#it got waived or something

[notesof-mh]

POV: a seal approaches you (and somehow becomes a phone?)

[this-doesnt-endd]

I think its fucking ridiculous that the college IN THE CITY I LIVE IN THAT HAS DIRECT CONNECTION TO THE COMMUNITY COLLEGE I WENT TO won't consider any of my degree classes as transferable credits they're all considered electives like as if the same teachers didnt teach at both schools and the course descriptions aren't nearly identical like thats so fucked up anyways university be damned you will be seeing me with printed transcript printed course descriptions and printed syllabus i will try and appeal anything and everything i possibly can

[nomaishuttle]

i didnt get my ham or my hotdogs. god damn it

[pigfromchino]

for the love of god y'all apply for financial assistance with your doctor's office. just learned i saved $30.6k in 2023 after i got approved this passed february

[atlabeth]

take my breath away

pairing: spencer reid x reader

summary: you help spencer train for his fitness exam. he kind of just wants to kiss you.

a/n: some fluff (and something short) after i broke my own heart (and my brain) in my last hotch fic! i’m truly in my criminal minds era. enjoy

wc: 1.3k

warning(s): reader is a runner so im sorry to my unathletic friends. but this is all fluff

“Spence,” you said, unable to bite back your smile, “how are you this bad at running?” 

“I’m—” he held up a finger as he caught his breath and shook his head. “I’m not bad at running. My form… is perfect.” 

“We barely made it a mile in,” you said, and you chuckled as he keeled over, his hands on his knees. “It can’t be that perfect.” 

“It is,” he insisted, on the edge of wheezing. “I’m just unathletic.” 

“You never did sports as a kid?” 

“I graduated high school at twelve,” Spencer breathed. “I was too busy studying. Reading. Doing anything other than sports.” He looked at you and shook his head. “And I’m not crazy like you.” 

Your smile only grew. “You should put your hands over your head. It helps get more air in.” 

“That’s actually a rumor.” He shook his head again. “When you raise your arms, muscles that contribute… to the bucket handle movement of your ribs—” He heaved a sigh, his brows furrowing, and again, you held back a smile. You were sure this was one of his only weaknesses. “—they’re not able to function properly.” 

“Alright, genius,” you said, mockingly but with love. “Recover however you like. You clearly need it.” 

Spencer pouted as he straightened up, his whole face contorted in discomfort. When your boyfriend asked you to help him train for his upcoming fitness test, you didn’t think much of it—you got a full ride through college because of track, and you keep healthy with morning runs, so you were happy to help. 

You’d thought about straight up offering a myriad of times—mostly after bearing witness to his attempts at running in the field. One time, the two of you were paired up to do some interviews, and it ended in a chase. By the time Spencer caught up, nearly dying on the sidewalk, you already had the unsub subdued and cuffed. 

(It took him a while to live that down with Morgan.)

Spencer was gifted at other things, sure—not just everyone is a classified genius with an eidetic memory, and he’s the youngest recruit in history—and you loved him more than anything. But you couldn’t not make fun of him, just a little bit. 

His face was still red, his glasses fogging up a bit from the humidity, and his hair was a mess, so you moved closer in order to brush the stray strands out of his face. 

“Running isn’t my thing,” he said. “Well— fitness isn’t my thing. I’ve got everything else covered.” 

“Oh yeah?” You started smoothing back the strands of his hair, and you offered a crooked smile. “Then why are we out here trying to improve your mile time?” 

“Because it would be nice if Gideon doesn’t have to get all my fitness stuff waived again, and if I want that, I need the help.” His eyes didn’t leave yours, and once you finished, your hands lingered on his cheeks. You nudged his glasses back up to their spot. “And I think I’d run a marathon and die trying if it meant I got to spend more time with you.” 

Your eyebrows rose. “If you want to run a marathon, I could probably get you there. It would take a lot of time together, though.” 

“Please, no,” Spencer breathed. “Just the time together part.” 

You grinned, and you patted him on the cheek before you pulled away. “Running is good for the soul. Why do you think I’m so happy all the time?” 

“Well, this morning you said you were happy because of me,” he said. “Yesterday, it was because we had our first case-free weekend in two months. The other day—” 

“That coffee I had?” you interrupted. 

He nodded. “How’d you know?” 

“Because you made it for me,” you said, “and I love it when you do that.” 

Spencer shrugged. “You do it all the time for me. It’s only fair.” 

“But that’s proof,” you said. “Running does make you happy.” 

“Running does release endorphins, but anyone who likes it is crazy,” he repeated. 

“That doesn’t sound scientifically backed.” 

“The way I feel right now beats science,” Spencer huffed. “And you’re not happy all the time. You frowned 23 times while writing up your last report.” 

You raised your eyebrows. “You were watching me? And counting?” 

He shrugged. “You’re nice to watch.” 

“Very smooth, Dr. Reid,” you said cloyingly. “But flattery won’t get you out of this.” 

“I’m not trying to get out of anything!” he defended. You stared at him, and he held up his hands. “Okay— only halfway. But you are nice to watch. That’s why I’m still here.”

“If you’re watching me while we run, that might be why you’re doing so badly,” you said, amused. 

“No—I think it’s the only thing keeping me going.”

“You don’t really look like you’re still going,” you said wryly. “You should be good at this. You’ve got long legs.” 

Spencer shook his head as he screwed his eyes shut. He let out one last breathy sigh, and you hoped he’d finally recovered. “Also largely a rumor. It’s more about leg strength compared to bodyweight—long legs help with lengthy strides, but you need to generate enough torque to move faster than with shorter legs.” 

You smiled. “You’ve still got facts? Even while you’re dying?” 

“Mostly because Elle’s said it before too. She says I look like a baby giraffe learning how to walk when I run.” Spencer shook his head again. “I think the only thing my height is good for is getting things off of shelves.” 

For once, you tried to reign in your joking. “Is there anything I can do to help? I don’t want this whole thing to be miserable for you. Running should be fun.” 

“We can stop doing this?” he suggested. “I can let go of what’s left of my pride, get all my fitness stuff waived again, and go back to figuring out cases in an air conditioned conference room?” 

You smiled, and you moved closer. “How about this?” 

Spencer opened his mouth to say something, but you pulled him in for a kiss by the front of his shirt, effectively cutting him off. He hesitated for less than a split second, but his hands fell to your waist as he brought you in closer. 

When you let go and moved away, he still had them there, and he was smiling like an idiot. 

“Does that help?” you asked innocently, tilting your head. 

“Yeah,” Spencer said, nodding rapidly. “Uh— yeah. I actually think I could go for another mile now.” 

You couldn’t help but laugh as you ruffled his hair, messing up your earlier work. “I’d love to test that, pretty boy, but I don’t think you can make it another mile.” 

Spencer shook his head. “If you keep kissing me like that, I think I can make it through that marathon you mentioned.”  

“Sure I don’t take your breath away too badly?” you teased. 

“I have some facts for that, but I don’t think they apply.” His lips curved up, and the redness from exertion mixed with his steadily rising blush. “Because you, uh— you did take my breath away the first time I saw you.” 

“I should start calling you loverboy with material like that,” you mused. “Morgan’s annoyed that I took pretty boy from him.” 

Spencer grimaced. “Just thinking of Morgan seeing me like this makes me want to get back at it. I can’t deal with any more of his teasing.” 

“But my teasing’s okay?” 

He frowned. “Of course. It— it’s kind of why I fell for you.” 

“Ah,” you nodded. “That’s why you’re still at this. You don’t like things being handed to you.” 

His cheeks darkened again, and you laughed as you leaned in to peck him on the lips one more time. 

“Alright, loverboy,” you said. “Ready to get back at it?” 

“No,” he said affirmatively. “But I don’t really have a choice, do I?” 

“Not if you want to pass,” you said wryly, and you gestured back at the trail with your head. “But you know what they say—one step at a time.” 

Spencer grumbled, and he shook his arms out again. “Fine. As long as those steps are with you.” 

You smiled. “I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.” 

[reiderwriter]

hii I absolutely love your writing!! I was wondering if you could write a one shot with gun kink? maybe not really something *aggressive* but just gun kink in the plot !! and please smut with no angst, also maybe aftercare in the end? it's totally okay if you're not comfortable. im loving your kinktober one shots! have a good day :)

A/N: This being one of like... three gun kink requests I've received, we are all not seeing the pearly gates lmao. If you enjoy reading this, even 50% of how much I enjoyed writing it, then I'm happy 😚

Warnings: Undercover FBI Agent reader, gun kink, interrogation room sex, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, creampie, some BDSM themes, Spencer has to 'rough up' the reader etc.

Masterlist

Being rough-housed by a group of FBI agents and pushed against a wall before being handcuffed was never your idea of a fun Tuesday night. It wasn't exactly high on the list for any night of the week, really, but here you were. 

“Caitlyn Grant? You're under arrest for being an accessory to a felony and evading law enforcement, whatever you say…” You drowned out the rest of the statement. It was nothing you didn't have memorized. 

“You're not the usual drug crew, and you don't look sturdy enough to be on most of the other teams either. What part of the Bureau are you in?” You asked the lanky man currently pinning you to the wall as he made sure your handcuffs were aptly tight. 

“You have the right to an attorney, if you can't afford one-” 

“I waive my rights. It's not human trafficking. You wouldn't be working this case if you were human trafficking.” 

The man just stared at you in vague disapproval as you grinned back at him. His closeness meant you could see every detail of his face up close, the five o'clock shadow, the dark circles from lack of sleep. On most of the agents you'd encountered, it had the effect of making them look older, a little haggard, and depressed. On this man, it was honestly very hot. 

He started your pat down by spreading your legs, though honestly, if he'd asked nicely enough, you'd have done just that for him. You near enough told him just that as he reached the two pockets on the ass of your jeans. 

“Watch it, Agent, my bite is worse than my bark.” 

“Turn around.” 

You pouted at his solid resolve, wondering what it would take to get the man to crack a smile or even a frown. Something that wasn't just disinterest slapped on a face and called a day. 

