#have so many bruises on my arm right now because I just.

[running-in-the-dark]

I just want to be like. a normal fucking 30 year old

who can go out and do shit and meet people and fuck people or whatever I don't know, things that normal people do

but instead I just have to fucking sit here and be miserable all the fucking time because my brain is a useless, broken piece of shit that won't even let me THINK about any of that shit without panicking and hating myself because I am bad, worthless, irredeemable

I literally hate my life so much its not even funny

if I fell off a cliff tomorrow I'd be fucking relieved tbh

[seungkwansphd]

contusion confusion

pairing: seungcheol x afab reader word count: 4K synopsis: your clumsy lab partner left a bruise on you. seungcheol seems disproportionately upset by it, but it makes way more sense once you understand why. themes: college au, best friend seungcheol, double sided repressed feelings, possessive and jealous seungcheol. warnings: smut, mentions of bruising/marking, mention of reader being smaller than seungcheol.

a/n: i started this literally one year ago and lost steam. and then blonde.fucking.scoups comes along and truly does a number on me. anyways, bon appetit, LOL

“What the hell happened to you?” Seungcheol’s eyes widened as you stretched your legs across his lap on the sofa.

“What?” you blinked at him, taking your eyes off of the television momentarily.

“What’s this bruise from?” he asked, resisting the strong urge to touch the bluish purple mark just above your elbow.

“Ah, that!” you shrugged, “I almost tripped the other day in lab. Mingyu grabbed me, but he might as well have let me fall! Who knew someone could bruise you just from grabbing you! Like how strong is that dude even?” you rolled your eyes. Grumbling, you returned your attention to the screen.

Seungcheol stewed next to you. While he had no real claim or reason to be upset at your lab partner, every time you brought him up, it made him want to strangle someone.

Mingyu was so tall that you had to readjust the titration burette between replicates. Mingyu was all sweaty because he had come to lab right after the gym. Mingyu didn’t cover his face while sneezing.

Seungcheol eagerly awaited next semester when he wouldn’t have to hear about this man anymore.

Swallowing, your eyes flitted nervously to your best friend’s hands, which were stroking your calves absentmindedly as he watched the show. While just a mindless gesture on his part, you were struggling silently with the way it made your insides turn just slightly into jelly.

“Cheol, that tickles!” you finally pulled your legs away, curling into a ball against the armrest of the sofa.

“Oh, sorry,” he smiled sheepishly at you, seeming distracted. It almost seemed like your friend was sulking, but you couldn’t understand why. You were watching a sitcom!

…

“There you are!”

You looked up to see your lab partner standing over your table, clutching the straps of his backpack.

“Oh, hey Mingyu,” you furrowed your brows at him, “Did you need something?”

“I thought we were supposed to be working on our lab report today?” he cocked his head at you, wondering if he had gotten the time wrong.

“Oh shit!” you cursed, “I’m so sorry Gyu, I totally lost track of time!”

“That’s okay,” he laughed, “It’s not that big of a deal. You want to work on it now?”

“Sure!” you nodded, glancing at Seungcheol and Jeonghan, who were immersed in their computer programming assignments. “Do you mind if Mingyu joins us? We have a lab report.”

“Yes, we heard,” Jeonghan rolls his eyes at you, “Sure that’s fine.”

“Thanks,” Mingyu nods before taking the seat next to you.

“Did you start anything for it yet?” you asked, pulling your lab notebook out of your backpack.

“Whoa, did I really grab you that hard that day?” Mingyu exclaimed, seeing the purple bruise on your arm.

“Yes, it fuckin’ hurts too!” you squinted at him, annoyed.

“I didn’t think you could bruise someone just by grabbing them. I guess I’m just super strong, huh?” Mingyu preened.

“You’re so fucking annoying,” you threatened to punch him.

Jeonghan observed Seungcheol’s shift in mood with mild interest as you and Mingyu muddled your way through your lab report.

“I need some coffee or I’m going to rip my eyeballs out,” you announced after calculating mole fractions for far too long. You stood from the table to move towards the cafe in the library. You tapped your fingertips on your wallet mindlessly as you calculated how many shots of espresso you could consume without your heart bursting out of your chest.

“YN!” a familiar voice greeted you as they tapped your shoulder.

“Ah, hey!” you smiled at Bina, your lab partner from last year. “Ugh, I’m working on a lab report and it is giving me flashbacks to last semester!”

“Oh my god, please don’t remind me!” she rolled her eyes. You two had barely managed to scrape through that class. Unlike you, it had been her only chem requirement, so she was free of the horror of lab reports now. “Who’s your lab partner this semester?”

“Mingyu Kim,” you scrunched up your nose slightly, “God bless him, but he is such a klutz.”

“Wait, no. Mingyu? The Kim Mingyu?” Bina paled slightly.

“Why? Do you know him? Is there tea?” you looked at her with wide eyes.

“No, god I wish. He’s just so hot to me! I’m jealous, I would slog through another semester of chem to be his lab partner.”

“Would you?!” you gaped at her, thoroughly alarmed. “You’re sick in the head over this man,” you laughed heartily.

“No, probably not,” Bina chuckled after giving it some more serious consideration. “But I’d think long and hard about it.”

“We’re sitting over there if you wanna stop by and say hi. I’ll introduce y’all,” you offered before placing your order with the cashier.

“I might do that,” she craned her head to see exactly where your table was. “You’re sitting with Seungcheol too? My friend is infatuated with that man. They’re in Comp Sci together. Can she come say hi too?”

“S-sure,” you answered blankly. You had no stake or claim, but something in you wanted to scream ‘NO!’ when you heard Bina ask that question.

“You’re the best, we’ll be over in a bit,” Bina smiled brightly at you, giving you a squeeze.

“Okay, I’m ready to resume crying,” you announced when you returned to the table with your beverage.

“Okay, good, cause I’m ready to take a break from crying,” Mingyu looked up at you pitifully. “I think I figured out 4. So then if we can figure out 5, then we just need to pull together some nonsense for the discussion.”

“Okay, okay,” you nodded determinedly. By some miracle, question 5 was just some simple dilution practice, so before long you and Mingyu were typing furiously, chipping away at the remainder of the lab report.

“Hey YN!” Bina’s voice pulled you out of a sentence about how (DUH) important it was to switch pipettes between samples.

“Oh, hey Bina! What’s up?” you waved excitedly at your friend, eager to do some meddling for her.

“Not much, how are you? Long time no see!”

“Yes, luckily you’re done with your chem requirements, otherwise you’d be here crying with us,” you laughed as Mingyu and Seungcheol looked on at you with interest. Jeonghan had long ago put on a pair of noise canceling headphones and was ignoring everybody. “Mingyu, Bina was my lab partner last semester. And she was a lot better than you are,” you couldn’t help but tease.

“Hey!” Mingyu pouted.

“I mean at the very least she’s my height, so I didn’t have to readjust the biuret every time we titrated,” you rolled your eyes playfully at Bina.

“It’s not my fault you’re both short,” Mingyu protested, eyes flickering to Bina for some support.

“If it makes you feel better, I was terrible in lab too,” she offered up sympathetically, “YN is my patron saint of chemistry. Did she ever tell you about how I exploded two crucibles one time?”

“No!” Mingyu looked at her with interest, “Was YN also very mean to you and made you finish your work way ahead of time?”

“Yes!” Bina giggled excitedly, “Like why can’t we pull all nighters like normal people?”

“Hell no, I’m not disrupting my sleep schedule for y’all. No thanks,” you shook your head stalwartly. “Anyways, you two should exchange numbers so you can complain about me on your own time,” you chuckled. Bina and Mingyu seemed to agree and set about that task enthusiastically.

“Ah, sorry I’m being rude, this is my friend Hayoung! We’re in a writing foundations class together so we were working on that.”

“Hi,” she waved at everyone shyly.

“Hayoung, what’s your major?” you asked.

“Computer science, focusing on human & computer interactions.”

“Ooh?! Love me a girly in STEM! These two are comp sci as well! Do you all know each other?” you asked, mostly Seungcheol as Jeonghan was still intent on ignoring you.

“Maybe? You look kind of familiar, but I don’t talk to many people in class,” he chuckled honestly.

“I think we might have a class together?” Hayoung smiled.

“Oh wonderful! You two should exchange numbers too! Maybe you can work on comp sci stuff together,” you suggested. They weren’t really giving you too much to work with, if you were being honest.

“I’d actually love that,” Hayoung’s eyes creased into a smile, “I don’t know that many people in the major.”

“Is it because they’re being sexist?” your eyes widened and you raised a fist theatrically, “I’ll fight them all for you. Cheol, you will too, right? Jeonghan’s not much use in a fight, if I’m being honest,” you commented quietly, glancing at the target of your teasing.

“Sure,” Seungcheol’s face creased into a real smile as he watched you whisper about Jeonghan animatedly.

Hayoung and Seungcheol exchanged phone numbers as you watched on excitedly. Hayoung was clearly pleased, but Seungcheol was making a face as if he had tasted something odd, but was too polite to say anything about it.

“Bina is so cute!” Mingyu remarked happily after they both left, “Lucky you with your cute lab partners!”

“Yeah,” you rolled your eyes at him, “I love doing unpaid babysitting in the lab.”

…

“Cheol, can I crash on your couch?” you spoke after he picked up your call.

“Yeah, of course! Are you okay?” Seungcheol’s brow furrowed, worried.

“Yeah, I’ve just been sexiled,” you grumbled, starting your walk towards Seungcheol’s apartment. He met you about halfway and the two of you caught up on the walk back.

“How are things with Hayoung?” you asked, not quite making eye contact.

“What?” his hand slipped as he was moving to turn the doorknob.

“Hayoung, did you guys ever meet up to work on comp sci together?” you asked, lips pursed as you followed him into his apartment.

“Oh, no, she texted me but I forgot to text her back,” Seungcheol shrugged.

“Text her back, you jerk!” you poked Seungcheol insistently, “Hayoung’s cute! And she likes you.”

“That’s good for her,” Seungcheol grumbled, irritated at your attempt to push him towards someone else. Maybe his cause was truly hopeless.

“You’re acting weird,” you glanced at him oddly before flopping down on the couch.

“No, you take the bed,” Seungcheol ignored your statement and plopped down near your feet, tapping your legs lightly.

“No! I’m not gonna kick you out of your bed!” you protested.

“No, seriously, sleep on the bed. I always wake up before you anyways. I’ll end up waking you up if you sleep out here.”

“I-,” you tried to think of another excuse, but he wasn’t your best friend for no reason. He knew you just as well as you knew yourself. “Okay,” you acquiesced, hopping up from the couch to walk into his room, “Do you need anything from here before bed?” you turned to ask him, hand on the doorframe.

“Nope, I don’t think so.”

“Okay, thanks again for letting me crash,” you smiled at him before pulling the door not quite closed behind you.

Once inside, you dropped your bag and helped yourself to a t-shirt and pair of shorts from Seungcheol’s drawers. You laughed at the way you were swimming in the shirt.

“I look ridiculous,” you laughed, walking back out into the living room. “Cheol, look,” you spread your arms out to your sides, showing Seungcheol the way that his t-shirt just swallowed you.

“I-,” his brain stopped for a few moments. He wouldn’t say anything, but he could in fact see your nipples as you tried to show him whatever you were showing him. “What?”

“Your shirt is too big on me,” you folded your arms over your chest, irritated that he had been listening.

“Oh yeah, well I’m bigger than you,” he replied curtly.

“Well, yeah,” you glanced away from him. He was in such an odd mood today! You grumbled just a little bit before flopping down on the bed. You were tired.

Tossing and turning, you fought for a long time to push down the arousal that was building in your gut. Being enveloped by Seungcheol’s scent was making your brain go haywire. You could feel yourself throbbing and you bit down on your fist in an effort to try and distract yourself, but that hadn’t worked. Glancing nervously at the door, you contemplated seeking some relief, but the idea of doing it in Seungcheol’s bed while he was just outside the door inspired guilt, worry, and worst of all, excitement. 

You managed to ignore yourself for about ten minutes before your left hand snuck down between your thighs, stroking them softly. Sinking deeper into Seungcheol’s pillows, you closed your eyes and imagined your best friend’s hands softly caressing and spreading your legs apart. You were embarrassed to hear the wet sounds of yourself opening up, but not embarrassed enough to stop. Your right hand came to tease the sensitive undersides of your breasts as your fingertips stroked languidly through your folds.

In the living room, Cheol wrestled with whether to disturb you or not. Several minutes ago, he had noticed that one of his textbooks was still in his room. He’d been planning to get ahead on a problem set, so it wasn’t as if he needed to disturb you, but he also didn’t see himself falling asleep anytime soon. Chewing his lip, he noticed that the door was still slightly ajar and decided to retrieve the book as you must not have gone to bed just yet.

When his eyes first landed on your face, your brows were knit up in utter concentration as your hands worked feverishly under the covers. Your front teeth had your lower lip pinned down as you bit back the loudest of your desperate noises. Seungcheol’s pupils dilated as he registered what was happening. Frantically, he tried to back out of the room, but his sweater caught the edge of a pamphlet that had been hanging off the bookshelf, sending a handful of items clattering to the floor.

“Fuck!” your eyes shot open, panicked as you met Cheol’s gaze, “I’m, you-, help!” you squeaked, pulling the covers over your face as you wished to vanish off the face of the earth.

Seungcheol’s mind went blank as he walked towards you, placing his hands over yours to pull down the covers. You peered up at him through your eyelashes, so overcome with embarrassment that you failed to register the look of hunger in his eyes.

“I’m so sorry Cheol, I didn’t, I shouldn’t have done that here!”

“What?” he cocked his head to the side, brain not really functioning.

“It’s your bed!” you looked at him as if he was crazy, “I just-, you smell so good,” you spoke without thinking.

“I…,” he looked you up and down, “You’re telling me I inspired this?”

“Shit, I shouldn’t have said that, oh my god!” you groaned, trying to shrug under the covers again. Seungcheol’s large hands held you still and you watched in disbelief as he brought your left hand up to inspect it. The shine of moisture on your fingers was mortifyingly telling, but he surprised you to your core when he brought your hand to his mouth and sucked your wet fingers inside.

“Huh?!” you choked out, eyes fluttering shut as he tongue stroked between your digits, tasting you thoroughly.

“You should’ve told me about this sooner,” he told you, voice gravely with desire, “I’ve been torturing myself trying to ignore how much I think about you.”

“Oh?” you blinked at him in disbelief.

“Yes, oh,”  Seungcheol rolled his eyes at you, “Now let me help, as you requested.”

His fingers wandered. His eyes widened slightly when he felt just how wet you were. The rumble that emitted from his chest almost sounded like a purr and you found yourself quickly breathless at his ministrations.

“Cheol,” you moaned, melting slightly as his substantially larger fingers swirled dizzyingly through your folds. He smirked down at you, more than pleased to hear your saying his name in that manner.

“So needy,” he chuckled, eyes flicking over you.

“Well I was halfway there when you walked in,” you teased him and his eyes flashed at you, a subtle warning.

He raised one eyebrow at you before sliding his fingers inside of you. You choked on your breath at the intrusion, though your legs parted asking for more.

“You-, your fingers!”

“Mm, how do they feel?” he smirked at you, confident.

“I knew they’d stretch me out, bigger than mine,” you panted and his eyes widened at the realization that this wasn’t the first time you’d imagined this.

“You think about me a lot?” he raised an eyebrow at you, now cocky.

“No,” you lied, glancing away to avoid his eyes.

“My thick fingers spreading you open,” he continued anyways, smirking when he felt the way you reacted around him.

“Seung-,” you whined, overwhelmed at the way he teased you.

“God I like hearing you say my name like that,” Seungcheol shook his head, as if in disbelief. “Can I see you?” he asked, other hand itching to peel back the comforter.

You nodded wordlessly. You were slightly mortified to reveal yourself to him in this way, but his other hand quickly distracted you. You watched his eyes rove across you appreciatively until they trained in on your bruise, his jaw clenching.

“I’ve been thinking about this all week,” he exhaled sharply.

“Why? It wasn’t on purpose!”

“No, it’s not-,” Seungcheol paused. “That’s not why. I was annoyed because the idea of getting to be the one to leave marks on you has rendered me…basically unable to produce coherent thought.”

“Oh? OH,” your eyes widened, gears in your brain turning. “I mean…all yours, Cheol,” you smiled sheepishly at him.

“Really?” he groaned, looking at you appreciatively as he thought about exactly where and how he’d like to mar your skin.

“Seungcheol!” you snapped at him as he continued to mumble to himself.

“Maybe a handprint here?” he grazed your upper thigh with his palm, eyes dancing mischievously at you. “Or a necklace of hickeys,” he growled as he nipped at the base of your neck. He had decided to seize the opportunity to tease you, and as much as you liked it, you only had so much patience.

“Cheol, please,” you pouted, grabbing at his collar, “I can’t take anymore of this.”

“Yes princess,” he pulled an old nickname out of the vault. You melted.

“Mmmpf!” he smothered your next protest with a kiss.

“Seung. Cheol!” you moaned desperately as his hand grabbed your thigh, hard.

The strength in his grip set your nerves alight and your head fell back against the bed, arching your chest up towards him. His mouth took the opportunity to latch onto the underside of your breast, biting down firmly. Your hand fisted itself in his hair.

It was so much sensation. It was so good.

“Hn,” he pulled back with a breathless smile. His eyes flicked down to the spots where his mouth and hand had been and his lips curled into a cocky grin at the bright red marks. With any luck those would be bruised nicely tomorrow.

“That was…a lot,” you murmured as you caught your breath.

“In a bad way?” Seungcheol’s brow furrowed with sudden worry.

“No,” you smiled at him, slightly fuzzy, “In a good way. A really good way.”

“Really?” his eyebrows raised back up with delight. “So you won’t mind if you bruise a little?”

“I don’t think I’ll mind even if you bruise me a lot,” you answered after some thought.

Your best friend’s eyes darkened. The way you had rearranged his words hit the possessive button in his brain like crazy. His lips nibbled and nipped their way down your torso while his hand came to cup your breast. His grip was on the hard side of firm as his lips latched onto a spot on your inner thigh. His tongue stroked across the sensitive skin as he sucked firmly.

Your thighs parted of their own accord as you squirmed at this building onslaught. As you shifted, you could hear the wet sounds of yourself spreading. Open and inviting.

“Cheol, please,” you tried to pull him towards you. “Please,” you panted.

Seungcheol, the bastard, increased the intensity of his sucking before releasing his lips with a loud ‘pop!’. The jolt of the disconnection sent a shiver through you and the spot where his mouth had been now felt woefully cool.

“Pretty,” he looked at the red mark appreciatively. The thought that you would be reminded of this encounter over the next weeks sent a streak of pride through him that was unexpected.

