#i can't breathe i cried so much today

[palesoftangel]

i miss him i missj him i miss him whyyy didn't he check on me i look for him at every protest vid i see because i know he is there everything reminds me of you why don't i cross your mind

[candied-cae]

All I have to say about tonight's episodes is that I deserve a new Frenchie song RIGHT GODDAMN NOW

I have been waiting oh so very long, looking forward to my little guy's delightful little jams, and now that The Revenge isn't just the most depressing boat sailing across the Caribbean, he better put that fucking lute in his hands and get to work.

I need a new sprightly little pirate song to play when I need a dopamine hit. Please, Frenchie, have mercy on me.

Please, David Jenkins and Joel Fry, have mercy on me.

[thedreadvampy]

anyway this week I leant on my therapist's shoulder and ugly cried for like 10 minutes and as I was leaving I was like 'don't give me that face' and she was like 'I'm just very proud of your progress!' and I'm like 😡😡😡😡😡 THANK YOU 😡😡😡😡😡

[ynbabe]

Cute situations w/ f1 drivers- ep2.

Asking the drivers if they 'wanna nap?'

Charles:

"Wanna nap?" You asked the man as soon as he stepped into his hotel room, tired and eyes red. You knew Ferrari wasn't some winter wonderland but you didn't know why Charles put up with it.

You had been close friends with the man, since before he'd started f3 too, you knew he bled Ferrari red but this wasn't bleeding this was suicide.

Nonetheless, you were there for him, every weekend, only today there wasn't much to do, he had just come back from some meetings. He looked at you and hummed, taking off team-issued merch and throwing himself on the bed beside you.

You turned on some sad Adele song and faded into sleep, holding the boy close to you, his head resting on the curve of your neck.

Carlos:

"Wanna nap?" You asked Carlos as you both walked into his drivers' room, it was early in the morning at the Las Vegas GP and just as the year before they had messed up the timings and the drivers had to wait till four-thirty in the morning to get on with the programme.

Knowing the both of you, you were sure if you hadn't extended the offer the both of you would have ended up doom-scrolling through Netflix looking for some show to watch fighting off sleep.

"What?" He asked, shocked at the offer for a second before raising his browns and winking at you, "You finally feel my charm didn't you?" he laughed as he climbed onto the small and rickety bed next to you. "Smooth operator strikes again," he praised himself, pulling you close to him, enveloping you in his arms as the big spoon.

You groaned and kicked his shin, making him complain, "Dude you're so fucking lame!" You made fun of the older man who only replied with terrorism (tickling you,) "S-top, stop, I'm sorry," you laughed, trying to escape the death grip he had on you, eventually getting him to stop.

He let you catch your breath as he set an alarm, before trapping you in his warm arms again, both drifting into a comfortable sleep.

Lando:

It was way past midnight but you couldn't sleep, unable to get yourself out of the party high, too drunk to rest your brain. Thankfully you weren't the only one.

There was a barrage of knocks on your hotel room, a slurred voice with a British accent begging to be let in. "Y/n/nnnnn, I can't sleep," he cried once in the room, stumbling over nothing as you both made your way to your bed.

You giggled as he fell, brushing his hands over the cold blanket. You joined him, crawling onto the bed slowly as the room around you spun. You laid on your back, clinging onto the bed for dear life.

Lando noticed and piled on top of you, making you raise a question brow. "So you don't fall off," he muttered, his face buried in your chest.

"Ohhhh, that makes sense," you said, understanding his thought process as the spinning slowed down. "We should nap," you said out loud, eyes shutting due to the comforting warm weight on top of you.

Lando hummed in return, wrapping his hands around your waist, as you pulled one hand up to his and another grabbing his curls for extra support.

Oscar:

There were two things everyone knew about Oscar, he hated waking up early and he loved sleeping. So when his trainer woke him up on a perfectly cosy yet cool Monday morning to exercise, he nearly wanted to kill the man, only stopping because that would take much more effort than simply going through with the workout.

Your apartment was closer to the gym than his, so he happily invited himself in to bitch and moan about his trainer and how that man must have hated him.

Rolling at your friend's antics, you pushed away your laptop, walking from the dining table to where he was sitting on your sofa.

"Wanna nap?" You had barely finished your question when you were pulled onto the Australian.

"I thought you'd never ask," he whispered, as he shuffled on the narrow sofa to get comfortable, you still on top of him, his arms wrapped around your waist and your face buried in his neck.

"Are you using me as a teddy bear?" You asked incredulously, trying to get up to no avail as the man's grip on you was far too strong.

"Yes, now let me sleep," he murmured, already half gone.

George:

George had a habit of pushing himself too far, ever since he was a child. When you guys had just newly become friends, the boy had spent hours trying to find out what exactly you liked and didn't, stalking your Instagram and your family's Facebook.

You had found it endearing but also concerning how he always wanted to be perfect. So when you walked into his house at midnight (you got a key made- there's a reason the both of you got along so well,) and found him staring unblinkingly at his laptop and a large mess of papers spread across the wooden coffee table.

"Dude, what is wrong with you," You whisper-yelled at the man making him jump, pressing a hand to his chest.

"Me? What is wrong with you?" He yelled, panting as you jumped over the back of the couch, sitting right next to him, ruffling through the papers much to his chagrin.

"Shut it, Georgie boy," you smirked at him using the nick name he hated. “What are you even doing, it’s so late?” You asked looking at the taller man who started off in a rant about the car and everything he was doing wrong, making you slide down on the sofa till you head was resting on the backrest. You lifted your feet up to rest them on the coffee table, making George rush to move a stack of papers so they wouldn’t be under your feet.

Perfect. You grabbed the man’s shoulders and made his head rest on your lap.

“What on earth are you doing!” He yelled more than asked, trying to get up but you doubled down.

“George you need to sleep,” you deadpanned as he tried to make you let him go, knowing his pleas fell on deaf ears he gave up.

You raised your brow, “wanna nap?” You asked teasing the boy.

“Only for a few minutes,” he pressed, making himself comfortable, while you tangled your fingers in his hair, “maybe more then,” he sighed and let his eyes shut, slightly watering and finally fell asleep.

Lewis

Lewis had never been a friend to you, he was more like an annoying yet caring older brother or like a fun uncle of sorts. The man was fiercely protective of his friends, even those whom he saw in animosity.

But you were different, Lewis would steal your coffee, eat your food, and push you around but he'd also sneak you Red Bull (much to his disgust,) into his driver's room during late races, walk you to your hotel room after parties and get you souvenirs from races you couldn't be at. Similarly, you loved to annoy the man, stealing his expensive jackets, which looked hilarious due to the size difference, stealing his headphones and running away with them and most importantly coming to him with your problems day or night.

So no, Lewis wasn't surprised when you showed up to his driver's room in the middle of the day, even though Toto had revoked your pass for the day (for bullying George, but it was worth it,). He was ready to tease you but then he saw your eyes, red and tears flowing down your face.

"Oh my god, are you okay?" He immediately came up to you, giving you a once-over to see if you were injured. "Did someone say something, are you hurt?" He asked panicking at your silence. You simply wrapped your arms around the older man, hiding your face in his chest, quietly sobbing and sniffling.

He walked you both to the sofa in his room, seating you down, trying to wipe your tears, "Do you wanna talk about it?" He asked as you finally calmed down, using his arm as support to sit up.

You cleared your throat, "No, I just wanna nap," you hiccuped slightly.

"Okay," he leaned back so you could rest your head on his shoulder, giving you one of his airpods to relax, which you gladly accepted.

Lance & Fernando (they aren't always gonna be together but the situations... THE SITUATIONS WRITE THEMSELVES)

"Oh honey that’s not," Lance said pointing to your coloured hair (matching with Alex) and thats how the conversation had started and had ended in a cat fight.

“At least I’m not a nepo baby,” you yelled as you threw a basket of oranges at him, which he dodged, darn those f1 reflexes. The basket itself smacked him square in the face, leaving a red indent across his nose. He glared for a second before jumping over the table you were fighting across and pulled your hair. “Owww, you bitch”

You bit his hands in defence, to which he kicked your shin, screaming you launched yourself at him, crashing the both of you to the ground, “oh my god, okay, truce, truce,” he panted, pushing you off him.

“Just so you can catch your breath,” you retorted making him mock you. In reality, you were definitely much more tired than he was. You were struggling to catch your breath, your head killing you where he grabbed a large chunk of your hair.

You turned to look at him, resting your head on his stretched arm, he was massaging his nose, the bruise turning purple now, “well that was fun,” he turned to face you.

“Sooooo fun,” you rolled your eyes, “wanna nap? My heads killing me,” you are far him in accusation but he glared right back pointing to his swollen nose.

“Sure,” he shrugged, shifting closer to you and closing his eyes. You opened your mouth to make a joke but were interrupted, “there are like a million oranges on the floor right now, I’ll throw one at you,” you accepted defeat and fell into a comfortable sleep.

That’s how Fernando found the both of you, slightly scowling but fast asleep, he took a picture for blackmail’s sake and placed a blanket over the two of you.

PT-2 w/ Max, Logan, Alex, Daniel, Yuki, Pierre, Esteban, Zhou.

[chaussetteblanche]

UGH UR LUKE ONES ARE TO GOOD😣😣imma new reader of yours but there to good do u think you can do a a child of hades with luke and maybe its a grumpy x sunshine type of thing😓☺️

thank you so much baby !! and thanks for requesting, i hope you like it !!

sweatshirt

pairing : luke castellan x child of hades!reader summary : a few moments of your relationship with luke word count : 1.4k warnings : none, fluff

"Baby, have you seen my sweatshirt?" Luke's voice brought you out of your thoughts. You closed the book you were reading and placed it in your lap, looking up at him as he approached. "Which one?" "The grey one, you know, my favourite. I've been looking for it all morning." He sighed and ran a hand through his hair, tousling it slightly. "Nope, haven't seen it, sorry," you shrugged apathetically and returned to your book. Luke pursed his lips and placed his hands on his hips. "I could've sworn I left it in your cabin the other night, d'you think your brother maybe took it?" he asked hesitantly. "Nah, that's not like him." You brushed him off easily, trying to concentrate on your book.

Luke trudged forward and leaned down on the armrests of your seat, bringing his face close to yours. The pleasant smell of his body wash reached you as he moved closer. "Good morning, sunshine." He tilted his head to the side, smiling softly at you.

"Morning." You looked up at him, unimpressed but holding back a smile. He'd come up with the nickname when you'd first started dating. It was entirely ironic and you hated it. Well, you didn't actually hate it but you acted like you did, which made Luke love it even more. He pouted and pressed a chaste kiss to your mouth. "Will you tell me if you see my hoodie?" "Sure thing. I'll see you later." "Later, baby." He pressed another short kiss to your mouth and walked off. When he was a good fifteen meters away from you, he turned around. "YOU LOOK BEAUTIFUL TODAY, SUNSHINE!" he hollered. Everyone in the vicinity turned around to look at you and Luke, chuckling. Your cheeks burned and you hid your face behind your book, grumbling to yourself. "Good luck finding your sweatshirt after that, Castellan."

You crossed him on your way to training. He beamed when he saw you and jogged over, running a hand through his hair. "Hey, sunshine. Gimme a hug, yeah?" "Clingy, much?" you asked as you opened your arms for him. He chuckled and wrapped his arms around you, burying his face in your neck. "You okay?" you questioned into his hair, one hand coming up to run through his soft curls. He nodded and lifted his head to look at you. "Just tired, is all. You?" "Yeah, I'm okay. I'll see you at capture the flag?" "You sure will, babe." He pressed a kiss to your cheek and jogged off.

Later in the afternoon came capture the flag. You always ended up on the same team because people knew it was useless to put you in opposite sides. You simply wouldn't even try to fight or stop each other.

"Y/N, what are you doing? Go after him! He's got the flag!" Your team captain growled at you, gesticulating wildly. "No." Your arms were crossed as you leaned against a tree, watching him run off after you'd basically handed him the flag you were supposed to guard. You bit back a smirk, feeling proud of him. "I can't believe this," your team captain mourned, throwing his helmet onto the ground with a clatter.

"Luke, she's getting away!" Clarisse cried out as she reached the tall child of Hermes, out of breath after having chased you through the forest. You'd slipped right under all their noses and grabbed the flag from her. Luke watched as you turned around, a rare smile playing at your lips as you raised the flag in victory, laughing loudly. "Goddammit," Luke groaned, running a hand over his face, "that smile." He shook his head, a lovesick look in his eyes. Clarisse cursed loudly. "YOU GET 'EM, BABY!" Luke yelled before you were out of earshot. You flashed him a brilliant smile and he swore that he could have died right there and then and been happy. Clarisse stomped her foot, positively fuming as she cursed Luke out.

