#like i know why /she/ gets frustrated about it i can imagine what it must feel like looking in on it

[redpiperfox]

It's a grower. Like mushrooms on my back, jellyfish around my face, this song ended up seeping in and I dunno how I don't even know the lyrics O.o XD

[leeloooonfire]

Steve Harrington only wears a bra.

Well, not, only, he's also wearing bright orange swim shorts and a cap backward, too.

The top part, however? Hairy man boobs are prettily covered by a black lace bra with a sparkling strass stone in the middle.

Eddie might be a teeny tiny bit drunk (2 beers after months of abstinence and medication does that to a man), but not drunk enought to imagine Steve Harrington in a bra.

'Uh-', he says eloquently and tries not to stare too much at the other man sitting on what must be Buckley's bed. 'Am I interrupting something?'

Steve, face almost as pink as Erica's favourite shoes, opens his mouth to reply, but Robin, sitting crosslegged in front of him, is faster, 'Oh its just you. Close the door, Eds.'

Eddie isn't sure if she means 'close the door and leave, never talk to us about whatever weird kinky little thing we're doing right now' or 'come in, close the door and shut up'. He hesitates for a moment, studying Steve's pretty flushed face and Robin’s wiggling eyebrows before stepping into the room and closing the door behind him.

His hand is still on the door knob when he turns and finds Robin leaning against Steve’s hairy chest, one of her arms behind his back. She's fumbling with something, frustrated noises escape her closed lips while Steve simply sits still - like a statue. An Adonis statue wearing a bra.

'Fuck', Robin groans loudly, her forehead knocking against Steve's clavicle, his hand patting her head in condolence.

'Not to be judgmental', Eddie starts slowly as he leans against the book case right next to the door, 'But what are you guys doing?'

(Eddie thought Robin's a friend of Dorothy, so why is Steve fucking Harrington sitting dolled up in a delicate bra on her bed and they look like they're ready to make out?!)

When both Steve and Robin send him evil twin looks, he holds both his hands up in surrender, 'Like I said, not gonna judge you, whatever floats your boat or whatever, but what, exactly, is it that you're trying to do here?'

'Practice', Robin grumbles against Steve's chest, tugging behind his back again.

Steve grins, a bit lopsided and goofy, 'She's trying to open the bra with one hand.'

'It's just so much easier on myself,' she says, and now that Eddie knows what's happening, he can make out her hand tugging and fumbling with the hooks behind Steve's back.

'Ah,' Eddie says, again, rather eloquently. 'I should probably leave you to it, then.'

Before he can turn and go, however, Steve says, 'I heard that you're pretty good with your hands, Munson. Bet you can get it off me in no time.'

'Pfff- ' Robin makes, rolling her eyes, 'I wouldn't be so sure he's ever had a bra in his hands.'

And while Robin has flocked him as a raging homosexual as it seems, Eddie heard the rumours about him too: fingers dancing over his guitar, rolling the perfect joints, Eddie the freak Munson knows how to work his fingers. he doesn't hate this rumour at all. It's kind of nice - for his ego and all.

Yes, he hasn't opened a bra before, but he's met this hot goth dude in a corset before, and that's basically a bra with dozens of hooks. He is fairly sure he can open it with one hand and without looking. What he probably shouldn't do is coming too close to Steve Harrington, the man he's had a crush on since they survived the Upside Down together. Not with his naked skin and hairy chest and dark brown nipple peaking through the black lace of the undergarment.

But both Robin and Steve stare at him and Eddie doesn't run anymore - a challenge is a challenge.

'No problem,' he says far more confident than he actually feels and steps closer, one knee on the bed before Robin's even all out of the way.

'No looking,' she says as if she's explaining the rules to a game, 'chest to chest or face in his neck, but you can only use one hand and your eyes have to stay either closed or on him. Seriously no peeking.'

She shuffles out the way to make room for Eddie between Steve's long, also very naked, legs and Eddie swallows quietly before leaning closer.

Steve smells like sunscreen and grass, a bit like the pineapple they ate earlier before the kids left, and sweat. He smells devine and before Eddie can think clearly, he presses his face into Steve's neck. He feels Steve shudder when his damp lips accidentally meet his sun kissed skin and Eddie feels like he's going crazy. What is he doing? Why is he doing it? Even the slightest touch sends shockwaves through his body. God, he's gone so bad for Steve Harrington.

'Ready?' Robin asks, apparently unaware of Eddie's dilemma or the way Steve's pulse is fluttering like a hummingbird right against Eddie's nose. 'Go!'

He sneaks his right arm around Steve, who jumps slightly the moment Eddie's fingertips brush against his shoulder blades. To keep him still, Eddie's left hand reaches for Steve's waist almost automatically. He doesn't try to focus too much on the way goosebumps spread under his fingers and the way Steve literally whines into Eddie's ear. His right hand follows the scratchy lace, nails lightly scratching Steve's skin, until he finds the hooks.

Thumb under the fabric and pointer and middle finger pressing against it, he feels the first hook opening after less than a heartbeat. For a moment, Eddie doesn't want to open the other two and therefore lose any reason to be so close to Steve.

Steve, who has his nose pressed against Eddie's hair and hand curled into Eddie's shirt, slightly tugging as if .... Well, as if to ask for permission to take it off. Eddie doesn't even know when he had the time to grab for the shirt in the first place.

Eddie moves his hand and the second hook opens. He turns his face, brings a bit more space between them to look at Steve. His cheeks are scarlet, lips shiney with spit and when he opens his eyes after mere seconds of Eddie staring at him, he can see that Steve's pupils are dilated, eyes dark with want.

The last hook springs free and without turning his eyes away, Eddie gently brushes the strap off Steve's broad shoulder. Steve quietly whimpers and pushes harder against Eddie's shirt as if to tear it off his body.

'Eddie', he whispers, licking his lips and Eddie just wants everything Steve is ready to offer.

'Ohhh okay, I think I'll leave you two alone', he hears the slightly panicked voice of Robin and then a door opening and closing.

And Eddie leans in...

[not-so-mundane-after-all]

I keep rewatching that epilogue scene and, the way Hunter and Omega talk about her joining the Rebellion... You can tell this is not the first time they're having this conversation. And I just can't help but wonder what the previous one(s) must have looked like.

Because something tells me it wasn't peaceful.

I just can't imagine Hunter having any other reaction than an immediate, definitive "absolutely not" the first time he hears about Omega wanting to join the Rebellion. Just like I can't imagine Omega being okay with that reaction.

Were they arguing about it? Were they butting heads and not backing down from their respective points? Because they would. Absolutely, they would.

Did their brothers have conversations with both of them separately? Did Wrecker tell Omega to give Hunter a break because he's old and worried? Did Crosshair convince Hunter that he can't keep a grown woman grounded just because he's scared about her? Did Echo tell him that if this is Omega's calling, he has to let her do her thing?

She tried to sneak off. As if she didn't want to go through this again. As if she thought leaving without a goodbye would be easier on everyone and this way no one can stop her. After all, she made up her mind. She's going. But when she turns the light on and spots Hunter sitting there, she's not even surprised. She nods to herself like of course. Of course he's here.

This literally sounds like they've been over this before. But this time the conversation is surely more peaceful. They both have the other's perspective in their minds now.

This is my choice and I know it scares you but I need you to understand.

I know I won't change your mind but I don't want you to go, I want you to be safe.

This must have been said before as well. Maybe in anger. Maybe in pleading. Or desperation. I wouldn't be surprised if Omega got very frustrated with Hunter for treating her like she's still a kid. Nor would I be shocked if Hunter had trouble articulating his point of view in all his worry and panic. But here, it's a confession. It's very vulnerable. It's the truth Hunter doesn't want to hear and gives a reason why.

Omega is a grown woman now. Skilled, capable, brave. Hunter doesn't doubt that. But to him, she's always going to be his little girl no matter how old she is and I am still speechless at the fact that we actually see him not only struggling with it but also admitting to it.

Back on Pabu, after they escaped Tantiss, Hunter told her: "We've all fought enough battles for one lifetime." And now, years later, Omega echoes this back to him. "You've all fought enough." Almost like she's reading Hunter's mind and knows that if he can't stop her, he's going to want to join her.

The way he wants to reach after her here when she gets up. Like he wants to say wait, no, don't go yet!

But this is her fight, just like she says. She's never been able to sit still, we know that, we've seen that. Just like Echo back in season 2, she can't stand the thought of staying down and doing nothing when there are people out there fighting for freedom. People she can help. She's a skilled pilot now (I can bet she'll become most famous in the Rebellion for her flawless Tech-Turn), she has absorbed everything her brothers have taught her over the years like a sponge and now she wants to use that. After years of living away from the fight, she's finally ready to get back out there and make a difference in the galaxy. Fight for peace because that is her calling.

She's ready, but Hunter is not.

You can tell it's literally tearing him apart to watch her go. That's his baby, the whole reason he's living the life he has now. He gave his blood, sweat and tears so she could grow up safe and happy and away from the Empire's clutches. And now she's going back right into them, willingly.

But she's all grown up. And he has no choice but to let her go do her thing. So he holds her close and I don't doubt sends out a prayer that she comes back to him safe and in one piece. He closes his eyes and commits the feeling to memory because who knows when will be the next time he gets to do this?

And it might be destroying him inside but he's so damn proud. And he knows she's got this. She doesn't need her old man to watch her back anymore.

And yet still this old man, with gray in his hair and beard, this old man whose posture is hunched and who is moving slowly and having difficulty standing up because of his accelerated age, is telling his very grown up and very capable daughter that if she needs him, he's going to pick up his blaster, don the armor and join her in the fight.

Because that's what fathers do.

[aperrywilliams]

More Than You Say (Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader)

——————

Author Masterlist

Part 1: More Than You Know

Part 3: More Than You Expect (the end)

——————

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader.

Summary: Spencer mulls over what you said and your love confession during your last fight. And he knows how deeply he fucked up this time. After admitting he is in love with you, Spencer wants to fix things. Are you willing to let him?

Word Count: 5.6k

TW: ANGST. Strong language. Mention of abduction, drug use, getting shot, death of relatives and loved ones, jail, and unsafe sex. If I forgot anything, let me know.

A/N: This is the aftermath of 'More Than You Know' from Spencer's POV. I'm not going to lie. This one ends worse than the previous one. The good news is that there is a third chance, meaning a third part. Maybe they will have luck in that one.

——————

Spencer doesn't know how long he has stood there, looking at the door you shut when you left. His first thought was to run after you, but he refrained.

What could he have said to you?

Sitting in the chair that you left vacant, he takes a deep breath. The room feels suffocating to him.

Your words keep reverberating in his brain, and Spencer wants to feel utterly surprised, but it would be a lie. Not that he precisely knew what was going on; it was more like he sensed something was off, and he ignored it.

Like a royal asshole.

The hurt in your eyes is something he knows he will never forget. Those kind eyes that were always welcoming and understanding, this time, only reflected betrayal and pain.

Spencer hates his mouth and the way his words can do so much harm.

Rewinding the past months in his brain, Spencer tries to figure out how you both ended like this.

You never told him how you felt, and Spencer is sure about it. He would have done something if you did.

He is so caught up in his thoughts that he doesn't notice Emily walking into the room.

"She told you, didn't she? You must have hella pissed her off," Emily muses. And Spencer can't help but return a confused look.

"Wait. You knew?"

Emily let out a frustrated sigh, sitting in front of Spencer.

"Sometimes I wonder why that amount of IQ doesn't pay off," she wonders. Seeing the man still clueless, she continues talking. "Spencer, possibly the only one who didn't know at this point was you."

Great. Everyone knew but him. Spencer wants to dig a hole and disappear right now.

"Why she didn't tell me?"

The question is more to himself than Emily. She answers nonetheless.

"I'm not sure if she ever wanted you to know. If you hadn't pushed her the way you did, she would never have told you, I guess."

Spencer takes in Emily's words and starts questioning everything about you and him in the past months.

"I assumed so many things lately, and now I'm unsure if they are true or part of my imagination," he says, frustrated, raking his hands through his hair.

"You have the answers, Spencer. Even if you think you don't."

Spencer scoffs at that. He doesn't fucking know anything. That's the problem. He needs to fix something but doesn't know what it is.

"I need to talk to her," he decides, standing and walking to the door. Before he could cross the threshold, Emily calls his name.

"Reid, wait."

Spencer turns to see Emily. She has a stern look.

"Don't talk to her unless you know what you want to say."

Spencer's eyes narrow. He can't conceive of not talking to you right now. He wants to run to your place right away.

"What? But Emily, I need to know-"

Spencer argues, but Emily doesn't let him finish.

"You'll figure it out. Just don't rush it. She has been through a lot. At least you owe her that. Think about what she told you first."

Spencer doesn't know what to do—the compulsion to run after you clouds his senses, but Emily has a point. He doesn't know what to say. Yeah, he is sorry for what he said to you and how he treated you, but an 'I'm sorry' won't fix it.

Besides, until that day, Spencer thought you both were only friends, and you were okay with it. He only pegged all your apprehensions and the words of concern like a friend's worry.

It seems he did a great job ignoring what it was in front of his eyes.

You said you loved him. And Spencer has no reason to doubt your words, even if he told you he does.

Spencer leaves the conference room defeated and with a weight over his shoulders he hasn't felt in a long time.

As he passes your desk, he sees it empty, and his stomach clenches. It's like being in a parallel world where you are not next to him, and just imagining it disturbs him.

The rest of the team watches as Spencer wanders around the BAU like a lost puppy, wondering if this will make him really reflect on how he's been leading his life lately. They know the bond between you and Spencer is important to both of you, but they've also seen how it has deteriorated over time.

That night, as he steps into his apartment after work, he only wants to grab the phone and call you. But Emily's words start replaying again.

'You'll figure it out. At least you owe her that.'

Spencer opts to sit on the couch with the lights off and his head back.

He needs to fix this.

When he closes his eyes, his mind wanders to the day he met you.

-

He was a scared kid, a freshman FBI agent recruited by Jason Gideon. He put a foot in the bullpen that day, and Hotch was the first to greet him. His stern look was different from Gideon's and more intimidating for sure. He led Spencer to the conference room, where you were perched in a corner with a mug of coffee in your hands.

'This is SSA (Y/N) (Y/L/N). It's her first day, too. Agent (Y/L/N), he is SSA Dr. Spencer Reid; he is joining the team as well.'

You glanced at him and rapidly stood from your spot, stretching your hand to him. He should have shaken it, but his germaphobe self kicked off.

'The number of pathogens passed during a handshake is staggering. It's actually safer to kiss.'

After the words left his mouth, he wanted to be buried alive. You retracted your hand with an amused smile.

'I didn't know. But I guess we should skip the kiss part for now,' you said, and Spencer's cheeks burned in embarrassment. Seeing him all flustered, you quickly added. 'But It's good to know new things. I think I'll learn a lot from you, Dr. Reid.'

This time, Spencer's cheeks burned from more than embarrassment.

It might sound cliché to say that for the first time in his life, Spencer felt so comfortable with someone. You quickly became his best friend and unmatched support. People wondered why. To outsider's eyes, you both looked so different. You were more confident than him, with an extraordinary ability to listen and say the right words at the right time. You were one of the few people who wasn't intimidated by either Hotch or Gideon, a thing he could not say about himself.

And, by far, you have been the only person there for him when Spencer has needed it the most.

He remembers having the vial in his hand. He stared at the item for a while, deciding whether to use it. It has been weeks since Hankel kidnapped him, and he stole the Dilaudid from his dead body.

He was feeling trapped and hopeless. Spencer thought he could handle it, but every day, it seemed worse than the previous one.

His feet carried him to your door that night. He knocked but didn't know why. Maybe he hoped to find some strength he didn't have.

You opened the door and glanced at him, confused. He wasn't okay, and he didn't look alright, either.

'Spencer? What are you doing here?' you asked, your voice laced with worry.

'I'm sorry I didn't call before coming.'

He didn't know how he managed to get words out of his mouth. Spencer was to a second to crumble.

'It's okay. What happened? Are you hurt?' Your eyes scanned his body for a sign of what was going on.

'I don't - I can't (Y/N). I can't do this. I need help.'

Spencer broke, sobbing at your door. You rushed to hug him; you didn't even care that you were in the middle of the hallway.

That night, Spencer confessed his sins, and he found nothing but understanding and support in you. He didn't know he deserved either of these things until he met you.

As you both got closer, he learned everything about you. In the same way that he confided his life to you, you did the same to him. And Spencer never hesitated when you needed him.

You called him sobbing that night. Your dad was suddenly admitted into the hospital due to an illness he hadn't told anyone before. You were his only close family member. Your mom left the country when your parents divorced a decade ago, and your two older siblings lived in other towns.

'Hey, I came the faster I could. What happened?' Spencer rushed into the hospital waiting room where you were. You darted your glassy eyes at him, with lips quivering.

'He isn't okay, Spencer. The doctor says he- oh God - he will not make it,' you broke, with a sob raking through you.

Spencer engulfed you in a tight embrace. You cried with your head on his chest. He would have given everything to rip off your pain and carry it himself.

You both stayed in the hospital that night. You at least could see your dad for a moment to say goodbye. At dawn the next day, he passed away.

Spencer remained with you through your grieving process and swore to be by your side and protect you for the rest of his life, no matter what.

And like that, life kept testing your bond with Spencer—failed relationships, elusive psychopaths, work injuries, friends gone, faked deaths, and so on. The BAU changed, but you both remained.

Sometimes, Spencer wondered if destiny was a real thing. Maybe with you, it was—his best friend.

He was truly happy having you in his life, but why sometimes did it feel like something was missing?

Spencer questioned his feelings about you for a long time. Was it something more than a platonic sentiment? Why was his heart filled with joy every time he saw your smile or heard your laugh? And it plugged with gloom when you were sad?

With time, Spencer was convinced he loved you but kept his mouth shut. He told himself he was over-reading the signs. And Spencer blamed his early lack of affection and inexperience in the heart's department. You undoubtedly didn't feel the way he did, and he was creating a whole imaginary world that would crush the moment the bubble popped.

People around weren't helping either. After telling Morgan how he felt about you, he kept telling Spencer that he needed to make a move.

JJ, for her part, let out her insinuations about how he should do something and the high probability of his feelings being reciprocated.

But Spencer wasn't sure, and the risk of losing you for overstepping your bond terrified him, so he said nothing.

And things could have stayed that way, but a light of hope for him opened time after.

Morgan and Hotch had left the BAU, and the team was focused on trying to catch Scratch. At the same time, Spencer was dealing with his mom's illness and her recently diagnosed Alzheimer's. As always, you were there for him.

"Are you sure you don't want me to go with you to Houston?" you asked him, sitting on his couch one night.

"No. It's okay. It will be only two days," Spencer assured you. He felt terrible for lying to you. He never did that before, but he knew you would talk some sense to him about what he was doing on his trips to Mexico.

"Will you call me if you need anything?" you insisted, and Spencer could only think how much he wanted to hug and kiss you. But he won't do that. He can't do that without telling you he loves you. Not without risking losing you due to a stupid love confession.

Spencer was so lost in his thoughts that he didn't notice his lack of response to your question.

"Spencer? Are you okay?"

With still a semi-hazed brain, his hands reached yours, and his eyes locked with yours. A frown of worry appeared on your face.

"Have I ever told you how grateful I am for having you in my life?"

A blush crept from your neck to your cheeks. It wasn't the first time Spencer had told you something like that, but how he looked at you that night, with that intensity, was making you weak on the knees.

"Yeah. A couple of times, if I recall correctly," you replied, trying to sound casual, but inside, you were aflame with his gaze.

"I think I should say it more. And to show it like it really is," Spencer mumbled, and you were confused. What was he trying to say?

"You mean like buying me more coffees and bagels?" you joked. You always did that when you were nervous, and Spencer knew it.

In a bold move and without letting your hands go, he scooted closer to you on the couch.

It was now or never. Spencer knew then this was his chance, and if he didn't take it, he would never do it again.

"Can - can I tell you something?" he asked, flicking his gaze between your eyes and your lips back and forth.

You noticed the gesture and were about to combust. Why was Spencer looking at your lips like that?

"Yes." Your voice above a whisper, fearing it could falter if you spoke louder.

"I want to kiss you so bad right now," he whispered back, so close you could feel his breath fanning your face. Your lips parted to say something, but no words came from them. Instead, you were the one who closed the gap between you both and kissed him.

Spencer kissed you back immediately with such urgency that you could feel the longing and desperation on his lips.

Deepening the kiss, neither you nor he wanted to stop. Fearing if you did, the moment would vanish, and you would wake up from this beautiful dream.

Maybe this was the chance you both needed to confess your feelings for each other. But fate could be cruel more than once.

In the middle of that years-making kiss, your phone rang suddenly. The infamous sound made you both jump back and return to reality.

Still dazed, you fished the device from your pocket. Emily was calling. You didn't know what to do. Should you answer your phone and cut the moment? Or ignore it and grasp Spencer's lapels to kiss him again?

Your bewildered look made Spencer decide for you.

"You should take that. Could be important," he said, voice laced with doom. He knew what was coming. You wanted to argue, but maybe he was right. Reluctantly, you slid your finger on the green bottom.

"Emily?"