“Seungcheol!” you grabbed his face by his cheeks, directing his attention to you. “If you don’t fuck me right now, I’m going to kick you out and take care of it myself!”

His eyes widened and he chuckled sheepishly before reaching over you to pull a condom out of the nightstand. You watched, almost painfully aroused, as he undressed and unrolled the condom over himself. His cock bobbed proudly as he pulled his sturdy torso over you, slotting himself between your thighs.

You sighed when his cock came to rest against your core. You could already tell it was going to be good.

“Seungcheol, please,” you placed your hands around his jaw. “Need you.”

He nodded, reaching down to slip himself inside of you. A soft gasp escaped you as his head pushed in and you couldn’t help but relish in the stretch. Seungcheol took his time sinking into you. The whines and gasps that you made were way too good to be rushed.

“Cheol,” your hands clutched at the back of his thick neck until he was pressed flush against you. “Fuck,” you exhaled into his ear.

Seungcheol’s hand was gripping your hip so hard as he struggled to keep control of himself. Of all the things that he found overwhelming, the way you pulsed and squeezed around him, the little sounds you made as he had pressed into you…the worst of all was the way you smelled. His hand fisted itself further in your hip as he inhaled you, a most intoxicating scent.

You clenched around him as his hand tightened. He was sure to bruise you there, too, and you couldn’t wait. Knowing that you’d be able to see these marks as evidence that this wasn’t another crush induced dream made you feel crazed in a different way.

“You feel perfect,” Seungcheol groaned against your skin as his hips started to move. “I just knew it.”

Clench.

You hooked your legs around his hips as he pumped into you deeply. Each thick stroke pushed you dangerously closer to the precipice and you were ready to fall off the edge.

“Cheol,” you pulled back slightly to meet his blown out gaze. “I’m there.”

“Go ahead,” he encouraged you, aching to feel you come apart around him. “Be good and come for me.”

Your eyes squeezed shut as you let go. Your hands clutched desperately at his shoulders as your pussy fluttered around him. You didn’t even know what kinds of sounds you made as you simply didn’t have the presence of mind.

“So good,” he smiled, closing his eyes and resting his forehead against yours. “So good,” he grunted before his hips shuddered and he emptied himself inside of you.

You wrapped your arms around his torso as he slumped down on top of you. He smiled when you gave him a squeeze with your entire body.

“So you’re kind of possessive, huh?” you chuckled softly after you’d regained your sanity.

Seungcheol squeezed his eyes shut with a laugh. He hadn’t realized it, or maybe it was just because it was you, but yes. Yes he was.

[reidmotif]

Always Bet on Black

Summary: Reader realizes she has an advantage at the Bureau's Casino Night, when Spencer can't seem to take his eyes off her and her dress.

Prompt: The BAU throws a casino night charity fundraiser. Spencer is a menace. Someone has to find a way to distract him.

Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader

Category: Smut

Content Warning: drinking, gambling (i have never gambled in my life nor have i played poker or blackjack. this will be super apparent in this fic. many apologies), nipple play, oral sex (f!receiving) hickies, Reader POV, unprotected penetrative sex

Word Count: 3.7k

Masterlist

“And that’s another win to the gentleman on my right!”  The dealer announces for what feels like the millionth time that night. There's a shit-eating grin on Spencer Reid’s face as he leans over the blackjack table, wrapping his arms around the hearty stack of chips in an almost in an exaggerated manner, pulling it back towards him much to everyone’s dismay. 

My dismay, especially, because while- yes, this is for charity, and what Spencer’s doing could be characterized as noble in some roundabout way, it was getting a bit repetitive. Spencer was so focused, a thousand times more than anyone else at that table, his brain working a million miles a minute to provide him with the best course of action when it came to gambling.  

And so far? It worked perfectly. While everyone else was taking their chances and betting away, praying that the odds would line up in their favor, Spencer Reid did fucking math, and suddenly the odds were his bitch.  I was beginning to understand why every casino in Las Vegas had him banned now. If he was giving the BAU Casino Night a run for their money like this, I can’t imagine the Bellagio being too pleased with having him either. 

I sighed at the thought, and it seemed Spencer picked up on it, the corners of his lips turning upwards, trying to feign a chagrin expression as he stacked his chips on top of the other. 

“Something wrong, (Y/N)?” He says, looking at me. “Are you not enjoying yourself?” 

Spencer Reid is usually nice, humble, and sweet. In all honesty, I should not be feeling this hostile and sore at the fact that he’d managed to beat me almost every single time we’d played blackjack. My embarrassment was only heightened when I thought of how I’d (stupidly) bragged beforehand that I’d never lost a game in college. 

How quickly my streak was destroyed. 

My pride was bruised, and the man in front of me knew it. 

“I’m enjoying myself just fine.” I say, trying not to grit my teeth as I say the words. 

“You look a bit hot.” He says, referring to my face that had gotten slightly red after the most recent loss I’d taken. “Would you like me to get you a drink?” He asks, his gaze turning less cocky, and more sweet and polite. 

I melt a bit. “Okay. No need to be a sore loser.” I think to myself. “This is a sweet man, and he’s offering you a drink. Yes, he’s destroying you right now and knows it, but it’s not like he’s acting like a complete dick about it.”

I nod at his words, sending a small smile his way. 

“A drink would be great actually.” I finally respond, and he gets up, pushing his chair in. 

“I’ll be right back.” He says, turning away from me, and sauntering towards the bar.

 I take a second to admire him as he walks away, the suit and tie ensemble he picked out for the night complimenting him so well. I’d never say it out loud, considering we were coworkers, but something about seeing him so dapper, so much more.. mature brought out a warm feeling in my stomach, one that made me shift in my seat as I tried to rid myself of thoughts of grabbing him by his tie, placing a hand on his perfectly sculpted jawline, pulling him against me and- no! 

He. Is. Your. Colleague. Snap out of it! 

In lieu of my wandering thoughts, I’d realized I had actually heated up quite a few degrees and in an attempt to combat the sudden body heat, I shrugged off the shawl I’d been donning for most of the night. I felt the cool air hit my exposed shoulders and chest, and relaxed a bit, starting to feel my temperature lower. Right as I did so,  Spencer returned to his seat, holding two drinks. 

I turn towards him, still seated. He’s sitting in his seat, facing towards me as well, and I instinctively reach over to grab the drink in his hand, expecting him to meet me halfway and transfer the cup to me.  But instead of the expected interaction, he seems a bit dazed, an intense expression on his face as he bored his eyes into me, studying me almost. It’s an expression that causes me to raise my eyebrows at him. 

“Spencer?” I say. “Hello?” I wave my hand a bit, trying to break him from his trance. “The drinks?” I add, and that’s what seems to break him out of his preoccupied stupor. He blinks a bit before shaking his head.

“Sorry. Sorry. I spaced out there for a moment.” He says, hastily handing me my glass and turning away completely from me, taking a sip out of his. I can notice a small tremor in his hand as he sets down the liquid on the table, and I’m a bit concerned. He was just fine a moment ago. Did someone say something whilst he was at the bar? Did he choose to ponder some life-changing information as he took his seat at the table? Was he losing it for no reason at all? 

Regardless of what it was, I didn’t have the time to contemplate it further or question him about it because the dealer was beginning to shuffle the deck of cards again. 

As the next game started, there was something fundamentally different about Spencer. He looked  almost panicked, even going as far as to loosen his tie as he played. I thought I’d maybe imagined the changes, until finally, I got a real indicator that something was off. For the first time that whole night- he lost. 

My mouth was agape as the dealer announced the house win, and as I looked between him and the table, he didn’t seem all that fazed, simply shrugging as he attempted to get up. Before he could slip away, I grabbed his arm and brought him a bit closer to me, so that I could speak to him over the sounds of the bustling party around us.

“Spencer- wait. Is something wrong?” I ask, the genuine concern in my tone apparent to anyone who might’ve walked by. 

“Yeah, no. Um. Why wouldn’t it be?” He says, his eyes everywhere except me. It was almost comical. The ceiling tiles couldn’t be that interesting. 

I grip his arm a little harder, urging him to look at me, to talk to me. “You lost! That hasn’t happened all night! Was someone- did something happen? Are you feeling okay?” I ask, my eyes trying to meet his. 

He gulps, finally looking at me. “Statistically, card counting can’t actually work every time so I was bound to lose at some point right?” He says, a little shakily, and despite his words making logical sense, the notion that something was wrong didn’t leave me. 

“You promise?” I say, looking at him as intensely as I possibly could to ensure he wouldn’t try to evade giving me an honest answer. 

He gives his signature, flat smile, nodding. “I’ll be fine. Look. I’m gonna go play some other games. Maybe rack up my luck somewhere else.” 

I lick my lips and finally let go of his arm, nodding. “Have fun.” I say, and he gives me a little wave. 

“You too.” 

For the next hour or so, I found myself dabbling at the other assortment of games offered by the Bureau that night, until yet again, my path crossed with Spencer, who seemed to be on a pretty hefty winning streak- if the stack of chips he’d accumulated wasn’t a clear sign of that already. 

I stood by the table, slightly out of his view,  a little amazed by the way his eyes followed the deck and everyone’s movements so precisely. The level of focus required to do what he was was absolutely no joke, and I couldn’t help but admire in silent awe at the exactness of the whole process. It only made him that much more attractive in that moment, if that was even possible. 

“Royal flush.” He announces, fanning his cards as everyone at the table groans. It’s only then when his gaze meets mine, watching him, and I can observe the signs of a tell-tale blush creeping up his neck. Odd.

“(Y/N)! Hello.” He says, quickly. “Still liking the party?” 

“I am, thank you.” I say, my eyebrows slightly furrowing at how oddly he’s behaving. “Mind if I join the next round?” I ask, already starting to take my seat. 

“Yeah, yeah. Of course.” He says, clearing his throat and turning his entire body away from me. Spencer and I usually got along just fine. There was nothing ever particularly sour about our relationship, and I’d like to think that in the time I’d spent at the Bureau, our shared experiences had brought us closer. However, the way he was acting as of right now, like we were strangers or mere acquaintances threw me off beyond belief. 

It was official, something was off.

I leaned over a little closer, trying to get him to look at me.

“Spencer, I know I’ve already asked but is anything-“ I start, and I can see him glance over, and then almost rapidly turn his gaze away.

“No! Nothing’s wrong. Let’s play.” He rushes out, his words teetering on almost being high pitched. 

It didn’t evade me however, in that short microsecond he took to look at me, his gaze dropped partially down. I internally followed his line of sight to realize that my breasts were practically spilling from my dress. I knew that it was a bit showy, but didn’t think much of it when I’d chosen to wear it for this occasion. The event was black-tie, and so I’d fished out a number I’d haphazardly bought during an online shopping spree. It was black and sparkly, but the main caveat of the dress was the gorgeous bodice in the front, managing to give a good show of cleavage whilst pushing up my breasts and making them all that more appealing to anyone who noticed.  I began to connect the events of the night, realizing that someone clearly had noticed.

Spencer’s losing streak had coincidentally begun once I’d lost the shawl that was once covering my chest. 

An idea slowly entered my head. An experiment, if you will. As we started another game, I barely paid attention as my fingers slid over to what looked like a glass of water on Spencer’s side. 

“Spence?” I murmur, tapping his shoulder.

“Mm?” He asks, not even taking a moment to look away from his cards. 

“Mind if I take a sip from your water?” I ask, keeping my voice saccharine and innocent.

I can see the look he shoots me, his eyes slightly narrowed in surprise but he quickly looks away. “Yeah, um. Sure. Go ahead.” He responds dismissively, as if talking to me for even a second longer would result in him breaking out in hives. 

 Totally out of character. For all the closeness in the world, Spencer Reid would never have shared a glass of water. 

As I began to sip the water, I did something that could be categorized as deeply stupid, but in the name of my experiment, it was absolutely necessary. I slightly tipped the glass, allowing the cool water to run down my neck and drip onto the swell of my breasts. I made a show of getting up, touching my chest to try and rid myself of the moisture that was now coating my breasts. 

“I’m so sorry, Spencer. I’ll get you another glass of water.” I say,letting my breasts bounce a bit as I stand up,  and when he looks at me, it’s more apparent than ever that his eyes aren’t gracing mine anytime soon. Not when I was like this. 

I grinned in secret as I turned around,  quickly bringing over a replacement glass to him, leaning over so that if he were to simply turn his head even slightly to his left, he’d get a direct look at what he simply couldn’t seem to take his eyes or mind off tonight. 

“Uh. Thanks.” He stammers again, shakily drinking the water as he miserably failed at not looking. Bingo. 

When the next round of our game commenced, he lost horrifically, as expected. His mind was in an entirely different dimension, and I couldn’t help but feel a bit of pride, knowing it was me who’d rendered him dumb. So unfocused. So unlike himself. It wasn’t until I felt a tap on my shoulder, noticing Spencer’s hand carrying out the action. 

“Walk with me.” He says, simply. His tone was so sharp and commanding, I found myself listening with no hesitation, following as we moved to a more secluded bit of the party. 

“What are you doing?” He asks in an accusatory tone, his voice a hushed whisper. 

“What do you mean?” I respond, a faux naivete in my words, which he only scoffed at. He leaned in closer, his brows furrowed. I could notice a small vein popping out from his forehead, and the sight only increased the ache I’d begun to feel in my panties since he’d directed me here. 

“You know what I mean.” He says, dangerously. “You’re flaunting yourself.” He adds, his jaw tight. “You know what it’s doing to me. You’re enjoying it.” I could tell he wanted to say so much more, the grit in his tone leading me to believe there were some much cruder words he wished to utter to me.

 Regardless, the authority in his tone only spurred me to try and resist. It was so hot watching him like this. Maybe a bit fucked up to say that, but it didn’t matter in that moment. I only wanted to test the limits. To see the new man I could bring out in Spencer Reid tonight. 

“So what if I am?” I say, biting my lip. “It’s a party, Spencer. We’re all having fun, aren’t we?” 

“No.” He responds, darkly. “I’m not having fun.” 

A proposal came to mind. One I knew that would pan out deliciously, since I’d now gotten a look into his extensive lust tonight, and just how desperate he seemed. I leaned forward to whisper to him, my lips teasing the outer shell of his ear. 

“Win another game, and I’ll show you just how much fun you could be having.”

He immediately pulls back. His eyes narrow, and I can see the weight of my words course through his mind, evaluating the odds of my statement before clicking his tongue. 

“See you in 30 minutes.” is his response, as he walks away, beckoning me to follow him to yet another Blackjack table. I grin, sitting beside him. 

My presence doesn’t seem to phase Spencer whatsoever this time around, his laser-point focus uninterrupted even as I stared shamelessly at him. It wasn't until the game seemed to be reaching its turning point, in which Spencer had to decide whether drawing or staying would bring forth a better outcome for him. I watched as he mulled over the decision for a few seconds before his eyes locked onto mine, gaze intense. 

“Draw.” He voices, not even paying mind as the dealer announced his win. 

Spencer gets up without a word, and I can see him head towards a hallway that houses a few restrooms in the building. 

“Sir- your winnings!” The dealer calls out, but I smile apologetically, starting to follow Spencer to a more secluded area of the party.

“Sorry. He’s probably a bit preoccupied. I’ll let him know!” I respond, already turning around and making my way to the same hallway Spencer had gone down, finding the bathroom and opening it. I knew Spencer would be there, but what I didn’t expect was to be pulled into his arms, greeted by Spencer’s lips insistently pressing against mine, his free hand clutching the back of my head, as his other hand went to click the lock into place. I responded with a momentary bout of shock, but quickly found myself melting into his touch, wrapping my arms around his neck. 

“You like watching me lose, is that it?” He whispers harshly, in between kisses. I can feel the anger, the lust and passion, all rolling into one as his lips meet mine, over and over again, creating the sweetest of sensations that wracked my whole body. 

“Mm. Not just you losing. You losing because you’re distracted. Because of me.” I say, my tone a bit dazed and breathy from the intensity he was putting me through. 

“Can you blame me?” He murmurs, his lips now trailing down my neck, paying close mind to a particular spot on the side that left my knees weak. “You wear this dress and expect me to not take my eyes off of you?” 

His hot breath grazes over my skin and I can feel myself shiver. I’m completely overwhelmed by him. The feel of his hands caressing the small of my back and waist, his smell of his cologne wafting around me. I can only breathe unsteadily, and hold onto him, a needy whimper slipping past my lips. 

“Shh. You’re okay. I got you.” He murmurs. His tone was sweet, soothing, but his actions were anything but, as his fingers slipped around to find the zipper on my dress. 

In an instant, his mouth was finally all over my breasts, his mouth leaving a few marks on the expanse of my chest before his tongue began to sweep over my nipples, swirling around the raised bud, leaving me grappling to his shoulders, as more moans poured out from within me. 

“You like that?” He breathes against my skin, and I nod, frantically. I’d never expected to go this weak, but he was so much more skilled with his mouth than I’d ever expected.

“Please. Keep going.” I moan, and I can feel his hands on my thighs, urging me into his arms. I comply, and can feel myself be lifted to the bathroom counter, his hands squeezing the fat of my hips before dropping to his knees. His fingers looped around my underwear, and I attempted to move in a way that would aid him in their removal. As soon as they were off, he stuffed them into his pocket, and moved to lift my dress up, his face disappearing into my now spread legs. 

And suddenly he was everywhere, tongue swiping over my clit in rapid motions, flicking against me in a way that had me immediately squeezing my thighs around his face, to which Spencer responded by pushing them apart, leaving me shaking. 

“Oh god, Spencer. Oh-” I moan, over and over again, my hand gripping onto the strands of his hair. My eyes squeeze shut as I feel my orgasm rapidly approaching, my legs trembling more than ever. 

“Spencer- I’m gonna-” I groan out, my grip tightening, and I look down, watching him devour me with so much precision and focus, the same I’d seen during his playing all night. I watched as his eyes met mine, his lips sucking around my clit and in a fit of moans, I found myself releasing all over his tongue, my body shuddering as he worked me through my orgasm, moaning against my core. 

He rose from his knees and planted a long, deep kiss on my lips, and I moaned as I tasted myself on him. My hands started to go for his belt, desperate to feel this man inside me. As soon as his cock was freed from the confines of his briefs, I guided him towards my entrance, gasping as I felt him push into me, immediately filling me up. I breathed in sharply from the pleasure of the sensation, my eyes screwing shut before opening them to see his eyes staring back at me. He gave me a moment to adjust, watching my face for any sign of discomfort, but there was none, only the carnal desperation I felt for this man. I nodded to let him know I was ready,  and suddenly, like a man possessed, he began to jut his hips towards mine, causing me to whimper and dig my nails into his back. 

He moaned as he slammed into me, over and over again, while his mouth kissed at my neck, at my jaw, my lips, murmuring my praises over and over again. 

