#it really did make me smile a bit even despite all the pain i feel

[espers-n-espurrs]

OFFSCREEN POST

Olive Branch

TWs // CWs : Hospitals, Discussions of Child Death, Discussions of Kidnapping / Child Abduction, Panic Attacks, Violence, Injury, Gore, Blood

Connected to Connecting Roots and Uprooted.

No one liked being in the hospital. 

It was mind-numbing and draining, having to stay in one little room for days on end all the while doctors and nurses poked and prodded at you. It wasn’t just the medical staff that had been bothering Esper though. Police and other official looking people came and went, asking her questions that made her uncomfortable and forced her to reevaluate so much about what she knew. She didn’t like it. She didn’t like being told she was “safe now”, she didn’t like being told she was “in good hands”, she didn’t like how they talked about her da and mum, she didn’t like any of it. 

Esper stared up at the ceiling with an unfocused gaze, listening to the ticking of the clock. Her face almost seemed ghostly pale if not for her reddened cheeks and nose from hours of crying accompanied by the deep bags beneath her eyes from lack of sleep. Her hair was out of its braid, white threads spooled around her in messy strands like the roots of a tree, branching off into different paths. She looked like a mess.

Everything was out of her hands. She didn’t get a choice in any of this. Her entire life had changed in a matter of days and she wasn’t sure how she was meant to feel. Her da and mum had lied to her. They had been lying to her for so long. And yet she couldn’t even begin to understand how she felt about it all. Was she angry? Sad? Happy?

A small knock on the door cut through her thoughts.

Esper’s head slowly turned toward the door, her brows furrowing slightly in aggravation. It was probably more pushy cops coming to ask her about her da. Fucking wonderful.

With a roll of her eyes she called out to them, “Come in.”

The door creaked open slightly to reveal an exhausted-looking Victoria. Despite her attempts to appear composed, the stress lines and dark circles beneath her eyes betrayed any semblance of imperturbability. Clearly, the recent revelations had been taking as much of an emotional toll on her as they had on Esper.

Esper gasped as she snapped into a sitting position, “Tor–!” She was swiftly cut off as a sharp pain shot through her chest, causing her to double over in the bed, her arms wrapping tightly around her torso as she let out a hiss of pain. “I… I shouldn’t have done that…”

Victoria instinctively lunged forwards and reached a hand out to her, but slowed herself the moment she realized Esper was not immediately dying in front of her. “Are…” She began to ask something, but trailed off with a pause before saying, “I was going to ask if you were alright, but I suppose that would be a bit redundant of me, now would it?”

The white haired girl slowly sat back up, wincing as she let out a small laugh, “Just– Just a bit, I think.” Esper looked at Victoria with a small smile, “Though I’m not the most happy about people seeing me in such a state… with my hair being down and all.”

“Oh. I can leave if you—”

“I’m joking, Tori.”

To Esper’s surprise, Victoria chuckled with a slight smile. “I thought you were—” She instantly shut her mouth right before the punchline, her face falling into a frown. She looked at her friend with an unsure tilt of her head.

“Esper.” The girl stated without hesitation, “I want to be called Esper. Or, as you have been calling me, Esp.”

“Right.” The young heiress drew in a quiet breath and nodded. “Then… Esp it shall be.”

Esper smiled in turn. She wasn’t ready to be Estelle, she didn’t know if she ever could be. It was strange really, finding out that your name isn’t your name, at least not in the way you thought it was. But she could understand why her da did it, at least from his point of view, it would’ve made everything easier for him if she didn’t have her legal name. 

Though that did make her wonder…

“Why the hells didn’t my da change my brother's first name?” Esper suddenly asked aloud, tilting her head to the ceiling in thought, “Why’d he keep his first name?”

Victoria shifted uncomfortably on her feet, uncertain of how to respond. 

Esper continued, “And it’s not like I can fuckin’ ask him since he fuckin’ vanished after the second Darkest Day…”

“Vanished…?”

Esper blinked in response, turning her attention back to Victoria before glancing away with an awkward chuckle as if it was funny, “Ah– Yeah. I was the last one to see him that day, he found me during the chaos and promised to go get help. He… uh… never did. No one’s found him so we don’t know what happened to him.”

The other girl’s brows furrowed. “Forgive me for asking, but how are you so certain that he never sought help?”

“Oh, I didn’t mean like he didn’t try–” Esper vaguely gestured with her hand, “It’s just that my da and authorities were the ones to find me and Juno. And they hadn’t been told by Flynn that we were there, so they tried to interview anyone they could and no one stepped forward about having been spoken to by Flynn during the disaster. So, he may have tried, though he never actually managed to get help.”

She tilted her head. “Juno?”

“I– I should just give the rundown.” Esper responded, shifting in her bed to get more comfortable before continuing on, “So. Juno was my closest friend in Spikemuth and we spent a lot of time together. On the day of the big championship match, he was over at my old flat. It was just him, me, his Nickit named Polaris, and my da’s Obstagoon named Maverick. We were having a good time until, well, the second Darkest Day started in which Maverick… was one of the Pokemon to dynamax.”

Victoria winced slightly. “In… the house?”

“In the flat building… yeah.” The girl nodded as she began to fidget with her gown, “With both me, Juno, and his Nickit in the flat with him. And so many others in their neighboring flats…” 

She thought back to that day. Roars and calls of Pokemon shook the earth around her, echoing throughout Spikemuth and the surrounding area. The weight of concrete and brick crushed her body so tightly that she could barely fill her lungs with the dust-filled air. Metal debris pricked at her skin, jabbing at her sides and mudding her hair with crimson. She couldn’t move, she could barely cry out as all her energy was dedicated to keeping her alive and awake.

If only Juno could’ve been as lucky. 

He was alive for a while, whispering promises of life and safety to Esper in the darkness of their prison, though his body laid frighteningly still as crimson slowly pooled around him. His mind and body grew weaker by the second. He had been impaled when the building collapsed on top of them— a large, jagged piece of rusted metal had been lodged straight through his shoulder and into the debris below. Polaris was curled up to his side, beaten and battered as much as the two children, chirping and crying to his trainer. 

She remembered the way Juno’s eyes grew duller by the hour. Until they were cloudy and lifeless.

Victoria looked past the girl before her with a thousand-yard stare. The ticking second hand on the clock came to a stop, filling the room with a discomforting silence.

“We were trapped for nearly the whole day– But Flynn found us early on. He promised to go get help and… well… he never came back.” Esper let out a shaky breath, her face feeling hot, “And by the time help did arrive… Juno had been dead for several hours.”

The other girl shut her eyes and turned her head away, reaching a trembling hand to her chest. “Excuse me for a moment, Esper.” She took several deep breaths until her hands stopped shaking and the stress lifted from her face. The clock resumed its ticking, returning the familiar ambiance to the once silent room. 

After a moment, Victoria cleared her throat with a wince and gestured to her head. “Um— Mind-reading.”

Esper blinked before flushing red, waving her hands frantically, “Ah– I’m sorry– I forgot– I’m sorry I’ll just stop now I’m sorry–” The girl promptly tried to fill her mind with other things such as memories of Fauna and Deerling.

“No, no, it is through no fault of your own,” Victoria tried to reason with her. “It simply caught me off-guard is all.”

“Are you sure…?” Esper looked up at her with big eyes.

“Positive. You needn’t apologize, Esp.”

“Okay…” The girl nodded in return, “I was done anyways though. That’s about everything… Well not… everything… but all the really important things.”

“I see,” she said, finally turning to look back at her friend. “If I may be so bold to ask, do you… think Flynn is…?”

“Alive? Dead?” Esper hesitantly shrugged, “I don’t know. I don’t know which I would rather, which would hurt less… If Flynn is dead then… he’s gone. But if he’s alive… then he left me to die.”

Before Victoria had time to respond, there was a knock at the door.

The girl raised an eyebrow, then looked to Esper. “Are you expecting company?”

Esper huffed in response, grimacing at the door, “No. It’s probably another officer or doctor or something. Let me just–” She raised her chin to the door and called out, “Come in!”

The door slowly opened to reveal a lanky man in a black and green jacket, his hood pulled tightly over his head and casting his face in shadow. His attire was worn and dirty and his demeanor seemed akin to a kicked dog with how he hunched in on himself and how his hands trembled at his sides. He hesitantly stepped into the room, closing the door behind him before turning in the direction of the two girls in an awkward fashion. 

Esper and Victoria exchanged glances for a moment, then eyed the man wearily.

The man stood there silently for a minute, staring at Esper specifically for an agonizingly long before clearing his throat, “So– Um–”

At that moment, a flash of recognition and utter hatred crossed Victoria’s face. An invisible force suddenly yanked the man towards the girl while she winded up her fist and connected it directly into the center of his face. The force of her punch snapped his glasses in half and knocked the hood off of his head.

Flynn Wyrmwood was knocked to the ground, clutching his nose in pain.

With a snarl, Victoria looked down at the man and hissed, “Hablando del rey de Roma, por la puerta asoma.” She raised her leg to stomp—

“VICTORIA–” Esper shouted. “DO NOT… stomp… on….” Her voice trailed off as she looked down at the older boy. A boy with darker skin than hers and yet had the same pure white hair and lavender eyes with white pupils shining brightly. Esper repeated, her heart leaping into her throat as she took in the sight of the boy, “Victoria. Stop.”

The young heiress looked back towards her friend, then to the coward at her feet. She narrowed her eyes at him, but gently lowered her foot to the floor and stepped away. “Get up,” she spat at him. A sudden force lifted him off the ground and flipped him onto his feet— not too kindly, however. The momentum from the flip threw him forwards and he bashed his face into the side of the hospital bed. 

Flynn grunted in pain, barely managing to catch his footing before slowly dragging himself into a standing position, blood dripping from his nose. “Yeah– Yeah no– I deserved that–”

“Indeed you do,” Victoria cut him off.

“Victoria. Stop harming him.” Esper scolded before turning her attention to the bloodied boy infront of her, her eyes scanning his face. It was him. It was actually him. He was alive. He… he was alive. 

That hurt.

“Esper…” Flynn stared back at her, seemingly also studying her. A ragged breath left him as he spoke, “You’re alive.”

“You left me.”

“I know. I’m sorry–”

Esper cut him off, her chest tightening, “You left me to die. You left Juno and I to die.”

“I’m sor–”

“Juno is dead!” Esper spat. Tears had begun to well up in her eyes, “And you’re alive.”

Victoria glared silent daggers at Flynn. If looks could kill, he’d have perished where he stood.

He paused, opening his mouth to speak before closing it again and looking down in shame, “I’m sorry…”

The white-haired girl stared at her brother in silence for a while. The ticking of the clock was the only indication that time hadn’t stopped. 

“Why now?”

Her brother looked up at her, blinking.

“You had plenty of chances to come back. And yet you didn’t.” Esper asked, her body aching as emotions welled up inside her.

Flynn glanced away, “I… I was scared. I am scared. Father scared me, I was scared if I came back or told anyone then…”

“You knew.”

“I…” He winced, “I did. Yes.”

“You knew the entire time.” Esper’s gaze was hundreds of miles away, “That’s why he didn’t change your name.”

Flynn only nodded in response.

The white-haired girl gripped her blanket between her hands. Her thoughts became foggy with all the questions she wanted to ask him, but one stayed at the forefront of her mind.

“Why are you here?” She asked. “Da is gone now, you could no longer be a missing person.”

Flynn took a deep breath and looked his sister in the eye, “I… I wanted to give you the choice on if I did or not…”

“What?”

“I hurt you, Esper,” her older brother swallowed, “I hurt you a lot. I didn’t want to suddenly come stomping all over it again. So I wanted to give you that choice.” He wiped the blood from his nose as he knelt down by her bedside, “Do I come back home or do I go back to whatever hole I crawled out of?”

Victoria furrowed her brows and wrinkled her nose at him.

“I…” Esper trailed off, staring down at her brother with teary eyes. Why was she being asked to choose? Why did she have to make that choice? Why was this the only choice she’s been allowed during this whole fiasco? Why this of all things? She hadn’t seen her brother in nearly two years, she had thought he was dead somewhere, possibly eaten by some Pokemon or the like. But… here he was. Asking her to make a life-altering choice for him.

She felt sick.

“I…” The girl blinked, tears running down her face before she sharply turned away from her brother. As she spoke her voice seemed almost devoid of emotion. Almost. “Stop being missing... Come out of hiding… You…” She glared at him from the corner of her eye, “You don’t get to run from this.”

Her brother gave a small smile. Tears began to run down his face, dripping onto his now bloodstained jacket. “I won’t. I promise.”

Scene End.

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

Victoria belongs to @victoria-vd

[sleep-nurse]

Willow art for your troubles 🫂🫂🫂

i don't have the words right now but i've been staring at this in my inbox for a while because it makes me so happy

[xiaoriae]

TERMS OF ENDEARMENT.

pairing. neuvillette & wriothesley x gn!reader (separate) ★ genre. established relationship au & fluff. ★ wc. 1.2k

synopsis. calling out the fontaine men by their pet names!

contents. pet names (reader's: dear, darling, etc.), lovestruck neuvillette :( , may contain an inaccurate description of the melusine's tail bcs i'm dumb, a really minimal spoiler from the 4.0 archon quest (regarding hydro dragon and rain) in neuvillette's, mention of sedene (the melusine outside neuvie's office), neuvillette just wants his kith >:( , wriothesley might be ooc bcs we all love him despite not knowing him yet, mentions of sigewinne in wrio's, made-up [1] fontaine law and background setting, and an assumption of sigewinne is the one who often treats wrio's injuries(?).

a/n. first, idk who to pull for; either neuvi or wrio bcs i alr have hydro and cryo dps :cries: but srsly, the v4.1 trailer has me on my knees for these two men (in a respectful manner of course).

support banner and animated line dividers by @/cafekitsune on tumblr.

ִ ࣪𖤐 𝐍𝐄𝐔𝐕𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄

neuvillete would never admit it out loud.

how you left him in awe every time he heard you calling out for his attention—monsieur neuvillette in a formal setting, but instead referring him as neuvie when in private.

something about it had always made neuvillette's chest just a little bit tightened at the way the name rolled off your tongue oh-so-eloquently, and he often found himself staring at your lips a second longer than what everyone would consider as appropriate.

oh, how he would love to peck your lips, feeling them against his, even for a brief moment.

it was an embarrassing thought sitting at the little corner of his mind. he was ashamed at how easily you had him on your mercy.

"neuvie," your voice came out a tad bit softer after seeing him spacing out—in which was totally not a norm to see him staring far ahead and at you, though not until recently.

"are you alright, love?"

he swore he felt his heart dropped. it was a double kill to him, who recently figured out that he loved you more than he initially thought he would. how endearing of you to call him with such names, it was cute. a perfect adjective to describe you.

"nothing, dear," his voice resonated through the room, and you realised how he looked at the perfect weather illuminating his office through the window.

you looked at him back, skeptical as to why the corner of his mouth seemed to form a fine curve, but you shrugged the feeling as soon as it came. maybe he was happy, considering the sunny and chilly weather outside.

and his feeling mattered to you the most.

"monsieur neuvillette," you called him out again.

this time, neuvillette could barely hide the frown that was about to form on his face. why did you call him that? why the sudden change of attitude? he was confused. especially when he felt the soft touches on his hair.

you were patting his head, occasionally fixing his hair as neuvillette slightly leaned in to feel the warmth only you could exude.

"it is about time for today's trial, chief justice. lady furina must have been waiting for you at the opera house," you gently reminded him, feeling the way his shoulders tensed.

oh—how stupid of him, he thought. he finally understood why you called him by his title, there was sedene all along at the door.

the melusine looked at both of you in amusement, he could tell by the way her tail was wagging.

"another minute, dear?" his voice was low enough, seemingly to avoid the melusine's attention as he sighed.

you beamed a small smile at him, making neuvillette felt ten times heavier to let go of you and go to the court. "no, neuvie," you rubbed soft circles at the back of his hand, and neuvillette fought the urge to intertwine his finger with yours.

he fought the urge to kiss you on your lips—his name sounded so precious coming out from you. it actually pained his heart at how irreplaceable you were in his life. 

"after the court session is over, we can cuddle all we want, yeah?" you pecked his cheek, and neuvillette thought he could die happily if this was the treatment he would get—a reward worth billions of mora if this was what you gave him from cherishing and loving you.

and he would love to hear and love you forever.

ִ ࣪𖤐 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐒𝐋𝐄𝐘

inside the fortress of meropide, the only person that could make wriothesley's burdens felt lighter was you, and only you. to see that you enjoyed your time being here—although the fortress was everything except fun and colours—and sometimes helped sigewinne with her infirmary stuff, he felt a part of him was proud at how kind and brave you were. 

wriothesley loved looking at you teasing and babying sigewinne. it was another trait that made him clicked with you so well—despite his profession and the countless dangers he might have brought along.

he remembered the first time you insisted to tag along with him to the infamous underwater prison. no one could enter and exit the fortress whenever they wanted, and you managed to prove him wrong. now that your reputation was well-known within the area, it seemed that the law on permitting outsiders to get into the fortress with thorough screening process didn't really seem to be applicable to you.

every garde recognised you. every staff and people and melusine alike—all had acknowledged you in their work space.

so when you introduced yourself as wriothesley's other half, it was understandable that your name made it in the headlines and became the monthly issue from the steambird.

'after all, the duke doesn't really seem to be the lover type, isn't he?'

"hi, handsome," you waved at wriothesley, who seemed to just finish with an interrogation session with one of the criminals. a stack of papers was in his grip.

his eyes widened at the way you called him with that word which often failed to not make his heart thumped against his chest.

"good evening, darling," he scoffed when he felt the way his voice almost cracked. the random terms of endearment you threw at him had always made his actions cut short and his words to be stuck in his throat. "what are you doing here? did i not say to go back home at 5? it is late."