You had both been stationed strategically by Annabeth. You were near the river, supposed to stop anyone on the other team from crossing. Luke rested his head on your shoulder, stifling a yawn. "I'm tired," he all but whined, rubbing his eyes. "I'm tired," you repeated in a mocking voice. He pulled away from your shoulder, faking an offended look. "Are you making of fun of me? How dare you? Your chivalrous boyfriend, exhausted from the trials and tribulations of his hard life as a half-blood and you-" "Oh, shut up." You pulled him closer by the leather straps of his armour, pressing your lips against his. He effectively stopped talking, pulling you closer to him by the hips as he kissed you deeply. You tilted your head to the side and parted your lips, tangling a hand in his hair. He let out a small groan and went to deepen the kiss when you were interrupted.

"YO! LOVEBIRDS!" a voice called loudly, followed by the sound of rapid footsteps. You pulled away from Luke with a groan, turning around to find a member of the opposite team holding your flag bolting towards you at full speed, followed closely by a boy on your team. You stuck your leg out, effectively tripping the boy on the other team. He fell harshly onto the ground with a groan and you pulled out sword, pointing it at his neck. He cursed and dropped the flag onto the ground. You looked at the boy from your team, who was doubled-over, catching his breath. "Yes?" you deadpanned. You heard Luke laughing behind you and cracked a small smile.

That night, after dinner, you accompanied Luke to his cabin. He swung your intertwined hands back and forth as you walked. "How come you were so tired today?" you asked softly, turning away from the sunset to look up at Luke. He shrugged, not giving you an explanation. "How're you sleeping?" "Not much," he confessed quietly. "I go to bed and I just lie awake. And when I do finally fall asleep, I get them, y'know, nightmares." Your heart ached for him and you squeezed his hand. Every half-blood dealt with nightmares and sleeping problems, but some more than others. Luke had it the worst. He didn't like talking about it either and you were often forced to overlook and keep your mouth shut about the dark circles under his eyes for the sake of preventing an argument. When you reached his cabin, you stood on your tiptoes and pressed a kiss to his lips. "Sleep well." "Thank you, baby. You too. And thanks for walking me back." He kissed you once more before letting go of your hand. You watched him enter his cabin, your stomach churning at the thought of him spending another sleepless night.

That night, you who couldn't sleep. Thoughts of Luke, his insomnia, his nightmares and more clouded your mind. You twisted and turned for hours before finally getting fed up. You got up, rubbing your eyes and steadying yourself on the wall as you put your shoes on. You quietly exited your cabin and made your way to the Hermes one. The door was open halfway, as it often was. So many people sleeping in the same room left quite a disgusting smell if the air didn't circulate. You slipped inside without a sound and headed for Luke's bed. It was a trip you'd made many times before and you knew exactly that he was the on the left bottom bunk four beds away from the front door. It was dark and you couldn't see if he was sleeping or not. You started taking off your shoes, not making a sound.

"Sunshine?" he asked, his voice gravelly, as he sat up in bed, the covers pooling around his hips. "I couldn't sleep. Kept thinking 'bout you not being able to sleep, so I thought I'd come over and we'd help each other out." Your voice was quiet as you spoke and you pulled the sleeves of the sweatshirt you wore over your hands. You shuffled on your feet next to his bed. "That's actually really sweet, sunshine," he cooed before lifting the covers and scooting to the side. He knew he always slept better with you by his side but had never asked you before. He didn't want to be a burden. "C'mon, pretty girl, get in."

You didn't have to be told twice before you slipped under the covers and slotted yourself comfortably against him. He wrapped his arms around you, kissing your cheek. His warmth and the weight of his arms comforted you immediately and you could feel sleep already weighing on your eyelids. "Good night, sunshine." "Good night, Luke."

You were just drifting off to sleep when a few minutes later he spoke again. "Is that my sweatshirt?" You froze, suddenly wide awake. You didn't say anything for a few seconds before answering. "No...?"

[vapekingg]

“You know I like my girls a little bit older.” — Your Love by The Outfield

February 14th, 1986

Eddie knows exactly how you want to spend your first Valentine’s Day together — in the back of his van with the windows steamed up.

A takeout pizza sits half-eaten and torn apart in the box near a makeshift pallet that you’ve gotten somewhat used to over the past few months. A single floodlight that shines into the front windshield is the only light, and it’s just enough. Just enough to cast Eddie in this dim orange-gold glow that shimmers off of the sweat dripping down his stomach.

He always gets worked over pretty quickly when you’re on top, and tonight you needed it. That control, that stress relief.

You’d told your boss at the record shop that Valentine’s Day would be a banger. It has been since you’d started there at sixteen. But what would you know? He’d scheduled you open to close, all by yourself, no question as to whether or not you might want to spend today with your boyfriend.

“Motherfucker,” Eddie’s moan wavers as his head lulls back against the inner wall of his van.

He’s all soft when it’s like this. All praise and devotion. Eddie’s palms swirl around the globes of your ass gently as you lift your hips up and down. He’s holding you close, your beasts against the warmth of his chest, your clit grinding against the coarse hair beneath his waist, his little grunts and cries and whimpers dying along the column of your throat. They inch up your neck and tickle your ear, urging you to keep going despite the burn in your thighs.

“It’s okay, baby. Just take what you need,” Eddie says between labored breaths when he notices the tremble in your hips.

But what you need is him deeper.

You adjust yourself above him, leaning back on your palms so that he slips further inside of you, the base of his cock widening to stretch you open.

There it is.

“Fuck!” You rasp, your hips jerking forward from sudden sensitivity.

Every rut drives you closer to the edge. Every stroke drags the veins of his thick cock against the walls of your dripping cunt. Sweat slicked palms trace up the curve of your thighs to keep you balanced while you ride, and each inch of your skin grazed is ignited like wildfire.

“That’s it, angel. Look at you,” he grits between clenched teeth. “Thought about this all fucking day…”

It must be killing him, holding back like this.

If it were up to him — and it usually is — you would be bent over the front seat right now. You wouldn’t know your own goddamn name, let alone care.

But you like how he looks when he lets you take control. His eyes half lidded and mouth slightly parted, sweat clinging to the hair framing his pretty face. It made the trembling thighs worth it.

“Did you?” You ask him, not caring so much if he responds but knowing that Eddie just likes to hear you when he’s like this.

“Ffffuck, yeah I did…” he moans, his grip tightening on your hips.

Another rut of your hips and his upward thrust meets yours.

"Eddie—" You cry out.

But he doesn't stop. With every stroke of your waist against his, Eddie is there to meet your ministrations. He's watching you. You can feel his eyes tracing over your flesh even with yours closed. The bounce of your breasts, the ripple of your pillowy stomach, Eddie takes in it all.

"That's right. Say my name, baby." The pink of his tongue lashes out to dart over his thumb before he drags the digit down your center.

The second he starts — the quick, gentle motion of his thumb soon growing frantic — it's the beginning of the end.

The swollen tip of his cock nudges its way to that spot deep inside of you that shuts your brain right off. Only he knows how to find it, and he's so fucking good at finding it. Once there, a salacious grin spreads across Eddie's face.

"Right fucking there, baby." He praises you, hands heavy on your hips, weighing you down so you can't move.

You're stuffed full of him, spread open around his thick length and dripping down the base. The receptors in your brain are firing at all cylinders and you've never felt this fucking euphoric before.

Until he grinds up into you.

Your orgasm hits you all at once, without warning. It washes over your entirety and has you begging him for both more and less simultaneously. And Eddie has never been one to give you less.

He feeds you his cock, thrusting up into your sopping cunt now, the van around you shaking in time with your depravity. It's all happening in passing, at the very back of your mind. All you can focus on is the constellations exploding in your vision as Eddie's pathetic little grunts morph into wanton moans of satisfaction.

A few spent moments later, you can feel your joint release leaking out of you. Eddie lays back on the floor of his van with his hands above his head, skin shimmering with the reflection of drying sweat off of yellow floodlights.

It truly is the perfect Valentine's Day. Now that you can think clearly, maybe your shift wasn't all that bad.

With his eyes still closed, Eddie reaches for the joint he'd left in his pants pocket for safekeeping. He lights it while on his back and takes two deep hits before passing it to you. The radio near the back door plays quietly in the background. You don't know what song is on. Boss had you playing Hounds of Love by Kate Bush all day on repeat.

But Eddie seems to know the tune.

He jerks up in his seat, hand wrapping quickly behind your back so that you aren't knocked off of him.

"Hey!" You shout, trying to keep the ruby red tip of the joint away from his beautiful hair.

"Shush," he slaps the volume dial on the radio, knocking it up more than enough notches. "This song is about us!"

Josie's on a vacation far away, come around and talk it over. So many things that I wanna say.

Eddie strums an air guitar behind your back and his eyes pop open wide as he sing-screams the next lyrics.

"YOU KNOW I LIKE MY GIRLS A LITTLE BIT OLDER!"

Your eyes roll back as you exhale the smoke from your lungs.

He'll never let those six months you were alive before him go.

[starstruckmiraclekitty]

Just got this idea and it made me cry ok so for 141+König where the reader suddenly walks up to him and just kisses and holds him while crying cause they love him so much and they panicked at the thought of losing him maybe sth happened and they got scared or maybe they were just thinking about it idk FUCK I love them so much can't bear the thought of anything happening to them 😭💔

141 + Königs Reactions To You Crying For/Over Them

Warnings: swearing, crying, mentions of death, mentions of bullying, angst

Simon Ghost Riley-

You hadn’t been able to find Simon all day. You chalked it up to the both of you being busy on base, but usually you’d always caught a glimpse of him throughout the day.

You had a gnawing feeling at your chest, but weren’t able to act upon it until later that night. You found Simon on the rooftop of base, staring up at the night sky as he took a drag of his cigarette.

“I thought you quit smoking.” You teased, slowly walking up to him.

When Simon didn’t give his usual witty remark in reply, you knew something was wrong. His eyes remained glued to the stars, and you could see that his eyes were red.

“Simon, are you okay?” You asked, your hand resting on top of his in a comforting gesture. “Talk to me.”

Simon tore his eyes away from the sky, and flicked his cigarette over the railing. “It’s the anniversary today.”

“Anniversary?” You asked, your brows furrowing in confusion.

“It’s been 6 years since they died.” Simon said, his voice hoarse from crying.

“Your family?” You asked, giving his hand another squeeze. In the years you’d been together, Simon had only talked about his family a few times, and you were never one to press the subject. Simon was a reserved man, and you’d don’t want to push your luck with that.

But Simon told you everything that night. Every little detail of his life when he was a child. The kind of man his father was. How his family was murdered and that the only thing he could do for them was to get revenge. No detail was spared, and once he was done speaking, Simon found a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. He’d finally let someone in.

He took a breath, and looked up at you to find you sobbing. You didn’t know what to do, other than throw yourself into Simon’s arms, gripping around his waist at tight as you possibly could.

“Simon, I am so, so sorry you’ve gone through that. I don’t know.. I don’t know what to say other than I’m here for you. I will always be here for you.” You cried into his chest. “I love you, more than you’ll ever know.”

“I know, kid.” He said, his eyes softening as he looked down at you. “I know.”

John MacTavish-

You awoke in a cold sweat, breathing rapidly as you blinked away hot tears. You’d just had the worst nightmare. You were out on a mission, when Johnny was killed right in front of you. The dream felt so real, and your heart was aching at the very real possibility that you could lose him on a mission.

You looked next to you, and found Johnny’s side of the bed cold and empty. It was clear he hadn’t been in bed for some time.

You threw the covers off of you, throwing one of Johnny’s hoodies on before making your way toward the gym- somewhere you knew he would be at this hour.

You breathed a shaky sigh of relief as you laid eyes on Johnny. He’d worked up quite the sweat, and it was clear he’d been here for some time.

Your legs reacted before your brain could catch up, and you found yourself grabbing Johnny by the collar of his shirt and roughly placing your lips on his.

You pulled back, breathless as you looked up as Johnny with tears in your eyes. He immediately frowned, his brows furrowed in concern.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart. Are you alright?” His hands rubbed at your arms soothingly.

“I- I had a dream. You were gone and there was nothing I could do.” You sobbed, rubbing away at your tears as your eyes drifted to the floor. “I woke up and you weren’t there.”