You did as he asked, making sure your body pressed nicely up against his the entire way until your shoulders were resting on the wall and he was feeling along your waist. 

“Come on, what kind of weapon are you going to find there?”

“Standard protocol, please let me do my job.”

“Standard protocol is calling one of your female agents over here to maintain the boundary, Agent. This feels more like you're just trying to cop a feel.” 

Those words finally got a reaction. The subtle clench of the jaw as his hands tightened slightly on your waist had you suddenly regretting your decision to be put in handcuffs. Your hands should've been free to tuck the stray lock of hair that had fallen in his eyes behind his ear, free so your fingernails could trace a path down his face and neck and chest. 

His gaze landed on the simple silver chain you wore around your list and he delicately pulled it out of your shirt, careful not to touch you (and avoiding you even as you arched your back into him). 

With a quick tug, he pulled the necklace clean off your neck, not pausing to bother with the clasp at all. 

“Clever boy. I'll see you in the interrogation room, shall I?” He said nothing as the female agents you'd mentioned earlier stationed themselves on either side of you as you walked away. You didn't break eye contact until the doors to the police van closed behind you. 

Six months undercover on a case, and this was the first time you'd stepped foot in a police precinct since you'd ditched your real name and life. 

The interrogation rooms hadn't changed in that time, at least, still grey and depressing. Time felt void as you waited for company, and thankfully, you weren't waiting long.

“Agent Y/N, sorry about the arrest, we wanted to make it look as real as possible while pulling you out.” The woman who greeted you obviously held the authority, and while you wanted to respect that, the sight of the man trailing behind her actually caught her full attention. 

“Pleasure to meet you….?” You let the question hang open for both of them but kept your gaze fully focused on the man, who stood himself next to the door, keeping surprisingly quiet. 

“I'm Unit Chief Emily Prentiss, this is Doctor Spencer Reid, we're from the-” 

“Behavioural Analysis Unit, of course. I was close, you know, earlier. A face like yours wouldn't last five minutes in cartel land. I almost guessed cyber, but you looked a bit too bookish. Doctor Reid, hmm.” 

“This interview is taking place with Agent Prentiss. Please direct all your questions to her.”

“Oh shit, sorry, where are my manners. I didn't mean to disrespect you like that, Agent Prentiss. It's just been a long few months.”

The other woman just chuckled and shook her head, leafing through some documents to pass you over the information on the case they needed assistance on. 

“We think there's a serial killer in the drug ring you infiltrated,” the woman explained, passing over the files with the case details. You took a moment's breath before opening to the crime scene photos, steeling yourself for what you might encounter. 

“There are probably a lot of serials in the organization. It's a drug ring. What makes this one worse?” You said, just as you flipped the file open and answered your own question. 

“Shit- Okay, that's what makes this one worse. He can't be more than 15, right?” 

The answering grimace on the two agents' faces suggested you'd been generous in your estimate. “Okay, how can I help?” 

xxxxx 

A few hours passed in the interrogation room, and you'd walked them through all of your up to date information on your case and cover. The chair wasn't exactly comfortable, but you were glad to be finally seeing the light at the end of the tunnel. The interview was ending, and you could see an end to your undercover work swiftly following too with the BAU's assistance. 

You weren't looking forward to having to acclimatize back into the real world. You'd gone from pushing papers at a desk 9 hours a day to rubbing shoulders with drug dealers and junkies, a lot of whom were kids, young people like you who had no other options than the streets and crime. 

You made a mental note to give a few warnings to the younger kids on the streets to stay alert and then started getting back into character. 

“Thanks again for your help, Agent. We appreciate your time.” Prentiss nodded at you as she gathered the folders, getting ready to leave. 

Spencer Reid stood, too, stretching himself out as he rose from the chair, giving you quite the show as your eyes dragged from his face, down his chest and down further still as you appreciated the view. 

The last few hours had been strictly professional, and you'd enjoyed bouncing ideas off of him, running through theories. Now, trying to get back into your ‘lusty barmaid’ persona, you thought instead about how much you'd like to bounce on him yourself, possibly while running your hands through his hair. 

A girl could dream. 

“Hold on a second, I'm still in cover, I can't go back out there looking this pristine, it's too suspicious,” you said, the two agents turning back to you curiously. 

“What do you mean?” 

“Someone needs to throw me around a little. Rough housing, you know, a few bruises will do it.” 

Prentiss looked at you, caught halfway between impressed and amused. The good Doctor however seemed to darken slightly, covering his shock with a tensed jaw. 

“She's all yours, Spencer,” Wmily winked at the man, turning the door handle and beginning her exit.

“What? Why?” 

“I don't hit women.” 

“And I do? Emily, wha-” 

But the door to the interrogation room has already closed with a small cackle, and you're already being drawn closer to the man like a moth to a flame. 

Turning to face you, you see the shock of the situation on his face before he looks away in a flash, refusing to meet your eyes as he keeps himself close to the door. 

“Doctor Reid, I'm not actually a criminal, you know?” 

“I thought you wanted one of us to treat you like a criminal now.” 

“You make a good point, shall we begin?” 

He signed and rubbed his temples as you advanced, letting you get a little bit closer before holding his hands up in surrender. 

“Wait, wait, tell me first, what should we be doing?” 

You took a deep breath and expelled it, then took the time to think about it. 

You would need some visible marks of the FBI's unkindness - wrists red, a bruise or two on your knees, maybe, from falling. The problem was, you couldn't think about how to get the marks without driving yourself insane. 

There was a quick and easy way to get tender knees, an even easier way to mark up your neck and chest, but you couldn't figure out how to ask Spencer Reid to do those things without spreading your legs and letting him do whatever he wanted. You weren't sure you wouldn't do that eventually, anyway.

“Let's start with my wrists. You were too generous with the handcuffs earlier - just grab them really tight, pin me against the wall if it helps.”

He nodded and took a hesitant step towards you, thinking for a second, before grabbing one wrist and spinning you around. Before you could even process the action, he had you pinned, chest against the wall, arms above your head. 

“Is that okay?” He asked, his grip tight  but not bruising yet. 

“A little tighter, I want the marks to last a while. Why is my face against the wall?” 

He gripped tighter, the pain sending a jolt through your wrists that trailed all the way down to pool between your thighs. 

“I thought you'd be less uncomfortable like this.” 

“With your dick pushed up against my ass? Yes, Doctor, great decision.” 

He let out a cold, quick laugh, leaving you flushed as he pushed your upper body into the wall, too, finally getting to the grip strength he needed to get attention. 

“I'm sorry to disappoint, Y/N, but that's my gun,” the words whispered in your ear were the last straw as you shuddered in his grasp, his hands releasing your wrists as he stepped back a little. 

You shook out your hands a little, trying to momentarily relive the stiffness in your joints. 

He took a few paces to the desk and upholstered his weapon, placing it on the desk before joining you again. 

“So you don't get confused again,” he explained at seeing your raised eyebrow. 

“Oh so next time, it will be your dick?” You whispered, moving back to the desk and sitting yourself on the edge or it, picking up the gun and studying it for a few minutes. 

“Y/N, put it down.” 

“Ooh, possessive, are we?” You giggled, aiming it at him for a second before grabbing it by the barrel and holding it back out for him to grab. 

“Hold it, point it at me or whatever. Maybe it'll help you rough me up.” 

His brow furrowed, but he grabbed it anyway, not immediately slipping it into the holster as he stepped forward. 

“What now?” He asked, and you shrugged. 

“Whatever feels natural. And looks visible, I guess.”

It took him a few minutes to decide, surveying your body like it was a puzzle. Professionally, of course. You were about to speak up and urge him to get on with it when his hand shot out and wrapped around your throat. 

You tried to gasp, but the grip was firm, and boy, was it driving you crazy. Your legs had naturally parted as you sat yourself on the edge of the desk, and he walked into that space now, his free hand still holding the gun. 

Your body pushed forward into his, suddenly awash with arousal as your chest heaved with tiny breaths, lungs burning. 

“Are you enjoying this, Y/N? Or is it Caitlyn Grant that's enjoying this?” 

You felt the gun touch your thigh gently, and you moaned, just as he softened his grip on your throat. 

“Answer me, please. This is an interrogation room, after all.”

You met his eyes, checking to see how far he would take this, how far you could push back. 

“I'll admit, I'm not against mixing pain and pleasure.” 

His gaze flicked down, slowly pushing his gun up the skin of your thigh, raising your skirt with the barrel to catch a quick glimpse of your panties. 

“I can tell.” 

If it weren't for his grip on you, you'd have lunged for him right then and there. The cool metal against your thigh had you shuddering against him, growing wetter by the minute. 

“I read somewhere once that we can't pretend to be someone else without actually becoming them in some small way. You've been a cartel whore for six months, I wonder if this is a lasting effect.” 

He was so close now all he needed to do to close the gap was change the angle of his head, but he kept you in place with that gun, pointing up from your pussy, flush against your stomach. 

“I'll tell you a secret - the part of me that's aroused right now definitely predates this cover.” 

His lips drop to yours, tongue clashing with yours furiously as he grabs the back of your head to angle you better. 

Letting his hand drop back to your thigh, he gently coaxed you further open, skirt riding up. Putting down the gym momentarily, he pressed a wandering finger against your pantie-clad pussy, feeling your arousal before he used it to coat his fingers. 

A second later and the offending pair of underwear lay discarded on the floor. 

“Fuck, Spencer,” you said, gasping for breath as he again picked up the gun. 

“You wanted this so badly, didn't you? You've been needing someone to treat you like this for months now. It didn't even have to be me.” 

He traced circles on your thigh with the gun, and you twitched, years of training not letting you relax around the weapon and months of sexual frustration, making you desperate for something to touch you. 

“Yes, yes, please touch me.” 

The hand at your throat slid down to your chest and pushed gently  urging you to lie back and let him do whatever he wanted with you. The desk was cold - metal biting at your bare skin - and it only sent more shivers down your spine as he lowered himself to his knees and parted your legs for his tongue. 

