#sorry it took a bit to answer. i've been trying to figure out who to talk about for the 'relationship with cast' question

[melverie]

general info 5 & 8, and relationship and personality 1 ( love your blog btw, hope you're having a nice day <3 )

Ahhh, thank you so much anon, that's sweet of you to say!! 💚💚 I hope you also have a nice day/night!

-> to the ask game -> to all asks about Marchosias

⸺ GENERAL INFO 05 ⸺ Which deadly sin best aligns with them? Which one do they embody the least?

Most people would probably assume she aligns most with gluttony given how often she goes on her little parfait outings. But she's actually a pride demon who just happens to have a massive sweet tooth! Her pride predominantly kicks in as a defense and coping mechanism. For example, her right hand is pitch black up to a little over her elbow and as an angel that was reason enough for her to be outcast a lot of the time, but now as a demon she's just like "you WISH your arm was this cool". Around others she also takes great pride in being able to solicte humans into pacts with ease, when in actuality it's just an empty skill to her

Envy is a pretty strong contendor as well, though. On one hand, there's the fact that her wings were cut off as an angel and she now has two tails meaning she can't fly anymore, yet she would love nothing more than to be closer to the night sky, and constantly envies demons with wings. And while both she and the brothers are fallen angels, at least the brothers got to fall together with their family, which is something her child-self didn't have at the time

As for least, that would have be Sloth. She's just constantly up and about with different tasks relating to the Newspaper Club and has to deal with school work, as well as managing all the requests from her human masters

⸺ GENERAL INFO 08 ⸺ Do they have a kill count? How high is it?

She does, and considering how she often resorts to stabbing people that annoy her with her tails, it's surprisingly low!

..........low for a demon, anyways

⸺ RELATIONSHIPS & PERSONALITY 01 ⸺ What's their relationship with the cast?

Since you didn't specific which characters I went with Lucifer, Levi, Diavolo and Barbatos to talk more in-depth about. If you'd like to hear a little about the others, feel free to send another ask!

Lucifer

Lucifer was responsible for her while she was still a little angel. Back then Marchosias looked up to him then despite Lucifer's less than kind attitude toward her, and things only got worse between them once the brothers fell. There was one incident in particular that severely damaged their relationship and that ended with Marchosias trying to get Lucifer to take her grimoire since he's "he's already used to playing around with her fate, this wouldn't be any different"

If you ask any of the people that played absolutely no part in any of it what that incident was about, they'll tell you that the two of them went on a date that went south. If you ask any of the two demons actually involved, Marchosias tends to grow completely quiet, while Lucifer will hesitate a little before either saying that they "were talking about something that happened back when they were both angels" or that he told her "something he thought she deserved to know", but that's about as much as you will get out of them. The only other ones that know the full story are Mephisto, Barbatos, Solomon, Simeon and Raphael, but they'll keep quiet about it

Their relationship has been strained for several centuries after this, but nowadays they finally have a more friendly and casual relationship with each other and she's back to looking up to him. She and my MC have even formed the "Lucifer, take a fucking break already" club. Club activities include coming up with different ways to trick Lucifer into taking a break!

She also likes getting on his nerves :) She might have taken over RAD's Newspaper Club after Mephisto was forced to step down, but Marchosias keeps him as her second in command and runs any important decision by him first. And then she always goes with whatever Mephisto suggests. It's not uncommon for Lucifer to complain to her about it because "that defeats the purpose of having Mephistopheles step down in the first place" :)

Leviathan

As with any of the brothers, Marchosias keeps some tabs on him for the RAD Newspaper. So outside of interviews and school surveys, they have hardly ever exchanged a word with each other. That being said, she's also a massive fan of his cosplays! Not that she would ever tell him that to his face. There are only very few instances where Marchosias gets shy, and witnessing Levi's embarrassment is one of those instances where she gets completely disarmed

Anyway, Marchosias even has notifications on for his accounts. It's not uncommon that Levi posts something only to delete it three seconds later... Plus he's pretty much the only one out of the brothers about whom she doesn't like getting blackmail insider information from her Anonymous Source™

Diavolo

Maze is genuinely fascinated by his charisma and his ability to captivate people with his speeches. Pretty much the only reason she still shows up to seductive speechcraft classes is because she hopes to be partnered up with Diavolo and get to learn as much about his charme as she can. It could be useful for forging pacts with humans, after all!

Diavolo actually also enjoys partnering up with her because--even though they hardly ever get any work done--he is super interested in all her experience in forging pacts with humans, so they talk the entire time instead of paying attention in class. Win-win situation for the two of them, lose-lose situation for the teachers, Lucifer and Barbatos <3

Barbatos

They've know each other pretty much ever since Marchosias fell, but their relationship was very distant at first. He has helped her adjust to the Devildom and helped her master her powers on behest of the king, but their relationship mostly just stayed professional. They've finally started growning a lot closer a while after Marchosias had forged her pact with Solomon, and while you don't see them talking with each other outside of RAD News related business, they comment on any given situation by shooting each other looks whenever they pass each other in the hallway or on the street

She trust him immensely which is why he is in possession of her grimoire as mentioned here, and Barbatos is also the first one Marchosias goes to when she's in need of comfort. Whenever that happens, she usually just storms into the castle, ignores everyone as she walks straight to Barbatos and then just collapses in his arms

-> to the ask game -> to all asks about Marchosias

[kisses4choso]

#PRETENDING TO BE YOUR BF!