Johnny pulled you close to him, his arms holding you tight against his chest as he pressed kisses along your temple. “I’m here, Bonnie. It was just a dream. I’m so sorry I wasn’t there when you woke up. I couldn’t sleep.”

“It felt so real.” You said, pulling away. “I.. I don’t know what I’d ever do if I lost you. I just.. I can’t even comprehend it.”

“Then don’t. Because I promise you, I will do everything in my power to keep coming back to you, okay?” Johnny asked, lifting your chin up so that your eyes met his. “I’m not going anywhere.”

You sniffled in return, rubbing your teary eyes against his shirt causing Johnny to chuckle softly. “Let us get back to bed, yeah?”

“I’m not even tired anymore.” You mumbled, not pulling your face from Johnnys chest.

“Well, it’s a good thing a beds good for more than just sleeping, eh?” Johnny threw you a cheeky smile, before lifting you in his arms. “Gotta show my babe I’m not going anywhere.”

John Price-

Everything happened so fast. One minute, John was by your side as a hail of bullets rained down on the two of you in the field. The next, John was halfway across the field, oblivious to the enemy behind him. It was a blur, the man raised his gun, and proceeded to shoot John in the chest.

“John!” You shrieked, watching as the man you love fell to the ground. Your heart began to beat wildly in your chest as your brain started to malfunction. Nothing else around you in that moment mattered. He couldn’t die, not like this. He couldn’t leave you.

You sprinted across the field, ignoring the shouts of the other soilders around you, your eyes welling with tears as John’s frame came into view.

You skidded to your knees, your hands immediately reaching for John’s face.

“John!” You whimpered, your eyes skimming down the length of his body.

“Baby, hey. It’s okay. The vest caught it. It just knocked the wind out of me.” John reached out to grab your hands, trying to calm you down, to no avail.

Your hands continued to frantically pull at his vest, you needed to see he was truly unharmed with your own eyes. “No! No you got shot!”

John grasped your hands in his gently, forcing you to look at him. “Y/N. Look at me.”

You blinked away tears, your bottom lip wobbling as you threw your arms around him in a tight embrace. “I thought I lost you.”

“I hope you know it’s going to take a lot more than a stray bullet to keep me from you.” John said, before capturing your lips in his. “I promise you I’m okay, alright?”

You nodded, pulling away to help John to his feet. With one final firm kiss, the two of you finished out the mission, neither one of you straying too far from the other.

Kyle Gaz Garrick-

You twiddled your thumbs anxiously, your eyes darting back to the front door of the base every few minutes, praying Kyle would walk through the door.

141 was expected back three days ago, and according to Laswell they’d gone radio silent the day they were supposed to come back.

You choked back a sob, burying your face into your arms. You don’t know what you’d do with yourself if Kyle never came back. He was your everything.

You slowed your breathing, trying to regain your composure when the click of the front door caught your attention. Your head jumped up, your heart immediately skipping a beat as Kyle and the rest of the 141 walked through the front door, looking a little worse for wear.

Without a second of hesitation, your legs moved faster than they ever had in your life as you slammed yourself into Kyle, your arms encompassing his waist in a firm grip.

Your relationship wasn’t common knowledge, so Kyle was quite surprised when you made such a public display of affection, but it wasn’t unwelcome in the slightest. His squeezed you in return, pressing a kiss to your temple. “I’m here, babe. It’s okay.”

“They kept saying you weren’t coming back. That you were all dead.” You cried softly, burying your face in your boyfriend’s chest. “I was so scared.”

“I know, I’m so sorry. Everything’s going to be okay.” He promised, holding you tighter. “I’ve got you.”

The two of you remained inseparable for the remainder of the day, neither one of you taking your eyes off each other.

König-

It was no secret that König wasn’t the most popular person on base. Between his height, the frightening mask he wore, and his timid nature, he wasn’t known for making many friends.

It’d come as a shock to the majority of the people on base when it was announced that you and König were a couple.

You’d heard the whispers of course, just as König did. The rude comments thrown about him behind his back, unbeknownst to you, had König’s self esteem plummeting.

You didn’t find out until late one night when you found your boyfriend alone in the weapons locker, looking the most upset you’d ever seen him.

“Babe? You weren’t at dinner, is everything okay?” You asked, pausing a few paces in front of him. You’d never seen him like this and you were unsure of how to react.

“I’m a freak, Maus.” König spoke, his voice so quiet you can barely hear him. “No matter what I do, no matter how good I am out on the field, no matter how well I follow orders… I’ll always be the outcast.”

Your heart shattered at his words, hot tears forming in your eyes as you stepped closer to him. “König, that’s not true.”

König finally looked up at you, a solemn expression on his face- something you never wanted to see on your lover again. “It is. I know you’ve heard what they say. I’m a monster. I’m weird. I look more like the villain than the hero. It’s all things I’ve told myself before.”

“Look at me.” You said, crouching before him. You quickly wiped away the stray tears that began to fall as you spoke. “You are not any of those things. Those people are fools. They haven’t gotten to know the man underneath the mask. On the field, you’re the battering ram. A powerhouse. The perfect weapon. But off the field? You’re the best fucking person I know.”

You pulled him into a tight hug, holding him close to you as you rubbed his back soothingly. “I love you so much König. If I have to, I’ll spend the rest of my life proving to you how great of a person you are.”

“I don’t deserve you Maus.” He murmured, squeezing you tighter. “But I thank god every day you’re in my life.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: ahh not super happy with this turned out- I’m not sure if I captured this request the best🥺

Excited to keep putting out the next few requests. Thank you again everyone for all your support❤️

[axiina]

I think I'm finally worn

Pairing: Aegon Targaryen x wife!reader

Summary: Aegon managed to keep up appearances for a long time, a mask behind which he hid everything he felt... until finally, he could no longer do so.

Themes: angst, comfort

Warnings: Delulu fanon Aegon, toxic relationship, addictions, depression, mental break down

Author's note: In anticipation of the fifth episode I come with a short angst with Aegon. The scene where he cried and Alicent came out destroyed me, so here we are with comforting our broken boy

Aegon felt awful.

He had no idea if it was due to the excess of alcohol he was pouring into himself every day, or perhaps because of how he was slowly spiralling down. In truth, he felt that his whole life was one big failure heading towards a final doom.

He had always shown by his behaviour that he was not afraid of this moment or perhaps even looking forward to it. The reality, however, was different.

He was afraid. He was so damn scared.

Every moment when he wasn't drinking himself till passing out was a nightmare. He can't even remember how much time has passed since the last time he was sober.

It was easier that way. The days passed quickly and without unnecessary thoughts. Between the drinking and the whores during his days, there was no room for reflection.

Today, however, was worse, but Aegon couldn't tell why.

No one particularly bothered him. His mother didn't pop up with another argument about what a failure he was, and his father...his father ignored him as usual.

And yet, this strange feeling had been with him since the morning. Hopelessness and overwhelm. This state was already familiar to him, and yet today, it seemed several times worse.

It stifled him and left him unable to breathe. His eyes would close with tears when he least expected it, and his clenched throat made it impossible to drink.

Until he couldn't hold it in any longer.

He didn't even notice when his wife entered his chamber, immersed in an overwhelming feeling of hopelessness. Aegon was slumped in his seat, weeping without even knowing why. He was completely defenceless like a small child.

He needed something to soothe the tangle of emotions that, like ties, wrapped around his body, restraining it painfully. His skin seemed to burn, to ache. He felt like scratching it until it bled until it finally stopped.

Make it finally stop.

Aegon looked up at woman in his chamber and realized he couldn't do it. He just didn't have the strength. His wife's worried gaze only made him more upset. He hated the feeling that she could see him now, so vulnerable and broken, crying like a baby. Aegon didn't want this.

And yet, on the other hand, his heart was screaming and begging for at least a little comfort.

"I don't...I don't know..." He tried to speak, but his voice broke. He tried again, but it was clear that he was unable to explain.

Aegon took a deep breath, but after a moment it turned into a sob. He cursed inside, but it was too late to fight already. He felt pathetic, ashamed. But at the same time, he couldn't stand to be alone now. Aegon didn't want to be left alone with all these thoughts tormenting him.

"Please," he said finally, not looking at her. "Don't leave."

He was terrified by the mere thought that she could leave now.

As if waiting for this small sign of comfort, Aegon immediately leaned into her embrace when she walked closer to him in silence and pulled him closer to her body. He rested his forehead against her stomach, his arms snaking around her hips as tightly as possible. He clutched at her dress, his fingers digging into the fabric like a drowning man grasping for anything solid to keep him afloat.

The tears were streaming down his face as he wept like a little boy.

All the years of disappointment, all the suppressed anger, all the pain and despair that he had stubbornly hidden behind a mask of a heartless rake.

But at this moment, the only reality that mattered was her. Her warm and gentle caress on his hair, soft kisses on top of his head.

He just needed her to be there with him.

[upsidedownwithsteve]

[4.5K] Steve Harrington x fem!reader 18+

A/N: sorry, no advent blurb today as we’re v tired and v sick and writing doesn’t sound fun. but please have an old fic that was once on the masterlist

“This is a bad idea,” you whispered, shy, nervous, wanting to curl into yourself.

Steve stayed still behind you, your back to his chest, his legs bent and framing your own. His hand stroked over your knee, a safe distance, one that didn’t add too much pressure to the situation. The boy pressed a kiss to your cheek, nose nudging your temple. “We can stop, if you want.” His voice was quiet and filled with soft sincerity. “It’s okay.”

But you’d asked for this, face flushed, squirming on Steve’s bed sheets ‘cause how on earth did you go from watching Fast Times at Ridgemont High to talking about sex to telling your best friend you’d never had an orgasm?

“What?” He’d asked, face soft with shock. “What about those six months you dated that guy, whatshisface? Liam?”

“Lewis,” you’d corrected, fingers pulling uncomfortably at the blanket Steve kept at the end of his bed for you. “And no, he just couldn’t get me there, I guess. Maybe it was me. It’s gotta be me, I can’t even make it happen myself.”

Steve had paused at that, looking at you with parted lips and soft eyes ‘cause you looked so sad, so frustrated, defeat taking over from the embarrassment you’d felt in admitting such a thing.

“It’s not you,” he’d said, determined. “He should’ve taken his time with you or— or, found out what you liked.”

You huffed out a laugh at that, humourless and tired. You shrugged, hands falling into your lap. “How’s that fair when I don’t even know what I like myself?”

You don’t know what happened after that. Just that the movie was paused and the evening outside turned to night, Steve’s blue room turning navy in the shadows, the dull glow of his bedside lamp making your bare legs turn apricot and rosy in the light. His hand looked so big against your knee, like he could swallow you whole.

You asked him. Voice quiet, words making the boy’s cheeks turn pink. Asked him to help, to show you, to tell you what you were doing wrong which sounded so ridiculous, because Jesus Christ, it was your body, for fuck sake.

You sucked in a deep breath. “No, it’s fine. I’m just— being stupid. We can keep going.”

You felt Steve relax a little behind you, his body sinking into the pile of pillows at his headboard, your body falling into his in turn. His thumb drew circles on the side of your knee, a touch you’d felt before: during a horror movie in the dark of the cinema, in the front seat of his car when you cried about a boy who wasn’t him, when he’d argued with his dad and you piled yourself into his lap for comfort.

“Are you sure?” Steve whispered and his voice was right by your ear, lips almost touching the shell of it. It made you shiver, spine tingling. “And you’re not stupid. This, the way you feel. It’s not stupid, okay?”

You realised he was waiting for you to answer him, so you nodded, chest tight at his earnest words, always trying to make you feel better. He’d once told you when you were both only thirteen, that that was his job and he’d proven it true ever since.

“Yeah, m’sure.” You let your head rest against his, cheek to his chin, day old stubble rough against your skin. “Thanks, Steve.”

A silence swept over you both, not exactly uncomfortable but not an easy one either, not like it usually was. ‘Cause your skirt was hitched up high, the hem of it falling towards the tops of your thighs when you’d bent your knees and sat between Steve’s legs. He’d patted the space there and your body had burned, but you’d obeyed all the same. His thumb was still rubbing circles and your hands lay awkwardly in your lap until finally, finally, Steve took them in his own and placed them flat over your thighs, his bigger ones covering your fingers.

“So you’ve never, ever—?”

“No,” you whispered it back, like a dirty secret. Something to be ashamed about. “Can't even manage it myself… it’s— fuck, I don’t know.” You choked off your own words, heated embarrassment creeping up the back of your neck.

