herself. She hit her head pretty good when she landed so they’re runnin’ some test.”

Benny nodded, trying to process her words in his jumbled brain. She stopped in front of a room and motioned for him to enter. He took a deep breath, hoping his shaking hands weren’t noticeable and pushed the door open. 

And the sight of you nearly crushed his heart. You looked so small sitting on the hospital bed, legs dangling off the side, hand pressing a blue ice pack to the side of your face. When you looked up and noticed him, you sat up straighter and squeaked out, “Benny!”

He was at your side in an instant, hands carefully roaming in an attempt to find anything physically wrong with you besides the obvious head wound. “What happened?”

“I’m fine,” you said, taking his hand in your unoccupied one and giving it a reassuring squeeze. “It’s nothing, Benny.”

“It wasn’t nothin’,” Kathy spoke up from the doorway, nervously glancing between you two. “You were out for a good couple minutes. Scared the livin’ shit outta me. ” 

You shook your head, shooting her an exasperated look around Benny’s shoulder. “I told you not to call him.”

“Bullshit,” Benny interjected. “You get taken to the hospital and you think I shouldn’t know ‘bout it?”

“I’m fine, really,” you said with a sigh and you looked so . . . tired. Benny wanted to scoop you up in his arms and take you home in that instant. “The doctor said I just got overheated. You know how hot it’s been.”

Benny’s hand gently encased yours holding the ice pack, pulling it away so he could inspect the damage. He grimaced at the sight of the nasty purple and red bruise forming around your right brow bone and down to your eye socket. Despite his best efforts, his hands still shook as he pulled away. He’d seen his fair share of bruising – most of the time it was from his own reflection in the mirror after a fight. But the sight of the injury coloring your beautiful skin. . . it made his stomach flip. You were so frail, so breakable and the realization squeezed at Benny’s heart. He was supposed to protect you and if he could, he’d shrink you down and put you in his pocket, safe and secure. He looked over his shoulder to Kathy, “Would you. . . would you let Johnny know what’s goin’ on?”

“Sure thing,” she answered and disappeared out the door.

Silence fell heavy between you and Benny desperately searched for something to say to make you smile again, to make you blush . . . but his heart still pounded too hard and his stomach still churned from the uncertainty to come up with anything. So he did the only thing he could in that moment; He pulled you into a tight hug, hand cradling the back of your neck as he fought back that awful sting of tears again. 

“I’m okay, Benny.” Your voice was muffled against his chest. “I promise.” 

“You can’t–” his voice broke and he had to swallow thickly before continuing. “You can’t scare me like that, Bunny.” 

“I didn’t mean to–” 

“I just– I just love you so much,” he breathed out as he pulled you impossibly closer.

“I know you do,” you whispered gently and he couldn’t understand how you were always so strong, so resilient. “I love you too, Benny.”

You gave him a moment to compose himself, to slow his erratic heartbeat and melt into your sweet touch before you pulled back, lowering the ice pack and said, “There is something that will make me feel better.”

“What’s that?” he asked, heart softening at your brazen smile.

“A kiss.”

“Is that so?” His gaze fluttered over your angelic face, still beautiful despite the bruise. 

“Mhhm, it’s what the doctor ordered, actually.” Your grin grew wider as he put both hands on the sides of your face, thumbs sliding gently along your jaw. He kissed you softly, lips barely ghosting over yours in fear of hurting you as if you would crumble beneath his touch. That wasn’t good enough for you apparently as you leaned forward to chase him before he could pull away completely. Your hands came up to hold his in place over your face and you returned his kiss with such vehemence that Benny’s brows pinched together in enthrallment. 

The distinct clearing of a throat broke you both apart and Benny caught sight of the doctor standing in the doorway, hand rubbing at the back of his neck awkwardly. You blushed and looked away as the doctor entered, apologizing for the intrusion. 

“We got the test results back,” he said and Benny straightened, feeling his heart rate pick up again. “Bad news is we figure you passed out due to heatstroke. With this severe heat wave hitting Chicago, we’ve had multiple patients come in from it so don’t feel bad. Good news is you were able to get here quick enough that we could get your core temperature brought down before any damage was done. As far as your head, you don’t appear to have a concussion, but you will have a pretty nasty bruise for a while.”

“So . . . she’s okay?” Benny asked, hand finding the top of your thigh to ground him. 

The doctor nodded. “Yeah she’ll be just fine as long as she takes it easy for the rest of the day. No more gardening in this weather, okay?” 

You giggled abashedly at his joke and Benny breathed a sigh of relief. 

The doctor continued, “I’ll have the nurse bring around another ice pack for you to take home before we start your paperwork to leave.”

Benny held your hand as he stood beside your bed faithfully while they worked on getting you discharged of the hospital. You were okay, he repeated in his head like a chant. You were okay and that made him okay.

“You know since I'm gettin' out of here early we’ll still be able to go to the race tonight,” you pointed out with a small smile as you nudged him with your foot to get his attention.

“No, I’m taking you home where you’re going to lay your pretty little butt down in bed for the rest of the day,” he said firmly with a shake of his head.

“I don’t want you to miss Cal’s race!” you said as you tugged on his hand gently, lip pouting. 

“I don’t care about the race,” he replied flippantly.

“Well, I do! Plus I want to see the girls, too. C’mon, please Benny?”

He shook his head, trying to remain firm in his decision even as you gave him your irresistible puppy eyes. 

“Please Bennyyyy?” you dragged out his name in that adorable way you did when you wanted something. “I’ll sit in the shade and I’ll let you know if I’m not feeling good, I promise.”

He contemplated it. The race wasn't until later in the evening and the temperature should be cooler, but still. . . “You’ll go home and lay in bed until then?” 

You nodded, holding your pinky out to him in a silent promise.

Unable to deny you of anything, he reluctantly looped his pinky with yours. “Fine, but we’re only stayin’ for the race. No bonfire afterwards.”

You beamed at him and he knew you were proud of yourself for once again swaying him with your charms. 