"mhm," you hummed.

pointing at the clipboard in your right hand which wriothesley had realised was there all along, you explained yourself. "was running an errand for sigewinne. the poor nurse had some troubles so i lent a hand or two," you said while tapping wriothesley's shoulder thrice, feeling proud of yourself for contributing a cent around the fortress.

you then involuntarily fixed his tie, still giving him the proud smile you often wore.

wriothesley sent you a soft smile at that, contradicting the multitude of scars littered across his body.

of course his favourite person was the one who was kind enough to help sigewinne—it was as if you silently repaid sigewinne's past deeds of treating his injuries. how could anyone would not love you for that, he thought.

your heart swelled at the sight. your partner was quite soft at heart when he smiled, despite the roughness he portrayed.

you were staring at his face with those sparkles he never knew could exist in one's eyes. it was too much, but wriothesley thought he would just mentally appreciate the pure loving look you gave him.

"this will do. now my man looks dashing as always."

it took him exactly three seconds to understand what you meant. you were fixing his appearance, and he felt his face became a little bit warmer. my man, he unconsciously repeated the words in his mind.

if sigewinne saw the two of you being so lovey dovey in public—well, maybe both of you were done for.

"the gesture is very much appreciated, darling," he chuckled.

"you are very welcome, sir," you replied, mimicking the small chuckles he sent towards you.

"since both of us have already worked overtime, let us grab a bite?" you swung your arm around his, interlocking with the arm that often held you with such gentleness.

"alright," wriothesley gave in to your suggestion, long forgotten where he should be heading before crossing his path with you. "let us go on a date."

all rights reserved © xiaoriae 2023 strictly on tumblr only. any form of wrongdoings under the copyright law is strictly prohibited.

[ariestrxsh]

*˖ ݁𖥔.𓀏·:*¨༺ .♱.✮.♱. ༻¨*:·𓀏.𖥔 ݁ ˖*

⚠️ content warning: ⚠️ smut, use of handcuffs, use of butt plug, degradation, humiliation, rough blow job, first-time anal, dacryphilia, hair-pulling, double penetration, creampie, mean!roughdom!matt, mean!roughdom!chris

📝 author's note: 📝 this is part four of she thinks of me. 💖 here are parts one, two, and three. inspired by the fact that there's not enough dp in chratt fics. 🫦 there will not be any more parts to this

✍️ Summary: ✍️ Chris and Matt finally give you what you've been starving for - both of them at the same time.

*˖ ݁𖥔.𓀏·:*¨༺ .♱.✮.♱. ༻¨*:·𓀏.𖥔 ݁ ˖*

she thinks of me part four 💖

Matt drew me a bubble bath that night while I recovered from the intense session we'd just had, and he sat next to me on the ledge of the tub, caressing my cheek and looking in to my eyes.

The bath water was hot like the mug in my hands. Matt had made me a cup of chamomile lavender tea, and I sipped on it slowly while we sat in the candlelight.

"You know, there's one more toy I bought for you," he smiled at me. "What is it?" I asked, shifting around in my bath. This sparked my curiosity. What else could he possibly have bought? "You'll find out," he smirked at me. I glared at him while I held the mug up to my lips, taking another drink.

"You know, I love being in a relationship with you. I love the way you make me jealous and the way you keep me on my toes. I'd be bored if I were with anyone else," Matt told me under his breath while he brushed the back of his hand up against my face.

I was really happy to hear this, because until Matt and Chris had made this bet, there seemed to be a bit of passion lacking in the relationship, and it felt like this little arrangement we had going with Chris was breathing life back into our connection.

"I love you," I whispered, silently wondering what I did to deserve such an incredible man. "I love you, too," Matt responded warmly. "I can't get enough of you," I replied softly.

"Can't get enough of Chris either, huh?" He asked his voice saturated with lust. "It really turns you on, huh?" I questioned, biting my lip. Matt nodded.

"I mean, it's weird. At first, I was so jealous, but watching how good Chris made you feel.." Matt's voice trailed off. We could both feel the sexual tension in the air. It was strange how inviting Matt's brother into our sex life was bringing back the fervor into it, but we weren't going to question it.

He leaned in, and his lips enveloped mine into a deep kiss. Despite how tired I was and how many times I had finished earlier in the night, I felt myself full of desire again for both of them. "You're gonna love what Chris and I are going to do to you," Matt promised, and my mind swarmed with all the possibilities.

After my bath, I sat on the couch downstairs, completely naked, wrapped in a cozy blanket. Matt had told me not to even bother putting on clothes through his smirk before he'd gone to retrieve the last item he'd bought while he was out.

Matt and Chris reappeared in front of me a few minutes later. They were both in nothing but their boxers, and Matt was holding something behind his back. They both had shit-eating grins on their faces. "Why don't you bend over, sweetheart?" Chris cooed gently.

I shimmied out of the blanket and did what  Chris told me to do, laying my head on the armrest of the couch and sticking my backend up in the air. The anticipation was getting to me, desperately needing to know what they were going to do to me.

I heard the sound of the handcuffs from earlier, and I grew ever more excited as Matt grabbed both my wrists, pinned them behind my back, and clicked the restraints shut around them "This is gonna hurt for a minute, darling but I promise we're gonna make you feel so good," Matt promised, and I heard the sound of a lube bottle opening.

All of a sudden, I felt a lubed up pair of fingers teasing my hole - but not the one I was used to. I let out a pained sound while Matt poked and prodded around, beginning to stretch out my backdoor for the first time.

I'd expressed to Matt my curiosity about anal before, and he certainly never seemed opposed to it, but I didn't know it would be happening now and in front of Chris. A part of me was humiliated to have Matt exploring such a taboo part of my body, especially in front of his brother. The other part of me was dreaming about having both my holes filled at the same time by each of them.

Once I got used to Matt's fingers, I felt the tip of what felt like a butt plug lining up with my back entrance. He slowly started working it into my tight hole, and I let out a few sobs. "Shhh, it's almost all the way in, princess," Matt hushed me.

Finally, I could feel the toy all the way inside me, and I started to get a bit used to it. "Such a good girl for us," Chris whispered, coming around to the other side of the couch until he was in front of me. He grabbed ahold of my hair and yanked my head up so that my big eyes were locked on him.

I admired his body, how angelic he looked towering over me, and the way I could perfectly see the outline of his cock through his underwear. I could tell where this was going.

I heard the sounds of them both removing the last bit of their clothing, and my stomach did turns and flips as I felt Matt's tip brushing up against my sore cunt while the butt plug stayed in place.

Chris held his dick in his hand and gently pressed it up against my bruised lips, silently asking to be let in. I let him sink into my mouth while Matt sunk into my pussy, and the sensation of my new toy elevated the whole experience.

They both began thrusting in and out of my different holes, filling the room with their harmonic moaning. "Such a fucking slut. This is your dream, isn't it? Being used by us both at the same time?" Matt growled from behind me, and his words made me weak, but I couldn't answer him with his brother's cock stuffed into my drooling mouth.

I looked up at Chris, who was staring intently down at the way he disappeared behind my lips every time he'd rock his hips forward. The expression on his face gave away how much he was enjoying himself - his jaw was tensed, his lips barely parted, his blue eyes filled with need, and his eyebrows pulled together in a way that might have looked like concern or anguish in any other context.

I loved that Chris looked like that because of me. I loved the grunts that would escape his gorgeous, pouty, pink lips while he relaxed into his sexual desire. All while admiring how handsome Chris looked while I sucked him off, I could feel Matt's strong thrusts from behind, jerking me forward to take more of his brother's cock into my mouth.

"Fucking whore. Choke on it," Chris urgently whimpered while I started to gag on his length. His hands wandered into my hair, holding my head still so he could face fuck me again, but before he could get too carried away, Matt pulled himself out of me, and he removed my plug as well. "I want you to ride Chris' cock, sweetheart," Matt requested with his voice full of desire and lust.

Before I knew it, Chris was beneath me, my wrists still cuffed behind my back while I rode him, his hands tightly gripping my waist.

I thought I heard the sound of Matt opening the lube bottle again, but I figured I was imagining things until he said, "Stay still, you little slut," and I stopped bouncing up and down on Chris' length for a moment.

Then I felt it - Matt's tip brushing against my other hole. I sharply inhaled and let out a cry as he slowly pushed it in. The pain at first was excruciating, but Chris caressed my face, wiped away the tears that started to roll down my cheek, and hushed me as Matt entered me further.

"Take it all for me, baby. I know you can," Matt cooed. He took his time, allowing me to get used to him before sliding in another inch. The sensation was insanely powerful, the feeling of two men in my different holes, and not just any two men, but my incredibly hot boyfriend and his incredibly hot brother.

It felt like it took ages to acclimate to Matt's girth filling me from behind, but once it started feeling good, it was impossible to contain my satisfaction. My eyes rolled back, and my whines filled the atmosphere. They both moved together in unison, bucking their hips at the same fast and powerful pace, sending waves of pleasure through my whole body.

"You love getting fucked in the ass, don't you?" Matt grunted in a low voice, gripping your hips. "She loves it. She's our little cock slut," Chris whimpered.

"Love using all your holes, naughty girl," Matt breathed. "Poor girl. So dumb for our cocks, she can't even speak," Chris relayed in a faux sympathetic tone. Their hand placement, the way they spoke to me and about me, and their animalistic ways of fucking was enough to have me reaching the point of no return.

I started to tremble and loudly moan both of their names. My orgasm ripped me with incredible power like a force that couldn't be stopped. I felt myself clench around each of them while I rode out the rest of my climax.

They laughed at my desperation and high-fived each other as my pleasure washed over me. My legs grew weak as I struggled to hold myself up, but Matt and Chris steadied me on their cocks with their glorious hands running all over my body.

They both continued pounding away, chasing their own sexual satisfaction, but what they didn't know was how expertly they were hitting all my favorite spots over and over, and how I couldn't take it for another moment.

A second orgasmic feeling cascaded over me, the knot in my stomach coming unraveled and releasing all my pent up energy back into the air around us. The two boys penetrated my five senses, my thoughts, and all of my orificies.

In unison, both Matt and Chris started pumping each of my holes full with warm spurts of their white, sticky substances while they each called out my name. I could feel each of their dicks pulsing inside of me while they finished, loving every second of being filled by them each back-to-back.

And as they each pulled their cocks out of me, their cum started dripping out of me at both ends, and they both watched in awe at the messes they each made. "Look at that," Chris whispered, smiling at the sight before him.

"Fuck, naughty girl. I can't believe you let us both fill you up like that. Such a little whore for us," Matt smirked, releasing me from the handcuffs. "Thanks for letting me put it in your backdoor, princess. That was hot as fuck.."

taglist: @sturniolo-girl @munchingmini @butterbean-01 @coolasice01 @theyluvme-2315 @zariyam @brookiecookie-18 @maggot3647 @bsturnzmtt @slut4chriztopher @miss-delicious @strnlslvr @sleepysturniolo @schlutt4matty @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut @matts-myloverboy @mattsfavbigtitties @new2024cats4life @sofieeeeex @witchofthehour @slutforsturnioloss @ariithereyet @ribread03 @fratbrochrisgf @strnlxlqve @sturnzluv @gwennybenny @theeternaloptimistt @hearts4thetr1pl3ts @sturniolosweetheart33 @jollyblizzardtree @whoahoahoahoahoa @obsessionsarenotfortheweak @sturnsxbitvh @angelic-sturniolos111 @alizestvrnss @slxtformatt @stellasturnzz @2muchofaslvt @ilovechrissturniolosposts @sturnrc @smt-obsessed @sturnioloxlver @that1fangirll @aalirosesblog @hrtz4alex2211 @luvhsien @sturniolo-munch44 @sp3ncerslvt @jakewebberswifee

[fastandcarlos]

Knight In Shining Armour : ̗̀➛ Carlos Sainz

summary: you’re all for carlos protecting you, but the extent that carlos will go to do so even leaves you feeling slightly fearful of what he’s truly capable of

Your eyes went wide in horror as Carlos turned away from you, holding on tightly to his hand. Drops of blood were already hitting the floor as Carlos shielded himself from you momentarily, refusing to let you see just how much it hurt. You rushed over to him regardless, resting your hand against his back as you tried to hide the frustration that was on your face. 

“What were you thinking?” You scolded, head shaking in disbelief as Carlos smiled weakly back at you. 

He bit down on his bottom lip as he tried his best to mask the pain, “he gave me no choice, what was I supposed to do?” 

“Not hit him,” you shouted, throwing your arms up in the air. You went to speak again but you were interrupted by a member of Ferrari staff bringing across a medical kit to help you sort Carlos out. 

“He’s been flirting with you for weeks, I bet he probably doesn’t even work here,” Carlos tried to explain, “I can only stand back for so long.” 

You took a hold of Carlos’ hand, brushing your fingertips over it gently, “if that’s what he was doing, which I don’t think he was, this isn’t the answer to fixing it.” 

Carlos understood your frustration, but he was desperate to stand up for you and your relationship. His apologetic eyes watched as you wiped over the wound, making sure that it was clean, despite Carlos hissing in pain. 

“I appreciate that you care,” you softly spoke, breaking the slight tension between you both, “but you don’t always have to be my knight in shining armour.” 

Carlos glanced across at you, “I do, I’m your boyfriend.” 

“And look where that’s got you today,” you huffed, pointing back at his hand, “you’ll be lucky if you can still drive this weekend with this.” 

The realisation finally seemed to hit Carlos as he sunk back in his seat. “It would still be worth it, knowing that I was able to protect you.” 

You couldn’t help but feel guilty as Carlos seemed to throw away his career with his words, confidently assuring you that you were the priority. He really would do anything to keep you safe, no matter the cost. 

Carlos could tell you were worrying as you remained silent, “I’m fine, really.” 

You wanted to believe him, but you just couldn’t. As much as you adored Carlos, you were scared by how much he loved you and the extent to which he would go to protect you and keep you safe. 

“I don’t want to be the reason you hurt yourself,” you admitted, closing up the medical kit. Your voice was the softest it had been since Carlos took a swing, making him look back across at you. Your heart was racing as you spoke, unable to block out the fear as to what might have happened if Carlos wasn’t pulled away by members of the Ferrari garage. 

Carlos understood how you were feeling, his reaction had surprised himself too. It was a situation he never found himself in before, he’d never felt threatened, but when he did, instinct kicked in. It was almost as if he just saw red, trying his best to find the quickest thing to do in order to fix the situation. 

Only Carlos hadn’t quite fixed the situation, because now he had you beside him wondering where that side of your boyfriend even came from. 

You knew that Carlos had all good intentions, but knowing that he hit someone, for you especially, left a sour taste in his mouth. He was one of the golden boys of F1, charming, kind, considerate to everyone, but that persona that everyone loved seemed to disappear so quickly when trouble arose. 

After a few moments of silence, Carlos stood himself up from where he sat, soon realising that you had nothing left to say to him, deciding to give you a bit of space to think instead. 

It wasn’t quite the reaction that Carlos was expecting though. 

Whilst he didn’t imagine you throwing yourself into his arms, he had hoped you’d be a bit more understanding. He did it for you, even if it didn’t seem that way, a way that you certainly weren’t appreciative of right now. 

You found yourself back in Carlos’ drivers' room after taking a walk around the paddock, feeling as if everyone’s eyes were on you. You weren’t actively avoiding Carlos, but not bumping into him was a bit of a relief. 

The room was untouched from how you both had left it earlier in the day, random bits of merch were scattered around, the sofa at the back of the room still draped with blankets, one of which you wrapped around your frame. 

With the four walls surrounding you, you finally allowed yourself to take a moment. A tear fell down your cheek, which you quickly wiped away, throwing your head back. 

You lost count of how long you were in the room, waves of fear, pride, nerves washing over you. Your mind was spiralling out of control as you tried to piece together the various pieces of the emotional jigsaw you were fixing. 

The only thing that brought you back was Carlos creeping into the room, smiling weakly as he greeted you. His hand looked a lot better, bandage around it to try and protect the wound, hiding the faint colours of purple that you’d already noticed earlier. 

“Hi,” you whispered as Carlos tentatively took a seat beside you. 

There was still a slight tension as Carlos turned to face you. “I thought you might be in here, do you want me to leave you alone?” 

“No,” you spoke, resting your head in your hands, “this is your room more than it is mine.” 

“I’m sorry,” Carlos spoke as soon as you fell silent. 

“You’re an idiot,” you scolded, but Carlos already knew that. “I don’t even know what you were thinking doing that today.” 

Carlos shrugged back across at you, “it was stupid, but at that moment it felt like the right thing to do in order to protect you.” 

“I don’t always need protecting,” you reminded him, your voice getting louder with every word you spoke. “I especially don’t need protecting if that’s the way that you’re going to do it.” 

Carlos understood your frustrations, he knew you felt let down by his actions, but now he was scared too. “I’m sorry that I let you down, but I was scared too love. I was terrified that this guy was going to start getting involved with you, and then I just wouldn’t have known what to do.” 

Your brows knitted together, “do you really think if anyone else was interested in me that I would pay them any attention when I’ve got you here with me?” 

“I know, and that’s on me,” Carlos whispered, running his hands over his face. “Maybe it’s me, maybe I’m the one that needs to stop watching over their shoulder all the time.” 

You shifted your body so that you were facing Carlos too, making sure that your full attention was on him as he began to open up to you. 

“Everyone thinks that I’ve got it all, the career, the partner, the supportive family, but that doesn’t mean that I don’t worry too,” Carlos confessed, his voice a little shaky. “I still worry most days that something is going to give, that something is going to get taken away from me, and the thing that I’d hate to get taken the most is definitely you.” 

You nodded, taking in every word that Carlos said to you. “I never imagined you’d feel like that, I guess I was one of those people that was under the illusion that you were living the dream too. Do you really worry that someone’s going to come and take me away from you?” 

“Everyday.” 

“Oh, Carlos,” you whispered, feeling your heart break. You moved closer towards him, taking a hold of his unbandaged hand. 

“I know it sounds stupid, but it scares me sometimes how in love I am with you, and I worry that someday all of this is going to be taken away from me. I’ve never been happier than I am with you,” Carlos told you, tightening his grip on your hand. 

You smiled weakly as his tearful eyes looked across at you. “If that’s ever how you feel, you’ve just got to come and tell me, don’t act like this. I didn’t recognise you earlier when you hit him, that’s not the Carlos that I know and love, it was like watching a stranger. 

It was something that Carlos knew he’d have to spend a long time making up to you, knowing that his actions left you frightened earlier was a guilt that he wouldn’t be able to get rid of for a while. He knew he’d let his own insecurities eat away at him for too long, unable to hold it back today and finally letting them tip over the edge and get him into trouble. 