Steve squeezed your hands, gentle, soothing. “S’okay. Do you, uh, do you try? A lot?”

He sounded nervous too and suddenly you were thankful for this position, eyes hidden from each other, knowing his cheeks would be flushed, too pretty to look at. You sucked in a breath and nodded. “Sometimes, yeah. I guess. It’s just— I either get interrupted or it doesn’t feel right and then the times when it does, I just can’t… can’t. You know.”

“Finish?” Steve supplied helpfully.

You nodded again.

“Okay, uh, why don’t you— do you wanna, try? Show me?” You heard him swallow audibly, Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat and you felt his jaw tense against your temple, where you were leaning against him.

You stiffened, and Steve felt that too, so he tangled his fingers between your own and used his thumb and yours to skim up and down your legs. You wondered if he noticed how warm you were, if he realised you were running so much hotter than before.

“It’s just me,” he whispered to you, head ducked tucked down so he words fell into the crook of your neck. He sounded so soft, familiar, like the sixteen year old who’d picked you up from your shitty first date and told you that the next boy that hurt you would have to deal with him. “Do you trust me?”

You licked your bottom lip, mouth dry but you made a noise of agreement. “Yeah, I trust you.” You felt his smile, felt the affection ripple through him and back into you, ‘cause you really, really did. More than anyone, you thought.

“We can stop whenever you want, alright?” Steve said and you bobbed your head, suddenly feeling clumsy, fingers too small between his own, legs splayed out like a broken down China doll. You dug your toes into the mattress and breathed out. “Show me.” Steve whispered again. “Show me what you do.”

It took a second, maybe five, for your heart to stop rattling against your chest, for your bones to stop vibrating. But you took one hand from Steve’s and pressed it between your thighs, hidden under your skirt. Your underwear was still very much on and you were unsure how to go about that, so you squeezed your eyes shut and tried to find your clit the best you could under the cotton, shifting your fingers over the fabric.

Then Steve tsked, a soft sound that didn’t come across as reprimanding as it should’ve, but between that and his hand catching yours again, you stopped, unsure.

“You normally just dive right in like that?” Steve murmured, rubbing his thumb over your knuckle. “Christ, you gotta be nicer to yourself, babe, you need to relax more.”

“I do?”

Steve laughed quietly, a huff of spearmint breath falling across your cheek and wasn’t unkind, it didn’t make you shrink like you thought it would’ve. “Well, yeah,” Steve answered. “You gotta warm yourself up, right? Get in the mood. Hasn’t anyone taken their time with you? Made you feel like, uh, like putty?”

“Putty?” Your lips kicked up at the corners, lashes fluttering as your eyes closed, happy to listen to Steve and the smile in his voice. He sounded shy, and it was lovely, it made you feel better, warmer, ready for what was happening.

“Yeah,” he huffed. “You know, all gooey n’shit. Nice. Relaxed.” Steve sucked in a breath and pressed your joined hands to your thigh, his so much wider and covering much more skin. “You’re real cute, babe, someone’s gotta treat you the same way.”

“No,” you shook your head, trying not to sound too sad about it, ‘cause Steve’s hand on your bare skin was starting to make you feel real nice, warm, just like he was describing. Except you were anything but relaxed, heartbeat a livewire racing through your bones, a new pulse thrumming, stomach jumping at each touch. “You think I’m cute?”

You weren’t sure why you asked that, but suddenly, you were desperate to know.

“You kiddin’?” Steve said and you could hear the smile there, the one you knew so well. He leaned in, chin hooked over your shoulder when he felt you settle back against him, body more lax than before. His lips brushed your cheek when he spoke. “You’re the cutest girl in town, d’you not know that?”

You squirmed, too pleased with his comment but embarrassed all the same. Steve always gave you too much attention but it was the way it had always been, a little flirting over the diner table, his hand on the small of your back when you walked through too big crowds, an offered cheek for you to kiss goodbye when he dropped you home after school.

“Shut up,” you whispered, voice thick and quiet and caught in your throat. You didn’t mean that. You didn’t want him to shut up at all. And Steve knew that.

“Now, if you’re the cutest thing in all of Hawkins,” he continued, emboldened by the way you tucked your head into the crook of his neck, letting your fingers go soft between his own. “Don’t you think you gotta be nice to yourself?”

Your breath stuttered and hitched in your chest and despite the nerves that still pinballed around in your stomach, your thighs dropped open a little, the hem of your skirt hitching higher still and Steve swallowed down a curse.

“I don’t think I know how.” It was embarrassing, admitting it, cheeks on fire, nose scrunched even though Steve couldn’t see.

His hands swept up your thighs, taking yours with them, stopping short of creeping under your skirt before retreating back down to your knees. “Like this,” the boy whispered. “See? Nice and sweet. Slow.”

You wanted to let your hands fall away, wanted to feel Steve’s rough fingertips and wide palms span over your skin but when you tried to pull away, Steve only tightened his grip. “Ah, ah, c’mon. You can’t learn if I do it for you.”

There was a whine stuck in your throat; a bratty, moody noise that you didn’t dare let out in fear of being teased by the boy for all of entirety but Steve seemed to sense your frustration anyway.

“C’mon, you got this.” Steve pressed a quick kiss to wherever he could reach, a warm smack of his lips against the skin under your ear, right by your jaw. “Relax, remember?”

So you did, letting out a small sigh before sinking back into him, legs widening and letting Steve drag your hands up and down your thighs, your skin erupting in goosebumps every time you felt a particularly rough graze of Steve’s short nails.

“What d’you think about?” He asked, voice hushed, almost hoarse. It sounded dirty, like a secret you weren’t supposed to tell anyone else about. “When you touch yourself? What d’you think about?”

You pressed your lips together and shrugged, a gasp wrenching out from you when Steve moved your hands inwards, to the softer dough of your thighs, creeping higher and higher until you felt the cotton and lace edge of your underwear against your fingertips.

“I dunno,” your voice didn’t sound like your own. “Someone else, I guess. Someone’s fingers, instead of my own. Being— being kissed and their, their mouth. Lips. Tongues.”

If Steve’s hips twitched up into your own, you were sure you’d imagined it. But he took a second before he answered, nodding so his nose pressed into your cheek, his hair fell over your own.

“S’good,” he agreed, praising you like any teacher would. “What about their mouth, huh? Where d’you want it?”

You squirmed, face on fire, teeth chewing something rotten at your poor bottom lip and when you didn’t answer, Steve took your hand and placed it over your cunt, the cotton there suddenly more damp than it was before. You wanted to throw yourself out the window. Or worse, at Steve.

“Here?” The boy suggested. He wasn’t really touching you, just his hand over your wrist and fingers, guiding, pressing slightly. “Has someone done that to you? Has someone put their mouth here?”

You shook your head, unable to stop the little whine that came out with it, disappointment colouring the sound. Steve tutted, cooing at you with sympathy and he let out a stuttered sigh when you took it upon yourself to press two fingers closer to your clit, seeking out some friction.

“That’s a real shame, you know that?” Steve’s hands left yours, only to grasp your waist and pull you back into him a little firmer and you’d be lying if you didn’t feel him, hard under his jeans, pressed into the bottom of your back.

It only made you press your fingers into yourself harder.

“It is?” You were breathless, each word a huff of air, face screwed up and eyes shut tight as you tried to work out where you wanted your fingers the most.

“Fuck, yeah it’s a shame, babe.” Steve whispered. “Told you, didn’t I? You’re the sweetest girl there is. And someone’s not tasted you? Not told how sweet you really are?” Steve blew out a breath, as if exasperated. “That’s just unfair.”

“Steve.” You weren't sure what you were whining your best friend's name for. For release? Permission? Guidance? All of the above, maybe.

But Steve seemed to know, ‘cause he nudged your hand closer to your cunt, coaxed you into running your fingers over your cotton covered folds. “Yeah?” He asked and his voice was hoarse, a little wrecked sounding. “Ready for more? Feelin’ good?”

You nodded, clumsy, breath coming out a little heavier than before.

Steve let one finger flirt with the edge of your underwear, along the lace trim where your cunt met your thigh and he snapped the elastic against you, feeling brave when you pressed back against him, like you couldn’t be close enough.

“Want these off?” You heard him swallow hard, sounding quieter than before. “Don’t have to, if you don’t want to. We can do whatever—”

You lifted your hips in answer, one hand holding onto Steve’s thigh for support as the other dragged down your underwear and your cheeks cringed with heat as you caught a glimpse of how wet the cotton was. You balled them into your fist, shoving them to the bottom of Steve’s bed and they lay there like a flashing neon sign, all lilac and buttercream coloured flowers, lacy and mortifying.

Your skirt still covered you, hiding a lot from Steve. But the boy could look over your shoulder and see the way your chest heaved, nipples pebbled underneath your T-shirt, the one you’d stolen from him freshman year and made into a crop top. You were all legs, soft thighs, socked feet digging into his duvet, skirt flirting dangerously with all that bare skin underneath. He tried not to rut up into you, but he knew you had to feel him by now, his hard cock pressed against your spine, twitching at every breathy noise you let out.

“What next?” You asked and you sounded desperate, more pent up than you’d ever felt before and you wondered if it was really because you were taking your time with it, if all these slow touches really worked. You wondered if it was Steve. “Should I just—?”

Your fingers dug into your thighs, sitting over your skin alone ‘cause Steve was gripping at his own knees, knuckles white on the denim. “Fuck,” his voice cracked. “Just, uh, do what feels good, yeah?”

You made a sound of protest, frustration spilling up and out of your throat because this is where it went wrong, fingers fumbling, unsure where to touch to be able to coax you over the edge.

“Hey, hey, s’alright,” Steve assured you, whispering again. “Give me your hand.”

You did, without hesitation, and together, with Steve’s fingers twisted between your own, he guided your touch underneath your skirt. You held your breath as you felt your own fingers - and the boy’s - slip between your folds, your legs parting automatically for him. You felt his breath hitch and fall over your cheek as you let out a tiny moan, urging him on, your fingers following his as he swept up and down your cunt, gathering up the slick there before pressing your middle finger to your clit.

“Yeah?” Steve asked and he sounded awed when you cried out, a soft grunt that made him see fucking God. “That good?”

You could barely speak. “Yeah,” you whispered on a breath, head lolling back to rest against his shoulder, giving Steve an unobstructed view down your front, to the way your hands could be seen between your thighs, skirt rucked up around them.

“Atta’ girl, keep doin’ that, okay?”

You did as you were told, adding your pointer finger to the mix, rubbing the two digits over your clit in soft circles, panting every time you felt Steve’s fingers slip between your own. Steve’s free hand was on your waist, a vice-like grip that you weren’t sure he was aware of, his palm on the strip of bare skin between your top and skirt. Every time you let out a shy noise, he squeezed, kneading at the dough there.

“Jesus Christ,” he muttered, jaw slack as he watched you work at yourself, never letting go of his hand and fuck, fuck, you were so wet, velvet heat under his touch.

“D’you use your fingers?” Steve asked you, lips against your cheek, both of you leaning into each other as if you were unable to help it. “Inside? Do you put your fingers inside yourself?”

Twenty minutes ago, you would’ve died if the boy had asked you such a thing, but now? Now? Now you whined at it, cunt clenching around nothing at the idea of it and you shook your head, temple rubbing against Steve’s cheek in a way that killed him with how fond it was.

“Not really,” you whispered to him, ‘cause even with his fingers slipping over your clit, you were still so shy. “Don’t feel big enough, never- shit - never full enough.”

Steve swore his eyes rolled back into his skull, ‘cause all he could see was white, a blank flash over his vision that felt white hot. He rubbed soothing at your waist, let his fingers span over the width of your side, blunt nails sliding over your ribs. “Poor girl,” he sympathised and he smiled when you whined as he pulled your fingers away. “Shh, gimme a minute, hey? Here, just, try this, huh?”

You didn’t get to ask what he was meaning before the fingers that had been rubbing over your slick skin were in his mouth, two digits pressed to his tongue and Steve sucked. He licked over the pads, most definitely tasting you and you felt his chest rumble with a groan he tried to keep in. And then, as quick as it happened, it was over.

Steve brought your spit slick fingers back between your thighs, nudging the tips of them against your entrance. You keened, hips arching off the bed a little until Steve soothed you back down against him, mouthing over your jaw and cheek in a touch that definitely couldn’t be misconstrued as a kiss.