******

Hours later, as the picnic was just getting into full swing, Johnny couldn’t hide the smile on his face as Benny pulled up with you on the back of his bike. Though surprised, he was sure you had roped the kid into coming, you seemed to be able to get away with just about anything when it came to Benny. He shook his head, as he watched Benny help you off and the two of you approached his picnic table filled with the core members of the Vandals, noting how he seemed to hold you a little tighter as if you were bound to trip and fall. 

“Hey, aren’t you supposed to be takin’ it easy?” he badgered as he stood to give you a hug. 

“And miss out on a race?” you grinned as you gave him a quick hug before looping your arm back through Benny's. “Never.”

“Well, it’s good to see you’re feelin’ better, kid,” he said honestly. 

Funny Sonny caught sight of the reunion and hollered as he approached. “Hey Bunny, I’d hate to see the other guy!” 

You blushed as you remembered the bruise forming on your face and before you could say anything, Benny spoke up from beside you. “Yeah, she got ‘em good with her mean right hook.”

You grinned at him as Sonny laughed. “Hell yeah! Bunny’s a fighter now, boys!”

They cheered and you rolled your eyes playful as you leaned up on your tippy-toes to plant a kiss on Benny’s cheek. 

-Tag List-

@imusicaddict @elizabeth916 @jaiuneamesolitaiire @ironmooncat @beebeechaos @astrogrande @pearlparty @themorriganisamonster @sillylittlethrowaway @ughdontbeboring @penwieldingdreamer @eugene-emt-roe @semperamans @groovyangelkisses @charmingballoon @sunnbib @killerqueenfan @cynic-spirit @pomtherine @tranquilty @m00npjm @twisteduniverse5 @justsomewritingblog @nhlfs @dudii4love @thepassionatereader @rebecca-hvnstn @nethanybear @dreamlandcreations @buckysteveloki-me @simsiddy @zablife @sansaorgana @butler-trouble @autumnleaves1991-blog @lindszeppelin @wavyjassy @real-lana-del-rey @ilovehyperfixating @xcallmetaniax @lovenewfandoms @youngestxhearts @abaker74 @ateliefloresdaprimavera @thefallofthedamned @hottpinkpenguinreads @nctma15 @vendylewin @capswife @alexa4040 @pearlstiare @sweetestrose569 @18lkpeters

[moonastroellie]

Jerking off sub Ellie

Warnings: 18+, smut, reader jerking off Ellie, Transgender!Ellie

It started off as a normal day for you and Ellie- she made you breakfast, you both ate together, and decided to have a lazy day today.

It happened quick, Ellie whimpering beneath you while you stroke her sensitive dick.

"fuck- baby, right there, right there" Ellie whimpers out, you chuckle in an attempt to tease her. "yeah? That good baby? How much you like it, tell me baby"

"s-so f-fucking much baby, fuccckk" she groaned out, holding onto your wrist as you start stroking her tip- she was more sensitive on her tip, she bucked her hips into your hand, whining loudly- obviously, you have to tease her more.

"that good baby? fuck, you sound so good" Ellie's cheeks grow red at your comment and she hides her face in your shoulder, her moans getting more and more desperate by the second, you speed up the pace, knowing she won't last any long...

"I'm gonna- fuck cum" her grip on your hand tighter than ever, her breathing hitches as her stomach contracts- her breathing gets shallow as she starts cumming, your hand filled with her cum and her whimpering your name and a string of curses.

She is SO fucking hot

i actually have inspo to write now, as soon as I said I wasn't going to be writing for a bit...

Permanent taglist: @elsbabyxx @bylerkiss @iluvme9 @darkerstarsstuff @piinkpraise @amsxdoll

[catcze]

Thinking about after marrying Wriothesley and as you two are on your way to go the car to go to your honeymoon, Wrio can’t stop smiling and he’s holding ur hand so tight and keeps mumbling to himself in wonder. You walk together, swinging your hands, the ring on your left hand catching on the light.

“We’re married.” Every time he says it so himself, his smile just gets brighter and his hands keep on shaking. He looks at you, wonder and delight misting his eyes, and you wonder if he’s gonna cry again.

“Mhm,” you say, grinning ear to ear. “I got a husband now.”

“Husband.” He enunciates it slowly, like he still can’t believe it. “That’s me. I’m your husband.”

He sounds so dazed still— so in awe of the whole thing. You can’t help but laugh, squeezing his hand tighter in your own.

“Yup. And now you’re stuck with little ol’ me.” You grin, nudging his hip with yours. “For the rest of forever, you hear? No take backsies.”

For the rest of forever, Wriothesley thinks, his throat tight. Squeezes your hand back, tries to press even closer to you. He tries to fight back a grin and fails miserably.

“That doesn’t sound too bad,” he muses, heart skipping a beat when you laugh.

[ #Taglist registration here !! ]

[lvrxly]

ִ ࣪𖤐- An Odd Feeling

Simon "Ghost" Riley x fem!reader

summary: your neighbor, Simon, is a single dad. and you frequently babysit his son, Oliver. You've grown to love Oliver, buying toys for him, planning play dates, and even offering to babysit him while his dad goes on a date..wait what? You really thought after all of this Simon would choose you, but maybe he will..?

cw: simon is somewhat oblivious at the beginning >:((, mdni - smut, slight age difference (Simon is in his mid-30s while the reader is in her mid-20s), unprotected sex, breeding kink on Simon's part, oral sex (f receiving), Simon can't help but want another kid after seeing how you treat his :((

a/n: sorry this took so long to get posted! and i apologize for any grammar mistakes, i don't have the energy to edit this right now ;( (it's almost 4am).

hope you enjoy lovies ;)

⋆｡‧˚ʚɞ˚‧｡⋆

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

There was that damned nickname again. 'Love'. Simon always seemed to call you love, it was almost infuriating how that little pet name could make your heart race and your cheeks heat.