The first touch was heaven, a state of bliss you'd been without in what felt like forever. His tongue danced across your folds as he tasted every inch of your exposed cunt, grip still strong on the gun pointed now to your chest, pinning you between the machine and the table. 

You tried to be as still as possible, to take the pleasure he gave calmly, but you couldn't. You writhed, moaned, chest heaving as you tried to hold off the first orgasm you'd achieved with someone else in probably a year.  

Like a man on a mission, Spencer Reid did not care. He gladly suffocated between your thighs as you squeezed them together, wrapping them around his head so you could keep feeling the insurmountable pleasure of his tongue on your pussy. 

“Spencer…Spencer, fuck-” you said as he finally pried your legs apart, lifting them just slightly so his tongue could reach further inside of you, curling with each wave of passion. Your hands fisted his hair, desperate for something to ground you to the moment as your pleasure spilt out of you, orgasm jolting through you in tiny sparks of pleasure. 

The gun moved first, coming level with your chest as you untangled your fingers from his hair. Spencer stood, wiping his face with the back of his hand as he kept the gun on you. 

“I think this turns you on even more. You've been ruined by this cover, Y/N, you're so used to being in danger that you can't even get off without someone threatening you.” 

You attempted to scoff, to brush off his words somehow, but his hand was suddenly back around your throat, picking you up off the desk and pulling you instead towards the room's one-way window. 

“Look at yourself,” he said, again twisting you around so you were pressed into the wall, wrists above your hair, raising your shirt to expose the cold skin underneath. He ran the barrel across the fresh skin, leaving a field of goosebumps along his path. 

“I don't think it would've mattered who came in to rough you up. I think you'd just as happily have convinced Emily to fuck your little pussy raw, right Y/N? As long as there was a gun…” 

Your moan was the only response as he used the weapon to spread your legs. You naturally arched your back and kept your hands in place as he holstered the weapon momentarily to unzip his pants and let his cock free. 

You couldn't see it, but you saw his reflection in the mirror as he slowly stretched you out with it, mouth dropping in a lustful ‘o’ as he fed his dick to you, hard and thick. 

As soon as it was in, the gun came back out, this time to rest against your temple. 

“Get yourself off,” his voice was so low it was practically a growl. “Use my cock, and pleasure yourself.” 

Your body listened immediately, beginning to move back and forth on his cock as he held himself in place. His moans and groans were all the encouragements you needed, the gun at your temple was just made the pleasure more profound as you approached your release. 

But he kept you pinned to the glass, your full range of motion limited, and you whimpered in frustration that you couldn't feel every inch of him. 

“If you need something, use your words, Agent.” 

“More, need more, please..please,” you gasped, breathing ragged. 

The hands at your wrists released, and he fisted a hand into the flesh at your hip, your wrists resting on the glass next to your face as he took over your thrusting. 

“Can't even do this anymore, what a spoiled little whore,” he said as his hips began snapping into you, reaching that spot deep inside you as you drooled against the glass, wondering if anyone had just happened to step into that room and what they must think about you. 

“Cum for me, Y/N. Cum on my cock,” he said it, and entranced, your body did just that, your orgasm taking the last breath of strength you had as he too plunged himself deeper and stilled there, his cum coating your walls. 

Neither of you moved for an eternity, but the first sign of clarity returning was the careful return of the gun to the holster. 

Pulling a handkerchief from his pocket, Spencer minimized the mess you made together, cleaning you up as he slipped out of you. Discarding it momentarily on the floor, he pulled your clothes back into position and led you back over to the chairs. Just as he moved to sit you down, though, you turned and wrapped your arms around his waist, pulling him into a hug. 

His arms hung suspended for a minute or two before he let them rest on your back, stroking your hair. 

“Sorry, it's been… it's been lonely, and I didn't realize how hard it had been until-” 

“It's okay. Take your time,” he said, sitting down in the chair and letting you curl up in his lap, burying your head in his neck

“We’ll catch this guy, and then you're out, okay Y/N? We'll come back and get you out soon.” 

Lifting your eyes to his, you nodded, pressing your lips to his with a smile as you again worked yourself back into character, regaining your earlier composure and lifting yourself from the man's too comfortable arms. 

“Well, Spencer, what do you say we get me back into panties and handcuffs and cut Caitlyn Grant loose?” 

[starstruckmiraclekitty]

Simon felt terrible for what he was doing, but he truly felt what he was doing was the right thing. Last night should never have happened, and he knew deep down you deserved better than him.

The two of you had slept together the night before, both of your harbored crushes for one another finally bubbling to the surface, leading to a night in Simon’s bed.

But when the reality of what the night had truly meant for you both set in, Simon felt himself questioning if it was really the right thing for both of you.

So instead of talking to you like he knows he should’ve, he began finding excuses to distance himself from you, and spent nearly the entire day not acknowledging your presence.

It wasn’t until later that night, when everyone had gone to bed did you finally confront him. When you walked up to him, Simon could clearly tell you had been crying, and it nearly tore his heart in half.

“Simon, can we talk please? You’ve been avoiding me all day.” Your voice was laced with trepidation, something Simon wasn’t used to being on the receiving end of.

“Can’t, got an early mornin’.” Simon hated how cold his voice sounded, and he could hear the soft gasp from you in response. “Goodnight, Sergeant.”

“Will you just talk to me, please?” You begged, grabbing Simon’s arm with as much strength as you could muster. “I don’t know what I did wrong, but you ignoring me all day is really screwing with my head, Simon.”

Simon looked at the floor, his mind racing with things he wanted to say to you, but nothing came out as his throat ran dry. He stood there a moment, before his eyes lifted up to you, his gut wrenching when he saw tears falling down your cheeks.

“Are you not going to say anything?” You asked, your voice shaking as you dropped your hand from his arm. “Was last night was a mistake?”

Fuck no it wasn’t. Not to him. Last night was one of the best nights of his life. The woman he’d yearned for years for finally returning his affections, a night of the best sex he’s ever had. God no he didn’t think it was a mistake.

But that didn’t matter right now. Simon knew now how you truly felt for him, and he knew it was just a matter of time before he unwittingly broke your heart, and he needed to protect you from that. He needed to protect himself from that.

So he kept quiet, he watched as your bottom lip quivered, and as tears continued to fall down your cheeks. Watching you like this destroyed Simon, but he told himself this was for the best.

“I guess I have my answer then. I apologize for thinking I meant anything more to you than a shameless fuck.” You held your head high, biting your bottom lip to prevent it from quivering and turned to walk out of the room.

“Y/N.” Simon spoke, causing you to turn around. “Look, I just don’t think this would be a good idea. I’m your superior, and a relationship between us would be frowned upon. It’s not you, it’s-.”

“Don’t insult me by finishing that sentence, Simon.” You waived your hand, cutting him off. You felt a new wave of confidence build in your chest as you looked up at him. “I don’t know what changed between last night and today, but I guess it doesn’t matter now. Clearly this was one sided on my part. We’ll just forget this ever happened and move on. Good night, Ghost.”

The use of his code name hurt more than Simon would let on. There were so many things he wanted to say in reply, so many unspoken words swirling about in his head- but all he could do was watch you turn on your heel and walk away from him.

And all Simon could do was wonder if he was truly doing the right thing, for the woman he loved.

[highdefhoetry]

the strawhat pirates when they realize they love you.

summary: gender neutral reader. something wholesome for a change. this can be interpreted as platonic, romantic, or whatever other kind of relationship you want!

luffy knows you’re going to be one of his best friends as soon as he meets you. the two of you hit it off right away, spending almost every waking minute together laughing, eating, or doing some stupid shit like pulling rubber stunts on the deck after seeing who could chug the most juice. he wins at almost every game you play, but he never makes you feel like a sore loser. when you’re not around, he’s bored out of his mind waiting for you to get back. and when you’re together again, all hell breaks loose. the two of you get into a lot of trouble, but it’s worth getting a scolding from the rest of the crew. being with him is just so fun! 

usopp realizes what’s going on while he’s building a trinket for you. he stares at the empty space beside him at his work desk, suddenly missing your presence and feeling the weight of your absence. he got so used to you barging into his workshop, asking about every little piece and part strewn about and how everything fits together, that now it feels almost empty without you. you're the only one that shows an interest in his engineering. you're the only one that listens to his tall tales and actually believes in him. you're the only one that looks up to him as a hero. and when he does realize why he's got this fluttery feeling in his chest, all he can do is smile. he’ll make sure to build you the best weapon a warrior can wield!

it takes time for zoro to make sense of his feelings. he’s not a mushy guy, and he’s good at keeping his emotions in check. but that changes when you come along. he’s always been a loner, preferring time away from others to focus on training and growing even stronger, so it was difficult for him to adjust when you suddenly started hanging around him. but in time, he realizes that he doesn’t mind your company. he’s not much of a talker, but he finds himself blabbering on and on when you ask him about swordsmanship and combat. it’s the only chance he gets to talk about his life’s work. he even offers to train you, if you’re willing to go through his bootcamp of hell. that’s when it hits him; you’re something special. no one else gets to be this close to him. no one else gets him talking like this. no one else makes his heart soar, except for you.

sanji knows he loves you as soon as he starts memorizing all your favorite dishes. after his initial infatuation with you wears off, something deeper takes its place. a rich, decadent feeling of care that tastes oh so sweet. he hates when people come in the kitchen while he’s cooking and always kicks them out no matter who they are, but for some reason he can’t say no when he sees your face pop in. his heart melts when you offer to help him prep, and he swoons when he watches you chop vegetables or stir the simmering sauce for him on the stovetop. he doesn’t mind if the ingredients are misshapen, or if the minced veggies aren’t exactly minced. the food you make together always tastes amazing.

nami knows you’ve got her wrapped around your finger when you ask her for money and she doesn't say no. she always keeps a tight fist when it comes to finances, but for some reason she just doesn't have the heart to refuse. she’ll still make a fuss and complain; she worked hard to steal that cash, damn it! why would she just hand it over?! but one look into those eyes of yours and she’s done for. she’ll grumble about a 300% interest rate as you grab the cash from her hand, but she’ll forget all about it when you come back with that new thing you’d been eyeing in town for weeks. she’ll sigh, ask you to show it to her, and decide to waive the fees for now when she sees that wide smile on your face. seeing you happy is priceless.

robin knows she’s got it bad when she finds herself smiling for no reason every time you come around. you show great interest in her archeology studies, listening intently as she rambles about ancient polyglyphs and civilizations lost to time. with you, she feels like she can finally pass down her extensive knowledge to someone who is just as passionate about history as she is. the two of you often sit together in comfortable silence reading books about bones and artifacts, and while your face is buried between the pages, she’ll glance over and watch you with a small smile. her heart warms when she sees the focus and passion on your face. finally, she has a friend that will never leave her side.