You sighed as you slid them in, two fingers fucking into yourself as deep as you could manage, slipping in easily with how insanely turned on you were. You hooked them up, like all the articles in the magazines you hid from your parents told you to do, searching for that spot that would apparently make you see stars. But you fell short, fingers not long enough and your clit was aching with neglect.

“Steve,” you felt close to tears, the usual frustration bubbling at the surface of your chest, ready to pop and simmer over. You’d have normally given up by now. “Steve, s’not working.”

“Gotta be patient, babe,” Steve assured you, “gotta be nice to yourself, c’mon, don’t let your head take over.”

But Steve saw the tear that rolled down your cheek and he caught your chin, titling your face towards him as he frowned down at you. You looked wrecked, heartbroken and all pent up, lips red and slick from where you’d chewed at them, eyes all glassy.

He shouldn’t have asked. But he was already in too deep. What does it matter now, right?

Right?

“Want me to help?”

He waited, one second, two, three and then you nodded, relief and disbelief filling his chest all at once. He swallowed back a broken moan and tapped his thumb at your chin, just catching your pouting bottom lip. “You gotta tell me, please?”

“Please, Steve, please. I want you to touch me.”

He’d died. He was dead.

But then you were pulling at his wrist and guiding it back between your legs, your fingers slick from where they’d been inside of yourself and Steve wasn’t sure he was able to handle it. His middle finger nudged up against your entrance and Steve felt it flutter, his eyes closing as he took a deep breath and reminded himself that this was for you, not him.

He was rock fucking hard.

“Ready?” He asked in a last bid for confirmation. You were laying fully against him now, thighs pressed to his, skirt barely covering you and you nodded so furiously that Steve didn’t dare ask you to speak again. “Okay, I’ve got you, alright?”

His finger slid in so easily and you clenched around him, velvet heat that made his heart stutter and his cock kick up against your spine. You immediately felt the difference, the boy’s finger thicker and longer, already reaching parts of you that you’d never felt. You felt like you were going to burst.

“More?” Steve asked and his voice eas shot, eyes closing at the feel of you, your small hand wrapped around his wrist to ensure he wouldn’t stop and Steve wanted to tell you he’d never stop if you didn’t want him to, that he’d do this every fucking day if you’d let him. “Another?”

“Another,” you agreed and god, you weren’t holding back anymore, moans tumbling from your lips when Steve slid another finger in with his first, the feeling of your cunt tightening around him making you both cry out.

Your hips were shifting against him, listing yourself on and off of his fingers and he groaned, stuttered dirty, filthy words into your hair as he let you fuck yourself down onto his didgits. The friction was too much for him, his cock straining in the denim, weeping for release.

“Touch yourself, babe,” he managed to groan out, sighing at the sight of you doing what he told, hand flying to your thighs so you could rub messy, wet fingers over your clit. “That’s it, good girl. Jesus, are you close? I can feel you - fucking hell - I can feel you getting tighter.”

You mumbled something unintelligible, a sob ripping through your chest and Steve decided it wasn’t a good idea to ask, deciding that he needed to get you out of your own head so your body could take over.

“Do you like it when I talk to you?” He asked instead, a whisper against your ear, his breath warm on your neck, his fingers spanning upupup until they grazed the lace of your bra. You rutted against his hand harder, whining when he hit a deep spot inside of you, one that made your vision go blue-white. “You do, don’t you? My girl likes hearing dirty things, right? Like when I asked you if someone had went down on you? If you’d had someone’s tongue here?”

Steve slid his fingers in and out of you a little faster to get his point across, sweating when you moaned his name. His name. Your own fingers were moving with intent now; tight concise circles that were making your toes curl.

“Would you let me do that? Huh?” Steve dared to asked, grinning when you almost ripped the sleeve off his shirt as you grabbed at his arm, lips falling open in a long moan. “Shit, you look so damn pretty, you know that? I could do that for you though, if you wanted.” Steve’s eyes closed for just a second at the thought of it. “Could put my mouth on you, let you know if you’re really as sweet as you look—”

You seized up, body stiffening as you let out a noise Steve would never forget, a breathy moan of his name that he’d think about every time he fisted his own cock. He kept pumping his fingers into you, eyes wide as your own hand faltered and you shook, head slumping back against his shoulder as you decided to hold onto him instead, hands reaching back to grab at his shoulders, his neck, his hair.

Your pussy was a vice around his fingers, filthy, wet sounds filling his bedroom and he was pretty damn sure but he had to ask, he had to know—

“You comin’, babe? Yeah?” You nodded, frantic, eyes slammed shut and nose scrunched up all cute and Steve couldn’t help it, couldn’t stop it. “Fucking hell, oh shit, yeah, there you go, that’s it, that’s it, that’s it—”

He wasn’t even ashamed that he came in his jeans like a teenager, in fact, he was a little insane with it. White spots over his vision as his cock twitched and jumped, letting his hips grind against your ass as you whined, your cunt still fluttering around his fingers as he slowed down the way they pumped in and out of you. He heard you swear when he finally pulled them away, slick with your release, sliding them into his mouth as if hiding the evidence.

Your eyes finally met Steve’s when you turned and flopped onto the bed next to him, mattress shifting as you both panting, chests heaving. He turned to find you already staring, eyes wide and cheeks flushed the prettiest colour, almost matching his own.

“Holy fucking shit,” you managed on a gasp.

“Told you,” he managed to say, fighting to keep the smile of his lips.

“What?” You frowned at him, wondering what on earth he wanted to say to you after that. He still looked like your best friend, still sounded like him too. Maybe just a little more smug. “Told me what?”

Steve took the time to push his finger into his mouth once more, enjoying the way your face burned, lips falling open as you watched, unblinking. He let his tongue wrap around it, chasing what was left of your taste until he let it go with a dirty pop.

“Sweetest girl in this fucking town,” he said.

[reiderwriter]

Satisfaction Feels Like a Distant Memory

Chapter Three of I Can't Help Myself

Summary: Your mounting attraction to Spencer Reid pushes you to the edge, turning begrudging friendship to deep hatred when he finally shows up on your doorstep. He's the only thing that can out you out of your misery even as you sink further into it.

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, hate sex, rough sex, argument as foreplay, oral (f recieving) and face fucking, fingering, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, forced orgasms, "forced" submission, creampie, p in v penetrative sex, etc.

A/N: I've had about as much sleep as the reader in this fic has for the last week, but HERE IT IS! Chapter Three 🥰 You may need a bottle of water on standby, or at least a hand fan, because this one gets a bit heated....

Masterlist || Add yourself to the taglist!

You hesitated in front of your office door, which you supposed was going to become a bad habit of yours now. You tried lying to yourself, that nothing was different now, that you weren't attracted to him in a completely stupid way, but you still stood frozen in front of your own office door. 

Frozen and horny. 

Shit. 

You mentally went through a list of the worst things that could happen if you went in. 

1. He was there. 

2. He wasn't there. 

3. He was there, and he touched you again, and you moaned. 

4. He was there, and he didn't touch you again, but you still moaned. 

5. He was there, and you threw yourself at him immediately because why wouldn't you when you'd seen what you could be working with the night before? Fuck moaning once, moaning multiple times as he pushed you against the bookshelf would- 

“Are you gonna go in, or are you just going to fondle the door handle?” He asked from behind you. From too close behind you. 

You turned, keeping the doorknob in your grin, and immediately flattened yourself against the door as he took a step closer. 

So close. He was so fucking close and it was suddenly all you could think of. 

“W-What?”

“You know, the CDC warns that door handles should be washed every 20 to 40 hours To prevent bacteria like Escherchia coli and Staphylococcus aureus from-” You ignored his words, drowning everything else out as you tried to dampen the fire burning under your skin.

“Cock?” You said, all attempts obviously not working. 

“Staphylococcus, yes. It can cause Adenovirus, Rhinovirus, not to mention-” 

“Okay! Okay, Spencer. Taking my hand off the handle now.” 

Finally, you twisted it and walked backwards into your room, walking backwards a few steps before your foot caught on a stray pile of books. 

“What the-” you cried, waiting for the impact of your landing as you swung out your arms frantically for purchase, screwing your eyes shut as you found none. 

Instead, you found an arm snaked around your waist, another wrapping your hip tight as Spencer Reid cradled your body to his own. 

“Thanks,” you breathed out, not even hearing the words yourself for how much air was in them. How was it possible to expel air and hold your breath at the same time? Because that was how it felt being in his arms: at once a sigh and a stopping of all bodily functions barring want. 

“I thought this was your office, Y/N. Surely you should know the layout by now.”

Moment over. You pushed at his chest to stand upright, and he stepped backwards, removing his hands from your person. 

“Very funny. We both know these are your books. Setting traps for me now, Spencer?” 

You moved around the piles of books again as he flicked the light switch, moving the opposite way around your desks, before meeting you again next to yours. 

“You're usually more observant than this. Is there something wrong today?” 

“What, like Adenovirus or Rhinovirus?” 

“No, like something…” he searched for the right words, pace slowing as he tried not to scare you away by talking with you like this.

“Like something on your mind.” 

You snorted, leaning down to switch on your computer, and also to avoid his eye contact. Unfortunately, academic curiosity had gotten to you in the last few weeks, and you'd read some of his psychological papers. You knew exactly what it was the BAU was apparently so good at, and you didn't want him to know that you'd imagined him balls deep in you hours before. 

“Not friends, Spencer. If there's something I need to talk about, I'll talk to a friend,” you said, standing straight again and turning to him again. You still avoided eye contact, but it didn't matter. His eyes weren't on your face but angled further down, like he'd been checking out your ass as you bent over or something. 

No. No, you weren't going down that train of thought. 

“Or even better, my therapist.” You were planning on the words being a bit more playful, but your voice came out deeper than you expected it, more gravely somehow. 

Your bedroom voice, you were using your stupid fucking bedroom voice on Spencer Reid. 

You cut yourself off again before you said anything else. Before he touched you or didn't touch you, and you got to test your earlier theory about which would be the more demeaning reaction. 

“I have class in ten. Clean up before I get back,” you ordered, and you felt the hairs on the back of your neck stand up when he replied. 

“I don't take direction well, Y/N.” 

No, you didn't think he would. Neither did you though.

For a week, you tiptoed around the man, your words sharp, but your body weak to him. 

By day, you were hurling insults back and forth, messing up his papers and screwing with him via bookshelf again. 

“YOUR…FLY…IS….OPEN.” 

“VERY….MATURE.”

“MADE…YOU…LOOK…THOUGH.”

“BUSY….LOOKING…AT…OTHER….THINGS.”

“LIKE…THE…UNDERGRADS…THROWING…THEMSELVES…AT…YOU…?”

“LIKE…THE…PROFESSOR…I'M APPARENTLY…DATING” 

“Very fucking funny, Spencer,” you sighed at the last message, throwing the books off the shelf and pilling them up on the floor. 

“Don't even for a second entertain the idea of making that gossip a reality.” 

He grinned at you from behind his desk. 

“Okay.”

“Don't even - don't even think about it,” you said, stepping over his desk and poking at his chest as his smile deepened.

“Heard.” 

“I'm serious, Spencer, don't-” 

“You've thought about it.” You froze in shock at his words, as if your blood wasn't sure whether to run cold or burn hot and fast. 

“What?” You spat the words at him, unable to stop them coming out any other way. 

“You've thought about entertaining the gossip. You've thought about it a lot.” 

You needed to deny him, but he was right. By day, you tried to torment him, but by night, he did torment you. A week of wet dreams, of imagining him taking you over every inch of your office, of sleepless rest and failed orgams, and you could not escape. 

“No,” you said with a whisper, shaking your head and trying again even as your voice cracked from the lie and your body's cry for pleasure, for this man. 

“No, I haven’t- I don't-” You took a deep breath, but you knew it was no good, as his hand grabbed yours and flattened it against his chest. 

“Your pupils are dilated, your pulse is heightened, and your legs are practically clamped shut. Your mouth is dry, and I'm not sure if you've noticed yet, Y/N, but you're shaking.” 

“All signs of anger, Spencer, as you're well aware.” 

He let go of your wrist and sat back in his seat, just out of reach of you again. 

“Shame,” he whispered under his breath, nearly low enough that you didn't catch it, as he flipped open his book and continued whatever the fuck it was he even did in this office. 

You ignored it, anger really flooding you now, warring the heat of arousal that was firmly settled in your body for dominance. 

The anger won out. 

You grabbed books from your desk, files, and papers from the side table by the couch and your laptop from your desk and left the room quickly. 