The team had a new case, and it was urgent. You needed to be on the tarmac in twenty minutes.

"Can we - can we talk about this later?"

You were unsure where you were standing. Sure, you felt the electricity of that kiss; you didn't imagine it. But maybe it wasn't like you were thinking. Perhaps it was just the heat of the moment. A lot of things were happening, and you both were vulnerable.

On his part, Spencer saw this as a sign. This wasn't the time or the place. He didn't feel prepared to face his true feelings at the moment.

"Sure. Uh, but now you should go; they are waiting."

The bad thing is you never talked about that again. You went with the team to Connecticut while Spencer left the following day, not to Houston like he said to you. He went to Mexico.

The next time you saw each other was with Spencer in a cell in Matamoros.

There are a lot of things Spencer regrets about that infamous trip. One of them is to lose his chance to know if he could have built something more with you. How could Spencer imagine having a relationship with you now? After he lied to you? After falling in disgrace like this? You deserved more than a broken man, incarcerated and lost. Spencer didn't want to drag you with him and his misery. He couldn't stand the idea of breaking your heart for a failed relationship, but he didn't want to lose you either. The reasonable middle ground for Spencer was keeping you like his friend, as it has been until now.

After Spencer was released from prison, neither you nor him spoke of that night. He presumed you regretted kissing him, and he was afraid to say what it meant to him.

Everything got lost after his release. Spencer became reckless and superficial. He was a different guy. But everyone dispensed him due to the traumatic events he endured. You did it, too. You had stayed and committed yourself to him in the role you knew so well: as his best friend.

And that's what Spencer saw since then: you by his side, supporting him like the good friend you were. And he thought it was okay. You were alright, and he should have to live with the idea of not knowing what it could be to love you openly.

That's how Spencer immersed himself in a shallow and meaningless life, failing his true self and becoming a person he despised but who shielded him in his vulnerability.

-

The cell phone ringtone brings Spencer back from his thoughts. He quickly pulls it out of his pants pocket, secretly hoping it's you. It's a long shot, but he wants it so badly to be real. A short-lived wish because the caller ID shows it's Gabrielle, his late conquest.

Spencer lets out a heavy sigh, and your words come back to him.

'No! It's everything! Can't you see it? It's the way you lie to your teammates and the way you do your job like it doesn't matter to you. The way you turn everything into something meaningless. The relationships you have, your job, your friends. Everything!'

Spencer feels his body stiffen. It's like he's looking at himself from the outside, and what he sees terrifies him.

That's what you've seen in him, and he understands why you've walked away from him like that. The person he has become is to blame for your pain, and Spencer feels sick. He, who swore years ago to protect you from all harm, is the one who caused this.

'Do you really believe that? Do you really believe your self-destructive behavior only affects you? I didn't think you were so selfish, Spencer.'

Selfish. It's what he's been all along. And you had to be the one to throw it in his face to realize his mistakes.

Spencer doesn't have the energy or courage to answer the phone. He knows why Gabrielle is calling, and what 24 hours ago would have been a tempting offer now feels futile and pointless.

It's meaningless because the only truly significant relationship he has wanted all along is with you, nobody else.

And possibly you are in your apartment thinking Spencer is an asshole, believing he doesn't value you, that he doesn't care about you, that he doesn't love you. And while the asshole part it's true, he does care about you, and he does love you.

It may be too overdue, but it's time for you to know, he thinks.

With a resolution Spencer didn't know he had, he stands from his couch to grab his coat and keys. He is going to reveal his secret tonight. He is going to admit his underlying love to you and stop his charade.

During the car ride, he is having a pep talk with himself, trying not to lose the bravery that made him leave the apartment.

You have to know. He has to clear things up and get you back.

Spencer keeps repeating the words until he's at your door, calling with two solid knocks.

After some rustling from inside, the door opens, revealing your unhappy face. Spencer knows he deserves all the bitterness and pettiness you have and will throw at him, and he's going to take it all.

"You didn't check the clock before coming here, did you?" is the first thing coming from your mouth.

Spencer takes in your appearance. You're in your pajamas already, but the bags under your eyes tell him you weren't sleeping, and possibly you have been tossing and turning for hours now.

"I'm sorry. I know it's late, but we need to talk."

The roll in your eyes doesn't go unnoticed by him; it's like you weren't surprised by him standing at your door at 2 am.

"Spencer, if you want to talk about what happened this afternoon, I don't think-"

"Please? I know I behaved like an idiot today, but please let me explain," Spencer insists, and he really hopes you don't close the door in his face.

You contemplate your response for a second. Spencer knows you know he won't leave without talking to you, so you open the door just enough and signal him to come inside.

Spencer comes in and waits for you to close the door. The resolve with which he came is fading as his brain tries to organize his ideas and all the things he wants to say.

You gesture towards the couch, and he takes a seat. You too, but in a chair next to it.

Where to start? Spencer thinks about just blurting out everything and spilling his heart in front of you. But you are the one who starts talking.

"Why are you here?"

Spencer clears his throat. "I - I want to apologize for what I said. I hurt you, and I didn't mean to do that. I really didn't mean to do that."

"But you did," you say flatly, and he nods.

"I know. And I'm sorry. I let you down, and I feel horrible misreading the whole thing. I should have noticed."

Spencer barely blinks, trying to gauge your expression. You're difficult to read right now, and he hates it. You guys always were so good at reading each other, and he lost that ability, too.

"If you are talking about-" You seem ready to say something to not address the subject, so Spencer only blurts his question.

"Is it true? Do you love me?"

You sigh, shaking your head.

"Spencer-" You start, but Spencer doesn't budge. He needs to know and to hear it from you.

"Please, tell me," he pleads, and you let out a bitter chuckle.

"Why? It doesn't matter. It won't change where we stand right now," you convey with some treacherous tears fighting to fall. You avert his gaze.

Spencer stands and kneels in front of you.

"Please, look at me."

His index tilts up your chin so he can see your eyes. You surprisingly let him do that. "I need to know if you feel the same way I do about you," he whispers, his eyes fixated on yours. You furrow your eyebrows.

"What are you talking about?" One of his hands tenderly poses on your cheek to dry some of the tears falling.

"What I'm trying to say is that I love you. I have always loved you."

God, it feels so good to say it finally.

"W - What?" You look perplexed, and Spencer knows this is the opportunity he has to come clean with you.

"I know I didn't tell you sooner. It's long overdue, and even if I have my reasons, they don't excuse how I have treated you in the past months. But I promise things will change. I won't hide this anymore. Please, give me a chance to love you."

You seem overwhelmed with the information, so much so that you stand and start to pace in your living room. Spencer gets up as well and follows you with his eyes.

"Spencer, how- I - I don't understand. Why are you telling me this?"

"Because it's true. You are the one for me. I love you (Y/N)."

It seems now that he's said it once, Spencer spares no effort in repeating he loves you over and over again.

You stop pacing to look at him, an accusatory look in your eyes.

"Why now?"

Spencer understands your apprehensions. Of course, after everything that had taken place in the last hours, he comes to your door proclaiming his love. Logically, you are confused and don't expect it.

"Do you remember the night we kissed? The night before I went to Mexico?" He asks, and your gaze softens at the mention of that night.

"I do. But I thought you forgot," you say, casting your eyes down.

"How could I?! I wanted to do that for a long time. I couldn't believe we were finally kissing. It was like a dream come true for me," he recognizes, shorting the distance between you both and tentatively cupping your cheeks. You let him.

"But - but after the call, you - you told me-" you stutter, recalling the details of what occurred there.

"I know. I chickened out. After Emily's call, I thought it was a sign and not the right moment, so I backed off. There is no single day I don't regret doing that." Spencer's eyes glasses over, thinking about how foolish and blind he has been all this time.

"Why you didn't tell me?" you murmur, almost in a whisper.

"Because I'm stupid. Because I thought I was protecting you. I was in jail (Y/N); what could I have offered you?"

You huff and shake your head, putting distance between you both. Spencer's arms fall to his sides.

"And after that?"

Spencer knows you're talking about the time after he was released from Milburn. He gives you an apologetic look before answering.

"I thought I was doing the same. That having you as a friend was better than not having you at all," he concedes. Maybe it's the hardest part for him to admit because, when that happened, everything started to crumble between you both.

"So that was the friendship bullshit," you sneer. Spencer nods.

"Yeah. And I'll always be sorry for doing that to you. But I promise you, if you let me, things will change."

You go silent, mulling over his words, and it's like your defenses start to turn down. You look at Spencer with a mix of emotions he can't still crack. Maybe his words are void for you right now. That's why Spencer thinks showing you what he means is better than keep talking.

He slowly approaches you without breaking eye contact. With one of his hands, Spencer tilts up your chin while he leans down. He can hear the air hitching in your throat. His heart beats faster and faster as he gets closer and closer.

You do not move a muscle, nor do you reject his touch.

When his lips make contact with yours, you both let out a sigh you were holding. Your lips begin to move in sync. Spencer is kissing you, you're kissing him back, and there is no phone ringing.

Spencer gives you everything he has, trying to express he is yours and no one else's. You are both lost in a kiss that seems increasingly urgent and desperate.

But suddenly, you push him away. It's as if a jolt of electricity has struck you, shoving you away from him.

"Please, don't. Don't -" you mewl in a broken voice. Still dazed, Spencer looks at you, baffled.

"W - What's wrong?"

"I - I can't," you mumble, running your hands through your hair and shaking your head.

"Why not?" Spencer asks, and when you keep shaking your head and saying nothing, he starts to panic. "(Y/N), please. Talk to me."

"Spencer, I'm sorry. I can't do this," you repeat—this time with a steadier voice. "This isn't going to work."

Isn't it going to work? Spencer doesn't understand why you are saying that when you both just have admitted the truth.

"But I thought you loved me?"

Spencer's voice is small, frightened. It's as if, in five seconds, he went from the top of a mountain to a free fall into the void.

You look at him for a second, and it's like a realization hits you.

"So that's the reason? You are here and saying all these things because I told you I loved you?"

The accusing, defensive tone returns to you. And Spencer doesn't know what to do.

"No! I mean, yes! I thought a lot about what you told me. And I realized my feelings for you have always been there. That's why I'm here," he defends.

You insistently rub your eyes with your palms like someone who desperately wants to wake up from a dream.

"I'm sorry, but I can't believe you."

Spencer's eyes widen. You've closed yourself completely and thrown the key out the window.

"But it's true! I can prove it. I can be a better man for you if you give me a chance. Please." Spencer is begging, tears rolling down his face, but he doesn't care. He will do anything to get you back at this point.

"Spencer. Listen to me. Things don't work like that, okay? You hurt me, and I'm not talking about my romantic feelings for you. You questioned my loyalty as your friend. Do you know how that made me feel?"

"I'm sorry-" he tries to explain, but you cut him off.

"It's true what I told you earlier. I chose our friendship above acting on my love for you. And it seems I did it in vain."

Spencer shakes his head. "No, no, no. Don't say that. I know I did wrong, but I can make it up to you."

Can he really?

"Spencer, you need to make it up, but to you, not to me." Spencer's head snaps up.

"What - what are you talking about?"

You let out a deep sigh. "We both know you know."

"Prison," he confirms, embarrassed of what that word implies.

"And how your life has been since then."

"I know I fucked up. I hurt you-"

If thousands of apologies are necessary, he's willing to give you all of them.

"You hurt people, Spencer! Not only me! You fooled around; you have been treating women poorly and playing with their feelings. You have lied to your friends and pushed them away. And the worst part is you have been hurting yourself with all this!"

Spencer's eyes squeeze shut. You are right. He knows that. But he is so terrified about you walking away from him that he can't see the big picture.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

"I know you do. But I can't do this anymore. Supporting your self-destructive actions is not helping anyone."

"I know. And I'm not asking you to do that. I'm asking for a chance to show you I'm the guy who would do anything for you. Please?"

"Spencer, that's exactly my point. You must heal because of yourself, not because of me or anyone for that matter."

"I'm not-"

"Listen to yourself. You say you want a chance? But you only ask it after I poured out my heart this afternoon. How can I trust you when you have only shown me this version of you? Don't ask me to believe it."

There are a lot of things Spencer knows he has to do. He has a lot of mistakes to face and make amends for. But he fails to realize that the first amendment he needs to make is to himself.

That's what you have been trying to tell him.

"Are you saying there are no us?"

It's almost a rhetorical question at this point, but Spencer asks it anyway.

You look at him with sorrow in your eyes.

"There is nothing I want more than to be in your life, but in these circumstances, I don't think it's possible. Not when you must clear your head and think about what you want first. For real."

"But I love you; please don't ask me to step away."

It's another plea. The last resource Spencer has in him.

"I'm not asking you for that. What I'm asking you is if you really love me, don't drag me with you in this process you're going through now. I can't - I don't have the strength to stay by your side in this one. I'm sorry, but I need to think of myself this time."

"(Y/N)-"

"And now, I ask you for you to leave, please. It's late," you say, walking to the entrance and opening the front door.

It's late. Those words mean so much more to Spencer now.

It's too late for a love confession when you've already ruined everything that supported it.

It's too late to try to fix the mistakes he has made with you. Even tonight, it was daring to come to your home late at night, being inconsiderate of your space and time.

There is no way he can do something now without hurting you.

Maybe time will give him a hand, and the wounds will soften. Spencer hopes that by making real changes in his life, you will see he really meant everything he has said tonight.

What Spencer doesn't know is that you won't be around to see those changes happen.

——————

Spencer Reid's Taglist: @dreatine @nomajdetective @jayyeahthatsme @rosalinasam2 @averyhotchner @lovelyxtom @princessmiaelicia @pastelbabygirl19 @reidsbookclub @alexxavicry @gspenc @spencerreidisbae123 @calmspencer @pauline5525mgg @anamiad00msday @milivanili99 @laylasbunbunny @leahblackk @miaxx03 @missabsey @taintedstranger @khxna @hiireadstuff @pleasantwitchgarden @dysphoricsanity @levi-of-starz @themoonchildwhofell @silver138 @lovelybaka @shinytinywhispers 

For those who asked for a part 2 (I'm so sorry for the delay): @gghostwriter @sebastiansstanswhore @evvy96 @pillsbury-doughgirl @singinghamtaro-blog @atlantica-angels @lukesmainpiece @ladyofhellhounds @gubzgirl @shqwqrma @hereforfun-31 @reader1402

[heaven4lostgirls]

I deserve better (A.H)

pairing: aaron hotchner x reader

warning: angst, breakups, mentions of haley's death, reader is compared to haley, breakdowns, aaron has healing to do</3

summary: aaron comes home from a hard case with his decision already made, he's in for a very rude awakening when reader sees right through his bs.

word count: 1.5k

There was a loneliness in the air that felt almost palpable after your breakup with Aaron. It felt like an amalgamation of every broken promise and empty silences you both sat in, trying to grasp onto invisible strings surrounding your love. If you thought hard enough, you could almost clearly imagine what used to be his breathing when he used to lie on the now cold side of the bed. His presence haunted every empty corner of your now prodigious apartment.

You closed your eyes in the dark as your mind unwillingly drifted to the conversation with your now ex-boyfriend.      The sound of the door opening to Aaron’s home made you look away from the television as you waited with bated breath and a smile to see your boyfriend, only the expression he held on his face when your gazes met was one you knew you would commit to memory. Guilt, anguish. Probably worse if you had bothered to push deeper but you knew that you couldn’t do that yourself.

“Aaron?” your voice echoes in the living room and all he can do is hesitate, you watch as his hands shake as he places his badge, gun and bag down before making his way to you, his steps purposeful yet cautious and deep down you knew that whatever he was going to say was going to change the trajectory of your relationship.

“Hey” he whispers as he sits on the opposite end of the couch which only cements your worries, maybe he’s finally decided that him and Jack didn’t need another addition to their family, maybe he’s decided he’s had enough of you. “We need to talk” he starts, and your only response is a small nod as your underlying anxiety bubbles under your skin like a festering wound.

 “This- This case, it really made me realise something.” He starts and you can already feel your expression shifting from worry to confusion, he must recognise your own emotions as you do his as he continues swiftly. “The unsub mentioned you when we caught him, he knew your name” he says harshly and you look at him shocked, why hadn’t he told you any of this when you’d called him after he had wrapped up the case? “I promised myself when Haley passed away that I would never put someone I cared about in the position to be used against me” he says and your heart drops.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you ask out of genuine curiosity. He closes his eyes and clenches his hands into fists, “I think you know.” He croaks out and you scoff which only causes him to look at you  in confusion, “You’re being selfish” you bite out and he looks alarmed at the harsh words. “You’re not even letting me choose what I want to do about my OWN safety?” you ask harshly but soft enough as to not wake Jack up.

 He’s shaking his head before you can even finish your sentence, “you don’t get it!” he insists as he implores you understand what he’s saying. “you-you’ve never had to hold your d-dead wife’s body in your hands, wishing for her to come back, wishing you could tell her how much she means to you” he insists as his eyes well with tears and your heart drops at his confession.

“And I hope I never have to feel that, but Aaron you can’t keep taking your grief out on our relationship, I  know it hurts, but how  am I supposed to think you’re ending this for me when you’re putting Haley first even in death?” you whisper and against your own better judgement, you feel a few tears fall from your eyes.

“That-That is NOT what is happening.” He says again and you can see the frustration boiling over for him, “That’s not fair to me Aaron, you know that” you say, and you watch as confusion shifts on his features, “Wait no hold on, I didn’t mean it like that-”

“You didn’t have to. I always thought you’d meant in a constructive way for me, consistently telling me when I make Jack’s meals that it’s not the way Haley would’ve made it, when you tell me not to buy certain perfumes and body washes because it reminded you too much of Haley. But now I realise that you’ve been carrying this dead weight after her death, and it’s not fair for me to be carrying it with you. I will never replace Haley, but I do know that I deserve a lot more than being compared to her everyday just because you haven’t dealt with your grief.”

“Honey, hold on, just wait please-”

“I was going to fight for you Aaron , truly.  I came into this conversation thinking of ways to help you not give up on us, but I can’t do that when the one thing pushing you is a woman I can never compete with.”

Aaron looks distraught and your heart feels simultaneously lighter and broken at the same time, His healing needed to take priority and you knew that his journey didn’t necessarily have space for you. And that was okay, at the end of the day the one thing you had always wished was to see Aaron Hotchner happy, and if that meant he had to do it without you, you would deal.

“I love you” he says, his eyes begging you to believe him, and your lips lift at his statement, as they’ve done a million times before, a force of habit. You shift closer to him and grasp his hand in yours as you place your other one on his face. His eyes close at the contact and he starts shaking his head, “Don’t- don’t do this right now. Please don’t do this Y/N.” his voice cracks.

Your lips quivers and you attempt to move your hand to smother the sob building in your chest but as your hand lifts off of his cheek his eyes are open wide, alarmed to feel you slipping away and he grasps you closer to him, looking into your eyes wildly as you look into his eyes, hoping all of your love is shining through them. “You know I have to.” You whisper and his expression is pained as he feels your hands run through his hair.

“I  can’t do this without you” he confesses as he chokes on his tears, his hands grasping to your hips and arms as though you’d disappear if he looked away. “You’re going to be just fine, I promise” you say, and he shakes his head before the sobs escape him and he leans his head into your body as sobs wrack through his body. Warbled cries of “I’m sorry” flood from him and all you can do is hold him through it, hoping it  brings him some form of comfort.

You console him until he tires himself out, he looks so much more peaceful when he’s asleep, his furrowed brow is smoothed out and if not for the tear tracks running down his cheeks you would never be able to know how much pain he was just in. You manoeuvre him to lay on the couch, a suitable enough pillow under his head and a soft blanket covering him. Your hand still lays outstretched in his grip, and you bite your lip as you try to let him let go.

As  soon as your hand leaves his grip, he’s  whimpering and grasping for some form of contact from you, you quickly snatch one of Jack’s teddy bears from the floor and you place it within his grasp, he grasps it almost immediately and holds it close to his chest. Your eyes mist over and you take a few minutes to breathe deeply and once calm, you quickly plan.

You take an old overnight bag you used to use before you started staying for weekends, such as this one. You pack the clothes you use the most and some work essentials before packing up your toiletries and everything else that can fit in your car. Everything looks so immensely empty when all your stuff is gone, with a quick little kiss to Jack’s cheek, you switch on your car, and you drive the route to your apartment.

In the silence and solace of your car, you allow yourself to break, sobs wrack through your body and your scream and cry as you make the drive to your place. You break again when you see the emptiness and coldness of your apartment, there’s none of Jack’s drawings on the fridge, none of Aarons past case files on the dining table, none of their shoes at the entrance and none of everything of what you loved and missed dearly.

Which brings you to now, in your bed, unable to look at the other side usually occupied by an Aaron sized lump. You don’t sleep, when the sun starts rising and coming through your room, you don’t move. When your alarm goes off at 7AM, you don’t move. When Aaron’s name flashes on your screen with multiple unanswered calls, you don’t move. You eventually get  up to go to work and exist throughout the day.

Nobody asks you what’s wrong and you don’t divulge, you know it will take you a long time to feel okay enough to even see Aaron again but for now, you can mourn and think of what could have been as you learn how to live without half of yourself.