Simon had a date with someone a friend of his set up for him, Soap, you think was the guys name. From a photo Simon showed you, she was pretty, gorgeous even. Slim and tall, long blonde hair, and seemingly put together.

"Yeah no problem. Have fun, try and get laid. You definitely need it," You say with a dry laugh, bouncing his son, Oliver, over to your other hip. Why the fuck would you say that? 'Get laid?' Why would you even suggest such a fucking thing knowing you can barely stomach watching him go out on this date in the first place.

He cleans up nice, a fitted pair of dark grey khaki pants with a white button up shirt, the sleeves rolled, revealing his tattooed forearms, and his sandy blonde hair slicked back out of his face, making him less shaggy looking than you were used to.

Simon laughs and waves goodbye as he turns on the heels of his dress shoes and hops down the steps of your front porch. You wave at his back, shutting the door with a heavy sigh. You turn around and set Oliver down, watching as he bolts toward the little corner of your living room which you had designated as his play area for when he comes over.

Your heart feels heavy as you walk over towards your couch, tossing Oliver's diaper bag and blanket onto one of the cushions. You flop down onto the other cushion, kicking your feet up on the coffee table that is placed in front of your couch.

Oliver looks just like his father, from what you could see anyways. Dirty blonde hair, gunmetal blue eyes, and a small dimple on his left cheek. He was an adorable kid, an easy one to babysit too.

Oliver runs up to you, a toy tractor in his hand as he holds it up to you, his other hand rested on your knee as if to help him balance better. "Tac-tar!" He exclaims.

You smile at him, taking the toy he was offering you, and touching your fingertip on his nose, causing the little boy to giggle. Enough about Simon. Oliver was your date tonight. Your own play date buddy.

⋆｡‧˚ʚɞ˚‧｡⋆

It was a little after 9pm, maybe just about 9:47, when Simon got back. He had knocked on your door for a good 5 minutes before he gave up and decided to let himself in.

He used the key that you would poorly hide under your doormat. The two of you would get into arguments about the placement of the key.

"It's the most obvious spot, love, you're gonna end up getting robbed on of these days." Simon had said the day you told him where it was, he was always worrying about your safety. You knew he was an ex-military Lieutenant, but then again that might just be the dad in him talking.

After unlocking your front door and pushing it open he begins to speak, "Sorry I was a little later than I thou-" But he cuts himself off after his eyes land on your couch.

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

His breathe is caught in his throat as he stares at the two of you, slowly shutting the door behind him as he makes his way over to the couch.

A small smile paints his face as he stands behind the small and slightly sad turquoise couch, bending down so his forearms rested in the back cushion. He watches you sleep, his eyes dragging up and down your frame. After a moment he uses a single finger to brush a stray piece of hair off of your face, tucking it behind your ear.

His smile never falters as he pets the back of his sons head, his long blonde hair slightly sweaty from how hot it probably was being all nuzzled up to you.

You stir in your sleep, your eyes fluttering, only for them to end up shooting wide open in shock. You gasp and clutch the back of Oliver, sighing after realizing who was really watching you sleep.

You sit up, cradling Oliver in your arms, careful not to wake him. "Do you normally watch people sleep?" You say with an annoyed look on your face as you rub your eyes, sleep still attempting to pull you back in.

After regaining most of your consciousness, you stand from the couch, your clothes wrinkled and Oliver's little head on your shoulder as you hold him in your arms.

"Eh, define normally," Simon says, a joking tone noticeable in his voice. Was he trying to make a joke? Since when did Simon Riley ever makes jokes? What the hell happened at the date?

"Your in a good mood. You didn't really end up getting laid right? You know what..? I don't think I wanna know." Your words are frantic and slightly irritated. Why did you feel so...odd right now? Simon is a single man. He has the right to go on dates with beautiful women. Unfortunately.

You bounce around your kitchen, rocking your hips side to side to keep Oliver asleep for as long as possible. You can't help but notice how Simons eyes follow your hips as they move. And..what was that? Did he just groan? No no, that would be crazy.

"No I didn't get laid," He finally replies. You let out a breath you didn't know you were holding in. Almost like a breath of relief.

"If I was getting laid I would have gotten back a lot later..It takes more than 30 minutes with me, love.." Simon was suddenly behind you, his breath hot on your neck as his hands hover above your hips, heat radiating off of his tatted skin, almost scorching the flesh of your thighs through your pants.

You stop bouncing his son, glancing over your shoulder at Simon and..holy shit he was close, almost too close. Those damned eyes were pulling you under and you didn't know if you wanted to be saved.

Oliver shifts in your arms, waking up slowly. His tiny hands rub his eyes, rubbing the sleep out of them. Once he's awake and spots his dad he immediately makes grabby hands towards him.

You gladly hand him over to Simon, anything to get away from the man that was way way wayyyy to close for comfort. You give Oliver to his father and take a large step away from Simon. You see his smile falter but he quickly regains his composure when his son calls his name, his tiny hands on Simons cheeks.

"You have fun while I was away buddy?" He asks his son, to which Oliver responds with a vigorous nod. He then begins to blabble on about his trucks and snacks he ate, but you space out, your eyes still locked on the two of them.

Simon looked so good with a kid, he was a good dad. You can't help but imagine how good he must have been to his wife while she was pregnant. Her lose for leaving him. He's a great guy. Unfortunately, that means women probably throw themselves at him. Hot, ex-military, AND good with kids??? Yeah, they definitely do. And you would to, if you were so full of self doubt.

"Love?" You hear Simon say, his eyes now focused on you as Oliver was seemingly put down to go play for a little longer.

"I asked if you're free this weekend? Oliver is going over to his grandparents for a few days and I was wondering if you'd like to do something?" His voice was shy...that was weird. It's almost like-

"Are you asking me on a date?" You say, a teasing smirk playing across your lips.

"No no, well- no it's not like that. Just as friends, you know- without the ruckus of that one running around." When he says "that one" he points towards Oliver, who was currently crashing two tractors together and making a crash sound with his mouth.