You could see it too, seeing him silently scold himself as he let the voices in his head get the better of him. 

“I love that you love me and want to protect me, but I only ever want you to do that when you’re safe,” you asked of him, “not getting yourself into a situation like this.” 

Carlos nodded at your request, “I don’t ever want to end up like this again, my hand hurts more now than it does after a crash.” 

Your eyes rolled as a snigger came from Carlos. “You’re going to be feeling the effects of that for a while, luckily for you, you’ve got a partner who knows a thing or two about helping you through injuries.” 

Carlos’ head came down to rest against your shoulder, “I think I’m just lucky that I’ve got you, in whatever situation we find ourselves.” 

Your eyes were drawn to the bandage on Carlos’ hand, placing your free hand gently over it. Knowing that was underneath was done for you hurt, knowing Carlos had put himself through that just for you left a sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach. 

“Promise me that you’ll talk to me,” you asked him, wanting to hear it one final time from him, “tell me things, that’ll still make you my knight in shining armour.” 

Carlos nodded back at you straight away, “I promise I’ll tell you anything, no matter how stupid it might be.” 

“Nothing is stupid if it keeps you safe,” you reminded him, leaning your head back to press a kiss against the top of his, “that’s all I want for you.” 

“I know, and that’s all that I want for you too.” 

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

[echoofadream]

Your favorite patient...

Part 1

Summary: You are a hardworking doctor and you save a man's life. Wait, why is he coming back with all sorts of conditions? What do you mean he followed you home? He's begging to be your...what?

Contains: Obsessive behavior(yandere), stalking, mentions of masturbation, slight smut, dom!reader(gender is not specified), sub!male!yandere.

Imagine you work in a hospital. You're a workaholic doctor who simply loves treating people and helping them get healthier and better. You greet everyone with a smile and try to cheer up every person who comes in, despite their state. 

One day a young man is brought into the ER and you find out he had been in a horrible car accident. You don't waste any more time and treat his wounds and the next day he's already conscious and aware of everything happening around him. Yours is the first face he sees once awake.

The following days you visit him in his hospital room and ask him how he's feeling, the same honest and benevolent smile on your face. You can tell that he's exaggerating most of the time and that the pain he tells you he's experiencing is not as severe as he claims. So you do the only rational thing and discharge him.

Next week, he's back with another issue and he requests you specifically. An ear infection. It wasn't your area of expertise but you took a look and recommended him a qualified doctor. He left displeased.

One week later you saw him again. A stomach ache. It wasn't bad but he wouldn't have it. "You don't get it, doctor! It hurts!" he'd say and grab your wrist, putting it on his lower stomach. He wanted a set of tests. He was even willing to pay any sum of money! You actually ran the tests and he spent one night in the hospital. You should've paid more attention to the smile he had on his face when you came with his results. He wasn't pleased seeing a green line next to every word on the file, yet he understood the situation and left. "Thank you so much, doctor!" he said with a huge smile on his face. "I was so scared! What would I do without you?"

The following week he was in the ER again. Ibuprofen overdose. "I had a headache and didn't know what to do! Help me, doctor!" A part of you was starting to see a pattern, yet your overworked mind couldn't quite put the finger on the issue at hand. You treated him like any other patient. The same friendly smile on your face, the same soft tone of voice, the same tired eyes. You were busy saving lives everyday. This was your duty and you had to do it right. "Such a big heart you have, doctor!" the same adoration in his eyes when he says this as always. "You're amazing!" and you could've sworn you saw tiny hearts forming inside his dark pupils. You should drink less caffeine, really.

After a couple of days the man doesn't come into the ER. Yet you don't even notice his absence. You were so overworked, so tired! Poor you!

One random Thursday(a thoroughly planned day) you freeze when you step into your living room. A familiar person was sitting on your couch. You knew him from somewhere, but why was it so hard for you to remember?

"Hello, doctor!" he greets. The same smile, the same excited voice. And you recognized him. "Don't tell me you don't know who I am..." he started, a bit of disappointment making its way into his facial expression.

You were standing there, unable to move. What was your patient doing inside your house? How did he know where you lived? How did he get inside? Why did he get inside? Was he dange-

"You don't look too pleased to see me, doctor..." he says, a small frown on his face. He approaches you and you instinctively take a step back. "Don't be afraid. I'd never hurt you." his words were either as honest as they could be or he was one hell of a liar. The former sounded better. "You're good and kind and gentle. I'd never hurt you" he chuckled. That makes you make another step back.

"What are you doing here?" you ask, breathlessly.

"I'm here for you, isn't that obvious?"

It was very obvious but you were hoping he'd elaborate.

"You work so hard, doctor" he starts talking in a pitiful, saddened voice. "You work overtime almost everyday. You always come back home late. You don't even have time to cook and you always order takeaway. Then you sit in front of the TV with a glass of wine in your hand, drifting off with god knows what series in the background." He chuckles. "Well, I know actually.".

He takes another step towards you and you flinch. "I wanna make you feel good, doctor" he tells you, almost whimpering. "You work so hard...it's a pity you don't have a slave at home to take care of each and every one of your needs"

Did he just say slave?

"I've been following you ever since you saved my life, doctor. I owe you!". He puts a hand over his heart, trying to show you just how much he loves you. "I know everything you do. I know you barely have a social life, or a sleep schedule or time for yourself except for the moments when you lay on your back on the bed, your glass on the bedside table and you...touch yourself." He blushed at his own words. Meanwhile, you were going through the five stages of fear. If they didn't exist until now, well now they did.

"You don't have any time to clean this place either. I know, since I try not to cough when I lay under your bed and listen to your moans every night." A huge smile spreads across his face. "God, you're amazing..." .

Your hand goes to the pocket of your coat and, as soon as he sees you, his face darkens.

"Doctor...I told you I'm not here to hurt you" His tone held some sort of threat and that made you the more afraid. Your fingers wrap around your phone and you pull it out. He grabs your wrist, stopping you. "You're not gonna do that!" he screams. "You're gonna make me yours! You're gonna do it!".

The sound of your palm making contact with his cheek echoed in the room. He bends forward a little, covering his red cheek and whining softly. He looks at you with fear in his eyes, but you needed to be blind not to see the arousal that fear created. He drops to his knees, hands on his thighs, head lowered.

"I'm sorry, doctor!" he whines. "I shouldn't have yelled at you! Please forgive me! Please! Forgive me for being such a bad boy..." .

You look at him with a shocked expression. It was crystal clear that he was living inside his own world of make-believe in which you were the master and he was the slave. It was obvious he'd wanted it ever since he first saw you. And that he wouldn't take 'no' for an answer.

You smirk, all the previously felt fear having already vanished. After all, everything he said was right. You were exhausted and you needed someone to serve you. You deserved it, didn't you? Weren't you that god sent person who saved this poor boy's life? Why not give him what he wants? Why not...give yourself what you want?

"You followed me home" you start, your tone as assertive as you could make it. You could see his body shiver and that only made you keep going. "You broke into my house multiple times. You stalked me!"

A soft whimper escapes the man in front of you. He tries to lift his head, to look at you with those big pleading puppy eyes of his, to show you how very sorry he felt(not in the slightest) for doing all that. But when you snap at him he lowers his head again.

"You gave yourself medical conditions so that I could treat you! What kind of sick fuck does that?"

He moaned when he heard your degrading words, lifting his head and looking you straight in the eyes, a big smile on his face.

"I'm sick, doctor. I'm very sick..."

You laughed at his wordplay. "I think you've been a bad boy. A bad sick naughty boy. You know what bad boys get?" You smirk, waiting for his answer.

"Punishment!" he yells, his eagerness immeasurable. "They get punishment. Please, doctor..."

"Please, what?"

"Please....punish me"

Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed it!

If this goes well I'll write the second part(smut ofc).

[samuelsdean]

Stay With Me

pairing: spencer reid x reader

summary:  "you’ve been shot countless times, huh?” “that sounded a bit more reassuring in my head.”

genre: angst & fluff

word count: 1.1k

author's notes: almost a year of no writing, but i'm finally home (i posted a new fic)! it's been one hectic year for me. uni was crazy & i started my clinical rotations. plus, i did my thesis & it even got a distinction mark so i'll be presenting it at a research congress pretty soon (yay!). with that, i'm really sorry for ghosting ao3 & tumblr. i couldn't find the time to insert it in between uni & breaking down lol. anyway, i'll be posting a lot more while i'm on break. i hope you'll enjoy reading my first fic after a year of zzz. have fun!

YOU CAN HEAR SIRENS AND PEOPLE SHOUTING.

They say when you are knocking on death’s door, hearing is the last of your senses you will lose. If you’re dying, you don’t know it. Nothing makes sense at the moment. It’s all just blurry hues of blues and reds and shouting—Stay with me—the smell of something metallic. The only thing you’re sure of right now is that your head hurts and it seemed like a van ran right through you with how achy your body feels right now. 

Who’s  that? You mused. Why are they yelling at me?  I’m  right here. You turned your head slightly and tried to open your eyes.

It’s quite the task.

“T-That’s it,” The person, whom you think was yelling at you, said. “Stay with me, Y/N. Don’t close your eyes.”

You groaned and gripped the person's hand tightly as if to stand up, but you couldn't. Everything ached. And the person holding you, just kept on talking, their voice a low murmur at first. But even through the haze of pain, it was starting to sound familiar. You recognized that dulcet tone, the rich, smooth sound that could captivate your attention with random facts or lull you to sleep with equal ease.

The voice, you realized with a flicker of a smile, belonged to Spencer, its familiar cadence a warm current cutting through the blossoming pain.

“Reid?” You croaked.

Your throat’s dryer than any other desert in existence right now. And you sound worse than you look—you think—you don’t know for sure, except the fact that you can’t move much.

“It’s me,” Spencer chuckled while sniffling. “I’m right here.”

“What’s going on?”

Even through the haze of pain, a new wave of discomfort bloomed in your shoulder, sharp and insistent. Before you could react and get up, Spencer's hand tightened on yours, his voice laced with a tremor you'd never heard before. "Don't move, Y/N. You've been shot."

He applied pressure on your wound—which you just noticed. The pain hit you in a delayed wave, a white-hot stab that stole your breath. You hissed a weak sound that did little to mask the spike in your heart rate. 

"Stop moving or you're gonna bleed out even more!" Spencer's voice, usually so calm and collected, was laced with a raw panic you'd never heard before.

"Easy there, tiger," you tried to joke, your voice raspy. "I've been through worse. I’ve been shot countless times. W-why are you so worried?"

The question came out in a shaky whisper, the concern evident in his voice a stark contrast to the usual intellectual debates you shared.

Spencer's grip tightened, momentarily cutting off your circulation. "Because you could have died, Y/N!" he snapped, his voice cracking with a choked sob. "You… you were…"

He trailed off, unable to put into words the terrifying image that had flashed before him when he saw you collapse, after hearing the sound of a bullet whizzing by and hitting you.

The sight of your vulnerability stripped away his usual composure, leaving a raw fear he couldn't conceal. It took him a moment to regain his composure, his voice softening as he continued, "You shouldn't be so glib about this. It was a nasty shot, close to a major artery."

Despite the pain, a warmth bloomed in your chest. You'd never seen Spencer like this, so shaken and afraid.

"Okay," you murmured, forcing a weak snicker. “I’m sorry. For what it’s worth, at least I got you to patch me up, right, Dr.Reid?"

A ghost of a smile glinted across his face, but it didn't reach his eyes. "Hold still," he mumbled, amused but also bothered at your dreadful timing for jokes. He applied pressure more gently this time. "You’ve been shot countless times, huh?”

“That sounded a bit more reassuring in my head” You quipped. 

A bit lightheaded from the pain, you clutched Spencer’s hand. The shriek of approaching sirens and the glare of headlights cut through the haze. You struggled to focus on the lifeline thrown in a storm of confusion.

"They're here," Spencer said, his voice tight. A sheen of sweat beaded on his forehead, a stark contrast to his usual cool composure.

"About time," you rasped, trying to lighten the mood. The effort cost you a fresh wave of dizziness, the world tilting slightly on its axis.

To which, Spencer shot you a look that was half-annoyed, half-worried. "Don't try to be a hero. You're losing a lot of blood. Any movement can dislodge the clot forming in your wound, renewing the bleeding. So, stop moving!"

"Just keeping things interesting," you mumbled, the words slurring slightly. “Wouldn’t want my last moments here on earth to be so grim…”

Spencer's jaw clenched for a moment, then he sighed, the sound heavy with relief. "You always were a pain," He muttered, but there was a hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. You’re  going to be okay, he thought.

The sirens reached a fever pitch, pulling up right beside you. A flurry of activity erupted as paramedics swarmed, the rest of the team trying to make sure you were tended to and that you were going to be okay, their movements a bit panicked but practiced, and efficient. Relief washed over you, a sweet wave that threatened to pull you under. 

"Hold on, Y/N," Spencer said, his voice desperate despite the composure of his words. He kept his hand pressed firmly on your wound, his touch a grounding anchor in the chaos. “Help is here. Everyone’s here. Just… stay with me, okay?"

"Going somewhere," you slurred, your eyelids drooping.

"No, you're not," he said fiercely, his voice barely a whisper above the shouts of the paramedics. "You're coming with us."

You coughed a sharp rasp that sent a jolt of pain through your shoulder. "Stats say shoulder wounds aren't usually fatal," you wheezed, trying to distract yourself from the ache.

Spencer's hand stilled for a moment, looking at you like you’ve grown a second head. "What?"

"Yeah," you continued, your voice weak but persistent. "L-look, I get it, you're scared. But statistically, shoulder wounds aren't as serious..." Your voice trailed off as a wave of nausea washed over you.

"Maybe you shouldn't be reciting medical statistics right now," Spencer said sharply, his voice laced with a hint of panic.

“S-shouldn’t that be my line, boy genius?” You continued to joke, as the world dissolved into a scramble of flashing lights and blurry faces.

The last thing you registered was the feel of Spencer's hand tightening around yours, his touch a silent promise that resonated louder than any siren.

[miss-oranje-disco-dancer]

playing house

pairing: stepdad! leon x reader

cw: stepcest, dd/lg, breeding kink, p in v, oral sex, lots of talk about reader's dead mother (including during sex)

a/n: some of these sentences pained me to type

wc: 5.1k

Someone had to be the strict parent, so your mother took on that role. After your deadbeat dad fucked off for good, she got a new man to be the fun parent – the actual fun parent, not the irresponsible parent like her ex-husband was.

He was a father figure to you, but you generally stuck to calling him “Leon”. “Dad” just left a bad taste in your mouth because you associated it with your real father. Despite being a little stern, your mom was a great woman. She had tons of friends who loved her, she raised you well, etc. All of this you said in your eulogy to her.

Leon tried to hold himself together for you but you could see him shed a few tears from the pews while you spoke. The days since your mom had passed were exhausting, and you just wanted it to be over. Unfortunately, one of your mom’s friends, Kate, insisted on throwing your mom an “End of Life Celebration”, a more jovial time because that’s what she would’ve wanted. You didn’t doubt that she would’ve wanted you to all drink champagne and eat cake, but she sure as hell wouldn’t have liked the way the neighborhood mom’s were shamelessly flirting with her husband.

It was disgusting. The man was widowed only a week ago, he was still wearing his wedding band. He looked nice in his black suit, but that didn’t make it acceptable for those grown women to grope him. For an intelligent man, Leon could be oblivious in these situations, especially when he’s tipsy. You, on the other hand, are perceptive and sober.

You aren’t pulling some sort of stunt when you go to talk to Leon and end up crying, you really are sad. Duh. Your mom just fucking died.

“Do you wanna go home, sweetheart?” He asks, placing a comforting hand on your back.

“Yeah,” you sniffle.

“Okay,” he whispers to you with a gentle smile. Then, he turns to the gaggle of women surrounding him and says, “We’re about ready to take off. Thank you for having us.” He’s so charming he could tell them all to go fuck themselves on his way out. They would go fuck themselves. They will go fuck themselves to the thought of him with their overpriced dildos while their husbands snore on the couch, none the wiser.

“Are you sure, hon?” Kate asks, caressing Leon’s shoulder. Even he thinks she’s getting a little too handsy.

“It’s getting late, and I think we need to get some sleep after such a long day.”

“Oh, of course,” she says with well-acted sympathy. She pulls Leon in for a hug and says, “Let me know if you need anything. I know it’s hard right now.”

With the way she’s pressing her tits up against him, it’s about to get hard if he doesn’t leave now.

“Will do,” he says, practically pushing her off of him.

You’ve wandered off a bit, feeling nauseated by Kate’s perfume. Leon comes over to you and grabs your hand, escorting you out of Kate’s house.

The moment he gets into the car, Leon sighs.

“Thank you for taking me home,” you say.

“No, thank you for getting me out of there before Kate got her hands on me, or, more than she already did.” He blushes, more embarrassed than flustered.

“Yeah, she was acting really weird, almost like she was coming onto you.”

Yeah, she was, and you’re not stupid, but you’re going to ease into the accusation.

“I know,” he laughs to avoid the awkwardness. “She was touching my thigh like this.” He rubs your thigh, not intending anything by it other than demonstration, but his touch makes you feel something new. Uh-oh. You begin to understand his charm.

“Sorry, sweet pea,” Leon says, noticing your discomfort.

“It’s okay,” you laugh it off. “I can’t believe she was so obvious.”

“Yeah, she was about this close to touching my dick.” Leon holds up his fingers to explain how close “this close” was.

You laugh, and so does he, but not without, “Sorry, I shouldn’t have said that word around you.”

“Dick? I’m not a child. You’re allowed to say bad words, as long as mom doesn’t pull a Jesus stunt and come back to life.”

Your joke makes Leon laugh, and it’s the first time you’ve seen him genuinely smile since your mom passed. “You have her sense of humor,” he says.

When you get home, you both pass out pretty quickly. It was a long day. You wake up in the middle of the night, unable to push away the grief. You cry in bed until you’re dehydrated at which point you go into the kitchen to grab a glass of water, not bothering to stop crying because you assume Leon is upstairs and won’t hear you.

But he’s asleep on the couch – or he was asleep until you woke him up.

“Oh, honey,” he says, “I hate seeing you cry.”

“Sorry… I can’t help it.”