“I’ve wanted this for so long.” He groans, my hips firmly gripped by his large hands, keeping me from slipping off the counter. “And that dress. Fuck. God, I want you.” 

I nod, too overwhelmed with pleasure to even speak, rather opting to moan his name and nod furiously. 

He kept one hand on my hip, while the other trailed down to where we were joined, and began to rub fast, hard circles over my already sensitive bud, the action causing me to gasp out and open my eyes, letting him know that my second release of the night was inevitable. 

“You wanna cum, pretty girl?” He mumbles, keeping his voice low and his fingers diligent on my clit. 

“Please,” I sob out, my voice breaking with just how much I needed this right now. How much I needed him. 

“Come for me.” He murmurs, and as if under a spell, I do, coming undone rapidly in his grasp, my head falling against his shoulder as he continues the movement of his hips until I feel him still, and then spill into me, his breath heavy and chest heaving. 

I pull back, my forehead meeting his as he stares at me in a bit of a trance, our breaths mingling as we both came down from what had just happened. 

“I think.. you should probably cover up.. after that.” He murmurs, grinning a bit at the wide array of marks he’d just left on my neck and chest, undeniably exposing us. 

“Right you are.” I giggle back, leaning in for another kiss.  This time sweeter, softer.

I was definitely wearing this dress again for him.

  hello!! oh my god!! it has been so long since i've posted a fic. finals are over! i am free! i promise we will be back to a more normal schedule now (can i do weekly fics? who knows. i'll try). as usual, thank you for any and all reblogs, likes and comments. it's been a long time since i've even thought about writing, so i hope this is up to everyone's standards. this was written for @imagining-in-the-margins office party challenge. so, you know. look at the other fics there too! sorry for clearly not knowing anything about card games. also also, just a fun fact. i envisioned readers dress being meredith grey's prom dress from s2ep27.. hehe. okay, i've already talked enough. thank you thank you thank you for reading and supporting!!!

[tencrushesperday]

Blood runs thicker than water

pairing : matt rempe x hughes!reader

warnings : angst, and some description of bruises, sort of forbidden lovers, 1k

a/n : instead of studying for my exams next week i do this, i was listening to The water is fine by Chloe Ament and felt inspired

You wanted to stay until the end of the match. You wanted to congratulate your brothers on the win. You wanted to party with the team after such a huge win against their rivals.

But the blood was pounding in your ears and you didn’t know what to do with your hands. The crowd was so loud. Jack’s last conquest and Bratt’s girlfriend were chatting next to you. Yet you were feigning interest in the game to ignore them. Even though you could barely focus your sight.

Luke had gotten into an unnecessary fight during second period and Jack was right there to back him up. Both were okay. But the other guy wasn’t.

As soon as the second intermission started you excused yourself to the restroom then texted Nicole on your way to your car saying that suddenly you weren’t feeling good.

Fortunately, you’ve driven down this road so many times you didn’t have to focus to get home because suddenly you were in your apartment. You were on autopilot the whole time doing your night routine and then you were in your bed trying to fall asleep.

Sleep wouldn’t come. Every time you closed your eyes you would see him taking hit after hit. Him struggling to get up. His bloody face.

Then you heard keys turning in the lock and the front door shutting. You got up from your bed and marched out of your room, ready to send one of your bothers home.

“Matt”, you stopped dead in your tracks right outside your bedroom door.

There he stood, in front of the entrance, cheeks bruised, lip cracked.

“I’m sorry”, he only managed to whisper it.

He wanted to say a thousand other things but everything was pointless and painful. Looking at you was painful. Nothing was more appropriate than “sorry”.

He was the one who hit first. Even though Luke asked for it. He chirped Matt’s girlfriend without even knowing it was his own sister and Matt couldn’t let it slide. He also couldn’t tell Luke the truth.

The truth being you weren’t even his girlfriend.

You were just hooking up, keeping it casual, secret.

He would have loved it, have it been any other girl.

But he was so desperately in love with you. He wanted to hold your hand and take you on dates and have you cheering on him at his game. He loved waking up next to you and the casual evenings you spent at each other’s apartments, watching a movie, cooking together and telling each other about your days. He loved when you talked about hockey and he would promise you to take you play again, like when you used to do when you were younger. He even loved the stupid reels and tiktok’s you would send him in the morning on your commute to work because then he knew that you thought about him.

However, it has never gotten out of your apartments. His promise to take you to the rink to play hockey together was never fulfilled.

That he hated.

You kept looking at him. You couldn’t sleep because you kept seeing him getting hurt. But now that he was actually in front of you and even in the dim light coming in from the street you could see the bruises.

Not breaking eye contact you get closer to him as he silently takes off his shoes. He knows the rules in your home. He has a spare key. He knows you inside and out and he still can’t call you his and that’s worse than any hit from your brother, he thinks to himself.

“You left before third period.” He wants to wrap his arms around you and feel the warmth of your body to forget the cold of the ice.

You look at him before taking his hand and leading him to the kitchen. “So did you.”

You drop his hand and reach for two glasses in your cupboard.

He watches your every movement and anticipates your every word. You’re too calm but he knows there’s a storm brewing inside of you. You always go quiet when you’re upset and feeling too much. He knows that growing up with three brothers toughened you up and that, even if you���re working on it, subconsciously you still think that showing emotion is a weakness. Still he awaits your next words and actions. You have him wrapped around your finger so tight he almost wants to laugh at his poor situation.

You turn on the tap and let the water running until it’s at the right temperature before filling up your glass.

Matt can’t wait anymore. His patience thins with every drop of water. It’s pouring out of the faucet and going down the drain.

He’s right behind you when you turn around. You wanted to ask him if he wants water but your words die in your throat. He looks even worse up close. If you weren’t holding in your breath you would have sobbed at the sight.

Despair fills his eyes when you look up to him. He crashes his lips on yours and you can taste it right there.

You’re not mad he fought Luke. You know how it is on the ice, you know how Luke can be a little shit when chirping, you know how Matt can fly off the handle in such a situation.

You taste a metallic taste in your mouth as the slit on his lip cracks open at the fierceness with which he kissed you.

It doesn’t matter who he fought, he’s hurt and that’s what upsets you.

The metallic taste mixes with the saltiness of the tear that slid down your cheek. He catches the next one with the thumb that is caressing your skin, as he cradles your face.

Your fingers run through his hair. You can’t let him go. You tug him closer. You can’t tell your bothers. Not now. Every thought in your head contradicts the previous one. His other arm is wrapped around your whole body and pulls you impossible closer. You’re caught up in such a mess, one you made yourself.

But for tonight you’ll kiss Matt even harder. You’ll take care of his bruised lip. You’ll kiss the pain away.

Leaving the mess for tomorrow morning.

[artinvain]

Toxic bff Abby that denies she is in love with you but is extremely possessive over you and basically treats you like her gf, but still fucks other girls imagining you; getting jealous seeing ANYONE else come near you. NEED IT PLS

toxic!bff!abby x reader

Abby’s so insecure and she lets it rule everything she does. she can't seem to get it right -- more plot and angst than i intended. lesbian smut under the cut - men and minors dni

*ੈ✩‧₊˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚*ੈ✩‧

it happens every time. abby gets drunk when you have a fight and does something stupid to forget about you. she could see you dancing up against her from the rival basketball team. and although abby would usually rip you from their arms and dance with you herself — feel your ass grind up against her crotch, let you control where her hands went as you dance — she can’t do that tonight.

abby had seen you at the bar for the pre-party, the girl you’re with buying you drinks, resting her hand on your thigh, inching ever so close to your face and leaning in for a kiss, and abby seethed with every brush of your lips. finally seeing red when you get down from your bar stool to stand between her legs.

abby could see the girl you were with now and it coloured her vision crimson. ellie fucking williams. of all people you could flirt with. abby had to think you were being vindictive — trying to get back at her for when she ditched you to get with tammy instead of take you to an art gallery like she’d promised for weeks.

It wasn’t completely her fault although abby could come up with a million excuses to absolve herself but the prevailing one would always be that she was a fucking coward. it felt too much like a date. a real date that she wants to take you on — not as her friend. but abby couldn't stand the thought of you rejecting her.

she could see it so vividly in her head -- you turning away from her, your face contorted in distaste "but abby, we're just friends." you would say "i could never see you like that." and abby would understand. because you were too good for her -- too smart, funny, kind, you gave her too many chances because your heart is so big. abby didn't deserve someone who could colour the world and scrub out the black and white monotony of every day life.

abby didn't realise she was gripping your arm so tight it could be bruising, she'd been glowering down at ellie, seething and her mouth practically foamed with her hard ragged breaths. "the fuck is wrong with you anderson?" ellie snarls, abby twists her mouth and "you, are all over my best friend,"

"and you're best friend -- who is right here -- is fine with it," you snatch your arm from abby's grip. you couldn't even fight her at this point. she was colder to you recently, she sold you excuses for her distance, came to your apartment still dewy and smelling like someone else. she'd been rubbing it in your face that she wanted nothing to do with you. you ignored that she didn't reply when you'd casually told her you loved her after she dropped you off at home last week. but you couldn't keep walking into apartment as other women walked out past you, a drunken smile plastered on their faces. she did this every few weeks and you were sick of it, but this time was worse than usual.

"go hang out with tammy or whoever," you back into ellie rubbing your arm and abby swallowed, her eyes catching yours -- hollow as they'd never been when looking at her. but just last week you had told her you loved her. could that change so quickly? had she gone too far? abby's fists clenched, bouncing on her weak knees.

"I- we need to talk," abby says without thinking and she immediately wanted to punch herself.

'talk about what?' abby thought to herself, she could never tell you that she loved you back, that more than that she worshipped you. she could neve tell you that every time she looked at you -- she fought not to let her face heat up. abby couldn't tell you that her chest puffed up with pride that she could call you -- something so precious hers. her best friend. you are the only person she ever wanted to be around really.

"I'm leaving," you say with a deep breath as ellie puts a few paper bills on the bar counter, one in the tip jar and slides her hand onto the small of your back. "get yourself together. i'll see you later maybe."

now abby had to watch you dance with ellie, smiling with your arms draped over should shoulders while ellie whispered in your ear. she downed her shot and then decided not to beat ellie up because she didn't want to be benched the entire season. so, instead she put her jacket on and approached you with her head hanging low.

your movements halt as abby stands near the both of you, "can we talk?" abby asks, her watery blue eyes slowly rising to meet yours. you sigh and turn to kiss ellie's cheek goodnight before leading abby out of the house and down the street.

"I'm really sorry," abby says as you walk slow into the crisp autumn evening.

"for what abby?"

"everything," she shrugs and tries a chuckle but coughs awkwardly when you glare at her. "so, you don't have anyone to take home tonight?" you question and abby sighs, running her hands over her face. "come on, don't be like that," abby says and stops in front of her truck opening the passenger door for you.

"I'm not getting in unless you tell me what you're sorry for."

abby groans, clenching her jaw and resting her hands against her bumper, leaning on it and ducking her head.

"I'm sorry I've been such a sloppy asshole this week. I'm sorry i tried to make you jealous and I'm sorry that I didn't reply when you said it. because I should have."

you know what abby is talking about but god, she can't even say it. it fucking wrecks you because she doesn't value you enough to even tell you what you mean to her, if you mean anything at all. you start to walk past her, "hey wait, oh my god -- I love you!"

abby yells, her mouth parts but no other words come to her. she swallows thickly when you turn around, the tears on your face matching hers.

"I'm sorry I'm a fucking idiot and I didn't tell you sooner but i don't love you like a friend. I am in love with you, okay? and - and I'm a shitty person and I don't wanna mess us up,"

abby can't stand your silence but when she looks up, there you are. standing so close to her she can feel your warm breath on her cheeks.

"do you promise to at least give us a chance?"

abby, cups the back of your neck and presses a soft kiss to your mouth as her answer, pulls your body flush to her so she can lean over you and lick into your mouth. moan as you suck on her tongue.

"m'sorry, so sorry sweetheart," abby whispers in between kisses as she feels your tears on her cheeks, "let me make it up to you."

abby drives you not far down the road to her place, her hand on your all the time, pressing kisses to your knuckles until she shuts the door behind you and kisses you again, this time her hands going down to your ass, gripping and squeezing, her mouth beginning to pepper kisses up and down your neck.

you whine when abby backs you into the hallway of her loft, behind the kitchen wall ands falls on top of you on her bed. "i swear to god, everything will be different," abby moans, as you grip her hand and bring it to your breast, where she takes the liberty to start pressing kisses to your chest, removing your clothes feverishly. you whine as she pulls away from you, catching her breath.

"do you not?" you ask shakily and abby cups your cheek.

"i do, i do. i just wanted it to be different. I didn't want to be fighting with you." abby whimpers when you grip her and pull her close so she's laying on top of you. "then, show me it'll be different."

abby takes her time lathering you chest when she removes your bra, kissing your tits and moaning as she sucks your nipples into her mouth, her hips starting to falter against you thigh. no matter how many women she'd been with. she never could get off. she didn't feel much of anything unless she thought of you, played your three words over and over again in her mind. but now, now she had the real thing and she's too desperate stop herself.

she flicks her fingers over your wet nipples, "so fucking pretty," she whines against you, massaging your tits and sucking marks between your chest as she pulls them close to her chest, moaning and grinding down on your hips going again to suck and swap nipples to wet and play with while your hips started to buck against hers.

"shit fuck, m'gonna cum, fuck i'm so sorry," she's utterly embarrassed, hides her face in your neck and she whines loudly, her fingers still playing with your nipples as she cums. you gasp and chuckle, unbelievably wetter at watching her cum just from sucking on your tits.

"i'm so fucking sorry-" "for what? for feeling good?" you mumble and press a kiss to her mouth, guiding her hand between the two of you so she can feel how wet she's making you, "always been a mess f'me," she groans, her fingers starting to circle your clit, hearing you moan she ducks her head into your neck again to kiss and mark you.

"i love you," abby moans as her fingers dig into your panties and start to slide into you, your gummy, wet walls inviting her in. "christ, you're so wet," she moans and she kisses down your torso and removes your shorts and panties, her mouth latching to your clit and she starts moaning, licking and twist her head so she's making circles on your clit while her fingers curl and fuck into you.

"fuck, abby! yes, yes please more," you yelp, your legs falling open and abby pulls them over her shoulders licking the wetness around her fingers in your cunt and groaning as she does so at your taste, another finger twisting into your sweet pussy she can't help but grin against you, licking and lapping at your clit, as you cum, her thumb coming to circle it instead.

"you look so pretty all fucked out f'me," she moans, pressing a hand down on your belly and fucking her fingers deeper, moaning at the way your mouth falls open, and your legs start to shake, "i love you, i fucking love you baby," she whines and you're spurting against her hand, licking up over your clit and sucking it, your taste filling her mouth.

"swear i'm gonna be better, i promise," abby says as she gently caresses you, cupping your cheek and rubbing her hands over your body. abby silently presses a sticky kiss to your temple and disappears as you catch your breath.

"haven't used it with anyone else," abby assures you when you look at her strap on quizzical and yet biting your lip as she clambers over you. "you're everything to me, i'm so sorry for everything," abby says as she lines herself up with you, her strap already covered in lube. you nod when abby hovers over you and she sighs when she finally sinks into you, your eyes crossing at the way it curls perfectly into your gspot, the ridged cock stimulating every part of your pussy.

"was saving this for you- fuck," she whimpers as the strap starts to vibrate against her and you whine loudly as it tremors inside you. "wanted to feel this good with you and you only" she moans gasping into your mouth as you press her close when abby starts to fucking into you.

you're both so overstimulated it doesn't take much of her deep, wet thrusts until you're crying against her shoulder, biting into it as you both cum again. you push abby out at the pain of the overstimulation and she rips the strap off of her in the same manner, turning it off.

after abby rocks you both to sleep, she's woken by her phone ringing, at reading the caller ID she moves into her bathroom, pressing a kiss to your shoulder and whispering into the phone.

"i fucking told you not to call," abby whispers, turning over to look at your sleeping form under her sheets.

"no, tammy -- enough. I'm done fucking around," she groans and near hangs up until tammy whispers something over the line, something you can't quite make out, all you can hear is.

"jesus christ, okay, I'll be over soon."

"where are you going?" you ask as abby gets dressed, "tammy-" "are you fucking serious?" you chuckle in disbelief pulling your clothes on in a hurry.

"no, you don't understand -- wait!" abby calls as you pick your jacket up from off the floor and shuffle your shoes on.

"I'm done waiting for you abby. you couldn't even last a day."

"please, stay -- i just, you don't understand," abby pleads, holding onto your forearm.

"then explain,"

abby fumbles for something, anything. you weren't supposed to hear anything, you were supposed to stay asleep. abby just needed to be gone a few hours, she just needed to take care of things with tammy one last time and then she was yours. she just wanted to make sure.

"so, you're not sure you love me?" you roll your eyes as abby rubs her face in her hands.

"if i stay, abby, what does that say about me?" you sniffle and snatch your arm from her grip for the last time today.

"i hope you get what you're looking for anderson," you nod and pull your phone out of your pocket, texting ellie to pick you up if she was still awake.

ellie: be there in 2 mins.

"see you around," you purse your lips and close the door behind you, your ears rushing with blood so loudly you can't hear abby breaking into sobs behind the door.

tags: @lesbian-useless @sexysapphicshopowner @iamaboringrattat @sapphicsgirl @bimboprincezz @abbysprettygiiirl

[cheriladycl01]

It All Happened so Fast - Grid x Ferrari Reader

Plot: Y/N has someone enter her hotel room after the grand prix and threaten to rob her, after not answering her phone, some of the drivers come to her rescue. Done in the style of a podcast/interview.

Warning: This had dark themes, of abuse, kidnapping (kind of?), SA etc

Credit to makeagif for the GIF :)

"And tonight we have Y/N with us on the podcast! And we'll be learning the truth about what happened at French Grand Prix, now that she's finally ready to speak up about what happened!" he says as you walk out, your hands were clammy from the build up of sweat on them and the lights all felt a little too bright.

"Hello, Zach how are you?" you smile to the podcaster, taking a seat in the purple studio on scotting so you were next to the cushion.

"I'm good, I'm good and how are you doing, despite everything that happened?" he asks looking over you, making sure you were okay.

"Yeah, you know I took a blow and speak to a therapist about everything but ultimately I'm back in the car and doing what I love most!" you nod, explaining how you'd not gone to the next race after the incident because of a bruised rib.

"So talk us through that day, start to finish!" he smiles and you nod, feeling safe and comforted to talk in his presence.

"It was a pretty normal day, it was just after qualifying had finished and I was celebrating with Charlie" you smile. You remembered getting your first pole position with Ferrari that year having taken over from Carlos who had made the move to Audi.

You were so happy, jumping in the arms of the crew and Fred who'd become like a father to you before finding comfort in Charles, who wasn't Charles to you but Charlie. He was your big brother around the paddock, most of them were.