You slammed the door, and you didn't look back, knowing that if you did, you'd see his winning smirk staring right back at you.

You marched yourself right to the staff administration office and put in for a week of leave. Spencer had one more week of work at the university, and then he would go back to being a regular FBI agent. 

Your paths wouldn't cross because you wouldn't let them cross, not when it meant for certain that you would give in.

You spent the week working to distract yourself from work. You finished books for your next semester courses, highlighting the better articles and essays to use, going through each bibliography to find better sources if they weren't good enough. You wrote more of a research paper you didn't have time to think about with so much going on. You corresponded with students, with TAs, with the other professors who wanted to know where you were. 

Okay, that was a lie. You aired the professors, but you did look out for any inboxes from him. Surprisingly, there were none. 

You spent a week throwing yourself head first into your work, and still, each night, you felt his phantom touch on you. No matter how exhausted, your brain still co jured images of his hands grasping your wrists, pushing them above your head and forcing his cock into you, his lips biting against your skin, the fire of his kisses leaving scars where they trailed down. 

You were running on three hours of sleep per night, sure, but at least you were as far as you could possibly get from the man ruining your life. 

You poured yourself a glass of wine the next Sunday, knowing that when you went back to work the next day, he'd be gone.

You wrapped yourself in blankets and put everything else off for the day, ordering food and eating it and not moving as you worked your way through boxes of pizza. 

It was when you finished your first glass and went to pour yourself another that there was a furious pounding at your door. 

“Y/N, I know you're in there, open the door.” His hand sounded again, and you nearly dropped the glass at the sound of Apencer Reid's voice. 

Your body acted alone, immediately following his directions as you damn near tripped over your own feet to open the door for him. 

Throughout all of your arguments, all of the quips you'd thrown at him, every stupid little thing you'd done to get under his skin, you had not once seen Spencer Reid looking this angry. 

His brow was furrowed uncomfortably, as if it were frozen in place. Gone was his perpetual smirk. 

“Spencer, what the fuck a-” 

“Thoughtless. Careless. Do you even know what you've done?” He snapped at you, stepping into your apartment and closing the door behind himself as he immediately walked into your space and began touching things.

“Stop! Fucking stop it, Spencer!” You said grabbing his arm and pulling him around to face you. He brushed you off quickly and worked his way through papers you'd left on your coffee table. 

“No. You stormed out over a week ago, you blocked my number, you did not answer any of my emails-” 

“I didn't get any emails,” you spit back, pushing yourself between him and your things now, bodies so close they were touching. 

“Then you blocked my email, too. You don't even know what I'm looking for or the damage you could have done, do you?” His hands were on you then, not threateningly, as you'd expect, his anger still burning through him if his shaking voice had anything to say for it. 

His hands stroked up your sides and back down again, smoothing away your need to think. 

“My files. My team sent me a file. It was on the coffee table, and you took it with you when you left. The case is ongoing, and I'm flying out tomorrow, and without some of the classified information in that file, we will be at a disadvantage. Our odds of catching our unsub fall from 83% to 47% without all of the pertinent information.” 

Your breath hitched as he leaned in closer. 

“So yes, I'm going to go through your things, and if you're a good girl, you'll root through with me and help me find it.” 

He stepped away then, and you held your tongue. As much as you hated him, he was right. You knew what he did, you knew who he was and to trust him not to lie to you about his chances without this information. 

“The files on the coffee table are research notes, everything I took from the office is in that case over there,” you said pointing at a bag still where you'd dropped it by the door a week earlier. 

He walked to it and rooted through it quickly before finding the file he obviously needed and letting some of the tension out of his shoulders. 

“You're probably glad to see the back of me, right?” He said, laughing bitterly as he turned back around to you. 

“Obviously not as happy as you are,” you spat back, stepping back over to him. 

“If you ever speak to me that way again,” you started, spitting at him in the most threatening voice you could muster. “It won't be a fucking unsub that ruins your life.” 

“And how are you going to manage that, Y/N?” He said, stepping closer to you until he had you backed up against the wall, trapped in by his bigger frame, using it to his advantage to intimidate. 

“How will you manage to ruin my life,” he said, his voice softer as he finished his sentence, but not by much. “When you shake with just every time I get close?” 

“This is not lust,” you growled the words out, but try as you damn might, you were shaking, vibrating even. 

“Then what is it?” 

“Hatred, dislike, loathing, detestation, abhorrence, fuck Spencer, you can pick up a thesaurus yourself and find out.”

“Yeah. Okay. I'll believe your lies for a second.” He walked away, he was walking away but the fire was ringing in your ears and you needed him to stay fucking put so he could take it all. 

“You're a jackass.”

“Original.” 

“You slammed into my life, expecting me to bend to your will and be at the mercy of your needs, your wants. Your office space, your fucking case files, your job-” 

“None of that was my choice.” 

“And it wasn't mine either, but at least I fucking left you alone. I spent the week in this apartment and left you the fuck alone, and you couldn't even allow me the same.”

His focus was back on you again, but you refused to be backed against a wall this time. 

“What did you say?” 

“You will not let me know peace. I have lost my security, my patience, my fucking sanity with each word you have said, my peace of mind, my sleep, my fucking sanity, Spencer.” Your chest was heaving, touching his with each exhale as he too held his place in front of you. He was so close, you'd practically spat the words directly into his mouth. 

“How is that my fault?” He whispered, voice still dripping with disdain even as his hands again wrapped themselves in your hair, and he tugged your head back, baring your neck to him as he leaned down into you. 

“How do you know that you're not doing the same to me?” 

You refused to answer, though, meeting his eyes for one last second before you grabbed his hair in your hands and yanked him down to your mouth. 

It wasn't so much a kiss as a battle for dominance, each trying to torture a surrender from the other with clashing tongues and teeth. 

You made the first move, but he was obviously expecting it, and he didn't even pause before launching his own attack, finally pushing past your strong defence to walk you back to the sofa you'd abandoned earlier. 

His tongue still lashed against yours as you retreated, refusing to give up your upper hand even as you moaned into his touch. The couch hit the back of your knees, buckling, and you silently cursed your lack of sleep for leaving you so unstable right now. 

No, that wasn't true. It was him. He had left you so unstable, moving between happy and playful to angry and wrathful in the space of a week without you, and you'd been denying yourself the ability to even entertain any of this happening. Now that it was, your body was unprepared, totally at his mercy, as he pushed you to your back and pushed up your skirt. 

“You're already so fucking wet,” he groaned slipping two fingers inside you as you moaned around him, no longer capable of thought. This was the moment, this was when he was going to make you submit to him finally. 

Instead, he dropped to his knees and you gasped as his to guess found your sweet cunt and he began sucking to your clit. 

You were on fire, skin scorched from the inside out, spreading in waves from your pussy to the furthest regions of your body. 

With one hand, he spread your thighs further apart and pushed his entire face further into your cunt, tongue pushing inside right by his fingers, nose pushed right up against your clit as he didn't relent. Every movement was another curse falling from your mouth. 

“Shit, Spencer, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,” you whimpered, hips rocking back and forth as you tried to fuck his face, begging for more. 

To your surprise, he didn't keep your hips still but let you keep riding his face, riding his fingers as you chased your first orgasm.  

It came quickly, overwhelming you with the impact, jolting through your body like a lightning bolt as he let your hips shake and crash across his tongue. 

When he finally pulled his face away, it was glistening, and he wasted no time shoving his tongue back in your mouth. His message was clear - he may have let you take whatever pleasure you'd wanted with him, but he was still the one in control. 

You trailed kisses along his cheeks, neck, shoulders as he divested himself of clothing, shirt, belt, pants, ripping at yours to free your body as well, until the two of you were only left with underwear and you'd picked up every last drop of your cum left on his skin.

“On your back, now,” he said, and you complied. You spread your legs, and rubbed at your still wet cunt, jolting as he finally lined himself up with your cunt. 

But he didn't push in yet. Instead he wrapped two arms under your knees and pulled you closer, so his cock rested over the top of your stomach, and leaned down, his face hovering inches over your own, holding himself up with a forearm rested just above your head. 

“You see that?” He said, glancing down. “That is how much I am going to fill you. That is how deep I am going to ease into you. That is how far I am going to go to claim you. You can take it like a good girl, right?” 

“Just shut up and put your cock inside me, Spencer.” 

“You're so fucking pushy for a submissive little slut,” he said, smiling finally. 

“I am not a-” you started to protest, but he slid inside of your hot cunt and you lost the ability to focus. 

“Not a what, Y/N? Speak up,” thrusting shallowly as your cunt grabbed him and held tight. 

“I'm not a- SPENCER!” You screamed his name as he pulled out quickly, thrusting into you again with a speed and strength that had you wrapping your arms and legs around him tightly, fighting for him to stay right there deep inside. 

“Not a sub? Y/N, you're whimpering and drooling right now. You're three seconds away from begging for my cock, why the fuck can you not be honest with yourself?” 

“Fuck…you,” you said between moans as he rutted into you like a beast. He wasn't man anymore, bit monster, and he was claiming you inch by disgustingly perfect inch. 

“Let go. Let me take care of you, let me control you. Come on, baby, you know how good it would feel,” he said, before ducking his head and wrapping his tongue around a nipple. 

You screamed his name again, but you still tried to resist. 

“Come on, Y/N. Show me. Cum on my cock.” 

For a brief moment, you'd thought you'd resisted the demand. But then your brain faded, and your nails cut into his back like daggers as your body followed his commands and you came on his cock for a second time that night. 

“Perfect. One more, you can do one more,” he said, kissing your lips and lifting himself back up so he was sitting on his knees as he again picked up the pace. 

You mumbled his name over and over again as he fucked out all of the frustration in your body. Every thing either of you had said or done melted away in the glow of pleasure, your body buzzing from the feeling of him taking ownership of you. 

“One more, Y/N. One more, you need to cum one more time.”

“I can't, I can't I can't I can't, Spencer I can't I really can't,” you said, voice growing pathetically whiny as the tears sprang to your eyes and you choked back a sob. 

“Yes you can, one more. Together, we can do it together,” he said, groaning as you clenched around him.” 

He claimed your mouth again, his hand wrapping around your throat as he cut off your air supply for a second, then two, then three, as your ears buzzed and you finally slipped over the edge again. 

But this time, as promised, you weren't the only one caught in the pain of pleasure. Spencer collapsed on top of you as his dick spurted inside you, holding you close as he unloaded everything he had into you. 

He sat there, warming his cock as he lazily kissed open mouth kisses into every inch of your shoulders, collar bone and chest. Everywhere he could reach without pulling out of you and leaving you there. 

After weeks of no sleep because of him, it was his soft lips that finally enticed you into the hands of the sandman, his weight a comfort as you closed your eyes. 

When you woke in your bed, clean and clothed, he was gone, and so was every sign that he'd ever been there in the first place. 

🔖 @stillhere197 @understandingsunrise @mindfullycriminal @aliteralsemicolon @r-3dlips @alexafromamazon15 @jasf444 @subunitless @thebloomingeagle @lackingoriginalthoughts @empressgraytea @nox-sprite @alondralolll @allspicestones @chiyozai @i_heart_mgg @2hiigh2cry @tiyuel @jiuseoks @readinglatenights @placidus @dreamsarebig @pisceslovrr @waywardgoddess66 @tampon_racecar @kbaby-024 @luvdella @feyresqueen @a1dyn @pleasantwitchgarden @kolasbombaf @lovehadlovelost @kissesforspence @moonchildooh @bubbleebubz @theoraekenslover @melagem02 @calypso-read @ari-aurelia

(Note: There are multiple broken tags above. Please check your account settings and make sure you can be tagged when signing up for the tag list. I'll remove all dead tags after two chapters of broken tags!)

[mrsmothermaximoff]

Missed me?

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4

Pairing: Stepmommy Wanda x f!reader

Tags: Stepmom x stepdaughter, fluff, daddy issues, kissing, drinking, mentions of upcoming smut

Summary: Y/N's back from college and finds out her stepmother may have missed her just as much as she did

Dinner ended after a painfully long 2 hours and you helped Wanda finish up the dishes while you two caught up. "So, did you meet anyone special over there?" The words tasted bitter in her mouth. "No, not really. Just a bunch of people who wasted my time." Wanda paused briefly after putting a plate in the sink, "Who wasted your time?" The question felt more than casual, like she demanded an answer. "Just people I thought respected me, turns out they all thought I was a joke." She frowned at you, "I don't think you're a joke, my Y/N." That nickname always left your face burning. "Thank you Wanda, I missed you." She pulled you in for an unexpected hug, one that was so rudely interrupted by your father coming to grab his 9th glass of wine.