“I know, but is there anything I can do to make you feel better? I know you’d probably rather confide in your mama, but you’re welcome to come sit with me and talk.”

You nod and walk over to the couch, sitting closer than you normally would. It’s not abnormal considering the circumstances. He rubs your back and softly hushes you while you cry.

“Mom usually hugs me,” you say through tears.

He nods and holds his arms open for you. His heart beat and steady breathing helps, just like mom’s did. But his arms are even bigger and warmer. “You’re good at this, you know?” you say eventually.

“I’m glad I can help.”

“Dad?” you ask.

Leon doesn’t mention the name you called him. “Yeah?”

“Why are you sleeping on the couch?”

“Not used to sleeping alone, I guess. I should be since I go away on missions and I sleep alone then, but it feels weird being in that bed without your mother next to me.”

“Oh.”

“So, the couch kills my back, but I can’t seem to fall asleep up there.”

“I bet Kate would’ve let you sleep in her bed.”

“Ugh. I’d rather sleep outside.”

You both laugh while you gather up the courage to offer, “you can sleep in my bed if you want. It’s a queen size, so it would fit both of us.”

“Aw thank you, sweet pea, but I wouldn’t do that to you.”

“Dad, it’s no big deal. I don’t want you to have to sleep out here.”

Leon ends up following you to your room, and as expected, you do both fit in your bed.

“Mom usually hugs me until I fall asleep when I’m sad.”

You’re not lying. She does. Or at least, she did.

“Okay,” he agrees even though he feels a bit weird about cuddling with you. But you’ve done him a favor, he’ll do you one too.

You turn to him and curl up in his arms. Eventually when he thinks you’re asleep, he presses a kiss to your forehead. You are almost asleep, but you register the kiss. In your sleepy haze, you grab his cheeks and pull him in for a real kiss. To both of your surprise, he takes it in stride. He kisses you softly, but truly. But before your tongues can touch, he pulls back.

“Baby girl, I don’t think this is right.”

“I’m sorry.” You begin to cry again. You can’t help it. You’re humiliated at your own actions. You’re taking advantage of a grieving man, or so you think.

“No, honey, it’s no big deal. We can just forget about it and everything will go back to normal.”

“No, I’m no better than Kate or any of those other sluts that are supposed to be mom’s friends.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. You are nothing like them. You were not doing anything wrong. You were just looking for comfort, and that’s okay.”

“I thought you said it was wrong?”

“It would be wrong for us to do anything more than that, and it seemed like things were going in that direction.”

“What if we just kissed, and didn’t do anything else?”

He sighs, trying to find something to justify doing this other than his attraction to you.

“I don’t know… I know I’m not your dad, but I’m still your step-dad, so it’s not right.”

“Didn’t that one guy marry his step daughter?”

“I don’t think he’s a role model, sweet pea.”

“What if we kissed, and didn’t do anything else, and then didn’t tell anyone?”

“Are you sure that’s something you’d want? I don’t want to come onto you in a moment of weakness.”

“I want it. Promise.”

“Okay,” he says and then leans in. This time your tongues do meet and Leon kisses you like he means it. While you’re making out, Leon’s hands run down your body cautiously, making sure not to touch any inappropriate spots. You both abide by the “nothing more than kissing rule”.

You sleep well, and so does Leon. That’s why you end up in the same position the next night, kissing and all. This time you feel his erection pressing up against your thigh. He pulls back and tries to hide it, but you both know he’s been caught.

“Sorry,” he mumbles.

“It’s okay,” you say. “It doesn’t bother me.”

“It doesn’t? Because I promise it’s just- it’s something that happens sometimes.”

“I know how it works, dad. I’m an adult. It’s not the first time I’ve seen one.”

He looks at you wide-eyed.

“What? Did you think I was a virgin?”

“I haven’t been thinking about your virginity much either way.”

“But you’re thinking about me right now, right? Or are you thinking about someone else?”

“It’s not about you, don’t worry. It’s just a natural reaction.”

“Am I not good enough?”

“No, no, god no, that’s not what I meant. I didn’t want to make you feel weird.”

“So you lied and said no, when the answer is yes?”

“Listen, I’m sorry. I don’t want to feel this way, and like I said last night, I don’t want to take advantage of you. So, we should probably stop here.”

“You wouldn’t be taking advantage of me. I’ve had feelings for you for a while.”

“For how long?”

“A long time. But, I knew it was wrong, and I’ve always felt bad, and I’m sorry I kissed you. I feel like I’m the one who’s taking advantage of you.”

“You’re not taking advantage of me. I’m old enough to make my own choices.”

“The only thing is that... I kinda wanna do more, more than just kissing.”

“Are you sure about that, honey? Because I don’t think we should.”

“Like I said, you’re not my real dad, and it’s not even like I call you ‘dad’ or ‘daddy’.” You notice that his dick twitches at the word ‘daddy’. “… unless you’d like me to call you ‘daddy’.”

Leon’s face is flushed. It’s an admission in and of itself.

“It’s okay if you want me to call you that. I wouldn’t mind.”

“Is that something you’re into?”

“I know it’s weird, but yeah, yeah I am. Can I- can I call you ‘daddy’?”

“If that’s what you want. But, don’t expect this to go away.” He points towards his hard-on.

“I could help you with it, daddy, if you’d like that.”

His eyes practically glass over, dazed like he’s being taken over by a parasite. It’s different now than ‘04. Very different.

“How? Because I really don’t want to go all the way with you… not tonight.” Not tonight, he says, because it’s the most he can promise you.

“I know how to do other things.”

“Like what?” Leon knows that there are other ways to get off than penetration, but he doesn’t how many of those ways you have experience with.

“Can I show you?”

He sighs and pulls out his cock – rock-hard and leaking from the tip. You take in the sight of what you’ve just been presented with before looking back up at Leon with pleading eyes. He nods, giving you permission. Even though you’ve fantasized about this moment for years now, you struggle to keep your hand from trembling when you swipe your thumb over the head. You have to be good enough for him. Or else you’re just one of those other sluts. It takes Leon a minute to register your nerves because his dick twitches when your hand makes contact with it.

You pump his length slowly while your lips meet his in a passionate kiss. With your chest against his, he can feel your rapid heart rate, he knows you’re nervous.

“Do you want me to help you?” he whispers into your mouth, but doesn’t wait for your answer. Instead he wraps his bigger hand around yours, helping you stroke him the way he likes best.

“There you go,” he says like the proud father he is. “You’re getting the hang of it.”

“Daddy, can I use my mouth too?”

“You can do whatever you want, baby girl.”

You dip your head down and lick a stripe from the base to the tip, then begin taking him in your mouth one inch at a time until you start to choke. While the sight of your watery eyes looking up at him is arousing, Leon’s paternal instincts kick in and he needs to protect your poor throat. He lifts you up gently, telling you, “Don’t hurt yourself.”

“I wanna do a good job. I wanna be good for you, daddy.”

“You are, kiddo. You’re doing great for daddy.”

“But I wanna be able to take it all.”

“It’s okay,” he says, stroking your hair. “You’re just a sweet little thing, huh? You haven’t got enough practice yet. I’ll teach you how, baby.”

While he speaks you take the opportunity to suckle at the tip.

“Just like that, baby. Such a good girl.”

Good girl. It ignites something inside you. No, that fire was already lit, he’s just pouring gasoline into the flames.

You move one hand up and down his shaft while your mouth tends to the head until he cums in your mouth, without warning. Sticky white drips from the corners of your lips and though you look adorable, Leon apologizes. “Sorry, kiddo. Got caught up and forgot to warn you.”

“Sorry I couldn’t do better for you.”

“Hey, look at me.” He places his hand on the back of your head, making you meet his eyes. “I mean it when I say you’re a good girl. I’d be concerned if you could take it down your throat like it’s nothing. You’re just inexperienced, and that can be a good thing.”

It can be when you’re his little girl.

Leon returns to kissing you, his hand traveling down between your thighs, making you gasp into his mouth. You’re embarrassed at how wet you are when his fingers swipe along the gusset of your panties.

“Can I touch you, sweet pea?”

“Yes, daddy. Want it so bad.”

“I can tell,” he says, slipping his fingers under the fabric, finally making contact with your skin. “Were you feeling like this all night?”

“Yeah,” you say, voice trembling already, trying desperately not to moan. You don’t want to embarrass yourself further.

“I’m proud of you for waiting. You’re my good girl, aren’t you?”

“Uh-huh.” You struggle with words while his fingers tease your slit, eventually dipping one inside, pumping in and out slowly while his thumb rubs circles around your clit.

“Can I take these off, baby? Wanna see those pretty princess parts.”

You nod, clinging to the sheets in an effort to keep your hands off Leon lest you interrupt his work.

He marvels at the sight of your dripping core. “Yesterday you were cryin’ from up there, but it looks like you’re cryin’ for me down here now, huh?”

You want to cry after he calls you out for being so needy. You worry it seems pathetic. When you do, Leon hears it. He’s been paying attention to every sound you make, most of them threatening to make his dick get hard again.

“I don’t wanna see tears, baby.” He kisses your cheeks in an effort to wipe them away. “I want you to feel good.”

“I just- I’m sorry for being so… so-”

“Wet?”

You nod.

“Why would you be sorry?” Leon would laugh at the absurd statement if you weren’t crying. “Your princess parts look so pretty when they’re all wet like this.”

Your face flushes, and he whispers in your ear, “But I bet they taste even better.”

“You- you wanna taste it?”

“You have no idea how badly I wanna taste you, baby.”

He’s already spreading your thighs with his hands, so he can bury his face between them. His fingers never cease touching you, getting you ready for this moment. Leon gently kisses your clit and you writhe, moaning louder than ever, half in anticipation of Leon truly going down on you. He doesn’t get to spend much time savoring you, though, because the moment his tongue flicks over your clit, you cum. Leon, surprised yet aroused, takes it in stride, gently sucking on your clit – clearly you’re sensitive. He licks up every drop of your sweet arousal, not coming up for breath until you’re almost in tears from overstimulation.

He can see the apology on your lips. “Daddy’s so proud of you. You did so good for me.”

The daddy persona swiftly slithers its way into your day-to-day. It was supposed to be something that stayed in the bedroom, you thought. But daddy’s proud of you outside the bedroom too, and you’re his good girl all day long. He’s gotta remind you, especially these days when you seem more insecure than usual.

In the process of sorting through your mom’s things, you end up finding things from your childhood – toys, art supplies, even some old clothes. Leon catches you setting up your old dollhouse.

“Oh hey, kiddo,” he says, startling you. “Brought that old thing back out, huh?”

“Yeah, I know mom said I was too old to play with dolls but I really loved setting the house with all the little pieces of furniture.”

“I think your mom was just worried about you fitting in, that’s all. And, hey, if you want to refurbish that, you know, do some interior decorating, we could buy some home accessories.”

“Really?” You beam at his offer.

“I’ll do pretty much anything to see that smile of yours.”

“Thank you, daddy.” You almost knock him over when you rush to hug him. He gives you a peck on the cheek – you’re the one who turns it into another make-out session. It doesn’t escape you that you can see his dick stiffening almost instantly.

But, it isn’t enough. You need to have him, fully, deeply. So, when you’re lying in bed next to him, you propose the idea. Things are already hot and heavy so you assume he’ll be easier to convince.

“I want you inside me,” you say bluntly.

“Uh… I don’t know if that’s a good idea, honey.”

“What’s the difference between sex and what we’ve been doing?”

Morally, you’re probably right. You’ve already crossed a line that cannot be uncrossed. The difference between sucking your stepdad off and having sex with him is minuscule.

There’s only one new concern. “Baby, I could get you pregnant.”

It’s a warning, not an offer, but your corrupted brain hears otherwise. “Would that be such a bad thing?”

Leon is stunned. He’d expected a response along the lines of “Just pull out” or “I’m on the pill”, or if you had any sense in you, “You’re right, daddy. We shouldn’t do that.” As it turns out, you like the sound of Leon impregnating you.

He thinks of ways to back out of this situation before it’s too late, but instead, he asks a question – motivated by the fact that he, too, is turned on by the idea.

“What exactly do you mean by that? Do you actually want to try to conceive a child? Or is it a sort of… kink for you?” His eyes flicker with excitement when he brings up the possibility of this being a kink – a mutual kink.

“Just wanna play pretend with you, daddy. You remember when I wanted to play house, and I was mommy and you were daddy? We didn’t have a baby.”

“So, you’re suggesting that, instead of buying a baby doll, we should have our own real baby?” Leon’s playing your game now – house, but with an added twist: the realism of mommy and daddy having sex.

“Yeah, I want your baby, daddy.”

“I’ve changed my mind, sweet pea. I think it’s a good idea. Since I’m more experienced at playing house, I should teach you how to have a healthy marriage.”

Your grin turns from dopey to mischievous when you say, “Daddy, I’ve never done it before, so I need you to teach me.”

Leon is almost certain that’s false, but goddamn if it’s not sexy. So, he plays along.

“Oh, baby, of course you haven’t. You’re just a sweet little thing, aren’t you?”

Leon starts to reconsider when he finally gets his cock inside your pussy. It’s tight, really tight.

“Daddy, is it gonna fit?”

I sure hope so, he thinks.

“Yeah, we’ll make it work.” Leon is panting at the way you’re squeezing around him.

“Are you nervous, honey? Is that part of it?”

You nod shyly, and not in the intentional ingenue way. It’s real.

“How ‘bout we hold hands then? Daddy wants to make sure you feel safe.”

So, he holds your hands, letting you grip them tight as he feeds himself to you slowly. Your eyes are squeezed shut until he prompts you to open them, “Look at you, baby. You’re taking daddy’s cock so well.”

You’ve never felt more full. Leon’s thrusts are shallow, never fully pulling out. He needs to make sure he cums inside you.

He’s worried he’s going to cum too soon, but luckily you say something that takes him by complete surprise and his mind is no longer being held captive by your velvety walls.

“Daddy, did you used to do this with mom a lot?”

Normally, he would stop, leave the room, and rethink his existence, but he’s an addict getting his fix right now, so he tells you the truth. “Uh, yeah, in the beginning, but not so much towards the end…” The end of her life. She fucking died. He can’t believe he’s talking about his wife who’s buried six feet under while he’s buried inside his step-daughter’s cunt.

“Is it as good as when you did it with mom?” You’ve always been jealous of your mom. She was sweet, funny, drop-dead gorgeous.

“Even better, baby. I loved your mom, but your pretty princess cunt is no match for anyone else’s.”

As absolutely absurd as that sentence should be, the sentiment – you being the best Leon’s ever had makes you wetter. Leon fucks you faster just to hear the schlick schlick schlick sound that accompanies every thrust.

“Daddy’s gonna cum soon,” he warns, causing you to clamp down around him, your body insisting that he cums inside of you – that he breeds you.

“Please, daddy.” You can only get out two words before you gush around him, taking him by surprise.

“Fuck yes, baby. Daddy’s so proud of you,” he says, slowing his thrusts to guide you through your orgasm. You cling to him, sobbing when you come down from your high.

“Do you need daddy to stop?” Leon hates to see you cry.

“No,” you whine, scratching down his back like punishment for even suggesting such a thing. “Want a baby, daddy.”

“You’re such a good girl. Of course daddy’s gonna put a baby in you in you.”

“Need it, daddy.”

“You need daddy to get you pregnant, huh?” Leon’s teetering on the edge.

He buries himself to the hilt, pressing his tip right against your cervix before he spills his seed inside you.

“Goddamn, baby,” he says. “Your cute little kiddo cunt’s takin’ it so well. Not gonna have anything left in me if you squeeze me like that.”

Neither of you quite register what he says until you wake up from your post-orgasm nap, and even then, neither of you mention it. You realize that you can’t decide whether you want to have Leon’s baby or be Leon’s baby. You learn to find a sort of middle ground.

Leon takes you out and parades you around as his daughter in front of all the neighborhood moms, but fucks you like you’re his girlfriend when you get home. Especially after he’s had a bit to drink. Despite the taste of alcohol on his breath, you love when he’s a little tipsy. It makes him even more affectionate. When you drive him home, he’s already kissing your neck and running his hand along your thigh, trying to inch his way up your skirt.

You deposit your car keys on the counter and his hands encircle your waist from behind. He nibbles at your earlobe before whispering, “you wanna take this upstairs?”

You swiftly turn around and press your palm to the bulge in his pants. “Daddy, I thought I was supposed to be the needy one.”

“Oh, so daddy’s not allowed to want his baby? I bet you want me too.” He slips his hand under your dress to feel the damp fabric of your panties.

“Was daddy right?” Leon’s a natural sweet-talker, but when he’s buzzed, his words come out candy-coated – despite his breath having been tainted by whiskey.

You nod shyly and grab his hand so he can lead you to the bedroom – the one you now share. You had a single glass of white wine hours ago, so your behavior can’t be attributed to drunkenness. You always get fuzzy in the head when Leon’s affection turns into seduction.

You walk hand-in-hand like a parent helping a child cross the street though it’s unclear who is the adult in the situation. You make it to the upstairs hallway before Leon pushes you up against the wall, pinning your wrists above your head so you can’t escape his fervent kisses. He lets go of your arms so he can thread his fingers through your hair. You’ve only made it halfway to the bedroom and it’s already sloppy tongue-and-teeth-filled.

Leon lifts your shirt over your head and tosses it on the floor, unbuttoning his own with an urgency you’ve yet to see from him. The only way you can get a word in between kisses is by pushing him away from you. The face he gives you isn’t concern or offense, but a juvenile disappointment. You wonder if this is what you look like when you pout.

"Slow down," you say when you finally break free, "I’m not sure we should do this.”

“What? Fuck? You don’t have to dance around the word.”

“Yeah.”

“Why not? I thought you were into this.”

“It’s not that…” you sigh. “You’re drunk, Leon.”

“I’m a little buzzed, I’ll admit, but I’m not drunk.”

“Can we just wait until you’ve sobered up a little?”

“Yeah,” he says reluctantly. “What do you wanna do until then?”

“We can just kiss,” you lie, knowing kissing always turns into more between you and Leon.

You don’t let him fuck you. Instead, you sit atop him naked, rolling your hips slowly back and forth, rubbing your soaking cunt along his cock. You watch as the head drools precum onto his stomach. He’d be embarrassed if your slick wasn’t already coating his length. At the sight, you move faster, considering it a challenge to get him to cum like this.