"You know what? Sure Simon. I'll see you then."

He smiles, nodding softly as he runs his hands through his hair, the gelled effect must have worn off because it was back to its shaggy state, almost getting to the point it reached his eyes. He needed a haircut, but it's not like you didn't like the shaggy look. It was unexpectedly sexy.

Maybe it was just your hormones talking but everything about this man was unexpectedly sexy. His tired eyes from sleepless nights and early mornings, his tatted arms, a few of the tattoos colored in with what seemed like marker from Oliver, and his tall frame, almost towering over you to the point you had to look up to see his face.

You did suggest that he should get laid, but maybe you're the one who really needed the action. It's been who knows how long, and your getting so desperate that you literally can't look at him without butterflies fluttering in your stomach as well as..further south.

⋆｡‧˚ʚɞ˚‧｡⋆

After sending Simon and his son home, you immediately ran to your bedroom, quickly stripping out of your clothes and hopping into the warm water of your shower. With your back to the water and your hands in your hair, you can't help but let your mind wander back to your neighbor.

What was he doing right now? Was he helping Oliver brush his teeth? Was he just getting into the shower too? Was his shower water warm or cool? Did he have tattoos elsewhere? What did the soap look like running down his chest and down his legs..?

Okay, you need to go to bed. Sleep would do the trick. Right?

⋆｡‧˚ʚɞ˚‧｡⋆

Wrong. Sleep 100% didn't do the trick. Two full days of almost nothing but sleep and this man has been filling your head with thought of him, some more naughty than other. He had crawled into your dreams, your thoughts, and your daily life in general. You cant even pour creamer into your coffee without seeing his smug ass face in your mug.

It was now the weekend, around 7pm on a Saturday. The sun had already gone down and you were sitting in your living room, a random cheesy rom com on the television as you scrolled on your phone. You scrolled through your feed, seeing videos of your college friends out partying, drinking, and having fun. Then there was you, sitting at home with day old mascara on your lashes and sleep evident on your face.

There was a heavy knock on your door, with a raised brow you hop up from your couch and make your way over to the door, peaking through the peep hole to see who it was. And to your surprise, it was exactly who you were thinking of.

There Simon stood, a bottle of champagne and a single red rose in his hands as he bounces on his heels, he was back to his regular shaggy look, unkempt hair, white t-shirt, blue jeans, and his silver dog tag hanging from his neck.

Quickly, you open the door with a smile and invite the man in. As he walks in towards your kitchen counter you quickly become aware of your appearance. Old makeup on your face, and crinkled clothes that you couldn't be bothered to iron.

However, at this point the two of you have seen each other at your worst, hell you've seen Simon running off of two hours of sleep with a sick little Oliver who wouldn't stop crying and coughing.

"Champagne and a rose? This feels like a date to me.." You tease running a hand across his shoulder as you pass him, earning a shiver from the man. you stand on the opposite side of the kitchen island as he takes a seat on one of the barstool chairs you have, sliding the bottle towards you.

"Take it however you want love." He laughs, running his fingers through his hair, pushing it out of his face, his bicep flexing in the process, and holy fuck.

You shake your head and pop open the bottle of champagne. "I'm glad I know you and Oliver, he's a good kid."

"You're such a big help with the little guy, I honestly don't know what I'd do without you. He loves you a lot." Simon is more soft spoken than usual as he twirls the rose between his fingertips.

You're frantically searching your cabinets for those champagne glasses you got all those years ago but have never used. You swear you still had them.

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

"So I'm not considered a friend? I see how it is," Simon fakes a hurt expression as he takes a mug from you with a raised brow. His shoulders shake in silent laughter after he looks at the mug to which it read "Male Tears" in big black lettering.

You laugh along with him, "Eh, I kinda like your son more than you, he's less broody," You tease, pouring the champagne into each of your mugs. Your mug saying "Reading is Sexy" with blue lettering.

There the two of you sat, at your kitchen island drinking cheap champagne out of coffee mugs with a single red rose placed between the two of you.

-

After a few hours and an entire bottle of champagne, the two of you sat on your couch together, a movie on your tv.

You sat with your legs draped across Simons lap, his hand resting on your knee as his fingers gently rubbed circles into your skin. It tickled, but in a good way.

You fought sleep, your eyelids slowly shutting and reopening. Your breath was calm and slow, a comfortable silence had fallen between the two of you.

"Gettin' sleepy love?" Simon asks with a chuckle, his deep blue eyes lingering on you as he rubs up and down the length of your leg.

You don't bother answering verbally, you don't have the energy. You shake your head in a quiet and small 'no', your hand coming up to rub your eyes. What time was it? It couldn't be that late.

With a groan, you sit up and grab your phone off of the coffee table, tapping your screen a few times for it to turn on. Your screen nearly blinds you, a curse falling from you lips as Simon merely chuckles next to you. 11:57. Almost midnight already? You thought, there's no way.

Simon peaks over your shoulder and shakes his head, running his hands over his face with a yawn. "Surely I haven't been here all that long, it's definitely past our bedtimes," he teases as he moves your legs off of his, standing from the couch with a stretch, his shirt lifting, showing off a fucking happy trail. This man was too hot for his own good. It had to be a crime at this point.

You stand next to him, rubbing the sleep from your eyes as you yawn, making your way lazily towards the direction of your bedroom.

"I better get ta' goin'-" Simon begins, before you cut him off.

"Oh please, theres no way in hell you came over here just to hang out as friends, Simon." Your voice is low as you stand before him, your bodies mere inches apart as you stare up at him. Messy hair, sleepy eyes, and those god damn dimples shining through as he smirks down at you. You fuckin' knew it.

His arms wrap around your waist, his face nearing yours as he walks you backwards into your kitchen, your hips hitting the kitchen island. "I've been caught."

His breath smelling of cheap champagne and cigarettes as his lips grazed yours. His lips are soft as he finally kisses you, fitting perfectly against yours.