After the dishes were done your father left upstairs to do who-knows what, and you went to your room to watch a movie with Wanda. The two of you had established a tradition of late-night movie watching about a year ago. Every Thursday Wanda comes to lay with you on your bed and you watch some cheesy laughable movie while you try to hide your giggles from your father. It was always completely innocent, until today that is.

The movie started and you both had already started your fits of laughter before you even grabbed the popcorn. Wanda was always very hospitable, so she loved setting up a series of snacks for the two of you. The movies you always watched were full of cheesy jokes and dumb humor, but this time Wanda wanted to watch something a little but more serious, a romance.

The main characters had already kissed 9 different people only 10 minutes into the movie. "I don't understand how people do it." You commented, upset by the actions of the character. "Do what?" Wanda replied. "Make-out with a bunch of random people all the time just for fun. I don't understand it. Why can't people just love one person forever? And only that person?" She began rubbing your arm softly at that last part. Your breath got caught in your throat at the sudden action. "Mhm" She agreed quietly. "M-maybe they're just lonely." You said trying to regain your thoughts. She stopped at your words, "Do you kiss a lot of people when you're lonely?" Her voice sounded softer, sadder, something you almost never hear from her. "No, but I might try it." You joked with a sad laugh, "I felt so lonely at school, for so long, I don't want to feel lonely anymore." She got quiet, when you looked up at her she was looking at you, focused. Her left hand gently caressed your head, while her right rubbed circles on your stomach. She opened her mouth, and then closed it. She did it again, and again, you anxiously waited for what she was trying to say. What could she have to say that would take this much effort? "Let me be the one you love forever, my Y/N," She whispered so boldly. "the one you always kiss, the one who kills your lonely, the one who makes you feel special every time you think you aren't." She paused, "I love you."

Your eyes filled with tears, and she pulled you into her to steal them with her lips. She softly kissed every tear that fell while she silently hoped you felt comforted by it. When they stopped falling she pulled away. "Wanda, I-" Her expression grew disappointed and saddened. "It's okay Y/N, I understand this is an interesting situation, you don't have to-" You practically threw yourself onto her smashing your lips together again. You heard her sniffle and you quickly pulled away. "Wanda?" She smiled and sniffled back more cries, "You're everything to me Y/N, I've loved you for so long and now you're finally mine." You smiled smugly back at her, "Well, there's still one thing you haven't claimed yet." She looked at you confused, "What?" You signaled for her to get closer, "my virginity."

[fluffylino]

soft!hyunjin

you never liked arguments

-very fluffy, pure fluffiness

water ran down your body. you didn't like this feeling that you felt. nothing made sense anymore. your mind was a mess.

arguments.

you despised it so much because of how your parents were.

unecessary. things could be cleared quietly without shouting and getting angry with eachother. it reminded you of your father. his harsh words. the shouting. the swearing. the silent treatment.

although what hyunjin did was minor. he would never curse at you or call you names regardless of whether he was annoyed.

what happened today was a mistake. it had escalated to the point that hyunjin was ignoring you. at this point you couldn't even blame him. maybe you were being emotional. but it did bring back bad memories of arguments.

you hadn't even realised your breath had got stuck in your throat. tears blurred your vision. your head felt light as the water became hotter. steam filling up the bathroom.

"baby!" hyunjin yelled, kicking the door open. you hadn't even heard him. his hand tugged you out, before you could even comprehend anything.

"thank god you left the door unlocked. i was searching for you"

he pulled you flush against him. you couldn't hold your tears in anymore.

"I don't like this, i hate it" you sobbed out, shaking against hyunjin's body that was embracing you.

"i'm sorry, my angel...i'm so sorry my sweetheart" you could feel the pain in his voice. you couldn't help it. everything was triggering and you were unable to control your emotions.

"i don't want to fight. i can't...it hurts"

without caring, he pulled you out not bothering if you were naked. he sat you down on the counter near the sink. your legs dangled down, and he wasted no time to hug you. not bothering that his clothes were getting wet.

"its okay you're okay we're okay" hyunjin reassured, his arms wrapped around you. his fingers stroking your back.

"breathe baby..i'm here" he whispered, pulling his head back to wipe your tears.

"we're never arguing again" you shivered, suddenly hit with a cold draft. you wrapped your legs around his hips.

"im cold hyunnie" you muttered, voice cracking while pushing yourself against his body. he was warm and his soft shirt felt nice against your bare skin.

"lets shower together, hm" he suggested, hands steadily holding you. he rubbed your bare back soothingly. you couldn't bring myself to nod, instead opting to try and look at him.

his eyes were teary and his eyebrows furrowed with worry.

"my pretty baby, don't cry please. i'm sorry" he kissed your forehead.

"i'm so stupid. please forgive me." hyunjin softly pecked your nose.

a small gesture that made your heart hurt with how genuinely heart felt he was being. carefully he carried you, making you stand under the shower. it was perfect. you watched as he took his soaking wet shirt off and tugged his pants and everything else off. hurriedly stepping into the shower. to be as close to you as possible. his body pressed against yours in the misr intimate lovely way possible.

"my gorgeous darling" you cried harder when he cupped your face to place a chaste kiss on your lips.

"i'm sorry...i'm sorry for not talking to you. it was childish and dramatic of me to do that"

"i'm s-sorry too" you mumbled. maybe you were being a teeny weeny bit emotional.

"i'm the one whose sorry baby...you did nothing wrong"

another kiss to your face. the water was hot against your skin but his body provided you with a warmth that reached your heart.

"I love you so much, my love...please never forget that"

[hannieehaee]

jeonghan being a menace to his gf, pls pls pls I'm on my knees 🛐🛐🛐

18+ / mdi

content: softdom!jeonghan, established relationship, sub reader, jeonghan's a little shit basically, smut, fingering, edging, afab reader, penetrative sex, etc.

wc: 1346

a/n: thank u sm for requesting this! this is my favorite subject

masterlist

"h-hannie ... please ..."

"shh, angel. it's okay"

"no, please ... please!"

"i said quiet, baby. dont make me repeat myself," he tsk'd at you, continuing the slow movements of his fingers against your clit.

it had now been over an hour since your boyfriend had decided to make your life hell. for someone who got called an angel by the masses, he could be very mean. specially to you.

you had been completely unsuspecting, simply having woken up next to your boyfriend a bit over an hour ago. as soon as you'd woken up, you had felt a mass against you, which you quickly deduced to be your boyfriend pressed up against you. you couldn't help yourself. you knew he'd punish you for it, but you were half-asleep and you weren't thinking right, so you began to grind your ass against him. it was a not really innocent act. you hadn't meant much by it other than to further feel him against you. but jeonghan didn't take it that way.

jeonghan had woken up, the heat of your almost bare lower half grinding against him. in the morning of all times, when he felt the most sensitive. he had felt like you were teasing him, which was strictly not allowed. he was the only one with that privilege in the relationship. you had both acknowledged it to be unfair, but neither of you minded, enjoying what came attached to your dynamic.

he gave you a few minutes to have your fun, drinking in your mewls of pleasure as you felt him harden even more against you. but soon enough he had had his fill, now wanting more. with all his strength, he wrapped his arms around you, halting your movements as he crept closer to your ear, breathing against it before speaking up.

"gonna be bad today, baby? didn't even try to be good at all, huh?," that was when he trapped you, twisting you to his liking and making you face him as he snuck his fingers down, down, oh, right there.

you immediately whined at his actions. he knew exactly how to move and how much pressure to apply to your most sensitive areas. he began by drawing soft circles on your clit, making you hold onto his arm as you begged him to touch you properly.

"i'm touching you properly. are you saying i don't know how to touch you, angel? should i stop?"

"no!," you'd cried. you'd take whatever he gave you, no matter if it was so little.

that's how you ended up in your current predicament. on hour later, in the same spot, with no proper pleasure to show for your worn out state. he had been toying with your sensitive bud for a whole hour, occasionally allowing his fingers inside you before pulling them out right before you reached your end. he took you all the way to the gates of heaven just to pull you back under before you could go all the way up. he was cruel, like that. his other hand occupied itself on your tits, softly rubbing at your nipples as you threw your head back. there was nothing you wanted mote than for him to use his fingers to their full potential; pulling at your nipples with one hand while the other scissored in and out of you. but this was jeonghan you were talking about. he needed to make a torturous show out of it.

"hannie ... please. i'm begging you! wa-want -oh!"

he had finally decided to take some mercy on you, moving his fingers at a speed he hadn't reached since he first started touching you. you wanted to whine and beg for more, but you knew it was dangerous territory. one wrong move and jeonghan would take it all away.

he must have read your mind, as the next thing he said pertained to your sudden silence (sans a few muffled mewls), "what? not gonna make noise for me, angel? nothing for me? what do i get out of playing with this pretty pussy if i can't even hear my angel cry for me?," he was about to stop, just when you went on a limb and grabbed onto his wrist, using all your strength from preventing his fingers from leaving you.

"oh? my baby's gonna be bad? okay, angel. i'll allow it. already misbehaved so much today anyway. you must want it really bad, huh?"

you nodded frantically as his face neared yours, breath against your mouth as he looked down to you.

"god. my gorgeous angel. you're so beautiful. did you know? huh? have any idea what a pretty thing you are?"

he knew his words did nothing but drive you closer to the edge, only making your cries for him louder as you were at the brink of it.

"that's it, angel. cum for me. let me see that pretty face you make- ah! that's the one. so pretty," he mockingly gasped at your orgasmic expression, bringing up his hand from playing with your tit to wipe at a lone tear escaping your eye.

he gave you a few seconds to catch your breath before he began to crawl over you, yanking off your soaked panties as he pulled his own sweats just below his ass. he grabbed his cock, rubbing it a bit before grabbing at the end of it and positioning just against your cunt. then he got even meaner.

with his angry tip, he rubbed his cock against the your swollen clit, drawing light circles on it as you gasped and writhed at the feeling. the filthiness of the act made your eyes roll back, loving the feeling of his hard length rubbing against your abused clit. you had been sensitive for over an hour, only gaining even more sensitivity after the intensely awaited orgasm he had just given you. the feeling of his cock giving you such light stimulation made you throw your head back.

"oh, angel. you're so sensitive for me, aren't you? my beautiful angel. just a simple touch and you're already in the clouds, huh, angel? love how responsive you are."

he must've gotten frustrated a few moments later, deciding to plunge in with no warning. the sudden intrusion made you gasp, digging your hands on his back as he began to fuck you at a fast pace, leaving behind the softness of his previous touches.

"gonna make you cum, okay angel? need you to strangle my dick with that pretty cunt, yeah? gonna fill you up."

he knew there was nothing you loved more than when he came inside you. he was just as addicted to the feeling, but would sometimes go as far as depriving you of it just to tease you. he always put his ability to make you beg for him over his own pleasure. he thrived off of your cries for him.

"hannie! please! come in me. need y-you to! please .."

"it doesn't seem like i'll have an option either way, angel. you're squeezing me too tight. can't even m-move anymore," he panted against you, increasing his pace by the second. he was on the verge, as were you.

only a few moments later and he was filling you up, with your own orgasm following close. once you had caught your breaths, jeonghan finally lowered his face down to yours, kissing softly into your mouth. except it never stopped just there. jeonghan knew how obsessed with kissing him you were, so he always had to pull at all stops. there was nothing he loved more than your cries for him, after all.

he sensually licked into your mouth, instructing you to stick out your tongue for him. his tongue took yours, licking and sucking at it in such a nasty way that had your eyes rolling back. he pulled away soon after, chuckling against your mouth at the way your lips followed after his.

"gotta stop rewarding you for being bad. i'm creating a brat," he knew it wasn't true, but he simply just lived to tease you.

[pin-k-ink]

pent up // hoshina soshiro

tw ⇢ semi public sex, biting, marking, nipple play, dirty talk, established relationship, unprotected sex, begging, fingering, mention of male masturbation

wc ⇢ 1.2k

a/n: not satisfied with this one either…and i keep forgetting that this guy has a kansai dialect

The lab was cloaked in near total darkness, save for the bluish glow of the monitors humming in standby mode. You suppressed a yawn as you entered the data from today's latest round of kaiju cell analyses, the rhythmic clacking of keys filling the stillness.

At least these late night sessions afforded you some peace and privacy to focus without distractions. With the spike in kaiju activity lately, you'd been logging far too many long hours bent over these microscopes and petri dishes--

"Well, well...what do we have here?"