"Congrats gorgeous!" he grins hugging you tightly. Alex, his girlfriend came running over, pulling you away from Charles into a big hug of her own. Alex had become like your big sister and you'd kind of become attached to her in your time in the paddock. She'd let you borrow her clothes, which Charlie didn't like as he thought they were way too mature for a young girl like you, which you'd argued against many times. You got ready with Alex in your rooms, and even travel together in the off seasons. And don't even get started on the Leclerc family who had practically adopted you after becoming Charles partner.

"Thank you Charlie! We had a great drive today! A front row lock out for us!" you cheese excitedly looking around the paddock, locking your eyes on anyone else who you could exclaim your happiness too.

"I think Lando is over there!" he smiles pointing out your paddock crush. You'd had a crush on Lando ever since he came to see you race in F2, when you started to get noticed by the likes of Ferrari and other F1 teams.

You rush over, seeing him talking to Jon and Oscar who was with his girlfriend Lily.

"Hey guys!" you grin at the two boys, and they both smile back to you, Oscar and Lily pulling you into a joint hug first and then letting go of you so Lando could kiss your cheek and pull you into a hug.

"You did amazing today!" he smirks one corner of his mouth raising and a blush coming onto your face.

You sat in the studio thinking of how Lando had made your heart flutter like crazy!

"I think after we all were celebrating qualifying with my team and everyone else we were all leaving, discussing the plans for that night" you admitted thinking back to what happened in the build up.

"Yeah, we have pictures of you here celebrating with your team-mate Charles Leclerc and his girlfriend Alexandra, Lewis and a few others" he says flicking all of the pictures he had saved of you in the paddock celebrating your qualifying result.

"So, if i've got the story right? You were invited to dinner with some of your friends correct?" he asked.

"There was talk of all of us going out that night, it was my first pole position and everyone was very proud of me and they wanted to celebrate it. Obviously, for this specific race there aren't many hotels in the area so majority of the drivers stay at the same hotel close to the track for ease. So in my hotel there was Charles, me, Daniel Ricciardo, Max Vertsappen, Lewis Hamilton, George Russell, Lando Norris, Oscar Piastri, Carlos Sainz, Alex Albon, Liam Lawson, Yuki Tsunoda and Pierre Gasly and that was supposed to be the group that went out!" you offer and he looks over you.

"Supposed to be?" he asks, looking at his notepad and you nod.

"So, Alex chose the place we were going and it was sort of a bar, sort of joint... when Lando and a few others looked at the menu they didn't fancy it so Max, Daniel, Charles, Carlos, Lando and Oscar all decided to pick their own place. I didn't want the plans to change so i stayed with Alex, Lewis, George, Liam, Yuki and Pierre. By the time we got to the bar there was security out and because I was the only one under the drinking age in the states I was refused" you laugh thinking it was sort of funny.

"Wait so they said you weren't allowed into the bar because of the drinking age?" he repeats making sure he had all the information correct.

Thinking back, the whole interaction was kind of funny.

"Yeah sorry, your underage you cant go in" the security guard says handing you back your ID.

"What?" you chuckle, the security knew who you were, i mean come on you were stood in front of Lewis Hamilton.

"Sorry, bar rules" he says with a frown before nodding for Lewis to go in.

"Mate come on, look none of us are here to drink... we're all driving tomorrow and we just want to take our girl out for a celebratory meal" Lewis smiles ruffling your hair making you giggle.

"Sorry man, no is a no. Even for you" he sighs, getting bored of the groups antics and how they are holding up the line.

"No come on I'm not having this, the whole reason we are here is because of her. We arent going in if she isn't allowed!" Lewis argues before George and Liam join in.

"Alright, either you can go in without her or we're all kicking you out right now" the head of security says coming out making you sigh and grab onto Lewis' arm.

"I'm just going to go, I hope you guys have fun but I don't want you guys to not go out for food because of me!" you sigh stepping to one side.

"No Y/N! The whole reason we are out tonight is because of you!" Lewis whines a little wanting everything to be perfect.

"Well half the group already bailed and went somewhere else so it's no issue!" you giggle.

"But where will you eat!" George asks.

"Look, I'll be bad and treat myself to a Maccies, but you cant tell anyone. Especially not Joris or Maggie, they'll have my head!" you say and after a lot more convincing you were let go.

Looking back you had no idea leaving by yourself was probably the worst decision you ever made.

"So you walked back to the hotel alone, that correct?"

"Well, i got myself a McDonalds first which was hilarious because there was so many fans that spotted me in there and I think that was the start of where everything went wrong. People quickly realized where I was and that I was alone with no security or team. I took a few pictures but left for the hotel very quickly" you explain softly, loving the interactions you got with your fans that night.

"And once you were in the hotel, what were you doing?" he prompted.

"Well, I got in immediately and I actually had someone from the hotel walk up with me, I'd felt strange the whole way home and just wanted someone to make sure i got up there okay"

"And by feeling strange, like you were drunk and been spiked?" he asks with his head cocking to his side.

"Mmm no just that I didn't feel alone, even though i was. I felt like my steps were being followed but I couldn't see anything. It was dark and I thought it must just be the paranoia, but the hotel staff were so helpful and took me to my room. The two members of staff actually looked around my whole room before leaving me alone!" you say, knowing the hotel did everything in their action to make sure you were safe.

"So you got in and you ate your food I'm presuming, what did you have?" he chuckles, everyone knew how much you loved a McDonalds.

"A wrap and a cheeseburger, I know bad but I was solo celebrating!" you chuckle.

"That sounds so good right now!" he luaghs before silencing to let you continue with your story.

"After that it was getting late and I wanted to be as prepared as possible for the next day so I got into the shower, where I didn't hear the door unlatch. I just remember rinsing the shampoo out my eyes and seeing him standing there watching me!" you gulp nervously getting onto the scary bit of the story.

"He was in the bathroom already, at this point?" he asks his eyes wide.

It was scary, you'd just finished really scrubbing the sweat and helmet grease out of you hair, you rubbed your eyes making sure they wasn't anything that was going to sting them in their before opening them.

It took you by so much shock to see the black silhouette in the bathroom, you grabbed the towel hoping it was Charles or Lando, at least someone you knew. But it was him, the man that kept you in fear of hotels.

"What the fuck!" you cried wrapping the towel around you, you couldn't see his face right now, his face was covered by the steam of the shower and his black and red Ferrari cap.

He was a fan, which made you want to cry more.

"Your gonna be quiet, yes beautiful?" he asks showing you the gun on his waist band.

You nodded not wanting to aggravate him.

Before you knew it he grabbed you out the shower by your arm. Forcing you onto the sofa in your room, at this point you'd started to cry. He hit you so hard, you bruised a rib and sprained your wrist.

"I cant imagine the panic you felt" Zach sighed comfortingly as you nodded.

"Yeah, i mean there was moments where i thought, this is it, I'm not going to come out of this alive" you sighed before continuing your accounts.

He asked you the code for the safe, which you told his straight away, he started going through all of your stuff, you didn't care about the loose cash or anything else but when he pulled out the expensive Cartier necklace Lando got you for your birthday you started to sob harder.

"Please, not that!" you cry out loudly making his head flick over to you, rage on his face.

"Mmmm from your boy Lando right?" he grins evilly and you cry more.

"GET ON THE BED!" he screamed at you and you looked at him in shock.

"What?" you asked.

"Are you stupid? I said to get on the fucking bed!" he screamed out again making you whimper and cry more from the shock as you got up onto the bed, sitting on the edge.

"Fuck, I'm not even sure I want to know where this goes!" Zach sighs after taking a sip of his drink. You explain how he had started to touch you, and you were practically naked on the bed.

"I was just going to suck it up, the gun was the scariest thing and I couldn't help but think that Charles would probably be the one to come in and find me..." you admitted, knowing it was one of the scariest moments.

"It was one of those moments where you know they talk about fight flight or freeze, ask anyone and they'll tell you I fight, no matter what but I just froze because of the circumstances..." you attempt to say without messing up.

"And before stuff got to bad?" he asks.

"I had my boys to rely on" you smile softly.

Charles had the spare room key to his room, and when he, Lando Max and Daniel were coming back and heard yelling through the door, they needed to see if you were okay!

"Y/N!" you heard Charles through the door, the guy currently fondling you looked up in shock. Charles and the rest of them rushed into the room. Max was the first to throw a punch at the guy, pretty much getting him onto the floor. Charles started to cover you up while Daniel called hotel security and Lando called the police. Charles was holding onto you as you shook, sobbing and gasping for short little breaths.

"Hey hey it's okay!" Lando says seeing you and your panicked state.

"Let's get him outta here!" Daniel says kicking his shin.

"Necklace!" you gasp out, looking over Lando's eyes and he cocks his head to one side in confusion before understanding what you meant.

Lando jumped off the bed, searching the guy's pockets until he pulled your necklace out.

"Scumbag!" he'd told him as Max and Daniel hauled the guy out of your room.

Lando came back, holding you on the other side of Charles forcing you into a sort of sandwich.

"So what happened with the rest of the night?" Zach asked pulling your mind back into the studio room.

"There was a lot of crying, lot of police. I only told the police about my injuries so they could take pictures for the report. And i somehow drove the next day, still came in P1 and stood on that podium until I fainted. I was of course pulled from the next race because i'd worsened my injuries by driving... but it was worth it for the win!"

"Woah, that truly is an incredible story!" Zach smiles, pulling you into a hug which you gladly accept.

Taglist:

@littlesatanicassholebitch @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @stupidandunnecessary @clayra-g @daemyratwst @honey-belden @moonypixel @lauralarsen @vader-is-hot @ironcowboycopnickel @itsjustkhaos @the-untamed-soul @beebo86 @happylittlereader @ziejustme @lou-larcher5 @thewulf @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @chillyleclerc @chanthereader @annoyingmoonballoon @summissss @evieepepi08 @havaneseoger08 @celesteblack08 @gulphulp @fandom1ruined2me @celebstories @starfusionsworld @jspitwall @sierruhh @georgeparisole @dakotatankbig @youcannotcancelquidditch @zzonsbeek @tallbrownhairsarcastic @mellowarcadefun @ourteenagetragedy @otako5811 @countingstacksandpanicattacks @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @hopexcroc @mirrorball-6 @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @bigsimperika @blueberry64857959 @eiraethh @lilypadlover @curseofhecate @alliwantisadonut @the-fem1n1ne-urge @21stcenturytaegi @dark-night-sky-99 @i-wish-this-was-me @tallrock35 @butterfly-lover @barnestatic @landossainz @darleneslane @barcelonaloverf1life @r0nnsblog @ilove-tswizzle @kapsylia @laneyspaulding19 @lazybot @malynn @cassielikereading @viennakarma @landosgirlxoxo @marie0v @jlb20416 @yourbane @teamnovalak @nikfigueiredo @fionaschicken @0picels0 @seomako @urdad-hot @tinydeskwriter @ironmaiden1313 @splaterparty0-0 @formula1mount @styl1shl1v

[hairmetal666]

Eddie's supposed to be writing. The guys, they all agreed they'd each come to practice armed with two whole new songs they could pick from to add to their set list at the Hideout. And he's got his pen, and he's got his most recent trusty Composition Book, and all his lyrics are fucking bullshit about golden tanned skin and honeyed eyes and tracing constellations in freckles and moles, pathetic lines about being twisted in bed sheets, and the hopeless love he found himself in.

For the fifth time in an hour, he rips out the offending page, crunches it into a tight ball, and throws it across the room.

He can't write about Steve Harrington for the rest of his life; spend his nights aching for the boy who established himself as a fixture in Eddie's life and then just disappeared.

The worst of it--the very worst--is that Eddie knew better. Steve was never his, not in any real way, no matter how many times they fucked. He's Steve Harrington. Straightest guy in Hawkins. Popular. Rich. Whole fucking life laid out for him on a silver platter. And Eddie fell for him. It's the Munson curse, he supposes; always wanting what you can't have.

It started the way these things usually do, "got any weed?" and "come back to my place, Harrington" and "I got this stupid job at the mall, meet me there?" and lying "hey, guys, can't make band practice, gotta help Uncle Wayne" and "Munson, I really want--can I kiss you?"

In every other fantasy Eddie's ever had, it ends there. Steve gets his kiss and they never see each other again. But Steve Harrington--he's full of surprises. It catches Eddie off guard, makes him want, makes him trust. Because it's not just kisses. It's hands and mouths and "anything you want, Eddie. Let me make you feel good."

Maybe it wouldn't have hit so hard--maybe Eddie could've stopped from falling--if Steve hadn't been so good. Bitchy, sure, but genuine and kind. Had this whole gaggle of junior high kids he babysat, like what the fuck. Would hang out with Wayne and shoot the shit about whatever sports nonsense was on tv. Harrington never was as mean, as spoiled, as superficial as Eddie suspected.

Then Starcourt. That's when it all changes. Steve stops coming around then, in the aftermath. It hurts, but Eddie tells himself it's for the best. Now, he knows it would have been.

Two weeks with no contact, and Steve shows up at his door in the middle of the night. Eddie winces at the healing bruises and cuts on his face, can't imagine how much worse they were to start. He steps aside, lets Steve in, plans to say that he can't be whatever they are anymore.

Steve kisses him. It's a hot, needy thing, wild with teeth and tongue, nothing like before. Eddie is helpless to it, helpless to the way Steve grinds against him, already hard. He should slow it down, check-in that Steve is in the right headspace for this, but Steve is moaning low in his throat and Eddie can't think.

They're in Eddie's bed and Steve says, "fuck me, Eddie?" and Eddie says "are you sure" because he can't stop himself. Steve rolls his eyes (beautifuly bitchy), says, "I need to feel you inside me, baby."

How can Eddie say no?

Eddie's never done this before, but it doesn't matter. It's everything--Steve is everything--he could ask for.

The next morning, he expects Steve to be gone. Thinks they'll never see each other again. But he finds Steve in the kitchen, in his boxers and Eddie's Iron Maiden shirt, making eggs and talking to Wayne like it's the most normal thing in the world.

The next month and a half are the best of Eddie's life. He and Steve spend more time together than they do apart. Nights at Eddie's trailer, in Eddie's bed. Days lounging at the Harrington pool and driving around the nothing that surrounds Hawkins. Sometimes they'll stop in the middle of nowhere, climb on top of the van, and just--be. Steve takes his shirt off, and Eddie traces their names in the sun-soaked freckles, thinking maybe he really gets to have this, have Steve.

It ends as quickly as it started. One morning in September, Steve is cupping Eddie's neck, pulling him in for a goodbye kiss, saying, "sorry, baby, gotta get home for my parents. I'll see you later tonight, yeah?"

Except Eddie doesn't. Eddie doesn't see Steve that night, or the night after, or the night after that. He stops coming around and all Eddie is left with is a broken heart and these piss poor excuses for songs.

He rips out the latest page, waxing lyrical about the wonders of August, and time slipping away, and the boy he'll never forget. Crumples it into a ball and bats it into a pile of junk accumulated in the corner of his room.

Eddie needs a break.

He flies into the living room, snatches up his keys from the floor by the coffee table, and flees his house and all those memories of Steve. It's not like he has anywhere specific to go, so he drives around town, with his windows down and his music up.

His tires screech as he rounds the corner to the video store and arcade. He's not planning on stopping, but honestly, maybe a few rounds of Space Invaders is exactly what he needs.

The van hasn't even come to a stop in the parking spot when his eyes fall on Steve Harrington. He's standing in the middle of the parking lot surrounded by a gang of kids (including some of Eddie's new little sheepies) and Robin Buckley. Steve wears a sunny yellow sweatshirt, tight jeans, and his hair is perfectly coifed, falling in an elegant wave. His hands are on his hips, mouth and brows pinched stern. He's gorgeous, perfect.

It's an assault, an attack, Eddie's entire body shakes as the months they spent together crash over him. He has the van in reverse before he consciously thinks to do so, flooring it out of the space hard enough to burn rubber.

The noise, the speed, it draws the entire group's attention to him.

His eyes meet Steve's.

Time stops and so does he, idling in the middle of the parking lot. For a second, one moment in time, Steve's face falls. His mouth loses that grumpy pinch, his eyebrows drop, his beauty transformed by grief, by fucking longing.

Steve takes a step forward, and Eddie hits the gas, van screaming out of the parking lot. He watches the group shrink in his rearview mirror, sure that he imagined the sorrow in Steve's face, anyway.

They're nothing to each other.

Never were.

By popular request: Part Two

[woso-dreamzzz]

Flirts III

Mapi Leon x Reader x Ingrid Engen

Summary: You have doubts

You don't know when you start getting doubts.

You don't know why you start getting doubts either. There's no catalyst for it. There's no rhyme or reason.

Just, one day, when you're across the country working on a surgery, the thoughts come to mind.

Ingrid and Mapi just fit together. They have a push and pull that balances them so well. You can't help but wonder if you're ruining the balancing act.

You're the interloper here even if they were the ones that pursued you. Maybe you've made this into a bigger thing than they expected. Maybe they thought that they were just going to give you the best sex of your life and disappear into the sunset and you just got your claws into them and they were staying with you out of politeness.

Your thoughts aren't rational, you know this, but they still swirl in your mind when you return to Barcelona and break down in tears in your cousin's arms.

She looks more shocked and worried than the time you made her babysit your puppy.

"I love them," You choke out suddenly after several minutes of uncontrollable sobs," I love them so much."

"Mapi and Ingrid?" Patri asks," I don't see the issue here."

That just makes you cry harder. "I don't know if they love me back!"

"You're not making any sense," Patri says," Why wouldn't they love you back?"

"I don't know!" You snap. You're a bit annoyed that Patri's clearly not taking this as seriously as you'd like her to. "They're always together, at work, at home. I'm not around them as much! How could they possibly love me as much as I love them?!"

Patri grabs you by the arms and shakes you a bit. "You're overthinking, again. They love you even if they haven't said it yet. I know they do!"

"But how?!"

"Because I'm the smart one between us!"

You let out a little laugh as you wipe your eyes. "I think my degree in veterinary medicine would disagree with you there."

Even with Patri's reassurances, you still felt a little wary. But you pushed through it. Your cousin was many things but she wasn't a liar.

You definitely kept your distance a little bit though. You wait a few minutes to reply to messages, just to see if they'd take invitations back. You don't smother them in affection like you want to. You don't make the first move in anything.

"Are you coming to the match tomorrow?" Mapi asks one evening as you all sip wine on the terrace.

"Do you want me to?"

Ingrid sits up from where she was lazing around. She places her wine glass down on the table and captures your hands with hers. Her fingers gently rub over your knuckles.

"Why do you sound so unsure?" She asks," Hmm? What's going on?"

"Nothing's going on."