He reaches for your hips in an effort to take control of the situation but you swat his hands away. You may be his baby, but he’s your daddy. You own him as much as he owns you.

He looks dazed despite the alcohol wearing off. He’s pussydrunk now.

“Daddy,” you say, “Am I better than mom?”

“Mhm,” he mumbles. You could’ve said anything and you would’ve received the same response. You’re less a siren and more an angel. Your words mean nothing - it’s your gorgeous voice that pierces his body and drags out his soul. He bucks his hips, chasing his high, but you stop him.

“Tell me you love me.”

“I love you.”

“Say it like you mean it.” Your voice isn’t stern, it quivers. You’re begging him. You need him to mean it.

“I do mean it. I love you, baby, more than anything.” While you’re overcome with uncertainty - your faith in Leon’s words ebbs and flows - Leon sees the opening, and he takes the risk of cupping your cheeks and bringing you into a kiss.

He whispers into your mouth. “I love you.”

You don’t respond verbally. You kiss him harder and quicken the movements of your hips. He knows what it means. I love you, too – and, I’ll let you cum.

So, he does. Thick white ropes paint Leon’s chest. While his mind is still foggy, and unconcerned about the mess, he grabs your hips and coaxes you to bring them closer to his face. With one thigh on each side of his head, he meets your eyes, and says, “I’m gonna make you cum like this” before burying his face in your pussy.

Leon’s tongue, especially like this, when he’s lost all inhibitions, leaves you weak in the knees. You’re trembling and Leon’s iron grip on your thighs is your only anchor. The word ‘daddy’ is the only comprehensible thing that leaves your mouth.

Leon’s mumbles are muffled by your cunt, but you know that he’s telling you how good you taste and how much he loves it when you sit on his face. He’s predictable.

He pulls back for a moment, just enough to make his words coherent. “Daddy loves you so much, baby,” he coos. He knows it’s the one thing that makes you unravel. You tug on his hair and bring him back to your core, and he immediately latches onto your clit. You hear his words echo in your mind and it takes you over the edge. You tell him you love him too, loudly and equally true.

You disregard the fact that Leon is still sticky and in dire need of a shower, and you flop down on top of him, passing out in your mutual release. You sleep blissfully in the mess you’ve made.

[lazycats-stuff]

Batfam x M reader hwere the reader is Bruce's older brother, who decided to move away from Gotham after a really big fight between him and Bruce (before Dick was adopted) Bruce wanted to reach out, but never really did because he thought the reader hated him. At some point the reader decided to come back to Gotham and meet with Bruce because he got married and had a kid, but his partner died and he needed support + his kid wanted to know about their uncle. Now total shock on the batfam part because they have an uncle??? And Bruce didn't tell them??? Now they try to build a relationship, but Bruce is still a bit distant because he feels guilty

Oh, this screams angst and fluff at the same time, aaah. Also, 1.5k followers, thank you everyone. My questionable writing is nice and good it seems.

Summary: Bruce's and (Y/N)'s relationship broke down. (Y/N) reaches out.

Warnings: fluff, angst and all in between.

(Y/N) wiped his tears yet again. He lost his husband a month or so ago and it wasn't easy by any means. They had adopted a little girl a few years ago and they named her Anna. She is an adorable little girl and a smart one too. But kids are always perceptive in certain ways. (Y/N) put the photos of his husband down and turned to the little patter of feet coming towards him.

He turned to his little girl, putting her in his lap while they sat on the couch quietly. (Y/N) smiled at his daughter, but just that made him hurt. But he needed to be strong for his little girl. She needed a strong parent right now, more than anything in the world. That was something that she needed.

Not weakness. Anna was hurting too and she needed nothing but support... But (Y/N) needs his support too. He needs someone to turn too. He can only be strong for so long. And not to mention, there were so many bills to pay and he didn't know how... Oh dear God.

" Hey honey, can't sleep? " (Y/N) asked his daughter, who nodded yawning.

" Yeah... I miss papa. " She said quietly and (Y/N) took everything in him to not break down in front of his daughter.

" I miss papa too honey. "

" Can you tell me more about uncle Bruce? " Anna asked in her innocent childlike way, not knowing how complex the situation was. (Y/N) didn't blame her in the slightest, wanting to know more about your family is something normal. Even though you are a child and adopted one too, wanting to know more makes (Y/N)'s heart even warmer.

" Well, your uncle Bruce is my younger brother. " (Y/N) started, smiling at his daughter, despite the pain he felt. Bruce was always a sore subject for him. Deep down inside he loved Bruce, but the fight they had broke that love. He adjusted his daughter in his arms and continued.

" He is brave, courageous. Annoying sometimes, but that's normal. Everyone is a little bit annoying sometimes. " (Y/N) said, making Anna giggle, for the first time in a few days.

" Why he never comes? " Anna asked and (Y/N)'s heart was hit with sorrow and pain.

" We don't like one another. Sometimes adults don't like each other and don't speak about it. " (Y/N) said and Anna tilted her head in wonder and curiosity.

" Why? "

" Adults are complex. Complicated. " (Y/N) explained and the little girl hummed, tilting her head.

" Really dad? "

" Yes love. " (Y/N) responds and she simply gets out of his lap to look at the pictures of her papa. She sighed quietly and glanced back at her dad.

" I want to meet uncle Bruce. " Anna stated and (Y/N)'s heart started beating faster and faster. He doesn't really want to. He doesn't want to open up those old wounds...

Would Bruce even want to meet her?

" I can try honey. " (Y/N) swallowed and Anna's smile was worth it. Really worth the anxiety and the stress he is about to go through. And maybe he needs family in this situation.

Support sounds great right now.

" Thank you dad. " Anna said and left to go back to her room. (Y/N) smiled. Bruce would love her.

But (Y/N) isn't going to like this.

That next morning, Anna went to kindergarten and (Y/N) has decided to call Bruce to set up a meeting. He can't just come by unannounced, even though the manor is also his, he just can't. It would be rude, considering the fact that Bruce had four boys, one biological it seems.

And Bruce took over the Wayne Enterprises too, so he must be busy. And being Batman too is not an easy feat. But around 10 am, (Y/N) called Bruce, nervous and anxious beyond belief. This is not something he would have done if it weren't for the fact that his daughter asked him too.

" (Y/N)? " It rang out in (Y/N)'s ear and (Y/N) took a deep breath.

" Yes, it's me B. " (Y/N) answered, using an old nickname from their childhood.

" It has been what, 5 years... " Bruce hesitated and (Y/N) let out a little yeah in response.

" How is life? " Bruce asked and (Y/N) teared up for a second before calming down.

" My husband passed away recently. " (Y/N) said and the silence was loud.

" I'm sorry to hear that... I didn't know you got married... " Bruce said and (Y/N) winced quietly.

" Yeah... It was small. We also adopted a little girl. " (Y/N) said and he swore he heard a deep breath on the other side.

" A nice change. " Bruce said and (Y/N) chuckled. A joke about the fact that Bruce has all boys... It's nice to joke around.

" And Anna wants to meet her uncle Bruce. "

" You talked to her about me? "

" Yup. She was curious. " (Y/N) answered and Bruce chuckled again. " And I need help... I feel like I'm drowning. " (Y/N) said, wiping his tears.

" What do you mean? " Bruce asked, wanting more explanation.

" I'm drowning in bills and I need some emotional support. And I don't want to seem like I'm calling for money, but- " (Y/N) started rambling, but Bruce cut him off.

" Don't. I know you didn't call for money. Besides, that's your money too. "

" Well, I lived humbly for so long, I forgot I was rich I guess. " (Y/N) chuckled quietly, sitting down on the couch in the process.

" I guess so... If you need help, I'll... I'll be more than happy to help. " Bruce offered, but (Y/N) sensed something more. But none the less, he decided to leave it be for now. " You can even move back with Anna. You know the manor has more than enough room. " Bruce offered and (Y/N) hesitated.

" Well... I would have to move Anna's kindergarten... And all that stuff." (Y/N) started and Bruce cur him off yet again.

" Don't worry about that now. You and your daughter need to have a stable environment. So drop by the manor. You can meet your nephews too. "

" It wouldn't be a bad idea. "

And that's how (Y/N) and Anna went to the Wayne Manor, the little girl being excited in the backseat of the car. She let out a sound of pure surprise when she saw the manor in it's full glory. " This is where uncle Bruce lives?! " She yelled and (Y/N) chuckled as he parked the car inside the manor yard.

" Is it true I have cousins? " She asked as (Y/N) quickly left the car and then moved to unbuckle her. She quickly ran out and (Y/N) sighed.

" Not so fast young lady! " (Y/N) yelled after her and the girl stopped, smiling at her dad, taking his hand as they walked up to the door. (Y/N) rang the bell, waiting for Alfred to open up. Oh God, this is weird to be here yet again after these 5 years.

Alfred quickly opened up with a smile and gave (Y/N) a tight hug.

" Oh I missed you master (Y/N). " Alfred said and (Y/N) nodded.

" You talk funny. " Anna said and Alfred chuckled, leaning down to look at the little girl.

" That's right, I do. Now come on miss, lets meet your cousins. " He said as he led the little girl inside, who was giggling happily. (Y/N) took a deep breath to compose himself before entering the manor, the place where his life started and changed so many times. He walked inside, breath hitching at the sight of his nephews, both adopted three and one biological, who looked just liked Bruce at that age...

It's just eerie...

He was caught off guard by a sudden hug from the oldest son by the looks of it. (Y/N) huffed from the force, but patted the back of the oldest son.

" I'm Dick, nice to meet you. " Dick said once he pulled away, a big smile on his face as he was shaking his hand with a firm shake.

" (Y/N), nice to meet you too. " (Y/N) said quietly, quickly glancing at Anna who was talking to Bruce quietly. Bruce seemed gentle with her and that's more than enough to ease his heart.

" I'm Tim. " Tim introduced himself to his uncle and (Y/N) noted to himself how tired Time looked, but maybe it's due to the fact that he was a vigilante. But something else was off, but that's something for another time.

" Jason... How come Bruce never told us about you? " Jason asked and (Y/N) shrugged his shoulders.

" We... Didn't end up on a good note... I guess guilt and anger. " (Y/N) says and Bruce listened from his spot with Anna, who was just talking away.

Jason hummed and moved to allow Damian to say hello to his blood uncle.

" Uncle. You look different than I imagined. " Damian said in his voice and (Y/N) swore it really was Bruce at age...

" Damian. You are a copy of your father. " (Y/N) noted and glanced at his daughter for a second, seeing how Bruce was holding Anna in his arms.

" I know, I've been told that. " Damian responded shortly. Just like Bruce. Jesus. It's eerie beyond belief.

" Anna, do you like books? " Bruce asked her and she nodded happily. Bruce turned to (Y/N) and his boys. " Can the boys take her to the library? " Bruce asked and (Y/N) knew that they had to talk about their relationship. What to do now and all that.

" Sure. " (Y/N) said and the boys, including Alfred, led the little girl to the library. She was so happy, just giggling, not even a sense of her father's turmoil.

" Can we go outside? I need a smoke. " (Y/N) said, taking his pack out already. Bruce simply opened the terrace door that lead to the garden, where they sat down.

(Y/N) lit up his cigarette and took a long drag, trying to ease his nerves. He let the smoke out and glanced at Bruce.

" This is weird... "

" I know. Look, you can always come back home. " Bruce said dryly and (Y/N) noticed the distance. Noticed the look.

" Look... We were stupid to fight like that... And you are not to blame... I am to blame too... " (Y/N) said as he took a long drag.

" No, it was me. All on me. " Bruce said, looking at the garden ahead, refusing to look at his brother from guilt.

" Don't say that... I think we need to repair our relationship. For your boys and for my daughter. And us too. I do miss my little annoying brother. "

Bruce didn't respond and just sighed.

" Don't blame yourself. " (Y/N) said as he blew the smoke yet again. " Do you want me to move back? Anna would like that. And it would make things easier for me too. " (Y/N) said quietly, finishing his cigarette in the ashtray.

" Don't be distant Bruce. "

Bruce sighed yet again. It was hard not to be distant in this situation. Especially when you think you are at fault for the fight.

" I would love to meet my niece more and try to be that fun uncle. I want to take some of your stress too. Some burdens off too. " Bruce said, still looking away.

He couldn't even look (Y/N) in the eyes.

(Y/N) just sighed. They really had a long way to go.

[nickfowlerrr]

can you feel it?

pairing: bucky barnes x curvy!reader (soulmate au)

warnings: really nothing but fluff. mentions of light baking burns. lmk if something needs to be tagged.

words: 2.3k

notes: this is my entry for @lunarbuck’s soulmate challenge. i used the prompt: you cannot feel pain until you meet your soulmate.🩵 and thank you to @dreamlandcreations for beta reading/editing my first draft!

Mmm, you hummed mindlessly. 

The sweet, warm aroma of your latest batch of pumpkin chocolate chip cookies swirled through your small bakery, filling your nose and eliciting a smile from you as you walked to the back counter, setting down the hot tray you were holding.

You slid off the oven mit you wore and tossed it carelessly before you spun around to get the last tray of dough in the oven.

Your fingers brushed the hot grate of the oven as you slipped the tray in, and though you couldn’t feel the pain or burn of it, you still mentally chided yourself for not being more careful. 

It was mid-September, that time of year when summer was still the season, but fall was all around. 

You had been messing with some seasonal recipes for the past few days and had most of your impending fall lineup set. You were going to start slow with the roll out, and today was the first day you’d have these cookies out in the display. 

You were a bit overly excited, but you hadn’t been able to shake the feeling that today would be a great day since you’d gotten up. Even Nickie calling to let you know she’d be late for her shift hadn’t dampened your mood. 

You sipped from the straw of your cold brew, floating aimlessly around the quaint space while you were waiting for the cookies to cool, the oven to go off, or a customer to walk in. You’d swept the floor and cleaned the counters and tables a good three times now despite their already pristine state. It was a slow day, but you knew not to expect many people until after noon.

You eventually found yourself staring out the large glass window at the front of the shop, looking out onto the picturesque town street, watching the few passersby and the leaves that were blowing around; the branches of the trees that lined the streets swaying gently in the late summer breeze. 

You weren’t sure why, but as you stood there gazing out the window, you suddenly found yourself growing eager, a sense of excitement coming over you. You felt like you were waiting for something…someone.

Just as the feelings were put into words in your mind, the ringing of the entrance bell sounded and pulled you from your thoughts. You tutted quietly at yourself before you turned and went to greet whoever it was.

You stopped short on your hello when you saw Nickie pulling off her cardigan.

“Well, look who finally decided to show up,” you said with a teasing smirk and a raised brow.

Nicki smiled guiltily, “Sorry,” she offered through a nervous titter, “Eli’s alarm didn’t go off, so we were both scrambling this morning.”

“Don’t worry about it,” you brushed off her apology, “it’s been pretty quiet so far.”

“It smells amazing in here, did you make the pumpkin cookies?”

“Last batch is in the oven right now,” you nodded with a grin. “There’s some in the display case already, grab one, tell me what you think,” you said, walking over to meet her behind the counter.

You grasped your hands together while you leaned against the side of the register, anxious to get her thoughts.

Nickie grabbed a cookie and just as she was about to take a bite, the bell on the door rang again. You turned, smiling to offer your usual, “Hello, welcome in!”, but your voice caught in your throat when you did, only managing out a half hello.

Your eyes met steel blue as the man who had just entered stalled in his path for a brief second. He blinked then and seemed to correct his posture, clearing his throat, eyes never leaving yours, “Hi,” he offered.

“Welcome in,” you breathed, voice much quieter than you intended it to be.

You couldn't seem to take your eyes off of him as he approached the counter. He was tall, well built with dark hair, and god, those eyes. You could swim in them, they were so blue. He looked effortlessly cool, wearing a dark canvas jacket with the collar popped ever so slightly over a plain charcoal henley, his black jeans and boots completing the outfit as a chain of silver showed a bit from above his shirt collar. The dark color scheme worked well for the weather and for his features. The blue of his eyes even more emphasized by the color of his clothing. His jaw was square and sharp, and the structure of his cheekbones brought attention to the bags under his eyes. But they, along with his five o’clock shadow, only added to his aesthetic. You wondered if he knew that, if he was aware. You’d seen many a man who wore the same style, but it was so clearly put on. This seemed to be very him. Not that you knew him, of course, but still it was evident. 

It occurred to you though, as cool as he seemed, there was the tiniest bit of pink coloring his cheeks as he slyly rubbed his neck, before he finally stood before you, that betrayed his air of cool.

Nickie looked between the two of you with a quirked brow as you began taking the man’s order.

Your fingers twiddled over the screen in your nervousness while he looked over the menu, musing aloud before he moved to walk the display case. 

“What’s your favorite?” he asked, a wave of self assurance growing over him as he casually shoved his hands in his pockets, turning to watch you as you forced your own hands to still before standing up a bit straighter at the question. It was innocent enough, despite the smoothness of his words and the smile that played on the corner of his lips as he recognized your fidgeting for what it is - your own nerves bounding around you. 

“Oh, um,” you took a breath, thinking for a second, “I’m pretty partial to the classics, actually,” you said with a small smile, moving down a bit to be closer to where he stood, a bit of your own self assurance coming over you in turn. “The pink sugar cookie and the chocolate chip are probably the biggest sellers, too. But, in my humble opinion, you really can’t go wrong with whatever you choose.”

He smiled at you as you let your own gaze drift down to the case of treats before you.

“If you want to try anything, we do samples, so-” you were about to start rambling when the oven went off, both of you looking over at the sound.

“I’ll get it,” Nickie called from the small kitchen, just past the back counter, where she had gone to eat her cookie.

You turned back to the man and were met with his eyes already on you, both of your brows raising in quiet surprise. He was closer to you now than he was a moment again, and you tittered. You couldn’t fight the small smile that cracked on your face, and he returned a soft one of his own.

“Did you wanna-” you were cut off by Nickie as she looked around, growing a little frantic.

“Do you know where the oven mit is?”

“Oh, I had it..” you tried to think where it could have landed when you’d tossed it earlier, making a face as you came up empty, moving to search the area with her. “Ahhh. I don’t.. Damn,” you breathed.