[imbored1201]

Will I be make a request of teen barca reader being hurt or doing ACL and all other girls caring for her?? Thanks

By Your Side

Barcelona Femeni x Teen Reader

Word Count: 1,409

 

When you went down, you knew right away what it was; a through pass from Aitana had you running to get it; you had stopped when the opponent beat you to it to defend; then you heard the pop. 

Just yesterday, Mapi tore her meniscus. Now you were lying here with a tore acl. The opponent was quick to kick the ball out of play as they saw you were still down. 

"You okay?" Caroline asked you as she put a hand on your shoulder. You shook your head rapidly as you started crying. "It's my acl," you sobbed. Caroline put a hand on your back as she waived for the medics. Patri also ran to check on you, letting you grip her hand. 

Soon they were questioning you while Caroline and Patri stayed close, refusing to leave your side, even with Jonatan trying to call them over to hydrate. 

"Don't touch it," you told the medics; it hurt so bad. "We just need to feel it," they reassured you. You whimpered at that touch, squeezing poor Patri's hand tighter. "We need to do scans; I'm sorry Y/N, but it's most likely your acl" 

They waved for a stretcher. "I don't want to go alone," you cried to them. "You're not; Frido is going to go with you." Patri was quick to signal someone to call Frido. One look, and Frido understood, and she got to her feet and waited for you to get off the field. 

You got a lot of pats on the shoulder and head from both teams as you were stretchered off. 

"Frido," you cried out as you reached for her. "Stay down," the medics told you since you tried to sit up. "I'm right here," Frido assured you as she walked along with you. 

—————

You were now half asleep, propped up on painkillers, your head lying in Frido's lap as she played with your hair and talked to Alexia. 

With the help of Fridolina, you were changed into some comfy clothes. She wanted to take you home or call Alexia to come get you, but you wanted to watch the game.

But Fridolina knew you were overwhelmed and the noises from the crowd would make it worse, so she put the game on the TV that was in the medical room. 

With you asleep, she took the opportunity to call Alexia, who was stressed since she was watching the game; usually she would come watch it, but she was also having a lot of trouble with her knee.

It pained her more knowing that you would have to go through what she went through; she just hoped it would go more smoothly for you since you were young. 

————

You were woken up when your teammates were back in the locker room. They had won the game, but it didn't feel like it. The atmosphere was dead silent as they watched you with your crutches. 

You were passed around, everyone giving you a tight hug and comforting you. Jonatan was trying to give you words of encouragement; you appreciated it, but it didn't make you feel better. 

————

When you saw Alexia's car, you broke. She hurriedly got out and made her way to you, pulling you into a tight hug and rubbing your back. You sobbed into her neck. 

"Everything will be okay," she comforted. She let you cry for a little more. Fridolina stayed close, wrapping the blanket she had stolen from the locker room around you.

The rest of the day, she tried her best to cheer you up; she got your favorite; she put on your favorite movie; she even attempted to bake some cookies for you; they were a bit burned, but you still ate them since she looked sad about it. 

————

Alexia looked at you sadly as she helped you into the car. You were getting your scans done, even though it was pretty obvious what it was.

"You'll be okay going in there by yourself?" She asked, you nodded, waiting to be called in. She looked hesitant, though. "I'll be fine; I already know what it is anyway." 

————

Of course, what you had thought was right; it was your ACL. This meant it was the end of your season. 

You sat silently in the car, something so unusual to Alexia; usually you would be arguing with her over not letting you have the window down. 

"Bebeta, everything will be okay," you shook your head. "What if I'm not the same after Alexia" She stayed silent at that, but she noticed the tears that were starting to fall down your face. 

"You can't start thinking like that; take it one day at a time. You know this whole team is going to be here to support you." You nodded, reaching out to hug her. She rubbed your back and kissed your head.

"Is surgery scary?" "It is, but it goes by quickly, and you know I'll be there when you wake up with your favorite food." You nodded. "Can we go watch the girls train?" Alexia nodded. 

Alexia saw that as a good idea since the girls were texting and calling her nonstop. They were asking about you, and they wanted to come over, but Alexia knew you would be overwhelmed by it. 

—————

The girls cheered as they saw you. "How are you, Bebita?" Irene asked you, hugging you tightly. "I'm fine," she told her, and she gave you a look. 

"You don't have to act tough right here; how are you really?" You shrugged, "I'll be fine." Irene let you go, and you were immediately swept up in a hug by Lucy. 

"When is your surgery?" Lucy asked you, "Next Friday, Alexia and Mapi already said they were going to take care of me." Lucy nodded and gave you one last kiss on the forehead before passing you to Ingrid. "I'll send you chocolate," Ingrid told you, even slipping a piece of your favorite chocolate in your pocket. 

You stayed by her side during her workouts. Mostly because she was sneaking you more treats.

Once the girls got onto the field, Jana and Bruna were tasked with cheering you up while Alexia talked to Jonatan.

Obviously, they both knew what it felt like; even right now, they were both still in recovery, watching from afar.

"You're our new buddy," Jana told you. "I guess," you shrugged. "Trust me, it's not as bad as it seems; you actually get to laugh when one of the girls gets yelled at without getting in trouble for it." Bruna threw a water bottle at you. Your favorite thing to do was laugh at your teammates when they got in trouble, but it always got you extra laps. 

"That seems fun," Jana nodded. "And look at me; I have more time to visit Jill." You gave her a disgusted look. "I don't want to know about your love life," Jana rolled her eyes, commenting on how you were just jealous that she actually had a love life. 

————

The aftermath of the surgery was pretty rough. You were stuck with a bucket attached to you, and Alexia and Mapi had to calm you down every time you spilled your guts into it. Fridolina visited you after surgery and got you a big stuffed bear. 

When everyone got back from the game in Sweden, you were getting visits every day and a bunch of gifts. The older girls were getting you video games and books. The younger girls gave you lots of nerf guns and spray paint. Alexia was quick to take away the spray paint, but she let you keep the nerf guns as long as you didn’t shoot anyone in the eye.

Despite that, she was there for you every step of the way. They all were: Lucy was a good shoulder to cry on, Ingrid and Mapi gave you the best motivational speeches, and Fridolina was the best cook for when you wanted to stress eat. Alexia, of course, was there to keep you in check. 

Aitana, Patri, and Pina were there to drag you outside if you isolated yourself too much; as long as they brought you back in one piece, Alexia was fine with it.

Overall, with your support system, you felt confident about the situation. You were sure you would be able to make it back, and you just hoped you would be the same player you were before. 

[togrowoldinv]

Settlement

Milf!Wanda Maximoff x Female Reader

You serve as Wanda’s attorney in her divorce proceedings, which leads to you helping Wanda see she can start again with someone new

Warnings: Smut! 18+ please! Kissing, cursing, slight mommy kink, fingering (W receiving), oral (R receiving)

Note: Milf Wanda 🤩 Enjoy!

Milf Wanda Masterlist, Main Masterlist

You try to never get too close to your clients. In your career, you like to form personal relationships with the people you provide services for, but never too personal.

That system was working pretty well until you met Wanda Maximoff. A friend of hers had suggested you to her for legal services. Her husband had hired the second-best attorney in town to defend him in the divorce. She insisted that, as the best, you help her.

You felt drawn to Wanda from the first moment you met her. She has an endearing way about her. She captivates the attention of everyone in the room without ever uttering a word. Just her presence is enough to draw attention.

There were several late nights spent at the office working on her case. You would call her and discuss how things were going. She had to get up early to get her kids ready for school, but she always stayed on the line until she was practically asleep.

Today, the case was finally settled. Wanda got the custody she wanted, thanks to you. If you’re being honest with yourself, you felt sad seeing Wanda for the last time. Her company is something you’ve grown accustomed to.

Wanda felt the same way. Which is why she got her checkbook and drove to your office one more time. You are deep in the next case’s work papers when you hear a knock on your door.

“I’m busy,” you mumble, figuring it was someone needing your assistance.

“Too busy for me?” your favorite voice in the world says.

You look up from your files to see her standing there in all of her glory. The beautiful Wanda Maximoff.

“Is everything alright, Ms. Maximoff?” You ask, standing up from your desk.

Wanda notices the way your eyes flicker to the way her chest looks in the blouse she’s wearing. She eyes your body too as you don a dark colored suit.

“Oh yes, everything is fine,” Wanda says. “I just wanted to thank you again for everything.”

“You’re welcome, ma’am,” you say.

Wanda is definitely older than you and her eyes tend to darken when you use terms like ma’am or call her missus.

“Come further in and have a seat.”

“Thank you, sweetheart,” Wanda says. The word flows off her tongue with ease. “Have I mentioned that this office is very impressive?”

“You have, but I never mind hearing it again,” you tell her. You can’t help the grin that forms on your face. “It feels nice to have my own space.”

“Right,” Wanda says. “While I’m here, I thought I could pay my final bill.”

“Oh, you don’t need to do that until you get an invoice,” you say. “I talked to the billing department and did get some of those fees waived though. I don’t want finances to be an issue.”

“Well, thank you,” she says. “I guess I should just be going then.”

“Have a good night, ma’am.”

Wanda stands up and walks towards the door. You notice she takes her time. So much of you wants to stand up and call after her, but you just aren’t sure if you should.

Luckily, Wanda turns around on her on accord.

“Y/n,” she begins. “Forgive me if I’m overstepping, but do you think I have a chance at this new single thing?”

“Meaning?”