[deliciousangelfestival]

Another Ending - 6 | spy!Bucky

Character: ex!Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Summary: It was supposed to be a short week watching over your niece, who loves romance books. She thought you were just a normal aunt, but it turns out you have secrets.

Tags: Spies, action, threat, offense, fight scene, violence, romance, comedy.

Chapter 1 , Chapter 2 , Chapter 3 , Chapter 4 , Chapter 5 , Chapter 6 ,-

Main Masterlist || If you enjoy my work, please consider buying me a coffee on Ko-fi 🙏🏻

Thank you to everyone who has read this chapter. Leave a comment and Reblog, please. I'd love to hear your thoughts. ❤️

Lori was spinning around the room, singing with a mischievous grin on her face, "Aunt is a nasty girl, yeah, she's a nasty girl," mimicking the moves from a viral dance she must have seen online.

You rolled your eyes, wincing slightly as Bucky gently cleaned and treated the wound on your arm. He glanced at Lori with a mixture of amusement and annoyance.

Meanwhile, Henry, sitting nearby with a puzzled look, watched Lori's performance unfold. "What on earth is she doing?" he asked, clearly baffled by her antics.

"She's making fun of me," you replied, sighing as you glanced over at your niece. Lori continued her exaggerated dance, clearly enjoying herself.

Bucky, focused on wrapping the bandage around your arm, muttered, "She's not nasty." His voice was calm, but there was a flicker of tension in his eyes.

Lori suddenly stopped dancing and sprinted over to you, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "Tell me more about your ex!" she demanded, her curiosity getting the better of her.

You noticed Bucky’s hands falter for a moment as he tied the bandage a little tighter than necessary, his jaw clenched ever so slightly. "He's not my ex," you corrected, your tone firm but tinged with frustration.

Lori giggled, clearly enjoying teasing you. "Yeah... right..." she drawled, drawing out the word as she smirked knowingly.

You shook your head, exasperated. Your niece, always with her head in the clouds, had now latched onto the idea of some dramatic romance after discovering that you had encountered someone from your past.

And that someone was the very reason you were sitting here now, with fresh bandages and a sore arm. Lori’s song and dance were just her way of processing the excitement of what she imagined to be a grand love story, not realizing the pain and complexity it actually brought.

🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀

24 hours ago

"What you said is pointless because we don't have the data," you replied, frustration lacing your tone.

Henry shrugged nonchalantly. "Well, that might be true, but I know where they hide it."

A groan escaped your lips, and you brought a hand to cover your face. "I hate where this is going."

"Why?" Lori asked, her eyes lighting up with interest.

Bucky leaned forward, his expression serious. "You want us to steal it," he stated flatly, already seeing the direction Henry was headed.

Henry chuckled, waving his hand dismissively. "Steal is such a strong word. I prefer to think of it as... liberating the truth. Recovering what's rightfully ours."

You shot him a skeptical look. "Liberating the truth? That sounds like something straight out of a heist movie."

Lori’s eyes widened with excitement. "A heist? Oh, this is so cool! Can I help? Please, let me help!"

Bucky gave her a wary glance. "This isn’t a game, Lori. It’s dangerous."

Lori bounced on her toes, her enthusiasm undiminished. "I know, but I want to be part of it! I can do it, I promise! You said I was a good actress, remember? I could be the distraction or, like, the tech whiz or something! Whatever you need!"

Henry grinned, clearly amused by her enthusiasm. "See? The girl’s got the right attitude! Nobody would suspect someone like her to be involved in espionage."

You sighed but couldn’t help the smile that tugged at your lips. "Alright, alright. If Lori wants in, then we’ll find a role for her. But if this goes sideways, it’s on you, Henry."

Lori clapped her hands, practically vibrating with excitement. "Yes! This is going to be awesome! I can’t wait!"

Henry clapped his hands together, his smile broadening. "That's the spirit! Now, let's get to work. We have some planning to do."

At Charity Event

The grand lobby of the company was abuzz with activity. Children laughed and played, their faces painted with bright colors. The "Make It Together" charity event, hosted by the company’s CEO, had drawn a large crowd.

Both of you are planning to steal data from a CEO known for holding everyone’s dirty secrets. This CEO also loves to host charity events at his company to enhance his public image and boost his business.

Dressed as a happy family, you and Bucky played the part of doting parents, while Lori, full of youthful enthusiasm, easily fit the role of your daughter. Henry, blending in with the crowd, kept a vigilant eye on the situation.

Henry knew about the vault because he had been there when the CEO proudly showcased it and placed the secret data inside.

As you and Bucky moved toward the restricted areas, you leaned in close, whispering urgently, “If things go south, remember—no matter what happens, save Lori first. She’s the priority.”

Bucky’s brow furrowed in concern. “I don’t think—”

You cut him off, your voice firm but laden with emotion. “This is my only request, Bucky. Please.”

Bucky nodded, his expression serious. “I understand. But I’ll do everything I can to keep you safe too.”

As you and Lori approached the vault with Henry’s directions, Bucky positioned himself by the entrance, watching for any sign of trouble. You worked swiftly with the digital key cracker, trying to stay calm despite the tension.

Inside the Vault

The vault door opened with a soft click, revealing rows of safety deposit boxes and data drives. Lori, playing her role perfectly, had successfully distracted the guard, allowing you and Bucky to enter unnoticed.

“Got it,” you whispered, retrieving the data drive from its place on the shelf. “Let’s get out.”

Suddenly, a familiar voice cut through the tense atmosphere. “Well, well, if it isn’t my favorite double agent.”

You froze, hearing that familiar voice filled with spite. Standing in front of you was Romeo, your former colleague. He leaned casually against the doorframe, his eyes locked on you with a mixture of surprise and annoyance.

“Romeo,” you said, trying to remain composed. “What are you doing here?”

Romeo’s smirk was a blend of flirtatiousness and anger. “I didn’t expect to see you here, especially not with him."

Bucky stepped forward, his eyes narrowing. “We don’t have time for this.”

Romeo’s gaze flicked to Bucky, then back to you. His voice dripped with sarcasm. “I suppose it was only a matter of time before you chose another. I’m just curious—did you miss me at all, or was it all just part of the job?”

You kept your tone even, but the past echoed in your words. “It was always part of the job, Romeo. Nothing more.”

Romeo's eyes flashed with a mix of fury and betrayal. He leaned in closer, his voice dripping with contempt. “Of all people, you choose to work with him? The most wanted fugitive and the worst traitor?” His tone was laced with disbelief as he gestured toward Bucky with a sharp, accusing finger.

Bucky stepped in, his voice firm. “Well, she chose me.”

The words hit Romeo hard. His face contorted with anger. “Oh, so that’s it? You’re just going to flaunt it in my face? How charming. I always knew you had a talent for stealing—both hearts and secrets.”

Lori, watching from a distance, could hardly believe the scene unfolding before her. She stayed silent, her eyes wide with excitement and curiosity. This is a LOVE TRIANGLE!

You took a deep breath, trying to focus on the task at hand. “Romeo. This isn’t about us anymore.”

Romeo’s anger flared. “I guess some things never change. You always had a knack for making everything personal.”

Before you could react, Romeo lunged, reaching for the data drive. Bucky moved to intercept him, but Romeo’s partner appeared, grabbing your arm and twisting it painfully.

“Gotcha,” the partner sneered.

You struggled free, delivering a swift kick to his side. The fight erupted in full force as Bucky and Romeo grappled, exchanging blows. You managed to push back your attacker, but Romeo drew a knife, aiming it directly at Lori.

Without thinking, you threw yourself in front of her, taking the hit to your side. Bucky’s eyes widened in horror. “Y/N!”

You gritted your teeth, trying to stay upright. “Get Lori out of here!”

Bucky fought off Romeo and his partner with renewed determination, eventually knocking Romeo out cold. He helped you toward the exit, Lori’s worried face visible in the doorway.

Henry, who had been monitoring from outside, was already pulling up in the getaway car. “Get in!” he shouted.

Bucky helped you into the back seat, and Lori followed closely. The car sped away from the building, leaving the chaos behind.

As the adrenaline began to wane, Bucky pressed a hand to your wound, his face a mask of concern. “Hold on, we’re almost clear.”

Lori, her face pale but determined, asked quietly, “Aunt, are you okay?”

You managed a weak smile despite the pain. “I’m fine, Lori. Just a scratch.”

Henry glanced back through the rearview mirror. “Was it worth it?”

You held up the data drive, the evidence of the CEO’s wrongdoings. “We got what we needed.”

Henry grinned, relieved. “Then let’s get out of here before more agents show up.”

The car sped into the night, leaving the confrontation and the chaos of the charity event behind. You leaned back in your seat, clutching the drive tightly. Despite the pain and the narrow escape, you knew you had accomplished your mission.

🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀

Present Time

Lori was still buzzing with excitement, peppering you with questions about Romeo. Bucky, visibly agitated, clenched his jaw and avoided eye contact, his jealousy simmering beneath the surface.

Meanwhile, Henry was in the other room, trying to uncripted the drive. He took a drag from his cigar but suddenly erupted into a fit of uncontrollable coughing. The sound echoed through the room, making him look vulnerable.

Lori quickly sprang into action, grabbing a glass of water and handing it to Henry with a concerned expression. “Here, drink this,” she said softly.

Henry accepted the glass with a grateful nod. “Thank you.”

Lori watched him closely, her concern deepening. “How long have you been sick?”

Henry looked up, surprised by her insight. “How did you know?”

Lori pointed at the medicine in his bag, her voice carrying a tone of familiarity. “I used to help my mother take care of my father when he was sick. I remember most of the names of the medicines he used.”

Henry was impressed by her knowledge. His gaze softened, though his eyes still held a trace of sadness. “I just found out,” he admitted. “My life is now just counting days.” The doctor didn’t tell him, but he knew. That’s why he doesn’t want to die miserably in the nursing home.

Lori’s expression reflected a deep empathy, recognizing the bitterness in his words that mirrored her own father’s struggles. She glanced at the cigar and whiskey near Henry, then met his eyes with a gentle resolve.

“Do what you love while you still can,” she said quietly.

Henry chuckled, a bitter but appreciative smile playing on his lips. “I will.”

🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀

As Bucky finished treating your wound, the dim light from the room cast soft shadows across his face. He looked up, his expression serious yet tender.

“You’re in the danger zone, James. Why did you try to find me?” you asked, your voice tinged with concern.

Bucky’s gaze locked with yours, filled with a depth of emotion that made your heart ache. “I realized that knowing I can’t be with you forever is haunting me.”

You studied him, feeling the weight of his words. The room seemed to shrink around you, making the moment feel intensely intimate.

Bucky continued, his voice hushed but resolute. “I know I’m a bad person. I’ve lived my life constantly looking over my shoulder. If I die tomorrow, at least I need you to know how I feel. I don’t want to leave this world with regrets.”

You felt a lump in your throat, a mix of frustration and tenderness. “You’re a fool, Bucky.”

He let out a soft, bittersweet chuckle, a faint smile playing on his lips. “I know.”

“That’s why I liked you,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. The words hung in the air between you, carrying an unspoken promise.

Bucky’s smile grew, and he reached out, gently cupping your face in his hands. The warmth of his touch sent a shiver down your spine. “I’ve always liked you too. Even when I didn’t want to admit it.”

His eyes searched yours, and for a moment, the world outside seemed to disappear. You could see the vulnerability and longing in his gaze, and it mirrored your own feelings.

Slowly, he leaned in, his breath mingling with yours. “If we make it out of this, let’s promise to take whatever chances we can get. Let’s not waste another moment.”

Your heart raced as you closed the distance between you, sharing a kiss that spoke of all the unspoken words and emotions that had built up over time. The kiss was both tender and passionate, a release of all the feelings that had been pent up for so long.

When you finally pulled away, your foreheads rested together, and Bucky’s eyes were filled with a mix of relief and hope. “Let’s fight for a future where we can be together,” he whispered.

You nodded, your heart full of resolve and affection. “We will.”

As the romantic moment unfolded, a sense of quiet intimacy enveloped you and Bucky. But that peace was abruptly interrupted by the sound of a soft chuckle. Both of you turned, your sighs of frustration mingling with the realization that you were being watched.

There, peeking around the edge of the door, was Lori, her eyes wide with curiosity and amusement. You and Bucky exchanged a knowing glance, recognizing that your private moment had been intruded upon.

"Lori!" you called out, your voice a mix of exasperation and embarrassment.

Lori’s face broke into a playful grin, and she quickly darted away, her laughter echoing down the hallway as she ran.

Bucky shook his head with a chuckle, the tension from the moment melting away. You couldn’t help but smile at Lori’s antics, feeling a sense of warmth despite the interruption.

Bucky turned to you, his eyes softening with affection. “Well, at least she’s in good spirits.”

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[cherubharrington]

I only have eyes for you

18+mdni

Authors note: this is part 2 to Rafe staring at reader.

You tried to rationalize him staring at you. Especially that intensely. Maybe he was zoning out. You decided to chalk it up as that. To not think so hard on it.

Until he did it more times than one. His eyes moved any direction you did.

You felt your niece tuck at the bottom of your dress. You looked down at her as she stared up at you. She gesticulated for you to come closer, so you bend on your knees to hear what she had to say.

“Why is that guy staring at you?” She whispered into your ear. So you weren’t the only one who saw that. “He’s creepy.”

You don’t know how you caught the attention of Rafe Cameron. You never would have assumed you were even on his radar. You always had your nose in a book. There wasn’t anything you thought made anyone think you were interesting. Which you took offense too because you felt like you were actually more interesting than people would think. But you knew you couldn’t control how people felt about you. So you just ignored it.

But Rafe Cameron? That was weird and didn’t make any sense to you.

“Don’t worry about it. He’s probably just zoning out.” But even your niece wasn’t convinced.

A few more instances of this occurred, and you were confused. You didn’t understand why he was staring so much. You tried to ignore it but finally, it was like he knew you were frustrated. He had finally decided to approach you.

“Hey, I’m Rafe Cameron. But you probably know that already.” He said smugly.

“Yes, Rafe. I know who you are. You’re all any girl can talks bout.” You say, annoyed. He smiles at you, his gaze drinking you in from head to toe. It’s silent as he does so, you can’t exactly hide from him. Your crop top and low rise denim shorts, didn’t really leave much to the imagination.

“So, how come I didn’t see you until midsummers?”

“We just moved here. Like two months back. Wasn’t really in the mood to go into the heat when the ac did me just fine.” He smiles at you, his hands finding yours. Rubbing his thumb on your skin.

“A pretty girl like you coop up in her room for two months. Must have been boring.” A blush appears on your face, betraying you. “You don’t have to worry about being bored anymore.”

His dick was deep inside of you, your hands on the sides of his face. You watched as he disappeared into you and out again.

“Fuck, this pussy.” He says, he’s bending your legs back for easier access. His hands on your thighs. “I couldn’t wait to get my hands on you.” He grunted.

“Fuck, Rafe. I-“

“Yeah, yeah. You love my dick huh? Can’t even speak.” His thrusts speeds up, more violent as he does so.

“Mhm. I love your dick.” You breathe out. He lets go of your legs, allowing you to wrap your legs around his waist. He cups your face, bringing your face up to stare at him. “Pretty girl. So fucking pretty. Look at you, the way I’m destroying you. You’re mine. Never letting anyone take you now.”

The lewd noises of him thrusting in you fills the room. You can’t even think, but a part of you is conscious enough to think “did I just make a mistake?”

Taglist

@sublimepenguinpeach-blog @queenvane64 @modesttiger

[senawashere]

We're on this together. (Chapter I)

Bradley Bradshaw × Fem!Wife!Reader

Summary: Nobody warned you for how hard it is to become a mother,same for Bradley.

TW: infertility,mentions of miscarrige,mentions of hospital,mentions of getting pregnant,mentiones of ivf. Mostly angst.

Tears were streaming down your face,your hands were trembling. Searching for Bradley's number in your contact list has never been this difficult.

Your fingers slid across parts of the screen you didn't want to touch, making your frustration even worse.

The phone line rang at a deafening volume. Once, twice, three times until it goes to voicemail.

His stupid voicemail.

"Hi,its me Bradley. Please drop your message!"

Taking this as a sign, you chose not to try again.

After all, talking to Bradley about it right now would only make him worry for nothing, considering he was busy on deployment and miles away from you. He was about to return this week.

It wasn't something he could solve. Maybe it was but not right now.

Within a few minutes your phone rang. As his name popped up on the screen, a heart emoji next to it and his photo of him grinning stupidly, you felt terrible for doing this to him.

Not only did you let down your own dreams, you were about to let down his too.

You replied, remaining silent. You expected your voice to sound like a lump in your throat.

"Baby, are you there? I couldn't get to the phone in time at first."

You were motionless, your lack of words showed him that. "I'm fine", giving yourself some time, you suddenly started to feel everything you didn't feel until you got home.

"I was at the doctor's today."

"Why are you talking like it's the end of the world? Are you okay?"

Throughout his breathing, it was easy to imagine him even stopping whatever he was doing to pay better attention to you; Not because it wasn't there before. You should have called Penny or someone, they would know how to take care of you.

"Wait, is it about babies? Tell me you're joking," he finished with a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. You could imagine and hear it perfectly.

In the past, when you received good news, you would pretend that something bad was coming, now it's just another thing you regret doing.

You were selfish for talking to him, he was so far away; You could talk to him about it when he got home.

Talking and doing this and that now would cause him more anxiety than he ever had in his hectic daily tour life. Still, he was the only one you needed.

"No, quite the opposite."

The call suffered a long pause, filled with his deep sighs and persistent tears streaming down his cheeks.

You didn't let a single tear fall until you got home, but did you verbalize it? Putting it into words made things different; it felt more real.

"Fuck," he mumbled, clearly a little out of place.

“I can't have kids, Bradley,” your words were interrupted by the growl you were trying to hold back.

He could tell when you were talking to him that everything hit you at once. Over the years, he was able to recognize even small details.

''I'm the reason we tried and it never worked. I cursed it."

"No, baby," he took a deep breath. "Please don't blame yourself. You know it's not your fault." You ran your fingers desperately through your hair; This is what it must be like to feel useless on the phone. Just what you imagined before you made the call. It was bad to announce this to him. "Are you alone? I can ask someone to check on you. They’ll do that, okay?

“Please,” You didn't want to spend the rest of the day by yourself. Also, even though you didn't want to talk to anyone but Bradley, you knew Penny would understand you better, she knew how to make you feel less bad, it would be nice to be around her. And once she mentioned she went through something like that so maybe she would understand you.

Being alone with your harsh thoughts will not be a good option anyway. "I thought about calling her, but I finally gave up, I didn't know what to do, I still don't. Calling you still doesn't seem like a good idea, but I didn't know what to do."

Your weak voice was killing Bradley. If it made him sad to hear that, he couldn't imagine what it was like for you.

"You did great, baby, this is a tough situation but we're on this journey together. You can ask for anything baby, remember?" He smiled, a muffled smile came over the line; It made you feel a little better.

"We can still have children, you know that."

You wanted to tell him that what works for others may not work for you, that your condition may not be that malleable because your condition is genetic. Still, you didn't know if they were true or not, all your thoughts might just be the result of your momentary frustration, but they might also be true.

You need to talk to Bradley about this, everything that's going on in his mind. You didn't want to do this over the phone anymore.

“We can try,” you sniffled, still avoiding the tears you didn't even know were falling. "We can try." You repeated, trying to convince yourself.

"Talk to me, baby. Try to distract yourself a bit, huh? Please. Do you want me to turn the call off? Maybe you can take a long bath with your favorite bubbles or eat something different. That might help."

Even though it sounded wrong, his desperation to help you was adorable. Talking to him made everything perfect, his voice was soothing, you could hear him talking for hours. Now it was no different.

“I just want to hear your voice,” you said, lying on the cold floor of the main room. It would be nice to sleep. It seemed reasonable to forget the previous hours for a few minutes. "You are busy?"

"Not exactly."

"Then tell me how the mission went."

His voice sounded flatter and softer, you could imagine how uneasy he was even from the phone, it was possible to imagine him striding around the room with the phone in his hand. He talked about the mission details the night before. The contrast of how you described your previous day with what happened at the right moment was painful, happy and suddenly you were breaking it.

Everyone knew that Bradley dreamed of having kids, that kids were running around the house and so were you, you wanted to have kids with him even more but with you he would never have one.

"Can I say something?" You asked, taking a deep breath,cutting through his words. "I love you,I love you so much."

Everything was unfair, you both tried so hard. He, too, had become weak from trying, just like you.

"I love you too, baby. This," you could see him in your mind, pausing and gesturing with his hands, "this won't change anything,okay? I still love you so much as the day i fell in love with you."

"We are on this journey together."

"We are on this journey together.”

—-----

Your body trembled.

A cold hand was wandering around your waist as you slowly opened your eyes, feeling a ridiculous headache fill your vision. Your eyes found Bradley crouched on the ground in front of you, and he looked good compared to you. His eye bags were not purple from the 4 hour sleep he was getting,or his hair wasn't messy after the cold,rainy and windy weather out there.

"What are you doing here?" You frowned. Bradley chuckled as you laid your head down once the headache made you feel like you were going to throw up. He could answer your question but you were flattered, he wouldn't think you noticed he was there because he knew you needed him.