Her gaze turns cold and she pulls you to face her by your chin. "Don't lie to me," She says firmly," Or I'll have to remind you what happens to girls that do."

Your throat bobs at the reminder and you wiggle in your seat.

Mapi's moved closer to your other side, a hand resting on your thigh.

"What's going on?" She asks," You've been distant for days now. Even Patri's noticed it. She came to talk to us in training, did you know? If something's happened, you have to tell us or we can't help."

"Nothing's happened," You deny," Honest. I don't know...I just..."

"Just?"

"I love you," You declare suddenly, shocking even yourself with the conviction you say it," Both of you." The words hang in the air for a moment and you think this is it. It's gotten too real for them both. This is when they break up with you.

You squeeze your eyes tight.

Mapi moves behind you, her lips brushing up against the shell of your ear as she whispers," Good. We love you too, amor."

Ingrid's smirking when you open your eyes and she drags you in for a bruising kiss. It's sloppy as she slips her tongue into your mouth. When you pull away, you're panting.

"You're coming to the game, right?" Ingrid asks even though she already knows the answer.

You nod.

You end up in Ingrid's jersey for the match. Partly because it was the first one you saw that morning and partly because you knew that it made Mapi absolutely feral.

You wouldn't ever say that you understood football no matter how many times Patri tried to explain it to you but you could admit that you liked the way it made your girlfriends all flushed and sweaty by the end of the ninety minutes.

Ingrid's arms wrap easily around your waist as she helps you jump the barrier. She brings you into a kiss that's bordering the line of indecent in public and you barely have time to react before your head is turned and Mapi's kissing you too.

Her hand tugs on your shirt. "You're wearing Ingrid's jersey," She groans against your lips," God, amor, what are you doing to me?"

"You like?" You tease.

"I love."

Mapi pulls you for another kiss and this one is definitely not fit for the public as Ingrid rests easily on your back, your hips in an iron grip by her hands.

"You've gotten her riled up," Ingrid scolds though her tone is light and joking," We'll have to get out of her quickly before she make a scene."

"You're already making a scene," Pina complains from where she's standing nearby with Patri.

"Stop tonguing my cousin!" Patri says," It's disgusting! I told you not to do that where I could see it."

Mapi rolls her eyes. "And I told you to stop trying to police our relationship. You're not as intimidating as you think you are, amiga."

"I am so intimidating!"

"Patri," You laugh," I once saw you slip over an empty coke can and land in a bin. You're the least intimidating person I know."

She grumbles before pointing warning fingers at both of your girlfriends and storming off, pulling a laughing Pina in tow.

"She's so annoying," Mapi complains and you swat her.

"Hey, that's still my cousin. Be nice."

"She's not being nice to us!"

"Girls," Ingrid laughs," Come on. Let's get home." She smirks. "I think that we can spend our time doing something apart from arguing about Patri."

[gtgbabie0]

A cold heart

{After distancing yourself from Cregan the truth finally comes out}

Hope you enjoy as always lovelies! 💕

CW// reader is pregnant

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

Cregan grew up in the North, he became acclimatised to the cold weather as he grew, but yet he’s never felt so cold then he does right now in your shared bedchambers, despite the warmth of the fire. It’s a type of feeling that completely renders him numb. An aching feeling that sits heavy against his chest, it’s almost as if he can’t breathe.

He watches you climb into bed slipping underneath the many furs. His heart freezes as the realisation slowly sets in, he’s in for another night of silence, and like every other night for the past few weeks you’ll sleep as far away as possible, shrugging off his touch.

It's not that you didn't want him to touch you, quite the opposite actually. You just couldn't risk his wandering hands grazing against your tiny bump, you wouldn't let him find out, not that way.

He doesn’t think he can go another night of isolation. So he reaches out to you in hopes you’ll reopen your caged heart to him once again, just as you did all those moons ago when he confessed his feelings to you.

“Love, will you please tell me what’s bothering you? I can’t stand this silence” he says, a gentle hand against your shoulder and he winces when he feels you go rigid under his palm.

He retreats his hand not wanting to be the cause of your discomfort. You don’t look at him, far too afraid of the pain that will stain his face.

It’s not that you don’t want to tell him, in all honesty, you so desperately wanted to share the news, but you’ve heard so my awful stories from other ladies about their husbands seeking pleasure through other means, how they are completely abandoned by them simply because they were ‘undesirable’ it hurt to hear. You couldn’t imagine going through that.

So maybe that’s why you push Cregan away, because if you do it first it’ll hurt less when does inevitably happen.

“Nothing is wrong Cregan, I’m tired,” you say, wrapping your arms around yourself in search of comfort.

He likes to think that he is a calm man, never quick to anger but right now in this moment, anger is quick to warm his heart.

“Do not lie to me” he says, tone firm. You have only ever heard that when some lord made the mistake of insulting you in front of him, you remember thinking how you never wanted to be on the receiving end of that, yet here you are.

You sigh, biting back the tears that sting the back of your throat. “I just want to sleep Cregan” you whisper and he doesn’t miss the way your voice quivers.

You hear him let out a deep breath, then the bed shifts and he’s getting ready. The sudden change in the atmosphere makes you sit up, bringing the furs up with you, protecting yourself from the bitter cold.

“Where are you going?” You ask, watching as he laces up his boots, his eyes flicker to yours for a moment but they don’t linger long.

“I have work to do. Don’t wait up for me” he tells you and before you even have time to try and even think of what to say he’s gone.

You don’t bother stopping the tears that fall so effortlessly from your eyes. A regretful sob broke through your lips as you feel yourself engulfed by unwavering guilt, the type that pinches at your heart leaving bruises in its wake.

You can’t find solace in sleep, not without Cregan beside you. So you wait, and wait a book in your lap but you pay it no mind as your eyes stay fixed on the door.

You questioned whether or not he had already found another woman. Filthy thoughts tainting your mind, and you know it’s silly. Cregan would never break your trust or heart like that, never.

The hours seem to drag, and you contemplate if you should go out and find him yourself to say your sorries and give him a well-earned explanation, but the Maesters told you rest is the best thing for the babe.

Then the heavy wooden door opens, and there he is. “I told you not to wait up,” he says, and you watch him intently as he takes off his furs and leather.

You want to speak but you haven’t the slightest idea of where to even begin, there are so many words that rattle around in your brain but none of them seem good enough.

He looks over at you, and if it weren’t for the anger that still tingles his skin he would’ve felt sorry for the way you seemed to go in on yourself.

“Have I done something? Offended you somehow?— hurt you?” He wonders, wincing at the way his voice trembles, and the sound brings tears to your eyes.

You shake your head, trying to string a sentence together but the only thing that comes out is a pitiful sob. Emotions collide in your chest.

“Then what is it y/n? Why are you treating me as if I’m a stranger?” He asks, sitting at the end of the bed.

You study the scars that litter his chest, the one that travels across his ribcage that you love to you trace with gentle fingers, and you yearn to be held by him once again.

“I’m so sorry,” you tell him, your hand splayed against your collarbones. You can’t stop the cries that escape you. You shuffle down to where he’s sitting, a careful hand against his shoulder. “I’m sorry Cregan- I can explain” you gasp.

His slightly calloused hand soothes the expanse of your back, he hates seeing you so upset. The painful expression that paints your face, how your eyebrows furrow together. He promised himself that he’d do anything in his power to prevent this.

He wants to be mad, but he can't not when your shoulders shake as you try to stifle your cries behind a shaky hand.

“Love, breathe,” he says, taking your hand in his as he guides you through deep breaths. He’s always been so good at that.

He brings your hand to his lips, kissing your knuckles gently and you sigh at the feeling of his beard against your skin.

“Cregan, I-” you look up at him as he urges you to continue, worry laced through his eyes, “I am with child” you whisper, your eyes flickering down to where your hands lay against his lap entwined with his own.

“The ladies have said- told stories of how their bodies change, how they no longer look the same as before- their husbands, they-” you sob, not being able to finish the sentence, a desperate need to get him to understand. And he does, he knows what you’re trying to say, and it hurts him beyond words that you would ever even consider the possibility.

His hands gently cup your tearful face, and he gives you the most endearing look he could muster. “My precious wife” he starts, pressing a kiss to your forehead, “You are the light of my life, my heart is yours entirely,” he tells you, a sense of relief washing over him as you fling yourself into his arms.

It was silly of you to doubt his love, especially for you. “I know- I’m sorry,” you tell him, kissing his shoulder.

“How long have you known?” He asks, his hands grasping at your hips.

“I had a suspicion for a while” you confess, bringing his hands to your belly. You let out a breathy giggle at the way his eyes light up with excitement as his hand soothe the expanse of your stomach.

He presses a gentle kiss to your lips before wiping away the stray tears that fall from your lashes, “A pup of our own eh?” He says, a teasing look flashing through his eyes as he urges you to lay against the pillows.

His hand dips underneath your nightdress grazing along your thigh travelling to rest at the curve of your stomach, your bump was barely there but yet he knows the difference. He smiles at you softly, enjoying the way your breath hitches at his touch.

“I promise I’ll take such good care of you, and our little one” he says, love bleeding into his tone as he peppers your neck with kisses. Your fingers thread through his hair as you urge him closer to you, you had missed him more than you thought.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

[erwinsvow]

“I want them to like you,” you say, tugging on Rafe’s arm to drag him away from his truck and towards the beach. “I want them to love you.” He’s standing still, feet planted firmly on the pavement. 

You’ve wanted Rafe to meet your friends for the longest time, so much so that it’s the only thing you’ve been thinking about recently. It’s not exactly accurate—he has met them before, many times, actually, but they’ve never been good encounters. You recall a bruise on Pope’s back and JJ’s busted lip, back before they knew Rafe was your boyfriend and he was just public enemy number one.

But things are better now—really, they are. You try to convince yourself all of those incidents are in the past, that everyone’s over it now. You want your friends to like your boyfriend. You want your boyfriend to like your friends. You want it so bad you’re willing to drag Rafe to the beach yourself, if that’s what it takes.

“They can’t stand me,” Rafe replies, scanning the surroundings. He doesn’t like them, but he doesn’t want to hurt your feelings either, if they overhear the two of you right now. “Can’t stand them, either, y’know.”

“But you like me, don’t you?” you ask, smiling wide, all cheery and bright. Like he has to tell you again. He rolls his eyes, making you laugh.

“Not at all. What gave y’that stupid idea?” You roll your own pretty eyes in a matching response.

“C’mon, Rafe, look, they’re already here-” you whine, pointing at the giant, junky thing your Pogue friends call a car. He doesn’t let you anywhere near the thing anymore if he can help it—drops you off and picks you up because that thing is a death trap, even more so with one of the stoned idiots driving it. “I don’t wanna be late, so move-” you start pushing at his chest, but he doesn’t give you an inch. 

You huff, hot sun beating down on you, muscles tired from trying to move your entirely too strong boyfriend. 

“Fine,” you finally let out, giving up. “I’ll just go by myself.”

“Good girl. I’ll swing by to get you in a couple hours and then we can go for dinner-”

“Sounds good,” you interrupt, causing Rafe to look at you with an eyebrow raised—you never interrupt him. “I’ll just have Pope put the sunscreen on my back for me. Since you won’t be there.”

“Wait a minute-”

“And JJ’s been dying to teach me how to surf. Y’know, last time I tried though, my top fell off. But I guess it’s no big deal. I bet John B can put it back on for me.”

Rafe thinks he’s mastered the look of not caring sometimes, face blank, eyes showing nothing but mild disturbance. This is not one of those times. You smile, because you can’t help it, watching your boyfriend’s ears turn bright pink, the muscles in his jaw clench, his fist tighten around your pink beach bag.

You put your hand over his, gently, trying to take the bag so you can walk away with it. You’re not sure if your plan worked until he snatches the bag back, hand holding your wrist tightly. 

“Come on, kid,” he mutters, heading in the direction of the beach. “Pain in my ass,” you hear him say quietly, but you feel giddy that he agreed to join you after all. 

Your friends are set up by the water, towels haphazardly thrown on the sand, a case of beer resting in the shade under the umbrella. JJ is waxing his board, Pope is standing next to him, critiquing his method. John has just crushed a beer can down, and chucks it at Kie, who ducks and starts yelling about how inhumane littering is. 

“Hey!” you hear Pope beam, a smile lighting up your face. “Look who’s here-” and Kie joins in with an excited yell, tossing the empty can back at John B and hitting the back of his head. 

“Thought you’d never come back to us now that you’re a fancy Kook girl. Where’s that-” JJ goes silent, watching Rafe walking behind you, staring blankly, looking pissed. “-asshole boyfriend. Nevermind, I found him.”

“I brought Rafe,” you say, a big smile taking over again. You look expectantly at everyone, and then stare until they give you the reaction you want. They mumble hi and hey, Kook, and you turn back to Rafe, taking your bag and figuring out where to put your towels—pink, like the bag, like your bikini. Rafe’s shorts are white, with little pink stripes to match you. 

You both sit down on the sand before you finally offer him the bottle of sunscreen and lay flat on your stomach so he can put it on. He squirts some onto his hands, rubbing them together to spread it out and then first slaps your ass, leaving a sandy, white handprint on the skin. Your body jerks, whining against the towel.

“Had to. Practically asking for it. M’not apologizing,” he says, quiet enough that only the two of you can hear. His hands rub the sunscreen onto your back and arms, but then you decide everything he does is too erotic for public, so you turn back, insisting that’s enough sun protection. You just got here and you don’t want to leave because you can’t resist your boyfriend just yet.

You turn your head, noticing Kie walking towards you with a can of hard seltzer, the fruity kind she knows you prefer. The boys are by the other umbrella, tossing beers at each other. You tug on Rafe’s arm again.

“Why don’t you go get a beer with them. You can talk. It’ll be nice!” 

There’s nothing he’d rather do less. 

“Came here to hang with you, not them,” he says curtly, head resting back on the towel.

“Rafe!” The things he does for you. “Please?” He shouldn’t have looked at you—that was his mistake. Five seconds of your pout and your sincere eyes is enough to make him do whatever you want.

“Five minutes, then I’m coming back. That’s it.”

“Thank you,” you sing sweetly. Kiara comes and settles down next to you. “Is it strawberry? My favorite!” he hears you say, followed by the hiss of you opening the can, as he gets up and stalks towards your friends.

Their conversation dies when Rafe steps up—something he doesn’t like. He could care less about these idiots, but he really doesn’t want you to get caught in the middle of this shit. He can see it already—your pretty face covered in tears, crying because you care too much about him, care too much about your friends.

Rafe knows you’d pick him over them, he just doesn’t want to force you to make that choice.

“What’re you drinking?” he questions. Three pairs of eyes stare at him blankly. A retort bubbles inside him angrily—Stupid and deaf? You losers can’t catch a break, huh? He turns to look at you, hoping you’re in conversation with Kie and sipping your sugary drink. You’re not. You’re staring at the four of them with a hopeful smile.

He swallows the comment and turns with a forced, hard smile. “Beer? That’s great. Toss me one.” Pope does as he says, and then goes back to drinking his own. 

“S’like weird, to see you smile. Didn’t know you could do that,” JJ comments, crushing his own beer can up now that it was empty. Rafe wishes you were here, listening, because-

“What the hell am I supposed to say to that?” John B lets out a laugh at that, Pope joins in. Rafe cracks another smile, they’re pretty goofy, just like you had said. “Nah, I’m just saying, like, didn’t think you could be nice. Must be, if she likes you.”

Rafe turns to look back at you again, quickly. You’re talking to Kie now, head thrown back, laughing. You look prettiest like this, when you’re happy. 

“Yeah, for her.” Then he takes another long chug of the beer, looking back at them. “You idiots don’t make it easy.”

“It’s not easy for us, either,” Pope interjects. “I mean, you did hit me with a golf club.” Rafe runs a hand through his hair, unsure what to say, because he did do that. 

“Yeah, I, uh-” he trails off. “Sorry, sorry about that.”

“It’s okay,” JJ says.

“All in the past,” John B tacks on. 

It must be several beers later, because you hear the boys laughing and… getting along? You decide to walk over, just to make sure your eyes and ears aren’t deceiving you. The box they had just bought earlier today was filled with the empties, the unmistakable sound of your boyfriend’s laugh filling your ears, your friends all engaged in conversations. You decide to turn back rather than interrupt, giddiness filling your heart that everything worked out. You don’t catch the end of their conversation, already back to your towel and opening another drink with Kie.

“And then I went there,” JJ starts, “-and I was like should I leave, because then her parents might wake up, because I forgot the condom-”

JJ stops to take another sip of the beer, and Rafe cuts him off.

“Wait, you guys use condoms?” 

Three pairs of eyes turn on him.

When you two walk back to his truck a little later, he swings his arm around you and presses a kiss to your forehead.

“What was that for?” you ask, happy and tired.

“Yeah, I don’t think they like me much.”

[whotfelsewantedtobelynnyx]

DIHWYF Incorrect Quotes but it's mild Carmine sisters chaos

Because ✨sisters ✨

Clara, staring at newly adopted Vaggie: Um...want a beer?

Odette: She's like...five!

Clara: I DUNNO, WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO DO WITH HER?!

Clara: I'M BREAKING THE WINDOW!

Odette, whispering into her phone: Uh, hi- we locked our baby sister in the car and people are judging us.

Clara, now running around looking for a rock: I SWEAR TO GOD I'M GONNA BREAK IT!

Odette, whirling around: DO NOT BREAK THE WINDOW, YOU'LL GET GLASS ON HER!

Odette: But if you keep making up words, no one will understand you.

Young Vaggie: Clara will. Watch. *tugs on Clara's arm*

Clara: Yeah, squirt?

Vaggie: *complete gibberish*

Clara, immediately playing along: Whoa, are you serious?

Vaggie: *more gibberish*

Clara: I'd never considered that before!

Vaggie: *very serious gibberish*

Clara, patting her head: This changes everything.

Odette, facepalming: You're both crazy.

*Odette, spotting Vaggie trying to sneak out of her bedroom: Oh, not again. Come on, go back to bed before Mamá sees you.

Vaggie: But I don't want to go to bed!

Odette: Too bad, manita.

Vaggie, pouting: Why do I have to go to sleep? Why can't I just stay awake all night?

Odette, sighing and getting up to walk her back bed: Because that's the way the world is.

Vaggie: Well I'm going to make it so that's not how the world is!

Odette, tucking her in: That sounds like a big job. You're gonna need a full night's sleep for that.

Vaggie: Yeah, I will! *triumphantly snuggles in*

Vaggie, ten minutes later: Hey, wait a second-

Vaggie, curled up in front of the fridge: :(

Clara, spotting her: You alright, hermana?

Vaggie, sadly: I just miss Odette**.

Clara, sitting down next to her: Aw, I know.

Vaggie: And the fridge doesn't like me :(

Clara: I...know?

*Odette: Bed. Sleep. Now.