“I haven’t been alone since I was sixteen,” Wanda says. She walks back to the chair she was previously sitting in. “I don’t know how to be single.”

“It’ll be an adjustment,” you say. “But I know you can do it.”

“Maybe if I just get the first times out of the way,” Wanda wonders aloud. “Like the first date, kiss, all of that.”

You listen to her but don’t say anything. You can’t get a read on her. Does she want to do those things with you? Or are you projecting?

“Maybe we could- never mind,” Wanda says.

“We could what?” you finally speak again.

“Well, it’s just you have been so kind to me,” she says. “I was thinking maybe you could help me out one last time.”

“Okay,” you say. “How can I help you?”

“Will you kiss me?” Wanda asks.

“Oh.”

“I just- no I know it’s silly!” Wanda says.

She stands and paces in front of your desk. You rise and walk to her.

“Hey, it’s not silly,” you say.

“No?”

“No. If you want me to, I will kiss you.”

“Please.”

You take her face between your hands and brush her cheeks with your thumbs. The blush on her cheeks and the way she closes her eyes in anticipation makes your heart flutter.

Taking your time to lean in, you finally place your lips on hers. The electricity is palpable. You kiss her slowly, taking in everything that is Wanda. She deepens the kiss. When your tongue brushes against hers, she loses balance.

“Oh,” Wanda mumbles, pulling away just enough to regain her balance.

“How was that?” You ask her.

“Better than I could’ve ever imagined.”

“Yeah?”

Wanda nods. She feels herself yearning for you even more now. Asking for a kiss was a test to see if she wanted more.

Without uttering a word, she kisses you this time. Wanda pushes you back towards your desk, and you sit on the edge. Her intentions are clear in the way she slots her thigh between your legs.

“Wanda,” you say breathlessly. She moves her lips to your neck. “Wanda. Ms. Maximoff, slow down.”

Wanda stops and looks at you. You’re both flushed.

“Are you okay?” She asks.

“Yeah. I just want to make sure you want this.”

“I want this. I want you, sweetheart.”

“Then take me.”

Wanda gasps at your words, and you continue to take her breath away. Your hands make quick work of unbuttoning her blouse. The material falls to the floor along with her bra. You move your lips to her chest and suck on her perfect nipples.

She lets out the most beautiful moans. You move your hand to her pants and slip it down her jeans. Moving your fingers over her wet folds, you nip at her breasts.

“Fuck,” Wanda says. “Baby, please.”

“I’ve got you, mommy,” the word slips out.

“Fuck,” she mumbles.

You pull down her pants and finally insert your fingers into her. She gasps with every thrust.

“Come for me, mommy,” you tell her. “All for me.”

“All for you, baby,” Wanda says.

She comes hard against your fingers. She buries her face in your shoulder as she regains her breath. You kiss her head.

“May I?” Wanda asks, her eyes shyly looking towards your core.

“You may,” you say, with a slight chuckle at her sweetness.

Wanda kneels in front of you and pulls your pants down to the floor. She drops kisses to your thighs.

“Don’t tease me, Wanda.”

She continues to kiss you everywhere but where you need her the most. You take her hair and pull her into your pussy. Wanda licks you before taking your clit in her mouth.

“Fuck, mommy,” you say.

“Fuck,” she moans against you.

It doesn’t take long for Wanda to make you come against her tongue. You bring her up for a searing kiss.

You’re both breathless as you look into each other’s eyes. Your hearts flutter.

“Thank you,” Wanda says.

“Anytime, Ms. Maximoff,” you say. “Only the best for my clients.”

Wanda giggles sweetly, and you kiss her lips once again. You have a feeling you’ll be doing this quite often.

[lovemly4]

HE GIVES ME BUTTERFLIES

Word count: 2.3 k

Pairing: BestFriend!Felix x Reader

Warnings: Smut, best friends to lovers, piv sex, unprotected sex (wrap it please), blowjob, facesitting, semi public sex (??), praising, aftercare, explicit language, MINORS DNI 18+

“And… Done! Good job, you can rest now. We’re done for today” my choreographer says, turning off the music and handing me a bottle of water.

I chug eagerly, exhausted by the practice. Today has been particularly hard for me and I don’t exactly know the reason behind it, but now I find myself sat against the mirror, catching my breath as if it was the last.

“I’m leaving, are you coming with me?” my teacher asks me, waiting in the door frame

“No thanks, I think I’ll practice again a couple of times, then I’ll call it a night.” she nods, waiving her hand as her figure disappears behind the wall.

I wait until my heartbeat slows down, boringly scrolling through my Instagram feed, and I come across one of my friend’s latest posts.

And damn, he was devilishly handsome in that picture.

I’ve been friends with Felix for a long time: he was one of the first people to approach me when I got accepted into the dance school, and in one way or another our teachers noticed the alchemy between me and him.

Since then, they paired the two of us for many choreographies.

But that’s it.

No romantic feelings between me and Felix.

No love, no lust, no desire.

Just a really deep friendship.

But then why do I feel that burning feeling in my heart whenever he’s around? And why do I crave his presence when he’s not?

I force myself out of my thoughts, getting prepared to practice again.

I get in position in the middle of the room waiting for the song to start, still chewing on those memories with him.

The door suddenly opens, letting someone burst in and invade my bubble of thoughts.

“Hello love, missed me?” a joyful voice says, tossing his bag on the empty sofa in his trajectory.

Speak of the devil…

I turn to face him, an expression of fake-annoyance on my face while he walks in where i stand.

He picks me up and we twirl together, gently putting me down and pinching my cheek while he smiles at me.

“Wasn’t your teacher supposed to be here today? Has she lost hope with you? Poor thing. “He looks around panting, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“You clown. She was here five minutes ago, must have sensed you coming and decided to sneak out.” I flick his forehead, earning a laugh from him “but you can stay here if you want, I���m almost done”

He nods and makes his way to sit on the sofa.

Being a professional dancer, I usually don’t mind people watching me; but there’s something about his gaze that makes my skin burn like a hot sun, leaving me raw and exposed.

I start dancing for the hundredth time this day, even if I feel that my movements are not fluid and confident like they’re supposed to be.

It doesn’t go unnoticed by him, of course, and he walks towards me.

“What’s going on with you today?” he sweetly asks placing himself behind me. He grabs my waist with his right hand, and gently holds my arm up with his left.

Our eyes meet in the wall mirror in front of us: he’s warm, and I can feel his breath on the nape of my neck. I helplessly shiver at the feeling.

“You’re stiff. I’ll help you with this move, alright?” he moves our bodies together as one “just like that”.

His warm voice, his presence, his body against mine make my head spin, holding onto his arm as I turn around to face him.

“Already trembling like a leaf and I haven’t almost touched you.”

Shit.

My eyes widen in shock at his words, heart going crazy in my chest. He holds my head up by the chin, lips brushing over mines. His steady gaze burns on my skin, still sensitive from his body against mine.

“Who thought I could’ve had you in my arms like this all along?” his voice is deep, hot with lust and desire, and his breath is fanning against my lips.

He won; he knew it. And I let him.

His presence had always filled me, from day one. I was just too blind to see it.

“please” I beg him.

I don’t like the way my voice sounds, it’s whiny and shaky, and we both know he’s the only person who causes it to be like that.

“Please what, love?” his expression is serious, he’s eager to hear me beg again for him.

But I don’t have time to try and speak once more, the fire in my core is demanding.

I pull him down to meet his lips in a chaste kiss, soon to be replaced by tongues fighting and teeth shattering against each other’s.

He picks me up, blindly heading towards the sofa as the kiss gets too heated to just stop. I lose myself in his flavor, my hands find his hair at the base of his head, slightly pulling and feeling the soft strands between my fingers.

That’s when I know I won the jackpot, he pulls away and tightens the grasp on my butt cheeks.

He puts me down gently, sitting beside me as I climb onto his lap. His hands are on my waist, slightly gripping while I trace gentle wet kisses on his Adam’s apple.

His skin is hot, sweet, and it smells like him.

Confident hands rise my shirt, taking the fabric with him up my head to remove it.

“Lix, are you sure?” I look at him worried, suddenly realizing that we still are in a public place.

“They all went home, it’s just us in here” he smiles reassuringly, leaving a small peck on my lips.

I chuckle and tug at the black fabric of his oversized shirt, lazily resting on his upper body.

He lifts his arms to ease my work and I can’t help but stare at his toned body, my hands flattened against his waist.

Everything is harmonious in this man; he doesn’t even look real.

He knows he looks like an angel, and he makes sure to make you feel heaven.

My mouth traces a long line of kisses down his waist, hands following my movements as he throws his head back in pleasure, abs tensed and the tent in the middle of his joggers more and more prominent.

I palm his manhood through the fabric, feeling the outline of it and eager to feel him wherever I can take him.

I pull down both his pants and his boxers in one movement, freeing his half hard cock that now rests on his lower abdomen.

I take it in my hand, slowly pumping it and spreading the little drops of precum down his shaft; he’s hot in my hand, prettier than I imagined.

His breathing is heavy, trying his best not to let moans escape his mouth.

“Don’t hold back Lix, let me hear you.”

He smiles, hissing at my words, stroking my hair and tangling his fingers through it slightly pulling, guiding my mouth down his member while our eyes never leave each other’s.

“Fuck- you’re so good, just like that baby” his words are strained, breathy, almost forced to come out and threatened to be interrupted by his low moans.

I take him in my mouth: he’s deliciously heavy on my tongue, the salty taste of his precum mixing with the sweetness of his kisses.

He stops my movements, smiling reassuringly at my confused face.

“Don’t worry love, you did nothing wrong. But I could cum just by looking at you, and we don’t want that to happen so soon, do we?”

Cheeks blushing, I clean the spit in the corners of my mouth with the back of my hand, eyes following Felix’s movements as he gets comfortable laying down on the sofa, his head on the arm rest.

“Come on pretty girl, sit on my face” he states, patting his chest.

I stand there, unable to put together enough words to express my confusion.

“But- are you sure? What if I hurt you?” I stutter in disbelief.