Simons hands remove themselves from your waist, landing on the kitchen island, trapping you between him and the counter. You deepen the kiss, standing on your tippy toes to match his force, earning an audible groan from the blonde man in front of you.

When the kiss ends, nothing but heavy panting and quiet curses fill the air. "Fuckin' hell love.." he whispers against your neck, his lips leaving a trail of kisses up and down your warm skin.

Quiet whimpers leave your lips as his lips work their way up to your ear, where he whispers a phrase that makes your knees want to buckle. "Get on the fuckin' counter doll, I've waited far to long for this and my tongue is tingling for your taste.."

Obviously, you do as he says, hopping up onto the cool granite. "Atta girl," he says, his voice raspy as he tugs the waistband of your pants down, pulling them off your legs as if he's been craving you for years. Maybe he has been..

In a swift motion he pushed you onto your back, earning a quiet yelp from you as your back touched the cold surface. With his eyes glued on your panties and his hands on your plush thighs you can't help but whimper, letting your head fall back onto the counter top.

"Fuckin hell lovie, you're already so wet..." Simon says through gritted teeth, the pad of this thumb rubbing slow circles against your clit, the feeling of the pressure over the fabric of your panties was enough for you to clench around nothing.

"Simon please-" you whimper, your hips rolling against his touch, eager for more. This draws a chuckle from the man in front of you, he pulls his hand away with a smug smirk on his lips.

Not another word is shared between the two of you before Simon is kneeled on the tile flooring and he has your legs over his shoulders, his face at perfect height with your core. He pulls your panties to the side, groaning at the sight before him. He was so fucking hard right now, straining against the zipper of his pants.

He blows a cool puff of air against your cunt, watching as it flutters before it, his smirk never falters as he runs his thumb over your cunt, coving his finger in your juices.

"Riley I swear to the gods, if you don't stop playing with your food-" you begin, getting cut off with his tongue against your slit and his thumb rubbing circles against your sensitive bundle of nerves. His tongue works in and out of you, flicking and sucking, the noises that fill the kitchen are positively hypnotic. Your whimpers and moans mixed with the wet noises of Simons tongue between your legs. And to top it off, every time you buck your hips against his face he moans, a low growl like noise that makes you absolutely drip.

Simon is only using one hand to hold open your legs, his right hand has traveled down to his pants, unzipping his jeans and finally giving himself that oh so needed friction that he's been deprived of. His tongue goes flat against your cunt, his head shaking side to side, flicking his tongue every so often, just enough to catch the tip of your clit.

He palms himself through his boxers, rutting into the palm of his hand. "You like that baby? You're gettin' louder.." he teases as he sucks on your clit, causing your back to arch off of the counter top and your hands to fly to his hair, tugging on the blonde strands, pressing his face into your greedy little cunt even more.

"Simon! Right fucking there, please please please..." You moan, your thighs threatening to close around his head as your legs shake with pleasure. Your breath is quick and your moans are loud as Simon god damn Riley holds your legs open, sucking and licking your clit, you were about to fall apart right then and there, but after he shoves two fingers into your cunt you absolutely crumble.

The orgasm rushes throughout your body, your grip on his hair tight. He doesn't stop though, his tongue stays glued to your clit, his fingers moving at a pace that makes your writhe, drawing out this heavenly orgasm as long as he can.

You're already fucked out as he pulls his fingers out of you, kissing your fluttering cunt, kissing up your torso and tugging your shirt over your head to kiss all the way up your lips. This kiss was everything passionate, the taste of you still lingering on his lips.

Your eyelids are heavy and your chest rises with a quick pace, still trying to come down from your high. Sweat glitters your skin, your panties hanging from your ankle and your mascara running down your cheeks. "So beautiful, so fucking gorgeous baby.." Simon whispers as he kissed you on the forehead, running his hands over your cheeks. "But we're not done yet, no no no, this night isn't over until I fill you up so full that Oliver will have a fucking sibling by tomorrow.." His voice is deep and sultry, pulling you up off the counter by your wrists and tossing you over his shoulder like a damn sack of potatoes.

With a yelp from you, Simon gives a little smacks to your ass. His quick strides make it to your bedroom in no time at all. He tossed you on the bed, you landing on your back, your toes bouncing along with the mattress, earning a low curse from the man in front of you. He stands at the end of your bed, quickly pulling his pants and boxers off of himself. He can't go another fucking second without being inside of you.

The image of this man crawling on top of you, his ink covered arms on either side of your head and your legs on either side of your hips as he pressed against you. It was all so much, your cunt was dripping, and from what you could see so was the tip of his cock.

Holy shit his cock, it was huge, veins running up and down the length of it. You figured he was from the start, but now that it's in front of you, how the hell will it all fit?

His hands reach for your thighs, pushing them up so your knees neared your ears, the tip of his cock teases the entrance of your cunt, the bead of pre-cum smearing all over your clit. You wiggle your hips, eager for something, anything but this fucking torturous teasing that this man seems so obsessed with.

"Simon.." You moan, earning a groan from the man. His eyes have not left you this entire time, his gaze wandering up and down your figure with a look of biting desire.

"Moaning my name like that..fuck," He groans through gritted teeth, pressing the tip of his cock inside, fucking finally.

You suck in a breath through your teeth, biting down on your bottom lip as you grip the sheets.

Simons eyes shut with pleasure as he pushes into you. Only to open once again to watch your face, watching for any looks of displeasure, he makes it about half way when your eyebrows furrow and your hand flies to his torso, pressing against his abdomen as a way to tell him to stop for a second.

"It's okay lovie, breath, you're taking me so well.." He whispers, leaning down to kiss your cheek, kissing away a single stray tear that had seemingly rolled down your cheek. Slowly, he continues to push into you, the two of you share a mutual moan as he finally bottoms out, his stomach pressed flush against your clit.

"Good girl, my good girl baby, yes.." He moans, his hands under your knees as he holds one leg over his shoulder and the other off the the side.