Vaggie, trying to hide behind Clara: But I'm not tired!

Clara: Yeah, 'Dette, she's not tired!

*they're both asleep in Clara's bed in ten minutes later*

Clara, snuggling lil' Vaggie: Big sister's going to drop-kick anyone that touches you 🥰

Odette, without missing a beat: And bigger sister's going to bail big sister out of jail.

Carmilla, cuddling Vaggie after she tripped and fell: I know it's tough, mija. But hey, how many times have you bumped your head or gotten a bruise while you're playing with your sisters?

Vaggie, holding an ice pack on her knee: Um...lots.

Carmilla: Right. And what do they always tell you?

Vaggie: ...don't tell Mamá?

Carmilla, who was fully expecting a different answer: What?!

Clara, who'd walked into the room to check on her little sister: Uh...I'll maybe come back later?

Clara, holding an ice pack to her sister's head: How much do you remember?

Teenage Vaggie, who'd just gotten into her first fight: Just the ambulance ride to the hospital, I think.

Odette: That wasn't an ambulance ride, I drove you.

Vaggie: But I heard sirens?

Clara: That was your girlfriend.

Charlie, clutching the largest teddy bear the hospital sold***: I got nervous!

Charlie, fresh into their relationship: If something happened to Vaggie, I...I couldn't live with myself.

Odette, completely straight faced: You wouldn't have to. Clara and I would kill you.

Vaggie, trying to sneak off with Charlie at a party: Guys, I need your help.

Clara: Oooh, ok. I have an idea.

Odette: Is it a bad idea?

Clara: *darts off in Velvette's direction*

Odette, jumping up to chase after her: CLARA, IS IT A BAD IDEA-****

Vaggie, walking by with a teapot:

Clara: Whatcha doing?

Vaggie: It's for Zestial. I'm planning on making some bad choices tonight and I want him on my side when Mom finds out.

Clara: Oooh, smart. I'll have to remember that.

Odette, not looking up from her laptop: I never realized the forethought that went into raising our mother's blood pressure.

BONUS:

Carmilla, trying to calm Lucifer down after he came to her for advice about Charlie: Look, I've raised three fully functional, well adjusted children and-

Luci, sniffling: You have three kids I don't know about?

Carmilla: ...

BECAUSE I LOVE THEM ALL

Here's a link to the AU!

*these exchanges definitely took place less than an hour apart.

**Odette is fine, she's just on a business trip and her sisters are sad.

***That bear is not for Vaggie. She has a different one for Vaggie. The older Carmines got her that so she would calm the fuck down

****is this a hint as to how Charlie and Vaggie meet? 🤫

[imshymorph]

So, even more soft!Price thoughts cause i wasn’t joking when i said he lives rent free in my mind. Specifically, it's more bedrest!Price.

You’ve been with him long enough to know that all the grunts and eye rolls are just a facade. Long enough to know what the soft looks he gives you in between mean. To notice the way his shoulders and jaw relax the moment you walk into the room.

And you know exactly what it means when he grunts and scratches his cheek, right where his beard is overgrown, and looks at you from the corner of his eye before going back to reading. You still find it amusing to pretend you don’t, mentally counting how many times he sighs and grunts as he gives you the side eye. Eventually you relent, lowering your own book to look at him.

“Hm, beard looks overgrown and itchy.” you comment causally, playing into his game.

You see, there’s times where he’ll just come to you, arm wrapping around your waist and head resting against yours as he murmurs something along the lines of “need your help with my beard, love.” But that’s when it’s on his terms, when he feels like being pampered and needs the grounding feeling that your soft and gentle touches provide.

It’s different when he’s on bed rest. When the bruising and stitches on his torso and side make every movement achy and painful. Now he doesn’t dare ask for it. It’s dumb, really. He knows you’d be more than happy to help him and he’d do this and more if the roles were reversed. But you already do so much, help him with pretty much any other thing he has to do.

And it feels wrong, because he should be the one taking care and pampering you. Filling the tub with warm water and those lavender salts that help you relax after a busy day. He should be the one scrubbing and massaging your body and scalp. It should be him bringing you breakfast to bed as he pulls you into his side and helps you get through it. He can’t ask more of you.

So when he just grumbles “it’s starting to be annoying, yes.” while still looking at his book (but absolutely not having turned the page for the last twenty minutes at least) you just play along.

“Should do something about it, then.” you say as your hand reaches for the bookmark resting on the coffee table, marking your page and leaving your book before going towards the bathroom.

“Don’t you dare come here until I come over to help you!” you call back from the bathroom. and his eyes widen a bit as he grabs his book again, his body relaxing back against the couch cushions after he had started to scoot forward to get up in the least painful way he could manage. (How did you even know, he was being so quiet).

That’s how you end up sitting on the bathroom counter, one of his hands on your hip and the other on your thigh as he stands between your legs. You carefully shave the overgrown patches, making sure to not reach too far into the already shaped mutton chops. Even more careful to not nick his skin. Small frown between your brows as you work in full concentration, a soft smile tugging at his lips as he notices the small wrinkle it creates.

When the brittle hair is properly shaped and his face rinsed from the foamy cream, you dry it with a towel before massaging the beard oil he always uses into his skin.

A pleased and proud smile forming on your lips after giving your work one last look. “there, all trimmed and handsome.”

Your smile only widens when his hand moves from resting on your thigh to cupping your cheek pulling you closer, pressing a kiss to your lips. “Thank you, love. Really needed that.” he says, lips brushing yours with every word before he gives you another kiss.

[munariplans]

Hiii thank you for updating on your recent story! I enjoyed it!!💓 could I request Natasha x reader in a situationship & there’s a avengers wedding and they both get invited separately only for reader to see Nat in a different way and suddenly realised they had feelings all this time for her 🥹

the arrangement | natasha romanoff

synopsis: based on the request above!

natasha romanoff x reader

word count: 5.6k words

a/n: i really do have a fondness for writing pining and angst, enjoy hehehehe

masterlist

in a rare instance in the years you’ve known natasha, it was her that awoke first that morning, shaking you awake as yelena pounded on the door to her room.

“hey, hey,” natasha whispered-yelled, prompting you to get up while opening your eyes blearily, “you have to go. yelena’s here.”

yawning, you gave her an “OK” signal as you gathered your surroundings. you had once again fallen asleep in her room after last night. gathering your clothes and fixing your hair then, you spared a look at her mirror first before leaving, and what you saw almost made you want to laugh out loud. 

“how the fuck did you manage to cover me in this many hickeys?” 

natasha turned to you, halfway through freshening herself up as well. the redness in her cheeks grew prominent as she saw the many purple and red bruises littering all around your neck. cursing, she threw you a turtleneck from her wardrobe and pointed at the window. yelena was asking her why she was taking so long now.

but just before you climbed out, she thought about it, and risked it for a few more seconds, before pulling you in to press a kiss to your lips. “that girl that was hitting you up at the party last night was being annoying. had to show her you weren’t interested.”

you grinned, shaking your head at her ridiculousness. 

and right as you shut the window and slipped out, yelena barged in and threw her several wedding dress options onto natasha’s bed, demanding for her sister to decide which one looked best. but natasha hated to admit she was still distracted from the way your ass swayed right as you sultrily sneaked out of her window. 

–

later that same afternoon, you were walking with your friend, accompanying him ring-shopping, when the question first came up. 

“aren’t you ever interested in marriage? or, at the very least, finding a partner?” he half-joked. everyone knew you had been single for a while now. “we’re not so young anymore, you know.”

in response, you shrugged. “i don’t see a point.”

“in loving someone?”

“in being with someone, at all. the domesticity, the mundaneness, it’s all so…boring, after a while. i don’t see why you, and so many others, would want to be tied down by all of that, forever.”

“...so you don’t see a forever?”

“right now, with just one person, i don’t,” you said, your eyes drifting off to the street across, where a girl in braids of red hair reminded you of a certain someone you had begun sleeping with in the past few months. 

–

you called natasha on the way home, asking if she had company for the night, and if not, whether she wanted yours. 

she replied that she was frustrated, and that yelena was being a bitch about her wedding planning. natasha had insisted that a band would have been a better musical accompaniment, yelena had wanted to allow tony and clint to get drunk enough to sing for her.

you came to yelena’s rescue, apparently. because right as you arrived right back at natasha’s apartment, where the two women were clearly at each other’s throats and yelena had literally picked up a butter knife to threaten her sister, you caught natasha from lunging at her and wiping the stupid smirk off her face entirely. she thrashed in your arms, but with a few reassuring words and a promise to let yelena have a taste of her own medicine later, she relented. 

“can you believe how stupid she is sounding? wanting the drunkards to sing for her?!” natasha pointed out then, to which yelena took offence once more. 

“i’m sorry i want my wedding to be fun!” she screamed, “you can’t help it if god made your sister boring!”

“why, you–”

you held natasha firmer by your side, at the feeling of her nearly jumping to strangle her sister. “–natasha, enough. let it go.”

“she was being–”

“–it’s her choice, her wedding. let it go, will you? we can discuss this another time, when you two are less…riled up,” then, you leaned in closer, and whispered, “if you behave now, i’ll let you try fucking me against the glass of that window you like seeing me escape out of so much later.” 

her breath hitched, you knew you had struck a deal with natasha. she backed off, and even stopped herself from retaliating at yelena’s middle finger and stuck-out tongue.

but when yelena had left for the day and the two of you were alone, natasha found herself being strapped to the passenger seat of your car, as you drove her to her favourite ice cream parlour nearby.

a pout on her face, natasha asked as you parked, “i thought we were going to have sex after she left.”

you nodded understandingly. “we are, but i think i need to cool you down with ice cream first. i don’t want to get myself injured from your wrath with yelena earlier.”

the truth had been because you thought natasha needed a space to calm down and process her feelings first, and not to bottle it up and shove it away from sex. plus, you thought that the treat would cheer her up a little as well, putting aside how hot you found angry sex was with natasha.

of course, with your little quip, you could only expect natasha elbowing you as hard as she could, as you laughed and opened the door for her to the parlour.

–

“they have a new flavour here,” natasha pointed against the display, “apple pie.”

“you won’t like it.” you thought about natasha’s preferences for ice cream, and while they were boring, they were safe. “they have your usual today.”

but she took it as a challenge, apparently. “i’m going to try it.”

and as the cashier took both your orders, natasha noticed you place an order for her usual flavour. while it was odd that you would deviate from anything even remotely far from cookies and cream, she chose not to speak of it. 

you watched as natasha took her seat in front of you, then taking one bite of her apple pie scoop, before her face morphed into one of doubt, then slight discomfort, and finally, disgust. still, she tried to hide it from you, putting on a straight face as you asked her how it tasted. 

“fine,” she said, but her disdain said otherwise. 

in response, you smirked, offering her a bite of your own scoop. she was persistent in not wanting to at first, but as you offered her again, she took a bite, then another, and another, and oh well by that point you had given her your entire scoop and taken hers away from her. 

you tasted the apple pie scoop. it had cinnamon, something natasha clearly disliked. there was no wonder, you thought, smiling to yourself as you watched her finish the last of her usual order of vanilla with chocolate sprinkles. 

–

you were at the bachelor’s party of yelena’s fiancé when natasha’s call came in. she had dropped you a string of drunk texts that night, a product of her own consequences from attending yelena’s bachelorette party.

“hello, natty?” you answered, moving away from the noisy atmosphere of the club to a secluded side. you caught the groom giving you a confused look, you gestured that it was natasha on the line, and he gave you a weird smirk. 

“hellooo,” she drunkenly slurred. in the background, you could hear yelena asking for more shots. “my lovely, lovely, friend. where–are–you? i want to go home nowww…”

you moved further away from the club, bringing your phone closer to your ear. “i’ll come pick you up. are you sober enough to text me the address?”

just then, the phone was brought to maria’s side, and you could hear her shrieking for natasha to let you enjoy the party, and that there were designated drivers to bring her home if she needed to. natasha yelled back that she wanted you to come pick her up. 

you got the address from the groom, as he and the other people in the party boo-ed you for leaving so soon. you still had a line of shots to finish and a karaoke match that you would be missing, but you had already picked up your jacket and began finding your car keys to pick up natasha then. 

when you found her, she was slumped over the bar counter, in a conversation with the bartender, who was clearly wanting to serve the other customers to earn his keep. you approached, and natasha immediately went to your side as she hung off of you, smiling from ear to ear. her smile made your own lips turn up in amusement. 

“are you the one she’s been talking my head off all night?” the bartender asked, and you chuckled. 

“i guess so,” you thanked him for taking care of her, and left the bar after saying a round of goodbyes to the people in yelena’s party as well. 

– 

you helped natasha to the passenger seat of the car, but right as you reached over her body to help fasten her seatbelt, her hand caught your wrist, forcing you to look up at her. 

her eyes met yours, and in a clear split second of momentary sobriety, you saw sincerity in them. she whispered, “you’re so pretty,  i think i might be in love with you.”

you couldn’t help the laughter that bubbled in your throat, as your first reaction was to snicker, then look away from her. then, when you heard her groan behind you, the snickers became full-blown chuckles as you laughed in her face at the drunken confession. “oh, i have so much blackmail material against you when you’re drunk.”

natasha hit you frustratedly as you returned to the driver’s seat, but you caught her hand as you continued, “you’re drunk, natasha. you’re saying things you don’t mean.”

you helped her out of the car again as you reached her apartment, her leaning her body on yours as she stumbled finding her way through the building. using the extra set of keys she had given you, you unlocked the door and set her down on her sofa. 

guiding her to her bedroom, you felt natasha’s hands then start travelling up and down your body, and while in any normal circumstance you would have indulged her, and perhaps initiated more, you knew she was drunk. you weren’t going to be the asshole who took advantage of their friend, with benefits, when it was unclear even to her what she was doing. 

you removed her hands, and let her lie down on the bed. she pouted. “do you not want me?” 

she saw you disappear into her bathroom for a minute, before returning with her toiletries. “i do. you know i always do. just not when you’re drunk.”

“but i want youuu,” she slurred, “and i’m so horny nowww.”

you smirked, but still refused. instead, you rested on top of her, slowly removing her false eyelashes, then wiping off her makeup, and finally helping her carefully wash her face. she sighed at the gentle massage and warm water. “you know, anyone else would have said yes. anyone else would have been dying for natasha romanoff, me, to sleep with them like this.”

“but i’m not anyone else, aren’t i?” you quipped, taking off her clothes and rejecting yet another advancement for her to take yours off as well. you went to her dresser to find her pyjamas. 

natasha rolled her eyes, turning her body away from you as you dressed her up again in protest. you smiled to yourself at her cuteness, tucking her in and pressing a kiss on her forehead. “tomorrow, when you’re sober and still up for it, call me. i’ll be here right away.”

she watched you place a strip of advil and a glass of water for her hangover tomorrow, before gathering your things again. “...you’re not going to stay? where are you going?” 

drunk natasha really was clingy natasha, you thought. “i have another hookup i need to get to. need to make the most of my nights, you know?”

in truth, you didn’t want to overstep any boundaries you and natasha had set up for yourselves when you first got into this…arrangement. she was clear on not wanting any feelings to be involved, and with how things were turning out tonight, you were afraid that if you stayed, there would be a blurring of some lines from her end on her feelings; lines that she would reenforce the morning after even more strictly. and while you didn’t generally have a problem with that, you had felt that you had gotten natasha to lower her walls down enough to enjoy your company beyond your flings; you didn’t want to risk all that just for a night where she could possibly tell you her drunken feelings about you. you treasured your friendship too much for that. 

and so you left, leaving natasha slightly stung and hurt with the implication that you had someone else, or a lot of someone elses, waiting for you if she wasn’t sleeping with you, and strangely, it affected her more than she thought it would, even drunk as she was. watching you leave, she thought selfishly about how she hadn’t slept with anyone since she began sleeping with you, so was it only fair that you had the decency not to as well?

but you and her were just friends, she had to remind herself. it was not like she had power to dictate who you were seeing, and who you slept with, anyway. it was not like you two were exclusive, or in a relationship at all, which was precisely what natasha hadn’t wanted at the start. now, she was wondering why she even uttered those words at all. 

little did she know, you were doing nothing of the sort. instead, you had gone straight home, put up a romantic comedy on the TV, heated yourself some leftovers, and sighed as you pondered over your own early end to the night.

– 

everyone who knew you and natasha, knew however, that whatever relationship you two had, was more than just friends. that the two of you had crossed the line of just friends about twenty late-night hookups and rendezvouses ago, no matter what either of you claimed about the other. 

it was clear in the way you cared for natasha more than any other friend you had, it was clear in the way natasha sought out for you more than she even initiated a conversation with anyone else. 

which was what made it so incredulous; that you would allow anyone else try to court natasha before you did. 

everyone had warned bucky that what you and natasha shared was more than just a surface friendship, and relations ran deeper than what he thought was possible. but still, it didn’t stop him from taking your own words against yourself, and confronting you about it one day.

“you’re just friends, right?” he asked haughtily, interrupting you as you were helping yelena sort out the final touches to her wedding venue arrangement. you dismissed him with a quick grunt and agreement. 

but he followed you. “then you wouldn’t mind helping me get to know her, would you? or better, helping her fall for me?”

you paused in that moment, yelena, overhearing the conversation, consequently giving him a weird look as well. surely not, she thought, turning her attention to you, but you seemed to contemplate his request. 

and she nearly choked in disbelief, when surprisingly, you agreed to help him out in chasing natasha.

you shared with him that natasha’s birthday was approaching, and when he asked what kind of gifts she would like, you wanted to say something small, heartfelt. but then you realised it was probably only in your case she would like it so. from anyone else, you thought she deserved the world. 

“something big, extravagant,” you told bucky, “natasha deserves only the best, you see.”

he happily lapped up any information you gave him about natasha, the person who knew her best. 

and when her birthday did arrive, you watched by the sidelines as bucky shyly presented his gift to her, an outlandish, extravagant display of just his infatuation for the woman. everyone had thought it was well-thought out, very well suited to what she liked, and you patted yourself on the back at the comments. it was you, after all, who had accompanied bucky to get her gift. 

natasha looked flustered, admittedly, at the surprise of someone knowing what she wanted so well. it wasn’t everyday that she told the people around her what she wanted for her birthday, after all. and to think about it, she had only told you, of her wishlist upon her birthday. 

when she found a moment with you alone that night, as the party winded down and everyone began to leave, she was interrupted by bucky hanging around foolishly, almost as if he was waiting for something to happen between them. she kindly gave him a kiss on the cheek, and promised him she would call him the next day. she needed to get to you first.

you were by the bar as you watched their interaction, the giddy look on bucky’s face as he left and gave you a thumbs-up making you chuckle. 

then, natasha appeared by your side, asking you what was so funny. you didn’t have the heart to tell her. 