You took another quick glance around before you moved to the oven. You really didn’t want them to burn.

“I’ll just grab it really fast,” you told Nickie as you pulled the oven door open.

She cringed at the thought, “I know you can’t feel it, but still, you shouldn’t do that,” she warned.

“I’ll be fine,” you assured her, “I’ll put them down super quick, can you just clear the counter and then we’ll move them to the rack in a minute.”

You could feel the man’s eyes on you still, and as you reached to grab the tray, you turned to speak to him, “Sorry. If you want to try anything, just let me know.”

As you were turning and talking, you blindly grabbed the tray. 

It took a second for it to hit you but then all at once you felt the burn. 

You quickly let go, pulling your hand back with a harsh gasp before you could get the cookies out. You grasped onto your wrist out of instinct as the pain burned through you.

“Fuck,” you cursed as you gripped your hand. 

“Are you okay?” both the man and Nickie asked in unison, watching you with concern. 

You flicked your eyes up to the man before looking over at Nickie. 

“It.. it hurts,” you said, confused by the fact that you felt it at all, and yet knowing full well what that had to mean.

“Oh,” she breathed in response, her gaze flicking over to the man still standing at the counter, but getting closer, all the while keeping his eyes on you. She blinked, eyes rounding slightly as she looked at you once more, “I’ll get a towel or something.”

She rushed away while you groaned softly. Both at the stinging burn and the fact that your cookies were definitely getting too baked.

“Just grab whatever will work,” you called to her, “they’re gonna burn if we leave them any longer.”

“I can grab them for you,” the man offered as he approached you, coming around the counter to where you were. “I uh, I haven’t met my soulmate, so…” he seemed a little embarrassed by the confession as you stared at him dumbly. 

Your mind was racing with all the things you wanted to say to him, but your tongue was refusing to move as you stood there holding your hand.

He stepped closer, and it seemed he was waiting for your permission as he nodded to the oven. You looked at him and then to the tray of cookies waiting to be taken out. You took a step back and gave him room to get to the tray. A part of you wanted to warn him that you’d thought the same thing when you’d grabbed it, only to be proven wrong, but another wanted to confirm that... that it was him.

You watched intently as he reached into the oven. It felt like he was moving in slow motion while you waited for his hand to make contact with the metal tray.

He grasped it and his forehead creased, brows furrowing as he quickly moved from the oven to drop it onto the back counter. You were holding your breath and almost deflated until you realized he was cursing under his when he was holding the tray.

“Shit,” he cursed once more, shaking out his hand, his brows still drawn together. You were staring at him with rounded eyes as you continued clutching your own burn.

You offered him your name and you stepped closer, your voice making him lift his gaze from examining the burn on his hand, up to you.

His brilliant eyes seemed to twinkle in understanding as he met your own. He breathed a smile, mirroring your movements and taking a step to you in turn.

“James. You can call me Bucky,” he simpered.

“Bucky,” you nodded as your lips curled into a soft smile of your own. “Thank you, for saving the cookies,” you offered.

“You’re welcome. Should maybe invest in some more oven mitts, though,” he joked with a mirthful smirk playing on his lips.

“I should,” you agreed with a nod and a light laugh. “Sorry about your hand.. I uhm, I have a first aid kit in the back,” you gestured with your head, “burn cream included.”

“That’d be good,” he said, “and you have nothing to be sorry about, I offered,” he continued, trailing you to the back. Nickie passed you sheepishly, though she gave you a small, knowing smile as she went to watch the front.

You swallowed hard and cleared your throat of your nerves as you worked to collect yourself, gathering your bearings with this turn of events.

“So... Bucky, huh?” you said as you grabbed the stuff you needed from the kit and watched him lean against the empty counter. You walked back over to him as he waited for you.

“Yeah. It’s uh,” he stifled a small hiss as you smeared some ointment onto his burn, gently holding his hand as you did. There was something about the soft touch that you couldn’t quite explain. The way it makes you feel, something you’ve never felt before. It wasn’t like the pain, it was more like a comfort, but still it was new. “It’s usually reserved for friends...family, but I think soulmate fits in there, too,” he smiled charmingly at you before taking the tube of cream from your hand. “Unless you like James more,” he offered, “honestly, I’d probably answer to whatever you wanted to call me,” he flirted easily.

You held your breath at the touch, and let out a soft titter at his words, a spark stemming from his hold as you let him put some ointment on your small burn. 

“I think I’ll go with Bucky for now,” you smiled, meeting his brilliant blue gaze.

“So I- I’m not too sure how this goes…” he started, a self-deprecating smile sitting crooked on his lips while he let go of your hand, somewhat reluctantly, once he was done with the cream, setting the tube on the counter before looking back at you, “but I was thinking we could start with dinner.”

There was a twinkle in his eye again, hope shining through, and you were sure your gaze held much the same as you waited for him to ask. “Are you free tonight?”

[moonstruckme]

Hiiiii:333

I was thinking about James (or poly!marauders I’m not picky) during the readers first time but she’s tense so it hurts when they put anything in:3

Ilyyyyy

Thanks for requesting!

cw: smut mdni, inexperienced reader, p in v, pain from sex

James Potter x fem!reader ♡ 845 words

“Sweetheart,” James’ lips ghost over your collarbone, “you’ve gotta breathe.” 

“I’m trying,” you say, but the tension in your voice is audible. You let some air out of your lungs, and it’s a manual effort. 

“We don’t have to go through with this,” he reminds you. His fingers are sticky where he holds your side, lifting his head to see your face. “But if you want to, you’re gonna have to relax.” 

You take another deep breath, nodding. Try to make your muscles go lax and moldable. James sweeps his thumb over your ribs encouragingly. 

“Okay,” you say, “I’m ready.” 

He’s gentle as he sets about kissing your shoulder again, hand a weighty reassurance on your side, but when his length prods at your entrance again, you clench instinctively. His little sigh is so soft you know you’re not meant to hear it. 

“Just keep going,” you tell him. 

“Angel, I don’t want to hurt you.” 

“It’s fine.” You bolster yourself, doing your best to loosen up despite the fizzing anxiety in your gut. “I think it’ll be easier once it’s over with. Like, easier for me not to worry.” 

James raises his face from your shoulder, looking at you steadily. You try to appear sure of yourself. James has already worked two orgasms out of you, getting you sopping and open and ready, and it’s not that you feel you need to give him anything in return for those efforts—he’s made it more than clear he’d happily fuck you with his fingers forever—but you want it to have built to something. You’ve wanted to feel him inside of you since the very first time you saw all of him, and now that he’s got you worked open there shouldn’t be anything more holding you back. It’s down to a mental block. 

James seems to find whatever he’s looking for in your expression. 

“We’re going to start slow,” he says, and there’s a firmness to his voice that, admittedly, helps. Your cunt pulses. “You’re going to tell me if it’s too much, okay?” 

You nod, wrapping your fingers more tightly around the bedsheets and breathing in and out. James leans down close again, and you set your other hand on his shoulder as he begins suckling at your neck. You try to keep breathing when you feel him lining up, but it’s still a shock when he pushes in. 

You make a small sound, more pleasure mixed in with the pain than you were anticipating. Your nails bite into his shoulder. 

“You’ve got it,” James murmurs, pressing wet, soothing kisses up the side of your neck to your jaw. He’s speaking nearly into your ear. “You did it, angel. Did so well.” 

“Sorry.” You retract your nails from his shoulder, pressing your fingertips over the indentations and kissing at what you can reach—his hair. He moves closer obligingly, letting you at his lips. “Sorry, baby,” you say between pecks. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.” 

“Eh.” You feel his lips curve against yours, and you kiss the corner desperately, suddenly overwhelmed by nerves and relief and caring. “Eye for an eye.” 

A laugh bubbles out of you, and James’ smile broadens as you pull away, shaking your head. “Hardly fair,” you point out. “I asked for mine.” 

“How’s it feel?” he asks. Something you love about James is how you can always see what he’s really saying in his eyes. He’s so wide open and honest, it’s like he never learned another way to be. Now, even though he’s smiling, there’s not a lick of humor or flirting in the rich brown of his eyes. He’s totally sincere. “Want to just stay like this for a bit, get used to it?” 

You shift your hips experimentally, adjusting to the feel of him inside you. It’s a substantial intrusion, but you find you want more. If only to see what it’s like. 

“Can you keep going?” you ask, taking the hand that’s planted by your head and intertwining his fingers with yours. 

“You sure?” 

“Please.” 

That’s always the magic word where James is concerned. He sinks into you slowly, covering your mouth with his to swallow your little sounds and pushing you into the mattress. You feel a new kind of stretch in your walls, something even James’ thick fingers hadn’t been able to prepare you for, but it’s not unpleasant. You squeeze his hand encouragingly.

James gets bolder, free hand migrating from your side to grope at your tit. He pushes and pinches at it while sucking lazily on your bottom lip, and the heat in your core, brought down to a simmer by your nerves, revives. You kiss up at him eagerly, devouring the low, pleased humming sound he makes into your mouth. 

“Doing better?” 

You nod urgently, breaths coming quick and desperate as he squeezes your tit in his big hand. You look into his eyes, and the love is clear as day. 

“Good,” he murmurs, kissing underneath your eye. “You’re doing so good, sweetheart. I’ll get you there, just stay with me.”

[muzansfangs]

Hiii! May I request some hc of the reader cockwarming Muzan during a video call with her parents?😎

Cock-warming Muzan during a video call with your parents.

Starring: Muzan x f!reader.

Warnings: nsfw, unprotected sex, slightly choking spanking, vaginal sex, oral sex (Muzan receiving).

Format: headcanons.

Plot: Craving your revenge on your husband for having forgotten about your dinner out yesterday, you came up with a perfect plan to make him pay for his sins. Once he came back from a tiring day at work, you allured him into your trap and forced him to endure a real ‘physical torture’ during a video call with your parents. Were you ready to face the consequences of your actions, though?

﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

• Unaware of what was yet to come, your husband groaned softly at the way your tongue swirled around the tip of his leaking cock. His fingers were tangled in your hair, his head lolled back on the headrest of his leather armchair. You truly knew how to help him steam off some stress after a long, tiring day at work.

• Well, of course you did. You were enjoying yourself too, after all. Yet, this was not going to last long. Despite your hunger for him and your devotion in satisfying your husband’s needs, giving Muzan a blow job was just a part of your devious plan. Muzan Kibutsuji was not going to get his release tonight, he was going to endure so much frustration and physical pain he would have thought twice the next time, before ‘forgetting’ about another important dinner with you.

• You glanced up at him as he yanked your hair back, his plum red eyes meeting yours in a lustful glare “Ride me” he demanded, watching the way you suavely stood up from between his knees and quickly unzipped your skirt, letting it pool down at your feet.

• Muzan loved watching you strip for him. The power he had over you, the way you always obediently left the items fall on the floor one by one was enticing. He loved seeing you bouncing up and down his cock, feeling your mouth hovering over his one sinfully, as you thought you were the one in control. He found it amusing the way you always tried to break him, but never really succeeded in it.

• If only he knew how the tables were about to turn…

• You bit your lower lip softly, your panties following the destiny of your skirt and landing on the floor as you leant down towards Muzan. You captured his lips in a tender, yet passionate kiss “Your wish is my command” you whispered then, before turning your back at him and lowering yourself onto his erected, throbbing member. Muzan moaned softly, his hands gripping your hips tightly as your walls clamped down on him.

• “Fuck— Feisty, aren’t we? – he breathed out, sitting up and pressing his still covered chest against your back – I did not expect a reverse cowgirl today, but I’m not complaining” he chortled, his mouth latching onto the left side of your neck as you stared at the pc awaiting for the incoming video call from your parents.

• “I feel experimental, babe… – you sneered, rolling your hips even so slightly to elicit one of his guttural, erotic groans from him – I promise you are going to enjoy it”.

• Muzan hummed, his hot breath fanning your earlobe as he snapped his hips up abruptly, making a high-pitched moan to erupt from your throat “Fucking start to ride me like the bitch in heat you are, darling” he hoarsely said, only to narrow his eyes at the pc as the Skype ringtone spread through the room.

• Now, Muzan was one hundred percent sure you were going to ignore the call. Your parents would have understood anyway, thus he chuckled and wrapped one hand around your throat “Ah, imagine your father’s face, if he saw the lewd faces you’re about to make…” he stated, a smug smile plastered over his face.

• Poor Muzan.

• “Mmm, you better not do that because I really have to answer. Face the camera, Mr. Kibutsuji” you whined, right before dragging your finger on the cursor and answering the call.

• Muzan.exe stopped working. His mouth agape, his expression blank as the cheerful faces of your parents appeared on the screen. How dare you? That was what betrayal felt like.

• “Hi mom! Hi daddy!” you greeted your parents, waving your hand at them as if you were not stuffed with the twitching, hard cock of your husband.

• Muzan gulped down nervously, his hand squeezing your hip harshly as if he wanted you to know that you had royally screwed up. However, you were going to give him a very hard time in speaking to them. After all, he deserved it, right? Therefore, you rolled your hips slowly, pretending you were just shifting your position. Muzan stiffened, a groan almost erupting from his throat “Good evening, Mrs and Mr. L/N” he rasped, faking cough to mask the pleasure engulfing his lower abdomen.

• Sweat ran down his back as he was forced to strike up a conversation with your parents. Why did you do that? Why were you punishing him?

• Then your mother spoke and he froze solid, reality dawning on him as a cold shower. His cock almost softened, but you promptly shifted again and he had to clasp his hand over his mouth to fake another stupid coughing fit “How was your dinner yesterday?”.

• “Aww, unfortunately, we had to call it down… — you pouted, planting a kiss on your husband cheekbone, shifting slighty on your seat – As you can see, Muzan is not at his best!”.

• “I wonder why” Muzan almost growled, as his hand slided down towards your clit. Well, if you were going to be a pain in the ass, he was too. As he started rubbing figures eight on your bundle of nerves, careful not to let your parents get a hint of what was going on, your cheeks heated up and you knew you were toasted by the dangerous glint in Muzan’s eyes.

• Long story short, you made up an excuse and ended the call. But, as soon as you did, Muzan lost his temper.

• You did not even had enough time to realize what was happening that you found yourself bent over the desk, Muzan’s hand spanking your ass a few times in a row, before he leant down towards your ear “What the fuck was that, huh? Acting all bitchy for a dinner? Ah, you must be starving! I’ll give you a wholesome meal you’re not going to regret, dear. Daddy is going to take care of you”. With that, he pulled out of you only to pick a feral pace.

• Spoiler Alert: you could not even walk to the bed on your legs, once he was done with you.

AUTHOR NOTE.

Hello there! My my, I got a little carried away I think… I’M NOT SORRY THOUGH. I’m a whore for Muzan, but y’all know it already. I hope you have enjoyed this one as much as I did!

Tag: @tired-writer04 because we got a kink for him. Send help, guys💀❤️

[honestsycrets]

Hey! if your requests are open can you do a drabble where the spider society meets Miguel's and readers baby for the first time? like they show up with her one day where the sitter couldn't make it or something and it's so wild to see Miguel be so soft with her

❛ summary | Miguel doesn't feel secure letting anyone watch his daughter-- not even Peter. or, gwen tries to hold miguel's daughter for the first time.

❛ sy's notes | slightly different than the request above but still in the same vein.

❛ tags | reader and child from starved, family piece, some angst, some sweetness, reference to loss of child, mention of pregnancy.

He just had to do it. 

Despite the fact that Miguel knew everything about his body being amped up, he missed how it felt. In his rush to have sex, he didn’t consider the possibility that you could have been ovulating. That the temporary amenorrhea wouldn’t last. It was his miscalculation. A miscalculation resulted in Mireya’s presence in his lab, chewing on his knuckle as some poor substitute for a teething toy. 

“Ay chingado, where is that pinche--” he huffed under his breath, rummaging around his cluttered desk for the damn toy. Mireya pinched down on his finger again with those bright brown eyes, twinkling with mischievous curiosity for why her papi was cussing again. His claw popped forth, drawing a fantastic giggle careening from her lips. Miguel retracted them again, shaking his hand out at his side. “Are those fangs or teeth in there, mija, hm?” 

“That’s cute.” 

In his preoccupation with his daughter, he hadn’t necessarily heard the pitter-patter of feet behind him. Despite what everyone might think, Miguel doesn’t like visitors in his lab. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, realizing that it was Gwen in the lab. Great, he expelled a great puff of air. Wherever Gwen was, Jess or Peter never seemed to be too far behind. 

“What is?” 

“Mireya,” she bounced forward, hands behind her back, inspecting Mireya with a twinge of a smile. It grew on her lips, just a little. She flicked her index finger, making a point that he really didn’t feel like hearing. “And you too. I mean, even if you cuss a little at her. You’re so soft with her.”

“Enjoy the sight while it lasts.” Miguel bit out, drawing into a little sigh as he cradles his daughter close. “But I’m not cussing at her, I’m looking for her teething chew-- which is not my finger, Mireya.”

She bites down on his palm. Miguel’s face screws up in annoyance, rather than pain, settling a small kiss on the top of her head. Her soft baby curls tickle his lips. He turns back to his panels, inspecting the anomaly he had been tracking all afternoon. She bites him again.

“Wherever that thing went, carajo! Lyla, ¿dónde está?!” He forgot that his daughter had a low tolerance for his outbursts. Unlike Gwen, Peter, or even you, Miguel was usually well aware of his rising volume. Gwen held up her palms.

“No, mi vida, no, I’m sorry,” Mireya’s lower lip quivered, revving up in another sharp cry that Miguel hardly had the patience for. Her cry burst free, causing Miguel to tear away from Gwen, sliding Mireya onto his broad shoulder. He pats her back gently. “Is there a reason you’re here?” 

“Your wife sent me to help you. I’d… I’d really like to hold her. I mean. If you’re willing.” 

"¿Qué?" Miguel hissed, hiding the flash of displeasure that ripped across his face. Of course, you sent a teenage kid to come take a daughter from him! Why wouldn’t you? No way in hell— he took a step away, the sharpest way he could say no. Almost a year old and still Gwen had not held her. 

“She shouldn’t have. I don’t need help.”  