Your whimpers, his groans, and the smell of sex fills the bedroom. You rock your hips, indicating the need for friction. With pleasure, Simon gives you what you needs, rolling his hips and pulling out about half way before slamming back inside you. Your loud moans and pleases for more, more, more fill the room, causing Simon to let out a guttural groan, hai cock twitching inside of you.

Simon shifted his hips, dragging his cock out of you. It glistened with your arousal, and it made his face grow hot. He bit back a whimper when he pushed inside you once more. You gasped, and he did it again. Again and again until he had a set a rhythm that had your entire body on fire, writhing against the mattress.

"Yes yes, fuck Simon, makin' m' feel so good, I-" You whimper, your legs shaking and your eyes squeezed shut out of pure pleasure.

Simon had reached a hand down and was now rubbing circles on your clit. Your words had his brain swimming, his thrusts deepening and pace quickening. The tight ball of pleasure was drawing tighter and tighter in the base of your tummy, your cunt fluttering around his cock.

"Fuck baby, you feel so good..wanna put a fuckin baby in you lovie..." His voice is low, his groans turning into whimpers as his thrusts become sloppy, he's nearing his own climax. Your own peak is nearing, your cunt fluttering around his cock, clenching and squeezing as he moves at a pace that is absolutely intoxicating.

"Come for me, baby," he whispered. "Come on my cock. That's it, baby, yeah– good fuckin' girl."

His finger moves quickly against your clit, rubbing as his cock bullies in and out of your greedy little cunt. The force of his thrusts make your tits bounce, earning deep and needy groans from the back of Simons throat.

You came around his cock with a sob of his name, your cunt squeezing him tight as the ball of pressure snapped in your tummy. Your orgasm was hard, slamming over you and rendering you breathless, your head floating. Your clit pulsed beneath the movements of his fingers.

The tightness of your cunt earned a fucked out moan from Simon as he slams in and out of you, reaching even deeper than before. You wanted to scream. He was so deep. You were so full.

"Such a good girl, suck a greedy little cunt— so tight I don't think I'll be able to pull out-, yes baby.." He blabbered helplessly as he becomes utterly pussydrunk, his head lolling back and his eyes closing with pleasure.

"M'gonna come in this tight cunt," Si whispered, almost too quiet for you to hear. He spoke louder when he continued his sentence. "You want my cum, baby? You want me to come inside you? Want me to fill you up, fill this pretty tummy?"

"Yes! Please—!" You practically scream.

"I will— I'll fill you up with all of my fuckin' cum.." He moans, his thrusts sloppy and his grip on your thighs bruising. "Take it all like a good girl," he moaned. "Get you–fuck —get you pregnant. Fill you up with my kids. I'd look after you, baby."

You were basically screaming.

And with that Simon cums, your name falling from his lips as the white hot liquid spills from his cock into you. He doesn't pull out, tugging you up so that you straddled his hips, his hands on your as as he holds you up, him leaning back against the heels of his feet. The two of you share a tender kiss, his lips softly kissing your lips, cheeks, and neck.

"Fuckin' hell love.." He laughs, his voice raspy. He finally pulls out, a deep groan slipping from his lips as he watches his cum drip out of that sweet little cunt. Carefully, he lays you back down on the mattress, staring down at you with low eyes and a small smile on his lips.

"You were so good just now, you know that? So beautiful, so fuckin' hot-" He moves so he's laid beside you, his chest pressed against your back as he rubs small circles on your hip with his finger. "-I loved your moans, and the feeling of your pussy..just stay like this with me for a second, yeah?" His hand runs up and down your side, the two of you falling into a comfortable silence as his breath tickles the back of your neck.

What an odd feeling. It all felt as if everything had always been like this. As if the two of you were meant to be, and this was all just natural.

⋆｡‧˚ʚɞ˚‧｡⋆

Simon and You sit in your living room together, his hand on your thigh and Oliver running back and forth with a superman action figure in hand making a 'swooshhh' sound with his mouth.

The promise ring on your finger sparkles as you look down at it, you can't take your eyes off the damn thing. It's been a week since he's given it to you, but every time you eye catches the little piece of jewelry you can't help but stare.

Three years of crushing and helping him raise his kid. One night of his name being moaned and orgasm after orgasm. Two weeks form that night he asked you out. It's been four months since he asked you to be his girlfriend. Everything seemed to be moving so quickly. But not, at the same time. It feels like you've know each other forever so it was natural. Nothing odd about falling in love so quickly.

Or maybe the love has always been there, it was the commitment and the confessions and the confusing mixed signals that were messing with the process.

But in the end everything had fallen in place. Simon still lives next door, but that is gonna change soon. He spends more and more time over at your place than his own. Both his and Oliver's clothes litter your laundry, and instead of one lonely toothbrush in the bathroom, there's now three.

Pink, Blue, and a tiny red one for Oliver.

This was how it was meant to be. Simon, Oliver, and you. And possibly another one. Simon is pretty eager for that addition. Now that was a little fast even for you.

⋆｡‧˚ʚɞ˚‧｡⋆

a/n: not to singledad!simon anymore. <33

p.s.- i tagged everyone who i saw asked to be, sorry if i missed ya! and thank you all so so much for all the love. i love all of ya so so much! <33

[1-900-venusluvs]

You cannot tell me that man would eat pussy like it’s his first meal in years. He would slowly kiss up your thighs til he reaches to your inner thigh. When he does he kisses it before giving it a hickey just to fuck with you a bit.

“you have the body of a goddess, i swear darling.”

He says as he grips your thighs with his veiny hands, he definitely knows how to make a woman cum for sure. He licks your slit before actually eating you out. Whenever your legs close From stimulation, he spreads them back open with a smile, his thick cock has harden at the sight of your face scrunching and your eyes rolling back.