I sit there shocked, unable to understand if my confusion is given by his request or by the excitement in anticipation.

But it doesn’t feel wrong, at all.

It’s intimate, and I know that I can trust him with my entire heart.

I climb on his chest, his soft and delicate hands helping me strip out of my shorts and panties.

He doesn’t waste time and quickly grips at my thighs: he’s not rough, but he makes me feel safe.

And incredibly horny.

And by the way our eyes talk I understand that he knows what he’s doing and what I’m thinking. He always knew.

We always knew, after all.

I align my bare core to his mouth, still unsure of how much weight to put on him.

But he’s impatient, he’s not worried at all, he grabs the flesh of my thighs and pulls me down in one quick motion.

He licks a long strip, flicking his tongue on my sensitive clit. His tongue is wet and warm against my cunt, feels molded to do that job, and his lips surround his work, stroking the labia from time to time.

God, who thought he could be so nasty?

He alternates between fucking my hole with his tongue and giving attention to the bundle of nerves, and I can’t help but moan his name like a mantra.

I soon feel the familiar knot forming in my lower abdomen, hot and delightful.

“Ah-Lix, please don’t stop” but he didn’t even think about it, not when he has me shaky and whiny under his hands.

I start grinding and fucking myself on his face, his nose hitting my sweet spot with each thrust, chasing my orgasm; his fingers dig in the meat of my legs, as he brings up a hand to massage my breasts. He flicks the rosy bud between two fingers, playing with it, soon starting to make me lose control.

I feel my blood boiling, heat in my whole body while his mouth and fingers work the magic.

“Fe-Felix, ngh- gonna cum” I beg while grinding his face and tugging at his hair. My orgasm is soon to come, crashing down on me and making me see stars, leaving me shaky while he works his way through it.

I move away from his face, freeing him of my grip on his head.

My juices are on his mouth and chin, glistening with the dim light of the room. He’s such a view.

“I could’ve bet you tasted divine” he states licking his lips while I catch my breath, fucked out expression on my face.

“Look at you, already so drunk and I didn’t even start” he whispers, moving a strand of hair out of my face kissing me tenderly, as if he waited years to savor this moment and finally fate was on his side.

But we did, though. Idiots in love, just too stupid to see it.

He moves us putting me on his lap, letting me do the rest.

“Let me, I can do this” I swear reassuringly, his dark half hooded eyes staring at me.

I lower his joggers where they were moments before, his still hard veiny cock slapping against his tummy.

I gently stroke it, spitting in my hand and spreading it evenly, while he grows impatient and low groans make their way out of his throat “Don’t tease, please” he begs.

I smirk, aligning it with my entrance, the wetness of my previous orgasm enough to make it slide in easily.

We exhale once it’s fully in, like we’ve both been holding our breath, tears pricking at the corners of my eyes and his mouth hanging open.

He places his hand on my hips, helping me set the pace as the other one finds my breast. Felix has a weakness for tits, noted.

I grind myself on his dick; I can feel his silky skin under my hands, flattened against his abdomen. The tip is hitting the right spot inside me, my clit brushing against his pubic bone feels delightful.

“Fuck- darling you’re perfect, such a good girl for me” he whimpers, noticing my thrusts getting weaker.

He hugs my waist to lift me up, my breast in front of his face in the motion while he starts relentlessly thrusting up, loud skin slapping noises and our moans filling the room, making the filthiest melody we’ve both ever heard.

He brings his thumb to my mouth, wetting it enough to stroke my clit, gently flicking it and making me drip even more.

I feel my orgasm approaching once more, the sight of Felix’s fucked out expression adding to the tingles bubbling in my tummy.

“I’m- close” I manage to say between breaths “I know baby, hold on a little longer” he moans out against the flesh of my shoulder slightly biting on it, the sting of the action just adding to the pleasure.

“Felix, I can’t, please” I cry out against his neck, too fucked out to form a coherent sentence

“Cum baby, go on” his hips stutter against mines “gonna cum inside you, alright love?” he asks, but i don’t even have the time to say anything before our highs crash down the both of us, leaving us a hot mess.

I pant against his chest, heat fading and leaving space to the cold air in the room. He strokes my hair, leaving gentle and sweet kisses on my forehead.

I look up into his eyes: they’re glossy, and a strange glow enhances the color of his iris. Keeping a steady hand on my waist, he uses the other one to open his bag and pull out a clean shirt.

He cleans the both of us, paying extra attention to where our bodies where still connected. He looks for my clothes, helping me getting dressed and handing me his bottle of water.

We lay there, my eyes getting heavy as he talks quietly in the emptiness of the building.

A loud noise startles me, immediately searching for Felix’s eyes.

“Oh… yeah. I might have forgotten about the cleaning women” he states, awkwardly scratching the back of his head.

I cover my face with my hands exhaling exasperated

“I can’t fucking believe it”.

a/n: Hello! First smutty one shot here, so it might be highly improvable. Let me know!!

[vanwritesfan-fiction]

Water balloon fight with Jack. Perfect for summer.

Hot and Bothered

Warning: a tiny bit suggestive

“Baby, I’m home.” Jack let out a heavy sigh as he dropped his bag by the door and slipped off his shoes before making his way though the quiet house. He’d had shitty days before, but today just seemed determined to show out. He searched the living room and dining room for you before coming across a white plastic bucket of water balloons and a note.

I’m in the backyard hiding somewhere. Come find me.

Jack chuckled to himself as he looked through the doors towards the empty backyard. He could always count on you to try to get him out of a funk, and after the week he’d had, he was glad you knew how to have a little fun.

He grabbed a tank top and shorts out of his gym bag, and quickly changed before grabbing his bucket of ammo and heading outside. You both fell in love with this house because of the backyard, the patio doors opening to an expansive pool and an acre of grass. Eventually, this would be the house you’d raise your family in, but for now, the backyard hosted a lot of great get-togethers with family and friends.

“Where are you hiding, babe?”, Jack called out to you in a sly, dark tone, inching his way across the grass. “If you come out now, I’ll take it easy on you.” Jack put his basket down and grabbed one of the balloons, gingerly tossing it in the air. “Come out, come out, wherever you are!”

The first hit to the back startled Jack as the balloon you tossed hit him square between the shoulder blades. “Oh, my good, that’s freezing!” Jack’s head was on a swivel, but you were quicker than he anticipated, darting behind the patio furniture. “That’s not fair, you’ve got ninja speed or something”, Jack huffed, trying his best not to get frustrated again.

“I thought you played soccer, shouldn’t you have better stamina than this?”, you retorted with a giggle. You always knew how to playfully hit his ego and he not-so-secretly loved proving you wrong. He caught you out of the corner of his eye as you ran to the opposite end of the pool and chucked a balloon that landed just at your feet. “Ha!”, you teased, “I thought you’d be a lot better than this!” You immediately ate your words as he flung another balloon, bursting as it hit you in the arm.

“I am better at this than you thought!” Jack cracked a smile as you wiped your wet face with the sleeve of your t-shirt. The two of you went blow for blow for a while before you were both too tired to continue. Jack was the first to wave the white flag.

“I’m exhausted, babe. Do you want to call it a truce?” Jack waived his hands in the air, his wet curls plastered to his face, his tank top completely drenched. You wanted to trust him, but you couldn’t help but notice he still had a balloon in his hand.

“Depends, are you in a better mood now?”, you asked with a craned eyebrow. It wasn’t like Jack to let things get to him for so long, but this week had been difficult for both of you, and you were starting to worry about him. His career was always stressful, and you wanted him to know that home was his safe place.

Jack let out a sharp breath as he stroked at his beard. “I-I’m sorry. I’m under a lot of pressure from the label and things aren’t flowing for me like they usually do. I feel like I’m losing-“. Hi sentence was halted by a water balloon hitting him in the nose. You clamped a hand over your mouth, not expecting the balloon to land that high. “Jack, I am so sorry!” You expected him to be upset, but instead, he just bellowed over with laughter, happy tears undistinguishable from the drops of water on his face.

“Thank you for the reality check”. You could see his body relax, days of tension leaving his muscles. “But you know-“, Jack looked at the water balloon in his hand, before looking back at you. “I’m gonna have to get you back for that.” You took steps back away from him, getting closer and closer to the edge of the pool.

You frantically waived your arms, “Jack, don’t do anything stupid.” Expecting him to throw the balloon, you ducked, shielding your face, fully unaware that Jack had dropped the balloon and ran full speed toward you, holding you as you both fell into the pool. You broke the surface, pushing your hair out of your face as you heard Jack cackling with laughter.

“That was for the balloon to the face”, Jack said with a grin. He pulled you over to him by the waist, your arms draping around his shoulders as he pulled you in for a kiss. You gripped the hair at the nape of his neck between your fingers, your makeout session about to get hot and heavy before you pulled away for a breath.

“What are you doing? I was getting in a better mood”, Jack whined, making you roll your eyes.

“Yeah, yeah”, you sneered as you lifted yourself out of the pool. “C’mon, we can finish what we started in the shower”. You’d never seen Jack move so quickly as he pushed himself over the edge, picking you up into his arms and running into the house.

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Hello I have no idea if your doing requests or if you do like one shots, but I do have something only if you’re interested and have time! It can be yandere or not! It’s a Riddle x reader (can be gen n or fem) who tries to balance being liked and being a rule follower only to fail miserably and basically becomes that one kid in school that no one likes.

The reader is a mega teacher’s pet, not only to the teachers by actively participating with extreme excitement, but also to Housewardens especially Riddle. Before she even got in rolled in NRC she actively memorized most of not almost all 810 rules (ofc not all of them that’d be impossible). She especially likes to make sure everyone else knows knows that she knows almost all of them and follows them like she does. She’d go out of her way to find someone breaking the rules and become a tattletale “You! You violated rule 53! If you don’t stop that now. I! Will be forced!… To Tell The Housewarden!”. “Oh Housewarden! Didn’t you say it yourself that anyone who violates rule 562 during a unbirthday will be an immediate off with their head?” . “Why am I going against rule 88? Because I am a honorary and loyal member of Heartslabyul who as worked hard to gain such a well deserved reputation… and riddle said that I could. So yeah…👉👈”

Riddle says that he doesn’t like the reader and doesn’t give her special treatment because of how good she is, but the only reason why everyone knows he has a crush is because he is the only person in the ENTIRE SCHOOL to find her annoying antics as “cute and endearing”

Married to The Rules | Yandere Twisted Wonderland

Rules provide an understandable and legible guide in life–hence your devotion to any new ones that are presented to you. Too bad not everyone admires rules like you do and they often misconstrue your actions and behavior to be malicious. Your real friends will be willing to see past that and violently compete for your heart:

Riddle Rosehearts

“It seems you too are passionate about rules…I admire that.”