“i didn’t forget to get you a gift, by the way,” you told her when she had coaxed you up to her bedroom, “i just…didn’t want the others to see. saved you the embarrassment of the teases and accusations in front of everyone.”

“oh god,” natasha replied, “you’re going to gift me a sex toy, aren’t you? i just know it.”

“you are such an addict,” you snickered, “what do you take me for?!”

then, you pulled out a small box from your jacket, tied in a tiffany blue ribbon with her name written in an accompanying card alongside the box. natasha’s fingers trembled as she received your gift.

to my natasha, my bestest friend. 

she didn’t know why her heart dropped a little in disappointment at the note. but she kept up her unwavering smile, and pulled on the ribbon. 

it was a silver necklace, with a flower pendant right in front. it was neither tacky, nor extravagant and luxurious, like bucky’s gift had been. and while his gift was definitely something natasha liked, and was surprised by, your gift had been the one that almost sent her to tears. 

“because you’re beautiful like the flowers,” you said, a little uncertain as you watched tears well up in her eyes, “natty, are you okay?”

she tried to reel in the tears, but to no avail. worried, you said, “if you don’t like it, i can return it, it’s okay. i can probably get back a half-refund for it, and get you the voucher to spend on something else. oh god, you’re crying because of me, is it that bad…?”

but then, suddenly she was throwing herself onto you, arms wrapped around your neck as she sobbed hysterically. she had never known someone who knew her so well. you wrapped your arms around her body, still confused, when she choked out, “i-it’s perfect. thank you.”

she asked you to help her put it on, and when the clasp was tightened and natasha felt the pendant rest on the base of her collarbones, she held it as if she was holding it close to her heart. it was the best birthday gift she had ever gotten. 

“i’m sorry it’s a little small, and kind of lame,” you professed later, as she laid on top of you, spending the last few moments of her birthday together. it was also the rare few times the both of you were fully clothed while laying on that bed. “i know you deserve so much better, but i…i saw the pendant, and it reminded me of you.”

natasha listened to your heartbeat quicken as she reached out for your hand, interlacing her fingers with yours. “i loved it. you don’t have to apologise. thank you, for today as well. steve told me you planned the party from start to finish. called the caterers to make sure they had what i liked, arranged the drinks from the bar, even nearly having a fight over the cake decorations with the bakery. it must’ve been so much trouble.”

your laugh this time was warm, rumbling from your diaphragm. “not at all. not if it’s for you.”

your eyes met hers, and when natasha readjusted her face just so that she could be closer, to give you a perfect opportunity to lean down and kiss her, to give her the perfect end to her birthday night, you stupidly looked away, and told her you couldn’t stay. 

as you left, you reminded her to call bucky again, and natasha nearly threw her own phone at you in frustration. 

– 

natasha had unwillingly agreed to a lunch date with bucky, upon your suggestion that he was a nice guy, and that she was the only one left to go to yelena’s wedding without a date. she made you promise to pick her up right after, and while you feigned that she was so troublesome for asking for such, you were happy to do it for her. 

“well, how was it?” you asked. you had been driving for a good fifteen minutes after picking her up, and natasha still had not said one word about him. she had only been talking to you about your day up until then. 

she shrugged, almost as if not giving a care for it. “it was okay. he paid for the lunch. we talked about yelena’s wedding.” 

“okay enough for a second date?”

she looked away to the window. you thought you said something wrong, when she replied, “what do you think about him?”

“well, i don’t know,” you said, “when he came to me, asking for help to get you to like him, i thought he seemed genuine enough. so…i helped him.”

“wait,” natasha suddenly sat up, shooting you a glare, “you were helping him? to get to me?”

your gaze met hers for a brief moment, before returning to the road. “...yes? is there anything wrong with that?”

she stayed quiet for a moment, but you knew she was seething. you offered to explain yourself, to tell her that you just wanted the best for her, that’s all, and that bucky seemed like a good partner for her, when natasha held up a hand to stop you. 

then, she demanded for you to stop the car and let her out.

“what?” you asked, puzzled. “it’s still half an hour to your apartment, natty. and it’s about five degrees out, you’ll freeze to death if you get out.”

“i said, stop the car!” she argued back defiantly, “stop the car or i’m opening the door right now and throwing myself out!”

you knew not to take natasha’s words lightly, as you stopped finally. then, you watched with even more disbelief, as she unbuckled her seatbelt, got out, and slammed the door shut again. 

when she began walking her route home, you followed her with your car and pleaded, “come on, natty, are you mad at me?”

she refused to make eye contact or acknowledge you. 

“fine, i was wrong. i never should’ve helped him, and i won’t help him anymore. i just…i wanted what was best for you, you know? come on, get back in the car, it’s cold outside, and you still have so far to go if you walk.”

“what’s best for me…” she said under her breath, “...how do you know what’s best for me?”

“natty, i said i’m sorry!” you begged this time, but natasha suddenly took a turn to the right, leading up to a row of shops where the roads didn’t allow for cars in, and you knew it was your sign to leave her alone. she still didn’t acknowledge you when you said you were sorry for the third time. 

–

the next time bucky came up in a conversation between you both (you had been very careful not to tread upon it since that day), natasha told you that she had let him down and told him to try again when she was more ready for a relationship.

you were afraid of asking why, in fear that she would ignore you and get upset all over again, but she invited you to do so. so you asked, and she said that she had her eye on someone else the whole time, so it was unwelcomed at the thought of you trying to set her up with bucky.

you had wanted to ask who it was, your curiosity piqued, when you were interrupted by wanda asking you for a dance. it had been at another friend’s wedding, after all. 

natasha found herself digging her fingernails into her palms when you took wanda’s hand and danced with her.

–

the woman showed you just how jealous she had been of wanda hours later in your bedroom. with the knowledge that her and bucky were no longer a thing, you no longer had to respect your boundaries with her as a friend, and the both of you returned to sleeping together again. to say that you missed natasha’s touch had been an understatement.

“you look so pretty with my hands around your neck,” natasha whispered harshly. there it was again. the last time she called you so pretty, she was drunk. now, she was sober, and you were still finding it hard to believe her words. perhaps it was just something she said in the heat of the moment.

you moaned as her fingers plunged harder, and deeper, within you, letting your eyes roll to the back of your head as natasha ravaged you for the night. in the morning you would wake in her bed again, and it would be okay, because you had her back, finally. the red, raw trails on your back from her fingers wouldn’t feel so sore, the hickeys around your neck and jaw no longer a nuisance. because you had her back, and it was all that mattered. 

–

leading up to yelena’s wedding, the two of you returned to a shared normalcy that was similar to before the bucky incident; something both you and natasha were grateful for.

you would pick her up for lunch at her favourite restaurants most days, and on more than one occasion, you would catch natasha taking pictures of you when the both of you were alone. she thought you looked too good, in the natural sunlight of the restaurant window, and in the scarf that she had bought for you for your birthday. 

when you would ask to see the photos later on, you found it hard to disagree that the world did look better in natasha’s eyes. 

away from your prying eyes later, natasha would set the photos she took of you as her phone wallpaper. 

– 

with natasha as the maid of honour and you being one of the grooms (wo)men, natasha was the one who insisted that you at least knew how to dance properly when the slow songs came about. you had whined that you wouldn’t be dancing anyway, since you didn’t have a date, and you weren’t looking to find a date, but the woman was insistent, and you could never really say no to her. 

“it’s easy, just follow me, and try not to step on my feet,” she reminded you, fixing the turntable to an elvis record. you watched in adoration at the warm lighting of the room, and how, even in her pyjamas and her hair tied in a messy bun, natasha still managed to look beautiful even in her apartment’s living room. 

she took your hands in hers, placing it on her waist, as she laid her head on your shoulder. “breathe. and follow me.”

the music played. it was easy enough keeping up with natasha, following her footsteps and swaying to the music. but what was not easy, was having her breath fanning out against your neck, the smell of wine in her mouth, and the music, oh the music. it was a huge mistake to dance with natasha when elvis’ can’t help falling in love was playing in the background.

the both of you softly, slowly danced, natasha taking comfort in your touch, while the music accompanied all that you were feeling for the night.

shall i stay? would it be, would it be a sin? if i can't help falling in love with you 

would it be a sin if you fell for natasha? you could only hold her closer, relishing in the fact that in that brief moment, where the two of you were dancing, no one else mattered, and nothing else was there, except for your two souls, beating as one. once the song was over, it would be back to being just friends for you both, but in that moment, you were infinite, and you were natasha’s. 

when she felt you let go first as the song ended, natasha resisted the urge to hold on tighter and ask for a second song. 

– 

on the morning of the wedding, you woke natasha up first, pressing kisses all over her cheeks and face as she giggled and wrestled you off. then, she tried sneaking her hand past the band of your panties, to which you reluctantly pulled her out of, mentioning how you couldn’t be late to yelena’s wedding, of all events. she groaned and kissed you for a consolation prize. 

the both of you got ready together. in the bathroom mirror, when the two of you were brushing your teeth, you made eye contact with natasha and she did with you. she smiled shyly, and you realised you didn’t mind spending the rest of your mornings brushing your teeth beside her for a lifetime. 

she sat on your lap as she did your makeup, and you did the same doing hers. the both of you must have had a silent agreement to not look into the other’s eyes for too long in those moments, because you knew natasha wanted to kiss you just as much as you wanted to kiss her when she got too close. 

and when the both of you arrived and separated into your respective sides of the venue, you wished natasha the best of luck with a kiss to her cheek. she hugged you back in reassurance, telling you would do well in the slowdance later. 

when the guests were seated and ready, and natasha and you standing in the opposite sides of the bride and groom, you caught her eye again, watching yelena walk in. she looked absolutely radiating, and you knew she was thanking natasha secretly for convincing her that a band was a better musical accompaniment than whatever she had planned for herself. 

you look beautiful, you mouthed to natasha. she hid her blush in the bridesmaid beside her, as she mouthed the same back to you. 

but when elvis’ song came on again, as yelena walked down the aisle, your eyes were still transfixed on each other. it didn’t matter, because everyone else’s eyes were on the bride then. only you and natasha had each other.

and suddenly, you realised that forever with someone, didn’t seem so bad at all. not if it’s with her. not if it’s natasha. 

 the domesticity, the mundaneness, it wasn’t all so boring if it was with her. you realised you would relive the thousands of days of doing nothing, if it was spent by her side. 

you realised you would do anything for her, even go out to get a ring for her right then, propose and then marry her in a chapel, if that was what she wanted. if it meant forever with her. 

you realised that maybe you loved her, more than just friends. and loving her meant realising that you didn’t have to make a wish ever again because you already had everything you could ever want with her. 

– 

you wanted to ask for her hand when it was time to slow dance. you wanted to ask her to be yours. you wanted to ask her if it hurt to breathe while you loved her as much as she loved you. 

but when you found her, and went to her side to ask her, you were interrupted by bucky once again, who patted you on the back and diverted his attention to natasha. 

he asked her to dance first. and the smile on your face fell, natasha noticed. she halted him, turning to you to ask what was wrong, but then you shook your head, telling her you were fine. she asked again, but you insisted that she dance with him. you would tell her later.

you didn’t know if you were too late. you didn’t know if there were good reasons natasha had established boundaries between the two of you, and whether breaking them meant losing her forever. what were you thinking, that just because you caught feelings, meant she would catch them too? 

you wouldn’t risk what you have with her just because of your feelings. you treasured natasha too much for that. 

and so when she slow danced with the man on the dance floor and tried catching your eye to dance with her instead, you only gave her a small smile and left the ballroom first. 

because you weren’t hers and she wasn’t yours. that had been the arrangement from the start. 

[steddieas-shegoes]

i'm stayin'

for @steddieholidaydrabbles prompt 'who did this to you?' wc: 869 rated: m cw: off-screen violence, mentioned childhood abuse (not in detail) tags: steve harrington has bad parents, established relationship, secret relationship, pre-season 4, hurt/comfort, asthmatic steve because i've made him go through everything else why not this too

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

Steve's vision was blurry, his hands shaking as he tried to put his car in park in front of the trailer.

His backpack, no longer full of what he needed for school, sat in the passenger seat, half-zipped and telling the ugly truth of what he wasn't sure he could process right now: his parents had kicked him out with only the possessions he could shove into his bag.

Steve winced as he reached for his inhaler, a last second grab when his dad had decided he'd given him plenty of time to pack only three minutes into his rushed efforts.

He didn't need it at this moment, had managed to calm down on the drive to Eddie's, but knew it was only a matter of time before the anxiety would set in again. Hopefully, he'd have Eddie next to him when it did.

Wayne's truck wasn't in the yard, probably working another night shift. Eddie's new-to-him van was parked crooked by the front porch, like he'd been in a rush to get inside when he got home earlier.

Steve immediately stepped out of his car into mud.

Right. It rained earlier.

No lights were on in the trailer, but Wayne had given him a key only a few weeks before, saying something about how he should always have a place to go if he needed it.

Almost like he had a feeling about what was to come.

Steve opened the door, surprised to find Eddie passed out on the couch, blanket pulled up to his nose and the space heater turned off.

If his eye didn't hurt so bad, he'd roll them both. No matter how many times he told Eddie to just turn it on before he sat down so he would be warm, it didn't seem to sink in.

He turned it on, cursing quietly when it made a loud popping noise.

"Wayne?" Eddie asked, rubbing his eyes and sitting up as he tried to wake up. "Work?"

"Not Wayne, Eds. Go back to sleep." The last thing Steve needed right now was Eddie freaking out about what he was sure was ugly proof of his father taking out his prejudices on him. "I'm gonna be in your room."

"Steve?" He sounded much more awake now, and Steve couldn't resist turning fully to look at him. "Holy shit. Who did this to you?"

Steve grimaced. He knew they couldn't ignore it, he was just hoping to patch himself up a bit before morning when Eddie would start asking questions.

"Um."

And then the damn tears started falling before Steve could give any explanation, and Eddie's arms wrapped around him carefully, like he was terrified to hurt him more. Eddie was always so careful with him, like he knew there were plenty of invisible bruises already.

He cried for so long, his entire body felt numb, and he could vaguely register that he was shivering. Eddie's hands were rubbing his back slowly, comforting him the best he could.

Eventually, Steve's tears stopped, his breathing slowed back to normal, and his chest didn't feel as heavy.

"Is that your inhaler or are you just happy to see me?" Eddie teased gently, leaving room for Steve to ignore him if he wasn't in the mood for jokes.

Steve snorted. "It's my inhaler. But I am happy to see you. Always."

Eddie's lips brushed the top of his head, so faint, Steve almost thought he imagined it.

"You wanna talk about it?" The caution in Eddie's voice was enough for Steve to pull his head away from his shoulder, flinching when he felt the pull of his split lip.

"Not now. Kinda tired." Understatement of the century. Steve felt like he could sleep for hours. "Can I sleep here?"

"Stevie, you can stay as long as you want, you know that."

Steve knew Eddie knew, and Eddie knew Steve wasn't gonna come outright and say it until he'd had time to come down from it all.

"Can we sleep in your bed?" Steve asked, resting his head back on Eddie's shoulder.

Eddie wordlessly led him down the short hallway to his bedroom, helped him get into comfier clothes, and used a washcloth to wipe any of the blood he'd missed at the gas station earlier.

They got in bed, Steve curling against Eddie's side like he'd done so many times before.

This felt different though. This felt like an end of something, a beginning of something else.

*-*-*-*-*-*

When Wayne saw him the next morning, he gave him a sad smile, a hug, and handed him a cup of coffee.

"You stayin'?" he asked, like it was simple.

Like Steve could stay.

"I-"

"I have two rules. One, you go to school. Two, you tell me if you're gonna be out too late, especially on a school night. You follow those, you stay. Sound good?" Wayne raised a brow.

If Steve hadn't spent the last six months at the Munson's trailer more than his own home, maybe he'd be intimidated.

As it stood, all he could do was give a small smile and grab a frozen bag of mixed veggies from the freezer to put on his swollen eye.

"I'm stayin'."

[candycandy00]

The Maiden’s Voyage - A Sukuna x Reader Fanfic Part 3

You’re a passenger on a ship attacked by pirates. The pirate captain Sukuna chooses you to be his entertainment for the voyage.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Smut. 18+. Fem Reader. AU. Sukuna as a Pirate Captain. Noncon/Rape! Very rough sex! Bondage. Violence. Blood. Spanking (with belt). Sukuna is a cruel, sadistic monster here! You’ve been warned!

Part of CandyCandy’s 2k Followers Event! There will be multiple parts because I got really attached to this idea and it was getting too long. Any feedback, comments, reblogs, etc. will make my day sunny and bright! 💖 Dividers by @benkeibear!

Pure, unbridled terror overwhelms you as Captain Sukuna drags you back into his quarters and slams the door shut behind him. He’s angry, you can feel it even though he’s still wearing his regular, smug expression. The fact that he’s not outwardly showing his rage is somehow even scarier. 

“Sukuna, I’m sorry! I-“

He suddenly rips the dress over your head, cutting off your pleading voice. You’ve been naked in this room many times, but you’ve never felt more vulnerable. You curl in on yourself, wrapping your arms around your body as you shrink away from him. 

“Do you know what I usually do to women who try to escape?” he asks, stepping closer to you. 

You shake your head, tears pouring down your face. 

He grins. “I use a hammer to break their ankles. Then I force them to dance for me.”

You look him in the eyes. “Is that what you’re going to do to me?”

He stares at you, and for a brief moment, the smirk disappears, and an unreadable expression replaces it. But it only lasts a moment before he grins again. “No. I don’t want to hinder your ability to get on your knees for me. You suck my cock so well after all.”

Sukuna puts his hand on your face, wiping your tears gently. “But I have to punish you. You understand that, right? So I’m going over options in my mind.” His hand moves, his thumb brushing over your lips. “I could break your fingers one by one. Watching you try to jack me off with your little mangled fingers might be exciting. Or I could dig one those pretty eyes out of its socket and keep it as a souvenir.”

You flinch as his fingers come dangerously close to one of your eyes. Both his hands are on you now, pulling your arms away from your body. “Of course the easiest way would be to hand you over to my crew for the night, let them take turns fucking all your holes.”

All you can do is look up at him with teary eyes, the occasional shudder or hiccup shaking your body. 

“But I don’t like sharing my toys,” he says, one hand moving to your hair while the other slides down to lightly grope your breast. He jerks your head back by your hair, then kisses you roughly. When he pulls away, he says in that smooth voice of his, “Thirty lashes. With my belt.”

“What?” you ask, not sure you heard him right. 

“That’s the punishment I decided on. I’ll give you thirty lashes. That’s the standard on this ship, though we use a whip on the men. I’ll be extremely lenient with you and use my belt.”

You blink away your tears. Being whipped with a belt will surely be painful and humiliating, but it’s far better than broken bones or gouged out eyes. “Why?” you find yourself asking him. “Why be lenient with me?”