So he ignored it, helping you get up.

"Come on, get up. It's cold on the floor, I'll put you to bed." He tried to get you to stand up for him - he failed; but you shifted your weight onto his body, wrapping your arms around his neck, which he found worriedly cute.

“I need you,” you whispered, drunk and sleepy, burying your face in his coat. Let its scent warm you. He smelled amazing.

It was a relief to hear him say that. He didn't want to get into an argument about how it would affect his job in the near future, as you had fought before for the same reason. "I know my baby." He kissed your hair, hugged your waist, and carried you to your room. “She wants to lay down with me.”

He laid you down on the bed, doing the same as he lay on your side, face up and facing the white ceiling.

They both knew it was necessary to speak, but neither knew who should speak first or what they should speak about.

You ran your fingers over his stomach, placing your palm under his shirt, warming his cold hand with your body. You moved closer to his body, nestling into his side as he wrapped his arm around you.

"Tell me, what's on your mind?" He said without looking directly at you.

"There's a lot", your mere words made his throat dry. “It's weird knowing your body can't do what it's supposed to do, especially when you want it to,” you gasped through sobs, his grip pulling you closer to his chest for comfort. "I'm afraid you'll stay with me and a few years from now you'll realize you made the wrong choice." These words hurt him. It hurt him so much to see you blaming yourself.

He hugged you even tighter and asked you to look at him. "I'm not going to leave you, okay? I'm in love with you. That won't change, and it's not your fault. We can try IVF as if it will work, and it's worked for a few people, and we'll have a happy and healthy baby. We have the money for it. If the money I make as a pilot isn't enough, i can even find a part-time job. I can enter just for you, I'm married to you and I love you so much, why should I leave you?"

There were tears in your eyes and you hoped he was right. "What if it doesn't work? If my body miscarries? If we try and never succeed? I don't know if I'm ready to try again-"

Before you finished your sentence, he grabbed your cheek and gave you a messy kiss. He was far from okay, he was desperate, you didn't know how to decipher whether he was trying to silence you or show his emotions. The salty taste of your tears accompanied by the burning in his throat didn't help at all.

You put your hand on his chest and stop him. He was in distress, he probably wanted to stop you with a waterfall of negative thoughts but he didn't know how.

“I don't want to try, I just don't know what to do yet, and it's killing me right now.” You were complaining.

He kissed your forehead and let you lie down.

"We will find a way. It's still new, we can think better or find other ways. Adoption is also a good option, but of course if everything happens at the right time."

You stayed silent for a while, imagining a parallel where Bradley was right and things worked out. Although you were still not convinced by this, you agreed with him. After all, there would be no other way, and you still wanted to have children.

“Adoption sounds good,” you mumbled against his chest. You hadn't thought about it yet, it hadn't even crossed your mind. “There is no risk and there is no way we can go wrong.”

You felt relieved that he was there for you, guiding you to feel better about this.

"You see?" he asked with what looked like a weak smile. "We'll find a way because I don't plan on having kids with anyone but you, so it has to be with you. Whether you like it or not." He joked, drawing a smile from you as he touched your nose with a wet kiss.

It was incredible how he managed to make even the most difficult moments seem lighter.

"Good, because I still want to have your stupid kids.”

I'm tagging people who might be interested:@ohtobeleah @sebsxphia @callsigns-haze @sorchathered @greenorangevioletgrass @teacupsandtopgun @roosterforme @floydsglasses @lyn-js @bradshawssugarbaby @torchflies @its-dee-lovely @its-the-pilot @friedchips94 @bradshawsbaby @hardballoonlove @perfectprettypisces @topguncortez @hangmanapologist @bradshawsbaddie @shanimallina87 @djs8891 @themusingofagothicsoul @promisingyounglady @the-romanian-is-bae @mamachasesmayhem @jessicab1991 @iefitzgerald-blog @charcole-grey @waterriseslew @desert-fern @promisingyounglady @lewmagoo and if you are not comfortable please tell me!!

REBLOGS,LIKES AND COMMENTS ARE HIGLY APPERICATED🤍🤍🤍

[dunmeshi-darlings]

Hello

Can I request a laios x reader, with the reader as laios ex-fiance, since their arrangements was broken off when he ran away without explanation reader have been sad and mad about it. But then someday laios mother told reader about laios become a new king after defeating a demon, reader decided to go there, because reader want to know why he ran away

I'm sorry if this is difficult to understand, English is not my first language, thank youuu

Oh you got no need to apologize its all ok. i understand what you meant. id be happy to do this. thank you so much for sending an imagine in.

Even though its been many years since laios cut off the arrangement and disappeared you still found yourself getting upset at him. He just cancelled it all and ran off to not be heard from again.

Of course over the years that anger and frustration faded greatly but every so often your mind would wander and you would feel your cheeks heat up at the thought of being abandoned like that. but over all you figure it was probably for the best anyway, you dont mind your life and that touden was always...strange to say the least even if he was a looker.

One day though as you are going about your day when laios mother approaches you, asking if she can come in. You agree and let her inside, despite your feelings about laios you had no bad blood with her. you get the both of you some tea as she starts speaking. "Did you hear about the rise of the golden kingdom?" she asks, you nod and say of course you had. it had been the talk of the entire world ever since it rose up out of the sea, seemingly out of nowhere one day. Apparently some group of adventurers defeated the mad mage and seemed like those rumors about becoming the new leader of it was true. You say casually as you take a sip of some tea. "yeah well apparently Laios was the one that defeated the mage and rules the golden kingdom now." she says so casually causing you to spit all the tea you were drinking out, shouting in confusion you ask her if you heard that right? she nods and explains what she had been told from letters from falin, you knew that falin had stayed in touch with there parents but laios had apparently cut them off a decade ago much to your surprise.

You decide to pay a visit, you feel like you almost HAVE to. you need to know why he just left you like that, why he did what he did all those years ago. It took you a bit to get to the new golden kingdom, laios definitely had travelled a far distance since your last time you saw him. By the time you reach the kingdom a full month has passed, you ask the guards to message the king telling him that "Y/N from his arranged marriage wanted to see him." of course you werent sure he would even respond, i mean why would he. he didnt want to marry you obviously so why should he care about seeing you, especially now that he is a KING of all things. However you were surprised when the guard came back and agreed to take you to the king.

When you entered you saw him sitting on a throne. To his left you see a young elf woman with twin braids beside him, This must have been his royal advisor maybe? you werent sure. However you did notice his sister beside her chatting with her...except she was different, she wasnt a tall man anymore..atleast not fully. you noticed a plume of fluffy white feathers poking out of the opening on her chest and down her arms. It was clear she had been changed by some form of magic.

As you walk closer laios asks if everyone can leave the room for a moment, he wants to talk privately with you as they agree and leave leaving only you and him. "So Y/N, how have things been?" He asks awkwardly, its clear he is uncomftorable and doesnt know what to say. You had thought of the things you would say to him for years now, over and over you had gone over in your head what you were going to say to the man that just up and left you like that. you would be furious and scream, sob and cry, all the words you planned to say just dissapear and all you can say is a single word. "why.."

He sighs as he rubs his neck and begins to explain, He tells you how he had began to despise his parents for how they let falin be treated, and how instead of supporting her and her talents they sent her away to the magic school on a different continent. He had grown to hate his parents (more so his father but he had no fond feelings towards his mother either) even though falin kept in contact with them. He also explained how he never felt comfortable around people, that he had always felt more comfortable around monsters...and that in truth he hated people. Plus he admits he wasnt the richest person in the world so would have been able to give you a proper dowry. All of these together made him feel like he wouldnt have been able to give you the life you deserved, he didnt want you to be stuck with a man that hated everyone around him and hated where he lived and wanted to leave and get as far away as he could. He figured that wasnt fair to you, and he didnt know how to properly convey this and let you down easily so...he ran.

The weight of his words hit you harder than you expected...all this time you thought he just didnt like you or hated you ever, or he didnt care about you at all. All this time you hated him for what he did and that you swore you would get answers one day...but these werent the answers you were expected. It would have been so easy to continue to be mad at him, if he said he just didnt like you or hated you that would have been fine..you expected it at this point, but no...he did this because he didnt want to subject you to a miserable life with him..he knew you would be miserable with him if he had stayed there and he didnt want to put you through that...god this was so much harder than you were expecting. "You know....now that im king of the golden kingdom money isnt an issue..and ive made sure the kingdom is a kind place that treats everyone with kindness." you see him slump down a bit. "and since monsters come nowhere near the kingdom...if you want, we can get to know each other better..and see how we feel about each other then?" he says softly, damn that man he was a looker. you sigh, almost relieved its turned out that way. saying you would like that

[peachsayshi]

˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳ minors / ageless blogs / blank blogs - do not interact.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ tags:  mmf threesome; geto x gojo x reader; smut

notes: you can blame my horny state of mind for writing this. 

wc: 755

satoru gojo is disgusted with his behavior. he hates that every interaction with you, his best friend’s girlfriend, results in his cock straining against the fabric of his pants. all alone in his bedroom, he slips his hand underneath his boxers to do everything he can to relieve himself, and he whimpers pathetically from the slightest contact. the walls to his shared apartment with suguru are way too thin. he can hear your muffled moans, the sound of your whines feeding his heated state as he pumps even faster. when he closes his eyes he thinks about how suguru fucks you, pictures how pliable you look underneath his large frame and tries to imagine the squelching sounds your pussy makes as suguru pounds into your cunt. he cums all over himself, sinking his teeth into his pillowcase as a single tear trickles down his blushing face. he swears he’s going to stop, that he would finally get a grip on these urges but he’s caught in a vicious circle. it’s a dirty little secret he conceals - but the guilt wraps around his neck like a noose whenever you or geto smile in his direction. 

you love how much you’ve integrated yourself into suguru’s life, especially when it came to his cherished friendship with satoru. he always spoke so fondly of gojo - and sometimes you wonder just how close they were prior to you dating. you only recently began noticing a slight shift in satoru’s behavior. you tried not to dwell on it at first, and merely assumed that he was just going through something. but one night, when you snuck away from suguru’s bed to use the bathroom, you approached the door and noticed a strip of light peeking out from underneath the frame. you could hear low grunts coming from the other side, and your stomach coiled because you immediately picked up on what was happening. satoru was moaning softly to himself, cursing under his breath until your name left him like a broken plea. you quickly turned on your heel, marching straight back to your boyfriend’s bedroom in utter shock. 

suguru laughs when you tell him the story. you were anxious and worried, but your boyfriend merely chuckled to himself with indifference. “poor guy. he hates being alone. he must be getting frustrated, and it looks like he isn’t getting any action,” he explained with genuine sympathy, before proceeding to point out that he was the only reason why gojo managed to get laid in the first place. “I've been neglecting my duties since we got serious,” he pointed out with a shrug. you were surprised that he wasn’t more alarmed about the situation, but suguru reassures you that satoru wouldn’t cross any lines. at this point, you wanted to satisfy your own curiosities and you boldly asked suguru if he’s ever helped out satoru when he was this deseprate. “it’s happened a few times,” your boyfriend honestly replies, “but satoru and I know it doesn’t mean anything...” 

the heavy silence is only broken when you shock suguru with a suggestion, by stating that maybe the two of you can assist satoru in his current predicament. your boyfriend’s eyes glimmer with excitement - and he can’t help but think what this could mean for the three of you in the future. 

“is this better, satoru?” suguru murmurs, his thumb tracing over gojo’s throat as he looks down at him. 

he’s standing next to the edge of the bed, while satoru lays out flat across the mattress. his best friend nods his head, panting heavily as his slender fingers press into the meat of your thighs. he’s watching you grind your hips back and forth with hooded eyes. his abdominals sink when you drag your nails across his torso, and you can’t help but smile over how pretty he looks melting beneath you. 

“fuck, she f-feels...she feels amazing...ugh, you’re so perfect...” he cries, choking out a sob as you slowly raise your hips before dropping your weight back down over his length. 

suguru raises his brow with approval, and tucks his bottom lip between his teeth as he eyes you hungrily before flashing you a tender smile. 

“she really is...” 

his fingers curl underneath satoru’s frosty locks, and he lightly massages his scalp. “you act like such a needy brat when you don’t get what you want...” he huffs, bringing the tip of his leaky cock against satoru’s lips, “now be a good boy and show me how thankful you are.” 

[weirdsht]

I really love characters with the tendency to bleed and be some human sacrifice. Tysm kdj and krs. 😭 i have a new idea altho I'm not sure if somebody's already done this. Cale and the group with someone who coughs out blood everytime they spill spoilers from the tcf novel? Like she's been transmigrated/reincarnated (whatev you desire (⁠^⁠^⁠). Bro is trying to help so bad bc they hate war so they do it subtly and carefully (imagine having to be careful with your wording, I can't even--) but can't help but shit out blood sometimes or most of the time cos they forget and get frustrated

Forgive me for i love miserable characters...

Hardbound (Paperback pt. 2) - Cale x Reader

notes: I decided to link it to another oneshot I did before because I think it fits. I hope that's okay!

tags: blood, like the whole fic is blood, heavy cursing, Cale might be ooc, NOVEL SPOILERS (near the end of book 1)

English isn’t my first language so there will be grammatical errors

Pls don't repost my work anywhere without my permission

Constructive criticisms and any kind of interaction are more than welcome

Requests are open and welcome

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Paperback Navigation Masterlist

Crimson, the colour of Cale’s hair.

That was the colour Cale can see right now. However, he is not looking at his hair.

“Ugh!”

Instead, he was looking at the blood dripping from your mouth.

“Stop speaking. This is not good for you.”

“Why not? You cough up blood all the time. Why can’t I do the same?”

You joked lightly but Cale didn’t like how weak your voice sounded. Indeed, he always coughs up blood. Especially whenever he overuses his ancient powers. But the blood he coughs up is dark red. Dead blood from his regeneration powers cleansing his body.

Not the vibrant crimson blood dripping from your chin. Blood from a beating heart, a sign of vitality as Eruhaben would say.

“I need to continue, you need to know about this. We must hurry up so just- ugh… so just listen.”

When you told Cale you were going to pull a “World Tree-nim and a Cale combo”, he didn’t know what he expected. 

It certainly wasn’t you trying to give out spoilers from your beloved book and coughing out copious amounts of blood.

“There will be monsters. Ones too hard to– Ugh! Fuck! I’m sure you understand what I mean.”

Drip

“That’s two out of five. Those things will be in a pit. It’ll look like statues, you will also see… you will also see an altar there…”

Drip

Drip

“You don’t need to speak anymore. Please, the rest of us will figure it out.”

“No, no. I’m fine really… Bear bastard, you know who it is, hostages. He’ll– Ugh!”

Drip. Drip. Drip

“It’s Tasha’s people. For a summoning– Fuck that one really hurts! I'm trying to speak as vaguely as possible already, what the hell…”

“Please… I’m going to tape your mouth shut if you don’t shut up.”

Drip

Drip

Drip. Drip. Drip

“I’d like to see you try. The tape won’t stick with all– with all this blood.”

“Haaa”

“Enough jokes. The fourth and fifth ones are connected. In Endable, watch out for bears and black– watch out for black mages. And avoid– Shit! Avoid using instant. But I'm not sure if it's… if it's possible… I need to speak… to speak to Raon. The last spoiler is for him– ugh..!”

Drip. Drip. Drip. Drip.

Cale wanted to refuse. He wanted this to end.

At first, it was just from your mouth.

The blood that is.

Then it started dripping from your left eye. Naturally, your right eye was next.

Then your nose. Then your ears.

Before the commander knew it, your entire face was covered with blood. He tried to wipe it, but they were dripping so quickly that it did nothing.

Cale doesn’t know how are you still conscious. He isn’t even sure if you’re still breathing. That was why he wanted you to shut up. That was why he desperately wanted this to stop.

But it can’t

Cale can’t refuse nor can he end this.

It was because you already made up your mind. And since you did, there’s no stopping you now.

So he gets Raon. Warned the toddler that the sight inside the room would not be pretty, but he must listen. Because their futures are resting upon the words you are about to say.

Upon the words written in your beloved book.

“Human…”

“I know… If you can’t listen I’ll listen for you and rely on the message.”

“No… I’m great and mighty. Because I’m great and mighty I shall listen to this conversation myself.”

Raon flew over to where you were. Placing himself on your lap as he uses his stubby paws to hug you.

“Ah, it feels comforting to have such a great and mighty being comforting me. But you’ll get blood on you– Ugh..!”

Drip. Drip.

The black dragon didn’t care about the blood. He just hugged you tighter at the sound of you coughing up more blood.

“Raon Miru-nim remember this well. Things might get messy and despite my meddling things might still go awry. So I’m telling you right now. In Endable, Cale might become incapacitated to fight– Fuck! Ugh, I promised to not curse in front of you…”

Drip. Drip. Drip. Drip. Drip.

Drip…

Drip..

“It will be hard, you will need to do everything yourself, without Cale. In fact, you will have to do his job– ugh… but you must do well. Remember, the first thing you have to do is have Mila-nim on standby. She can heal him.”

Cough

Drip. Drip. Drip. Drip. Drip. Drip. Drip. Drip. Drip. Drip. Drip

“I want to say more… but I’m reaching my limit…”

Raon tightened his hug and you weakly reciprocated it. You aren't sure if the wetness you feel in your shirt is from your blood or the dragon’s silent tears. Nonetheless, you still tried to hug Raon tighter.

In the meanwhile, Cale was already calling for servants and healers to attend to you as soon as you admitted your limit. His voice was laced with unusual panic. It made the others who didn’t know what was happening move with urgency.

“Raon-nim…”

“Yes?”

“You are strong, smart, great and mighty, always remember that.”

You weakly stroked Raon’s back, trying to comfort him in advance for the things about to come.

“Young master what’s going on–”

Beacrox and Ron stopped in their tracks when they saw the condition you were in.

“Ahahaha, you guys are right on time. I think… I’m going.. To…”

You couldn’t even finish your sentence for you already fell unconscious. Your body dangerously swaying to fall off from your sitting position on the couch. Luckily, Cale was nearby and managed to catch your falling body.

Cale glanced at you, then he glanced at the open book on the table.

As usual, he couldn’t see what was written on the pages. He could only see the cover title at the front and the synopsis at the back.

But that doesn’t stop him from hating that damned book that put you in this state.

If only you haven’t read that book before coming here.

If only there wasn’t a restriction placed on you by that damned book.

If only…

“Fuck, after this war is done I’m going to try and burn that shitty book one way or another. I don’t care anymore if it’s your favourite.”

note: in case it wasn't clear, the placement of the drips signifies how fast the reader's blood was gushing out

[roosterforme]

Always Ever Only You Part 8 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: The excitement you feel for your promotion ceremony gets tamped down by everything else going on. You feel like Cat is toying with Jake. You're anxious about your husband leaving for eight weeks. And you're hurt by what he says to you on your special night. 

Warnings: Fluff, smut, angst, swearing

Length: 5600 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order. Always Ever Only You masterlist. Gorgeous banner by @mak-32

"Hey there, big shot," Jake drawled from your lab doorway. It was early in the morning a few days before your promotion banquet, and you were the only one in the quiet space. Your plan had been to get to work early so you had a chance to get your nails done later, but you could already see that slipping away as he strolled in and made himself cozy. 

"Hi, Jake," you said softly. You'd been avoiding him, and he must know it. But he'd hurt your feelings by not telling you that he and Cat were...something. You could understand why she would decide not to mention it to you. But Jake? You considered him to be one of your best friends. But if he wasn't going to tell you about Cat, then you weren't going to tell him you saw them kissing in the tower. 

"You okay, Angel? Haven't seen you around much. Seen plenty of ol' Rooster's ugly mug, but none of you." His green eyes and slightly raised brow were a good indicator that he was not going to let you off so easily. 

You opened your mouth, about to tell him you'd seen plenty of him in the rec room with Cat, when suddenly she strolled in with her computer and a cup of coffee. The way she and Jake both froze up when their gazes met would have been comical if you weren't so damn annoyed with both of them. 

Jake flushed a shade of pink you never imagined you'd see on his face in a million years, and he cleared his throat as Cat walked coolly across the room toward her usual seat. "Oh, good morning," she said to both of you, taking in Jake's form from the corner of her eye. 

"Lieutenant Coleman," he replied with a dreamy look in his eyes. But Cat said nothing more, nor did she even acknowledge that he had spoken to her. But he wasn't deterred. He told you weeks ago that he planned on asking her out until she said yes. And he did it right in front of you. "Lieutenant, I was wondering if you'd like to grab dinner with me tonight?"

"No," she replied without looking at him. "No, thank you."

You rubbed at your temples, so frustrated by both of them as Jake leaned in close to you and said, "I think I almost have her. Later, Angel." And as soon as he left your workspace, you rounded on Cat.

"Can you please explain to me what is going on?" you snapped. 

She raised one eyebrow at you as she glanced over her shoulder. "Regarding?"

"Jake!" you nearly shouted.

"Oh," she replied with a shrug. "He keeps asking me out."

You slammed your computer closed and stood, and you didn't care that you were kind of looming over her. "I saw you with him. In the rec room. When we were working comms in the tower."

Cat's lips parted, but no sound came out. 