Both of you sharing this admiration of rules and order helps you bond in other ways

And in turn fuels the possessive fire that Riddle is learning to manage terribly

While he accepts and shares his findings about going against the rules he begins dealing with a double standard

Having the thoughts of actually beheading anyone who stops you from arriving precisely ten minutes before class begins

Or if they come to you to brush up on some rules

Of course he’ll waive you of things if your leaning in that direction

Or he’ll secretly add new rules that are oddly specific to your situation

“This goes against rule 1,004!”

“1,004? But the book stops at 816!”

“You don’t have the updated version. Here I’ll fill you in. Come, we’ll discuss this over tarts and teas.”

[cuddles-with-dragons]

Fives: We need to distract these guys. Echo: Leave it to me. Echo: Centaurs have six limbs and are therefore insects. Discuss. Anakin & Rex: *immediately begin arguing*

Rex: What's gone wrong, Fives? Fives: Hey! That’s one hell of a thing to say to a person. Just because I’m calling doesn’t mean there’s a crisis. Rex: That’s technically true, I suppose. Why are you calling? Fives: Well... There’s a crisis.

Anakin: *sees someone doing something stupid* Anakin: What an idiot. Anakin: *realizes it's Ahsoka* Anakin: Wait, that's MY idiot!

Ahsoka: I hate to disagree with you, but- Anakin: Please, you love to disagree with me. Its your favorite thing to do.

Anakin: Wanna hear some dark humor. Rex: Yeah, I love dark humor. Anakin: Alright. Anakin: *Turns off the lights* Anakin: Knock knock. Rex: Turn the damn lights back on.

Rex: I left instructions for everyone while I'm gone. Fives: Mine just says "Fives no." Rex: I want you to apply it to every possible situation.

Police: You’re under arrest for trying to carry three people on a single speeder bike. Fives, with Echo and Rex behind them: Wait, what do you mean THREE?! Police: Yes…three. Fives: Oh, my God— What the fuck!? Police: Wha- Fives: Cody FUCKING FELL OFF!

Rex: Sometimes, I don’t realize an event was traumatic until I tell it as a funny story and notice everyone is staring at me weird.

Echo: Fives! Rex got that thing on the control panel working! Fives: Wow! That looks pretty impressive. Echo: Yeah! Fives: Any idea what it does? Echo: Not a clue.

Cody, answering his comm: Hello? Rex: It’s Rex. Cody: What did he do this time? Rex: No, it’s me, Rex. It’s actually me. Cody: What did you do this time?

Obi-Wan: Everyone, calm down! We're grown-ups, let's deal with this like adults! Anakin: So, we're just going to wing it and hope for the best? Obi-Wan: Obviously. Now, Ahsoka, pass the shovel.

Police Officer: You have the right to remain silent. Fives: I choose to waive that right! Fives: *screaming*

[goldsbitch]

Could we dance in the past?

part 2 to I gave so many signs

summary: First unrequited love is not the one to ever leave your mind. Y/N looks back at her missed connection with Charles Leclerc from the time they were just teenagers and regrets having him slip away.

song fic (disclaimer: rights belong to the respectable owners)

right where you left me - Taylor Swift Before love came to kill us - Jessie Reyes

warning: Present time, the past....alcohol and typos

Charles did all he could to appear normal and not give away that he was shaking on the inside. He was used to masking his true feelings, can't let other drivers know you're nervous, ever. Years of training and overused trick with digging his nails to his palm paid back. His latest girlfriend didn't seem to notice.

Life's good and I'm gettin' paid, mm But I think about you everyday, oh no (still) When I miss you I medicate (pour up drink, drink)

They went home earlier than planned, but Charles could not spend another minute locked up in the same space as Y/N without acting out or worse - getting up to talk to her. It was surprising that his lame excuse worked and hadn't caused any alarms with his girlfriend. He tried his best to look chill, laughed at the jokes he would have, listened attentively, contributed to the conversation, kissed his so called love on the cheek and took her home, where he made her feel good, as he normally would. Only once she fell asleep, only when he was really sure of that, he allowed his mind to roam free. He had to get up and leave the bed their currently shared. If he had been a smoker, this would be the moment to drag out half of pack. In the end, he opted for a glass of his favorite drink, or at least something that would resemble that. As he sipped his faux Moscow mule, he cursed the day Y/N showed him this drink.

For a moment at least I know You were mine and it was beautiful

"Ok, ok, listen, listen Charles," Y/N insisted, waiving her drunker finger around with a drunken sassy demeanor. "Yes, mon chéri," he replied, so alcohol flowing through his system one could be surprised he was still lucid. "I absolutely hate this...this thing," she pointed to the contents of her glass. "Oh, come on! You can't leave me alone in this celebration!" he moaned like a little baby. It was right after one of his biggest achievements in racing yet, but he was just too young to celebrate publicly, so there they were, two teenagers discovering the limits of alcohol in Y/N's empty apartment. Charles was over the moon when he found out that her parents were out of town, already being high on the post race hormones. Sometimes the starts just align. "I'm not going to leave you alone, you're stuck with me. But! We have to stop pretending like this tastes good," she nearly threw her fancy glass containing her dad's whiskey. "I mean, it is absolutely horrible," Charles admitted and made Y/N laugh. One of his favorite things. He got closer to her, one narrow kitchen counter parting them. "So what will we do?" "Let's get creative," she exclaimed and started to google around and sent Charles over to the fridge for a variety of ingredients that did not go together in any situation. "We need to find our signature drink. I want to walk over somewhere one day and be like...one martini, dry," she played a parody of her older self. "Yeah, you're right. Because the whiskey is definitely not it," he agreed and spit the rest of his out. "That's like few hundred euros you spit there, buddy," she whispered. Charles's eyes went wide and immediately started to apologize and offering to pay back. He was not amused when she laughed at him and brought it up when he went to the toilet, saying that he did not have to pay for the toilet paper. When he came back from the bathroom, he managed to bump right into Y/N, who though that the best thing to do was to jump at him from a corner. This resulted in her spilling her Moscow mule on both of them. Charles found it funny at first and took it as a great opportunity to take his shirt off, with a little hope that it might actually impress her a bit. He had worked out a lot lately. This had totally backfired the minute he noticed that Y/N was also soaking wet. He had already noticed earlier that she was not wearing a bra and tried not to imagine what she would have looked like without her loose t-shirt. His imagination could have gone on vacation now, her nipples were poking through and the t-shirt hugged the shape of her breasts tightly. Once again, as he had been times before with this girl, he was speechless and frozen. The internal battle being that he wanted to be as respectful as one could be, but his dreams were also becoming real right before his teenage eyes. She seemed to be drunk enough not to take care. He peaked several times and cursed himself when he heard the diplomatic words coming out of his mouth, informing Y/N of her situation. She thanked him dearly and covered herself by wearing his hoodie. This image made Charles's situation ten times worse, especially when he saw the little blush on her cheek. For a moment he imagined that she was his and only his. Took him two years before he washed that hoodie again.

But I wanna hold ya Like it's June in the west end Back when you were my best friend Before love came to kill us

It was always hard, seeing Y/N. He thought with time and age it would get easier, but all those talks about talk about time healing wounds did not align with his experience. He somehow got over it, had several girlfriends after her and discovered he really was the relationship type. But she just shined in colors brighter than anyone else. They understood each other. Charles was aware of that when he was young, but underestimated the rarity of that kind of a connection. Years had passed - and it didn't seem to matter.

Trends change, rumors fly through new skies But I'm right where you left me

He loved his girlfriend. He must have. The note was there simply in case she woke up when he was on his fake midnight jog. Occasional midnight run was something he did from time to time, so it was not suspicious. To sell it properly, just in case, he put on his running shoes and a hoodie. Strangely similar one to the one he gave Y/N that one Moscow mule night.

She must have stopped going to their usual café spot. It had been weeks since they talked, Charles took the events that happened at her prom to heart and decided that it was time for him to get over his best friend. He was sure you'd be friends again, sooner rather than later, but he needed some time to process. Or at least he thought, this was all very new to him, nobody to talk to about it and nowhere to get some decent advice. But that was what all the songs he blasted for hours on end seemed to agree on, so he tried that. No contact. He caught himself taking the roads that lead pass the spots he knew you might be, whenever he was back home. His body playing tricks on him. He always peaked into the café window - what if... After sometime, the realization that Y/N had stopped coming there hit him hard. Suddenly, the possibility of you two never talking again started to look a little too realistic. No word from her, which was odd. She would always be the one to bombard Charles no matter how bad it got.

Help, I'm still at the restaurant Still sitting in a corner I haunt Cross-legged in the dim light They say, "What a sad sight"

And with days adding up to their friendship hiatus, he started to literally occupy that café, way more that when the pair hung out there together. There were only two waiters there changing their shifts back and forth. What Charles didn't know was that they put a bet on how long it would take for the girl that used to accompany the young man, whom they'd known by his name at that point, to come back with him one day. Young love, they used to reminisce of their own first heartbreak whenever he left the door.

They expected me to find somewhere Some perspective, but I sat and stared Right where you left me

He imagined this is what it felt like to have an heart attack. She finally sent him a message. And with that one text, he threw away all the work he tried to accomplish by keeping his distance and ended up right back where he started. Madly in love.