He pulls you closer, your body flush against his. “Because I don’t want to completely break you just yet. You’re so delicate,” he says, his large hands moving over your nude, trembling body, “the slightest little thing could crush you. I’m not done playing with you yet.”

You shudder under his touch, his fingers ghosting over your bruises. The room isn’t cold, but you feel an inexplicable chill. 

“Now get on the bed, on your hands and knees,” he commands. 

You do as you’re told, not wanting to anger him any further. When you’re on the bed, facing his headboard, you suddenly feel shaky on his firm mattress. “L-like this?” you ask. 

“Raise your ass higher,” he says, “and spread your knees.” 

You glance back at him in time to see him pulling his shirt off, those mesmerizing tattoos moving with his taut muscles as he unbuckles his thick leather belt. 

He’s seen every inch of you so many times by now, but somehow you feel more embarrassed than usual as you follow his orders. You move your knees far apart and lean slightly forward so that your ass lifts higher than the rest of you. In this position, your pussy is totally exposed. You bury your face in his sheets, mortified. 

“Keep your face up,” he says, stepping closer and wrapping one end of his belt around his fist. “I want to enjoy the expressions you make.”

You look over your shoulder at him as he stands behind you. “Monster,” you mutter under your breath. 

“What was that?” 

“N-nothing!”

He grins, his red eyes seeming to glow menacingly. “I’ll show you a monster.” 

Then, he swings the belt down, hitting it right across both your ass cheeks with enough force to knock your body forward a few inches on the bed. Fresh tears fill your eyes at the pain. You didn’t think it would hurt this much! 

Whack! 

The second hit is somehow worse than the first, and you choke back a sob. You’re supposed to endure thirty of these?!

Whack!

You clamp your hand over your mouth to avoid screaming. In your mind, you’re repeating a mantra: it’s better than broken bones! It’s better than broken bones! 

Whack!

This one hit directly where a previous strike had, and it occurs to you that there’s only so much space on your ass. Meaning most of the hits are going to be on already damaged flesh. 

Whack! 

You whimper, finally letting pitiful cries escape you. 

Sukuna pauses, stepping around to the side to look at your face. “Don’t tell me you’re breaking already,” he says in a mocking tone. 

“It hurts!” you cry, your hands gripping the sheets beneath you. 

Suddenly you feel his hand on your sore ass. He squeezes it, making you yelp. “It’s supposed to hurt,” he tells you. “This is a punishment, remember? Though I’m not sure your slutty body understands that.”

You look back at him. “What?”

He’s behind you again, staring between your quivering legs. “You’re a mess back here, dripping all over my bed. It’s running down your thighs.”

No way. That can’t be true! You’re not enjoying this! But now that he’s mentioned it, you can feel the wetness there, the fluid sliding down your skin. More humiliated than ever, you try to hide your face again. That’s when his hand slides down, his fingers slipping inside your soaked pussy. 

You gasp, your body jerking. Your first instinct is to try to crawl away, but his fingers feel so good! They’re stroking you just right, and the pleasure is such a sweet distraction from the pain. You let out a weak moan, and you hear Sukuna laugh. 

“You want me to fuck you, don’t you? You’re clenching around my fingers.”

“No!” you cry, you legs growing wobbly from the pleasure. “It just… it just…”

His thumb glides over your clit. “It just what?”

“It just feels good!” you scream, on the verge of climax. 

He moves his hand away, and you whine at the loss. “I’m not letting you cum,” he says, and he brings the belt down again. This time the rough leather collides with your sensitive pussy, and the sting of it makes your vision go white. You cry out, but Sukuna is merciless, giving you five more lashings in the same spot, reducing you to a sobbing mess. 

“Now you’ve got my belt sticky,” he says, holding it up. You can see parts of it glistening with your juices. 

“Please, I don’t think I can take anymore!”

He moves to the side again, this time putting a hand on top of your head, rubbing your hair. “You can, and you will. And when it’s over, I’ll reward you. I’ll make you cum until you lose your mind, then I’ll fuck this needy little cunt until you can’t walk.”

*********************

Sukuna loves the look on her face, the mixture of arousal and pain. He’s already so hard he could burst out of his pants, and watching her drenched pussy twitch and leak is making it very difficult for him. But he’s strong enough to hold back until her punishment is over. 

He continues the lashings, enjoying the sight of the red stripes appearing on her soft skin. Droplets of blood bead along some of the lines, and she makes the sweetest whimpers and sobs. She’s shaking, the sheets balled into her small fists, her lovely face wet with tears. He has to start talking to keep himself from cumming at the mere sight of her. 

“Why did you wait so long to try escaping?” he asks her. “I was just about to give up and go back to my cabin. Were you afraid of getting caught? Or… something else?”

Her voice is so small when she answers, “Something… else…” between strikes. 

“Oh?” Has she broken down to the point that she can’t think to lie? “And what would that be?”

She doesn’t answer, so he gives her a particularly hard strike, and she cries out, dropping her head onto the mattress. He gives her a moment to catch her breath. When she raises her head again, she looks back at him. Her pretty face looks so embarrassed! It’s delicious! 

“I just… had trouble walking out the door,” she finally says. “I don’t know why!”

His hand moves to her wet, quivering pussy again, rubbing it gently. She flinches, probably because of the lines etched into the delicate skin by his belt. “I see. Your body is growing addicted to the pleasure I give you.”

As if to emphasize his point, his fingers stroke her clit, making her moan. 

If Sukuna were honest with himself, he’d admit that he’s also becoming addicted to her body, to the way it responds to his touch, to the way she feels wrapped tightly around his cock. 

To the way she looks at him and says his name. 

There’s only a few lashings left, and bizarrely, Sukuna is eager to finish them. Is it because he wants to fuck her as soon as possible? Or because he’d rather hear her moan than sob? 

He’s being very lenient with her already. He didn’t lie when he told her he usually broke the ankles of those who attempted escape. And he did actually consider doing it to her. But when he looked into her terrified eyes, he just couldn’t bear the thought of maiming her. 

It’s strange. He finds the pain of others arousing, especially that of beautiful women. And he certainly enjoys hurting this lovely maiden. But he doesn’t think he could enjoy seriously injuring her. 

“Last one,” he announces as he swings the belt down a final time. Her body jolts from the impact, but she holds back any sound. Her shoulders are shaking, and he feels the inexplicable urge to pull her into his arms and hold her. But he doesn’t. 

“I believe I promised you a reward.”

She looks back at him sharply as his fingers begin caressing her sore, striped body. “Wait, please, I can’t-“

He finds her clit, rubbing it gently, and her words become a moan. Perhaps as a reflex, her body presses back, toward his hand. He looks over the red lines covering her flesh, admiring the way they criss-cross to make beautiful patterns. He traces them with his other hand, then begins lightly kissing them. 

She shudders, sighing softly. The small droplets of her blood cling to his lips, and he licks them clean. Every part of her tastes so sweet. Speaking of which…. 

“Ahhh!” she cries out when she feels his mouth on her dripping pussy, his tongue invading her folds to lap at her swollen clit. He wants to bite her, but remembers this is a reward, so he licks gently until her whole body trembles and she nearly collapses. She cries through her orgasm, overwhelmed by sensation. 

He continues licking her, his fingers sliding in and out of her. Totally exhausted, her arms give way, and her top half falls limply on the mattress, her ass still slightly elevated and her thighs still spread. It’s such a vulnerable position, it’s almost pitiful. But how can Sukuna resist such a feast laid out before him? 

He makes her cum twice more with his mouth, leaving her weeping and pleading for him to stop. She’s overstimulated, sore, and probably getting emotional. That much is obvious. But Sukuna hasn’t had his fun yet, so he opens his pants and pulls out his rock hard cock, then shoves it into her tender, drooling pussy. 

She cries out in sheer desperation, her body practically a rag doll at this point. He firmly grips her waist and pulls it back toward him at the same time as he thrusts into her, allowing him to penetrate even deeper than ever. He thought she’d lost all strength, unable to move, but she’s clenching him so tightly that he has to think of the smelliest, grossest member of his crew for a moment to try to calm himself down. 

He slams into her, over and over, while she lies there with her tear streaked face smashed against the sheets. Poor little thing. She doesn’t even realize her night is just getting started. 

******************

The next few days go by in a blur. You spend all your time in Sukuna’s quarters. If he’s in the room, he’s usually fucking you, or he’s looking over maps at his desk while you suck him off underneath it. 

When you’re alone, you sleep. Once a day you bathe in his private washroom. So far he’s given you no restrictions on how often you can use the bathroom or what you can eat. From what you can tell, you eat the same things he does. 

One day you realize with a start that you’re looking forward to him returning to his room, looking forward to seeing his face. You can’t understand why. You’ve come to crave his touch, even though he’s rough and often hurts you. Because sometimes, his touch brings you so much pleasure that you think you might die. 

“We’re stopping at a small port today,” he tells you out of the blue. “Just to load up on supplies. You’ll be staying in my quarters of course.”

You nod, having no desire to risk another escape attempt. You got off easy last time. If it happens again, he’ll surely do something terrible to you. 

Sukuna leaves, and you spend the day waiting for his return. When he comes back hours later, he reaches you something wrapped in brown paper. “What is this?” you ask him. 

“A present. Something that suits you more.”

You can’t imagine what it could be, but you sit on the bed and carefully open the package. Inside, you find a beautiful dress made of red velvet with white lace trim. You hold it up, marveling at its luster. “This is for me?”

He’s grinning as he watches you. “Try it on. I think I guessed your measurements well.”

You hurriedly pull off the tattered dress you’ve been wearing, barely feeling any embarrassment at all at this point. Then you pull on the new dress. It fits you perfectly, and feels luxurious. You rush over to the mirror in the corner of the room and look at your reflection. You’re bruised and your hair is a mess, but the dress looks lovely on you. 

“It doesn’t compare to your beauty, but it’s better than the rag you were wearing,” he says. 

You feel heat flood your face. You don’t know how to react when he says something like that. “Thank you for the dress. I love it.”

“Good,” he says. “I’ll try not to rip it off you.”

Two days later, Sukuna invites you to join him on the deck. There’s no celebration this time, but the sun is setting over the water, and he pulls you close to him as the two of you watch. 

It’s a quiet, peaceful moment, and you almost begin to relax for the first time in days. But then you hear a strained voice say, “Sukuna!”

Both you and the captain turn around to find a man standing a few feet away. He’s clutching a shiny silver dagger in both hands as he stares at the two of you. Sukuna looks at him for a moment then says, “You’re not a member of my crew. Who are you?”

The man has rage in his eyes as he says, “My fiancé was on a ship you raided a month ago. You bastards murdered her and left her body ripped open on the deck! Now I’m going  to kill your woman!”

Everything happens so fast. The man lunges at you, pointing the blade right at your chest. You scream and try to put your hands up in a defensive manner. And at the last second, Sukuna moves in front of you, his tall body creating a shield. You hear the terrible sound of a blade stabbing into flesh, and blood splatters across the wooden deck as you cry out Sukuna’s name. 

[moominsuki]

✎ᝰ. REMEMBER THOSE TIMES WHEN YOU WERE LAUGHING, AND NAKED ON MY COUCH ; — silly sex tropes with the boku no hero academia boys.

FEATURING: bakugou katsuki, midoriya izuku, todoroki shoto + kirishima eijirou.

࿄ ! warnings — f!reader, all characters aged up 20+, suggestive, sex talk but silly all around, crack lowkey. / note. this was fun to write. pls take this as a bit of filler while i finish up my super mega bkg fic. loves ya!

✎𓂃BAKUGOU KATSUKI。°˖⌕

it was a rare occasion for bakugou to actually want to show up to a hero gala - when you usually caught wind of any formal event, your blond haired man would vehemently oppose going, opting to stay at home and order some food instead. you couldn’t place what spurned bakugou’s sudden interest in attending the annual convention but as you get into your car, all dressed up and ready to go, you understand why.

“come on, they’re not gonna care if we’re a few minutes late,” pleads bakugou when you arrive at your seats, pressing displaced kisses on your done up face and swat him away slightly.

you whine at him to behave, grabbing at the hand groping at your thighs, your breasts, anywhere he can put his big hands on and you always resort to placing his hands back into the culprit’s lap.

unfortunately for you, bakugou knows how easily turned to mush you are by sweet nothings and fondling because it only takes you 8 minutes for you to cave in, inconspicuously meeting your husband at the rendezvous point. it then takes another 5 for bakugou to have your chest pressed against the mirror, lifting up your gown to touch at your most intimate parts.

“tell me how badly you want it,” he grunts, pulling down his own slacks while you grind your ass and whimper at him.

“be a good girl and take it,” bakugou breathes out gruffly, desire running through his voice and he’s just about to dip inside you-

“i’ve been holding my damn piss in all day - what the fuck? bakugou?!” yells out kaminari and bakugou practically launches himself at the cubicle door to throw the yellow blond out while you’re scrambling to cover up your indecency.

with kaminari sporting a fresh bruise on his jaw as a shameful reminder, you and bakugou vow to never get down and dirty in public spaces. bakugou still adamantly swears to this day that the door was locked.

✎𓂃MIDORIYA IZUKU。°˖⌕

you roll your eyes when you hear another pitiful groan come out of izuku, who’s sprawled out on the couch with a bandaged leg propped up on multiple pillows. he has been out of action with a broken leg for a few weeks now due to an unprecedented villain attack at the agency. it’s rendered him useless, and quite frankly bored and horny out of his mind.

that being said, you outright refuse to have sex with izuku now that he has a broken leg but it hasn’t stopped him from pleading with his big green eyes, pink lips pouting as he guilt trips you from across the house.

“please, y/n, you can just sit on it. i won’t even move a bit. you look so pretty, baby,” izuku whines as you rub lotion into his hands and arms. and what kind of girlfriend would you be to deny him in his time of recovery.

it’s rushed the way that you’re both still half clothed; already grinding on his cock and you’re doing everything in your power to make sure you don’t rest even a little bit of weight on his leg. izuku has never been good at preventing the buck of hips when you clench down on him and today is no different.

he starts subconsciously rutting into you - as he does when his orgasm starts to creep up on him - and one tight clench of your walls forces his lower body to jolt and practically throw you on to his right leg… i.e. the leg that is currently out of action.

a howl of pain emits from your boyfriend and you frantically run to your phone to call the physiotherapist, butt jiggling on the way and izuku doesn’t know what hurts more: his leg or the blue balled dick.

the next time you have sex isn’t until the cast finally comes off and no matter how many puppy dog eyes the man lays on you, you stay resolute on the decision. you even so kindly send him some nudes so he finds solace in his left hand instead of you.

izuku vows to never get another injury again; though his incentives might be slightly skewed.

✎𓂃TODOROKI SHOTO。°˖⌕

it is never a smart idea to have sex in your partner’s childhood home. it’s one thing to fuck in their bedroom; but it’s a whole other bridge to cross when it’s in their parents’ bedroom.

that being said, todoroki hates needlessly having to go to his childhood home. however, fuyumi is out of town for work; being that none of his siblings except for him could house sit and that shoto has a soft spot for his older sister, he decided to just suck it up.

luckily for him, you offer to keep him company for the next few days at his childhood home and shoto would never pass up an offer for the chance to be alone with you - considering both your inflexible work schedules and the fact that you both have roommates, shoto knew this would be a once in an annual experience.

so it was inevitable, really, that shoto would come home from a long day of patrolling and to see you donned in sexy, red lingerie, strolling up to him with your manicured hands placed delicately on his chest. and, being the succubus that you are, you both decided to do the deed in the nicest bedroom in todoroki estate: his father’s bedroom.

with every flex of his hips, shoto has you and the bed nearly folded into one being - you're moaning, begging for him to go faster as you grapple pathetically onto his shoulders while he grunts, grabbing the headboard to speed up his movements.

“that's it, pretty girl, just like that,” shoto groans, lifting your thigh to place it on his shoulder and this new position means that you feel it so much more; but it also means that the legs of the bed start scraping on the hardwood floor... and has the headboard always been so creaky?

you get your answer when a snap! releases above your head and you're about to look up when the middle of the bed caves in with a pitiful oomphh. at this point, the duochrome haired man is still snug inside you and he quickly wraps a hand behind your head to cushion the fall. the silence is ridiculously loud until you both look at each other and burst out laughing.

“my dad is going to kill me,” shoto sighs into your neck and you comfort him with a few soft touches to the nape of his head.

naturally, the pair of you continue your romp in other places of the todoroki home and by the time fuyumi comes back, she's met with a raging enji todoroki holding a sketchy, sprawled out note of:

“sorry >:] - shoto.”

✎𓂃KIRISHIMA EIJIROU。°˖⌕

kirishima regards himself as someone with high restraint and while that does dwindle when he's around you, he's still able to control himself, despite the lust-filled glances and borderline sexual touches you throw at him.

today is not one of those times.

he’s already very pent up, extremely touch starved from this three week long mission away from you. yeah, they bagged the villain, as to he expected. but at what cost? he’s found company in two pillows and pictures of you in the meantime but they do little to quell his thirst for you.

it’s around 5am when you pick him up from the airport and even though you’re both tired as hell - kirishima being jet lagged and you not being used to waking up at these ungodly hours, - the way you touch him is not that of an exhausted woman. and given the days, weeks he’s had, who was he to deny you?

throwing his suitcases haphazardly in the trunk of his your car, nary a word is said as he throws you on to his lap in the backseat, touching and fondling every bit of you to relieve himself. the red head is rockhard in mere minutes (no pun intended) and the two of you don’t even bother to partake in foreplay, both pent up from the time apart.

kirishima grunts into your neck, the back of your thighs sat in his wide palms as he hammers into you, “missed this pussy so damn m-much, fuck.” it’s desperate and the windows start fogging as an effect of the rushed ministrations but you can’t find it in yourselves to care much.

kirishima lets go of one of your thighs to hoist it around his hips, opting to place a palm on the window and unknowingly leaving a incriminating handprint.

it was just his luck that the paparazzi caught wind of the heroes that would be leaving this airport, camping outside of the building all morning. it was just their luck that they recognised red riot’s car sat idol in the parking lot. with their cameras set to burst multiple frames a second, they make a beeline to the car… and upon further inspection, they notice the car shaking slightly, as if there were somebody inside.

it’s a shame that all the paps didn’t exactly get the memo of what was going on, with a bright faced obvious newbie giddily taking a photo, flash and sound click on at full blast.

the shaking stops and muffled shuffling ensues. the group of shutterbugs are mortified to see a ragged kirishima exit the car, brows furrowed and lips pursed.

the paps didn’t really lose much out of this equation, though: who even needs those photos when a hefty check was on offer instead?

࿄ ! — all rights reserved © moominsuki. please do not copy, translate, repost nor recommend my work outside of tumblr. this is strictly prohibited.