You jolted ramrod straight at the teasing baritone that seemed to resonate directly against the back of your neck. Before you could whirl around, a pair of corded, muscular arms snaked around your midsection from behind, anchoring you against a powerful, chiseled chest as hot lips ghosted over the racing pulse at your throat.

"Working late again without me, baby?" Soshiro growled in a voice dripping with playful accusation. "You know how I hate being left out like this..."

Your breath hitched at the delicious vibrations thrumming against your nape with each rasping word. He plastered himself fully along your backside - every rigid, defined plane molding against your softer curves so deliciously you nearly whimpered. The rigid outline of his rapidly swelling cock nudged insistently against your ass, leaving no doubt as to his state of riled desire.

"S-Soshiro!" you exhaled shakily. "I thought you were still out in the field--"

"Mmmm, got done sooner than expected," he rumbled in smug contentment, nuzzling deeper into your hairline to pepper kisses there. "Lucky me too, otherwise I might've missed the chance to catch my gorgeous girlfriend working late all alone...again..."

He punctuated the accusation by rolling his hips forward in a slithery, teasing grind that sent liquid fire pooling between your thighs instantly. You gasped at the blatant lust riding his every motion, hands flying up to grip his corded forearms reflexively as need swamped through your veins.

"Fuck, I've been so goddamn worked up without you around," Soshiro groaned against the slick skin beneath your jaw, fangs grazing there in stinging little nips. "Jerking off twice a day just thinking about burying myself in this perfect body until you're a goddamn mess..."

He reached up to shove your sweater and shirt aside with impatient motions, dragging the soft cup of your bra down to bare one breast to the open air. You shuddered violently as cool oxygen seared your inflamed skin - nipple tightening into a rigid point that Soshiro wasted no time lavishing with rough swipes of his tongue.

"Nngh, 'Shiro! We c-can't..." you tried in a broken whimper, even as your spine arched wantonly into the scorching heat of his mouth. "Not here, someone could--"

"So what?" he growled against your saliva-slick flesh, sucking a lurid mark into the tender swell hungrily. "Let them finally see how crazy you make me after being denied for weeks...hear how pretty you sound when I fuck you like my life depends on it..."

His hand found the waistband of your slacks in the same breath, dipping past the lacy barrier of your panties to swipe his knuckles over your dripping entrance with devastating bluntness. An inarticulate noise punched itself from your throat in stunned rapture at the glide of his calloused fingers seeking out your swollen clit.

"God, you're so fucking soaked already," Soshiro snarled in husky approval. "Told you how much I've been thinking about devouring this perfect little pussy of yours, didn't I?"

You cried out shamelessly, nails scoring down his forearms as he speared two thick digits past your fluttering folds to the last knuckle. His thumb found your aching clit, thrumming tight little circles that shattered your vision in white nova bursts.

"So good for me, opening up so beautifully," he praised roughly against the corner of your slack mouth, teeth scoring your earlobe in a stinging burn. "Like your greedy little cunt was made to milk me dry again and again..."

Distantly, you registered the sounds of him shucking his pants off behind you with frantic motions, the heavy line of fat cock finally springing free. You rolled your hips in mindless desperation, chasing the delicious friction of his thrusting fingers urgently.

"Yes, yesss, Soshiro!" you babbled around a helpless stream of sobs and moans. "Please, I need...need you to..."

"Shhh, baby...I've got you," he growled with dark reassurance in your ear, swollen cockhead finding your entrance with precision guidance.

You keened at the thick stretch and glorious impalement as he hilted himself to the root in one smooth, fluid roll of his hips. Behind you, Soshiro released a ragged sound of bliss, hot breath fanning over your nape as he savored the velvet heat enveloping his aching cock at last.

"Fuuuuck...baby, you feel so goddamn tight, squeezing me so fucking perfectly..."

You could only whimper and rut back against his bulk needfully in response - utterly overwhelmed by the sheer size and weight of him buried so profoundly. The slick noises of his withdrawal teased obscene symphonies in the quiet lab, only for his girthy thrust home to pummel the breath from your lungs anew in rapture.

Over and over, he ground into your convulsing walls at a ruthless, relentless cadence - every snap of his lean hips punctuated by rough groans and fevered praises filtering against your sweat-slick skin. The unyielding suction of his chest to your back anchored you in sublime torment, his hands possessively palming and groping every lush curve as he staked his dominion.

"Just like that, sweetheart," Soshiro growled in your ear as his pounding rhythm punched guttural noises from the depths of your being. "Hold those gorgeous tits for me while I ruin that tight cunt, fuck...taking me so fucking deep, squeezing so tight..."

His sharp canines found the fevered juncture of your neck and shoulder in an implacable bite, the fiery sting only amplifying the maddening friction splitting you apart from root to core. In the same breath, he latched one calloused hand around your throat - not squeezing, just a heavy grounding vice as he pistoned deeper.

You bucked back onto him, relishing the addictive drag of his veiny cock along your rippling walls. Every gasping moan and keen shattered against the sterile air surrounding you both, as if to defy the pristine silence entirely in favor of hedonistic ruin at last.

Soshiro railed into you with gradually increasing savagery, fingers bruising at your hip and throat as his climax mounted insurmountably. Something molten and feverish kindled to rapturous life behind your fluttering lids. Finally...

"Mine..." he snarled through gritted teeth, teeth scoring your nape and back arching as release crested. "Say it, [Y/N]...you're fucking mine, only ever fucking mine..."

"Yours!" you howled unintelligibly, every nerve ending splintering into infinite fragments of ecstasy at his brutal claiming. "Always yours, Soshiro, oh fuck...!"

Your shared shouts splintered to hoarse shrieks of blissful rapture as his shaft pounded home in one final, bestial thrust. Thick, creamy cum flooded your convulsing pussy torridly as Soshiro threw back his head and roared your name - muscles corded in stark relief while his climax milked out in pulse after pulse of abandon.

Your juices gushed freely around his iron length, spasming through soaring peaks and crashing falls of blinding intensity until exhaustion finally bled into a twilight half-consciousness. Dimly, you felt his slick, softening cock withdrawing, only to be gathered up and cradled in strong arms as you drifted on the ebbing tide of aftershocks.

[mattyriddlesbitch]

Can I get some orgasm denial w Enzo please? Or even just Enzo being a munch :)

Enzo is a huge much and I stand by that. Thank you so much for requesting him. <3

Listen

Lorenzo Berkshire x F!Reader

Warnings: Oral(Female receiving) fingering, edging, orgasm denial, cussing.

18+ Minors DNI!

Enzo's favorite place in the world is between your thighs. Having a bad day? Being in between your thighs would fix it. Got into a dumb argument with his friends and needs to cool down? Your thighs make good earmuffs. Having a good day and wants to end it on a high note? Your legs spread for him is the best way.

Today was a bad day. Horrid. He was running late in the morning, Mattheo was in a pissed off mood and taking it out on his friends, he completely forgot about an assignment. So he came straight to your dorm once he knew you'd be there.

Now, here you were, panties thrown somewhere in your room with your skirt bunched up as you sat on your desk chair, Enzo kneeling between your thighs. Your hands were in his hair and he was just licking and sucking at your poor sweet cunt like he hadn't eaten in years.

“Enzo.” You whined his name. The sight was so hot.

“Don't you dare fucking cum.” He said harshly. He was definitely more aggressive than usual. Not that you were complaining.

“Please, I'm so close.” You pleaded, throwing your head back.

“No. If you cum, I won't touch you for a week.” He said and you knew he wouldn't follow through with it, but you still tried to obey.

You cried out and focused on trying not to cum, but it was so hard with the way he was sucking at your clit. Despite his harsh tone and how aggressively he was eating you out, his hands were rubbing soothingly on your thighs and hips.

“Shit, I'm gonna cum, Enzo, please.” You said, legs shaking around his head as you moaned.

He pulled back slightly. “No, I told you not to. Can't you be a good girl?”

You whined from the loss of his mouth and and looked back at him. “I can be a good girl. Please.” You begged, your hips moving subconsciously to try to find some friction.

“You gotta listen then, sunshine.” He said sweetly.

“I can. I can listen.” You nodded.

“You better. Or I have to punish you. Do you want that?” He asked, moving his hand up to gently massage your breasts.

“No, I don't want that.” You pouted, whimpering slightly from his touch.

“Good, I don't wanna punish you either, angel. Just relax and look pretty for me, yeah?” He said and connected his mouth with your pussy again.

You moaned, watching him as he licked at your pussy again. He pushed two fingers in you and looked up at you. He thought you were the hottest thing in the world. You looked perfect as you moaned and cried out his name as he ate you out.

“Enzo, please, please, please.” You begged as you threw your head back, legs trying to close on his head from how close you were again.

“No, hold it.” He was back to his cold tone, lapping at your pussy as his fingers were hitting inside you perfectly. He used his free hand to wrap around one thigh to keep your legs spread for him.

“I can't, please.” You cried out, legs starting to shake.

“No.” He gave your thigh a harsh slap and it made you jolt, yelping from the pain. “Be good.” He rubbed over the slap sweetly in contrast as he pulled back again. You tried using the moment to catch your breath and say something again, but he was back on you again after just a moment, waiting for the orgasm to dwindle down before trying to build it right back up.

“Fuck, Enzo. So good.” You moaned above him, looking back down at him.

He was watching you again, wanting to see every small reaction to his touch. He felt so fucking good, the way his tongue was playing with your clit and the way his fingers were thrusting in and out of you. Your orgasm was building quickly again. 

“Enzo, please.”

“Not yet.” He said, not letting up at all.

Your eyes rolled back as your head fell back against the chair. Desperate, broken moans escaped your lips as you held tightly to his hair. It was all you could do to obey. You desperately needed to cum, you were right on that edge.

“Please.” You sobbed. “I can't. I need-Enzo, please.” 

“You're so greedy. Cum then. Wanna see you cum on my face.” He said before sucking on your clit.

You came hard, trembling, crying, screaming his name. It was so fucking hot to Enzo. He helped you ride out your orgasm, soothing you with his free hand.

You were trying to catch your breath as your body went limp in the chair. He gently removed his finger as he soothed you and praised you.

[golden1u5t]

talk to me | s.r x fem!reader

ꨄ requested: anonymous

ꨄ genre: smut

ꨄ summary: making spencer talk to you while you jerk him off.

it's almost laughable at how easily you can turn his brain off, how easy you can make the boy that never stops talking forget how to form a coherent sentence. it didn't take much to get him all flustered like that, it could start off as something as simple as a glance in his direction or whispering something like "you look so handsome today, baby" in his ear. 

you've never dated a guy that got worked up as fast as spencer did but you definitely didn't mind, you loved how sensitive he was and you used that to your advantage as much as you could.

"please, i can't- mmph- i can't take anymore!" spencer cried out, his hands grasping at the sheets so hard his knuckles were going white and his back arching from the bed just slightly. tears streamed down his pink cheeks as a copious amount of precum spilled down his shaft. he wanted to look at you, see your hand wrapped around his cock, but he couldn't keep his eyes open long enough to do so.

he had already came twice beforehand and you could hear it with how wet and loud it sounded each time you pumped your fist on his cock, the sound alone was enough to send him into another orgasm. 

"what did i say, spencer? keep talking or ill stop." you tilted your head and slowed your hand on his cock, earning yourself a pathetic whine from him. you gave him a moment to answer you before you pulled your hand away completely.

"no, please!" he let out a broken moan and opened his eyes, he reached for your hand to try and bring it back to his cock. that's all he cared about in that moment, getting you to touch him again. you raised your eyebrows at him and he quickly started to splutter out random facts again, not taking a breath between any of his words.

despite having said he couldn't take any more just moments earlier, the second you wrapped your hand around his cock again his hips were flexing up into your grasp. you tossed your leg over his and situated yourself on his thighs, leaning over his body just slightly.

spencer ended up on the subject of what happens to the brain during an orgasm, probably because he was close to having one himself and it was the only thing on his mind. you weren't really interested in what he was saying, you just wanted to hear him struggle to get his words out while you touched him. you started to move your hand faster and swipe your thumb over the sensitive tip, his hips started to jut up and moans became more frequent than words.

"spence-" you didn't even get the chance to give your warning since he interrupted you with a particularly loud moan and his cum spilling down your hand. he had thought that since you picked up the pace you were going to let him cum but he realized that definitely wasn't the case when he peeled his eyes open and saw you glaring at him.

"i'm sorry, i thought- m'sorry."