It's gettin' late And I should go

He knew he shouldn't have. Was old enough to know better this time. Understood that it was all super toxic for him and that he was in a much better place now. Oh, and then there was the fact that he had a girl back in his apartment. And it wasn't Y/N. But still, he casually jogged right back to the bar they'd left not even two hours ago. Surely, she'd be gone by now. He'd just check it out, have one last Moscow mule of the night and call it a day. That would have worked just fine. Hadn't it been for Y/N, standing alone in front of the bar entrance. Charles saw her getting shocked the moment she noticed him and dropping her cigarette. He slowed down and stared back at her. As if to make clear that him being here was not an accident this time. And also to finally look at her gorgeous, now adult, face without having to hide it.

So under the mask of the moon Could we dance in the past? Before love Before love came to kill us

part 3

[starstruckmiraclekitty]

I've had a bit of brainrot today and have to share so I can get it out of my head (maybe) so feel free to ignore lol I've been thinking of 141 having a civilian spouse (separately, just in case there was confusion) that only ever refers to them by their call sign/rank during an emergency situation. Using it just immediately sets off sirens and they see red. - 🐍

Yesss. Got a bit carried away with this one, lol. Only did 141 specifically, lmk if you'd like to see anyone else! Also tried my best to make this GN!😊

141 With Reader Who Uses Their Callsign in Emergency Situation

Warnings: mentions of guns, violence, unwanted advances/touching, stalking, swearing, injury, crying--- I promise it has a good ending😅

Simon Ghost Riley-

"Golly, aren't you a fine looking thing." You heard a voice say behind you, as you were standing at the bar getting you and Simon another drink. Simon had just gone to the bathroom, so you knew you were on your own for this.

You turned around and were met with a man double your size, a sickening smile making its way on his face.

"Oh, thank you." You mustered a small smile before turning back to the bar, praying the man would take the hint and leave you alone.

"No, I mean it. I could take that little ass of yours home right now." The man came closer, and you could just start to feel his breath on your neck, making you cringe.

"I have a boyfriend, I'm sorry." You tried softly. You were desperate at this point, your eyes searching for Simon.

"I don't see him anywhere." The man smiled, his teeth were yellow, and his breath reeked of cheap booze.

"He just went to the restroom." You mumbled.

You felt a hand grope your ass slightly, squeezing at the flesh there. "Mmhmm, if I were your boyfriend, I'd never leave you unattended like this."

You cried out, moving to swat the guys hand away, to no avail. Nobody around you seemed to notice your predicament, and you were starting to grow scared.

The man pushed you up against the counter, his hand now gripping your waist. "Be a good little pet and come with me, okay?"

You struggled against his hold and screamed out, "Ghost!"

Simon, who had just exited the restroom, heard the wail and immediately started to run to you. What he saw had him seeing red.

He forced himself between you and the man and grabbed his hand roughly. "Who the fuck do you think you are touching them."

The man looked as if he was about to piss himself, as Simon was nearly a half foot taller and twice as bulky. "Sorry, man, they acted like they wanted it."

Simon seethed and twisted the man's wrist with such force that you swore you heard bones cracking. "Get. The. Fuck. Out. Of. Here. Before I decide to do something that'll end with me in jail."

The man let out a small whimper, grabbed his now bruised hand and ran for the door.

Simon watched as he fled, then turned his attention to you, his eyes softening. "Y/N? Sweetheart, are you okay?"

Your eyes filled with tears as you threw yourself into Simon's chest. "Thank you, Si."

"You don't have to thank me. That's what I'm here for, yeah? Why won't we go home, I'll draw you a bath." He pulled away and cupped your cheeks, carefully pressing a soft kiss to your temple.

You nodded your head slowly and let Simon lead you out of the bar, not expecting him to crouch down on the ground once you made it outside. "Si?"

"Cmon, get on my back. Long way to the car." He gestured to his back and helped you on it, holding your legs tightly as he walked you to his car. He'd be damned if he ever let anything like that happen again to his person.

Kyle Gaz Garrick-

You were walking around your local department store one afternoon with Kyle, looking to find him some new dress shirts. The two of you had a friends wedding to attend that weekend, and Kyle didn't have many outfits to pick from.

"What about this one?" You picked out a light blue stripped dress shirt, holding it up for Kyle to see.

"I'll look like a grandpa with that one, babe." He joked, waiving away the shirt.

"You'd be a hot grandpa." You countered, putting the shirt back.

"Oh hush. I gotta run to the restroom, I'll be right back." He chuckled as he gave your arm a squeeze. You watched him walk away with a small smile before returning to the racks in front of you.

Unbeknownst to you, there was a gentleman who'd been following you and Kyle around the store for some time now, and now that Kyle was gone, it was the perfect opportunity to strike.

You were just rounding the next row of racks when the man came up behind you and started to pull on your purse. You cried out, trying to pull back, but the man was too strong. He yanked with one mighty tug, ripping the purse from your arm, and shoved you backward, sending you toppling into the racks behind you.

"GAZ!" You screamed, as the man stared at you, frozen, before turning the other way and running.

Kyle was walking toward you when he heard you scream, and his blood ran cold. He immediately sprinted in your direction, running right into the man with your purse. The man fell backward, and Kyle looked down to see him clutching your purse.

He put his foot on the man's stomach and pushed down hard. "Give me the fucking purse, asshole."

The man refused and tightened his grip on your bag. Kyle saw red and promptly punched the man square in the jaw, knocking him out cold. He grabbed your purse as a few workers finally came to check on the commotion.

Kyle looked to see you clutching your head in pain. He ran over to you, sliding to a crouch position once he got to you. "Baby! Are you okay?"

Your bottom lip trembled as a strangled cry escaped your throat, and Kyle grabbed you, pulling you to his chest. He had to talk himself down from going and giving the man another few punches.

He tucked his arm underneath your legs and lifted you up bridal style. "I'm so sorry, babe. I've got you. Let's go home. Yeah?"

Kyle spent the rest of the night watching over you and icing the bruise that formed on your head. He made a silent vow that day, that he'd beat the ever loving shit out of anyone who dared touch his baby again.

John Price-

BANG!

You looked up from your computer in your home office at the sound of the loud noise. It was late at night, and John was asleep, so you were concerned as to what caused the sound. You grabbed the pocket knife out of your drawer and made your way quietly to investigate.

Peeking your head around the doorway, you saw a large man making his way through your shared home with your husband. It appeared he'd somehow broken in through the front door.

You let out a small whimper, the confidence you had before now fading. John was fast asleep upstairs, and you had no way to get to him without revealing yourself.

You watched silently as the man started to rummage in your drawers, trying to find anything valuable he could take.

He started to draw closer to where you were, and as you slowly crept backward, the floorboards creaked underneath you.

The man was immediately notified of your presence and caught a glimpse of you as you tried to hide around the corner.

"Hey! You!" He shouted, immediately running toward you.

You sprinted in the other direction, narrowly missing his outstretched hand. You ran into the bathroom in the hallway and tried to close the door before a hand came out to stop it.

"Nowhere to run now." He said, a terrifying smile lining his face.

"PRICE!" You screeched, your heart beating rapidly.

John's eyes flew open at the sound of your terrified cry. With adrenaline coarsing through his veins, he flung himself out of bed and grabbed his handgun from his bedside table. He slowly crept down the stairs and took in his surroundings.

He saw you right away, crouched in terror before a man, who had you at gunpoint. John swiftly made his way behind the man before hitting him hard on the back of his head with the butt of his gun.

The man fell limply to the floor, and you let out a strangled sob. "John."

"Hey love, it's alright. I'm here." He approached you slowly, his hands raised up to show you he meant no harm. You held your arms out to him, and he pulled you into him, holding you tight. "I've got you. Nobody's going to hurt you."

He pulled away for just a moment to call the cops but held a grip firm on your waist, letting you know he wasn't ever going to let anything happen to you.

Johnny Soap MacTavish-

"Alright, babe, I'll run and grab the stuff at the bottom half of the list. You grab top?" Johnny asked, eyeing your fairly large grocery list.

"Sounds good, thanks, love." You smiled at him and tore the list in half, sending him on his way after a quick peck.

You watched as he strolled away, basket in hand, and made for the toiletry section of the store.

You were comparing toothpastes when you felt two men staring at you. You subtly turned your head in their direction, and they quickly looked anywhere but your direction.

You felt a slight sinking feeling in your belly and quickly threw one of the toothpastes in your cart. You made for the next aisle, looking around deoderant for you and Johnny, when the same two men appeared again, walking slowly down the aisle toward you.

Trying to brush off the occurrence as a coincidence, you threw what you needed in the cart and started to make your way to the shampoo aisle. Your resolve quickly crumbled when you now realized the men were following you.

The store was rather empty, so there was nobody close by for you to turn to. You sped your cart up and headed in the direction you thought Johnny might be. The men were hot on your tail, making it clear they were trying to get to you.

You felt one of their hands touch your back, and you let out a cry. "SOAP!"

Johnny was just finishing up his portion of the list when he heard your scream. His heart was beating rapidly as he dropped the basket and ran to you.

"Y/N?" He called out and was met with a horrifying sight. You were cornered in one of the aisles by two men and were crying, your hands up in a defensive motion as you crouched on the floor.

Johnny immediately approached. "Leave my partner the fuck alone."

The two men whipped their heads in his direction, rubbing their hands together. It was clear they were looking for a fight. Johnny lifted his shirt slightly, revealing his sidearm strapped to his waist. "Try it, I fucking dare you. You won't like the outcome."

The men clearly knew better than to create such a scene in a store and decided to flee.

Johnny watched as they ran and crouched down to your level. "Baby. Are you okay?"

You choked out a sob and wrapped your arms around your husband. "I was so scared, Johnny."

Johnny gritted his teeth in anger, he hated that anyone made you feel this way. It took everything in him not to go chasing after those bastards.

"I know, baby. I'm here now, though. Why don't we quickly finish up this trip and grab some takeout, yeah? I'm not really feeling up to cooking anymore." He pulled your face away gently and stroked your tears away. "I've got you, always, okay?"

You nod slowly and let him help you up. He grabbed your hand, lacing his fingers with yours, not letting go until you both reached the car.