“Don’t you wanna cum amor? So let me show you.” He spoke again in a stern like tone, he shoves his fingers inside you before sucking on your clit. His tongue flicks on your bud as he goes faster. You feel a wave of ecstasy come over you as you’re gripping his brown curls. You cannot believe a Greek god like Miguel O’Hara himself is making you cum. You feel a feeling in your stomach indicating you’re gonna cum. You shut your thighs around his head and moan loudly. Your fluids get on his chin and mouth as he licks it up swiftly without you knowing a damn thing. You put your head back onto the soft pillows before hearing him get up. You make a comment about his abilities.

“Can’t believe one of the most cockiest gods made me cum.” you say with a faint chuckle. He licks his fingers before a grin plastering on his face. It wasn’t just a grin, it was that grin. His upper lip goes up and his sharp fangs poke out ever so slightly. Fuck he was hot. Your mind was clouded with thoughts of this god infront of you.

“I am the god of pleasure so, have to own up to my name.” He says before winking at you playfully.

Like the saying goes, you fell first but he fell harder ཐི♡ཋྀ.

And here is to my taglist🥂: @moon-rivr @monstera02 @lazyjellyfish300 @yougavemeyourheartyouknow @yournextbimbogf @chiwhorei @blahblahblahbluesblog

[jewelulu]

Here comes Jewel for the twst stitch event!! Shhh I know I broke the rules for this a bit but she’s matching with Grim in sprit! (she’s loyal to her clothing color palette)

Honestly this took longer than I expected, it was supposed to be finish like three days ago

But where there’s water there is chaos bound to happen:

Also nice little Jewel fun fact… she indeed cannot swim!

I actually got lazy by the time I drew this one out

Taglist: @skriblee-ksk

[ghost-proofbaby]

too sweet (astarion ancunin x reader)

"you know, you're bright as the morning, as soft as the rain. pretty as a vine, as sweet as a grape. [...] you're too sweet for me."

summary: astarion realizes you're too sweet for him, and he probably shouldn't let this go further than necessary. but, oh, he's going to. isn't he? (based on this request and the song 'too sweet' by hozier <3)

pairing: astarion ancunin x gn!reader

warnings: spoilers for games regarding camp dialogue with astarion, discussion of astarion's past trauma, talks of self-loathing/disgust with sex, vague mentions & allusions to sex having been had, manipulation at it's finest! minors dni.

wc: 2k+

a/n: i just wanted to get inside this man's mind when he drops that fucking line the second time he tries to sleep with us/tav. why does his face fall like that? why?

divider by @firefly-graphics <3

As Astarion observes the rise and fall of your chest in the soft morning light, he can only think one thing: shit. He fucked up. 

And he had spent most of the early hours trying to retrace his steps, trying to decipher exactly where his monumental mistake had begun, but it seemed useless. 

It could have been somewhere between the first and third bottle of wine shared with you last night during festivities, where he’d sweet-talked you to the high Hells until you’d agreed to return to his bedroll in the dead of night. Where he’d made the joke that wasn’t all that funny – the joke that he loved you. Three pretty words tried out on his tongue, and they hadn’t been nearly as light-hearted as he’d wanted them to be. More of an experiment, a quick sip to see if he liked the taste. And he had fucked up, because he did like the taste. He liked the sweetness that stuck to every corner of his mouth as he delivered the sugar-coated lie to you, his entire face falling as a new weight appeared in his chest. 

But perhaps it had been the first night he tasted you – well, your blood, that is. The night he’d awoken from a nightmare of Cazador and in his vulnerability, had chosen you as his victim of yet another experiment. A test to see if he was truly free. One drop of a thinking creature’s blood, that was all he needed. But you’d given more than he’d bargained for, and your cloy ichor had coated his taste buds so addictively, and he had just known that night was only the beginning. It was the first time, but certainly not the last. 

He thinks he could drink in whatever you offered him, and only that, for the rest of his days while still finding some sickly, twisted version of reprieve regardless. Not a drop more than he needed, always vying for more. 

He’d be okay with that type of hunger, that type of yearning, and that might have been his first real mistake. 

Or maybe, just possibly, it had been that very first meeting. Maybe he had doomed himself from the moment he’d pressed a blade to your neck, when he had dragged you to the ground with him and felt all that warmth, all that fear, radiating off of you. So frightful, and you still had offered your help to him when it was all said and done. Perhaps that was when he had well and truly screwed himself over. One simple introduction, void of his usual wine and flowers, and he’d locked himself in for pure trouble. 

Not even the fun kind, at that. What a shame. 

At the end of the day, or rather the beginning of the day as it is now, it doesn’t matter where his threads had started to unravel. All that matters is that they were – every carefully thought out line of his plans had all frayed, all detangled from the bigger picture, all because of you. 

Heart of gold, blood of honey. You were far too sweet for him, and he knew it. 

“Having fun, are you?” 

“I am, it’s hard not to with you.”

You’d taken each of his tactics in stride, hadn’t you? Whereas his face had nearly crumbled beneath the weight of that beautiful lie, insides twisting uncomfortable as the humor had slipped through his fingers, your eyes had only glittered as you bit back a smirk. To so lightly tease him, to banter right back with him, instead of see the truth behind it all. He didn’t know if you were simply that naive or if you were another kindred soul – Perhaps you were finding just as much safety, just as much sanctuary, in whatever dance he’d dragged you into. An entanglement of lies, a blithe facade, a daring smile that whispers come now, play with me. 

And play with him, you had. 

You’d played with him, you’d drank with him, and you’d now slept with him. Twice. 

“You’re up early,” your voice murmurs, silken tone cutting through all his racing thoughts. 

He hadn’t even noticed you had stirred, rousing yourself out from underneath his stolen blankets to peer at him curiously as he perched on the edge of the bedroll. As far from you, and as far from your sweetness, as possible. 

“Oh, you know what they say, my dear,” he chirps, rolling his shoulders as the act wraps him back up. The charismatic charmer. The illusive rogue, trained impeccably to coax you in and secure his safety, “No rest for the wicked.” 