"Did you even care about going out with Cam? Or was all of this some deranged plot against Jake? Because both of them are my friends, Lieutenant Coleman."

Finally she was looking up at you with some remorse in her dark eyes. "I was thrilled when Cam asked me out, truly. But he doesn't like kids, and then the rest of the night just went downhill for me."

You nodded slowly and took a deep breath. "What about Jake?" you asked, pleased to hear that your voice sounded calmer now. 

"He's a flirt," she said without expression. "He seems interested in me. And he's gorgeous. But I can't take a man like that seriously."

"He's my friend," you reiterated, overanunciating every syllable, "and despite how it appears, he is a sweet man with fragile emotions. Please don't toy with him."

She clearly wanted to say something else, but you were on the verge of shedding some tears that would make you look like a foolish child, so you excused yourself and took your computer back to your office. 

You were overly emotional. You knew that. It was everything all at once, and your body couldn't forget the muscle memory of holding Jeremiah in your arms. Conversing with Cat was already hard enough for you; it always had been. But on top of her having Jeremiah, now she was messing with Jake's feelings and seemed to have no remorse about it at all. 

As you closed your door behind you and sank down into your desk chair, you swiped at your tears. As soon as your promotion banquet was complete, Bradley would be leaving you for two months. You were going to miss two months of trying to get pregnant. Everything you did felt like a waste of time and energy, and you half wanted to stop trying for something that felt impossible anyway. 

"Fuck," you whispered, blowing your nose with a napkin you found in your desk drawer. It was sitting next to your old nameplate, the one from before you got married and hyphenated your last name. This time next week, your husband would be well and truly in the middle of the Pacific Ocean, surrounded by young pilots who could probably get pregnant if they wanted to. "What is wrong with you?" you asked yourself out loud, but your voice sounded foreign to your own ears. 

You swallowed down the rest of your tears and texted Bradley.

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

Bradley waited in line impatiently, grabbing two sandwiches, because they seemed like the quickest option. You wanted him to bring lunch up to your office and eat with you there. It was his personal goal to try to make you as happy as he could for the next few days and fuck you nonstop right before he left when you were ovulating. Seemed like a solid plan. He grabbed a few packets of hot sauce just to make you smile and then headed for your office. 

As soon as you opened the door for him, you were tucked against his chest with your arms wrapped around his waist. "Miss me?" he asked, kissing the top of your head. 

"Little bit," you replied. "How was your morning?" 

You pushed him toward your desk chair and then settled onto his lap once he was seated. Any meal where you and he shared a chair or a plate was his favorite kind of meal. He never liked sharing anything before he met you, but now he didn't like being without you at all. 

"My morning was better than Jake's," he said, taking a bite of one of the sandwiches while you drizzled hot sauce on the other one. "I don't know what he did to piss off Hondo, but it's been weeks now of never ending pushups and running laps around the buildings and through the drainage ditch. It's fucked up, but he's taking it on the chin."

"That's not cool at all," you said, glancing at him before you nibbled on your lunch. 

"How was your morning?" he asked, still daydreaming about how he woke up with your hand on his cock. 

"Eh, not great. Honestly? Cat Coleman is once again kind of on my shit list. And I didn't tell you this before but, Roo... I saw her and Jake making out in the rec room, and I really just feel like she's on some sort of mission to......."

You were still talking, but Bradley's brain was processing too many things at once. Oh. 

"Oh," he said, leaning forward and kissing your lips, completely cutting you off. "Sweetheart. Cat Coleman."

You gave him a weird look. "Yeah, Roo. That's what I said. You know Cat." You were speaking slowly and looking at him cautiously. 

"No, Baby Girl. Cat Coleman. Coleman! And Hondo! Holy hell, that's why Jake can't get a fucking break all of a sudden. Because of Cat Coleman."

You gasped and practically tossed your sandwich onto the desk. "I completely forgot Hondo's last name, because he's just Hondo. But that's her Uncle Bernie!" 

Bradley watched your gaze go hazy as he finished his food. Did Jake know about the relation between Hondo and Cat by this point? Did he know that's why he was getting his ass handed to him every day? Did he care?

"Bradley," you snapped, now looking right at him. "Cat's letting Jake take hundreds of extra push ups every day? Like this is fun for her or something?"

"Well, hang on," he started, because he didn't know Cat well, but she seemed okay. "Maybe she doesn't know about Uncle Hondo running Jake ragged."

But he could tell you were seething now, and apparently his warm, cuddly lunch was over, because you stood and thrust your sandwich into his hand. "I'm not hungry anymore," you muttered, pulling your phone out.

Bradley sighed and finished your sandwich in three bites and stood as well. "Don't worry about Jake too much," he whispered, kissing your neck as he wrapped his arms around you from behind. You smelled good. He wanted to run his nose and lips all over your body, undress you inch by inch and take his time with you. He knew you would be ovulating soon, and he thought maybe a quickie would be good? Maybe get a jump start on the month?

"I've got to go talk to Cam," you said. "Will you lock my door when you leave?" You kissed his cheek and then you were gone. So he took a minute to make sure his erection wasn't visible, and then he locked your door before heading back to the tower. 

It looked like Jake didn't even get a lunch break. He was soaked with sweat, and it wasn't even that hot out. Bradley watched him finish some push ups before getting to his feet and standing at attention for Hondo to lay into him. Bradley stood still, not wanting to get Jake into any extra trouble. But no matter what Hondo was saying, Jake only showed him the highest level of respect. 

When Jake started to head inside where everyone would regroup for the afternoon, Bradley followed him. "If I knew you weren't getting lunch, I would have brought you the hot sauce contaminated thing my wife didn't eat."

"Nah," Jake said, wiping his forehead with his sleeve. "It's cool."

He seemed very relaxed about his push ups. Bradley wasn't sure what he should do or say. He wasn't sure how much Jake knew about Hondo. However... if he was no longer complaining about being singled out in these punishments... surely he must know.

He couldn't catch himself before he blurted out, "She saw you, man. She saw you and Cat."

Jake's eyes went wide, and he stopped wiping at his sweaty brow. "Angel saw us?"

"Yeah. And I sincerely hope you know what you're getting into here. You know who Hondo is?"

Jake nodded and softly said, "Yeah. Figured that one out on my own from the last name, and the fact that they're both from Maryland and do look a little similar."

"So what?" Bradley asked, shrugging sarcastically. "You're going to just let Hondo wear you down bit by bit? Even though you've been flying great? I take it he adamantly objects to you fucking his niece?"

Jake's eyes flashed with anger as he rounded on Bradley. "I'm not fucking her. I'm not fucking anyone, okay? I thought I made that clear."

"Okay," Bradley said, holding his hands up in surrender. 

"That's not even why I like her so much," Jake grunted. "I asked her out a bunch of times after she had that bad date with Cam Harvey. One day I asked her when we were alone in the elevator, and she told me to shut up, and then she kissed me. And then she kissed me again in the hangar. And then she kissed me in the rec room, and fuck... I don't know what to do. Because we made out in my car yesterday. And I asked her out again, and she told me no. Again."

Bradley was trying not to laugh out loud, so he simply said, "My wife is kind of pissed at you, I think. Please fix that." And then he headed for the stairs leaving Jake sweating for more than one reason. 

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

You had been avoiding everyone else for the past few days, not only because you were sick of the bullshit, but also so you could spend more time with Bradley. You started tracking when you were ovulating on your phone, but you hadn't told him about it. You didn't even really like thinking about it yourself, but since you had a visit with your doctor coming up, you wanted to be able to talk about your fertility. 

Bradley let you sleep in late on Saturday, and when you finally rolled out of bed, the smell of coffee and toast had your stomach growling. When you went into the kitchen, Bradley was naked, leaning against the counter and reading something he got in the mail. Tramp was sitting at his feet, hoping for a little snack. As Bradley raised a piece of toast to his mouth, he turned to look at you. 

"Morning, Sweetheart," he said, clearly startled as he flattened down the mail and tossed it carefully aside. 

"You're naked," you whispered, taking your time, letting your gaze wander everywhere. The tattoo on his right bicep made your skin feel warm, and his thick cock had you licking your lips. 

"Yeah, I've gotta wear a suit all night. I'm trying to get my freedom in now," he said with a grin.

"You're ridiculous," you giggled, closing the distance to him and pressing your lips to his tattoo. 

He wrapped his arms around you and pressed his lips to your ear, keeping you in place as the prickle of his mustache had more laughter bubbling out of you. "You want me to make you some toast?"

"How long have we been together, and you still only know how to make toast?" you asked, turning your head to kiss his lips. 

"Hey, be nice. I get better every day."

You licked his mustache, and Bradley's cock throbbed against your belly. "Yeah, you do, Roo," you whispered, smiling against his lips. As your fingertips brushed along his scarred cheek, he slowly reached for the hem of his soft UVA tee that you were wearing. You shivered as he guided the fabric up, skimming your body with his fingertips as he went. "You get better and better," you moaned. 

The shirt was discarded across the room, and Bradley's hand went right to your dainty Rooster tattoo before he grabbed you by your hips and lifted you up onto the kitchen counter as you squeaked. He sighed deeply as he planted his palms on the counter on either side of your butt and leaned in close to you.

"You don't even want toast, do you?" he asked, brushing your lips with his as you looped your arms around his neck.  

"No," you whispered, nipping at him as he pulled away a few inches. "I don't want toast."

You spread your legs wide and let your toes trail up and down his legs, urging him closer, but he just smirked. "Tell me what you want, Baby Girl. I want to hear you say it."

His tip was right there, teasing your entrance with his precum as your head tipped back, and a soft, needy sound escaped you. Bradley's hands went to your hips, fingers digging gently into your flesh. When you met his eyes, you knew he was ready to go, but you knew he wouldn't until you told him.

"I want something sweet for breakfast. A creampie from my husband."

"God damnit," Bradley groaned as his big hands squeezed your hips. "I'm all yours."

As you scooted to the very edge of the counter and took his length in one of your hands, you guided him inside you where he belonged. "Yeah, you are," you confirmed, and then he started thrusting. You had to hold on tight as he whispered the loveliest things that made you feel like you were going to float away.

"I love you."

"You're perfect."

"I was made for you."

"Show me your pretty eyes when you cum for me."

So you did. And even though you were sweaty and your glasses were crooked on your nose, Bradley told you that you were everything he wanted, and he gave you that sweet creempie after serving up a delicious orgasm on a silver platter.

You kept him buried deep, his lips on your shoulder as you cradled his head and stroked your fingers through his hair. "I love you, Roo." He continued to treat your oversensitive skin to his lips and hands, making no move to leave you yet. After a few more minutes, when his mouth settled on your collar bone and your hands were enjoying the feel of his biceps, you thought he might get hard again while he was still inside you. 

Just as your pussy pulsed with excitement at the idea, Tramp ran to the front door, barking up a storm. Bradley leaned to the side and groaned as he looked out the window. "It's Jake's car."

You whined and tried to keep him in place, but Bradley pulled his cock free of your pussy, and you knew his cum was dripping onto the granite counter by the look on his face. "So pretty," he whispered, swiping his fingers through the mess quickly, and when you parted your lips, he slipped his fingers into your mouth. "Such a filthy wife." You sucked his fingers clean, and then there was a hard knock on the door, and you were scrambling for your shirt. Bradley ran to the bedroom, but a few seconds later, he threw you a pair of your leggings. 

"I'm getting in the shower," he informed you as you pulled your leggings up over your messy, sticky thighs. 

He was gone again as there was another knock on the door. "I'm coming!" you shouted, giggling, because you just did. But when you opened the door, Jake was standing there with a huge bouquet of flowers. "Hi," you said a little cautiously. 

"Angel," he drawled, handing the blooms to you with a shrug. "You gonna invite me in?"

You could hear the shower start up in your bathroom along with one of Bradley's playlists. "Sure." He slipped past you and started playing with Tramp. "What are the flowers for?"

He looked at you like you were very dense. "You're being promoted tonight, Lieutenant Commander. And, I've been a bit of an ass."

You snorted and carried the flowers to the kitchen, setting them down next to Bradley's mail pile. "Well, that's nothing new."

"No," he replied, "I suppose not. But I was rude to you the other morning, ignoring you as soon as Cat got there."

You sighed and eyed him carefully. "You shouldn't let her take advantage of you. I know about you and Cat, okay? I saw you in the tower like a week and a half ago, kissing in the rec room." Your voice sounded bitter, and you felt like you needed to defend yourself, but he was already talking. 

"I know you know. Rooster told me. And I'm sorry you didn't hear it from me first, Angel." His brow was creased, and he was looking at the floor.

"Why do you look sad? You're dating Cat."

He met your eyes instantly. "Is that what you think? Angel, she won't go out with me at all. I've asked so many times, but she just wants to mess around." He ran his hand up and down the back of his neck and muttered, "I'm getting the impression she wants to sleep with me as long as I'm willing to keep it quiet."

Your blood was absolutely boiling now as you pulled him into a hug.

"Hey, no, it's okay," he whispered, patting your back before pulling away again. "I didn't even come here to talk about that. I just wanted to say good luck, and I can't wait to see your new pin next week. Oh, and I'll be around if you need anything when Rooster's gone."

Just then your husband strolled back into the kitchen, thankfully wearing clothes this time. He just picked up his mug of what must be room temperature coffee and kissed your cheek. "Listen to Jake, Sweetheart. You call him first if anything happens."

You rolled your eyes as Bradley smirked and leaned against the counter where you'd recently been sitting, stuffed full of his cock. "I will." 

The three of you chatted for a bit, but when you noticed that it was noon, you kicked Jake out so you could start getting ready for the night. But you were happy Jake had stopped by. It made you beyond upset that Cat was toying with him, but he wouldn't talk about it any further. 

When Bradley led you through your bedroom and into the bathroom, you smiled. "Why don't you take a nice, long bath before we get ready to go?'

You kissed him as he patted your butt and leaned down to get the water ready for you. And then he brought you a flute of champagne and a sandwich, and you soaked until the water started to turn cold. 

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

Bradley didn't know why he was so nervous. He had been nowhere near this bad when he was the one being promoted to Lieutenant Commander. But now that it was your turn, it was a combination of so many things. He was proud of you, and he wanted everyone to know it. He watched you get dressed earlier, and he knew that you were wearing one of your matching sets of sexy honeymoon underwear. He was nervous he'd put your pin on wrong. He was supposed to be texting photos to your parents. 

And you were ovulating, and he had a hotel room upstairs all ready for the two of you. This morning in the kitchen had been a real spur of the moment treat. He'd loved that. But he knew that you and he needed to get serious over the next day and a half before he left on deployment. 

He was spending so much time thinking about your cycle, that he almost forgot to take a picture of you being introduced with Captain Bickel and some other guy from your lab who was also being promoted. The urge to stand up, point you out and let everyone know you were his wife was strong, but he kept it together. He was, however, clapping the loudest for you. 

Your eyes caught his where he sat at the banquet table in the hotel ballroom, and he couldn't believe you were his. You were charming, beautiful and so smart, and you had that little tattoo just for him. He was obsessed, and he just knew a baby would happen eventually. It had to. You'd be the perfect mom, just like Carole. And he'd learn how to be a good dad, just like Goose. Bradley was already spending so much time thinking about baby names and the fact that he wouldn't mind a job teaching at Top Gun versus constantly flying missions.

"Oh shit," he muttered, jumping to his feet. It was time for him to pin you. Time for him to officially make you a Lieutenant Commander. He lined up off to the side of the small stage, waiting for his turn. Your bright smile and the soft curve of your cheek had his heart thudding in his chest. Nobody deserved this shit more than you did, and your smile just grew when he walked across the stage with your new pin in his hand. 

Bradley let his fingers skim along the white fabric of your jacket as he whispered, "Hey, Baby Girl."

"Hi, Roo," you replied, and he kissed your cheek softly before he added the little gold pin to your jacket that would make everyone stop and salute you. 

He patted it in place and said, "I'm proud of you." And then as an officer himself, he saluted you, and you reciprocated with a smile just for him before he left you up on the stage in the spotlight. Then your boss said so many flattering things about your work ethic and your character. And by the time you were dismissed from the stage, you came running into his arms. 

He held you against him, and you snuggled into his suit coat. When you eventually met his gaze with the most innocent looking expression on your face, he should have known you were about to make him blush. "Roo," you whined softly. "Admiral Simpson isn't here tonight. Who's desk are you doing to fuck me on, Daddy?"

You were a handful, literally and figuratively. His hands slid down your lower back to the top of the swell of your ass. "I thought you might ask about that. I got us a suite for the night. Penthouse. Pink champagne. A nice big desk with no time restraints and nobody to interrupt us."

Adoration washed over your face as you kissed his neck just above his shirt collar. "You're the best."

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

Sitting through dinner between your boss and your husband was challenging, but after a glass of wine, you managed to pull it off. On one side of you, Bickel was talking about your lab. On the other side, Bradley was whispering about eating your pussy. 

As soon as dancing started, you took Bradley by the hand and let him out into the lobby. "You're done?" he asked with a smirk. 

"Yes, I'm done. Take me to our suite and do all that shit you just promised me."

"Anything you want, Lieutenant Commander," he rasped next to your ear as he removed your hat and handed it to you. As you waited for the elevator, his lips were on your hair and his hands were working on the buttons of your jacket while he hummed a song. You were so horny, you were ready to burst, probably because you were ovulating. But you'd barely been thinking about that at all. You just wanted your husband nonstop. That's what you were focusing on. 

"Fuck me on the desk," you moaned, wrapping your arms around his neck as he pushed you back against the wall of the elevator next to the control panel and selected the top floor. His hands were smooth as he unzipped your pants and eased his hand inside. 

"I'm going to fuck you everywhere." His body was huge and warm, and he had you boxed in. "I want you to keep that sexy bra on for me. Reminds me of our honeymoon."

You moaned so loudly, you barely heard the bell indicating that you'd arrived at your floor. Bradley picked you up and carried you out into the hallway where a family was waiting to go downstairs. "Evening," he muttered unapologetically as you giggled and sucked on his neck. He looked delicious in his blue suit, but you wanted him out of it, and you wanted his cock inside you.

As soon as you saw the beautiful hotel suite and chilled champagne, Bradley had you on the desk on your back, and he was leaning over you. "You gonna let me eat that pussy, Lieutenant Commander?"

"Yes, sir!" you whined before he kissed you hard and sloppy. He was working your shoes, socks, pants and underwear off, and soon you were there in your unbuttoned jacket and wrinkly shirt, naked from the waist down. The cool air on your skin had you tugging him by his hair until he released your lips. "Get to work," you commanded, and his mustache twitched as he smiled and slipped two thick fingers inside you. "Oh!"

"Don't rush me," he grunted slowly, pushing his fingers deeper. "I have plans for this pussy. I'll take care of everything."

And he did. He knelt on the floor and pulled you closer to his mouth, blowing softly until you were whining and begging to be touched. And then he ate you out until you had tears in your eyes. 

"You're dripping onto the desk, Sweetheart," Bradley muttered reverently. "Oh my god." He licked a stripe from your asshole all the way to your clit, and you could tell you were about to cum. He used his wicked mouth and fingers in tandem until you were grasping the edge of the desk and panting. And then you came for him when he told you to. 

When you sat up in a puddle of your own juices, you were dizzy and disoriented. Bradley stripped you down to just your white bra as you enjoyed the aftershocks of your orgasm. And then while he was still dressed in his blue suit with just his hard cock hanging out the front of his pants, he kissed you softly.

"Spread 'em nice and wide for me," he instructed, squeezing your thighs. "Show me that pussy." You did as you were told, because you were smart. Your husband had plans for you. He fucked you silly so that you were leaning back with your hands braced on the desk. Bradley was big and strong, and he managed to get just the right leverage so that you were seeing stars and gasping for air with every hard stroke. It almost hurt. But it felt too good at the same time. 

"Roo," you groaned, mouth hanging open and legs spread wide. His face was red, and the veins in his neck were prominent. You wanted to lick them and the beads of sweat dripping down his cheek, but he had you pinned in place by your hips. And he didn't slow his pace until he came inside you, chanting praises about your tight pussy and your pretty tits. 

And you were still a little dizzy as you and he climbed in bed, unwilling to clean up his cum before you got cozy. You were snuggling on top of him, giggling as his suit was half on his body and half off, and he was kissing your face as he caught his breath. 

"I like promotion banquet hotel room desks," you whispered, wondering if it was a good time to go pop that bottle of champagne. 

"Fuck, Baby Girl. I like everywhere with you," he groaned, tightening his arm around you. So you decided to forego that champagne for now and bury your nose against his neck where you felt warm and loved. 

You were about to tell him how much you were going to miss him for the next eight weeks. Your lips were parted, and the words were right there. But then he kissed your forehead and said, "Okay, I was looking at the calendar earlier, and your cycle is really working in our favor. You're ovulating now, and you should be ovulating again when I get back, so really, we're only going to miss out on one month of trying."

You swallowed hard and remained silent, but your heart was beating faster in a way that was making you feel nauseous, and your lip was quivering. 

"Roo," you whispered, unsure what to say. 

"I know," he added. "It's not ideal that I'm leaving now, but at least it's not for any longer. I've been thinking about it a lot, and taking a month off isn't the end of the world."