“She said you’d say that,” Gwen tippy-toed up to Miguel’s shoulder, peeping at Mireya’s big brown eyes. She screwed them shut, burning through another red-hot wail of pain. If Gwen didn't leave him alone--

“What exactly did she say?”

“Mireya’s teething and Miguel has a bad temper.” 

A bad temper, she said. Miguel scrunched up his nose. 

“Tch. Of course, I never would have guessed.” 

He heard another set of feet. Two, actually. He expected to see Peter’s too-happy smile beaming at him like an aggravating ray of morning light. He didn’t, however, expect your eyes to stare right back at him. Your voice cut right through Mireya’s inconsolable cries. 

“Miggy, are you giving Gwen a hard time?” 

He chewed on his words, using his foot to roll his chair out from his desk. You hopped onto the platform with Peter’s aid, a task on its own with your swollen belly behind a deep blue gown. Mireya’s sharp cries fizzled out into little chirps, somehow pleased with your presence. Miguel, however, was not. 

“There’s my girl!” Peter slapped his hands together, rushing forward when you were secure on the platform. Peter couldn’t help himself, even amid a fight. She bounced on Miguel’s shoulder, palms extended, squeezing and releasing. Why did she have to love Peter? “Hi, Mireya!” 

“No. You should be resting,” Miguel pointed toward his chair. You didn’t fight him on it, sliding into it with your hand under your belly to support the child that brewed in your stomach. He couldn’t help but feel a string of guilt for the exhaustion that was so easily apparent on your face. It’s why he took her-- in the hope that you would sleep. 

“I would if I knew you would take the help.” 

Peter swerved around Gwen, peering over Miguel’s shoulder at her squishy little body in double the glee the little girl looked at him with.

“I don’t need help.” 

“Lyla says you do,” you tilted back in the chair, folding your arms just under your swollen chest. Miguel threw another curse under his breath. The AI who mysteriously was not listening to any of his commands. “And if Lyla says you do, then you do.” 

He could have fought you but as fate would have it, you were close to pushing out another child of his. He glared at the glittering stone of your ring on your finger and relented, his head bobbing into a complacent nod. As per usual, you won.

“Fine, por hoy,” he said with a heavy breath, turning over to face Gwen. She cracked a nervous smile as he leaned in, settling Mireya in her arms. Gwen’s big eyes snapped down to the little girl, insecurity trickling from her person. Miguel picked up on it like blood pouring into a cup of water. “If you hurt her, I’ll—“

“Miguel, no threats.”

He cursed. 

“Now that that’s settled,” Peter ran his hands together, swiping up the chew toy that Miguel had been looking for. He obnoxiously slid Mireya out of Gwen’s arms,  the only person that Miguel would allow his daughter to be held by without standing threats. “Come to Uncle Peter! We can go get ice cream with Hobie and Pavitr, just you and me and Gwen!"

Hobie and Pavitr? He never--

“Tio Peter,” Gwen corrected, stroking her upper arm nervously. 

“Tio Peter."

Miguel couldn’t help but watch the pair slip away-- talking about things like ice cream for toothaches, park dates, and fun as they slipped into a portal. You caught Miguel’s hand, stopping him from jerking to snatch her back up. 

“She’s safe with them,” It itched-- it itched all over. The terrible feeling that no, his Mireya was not safe with Peter, or Gwen, or Jess, or anyone else that wasn’t him. If even him. You stood up. “Miguel, Miguel no--” 

He snapped to the monitor, drawing forth Gwen and Peter, his hand at his lip. Your stomach pressed into his back. His third-- no second-- child. His hand fell to your arms that intertwined around his muscular midsection. “She’s almost one. We talked about this. You said Peter was the only one you’d trust to watch her.” 

“Almost one,” he laughed it off, his hand falling away from his lips. “She could be forty and I would still worry.”

“You don’t trust Peter?” 

“I don’t even trust myself.”  He threw you back a glance, an undercurrent of sadness flowed through the words.

“I do, mi amorcito,” You held him a little tighter, finding the words came as easily as the movements of the child in your belly against his back. Miguel bit back a small smile at the feeling, following Peter and Gwen choosing ice cream for his little girl. The door jingled with a bell-- Hobie and Pavitr strode in, because of course they did, it couldn't just be a quiet outing. Who was next? Miles? “And I trust Peter too.”

“I know you do.”

Vanilla? Cotton candy? Not the cotton candy. If they only knew. It’s strawberry. Mireya’s favorite is strawberry. Gabriella’s was vanilla. His shoulders relaxed, watching Peter present a small sample of strawberry to his little princesa. 

“Bueno,” he slid his hand on top of yours. “I could… go for an empanada. ¿Quieres ir conmigo?”

“Sí,” you beamed. “Let's go. Just you and me.”

It’s a strange feeling— being without his little girl. At least for today, he’s certain she’ll be okay. 

[brittle-doughie]

I wish to request something a little strange- So you have experimented with the idea of Cookie Cannibalism so maybe I was hoping you could just build on the idea. No morbid curiosity tho

(This ask was super weird, so you can ignore it if you want)

Bake It Till You Make It: Tasty Delights

It never hurts anyone to have a treat every now and then..also I updated the first part to my current format of posts

WARNINGS: Cookie Cannibalism

Running the shop doesn’t always have to be around the holidays. The Sugar Gnomes were generous enough to have you run the shop all winter long! If that was what made you and the cookies in the kingdom happy!

It had surely made the cookies happy alright! All day, every day has cookies coming in the high tens into your shop! They can never seem to get enough of the cakes and sweets offered here, you being the manager also had a hand in the amount of visits too.

But that was only half of the whole thing. The other half was the cookies being thankful enough to gift you their own sweets.

You never questioned their generosity, accepting the gifts with a smile. What was odd would be the cookies acting a little suspicious in terms of behavior or style of clothing, something that was a bit out of character for them.

Cookies like Crunchy Chip Cookie that are usually pretty tough are left trying to come up with an explanation for their insistence on you accepting their sweets, Crunchy especially since you recalled that sweets weren’t his thing. He practically pleaded for you to take it and eat it, he wanted to know if you liked his sweets. He wanted to know if you liked how it tasted…

And, in his head, if you liked how he tasted…

———————————————————————

Crunchy Chip yelled out as he cracked off a piece of his arm, a brief moment of pain that had take deep breath.

But in his mind, it would be worth it. To see you savor the taste of what he made despite the end result. To see you savor how he’d taste like.

It would be worth it…

———————————————————————

You thanked him as he left with his cake, sitting down at one of the tables as you started to eat his sweets. For someone who didn’t like them, Crunchy’s delights were pretty good! You continue taking a bite, and then another one, and then another…until it was all gone.

That really hit the spot as you sigh contently, leaning back in your chair…with the window behind you having a fixated Crunchy Chip watching intently before he hurried away.

———————————————————————

Mozzarella Cookie thought it would be pretty interesting of her to give you a mozzarella cheesecake. A very odd choice of ingredients, you even joked if she had placed a piece of her own mozzarella in it, something she giggled at.

What a silly thing to say!

———————————————————————

She wasted no time in gently removing pieces of her mozzarella hair to smoothly texture her cheesecake.

She’d know that you’ll like it, she’d kick herself if you didn’t. After all…

…an intriguing cookie like you only deserves an intriguing dessert~

———————————————————————

The amount of cookies coming in for some of his healings have been noticeably higher during this time of the year for Pure Vanilla Cookie. They’d come him, almost impatiently ask that he give them some healings to make them feel better before they’d hurried off for the day.

The changes in their outfits did not go unnoticed by the Ancient Cookie. Raspberry Cookie’s hair covering a portion of her face, Pastry Cookie wearing a sort of cloak to conceal her form, Clover Cookie missing tufts of hair…

They’d never want to answer any of his questions and just move along hastily…

He decided to come to you to see if you had any clue about this. He catches you just as you’re about to close up shop for today, a box that contained coral cake in your hands.

“Y/N Cookie! How are you, my friend?”

You greeted Pure Vanilla warmly as you two shared a hug. You asked him what brought him you.

“I was just worried about the number of cookies coming to see me to heal them. Do you know anything by any chance?”

Injured cookies? This was the first time you were hearing of this…

“It’s just that they never wish to tell me what was wrong with them. They’re always in a hurry to leave…”

This was pretty odd behavior…but you’d look into it whenever you can. You had to head back your place for today.

“Thank you, Y/N Cookie. I’ll help you in any way I can.”

You bid each other farewell as you head home, opening the box to take a bite of the cake, humming delightly as you savored the flavor.

As you reach home, you head to the fridge to put it away for later. You had to make room though, with a number of different sweets and foods already crowding your fridge, gifted by your Cookies.

———————————————————————

The utensils and ingredients were set, with instructions to make a cobbler.

The cookie was all to ready to get started…if not for one more ingredient to really make this cobbler special..

She can already picture it now. Seeing cookies crowding the shop, wanting their order to be taken first. She was stepping past the crowd to meet you at the counter

She presented her cobbler to you, wishing for you to have a taste!

You took a bite and you’d immediately be downing the whole dessert right there and then, excitement bubbling within herself at how much you liked it.

You’d tell her that you loved her cobbler with all of your being, you’d ask her…if she’d make more for you. She’d be all too eager to say yes! She will make more!

It would feel as if she had a connection with you more than the rest…

With these thoughts, the cookies giggled a little manically as she gets ready to crack off her lower arm…

White Lily is sure of herself that you’ll enjoy her dessert!

[fox-bee926]

Who did this?

Harvey Specter x fem!reader

Masterlist A/N: Wow another one? I'm going to do one more after this and then answer an ask and put all my harvey fics on one post. Then after that who knows. I have an awesome aragorn x reader fic I've been playing around with so I might work on that. Definitely going to try and do more one shots to improve my writing. I really enjoy it but depression makes it a tad hard. Anyways! Enjoy! TW: **This story focuses on the physical abuse between the Reader character and her boyfriend. I am not responsible for the content you consume so please be advised. There are explanations of abuse, but no explicit scenes of abuse occurring.** abuse (physical and emotional), hurt/comfort, Harvey being very sweet, mention of painkillers but I'm talking like 2 tylenol or ibuprofen or something Word Count: 2.5k

You run across the street to the Pearson Hardman office building, just about soaking wet. All that protected you from the rain was a newspaper you bought right outside your building. You prayed all the way to work that it wouldn’t just completely break under the force of the rain. You had spent almost thirty minutes on makeup, twenty five more minutes than you usually spend. To go along with that, you couldn’t find an available taxi because of the rain. Not even the pain in your shoulder had let up, despite taking a couple painkillers.

Your boyfriend had gotten a bit angry with you last night after you went out socializing with some friends. It wasn’t your smartest move. You knew he didn’t like you to hang out with your guy friends without his permission. But you didn’t think it was that big of a deal. The feelings of your heart conflicted with your rational mind. All you know is you love him and he loves you. Which is why he gets upset when you go out without him. But then why wouldn’t he make time to go out with me alone?

You shook those thoughts out of your head as you swiped your card into the building. You took the time in the elevator to dry off with your sweater. Which was consequently soaked. Curses rang out in the elevator- cursing the sweater, the weather, your boyfriend, you didn’t know.

You sat down in the chair next to Donna and exchanged greetings. “How are we looking today, Donna?” You smiled as you saw Harvey sitting in his office. The only person getting into the office earlier than him was Donna.

“Full day as always. Oh, Jonathan from accounting asked for Harvey to look at his expense accounts for this last month. He won’t of course- but as long as they get to Harvey’s desk, Jon won’t speak another word about it until the next thousand dollar dinner with a client.” Donna goes back to typing rapidly on her computer. 

“And then the cycle continues,” You let out a hearty laugh for the first time since you left work last Friday. “I’ll get on that. Anything else while I’m in accounting?” You gather up different file folders that you need to take down to accounting anyway.

“Nope, say hi to Mr. Expense Forms for me!”

“Will do, Donna.”

You quickly walk to the elevator and down to the accounting department for Jonathan's expense reports. Harvey is still in the same spot as he was when you left as you open the door to his office. You make sure to open the door with your left arm, with the papers in your right. 

“I got a delivery for Harvey Specter from Mr. Jonathan Expense Forms from accounting. Fuming as always. You might want to lay off the fancy dinners for a week.” Harvey rolls his eyes at the notion.

“Sweetheart, you think I’m that good at my job that I don’t need fancy dinners to win over clients? You must think very highly of me.” He chuckles smugly as he writes words you can barely read on a legal pad. You deal his snark back just the same.

“Of course I think you’re good. You’re my boss, I’m legally obligated to think so.” You both laugh until you reach with your right arm to set the folder on his desk. You let out a noise just loud enough for Harvey to be concerned. 

“What happened to your shoulder?” 

“It’s nothing, I just fell.”

At this, Harvey looks up. You were never one to be clumsy, let alone fall so hard as to hurt yourself. As Harvey’s eyes assess you, he notices a large dark bruise on your wrist- both your wrists in fact. 

His silence worries you, and you follow his eyes to your wrists. “Oh my goodness, I’m so sorry-” You quickly try to pull your sleeves down to cover the spots. Remnants of rain water drove through the foundation. 

Harvey takes a few deep breaths as you stand there in shocked silence. For the smallest second, you think he’s going to hurt you. Rationally, you know the notion is absurd, but the mind that has dealt with angry men keeps you silent.

Harvey finally speaks after taking a minute to process the information he’s pieced together.

“Who did this to you?”

You’re taken aback, that small part of your mind thinking he would call you unprofessional or weak. “My... My boyfriend. He just gets a little annoyed with me sometimes. It’s truly nothing. I’ll do better to cover them-”

“A good man being annoyed never results in bruises. How did this happen?” Harvey has to go against every part of his nature not to rush out and ask Donna everything about this man, then subsequently find him. He’s thinking that those boxing lessons are actually going to come in handy.

But he knows he can’t. He knows that if he moves like that, or moves at all, he’d terrify you. He can see how your eyes dart around. Towards the door, towards your wrists, and towards himself. He didn’t know how you would react if he even stood up.

“I fell into a bookshelf. He pushed me a bit and I lost balance.”

“You mean he shoved you into a shelf.”

The way Harvey phrased it made you feel uncomfortable. “That’s a bit harsh, but you could phrase it like that.”

He stared at you in disbelief. This wasn’t the woman he saw on a daily basis. The woman that dealt with almost every slimy man that came into the building. The woman that he had slowly fallen in love with since she arrived here.

The woman before him seemed like a shell of the woman he met three years ago, and he couldn’t help what came out of his mouth next.

“Do you know how you sound? You should never be bruised, shoved, or red eyed if you’re in love. That’s simply not how it is, and I’m sorry you’ve been made to believe that.”

At this, the dam broke.

Tears had been pooling in your eyes from the moment Harvey saw the bruises. But at his last words you let out a pained sob. It hadn't sunk in just how bad it had gotten. Your boyfriend had done this a few times before, but had never gotten so harsh until last night.

All the pain from the last year had come rushing in, and you were about to break right in front of your boss. Heavy tears started to run down your face. It was at this moment you were glad you never wore heavy makeup. You did your best to stifle the sounds and cries that tried to escape, but outside, Donna still saw through the glass. 

Immediately, Donna calmly walks in. She takes one look at you, then Harvey. With a single nod from Harvey, Donna lets out a quiet "Car is on its way."

Unfortunately that made you feel even worse. "I'm so sorry, Harvey. This is completely unprofessional-"

Harvey finally stands up and walks towards you. At this point, what you need isn't space. He places his hands as gentle as can be on your arms to coax you to look at him. And you do, but looking at your red eyes and wet tears streaming down your face up close make his heart break even more.

"I don't give a shit about professionalism. Donna is getting the car and my driver is going to take you home-"

"No! He's there, he's been trying to move in with me and doesn't have a day job. He's just been staying there..." Your sentence trails off as you’re trying to process what you’re actually saying. Are you really doing this?

"Okay, then my driver will take you to my place and give you a key. We'll talk about the next steps when I get home. I'll get you some things from your apartment, okay?"

The tears were gone purely by witnessing Harvey be so calm, and you nodded slowly. All you could do was follow the sound of his voice. Like a lighthouse in a raging storm. 

Donna entered the room quietly, "The car is here."

"Good. Donna will walk you out." You nodded, not saying a word. You turn to walk out of Harvey’s office, but he reaches out for your hand. “You’ll get through this, alright?”

You give a small smile. However, your mental state did not display the same sentiment. Your mind was reeling from what had happened in the last- what, 10? 15 minutes? 

Donna leads you out the back staircase as a gesture of mercy. She knew that you didn’t want anyone else to see you like this. Harvey wasn’t exaggerating his view of you. Everyone in the office saw you as an unbreakable force.

Harvey’s driver opens the door for you. You look back at Donna, who is smiling sweetly. “I promise, Harvey will take care of everything. The only thing you need to worry about is taking care of yourself, okay?” 

You gave Donna the same small smile you gave Harvey. You were at the edge of your sanity at this point. Now that you’ve gone through all the sadness and shock of the... situation, you were embarrassed. Angry. Angry at yourself for letting a man put his hands on you for a full year. Angry at Donna for knowing exactly what was going on and getting exactly what was needed. Angry at Harvey Specter for being so goddamn perfect that you couldn’t help the butterflies that always arose in your stomach whenever he talked to you. Angry at the world for putting you in this position.

Wordlessly, you exited the car once it stopped in front of Harvey’s building. You reached his apartment without thought. You took your heels off, and put your purse on the closest counter you saw. 

And you cried.

_______

 Harvey exited the elevator with a large box held in his hands. It was purely full of necessities. A week's change of clothes, toiletries, some books he knew were your favorite. Everything else he could buy new. He looked down and saw your heels on the ground and your purse on the table beside him.

Once he set down the box on the floor, he saw you. You looked even worse than at the office. Your beautiful hair was frizzy and pulled in odd directions. The worst part was the absolutely destroyed look on your face. Eyeshadow and liner were smudged on your red tinged eyes which stared into space in front of you. 

Harvey sees your body stiff as a board on the edge of his soft couch, seemingly ready to run at a moment’s thought. “Have you been sitting like that since you got here?”

“No. I’ve only just sat down.” Your arms leaned on your knees, hands folded in your lap.