He’d awoken before you last time, too. Had watched the sun rise and enjoyed the warmth of it plastering across his skin long before you’d ever woken up. He half-hopes you’ll be less talkative this time; he half-hopes you’ll try to rope him into whatever discussion you can, if only for a few extra seconds of your attention. 

You were too sweet. Too sugary on his tongue, too soothing in his chest. He shouldn’t entertain you – he shouldn’t let this go further than necessary. 

You hum thoughtfully, the blanket slipping and exposing more of your chest. With the light flickering in from his tent’s entrance, he can easily spot those two scarring dots along your jugular where his fangs fit perfectly, “I don’t know if I’d describe you as wicked, lover.” 

“No?” Roped into discussion, it is. “How would you describe me then?” 

He’s not comfortable in this lighting. He feels feverish beneath your steady stare, the way your eyes take their time as you look over every inch of him. The languid observation has him convinced you’re seeing right through him – your glance can pierce right through all his armor and expose every flaw. You see him for the monster he is, you see him for the bitter soul he’s become, you see him as the unworthy spawn he believes himself to be. 

He almost swears that you even see right through his nice, simple plan at hand, not so easily fooled as he had believed you to be. 

“Charming, certainly,” you suddenly sigh, sitting up and keeping your body mostly covered still with that knitted blanket. He’d only snagged it because the shade of the wool nearly matched your eyes – not that he was paying attention to your eyes, of course, “But then again, you’d have to be to have bedded me twice now, wouldn’t you?” 

“We can always make it thrice,” he banters back, ignoring the bile that builds at the insinuation. But if that’s what it takes – laying on his back over and over again – to guarantee your protection, he’ll do it. He’d do it a thousand times over to keep himself as far away from Cazador’s chokehold as possible, “Does that entice you, love?”

When he turns his body fully, beginning a carefully and calculated crawl up the bed roll, ready to slot his body back between your thighs and encourage you to have his way with him, you stop him. The heel of your foot delicately presses against his chest, your head tilted curiously before you shake it. 

“Who’s the eager pup now, Astarion?” 

He likes the way his name drips off your tongue. Almost as if he might be made of the same sugar and spice as you, the same pure honey flowing through your veins also inhabiting his. You say it like a song, articulate it like the sweetest fruit. 

He shouldn’t like it. It shouldn’t be able to overpower his lingering disgust with himself so easily. 

“It’s hard not to be eager when it comes to you,” he says the line with good practice, beckoning a purr to his tone that had always won over the victims he’d entrap in dark taverns back in the city, “I said the Gods had made you just to ruin me, and I meant it.”

He’d meant it more than he’d realized. It wasn’t just your body that had been sculpted to draw him in – it was everything. Your entire aura, your entire glacé demeanor. All that innocence and all that geniality enticed him more than he could ever admit. You were certainly going to ruin him, so wholly and so entirely. You’d already started to, really. 

You don’t respond at first, and he swears he has you. You’re locked in on his distraction, caught up in his web, just as he needs you to be. One lithe hand lifts to your ankle, cool fingers wrapping around your warm skin as he begins to lower his lips, ready to pepper kisses up your leg. Prepared to offer you his mouth, his body, in return for the one thing he needs. Self-loathing be damned. 

Old habits die hard, right along with pride, and he’s not quite ready to bury either at your grave yet. 

But just as he presses the first chaste kiss to your skin, nearly taken back by how your sweetness still breaks through the salty surface, you’re pulling the limb away from him. Your knee draws back and a disarming smile has risen on your cheeks, eyes glittering at him just as they had the night before. 

“I suppose I’ll have to come find you when everyone is asleep, then.” 

“I’ll be waiting.” 

What exactly had he been waiting for? You, of course. But had he been waiting for you to find him solely for what had transpired? To explore your portfolios of talents once more, as he had put it? Or had it been for something more… precarious? 

Was he nothing more than a prey, waiting for you to be his demise? 

Had he actually been waiting for this? 

The challenging look in your eyes as they reflected back stars, the warmth of your skin so close to him he nearly melts into you. The upturn of the corners of your mouth, outlining the way you certainly know something that he doesn’t. A look you wear well, a look that shakes his foundations and rattles his bones. 

“As tempting as you are, I’ll have to decline. Duty calls, as they say.” 

Can you see right through him? 

He should be more deflated when you start going through the motions; he should be pouting or overthinking it all as he watches you gather your clothes once more, covering up the few bite marks of his that litter your skin. Every moment you prepare to leave his tent should be one spent overthinking where he’d gone wrong – why didn’t you want him? Was his plan even going to work? 

Were you truly too sweet for him? Would he have been better off trying to romance the likes of Gale for the safety just shy of his grasp now?

He doesn’t, though. For once, his mind is quiet as he watches you patter about. The bile retreats, the disgust fades. For the first time in a very long time, Astarion is leaving this interaction not feeling used. 

Maybe it’s in the way you cheekily snatch one of his shirts as you both pretend he doesn’t notice it, or maybe it’s in the gentle caress of your fingers through his hair as you pass him to pick back up your discarded weapon. Maybe it’s in every shy glance you offer him, or maybe it’s in your ever present grin. 

Watching you leave should worry him, but it only feels like a breath of fresh air. A wind that comes sweeping in with the promise of next time just as you pull back the flap to his tent. 

And he hadn’t realized he’d been waiting patiently for you to turn back to him until you do just this, offering him one final glance that sets him aflame, “Oh, and before I forget – you can feed on me tonight, if you need to.” 

Heart of gold, blood of honey. He couldn’t say no even if he wanted to.

“Then I’ll see your delicious self tonight,” he takes a pause, one big and unnecessary breath filling his chest alongside that warmth you bring to him. The fearless leader, the kindest soul. His most apt nickname for you yet falls off his lips in a content sigh, “My sweet.”

He shouldn’t entertain you – he shouldn’t let this go further than necessary. 

But he’s going to. Gods, he is going to. 

After all, the sweetest fruits always fall from the most forbidden branches, do they not?