Tears leaked from your eyes, hot and angry. It was no use trying to hide them. He knew you were crying right away. "What?" he asked, surprised by your reaction. 

You jerked your body away from his and wiped at your eyes. Suddenly you wished you were wearing more than just your bra as you gasped, "I was enjoying my night! I wasn't even thinking about that!"

He looked like you'd physically hit him. "Oh. It's just that I'm always thinking about that, Sweetheart."

"Me too!" you replied, hands shaking as you climbed out of bed. "But taking one fucking night off to be proud of myself for something in my life that I can control was feeling really good!"

He looked at you cautiously as you found your underwear and then dug around in your overnight bag for more clothing. "I'm proud of you, Baby Girl. I told you that."

"Yeah," you snapped, pulling on a tee shirt. "And then you fucking ruined it by acting like I'm a job to be done. Like getting me pregnant is something to check off your list of chores." You threw your arms out to your sides as you stood in front of where he was still laying on the bed. "But guess what, Bradley. I'm not pregnant. Sorry. I'm sorry your chores are taking so long for you to complete!"

You choked and started sobbing on the last word, and when he reached for you, he was decidedly the last thing you wanted right now. Instead you turned toward the bathroom where you could be angry and hurt in peace.

A few minutes later, you were curled up on the bath mat when he knocked softly on the door. When you didn't respond, he tried the handle which you had locked. "Will you let me come in?" he asked softly. 

You shook your head and squeezed your eyes shut, trying to fight off all of the intrusive thoughts that were already filling your head and heart. Your voice was quiet and hollow as you said, "I'm sorry I can't give you what you want." And eventually you fell asleep right there between the toilet and the tub.

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

Roo, you're a team, sweet boy. Baby Girl, you're perfect. Thanks to @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 9

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[greythemed]

𓂃 ♥︎ⴰ bloodhounds . kim gun-woo

˚ TITLE 𓂃 ♥︎ⴰ polymyxin b. ˚ WORD COUNT 𓂃 ♥︎ⴰ 9005 (i am so sorry).

“stop pressing it, you dumbass!”. you exclaim in discomfort, but shamefully not because of you.

“it’s just a bruise, some nebacetin will do it”. your boyfriend’s reaction was pissing you off more than his colleague’s grunting behind you.

“it’s not just a bruise, that was metal they were hitting you with”. your angry tone left space for your saddened one and gun-woo did not like it at all. “why did you guys agree on that anyway?!”.

“it was his idea”, they both said it simultaneously, pointing fingers at each other making you roll your eyes.

“ya, y/n”. woo-jin called you. “don’t be so mean to him, he dodged almost every punch wonsuk-subaenim threw at him”.

was that supposed to calm you down? a middle finger was pointed at the older man next to your boyfriend, gun-woo laughing.

"aish-", woojin gets up to grab a towel and you laugh a little seeing woo-jin's response. "i miss when your girlfriend wasn't a professional doctor, gunwoo-ya". gun-woo smiles shyly and you return to your job on your boyfriend's abs.

"shut up, old man". you ignored him.

"see?! she doesn't respect me!". it was your turn to laugh, ignoring him once again.

“i can’t work properly without some soothing paste, gun-woo, look at this mess”, the frustration was evident in your voice, manicured hand tracing his right side carefully which made the boy a little sad and impatient.

“it’s okay jagiya, don’t worry too much”. he turned to you after throwing a nasty looking at his best friend for not helping and held your face in his hands. he hated to admit that he could see tears forming in your eyes. “we can take a look after napping today, what do you think? you must be exhausted”.

the brutal difference between your little hand and his almost pierced skin shamefully stole his attention for a couple of minutes. without even noticing, your other hand grabbed his shorts so tightly it was starting to color your knuckles white.

worriedly, gun-woo laced his fingers with yours and made him eye-level with you, damp hair and sweaty armpits ticking his brain saying you should shower after a training session that long but his mind was nowhere near worrying about himself.

“hey, look at me”. his voice sounded lenient enough that even woo-jin got quiet on the other side of the room. "it's okay, baby, i'm gonna be fine".

“you’re the one that should be exhausted, not me”. you complain about his kindness, starry eyes becoming glossy minute after minute, making the man in front of you almost panic.

“don’t think i don’t know you worked the whole day”. he says brushing your hair behind your ear. “mr. seo said you’ve been taking your colleagues' shifts too”.

your pout only grows like a kid being caught stealing candies at a party. it was so frustrating dating a boxer when you built your whole life around saving people's lives, choosing the most efficient predicament to help someone on the verge of dying, or physically taking matters into your own hands to avoid any nasty side-effects that could change a person's life forever.

leaving patients behind to suffer wasn't an option for you, let alone postpone the pains and unattended injuries of your loved ones.

“the skin, gun-woo”, you return to ramble and point at the purple bruise on his body. “it needs bacitracin and polymyxin b otherwise it’s going to get pretty ugly. imagine the metal pierced your skin? that would be the end, god".

“baby, stop thinking about it”. he lifts your chin so you’d stop looking at the bruise. “i won and that’s what matters, right? just one more week and we’re going to the finals half, it’ll be over soon”.

a pout was formed and your lips quivered. you’ve never cried in front of gun-woo before and his reaction was pure terror. you didn’t know what got you so worked up after the match against his stupid coach and that stupid ugly machine, but you winced every time his grunts on the ring got louder and louder.

a couple of minutes into the last round, you regretted coming to see his training, he kind of forgot to tell you that it wasn't the usual gym sessions anymore, and now they were approaching a more realistic season of monthly fights coordinated by his coach.

you hated his coach from now on and that was final.

gun-woo’s eyes were round and full of stress when you cleaned the first tear that have fallen on your left cheek, averting your gaze to the table behind him and trying to distract yourself.

“people with skin infections have a higher risk of low immune responses and vice-versa”, you continue, “they can vary from mild to serious”. gun-woo grips your arm.

"baby".

"are your vaccines up to date?". you asked him and he nodded. "god, that could've turned into a fucking lockjaw or something, gun-woo". he looked at you with pity and panicked.

"i'm okay, see?". he points to his sweaty chest. "we came to the doc appointment last week and we were all good, right, hyung?". gun-woo glances at woo-jin silently asking for help.

unfortunately, gun-woo was inexperienced in this dating thing and sometimes needed the help of his dramatic hyung.

"oh, yes, yes, yes. the doctor said we were new as a baby and wonsuk-ssi even congratulated us". the boxer held his thumbs up in an exagerated sign and you resisted the urge to roll your eyes. "the diet has been doing good for us! stop worrying too much kid, you're sounding like his mom".

you looked at your boyfriend with glassy eyes and a red nose, turning your back to woo-jin so he couldn't see your crying expression and hopeless state. you trusted the man with your life just as gun-woo did, but something about the ugly-looking bruise on your boyfriend's side was starting to look too scary for you.

"neomycin, compression, elevation, and a bruise-healing diet can also help speed up the healing process, but that looks scary". breathing deeply, you point to the injured local and grimace. "15—20 minutes of ice packs for 3—4 days will do it unless the skin is pierced". you pause, talking to yourself. "we better get going or you'll start bleeding soon".

"baby".

"arnica gel is useless here". you take a step forward and breathe deeply again. "fuck it, i'm applying vaseline if it gets worse".

"y/n". gun-woo called you but none of that was working.

"tell me if it starts bleeding, please? do not press it or else the blood will fuck everything up".

“woah, she is a stress-talker i can see”. on the other side of the changing room, woo-jin's comment made you think he deserves death.

“aish-, will you stop?”. gun-woo hugged your head in his chest and grimaced at his best friend next to the door. he was starting to get frustrated with your state and didn't know what to do.

woo-jin also came to see the fight but it turns out he was only making things worse in this moment.

“what? i am too!”. woo-jin defends. “i get all talkative when i’m stressed, but just not all of that smarty stuff she sayin’”.

“baby, we’re going home yeah?”. gun-woo patted your shoulder, dismissing his friend and looking at you. “there you can take a closer look and then we order food, hm?”.

your boyfriend was waiting for your response when he got a change of plans.

“sounds good!”. woo-jin exclaimed and you could feel your boyfriend rolling his eyes.

you swear to god woo-jin wasn’t usually this persistent.

gun-woo ignored him, which you found a little cute in your opinion, and even laughed a little.

“okay, but you’ll have to promise me to rest tonight”. you look up at his eyes and your boyfriend smiles. it was different to have someone other than his annoying best hyung or his mother worrying about his well-being, and for sure it was the first time someone this 'brainly' took care of him.

after being alone for so long, gun-woo appreciated your nurturing nature like no other and wanted to stop the negative feelings blooming in your chest right now.

“okay, i promise”. he presses a quick kiss on your lips, which was accompanied by a little wince since he had to bend down to your height to reach your face.

"ooh, i'm sorry". you grimaced apologetically.

he smiled and turned to reach for his shirt beside you, putting it on while waiting for you to pick his things up. gun-woo had to admit that was the most intense fake match his coach had put him into. maybe you were right and he should rest tonight.

"i met him first". gun-woo can hear woo-jin's voice threatening you at the door. he only went to wave his coach goodbye and came back for a bickering woo-jin and a pouty y/n. "he was just fine when it was only me and him".

"you smell like belly pork and not in a good way". you replied.

"aish-, respect your elders, kid". woo-jin's eyes were round and menacing. "i saved his life more than once, okay? we are brothers at heart, we even share our clothes!".

"his mom loves me, she even cooked me bulgogi when we first met!". that was you on your tip-toes beckoning woo-jin to the door, a man at least seven inches taller than you. his face was frightened and his hands were defensively in front of him. "and i know exactly when to turn the grill on when we're going out!".

gun-woo's shirt was too tight for him to keep listening to your argument, and he definitely was starting to feel his right side itching when the tissue came in contact with the bruise.

"aish-, that was one time!". woo-jin defended. "and you'll never know how a boxer's spirit works because we invented it".

"liar! you said you preferred mayweather when you guys first met, and i know this because he told me himself".

"oh please i am a manny pacquiao enthusiast at heart and forever will be. and! i've also seen his d-".

"ya, would you both stop?". gun-woo interrupted his friend with a glare, warily pulling you back so you wouldn't hit his friend across his face. "i'm tired and it's getting late".

"he started". you pointed at the older man. "and i've seen more than his dick, you old".

"ya!". gun-woo looks at you affronted and woo-jin starts laughing, hiding his mouth when gun-woo pretends to hit him.

"she gots quite the temper, bro". woo-jin had to point it out. "woo, i'm excited! finally someone who matches my energy".

"you both should stop". your boyfriend tsks and you look at him smiling. "and you shouldn't listen to him". he says.

"don't say it like we're finished, boxer". you threaten woo-jin with your eyes and gun-woo has to stand between both of you so you wouldn't jump the man scaringly.

"ya, take good care of my lil bro for me, yeah?". he taps gun-woo's shoulders and they both smile at each other intensively.

"aish-, it looks like you're both exactly in love, stop that".

"yes! she's getting jealous!". woo-jin exclaims.

"hyung, you're wife is waiting for you, just go". gun-woo whines at the man and he smiles, seeming to finally remember he has his own real lover. "woah, that's true, i'm going!". woo-jin starts running down the hall and waving at both of you goodbye, finally letting your boyfriend go smiling like an idiot.

gun-woo takes his bag from your shoulders and you both start walking down the hall hand in hand. for now, you choose to silence your concerns about the big boy and just plan a peaceful ride back to your home.

"take your clothes off". your voice sounded a little too low for gun-woo's liking and he couldn't suppress a smile. glancing at you, he couldn't help but find his all-black gym set a little out of place in your all-pink bedroom. to no surprise, you perfectly fit in the pastel colors you were wearing.

"buy me a dinner first, sailor". he had to joke looking at you and taking his tight gym shirt off. instantly, he felt his side ache. something damp ran down his ribs and gun-woo cursed when he spotted blood in the rem of his shorts.

well, wasn't that just great?

looking at the bathroom mirror, he grimaced pressing the purple and red spot with his other hand.

"don't". you came from nowhere, taking his bigger hand off of him and analyzing the situation with - what your boyfriend liked to call - doctor face. a first-aid kit was on your arms the instant you glanced at the little blood accumulating on the bruise. gun-woo attentively stared at your facial expressions worried about what you were going to do.

to his surprise, only a sigh escaped your lips, and the boxer was guided to sit on the bathtub behind him, your little hand holding two of his fingers so he could follow you. it was funny how larger his frame was compared to yours in the small white bathroom.

"does it hurt a lot?". you ask worriedly wiping his skin.

"no". he wasn't necessarily lying, you both knew how pain tolerance worked for gun-woo. "just itchy". he made a face and clicked his tongue boringly.

you looked attentively at the injury while avoiding your hands on the more reddened area.

gun-woo thought your size was the perfect complement to your cute personality. when he first met you, your height was the first thing that he noticed after your soft hair. of course, accompanied by your scary father he didn't dare to even look at your way properly, but his first impression of you was something the boy held dearly in his heart.

your smart brain was when everything became blurry to the boxer. for a recently graduated student, gun-woo knew your knowledge was freshly put into place, and added to the great things he had heard about your intellect before meeting your father, he knew you were smart. but imagine the surprise when he first saw you dealing with your father's disease from up-close, admiring your basically perfect approach and ripeness to everything handed to you.

it didn't click him. how could someone so delicate-looking be so splendidly clever and loveable at the same time. he thought it was unfair the fact that you were so effortlessly sexy in his eyes. and that was a first for the boxer.

you were his first everything.

"this has to have knocked the air out of your lungs". you state while kneeling on the floor in front of him, making the boy gulp and avert his gaze suddenly embarrassed.

“hm, yeah”. he gulped even harder. “but just for a moment, though. coach didn’t want to stop”.

between his parted legs, you were insinuating things he had trouble forgetting, and with one more glance at you, he had to part his lips surprised because jesus christ, why were you tying your goddamn hair?

"i'm talking to wonsuk-subaenim about this no matter what". you looked up at him and he quickly averted his gaze. "that stupid machine has to go away".

two weeks ago. in this same bathroom. you were wearing your pink PJs late at night and he swore he had never seen your lips that glossy. the position was the same. he remembers it all too well and has to shake his head to not make things harder for him.

"jagi-".

"i'm serious, gun-woo". now was his turn to sigh. why were you pretending this didn't do anything to you? was he the creepy one? oh god, he definitely was the creepy one. 

his eyes were as round as a golf ball as he looked at your innocent expression and silently cursed his inappropriate thoughts.

gun-woo swore he wasn't like this before meeting you. he was a decent young man with respectable beliefs and a proud mother that admired and trusted him blindly.

being an athlete, gun-woo was often proclaimed for his self-control and disciplined routines. now, only a glance at your smooth skin without too much clothing was enough to have the man spiraling and sweating.

four months ago he wasn't like this.

"it's the second time this happens. remember that day in your mom's apartment? you told me you'd take more care of yourself". you continue to speak nonchalantly, rambling your frustrations to the man.

"it was a snap kick i wasn't ready for". he clears his throat hoping to not sound too raspy. "coach didn't tell me on time". you suppress the urge to roll your eyes.

"i am going to need an elastic bandage for this". you say more to yourself, warm hands inspecting the swelled area while your boyfriend examines your face panicked. because why were you so close to his fucking crotch? "and also a heating pad to clear up the trapped blood. will you hold it for me?". you ask him to hold the warm cloth while you searched for more things for help in the first-aid kit.

"baby, could you work on this side first?". he shyly asked, thick thighs trapping you in place to gather your attention. the boxer had to summon all the courage in the world to politely ask you this. the little yelp you let out because of the sudden touch made him blush involuntarily. "s-sorry".

his voice was so low and raspy that made you question what the hell was going on. even involuntarily, his voice always gave him in.

"oh my god, did i hurt you?". you worriedly questioned, getting up quickly so you could examine him from afar.

"no, no". he waves it off, gulping a few times so the embarrassment could pass.

it wasn't working.

"it's just that... that position". he pointed to the floor where you were previously sitting and saw exactly the moment your expression changed.

"what?". your confusion was clearly shown by your knitted brows and opened mouth.

"the position you were in... you know...". he gulped more times than he could count and could feel the fire his cheeks were on at that moment. only when his hands fled to his crotch area as if trying to hide something that your brain finally clicked.

"kim geun-woo, is that a boner? oh my god". he grimaced embarrassingly. "how could you think of things like that when your skin is basically peeling?!".

"c'mon, baby, i was trying to be discreet". he interrupts you, dying to pull your hands so he could properly apologize to you but you kept getting away. "i'm sorry, it's just that it triggered a memory of us a while ago and you tied your hair and everything and my brain stopped braining".

"you need to go to church, you pervert". his pout was something you were accustomed to, and his shy whines were a great reminder that, even if your boyfriend looked like a war trunk and sculpted by the sky itself, he still was stupidly timid when it came to things like this. "i'm joking". you laugh and he rambles.

"i'm not asking for anything! just s-stay here". he points to the floor next to his right leg, a different space from where you were before. "please".

"how long have you been like this?". a shit-earing grin was starting to adorn your face, almost forgetting about the important task you had at hand.

"i-i'm not asking anything, i swear". he repeats in despair. "i don't want you to feel uncomfortable, please".

"uncomfortable?". you approach him laughing. "baby, you're my boyfriend for a reason, you could never make me uncomfortable. that happens sometimes, no need to feel embarrassed about it".

"well, i'm just worried sometimes because of... you know what". instantly, your heart grew all soft.

"oh my god, are you talking about what i told you the other day?". your round eyes were glued to the man in front of you, hands swiftly caressing his sweaty hair while you fought the urge to kiss his forehead.

"you said you didn't have great experiences in the past and, even though i wonder sometimes, i don't feel like it would be nice to ask you which ones. so i try to just avoid situations like this so you won't think of me as just another dirty-minded creep". he explains and you kiss him.

you wanted to cry. and suck the life out of him. at the same time. because that's just how dating kim geun-woo makes you feel.

"i'd never think of you in that way, oppa". you hugged his head on your chest and he nosely laughed, finally relieved for not completely fucking things up. "i would suck you anytime, anywhere you want, you know that". you say and he looks up at you seriously.

"ya, stop teasing".

"i'm serious, i literally am in love with you and your co-".

"oh my god, you need church". he closes his eyes and breathes deeply, trying to take control of his own body.

"you're like the most romantic and sweetest guy a girl could ever want. and then your dick had to be big too!".

"ya!". gun-woo looked serious and you smiled at that. what he didn't notice was that he was gripping your ass unconsciously in his nervous state.

"pervert". you whispered in his ear and he immediately stopped.

"i'm going to go, woojin-hyung is not so mean to me as you are". he pretends to start getting up and you hold his arms laughing. his whiny tone was so cute you could die.

"i'm sorry, sorry! it's just so easy to mess with you". he glared at you and you smirked. "i can't let an injured man run around the streets alone, especially an uncontrolled one".

"just wait for this fucking thing to heal, y/n". you opened your mouth in shock. was that veins popping on his temples?

"language!".

"sorry, sorry, can you please do your job?".

you laughed at that and kneeled at his side, sensing that he was starting to become frustrated. you weren't sure why, but at this beginning of your sexual life, you found yourself often giving in to his wishes afraid that you are stepping into a hole with no way up.

gun-woo made you feel safe - not uncomfortable in any way. but sometimes you doubted the man was engaged in this type of thing at all because he seemed to skip any opportunity he has to rock your world daily. you trusted him and respected his slow pace.

you made the order in your head, soothing the area with some polymyxin b and nebacetin, soothing oils for the itchy feeling to go away, and vaseline to keep the wound moist. after that, you wrapped the bruise with an elastic bandage and gently pressed the heated cloth there for a few minutes.

too tempted, you sneaked a glance at your boyfriend's shorts.

"oh my god, it's huge".

for one second, you thought you were flying across the bathroom and the other you realized gun-woo had got up so fast you fell backward and hit your head on the marble floor. the pain shoots straight to your neck and ear almost instantly.

"omo!". gun-woo came to the rescue in panic, seeing what he has done. "are you alright?". he asked worried.

"it was a compliment, idiot!". you screamed at him, grimacing at the new feeling in your head. "what is wrong with you?".

"so now it's my fault?". he defended. "you're not supposed to be saying things like that when is not sexy time!".

“don’t say ‘sexy time’!”.

“you can’t keep doing this, i’m trying to be polite here!”.

"i was just teasing you!". you glanced at his stoic face and got up with his help, patting your head where it hurt most, thankful to find no blood in the area.

"it turns me on!". he confessed and for a minute you were glued to the ground. "it makes me want to take you to bed and have sexy time when you're all bratty and mouthy". his raspidly voice said and you had to grip the counter behind you so you wouldn't fall again.

what did he just tell you?

"oh". it was your turn to feel the fire on your cheeks. "i-i didn't know, i'm sorry, i thought...". you guiltily gulped staring at gun-woo's chest before looking him in the eyes.