Harvey tries to ignore the hoarse sound in your voice. “Well, you can relax a bit if you’d like. I got you some more comfortable clothes if you want to change.”

Your brows furrow as you think. “Did he give you any problems?” For the first time since he came in the front door you look at him. He was visibly more relaxed than he is in the office. His suit jacket was tossed on the coat rake next to the door and the sleeves of his dress shirt were neatly folded up his arms. He walked towards the kitchen to the freezer. 

“He didn’t get a chance. Don’t worry, he won’t hurt you again.” He walks over to where you’re sitting on the couch and sets down an ice pack. His shirt was obviously wrinkled, and his knuckles held the slightest tinge of blue. The thought of Harvey hurting someone made your stomach flip, but you didn’t feel quite so bad for the receiving party.

“Let’s get some ice on that shoulder, huh?” He could tell you were still sensitive, but it felt more subdued than the scared woman he saw in his office.

You nodded in agreement about the ice pack. You hadn’t really stopped to think about it until he said something. As you unbutton your shirt to reveal your nude colored undershirt, you wince. The swelling of the bruise had gotten worse since you hadn’t taken anything for it. You hadn’t noticed the pain when you were crying, but now it just felt terrible.

“Let me help.” You give Harvey a look when the words come out of his mouth, a glimpse of that fiery woman that he knows. But you sigh and relent. You managed to undo a few buttons at least before Harvey steps in.

He unbuttons your shirt down to your stomach and pulls the shoulder of the shirt down just enough to slide the ice pack onto the skin. As soon as it’s securely placed between you and the couch, you let out a groan. In relief or pain, you don’t know. All you knew was that the cold felt absolutely wonderful on your swelled skin.

You and Harvey stay like that for a while, the exact amount of minutes you don’t know and neither does he. Harvey is the first to speak.

“You’ve been awfully quiet.” 

You give him a look that says “I wonder why, dumbass.” But you refrain. “I’m thinking.”

He finally sits next to you on the couch and reaches his arm to grasp the top of the cushions. In his mind he excuses it as getting more comfortable, but the opportunity to touch you is also a bonus. Harvey was not a man of wise words for comfort, moreso actions and touch.

In a singsong voice, trying to lighten the mood, he says “Whatcha thinkin’ about.”

You smile a true smile and look towards him. Then the thoughts in your head come rushing in and the smile falls from your face. “I’m thinking about how I’ve been with him for so long that I don’t know how to live my life without him. So much of my life has been conforming to his ideals, his feelings. How am I supposed to love and be loved after him? After I’ve split my soul into so many pieces that I’ve lost track of where they all are?”

Both of you sit in silence, not sure what to say.

“I was definitely not expecting that.”

“I am... extremely sorry I said that, please just ignore-”

“I wasn’t finished, sweetheart. Firstly, I think you should see a professional about these feelings. But in the meantime, we can work on that together.” Harvey smiles, but then falters. “I- I mean, if you want. I’m not trying to get in your pants, I promise, all I’m saying is that I’m here whenever and you can stay as long as you want and-”

“Thank you, Harvey. It means a lot to hear you say that.” You laugh at the sight of a flustered Harvey Specter.

“To paraphrase, you're not alone in this. Not ever.”

You reach over with your good arm and pull him into as much of a hug as you can muster. In return, he pulls you close. Neither of you ever want to leave.

[unequivocallyreid]

Stay With Me Till Morning

hi guys! another fic for you :) i got a little carried away at the end, but you know how it goes. this is for any munch!spencer fans 🤗

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader

summary:

Spencer and you are co-workers, strictly co-workers, despite your feelings for him. A few nights sharing a room won’t change that, right?

warnings: mentions of body-specific insecurity, fluff, smut, oral sex (fem receiving)

wc: 3.2k

if i missed anything let me know!

One of the worst things about being a newbie, at any job, is coming into a place where connections have already been made. Working at the FBI, more specifically the BAU, was no different.

Now don’t get the wrong idea, working there was a dream for you, but there was no doubt that you were severely lacking in personal relationships compared to others. Derek and Reid had a sort of brotherly bond, JJ and Emily’s like sisters, and Hotch and Rossi’s went unspoken but still glaringly obvious. You existed in their orbit, and while you had all grown to love each other, you still felt a bit like an outsider sometimes.

Unfortunately for you, this feeling intensified whenever the topic of room sharing came up. Sure there were benefits, like having a room to yourself on occasion, but usually it just served to worsen your imposter syndrome.

The case that you were working currently, sans Rossi (he was on a book tour following his latest release), pushed this feeling to surface even more.

You all were in Upstate New York investigating a series of homicides that seemed to mimic a string of murders that had occurred 20 years ago. The town you were in was on the smaller side, so the only place you could find accommodations was a small bed and breakfast.

Said BnB did not have enough rooms available for anyone to ride solo, and with Rossi gone, Hotch and Morgan were buddied up, leaving Emily and JJ and Reid and you. Naturally, Emily and JJ bunked up together, leaving you to share a room with the boy wonder.

It’s not that you didn’t like Reid, quite the opposite actually, you liked him too much. You’ve always had a propensity for falling incredibly deeply incredibly fast, and when you met Spencer for the first time you proved you reputation correct.

Your first impression probably put him off slightly, but he was gracious enough not to show it. When Hotch introduced you, the first thing you thought was how ridiculous attractive the man in front of you was. His high cheekbones and big, brown eyes drew you in immediately. To make matters worse, he was fucking adorable. After snapping back to reality, you offered Spencer your hand, which he declined citing the pathogens and it being safer to kiss.

In one of your more impressive displays of cluelessness you said, “I think we could make that happen.”

This caused Spencer to flush and a ghost of a smile to grace Hotch’s face. Thankfully, in the last few months you had redeemed yourself slightly, developed a rapport with the doctor, and stood by hopelessly as you crush developed into a nasty little monster.

So, no sharing a room with Spencer wasn’t really an issue, but still, might just be the thing that breaks you.

~

“There’s only one fucking bed?”

You’d spoke far too soon.

After assuring Spencer you were completely fine and not at all uncomfortable with sharing a room with him, you and him walked together to your room, only to find a scene straight out of a shitty romance novel.

When Spencer heard you and noticed that there was in fact, only one bed, he immediately said, “I can sleep on the couch.”

Maybe you should’ve just agreed and saved yourself from a week of sexual frustration, but you couldn’t.

“Spence, that couch is maybe five feet long. I don’t even think I could sleep on it.”

You looked at him then to muster up some courage, “We can share the bed. We’re both adults.”

He looked slightly pained, which panicked you a bit. God, how fucking embarrassing.

“Or I can take the couch. I wont let you, but if you’re uncomfortable I can. I’m a bit shorter.”

Spencer hurried to speak, “No!”

His outburst took you by surprise but he quickly went on.

“I mean, no. I’m not uncomfortable. I just don’t want you to be at all or feel like I’m forcing you to sleep with me. Fuck, or I mean next to me-“

You cut him off before he could fall into a tailspin.

“We’ll share then.”

~

Sharing the bed had actually not been that bad for you at first. You were on your third day in New York, and you were making steady progress on the case. Hopefully, it would be wrapped up in a day or two.

Aside from the fact that you barely spent any time in the room, you had managed to stay on your side bed. The only spot of trouble was the dreams you were having, dreams about the person next to you that would turn even the worst sinner’s cheeks red. Still, Reid was acting no different, so at least you were confident you weren’t talking, or, god-forbid, moaning, in your sleep.

It had been an incredibly hard day. Not only was it freezing, but you had been outside and away from temperature controlled environments for far too long. Immediately once you got back to the Inn you were staying at, you asked Spencer if he’d mind you taking the shower first.

“I’m freezing my ass of right now. You don’t mind do you?”

“No, of course not. You know it’s kind of a superstition, but there’s some actual evidence that being cold can make you sick. I just read a study which showed 10% of people exposed to-“

You cut him off before he could finish.

“Spence, I’d love to hear about all that, but please just wait till I’m out of the shower.”

“Oh! Yeah, of course. Sorry.”

You shook off his apology as it wasn’t needed. That was one thing you didn’t get about the rest of the team; you loved hearing all the little tid bits of information that Reid let out. Yeah, he was like a literal encyclopedia at times, but it was never annoying. If anything it made you like him more. You loved the way he lit up when he told you about something he’d just read about, or read about 15 years ago. It was cute.

Getting into the shower was like a blessing. The water rolled over your cold skin and helped to loosen the muscles you’d been stressing all day. If you were bolder, or clueless to Spencer’s aversion to touch, you’d ask him to give you a shoulder rub. Your mind wondered off to where else he might touch you, but that was just wishful thinking.

After spending a near gratuitous amount of time in the shower, you shut off the water and reached for a towel. Only once you’d started drying off did you realize in you haste to warm up you’d forgotten to bring your sleep clothes into the bathroom with you. Now, you had to walk out in a tiny, hotel towel right in front of Reid. Sure, it was the start of a few of your fantasies, but in real life the idea seemed mortifying.

As quietly as possible, to not draw attention to yourself, you opened the bathroom door. With one hand gripping the point where the towel connected with itself, you tried to tiptoe unnoticed to your suitcase.

“Y/n?”

You looked up to see Spencer watching your frame like a hawk. As he took in your damp, barely covered figure, you wished to yourself that the lights in the room weren’t so fucking bright.

“I, uh, forgot to bring my clothes in,” and with that, you raced back into the bathroom to change.

After taking a minute to collect yourself, you make your way out of the bathroom again. The room is, thankfully, much darker and you see Reid tucked into his side of the bed. You climb in next to him.

“I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable. That was weird. I, I won’t forget my clothes again.”

“It didn’t, Y/n, don’t worry.”

With that, you both tried your best to fall asleep and put the day behind you.

~

When you wake up, it’s decidedly not light out and you are decidedly not alone on your side of the bed. One of Spencer’s arms is over your waist, holding you against his body. Still, you don’t know why you’ve woken up.

You tend to be a pretty heavy sleeper, and you know that some light spooning wasn’t enough to wake you up. As you lay awake, trying to figure out why you are up and what to do next you feel Spencer move behind you.

Now, you definitely know what woke you. Spencer, who could barely look you in the eye after seeing you in a towel, was grinding into while you slept. Obviously, he was asleep too, but that didn’t stop the shock of it all from hitting you like a fucking bus. He was silent aside from the occasional whimper, which sent shockwaves straight to your core each time he let one slip.

Despite this, again, being the start to a few of your own wet dreams, you were pretty literally stuck between a rock and a hard place. You felt like you’d be taking advantage of Reid if you didn’t wake him, but if you did you know he’d just about die from embarrassment. Or, worse, he’d think that you somehow executed all of this in a sick ploy. Not likely, but still a source of anxiety.

It took you a few minutes to get your head on straight, what with the burning feeling brewing in your abdomen, but eventually you realized that waking him up was pretty much the only thing you could do.

“Spence,” you said while gently shaking his shoulder.

“Spence, love, you gotta wake up.”

You were turned toward him now and saw his eyes open a crack, “Y/n? What’s wrong what’s goin-“

The realization of your situation also hit him like a truck, which was sort of comforting because at least you weren’t alone in the feeling.

“Oh my god, Y/n. Fuck, I’m so sorry. Jesus, I, I can’t- Fuck I’m so sorry.”

He went to spring out of bed, but your hand grabbed his arm before he could.

“Spence, it’s okay I promise. Honestly I’m surprised it didn’t happen earlier.”

“No, no it’s not. You don’t even like me that way and I was all over you-“

You cut him off when you heard this, “Spence, what do you mean I don’t like you like that?”

“You heard me right? I said your name?”

The world stops spinning, “What?”

“Oh, oh no. Look, I’m so sorry. I’ll go sleep in one of the cars. Fuck, I’m so-”

“Spencer stop. Please stop apologizing.”

It’s like an old Western showdown for a moment, the two of you staring at each other without making a move.

“Were you dreaming about me?”

He nodded, about to speak and likely offer more apologies. But, before he gets the chance you push your lips to meet his.

The kiss is soft and gentle. At first, his lips don’t move against yours, and you start to pull back, worried you read the situation wrong. Fortunately, before your lips could even part from his, he’s pulled you back in. His hands find the side of your face and his lips pressed into yours with a bruising intensity. Slowly, his hands moved to your waist, holding you in place.

The feeling rushing through you was unlike any you’d ever experienced. His lips molded to yours so perfectly it was almost unbelievable. If you’re hands weren’t so preoccupied by his hair, you’d pinch yourself to make sure you weren’t dreaming. With a move you didn’t think he’d possibly pull, Spencer bit into your lip, making you gasp. He took the opportunity to press further into the kiss, tracing your tongue with his.

Before you could fall completely into the kiss you pulled away to ask, “Spence, are you sure this is what you want?”

“I’ve been thinking about it since the day we met, Y/n.”

With that, he pulled you back in. His hands moved more surely on you, dipping below your shirt. The feeling of his skin on yours sent shockwaves through your body. You moved to take off his shirt in turn, desperate to feel even more of him. He was relentless, breaking free from your lips to drag his mouth down your neck and over your exposed collar bone.

You felt needier than ever, and evidently so did he. In another move you didn’t expect (maybe you should throw your expectations out the window at this point) he grabbed your hips and pulled you into his lap. With you straddling him, he moved to take your shirt off. Insecurity grabbed hold of you before you could push it away.

You stilled his hands in yours, “I haven’t let anyone see me like this in a long time. Just, please don’t be disappointed by what you see.”

His face morphed into one so full of love that it made your teeth ache.

“You’re my dream, Y/n. You’ll never, ever disappoint me.”

You let go of his hands and they resumed their previous journey, pushing up your shirt and letting that part of you be bare to him. Admittedly, you had to fight the urge to cover yourself, but when you saw his face you knew it was pointless. He was ogling you, not offensively, but more like he couldn’t believe you were actually in front of him.

“You’re so, so beautiful.”

His words didn’t erase the thoughts you had, but they certainly made them easier to ignore. Moving up from your waist, he went to cup your breast, fingers playing with your nipple which made your back arch into him. He took the opportunity to flip you over so you were laying underneath him. The weight of his body over you was heavenly. You felt him press himself into your center through his sweatpants. There were just thin layers of clothes between you now.

“Will you let me taste you? I’ve been dying to.”

You’re stunned from words but you manage to nod your head. As he moved down your body, he took your shorts and panties with you, leaving you completely exposed. For the first time in a long time, you didn’t feel scared of the feeling or his reaction to you. With Spencer, you felt completely at home.

You felt him kiss down your things, teasing you in a way that made you feel completely crazy. His breath ghosted over your core, but he still hadn’t made contact with where you needed him most.

“Spencer, please.”

Hearing your voice must have broken his resolve. He dove in like a man starved. In the past, you hadn’t found yourself enjoying the presence on a man’s head between your legs. Not that you had much experience, but the men who had you in that way always seemed to treat it as a means to an end. One of the two boyfriends you’d had refused to go down on you at all, and the other wouldn’t unless you were completely shaved. Safe to say you didn’t feel like you were missing much.

Everything was different with Spencer. He licked into you there was no place he’d rather be. His tongue over traced over your cunt as he tried to find all the places that drove you wild, and god did he. The noises in the room were obscene, from the moans falling from your lips to the sound of his driving you to an orgasm.

You locked your hands in his hair, grinding into his face without even noticing that you were. You were so close, and you found the final push in his fingers. God, his beautiful fingers.

His mouth was on your clit as he pushed two digits into you, curling in before pulling out, over and over until your legs begin to shake. His unoccupied hand pressed on your lower stomach, building up the feeling until you burst.

You repeated a mantra of his name as you came harder than you can ever remember coming before. The sensation took you out for a minute, but when you came back down and looked down at Spencer, you saw him staring at you in awe and completely soaked.

“Fuck, Y/n. Have you, have you done that before? I think that was the sexist thing I’ve ever seen.”

You were confused for a moment, wondering why he’d think you hadn’t orgasmed before. That was before you felt the damp fabric of the bed beneath you.

“Oh! Oh god, uh, no I haven’t. I’m sorry I didn’t-“

“Don’t apologize for that, Y/n. Fuck, I’d spend the rest of my life between your legs if it meant I could see that again.”

The constat praise falling from him had you noticeably riled up, and you pulled him up, back on top of you.

“Spencer, please. I want you. I want you inside me.”

“Fuck, Y/n.”

He made incredibly quick work of his own pants, freeing himself. Your mouth dropped open as you took him in. He was big, the biggest you’d been with, and he was pretty. You would have drooled if it wasn’t for his lips pressing into yours. He ran his middle finger through your folds before grasping himself. He followed his own path and ran his member through your dripping cunt.

“Fuck, baby, you’re so perfect.”

The pet name made you even more desperate, “Please, Spence. Fuck, please.”

He put you out of your misery, sinking into you in one motion. You had to adjust to his size, but the feeling of him inside you, as close to you as possible had you reeling. You bucked your hips up, urging him to move.

He gave you exactly what you wanted, pushing into you at a perfect pace as he whispered sweet nothings in your ear.

You were overcome and all you could mutter was “thank you, thank you, thank you” in time with each of his thrusts. When he started to push into you harder, you couldn’t help but squeeze down on him.

His hips stalled, “You’re gonna make me come, Y/n. You’re so fucking tight”

You let your hands take down his back, “Please, Spence. Want you to, want to feel you come in me.”

His pace picked up, and you could feel how close he was. Still he wasn’t done. His fingers again found your clit and rubbed circles on it.

“Need to feel you come on me first baby. Need you to come.”

His words made your head spin. It only took a few more thrusts before you were coming again, just as intense as the first time. You pulsed around him and it pushed him over the edge. You felt him come inside you, filling you completely.

“I love you.”

You couldn’t stop the words from spilling out, but you froze immediately after saying them, worried that you had ruined everything. But, just as he had done before, Spencer quelled your worries.

“I love you too. God, I love you.”

~

The next morning was bliss. You woke in Spencer’s arms, and let him into you again. The sex was slow and you each let the three words spill uninhibited.

When you went downstairs, ready to finish the case, you were met with the sheepish faces of your team.

Derek spoke first, “I’d say congratulations if you both weren’t so loud last night.”

While you were mortified, watching the rest of the team hold back their chuckles, you couldn’t help but agree that this was all a moment to celebrate.

End

let me know what you think!!