"i'm trying to take things slow but you don't help, y/n". the sincerity in his raspy voice made you almost want to shy away. forwardness never looked so sexy in someone like it does to him. "i'm not that experienced, you know that, so i don't know what you like and don't like and that makes me scared to fuck it up. and, god, that makes me fucking insane because all i can think about is you all the time".

your sweaty palms gripped the bloodied rem of his shorts and you closed the gap between the two of you, steading your wobbly feet with gun-woo's help. the proximity made him crazy and you could see the mental battle he was going through in his head. you pecked his lips three times before whispering.

"why be scared?". your starry eyes locked him in place and gun-woo swore he couldn't move, your question making him confused. "i also want you all the time, oppa. i think of you all the time, that's why is so hard for me to see you getting hurt and i want to cry my eyes out when it happens. you drive me crazy, oppa".

"i'm sorry". you didn't know he was talking about what have happened in the ring or about what he was going to do to you because suddenly his expanded pupils made his eyes get darker and darker and you were almost crying from the anticipation of feeling him anywhere.

"i'm worried you'll get more hurt". one of your hands traveled to his injured side, never leaving his gaze. "you should... i'm sorry, gun-woo, we shouldn't-".

"you promise to tell me if anything feels wrong?". he cuts you off by arching your back and locking his eyes with you, entirely invading your personal space. "if you don't like something, do you promise to make me stop? because i swear to god i can't take it anymore, y/n". he whispered the last part on your mouth and you swore the cat got your tongue for a minute.

"uhum". you nod your head and gun-woo stayed still, arching his brows as if challenging you not to finish the sentence. "i promise, oppa". you said breathly, eyes focused on his and nowhere else.

you could feel all of gun-woo's desire pulsing deliciously beneath him, hard and voluminous, inciting your intimacy to slowly release lubricant.

you were curious. his face was cute and his body was a sin, but not all of the morals and good mannerisms in the world could hide the true desire of a person. you knew he always wanted more and you were so curious to find out what exactly his innocent brain had conjured in all these months of dating you.

gun-woo panted softly, having complete control of your body now that your toes were barely touching the ground, back arching even more while he took a deep breath next to your ear. and then he started teasing his own body as he rocked back and forth, slowly, in search of relief. and using you.

you kissed his neck, and there was when you worked him up with little kisses and shy licks, making him more and more susceptible to pleasure. gun-woo was such a selfless person that he felt scared of taking instead of giving and you wanted to prove him wrong. you wanted to prove to him that sex is good regardless of your position.

you didn't count on his strength in moments like this, but he was a boxer, after all, so you were silly to think he would take it easy on you. only one minute in and his grip was so strong on your skin that you were certain your ass was battered, squeezed, and still under the fabric of your slacks.

you knew his body all too well, you saw him naked countless times and so did he with you in the last 4 months. but never he did what he wanted with you. too shy, too aware, too scared to ask you. because that's just what gun-woo was.

selfless.

he pulled your face away from his neck so that he could bring his full lips to yours. you were kissed at the pace he dictated, in the way he wanted, fast and wild. both of your tongues collided in a hot, pleasurable slide.

you swore this wasn't the same man who had blushed at remembering you sucking him off minutes ago.

gun-woo sucked hard on your voluminous lips every time he withdrew his tongue, which you insisted on sucking in the most erotic way possible whenever he invaded your mouth. meanwhile, your hips were manipulated by the boxer's hands, which made them rise and fall slowly on his still-covered cock.

your hips were placed on the counter and you finally realized you didn't have much place to run after that. you were trapped between your sink and a 6ft tall man in front of you with sirened eyes that could kill you.

your pants gradually gained moisture, and the moan you let out when gun-woo gripped your ass with more force maddened the boxer even more, making him stop the kiss and go down with his stimulations on your neck and collarbone, seconds later capturing one of your clothed nipples between his lips and sucking it.

you bit your bottom lip and intertwined your fingers in gun-woo's hair, with his head tilted up, eyes closed and lips parting as he let out gasps of pure delight. the moan you let out when he invaded your pants with his hands and started unbuttoning your jeans and unconsciously scraping your clit was so purely erotic that even he grunted.

"sorry". his gruff voice was rushed as if he felt bad for you but at the same time didn't actually give a shit and was only trying to be polite - trying not to lose his complete sanity.

which was slowly faltering.

you pushed his head against your chest in response, undulating your hips over his hard prominence and the boxer's reaction was to feel a painful twinge in his pelvis and moan.

he raised his head, eyes even darker, then glared at you. he touched your chin with his thumb and slid it across your lips while breathing deeply.

you reached into his pants and touched him, initiating continuous movements along his entire length. gun-woo's lips parted and his brows furrowed, giving you the most obscene view you've ever seen of his face.

hot scar glowing in his sweaty skin and cutting the right side of his entire cheek. 

his body was getting hotter, your body was getting hotter, his cock getting harder and your pussy getting wetter. it was painful to repress his own urges.

"fuck". you brought his dick out of his shorts and jerked it off, hands almost trembling with so much tenseness your crotch area was feeling. getting him off made you want to cry.

gun-woo closed his eyes and gasped when you massaged his glans wet by pre-cum.

"gun-woo". you called him in such a whiny tone that made him go crazy, hiding his face on your neck and biting his lips until it draw blood to his mouth. "i c-can't". you tried to say and his ears perked up. "i'm too wet, i d-don't know what to do". it was embarrassing for you to confess something like that, but hearing gun-woo's grunts and quiet moans was making you wetter and wetter. and you weren't lying, you actually didn't know what to do because you've never been this turned on before.

what the hell?

"fuck, don't call me that, baby". he breathed on your neck and for a second you were afraid he could smell your fucking pre-cum pooling on your panties.

"stop moaning in my ear, for fuck's sake". you didn't know where the strength to say a full sentence came from suddenly but you were afraid a simple touch of the man was going to make you fucking cum.

is this how you feel when you fuck someone you love? mighty skies above, you'll have to do this every day now. 

"what do you want me to do when you won't stop squeezing my fucking dick, princess?". his voice sounded more like a growl than an actual human sound and you whined even louder in return.

you arched your body as he trailed his fingertips along your back, intensifying the contact of his thigh against your intimacy. you parted your lips and let out a high moan in response to his touches.

suddenly, you were so sensitive you could cry.

gun-woo felt your grip on his dick falter as if giving him a break. finally, the man could breathe properly again.

the next second, you felt your lips numb with such force that gun-woo sucked them, your body limp as he ultimately took control of your body.

not platonically, but literally.

"fuck, gun-... please".

like a ragdoll, he manhandled you in a position where your cunt was pressed directly on his flexed thigh, making you cry. frustratingly kicking your pants off of you, gun-woo helped you strip the rest of your clothes off before positioning you in the same place as before and teasing your bare pussy lips with his muscles.

you felt him capturing your left nipple and massaging it with his thumb, hearing your sighs between the kiss. as he stimulated the areola, he felt it getting rigid. gun-woo introduced his tongue into your mouth and played with your whiny moans.

your body was tactful to the boxer's touch, and when you felt the digits tightening around your areola, you couldn't help but dig your toes into his butt and moan muffledly, with gun-woo's tongue entering and leaving your mouth, slowly.

a trickle of saliva ran down the corner of the man's mouth. he closed his eyes to focus on the sensations. your excited pussy continued to be stimulated by his thigh, as well as your chest. he was still sucking your tongue when he felt his member pulsate painfully, brushing on your other thigh and moving a little farther to the left, bringing both of your crotches together and beginning a slow rub, undulating his hips in such a way that you stopped sucking his tongue and gasped in delight, squeezing his biceps tighter.

"gun-woo".

he kissed your lips and bit the bottom one, slowly pulling it away from your teeth.

his mouth moved down your jaw and onto your neck, where he could hear your gasps more audibly as he tongue-kissed the warm, milky skin of your throat, careful to leave pretty marks in his travel. his fingers were sadly no longer playing with your nipples, now they were on your bent thigh, holding it firmly as he rubbed himself shamelessly against your body.

gun-woo was using you to get off.

sensing what your boyfriend was finally doing, you cocked your head and with heavy, fluttering eyelids, watched your boyfriend's unholy face in pure delight. parted lips, messy hair, and one of your legs wrapped around him.

you watched, full of lust, as the boxer rubbed himself on you. kissing your neck ardently to the point of trembling eyes.

you already felt your opening releasing natural lubrication and wondered why haven't this man done this to you before.

"i can't anymore, gun-woo. p-please".

"please? do you need something, princess?". he spoke softly but with full of warning.

"fuck... you. need you".

"yeah right, you do". his comment was so lowered that you wondered if you had imagined it for a second. "need you too, princess, don't worry".

in a swift moment, your torso was thrown directly in his chest, your arms circling his neck for purchase while gun-woo hugged your body and finally walked towards your bedroom. when you said you were a ragdoll was because you felt like one, being tossed in the bed without an ounce of strength in your limbs and you weren't even fucked yet.

he then grabbed your waist again and kissed you, meanwhile, you took his shorts off completely, admiring the messy state he made with his liquids. gun-woo grabbed your ass once again and squeezed them, sliding his fingers through the partition between them and smearing all over your ass with his own lubrication.

oh my god. this man was sick.

"gun-woo". you called him whiny.

he climbed off the bed and pulled you to the edge simultaneously, manhandling your body as he wished. when both of your feet hit the floor, he tore his lips from yours and looked at you.

"do you mind?". for a second, his old innocent eyes shined in the pink light your bedroom had on. sincerely, your mind was too sex-hazed to even process he was talking to you in the first place, so you just tried to focus on his face and smile. "turning around?". he motioned with his fingers a cute circle and your eyes rounded dangerously.

"back?". you pointed to the bed and then at you, voice hoarse from all the torturous moaning.

"uhum". his smile was so pure you wanted to punch him in the face, nodding his head excitingly as if he wasn't asking you to expose your cunt in the air for him.

"a-all f-fours?". you asked him again, surprised and feeling your brain all fluffy inside.

"if you don't want, that's okay". for a moment, you felt his uncommon confidence falter and you were quick to reassure him.

"no, i want to". your doe eyes held all the stars in the sky, gun-woo was sure of it.

"ok". he smiled like a kid.

"ok?". you were too stunned to form coherent sentences.

"ok?". he asked confused, waiting for you to turn around with expectant eyes and arched brows.

"ok". you nodded your head finally.

again, he grabbed your waist, pressing his pelvis to your ass as you turned around. gun-woo started attacking your nape with chaste kisses that made their way to your neck, where he left hickeys and bites. you cocked your head to the side, leaving your neck completely free for the man to make as many purple and red marks as he wanted.

quickly, gun-woo left you to search for his shorts on the floor. when he came back, he surprisingly handed the condom to you, a silent request for you to put it on him which almost made you choke.

upon receiving it, you opened the package and took your hands back, touching the boxer's length. simultaneously, gun-woo slid his hands along your curves and massaged your breasts, making you fail on the first try of putting the condom on. a low moan escaped your mouth, but you didn't stop concentrating on holding your boyfriend's cock and positioning the condom on the glans, then holding the tip and unrolling it completely to the base.

you positioned the glans between your heat and thrust it into yourself, having to bite your lower lip to contain your murmurs due to the burning sensation. gun-woo hugged your body and let himself slide in slowly, with his forehead pressed against your shoulder. you opened your mouth and a breathless groan left your mouth painfully.

"gunw-".

gun-woo's eyes opened slowly, just to enjoy the view from below, where his cock slowly came out of your hole, and seconds later, it went back inside a little faster.

"fuuck". his voice was gruff, head empty, and only the feeling of your walls gripping his member inside of you running through his mind. "fuck, princess”.

you threw your head up and brought your right hand back, tangling your fingers in his hair. your brows shaped like your entire face in a set of pained and pleasurable expressions. you felt the heat every time gun-woo entered and exited, but it also felt wonderfully good to feel his cock opening you.

"fuck you". you couldn't help but curse, vaginal canal struggling to keep his member inside as he slide out of you every time. "gun-woo, please, i c-can't". you felt your cheeks wet, confirming to both of you that you were crying over a man's cock.

gladly.

"breathe for me, princess, fuck". he stopped inside you, letting you accommodate him calmly. your moan when he pinched your clit was feral.

"big, big, big". was all you could say and the boxer started to want to laugh.

"hey, princess, you're hearing me?". you breathed deeply. “c’mon, don’t be so cock-dumbed already”.

“fuck you”. was all you could say, twitching around him like crazy.

"we can't stop if it's not what you like-".

"i swear to god, i'm going to kill you. don't stop!". you screamed. painfully.

"hey, you're too tight, jagiya. you need to breathe for me first, yeah?". gun-woo himself was struggling to contain his urge to fuck you relentlessly, but he wanted you to enjoy this as well. "fuck, you're squeezing the fuck out of me, prin-".

"i c-cant. too fucking stretched, gun-woo".

"we've done this before baby, remember? i know you can, now relax for me. i'm feeling a bump on your stomach here". he pressed the bulge and you keened, juices leaking everywhere between your legs.

“i’m so wet”. you didn’t know who you were talking to anymore if it was to him or yourself.

again, you were crying and involuntarily relaxed your lower half, turning limp in your boyfriend's arms and arching your back more making him hit a new angle.

"shit-". you moaned and he felt his member twitch because of the contraction. "that's it, that's it, good girl". he breathed deeply when he could move again, relieved to have some breathing space.

without warning, gun-woo penetrated you fast and rough, making your small body propel forward, and the only thing that kept you from falling was his firm hands on your waist.

a moan escaped your lips and the rest of them died on your throat when your eyes rolled back and gun-woo hit a new angle.

the boxer smirked. gun-woo knew perfectly well how to tease you.

he then squeezed your hips and wrapped his digits in your hair. for the next moment, he withdrew from inside you and came back again, fast and hard, eliciting moans from your drooling mouth. as much as your eager moans were constant, gun-woo continued to fuck you mercilessly, without chastity, inserting himself completely without stopping. the erotic noise of your bodies colliding became frequent, echoing throughout the room and almost moving your bed from its place multiple times.

the moans became louder and more constant, and if it weren't for the firm touch of gun-woo's hands in your hair and hips, you would certainly collapse on the mattress. a trickle of lubricant ran down between your legs, and the excess made gun-woo's cock penetrate more easily into you.

you let out a high-pitched moan, the loudest yet.

gun-woo smiled happily, almost proudly, starting to thrust in the same place, which generated a sequence of loud and tearful moans coming from you.

"fuck". he cursed once, twice, and countless times with how good your pussy felt. gun-woo was losing his mind with no restraints and overthinking.

you moaning his name was beautiful, too wonderful not to be heard and appreciated, and gun-woo wished you would call his name louder and louder so everyone would know you were his.

as much as he was yours.

"princess, you there?". he worriedly asked, sensing your lack of words and quiet whines while he fucked you.

"hmm". you couldn't speak, that was on period. it didn't matter how much you tried, your eyes were too rolled back in your head for you to make sense.

and gun-woo being the wonderful boyfriend that he was, started kissing your shoulders and the back of your neck, silently saying to you that it was okay to feel so good you turned completely non-verbal.

you bit your bottom lip and, glancing over your shoulder at the worried boxer, you threw your hips back and forward, repeating the same movement signaling you were okay.

gun-woo, on the other hand, had to tightly close his eyes and suppress a growl at your hips undulating while he was still inside. the veins on his neck, arms, and hand were surely evident while he hold his breath.

somehow, you sped up your movements, and little by little, the noise of both of your bodies colliding became louder, more frequent, hotter. you whimpered when gun-woo's glans hit your sensitive spot again, and it didn't take long for your orgasm to threaten to come.

you stopped bouncing and rolled slowly, contracting, the boxer's entire cock inside you.

"i'm cumming". you exclaimed. "can i cum? fuck, gun-woo".

he then grabbed your hair again and put the side of your face against the mattress, and in that position, you were able to see the reflection of your bodies in the wardrobe mirror. and when you thought that your pleasure could not increase, the opposite was proved when you watched gun-woo's hips investing quickly in yourself, while his face was a mixture of pleasure and lust.

your small doe eyes rolled back and your vision became more blurred, your fingers dug hard into the mattress, pulling it and squeezing it between your hands. your eyes water and you mentally asked him not to stop.

"so good". gun-woo grunted in your ear and that was your last thread, squirting everywhere your pussy reached and making a mess of gun-woo's legs. the heat you felt on your cheeks was so intense you started to feel embarrassed.

panting for air, your body couldn’t stop twitching and your muscles couldn’t stop contracting around gun-woo’s member. for a moment, your brain was only white and you were certain you were crying for fuck’s sake.

"jesus christ, what was that?". the man was marveled and lust-hazed, too surprised to notice you were almost passing out.

"baby, please". you whispered weakly, gun-woo slowing down his movements and reaching for your face.

"princess?". his tone was worried for a minute too long. "are you good?".

"squirt". you try to say, feeling your brain too hazed to work properly. "i just s-squirted".

"oh", gun-woo's face was too innocent for someone who had his cock deep inside you, in your opinion, and you hated it. "you gripped me so tight, i thought i was dying". he laughed meaningly and you glanced back at him through the mirror with horror. how could he react like that?

the next thing you know your eyes were as round as your mouth and your lungs were burning with the lack of air. you moaned uncoordinated, finding it hard to distinguish when your pussy stopped spasming and gave him room to move again.

"what do you think you're doing, gun-woo-!?". your scream was cut short by the man thrusting into you again. with full force.

your legs trembled with pleasure, and then they failed to hold themselves together. seeing that you would collapse on the bed, he laid down on top of you and held both of your closed fists, accelerating the penetration even more, which, due to the position, made you tighter.

your clit pressed against the mattress caused friction that only added to the maximum overstimulation. gun-woo took your hands to your pussy lips and made you pull the bands one on each side.

"keep it open for me please, princess?". he asked menacingly, another orgasm starting to build inside you.

"gun-woo!". this man was sick.

"cum with me this time, yeah, baby?". he whispered in your ear, face turned to your reflection in the mirror and staring right back at your eyes.

"i'm gonna cum-". you affirmed.

"c'mon baby, just a sec, will ya?".

you closed your eyes and tried to hold back, however, gun-woo continued to fuck you deliciously. couldn't hold it anymore. that was final. having your clit constantly hit and neck kissed was too much to delay your orgasm any longer.

the overstimulation was killing you.

"gun-woo, i can't".

"i'm cumming, baby". he grunted out of breath. "cum with me, princess".

and as if it were magic words, you reached your orgasm right when he closed his mouth, followed by a slick and louder moan, making your whole body tremble with the wonderful spasms. breathing was frantic, and his hands were lying at your sides. gun-woo was still fucking in search of his own orgasm.

you contracted around him, squeezing him and, consequently, increasing his pleasure, and that was the climax for the boxer, who finally came deliciously inside the condom.

he was in heaven. searching for something to hold his sanity onto.

his nonexisted sanity.

you kissed him, in an attempt to distract both of you from the thoughtless state of mind. gun-woo turned your body with one hand and collapsed on top of you just after. your yelp was soundless to the boxer, head too pleasured for not stuffing his nose on your hair and trying to compose his fucking mind.

"you there?", gun-woo's voice was muffled by your skin, body too subtle under his.

"everything burns". you admitted in a whisper, throat flaming for moaning so loud.

"i think your neighbor will have complaints tomorrow". the man on top of you smirked and nosely laughed.

"don’t laugh, it’s your fault. you're crashing me, oppa". you whined trying to pull him off of you but not being able to move one muscle.

"omo, 'm sorry". he got off of you and smiled looking at you, almost shy to see your flushed face.

you smiled weakly in return and gun-woo took the condom off of him, making a knot and throwing it on the floor, next to the bed, to throw it away later. he settled on top of your body again and leaned on his forearms, and after facing you and smiling tenderly at your disorientated state, he kissed you tenderly.

you cupped his face and returned the kiss, calm but as delicious as any other one you both had. your hands were shaking while holding his chin and the man seemed to notice. his breathing was still labored, and because of that, he stopped the kiss but continued with both of your foreheads together, noses brushing against each other and lips open.

the two of you were sweaty, you were tired.

"you were amazing, oppa". your raspy voice came in contact with his ears and gun-woo tried to hide his burning cheeks on your neck again, you stop him and stared right back into his eyes.

"really?”. you giggled and he laughed at your hazy gaze. he then started sliding the digits of his right hand by your waist. "you're the one to blame".

"i love you". gun-woo smiled widely and you followed suit, without much exaggeration.

gun-woo tilted his head down and stared at your face; rosy cheeks, closed eyes and chest rising and falling with some frequency. he smiled small and kissed your slightly sweaty forehead, starting to stroke your damp soft hair.

"thank you, princess. i love you too". he whispered drowsily. "can't believe you squirted yet".

"stop". it was your turn to feel shy.

"it was hot".

"you sex beast. i am afraid of not being capable to get up to change your bandage". gun-woo almost choked.

oh god. the bruise.

"a-ah y-yes, totally". he looked down on his side and made a face at the kneaded band-aid.

you could not see that now.

"it's okay, though. i'm okay".

"are you?", your hazy doe eyes glanced at his sirened ones and gun-woo was quick to nod his head dramatically. "'kay". you replied tiredly, eyes almost closing. "can i take a nap, oppa?".

"of course, babygirl". the boxer keened, worried about your dimmed state and praying that he'd have the time to fix your bandage before you woke up.

his high pain tolerance scared him sometimes too, but gun-woo was sure that when the adrenaline left his body, he would feel the consequences of his actions the next day.

"want to shower with me first?". he asked before seeing your eyes completely closed.

"'m tired". you murmured.

"i'll be quick, okay? you don't have to do nothing, we can use the tub", gun-woo suggests.

you surprisingly laughed, and your eyes reduced to two tiny lines. it was so admiring the unique beauty of your joy that, spontaneously, your boyfriend also smiled. it was infectious and refreshing to see your smile so huge and genuine.

"are you suggesting that you shower me like a kid, sailor?". your voice was filled with happiness and the man next to you was quick to reply.

"no, no, no, that's creepy". his brows were arched and his eyes round, you wanted to laugh because of his pure reaction. "i just wanted you to rest... to not be tired and sticky".

"okay, baby. you can take care of me".

gun-woo opened a huge smile and left your body on the bed so he could turn on the bathtub and quickly come back to you.

staring at you sprawled in your element, kim geun-woo realized that he had never been more happy in his entire life than right now.

and he didn't give a fuck if his right side was completely numb when he had you.

don't normalize arguing with your boyfriend's best friend while he is injured and horny ! that might have consequences... hope you guys enjoyed and i'm so sorry for any misspelling 🥺 (this is how sex with kim geun-woo post ep.6 would be and you cannot prove me otherwise)

[natsarrownecklacx]

Listen To Your Princess

Princess Wanda Maximoff x Hand Lady Reader

Summary- Princess Wanda doesn’t like the way her people talk about people like her. People who love the way she does. She uses you to work through her frustration.

Word count- 2,699

Warnings- Homophobia (relevant to the time period), mention of beating and burning to death, Smut, eating out, fingering, pillow riding, masturbating, power play. Minors DNI (anything else lmk)

AU Masterlist

ᗢ <3 ᗢ <3 ᗢ <3 ᗢ <3 ᗢ <3 ᗢ <3 ᗢ <3 ᗢ <3 ᗢ

“The disease has taken another girl from the village.”

Wanda’s mother, Queen Iryna Maximoff, announces from her place at the table, as if she is sharing a grave piece of information. 

“The men found her in bed with another man’s wife. They did their duty. Beat and burnt them both to stop the disease from spreading.” Iryna’s words anger her daughter. It is not this so-called “disease” that is killing off the girls of the village but the idiotic men. Men who refuse to believe their wife’s get more pleasure and comfort from other women than from their husbands. 

Wanda keeps her eyes downcast, staring at the table as her parents continue talking amongst themselves. She counts down the seconds before she can excuse herself from the table and return to her chambers where you are. 

“We must hope none of our servant girls catch this disease, my love. It would be such a bother to replace them.” Wanda’s father, King Olek Maximoff, speaks from the head of the table, making Wanda’s blood boil. They would kill you if they knew your secret. They’d have the guards beat you and burn you in front of her, making her watch in hopes of “curing” her. Her hand tightens around her wine cup, her knuckles turning white with the strength she grips it with. She won’t let that happen. She won’t ever let anyone lay a hand on you. 

They wouldn’t kill Wanda of course. They need her alive, her fathers one and only heir to the kingdom. One day she will be queen. She will be expected to take a husband, to give him sons who will be her heirs. The notion is laughable. There is only one person Wanda intends to marry and that person is not a man. 

Sometimes, on days like today, when ignorant people speak of people like her as wrong, Wanda likes to imagine the day she will become queen. When she will have absolute power above the kingdoms. When she will use her power to stand before everyone and proclaim you as her queen and her kingdom a place where anyone can love and be loved.

“I’ve heard of a new treatment for the disease coming from the North.” Iryna says, a hint of relief in her voice.

No. Wanda knows what her mother is about to say. She’s heard of the same “treatment” herself. It makes it feel sick, fills her with rage. She wants to hang any person who’d dare try to “treat” another human that way.

“May I be excused?” Wanda asks, looking to her father. It’s been long enough now, she should be able to leave without either of her parents questioning why.

“You may.” Olek dismisses his daughter, waving her off with a flick of his wrist. She doesn’t waste a second, standing from her chair and pushing it in then making her way to her chamber to meet you.

————————————————————

Wanda pushes through her chamber door with the intention to grab you and fling you against the bed, to work through her current swirling storm of emotions by burying herself between your legs. However she can’t help but pause when she enters the room to see your smiling face.

“Princess.” You greet the brunette, curtsying as a sign of respect. “I’ve missed you.”

Wanda takes a deep, steading, breath, trying to hold in her emotions. She loves you. She really, truly loves you. How could that be wrong? How could anyone condemn your beautiful, kind and caring self to death simply because of the love she holds for you and you for her. 

“Princess?” You ask, seeing the inner turmoil written all over her face. You step toward her, wanting to offer any comfort you can. “Is everything alright?”

Your words snap Wanda back to her senses. Her anger toward the world and her parents coming back tenfold. She almost feels bad about what she’s about to do, standing there looking at the concern and love written over your face.

But she needs it. Right now she needs it more than she needs the blood in her veins or her claim to the throne. Plus she knows you’ll enjoy it, you always do.

“Get on the bed, y/n.” Her voice comes out deep, her accent thick on her tongue. Her dark, lust filled eyes trail over you as you do as told, sitting on the bed with no hesitation, your palms laying flat against your thighs, the way you know she likes.

“Such a good girl for me. Such an obedient girl for your princess.” Wanda praises you, closing the door before closing the distance between you. She runs her hands over your body, delighting in the quiet sounds that leave your lips.

Without taking her eyes off of you Wanda reaches behind you, pulling one of her plush, heavy pillows from the headboard and placing it in front of you. “Strip and get on top of it.”

You can’t help the noise that leaves your mouth at her command, nor the flood of arousal that settles between your legs. Despite both these things, your lover has never asked you to do this specific thing before and you can’t help but be hesitant. “Princess l-”

“Don’t you want to be a good girl y/n? Don’t you want to do as your princess commands you?” Her voice comes out demanding, but the look in her eyes is one of desperation. She needs this. Needs you to behave for her. 

Wanda’s hand comes up to stroke your face, giving you the silent comfort and encouragement you need to do as she says. “Go on now.” She says, patting the pillow in front of you. “Spread your legs over the pillow like a good girl. Make your princess proud.”

Her words cause heat to settle in your abdomen. You nod your head in compliance, bringing your fingers to unbutton your dress and removing it over your head. Once you sit bare before her you mount the pillow, looking her in the eye and wait for her next command.

Wanda steps back to admire the image before her. The sight of you naked and waiting in front of her has arousal pooling between her legs. She moves backward until she sits herself in a chair opposite the bed. She takes her time looking you over, ingraining the image in her mind, saving it away for a day when she cannot be near you.

“Move your hips, Dekta. Ride the pillow for your princess.”

At her command you begin to move your hips against the pillow, the friction of it against your clit causing a heat to flush through your body. Your hips move slowly against the fabric, allowing the languid movement to ease you into the new position. 

You don’t take your eyes off the princess as you continue your movements, even as quiet moans tumble past your lips. Your hands come behind you, resting just behind your back to give her a better view. You hear her breath hitch, her eyes darkening more, barley a sliver of green left visible. 

“Faster.” Wanda orders you, slipping her hand beneath her dress. Her fingers find her clit rubbing fast, tight circles over it. 

You do as she says, picking up the pace of your hips against the pillow. Your thighs threaten to squeeze shut at the pleasure it brings you, but you will yourself to keep them open. “Gods that feels good.” You moan out, your thighs shaking around the pillow. 

“That’s right baby, keep riding that pillow until you come like the good little slut you are.” Wanda orders breathily, slipping two fingers inside herself and grinding against the palm of her hand. Watching you fuck yourself as she orders turns her on more then she could have thought, the desire inside her building to a near uncomfortable level.

“Princess- Wanda- Oh gods. I’m going to cum.” You moan out, grating your hips harder against the cushion between your legs, the added friction pushing you right up to the edge.

“Go on baby. Come on your pillow like the whore you are.” Wanda picks up the pace of her fingers, intent on pushing herself over the edge at the same time as you. “F-fuck.” She moans, watching you fall apart in front of her. “Don’t stop, Dekta. Don’t stop until I’ve cum. I’m so close, Dorogoy.”

You continue to grind against the pillow, riding out your high until Wanda comes around her fingers, moaning loudly and keeping her eyes on you as she does so. 

The princess takes a minute to catch her breath, her eyes never leaving your panting figure. But her hunger returns tenfold when she sees you accidentally move against the object between your legs, a whimper falling from your lips at the stimulation.

“Lie down y/n. I’m not finished with you yet.” She orders, her voice leaving no room for debate. Wanda watches as you take in her words, as the uncertainty fills your eyes and you try to close your legs. “Ah, ah, ah, pretty girl. Lie down and spread your legs for your future queen.”

Wanda stands from her chair, riding herself of her dress as she walks toward you and joins you on the bed. She smirks in satisfaction, watching you do as she says, spreading your legs for her. “Good girl.” She mumbles against the inside of your thighs, leaving kisses and bites there, marking you as hers.

Wanda kisses her way up the inside of your thighs, leaving her marks as she goes until she reaches the apex of your thighs. She takes a second to look you over before moving forward, licking through your folds and sucking your clit into her mouth.

“Wanda.” You moan, burying your fingers in her hair to hold her close.

Hearing you moan her name reminds Wanda of the reason she has you in her bed, you specifically. Not just because she wants to feel, but because she loves you.

Then she remembers the words of her parents, the reason she has sought you out filled with frustrations in the first place. Without warning she plunges two fingers inside you, starting out with a fast, brutal pace, causing you to cry out.

She kisses her way up your body, leaving open mouth misses as she goes until she reaches your lips. She takes your bottom lip between her teeth, pulling it away from you as she listens to you whimper and moan. “Please, princess. Slow down.” You whimper, moving your hands to rest on her chest. Without thinking Wanda takes both your wrists in her hand, pinning them above you on the bed. 

“Wanda?” You ask but your words don’t reach her, her mind focused on the rage that swirls around her. “How can it be wrong for me to love you the way I do.” She asks herself, curling her fingers against the spot inside you that makes your toes curl.

Wanda continues her assault on that one spot, making your thighs shake and your back arch into her. “Wanda please.” You sob, the pleasure becoming to much for you. Your not sure if your begging her to stop or fuck you harder, but you can’t help yourself from begging. “Please, Wanda. Please.” She lowers her mouth, taking your nipple into her warm, wet mouth and sucking on it.

Wanda brings the palm of her hand to rest against your clit, grinding it against the bundle of nerves as she continues to move her fingers inside you. She releases your nipple from her mouth, a string of saliva following her as she moves up to mumble against your open, moaning mouth. “How can the way you squeeze around my fingers and cry out in pleasure be anything other than right.” The added pressure along with her words has you clamping down on her fingers, coming apart with her name on your lips.

Wanda continues to fuck her fingers into you at a hard, fast pace, only coming back to herself when she feels you pushing of her hand holding down your own. Her mind clears of its rage filled fog, her eyes focus on tears in your eyes, her ears on the whimpers and mules falling from your lips.

Panic sets into her bones, she hadn’t meant to hurt you, she’d just been so angry. At her parents, at the world. At herself for not wanting men the way she wants you, at you for making it so easy for her to love you.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry y/n.” Wanda stutters out, lunging forward to take you into her arms, flipping your positions so you lie on top of her. She continues to mummer apologizes against the crown of your head, weaving her fingers through your hair to sooth you, tears slipping down her cheeks the whole time.

Only when your body stops shaking and you wrap your arms around her does Wanda’s heart release itself from the vice grip her panic put on it.. “Shh, my love.” You whisper against her skin. “I’m alright, just overspent. You’ve not done anything wrong, it's okay.” 

“I’m so sorry, Dekta.” Wanda whispers into the room once more. You simply press a kiss against her shoulder in response, wordlessly accepting her apology.

The room is engulfed in silence for a minute as you both allow yourselves to catch your breath. You rest your head against her chest and use your fingers to draw shapes over her bare skin. 

“What happened, Wands?” You ask, no hint of judgment or resentment in your voice.  “I’ve never seen you like that before. I’m not complaining I just- you don’t seem quite alright.”

Wanda stiffens beneath you, the hand in your hair halting its movements for a second before picking up its momentum again. “Mother and father were talking about the “disease” that ravages the village again.”

“Hmm. What else?” You ask, nuzzling against her chest, tightening your hold on her.

Wanda stops. She stares at you with her mouth open, shock clear on her face. “What else? Y/n they talk about people like us as if we’re a plague to be wiped from the earth. As if my love for you means less because you are not a man.”

“Yes but they usually do. I’ve never seen it bother you this much.” You look up at her, your eyes narrowed at the woman you love. “What else was said?”

Wanda tightens her hold on your, pulling your body impossibly closer to hers. She can’t look you in the eye, how could she, her parents made clear that if they caught any of the servants presenting with symptoms of the “disease” they would have them killed. That includes you. How could she look into your beautiful eyes and tell you that her parents would have you beaten and burned if they ever found out what you feel for each other.

She can’t. She won’t. Because speaking the words would bring a truth to them all to real. She doesn’t want to entertain the idea of ever losing you that way.

“It doesn’t matter, my love.” Taking your chin between her thumb and forefinger, Wanda makes sure you look her in the eyes as she speaks her next words. “They are entitled to their opinions, Dekta. What they are not entitled to is forcing others to conform to them. They do not get to tell us our love is less or wrong because of who we are. Do you understand me?”

“I understand, princess.” You say, resting your head back against her chest, closing your eyes ready to let the exhaustion take you.

Watching you drift off to sleep in her arms Wanda decides she doesn’t care what she has to do, who she has to strike down, she’s going to make you her wife one day. She places a kiss to the crown of your head, listening to your even, sleepy breaths as she whispers into the room. 

“One day I’ll make you my queen, y/n. And no one in the seven kingdoms can stop me.”

ᗢ <3 ᗢ <3 ᗢ <3 ᗢ <3 ᗢ <3 ᗢ <3 ᗢ <3 ᗢ <3 ᗢ

A/n- I got the idea and wrote this so fast it hasn’t been proof read but here you go 🤲🏻

[lowliest-manifestations]

Okay! I'm finally putting together some of my more specific Bending the Willow thoughts and this passage:

"Perhaps it was as Jeremy Brett noted: 'Women want to possess him, while men want to be him.' There is certainly some truth in that statement, but the idea is incomplete. I believe male readers not only identify with Holmes, but also experience, in the same way that D. H. Lawrence identified what he referred to as a 'blood consciousness' between men, a kind of spiritual closeness akin to love."

Is making me the kind of insane that makes me want to write like 17 essays. But in absence of the time needed to actually do that here are some of my main thoughts in a more disorganized fashion:

Overall I've noticed a really wild amount of gender essentialism within Sherlockian communities/ scholarship, and I know that a lot of that can be chalked up to the fact that even modern writings are done mostly by older white men, but I also think there's something about the text itself that encourages this. Sherlock Holmes is pretty fucking victorian about gender (Irene Adler occupies a weird space but I do not believe she is in any way exempt from those attitudes.) and I think sometimes scholars find themselves reflecting the values of a text that they do not want to admit is imperfect.

I think this passage pinpoints exactly how a lot of people gender their expectations of how reader are to interact with Sherlock Holmes and texts like it, and Sherlock Holmes in turn becomes kind of weird for women to interact with. For the most part people want to see themselves somewhere in the text, but women in particular are told that we cannot find ourselves within the main character. Some people may be fine with that, lots of people don't want to relate to Holmes and their enjoyment of the text does not come from seeing themselves in that particular character. Some women also genuinely want to relate to the text by fantasizing about being in a relationship with Holmes, and more power to them, but their feeling is not a default, no matter how hard anybody pretends it is.

The fact is that plenty of women do want to be Holmes, and they face an interesting dilemma if they are trying to hold that while still operating under the framework hinted at in this passage. Instead of projecting onto him directly they must find ways to be close to him, be a reflection of him, be him but a girl (without replacing him! don't worry!). I think that's why there's sooo much fiction out there about secret sisters, female apprentices, wit-matching lovers etc. (I myself would pretend to be Sherlock Holmes' secret daughter as a kid. I bought into this shit!)

This framework is also not particularly normal about men who may not see themselves in Holmes at all and who may, in fact, also be capable of fantasizing about having a relationship with him! Queer men exist! (within this passage in fact.) And I know Stuart Davies did not mean to acknowledge this when he wrote of "a kind of spiritual closeness akin to love." but he does put it somewhat homoerotically in a way that left me reeling a little bit.

I do understand the feeling described by Stuart Davies, even if the way he writes of it makes me laugh a little in its dramatics. I simply do not think it is a feeling exclusive to men... I don't think any feelings are exclusive to any gender. And in the end I think that's the idea that really frustrates me.

Of course this passage is also from 1996, it's a product of its time, I get it. I also know that people have had More expansive/critical/interesting ideas about Sherlock Holmes in relation to gender before and since it was written, and I don't think it reflects what everyone really believes. BUT I do think it hit the nail on the head of a phenomena I have noticed since childhood and affirmed that I wasn't imagining things. While also being. Kind of funny.

[ishallgivehimupforever]

Here We go again Bellarke warriors, if you can hear me, it's been about 1680 days since I stopped caring (or so I thought)

I hadn't been to tumblr in years, before I decided to give the 100 a rewatch in June of this year, as I had given up somewhere around the start of season 5 (I remember hating the LONG ass timeskip teased at the end of S4, I guess some other media must have swallowed me during hiatus, and when I tried to give that season a chance I vividly remember 1) I couldn't see shit on my screen 2) I hated what the timeskip did to the established relationships) and so I dropped it for good, looking back I almost can't believe I could just...not finish it like that because let me tell you I did NOT fuck about Clarke and Bellamy, and Raven, and Monty, and probably some other characters back in 2015-2016. I think I maybe did not appreciate season 4 enough at the time it was airing (because I think binge-watching is very flattering for that season, watching it live I remember it was frustrating to watch the characters go on side quests in 4A) but now knowing what the character arcs are and where it was going makes it my second-favorite season. BUT, I digress, wow. This is meant to be a rambling, incohisive love letter to the compelling relationship between Bellamy and Clarke. I warn you, they truly do not fucking leave you as it turns out. I would go to the trenches for them back in my fandom days in 2015-17, and I realised, after binge-waching the show over 4 sleepless nights (seasons 1-6, which are the only seasons in existence, obviously)that I STILL just FUCKING CARE SO MUCH. I NEVER CARED ABOUT FICTIONAL CHARACTERS SO MUCH AS CARE FOR THESE TWO SEPARATELY, AND AS SOULMATES. Because let me tell you, Clarke and Bellamy, they fucking love each. Like actual, happens-only-in-romances LOVE. It is frankly INSANE how JRoth, K*m Shum and other managed to gaslight me over some of the bellarke scenes in S2-S3 as to make me think it's in my (and thousand's of fans') head WHEN IT IS SO FUCKING OBVIOUS FROM SCORE, EDITING CHOICES, LONGING LOOK SHOTS, HANDS SHOTS, LINES, AND FINALLY, ACTING AND DIRECTION THAT THESE TWO ARE LOVERS.

I have never, ever, before or since, followed two characters who were so compatible, so equal, so trusting in each other, so open with one another, so mindful of the other's emotions and needs, so so so made for each other, that it is no surprise to me that they are top 10 F/M pairing on AO3. Because Bellamy and Clarke would fall in love in every imaginable scenario, in every universe, across time. I am not usually that cheesy or cringy, but it is true. I could not put my finger on why they are my absolute favorite to read fanfic for and then it occurred to me. That as long as the hands of fate put these two in proximity of each other, it;s a done deal. That chemistry transcends the limits of a single tv show. The depth with how Clarke and Bellamy love each other honestly makes me pause for breath sometimes. It is not just the iconic, famous bellarke scenes, but also the quiet moments.

Like in 6x05 or 6x06 (cant remember) when Clarke's body was stolen by Josephine after her one-night stand with Cillian. (stay with me) Bellamy, unaware that Clarke isn't herself at that point, comes over to chat, he's clearly at least a bit jealous over her sleeping with Cillian, and yet he says "happiness looks good on you" with that wide, earnest smile. And just wow. How must he love her, to be so utterly happy for her own happiness that has in that instance nothing to do with him. so selfless. well, selfless is basically Bellamy's middle name.

Or how in season 4, after a lot of the characters and at times the narrative wanted to push this idea on Clarke that she is the sole leader of her people, gets right back on track to her co-leader dynamic with Bellamy, constantly checking with him, considering his input, and respecting choices that she herself would maybe not make (releasing the ensalved arkadians and grounders vs ensuring they get a machine necessary to generate water) but always understanding that these choices agree with his core values, and she loves him for it.

This post is way too long. I love Bellamy. I love Clarke. People often use the 'MY PARENTS" about ships on twitter, and you know what, in my case that's kinda true with bellarke. I met these characters when I was 15. I am 25 now, and with an adult perspective to my surprise I found their relationship even more profound then I remembered, and I was insanse about them already. They are truly THE power couple of all time. I miss the 100, If you wanna ramble about it together, feel welcome to send me ask, I'd love to have an excuse to share some of my (sometimes unpopular) opinions lol.