SYNOPSIS: you're in a sticky situation and need somebody to help you get a creepy guy away from you. are they up to the challenge? OP CHARACTERS: ZORO & SANJI WARNINGS: nicknames?

a creep had been following you around the town the strawhat crew had been visting, and nothing you said would keep him away. going into stores and diving into crowds, you hoped maybe you'd lose him, but he proved to be extremely stubborn. "like i said sir, i have a boyfriend!" you had told him for the hundreth time, but he didn't believe you. "c'mon, we both know you're lying, sweet thing. just give me a chance, yeah? i'll show you a nice time," he said, and you were just about to start yelling until you spotted--

ZORO. he had no idea you were around, as he had gone into an antique shop not too long ago to find new sword sheaths. even with his back turned towards you, you decided he was your best shot. you made a bee-line for the shop and the guy followed closely behind.

"like i said, sir, i have a boyfriend," you said, gesturing towards zoro in hopes his stature would scare the creep off. however, the pirate didn't turn around, engrossed by the sheaths and other looms in the shop.

the stranger frowned at you, clearly not believing your lie. it hurt you to have to rely on zoro, as he wasn't the brightest in times like these, but it was all or nothing.

"zoro!" you exclaimed, and he turned immediately at your voice, taking in your desperate look. "you said you would catch up with me, i've been waiting for you."

he was unsure how to respond, gulping as you latched onto his arm, and he almost expressed his concerns, but he was beat to it by the stranger.

"this is your boyfriend?" the guy asked, still a bit skeptical but intimidated nonetheless.

the pirate looked the villager up and down, trying to figure out how to react appropriately to this. no matter how much he racked his brain, he couldn't find an answer. however, if you had been as bold as to claim zoro as yours, he trusted you had a reason to do so.

"and who are you?" your --pretend-- boyfriend asked, guarding you with an arm as you stepped behind him, away from the stranger's much-too-curious eyes.

before the creep could answer, you decided to torment him just a bit, "i dunno, he's been following me for hours now. i was scared."

zoro's gaze hardened at that, the grip he held on his swords tightening, "is that so?"

"no! no, i'm sorry, man. i didn't know- listen, i'll leave, alright?" and as soon as the words came out of the villager's mouth, he was gone.

"sorry, zoro. he scared the shit out of me, i thought maybe i'd find sanji in the crowds somewhere to help me, but there's so many blonde people here, you have no idea."

he nodded slowly, very aware of your arms wrapped around his and your slightly trembling fingers. he took a deep breath before turning back around to sort through all the trinkets he'd found.

"it's not your fault. but, maybe we should travel in pairs from now on. i don't want another idiot bothering you until you're practically shaking."

"i am not shaking," you said, to which he sighed, gathering his items and leaving a few coins on the counter. you continued, "but you're pretty scary, y'know?"

"i would hope so, in situations like these," he gave you a lopsided grin, "but seriously, we should just travel together. i don't mind playing pretend for you."

SANJI. he was busying himself at a food market, bargaining with the poor vendor for a discount. he turned around before you even called him, having a sixth sense for your presence. he smiled widely at you, calling your name loudly.

"sanji, my darling," you cringed at your own voice, the sickly sweet nickname dropping hesitantly from your tongue, "i missed you."

the cook didn't miss a beat, "i missed you much more! what do you think, gorgeous? broccoli or cauliflower?"

"uh, both?" you said, still spotting the man now on the opposite side of the street, watching intently.

your blonde "boyfriend" nodded, turning his attention to the vendor he had previously been arguing with, "perfect, i'll get both, ma'am!"

you saw the stranger slowly come closer towards you, and you decided to take action by hugging sanji tightly.

he complimented you instantly on the perfume you were wearing, and he kept talking but your attention was fully on getting away from the stranger.

"sanji?" you whispered, suddenly interrupting what was probably a declaration of love, but it wasn't like that was a rare ocassion anyway.

"yes? i hate to ruin the moment but you're not usually this affectionate, not that i mind, i mean--"

keeping your position in his arms, you reached up to whisper in his ear, lips brushing his cheek from the proximity, "there's a guy that's been following me and i need your help."

he ignored the brush of your lips, an action he surely would've fainted for in any other circumstance. his energy shifted from a playful one to something much more urgent, "are you alright?"

you smiled at him, an assurance that you were fine, just freaked out. you moved away from him, opting to stand at his side and hold his arm.

"can you see him?" sanji asked, paying the lady for the vegetables he purchased and grabbing a hold of the bags you carried.

"yes, behind us, the guy in the blue shirt," you discretely pointed him out, sanji followed your gaze and he let out a laugh.

"him? he thinks he has a chance... with you? how sad. want me to go talk to him?"

you held sanji's gaze, considering his offer, but ultimately deciding against it. if it broke out into a street fight, you'd bring attention to the strawhats, and then you'd probably be reported to the marines.

"no, could you just..." you hesitated, focusing on the cigarette in between sanji's lips to distract yourself from the creep's stare, "pretend you're madly in love with me, or something?"

the cook took the cigarette from his mouth and dropped it to the ground, putting it out so you wouldn't be bothered by the smell of smoke, "you're making it too easy for me. guess my acting skills won't be needed this time, hm?"

[starspence]

drunk dial [aaron hotchner x reader drabble]

in which reader butt-dialed hotch on a girls night, leading to him confronting her on her doorstep the night after with a raging problem in his slacks. (cw; just pure filth tbh, praise, piv sex, bau reader, interwork relationships, fem!reader, aftercare) (w.c. - 2.3k)

masterlist ♡

Hotch held a tight ship at the BAU. He was a man known for enforcing every rule, no matter how tedious, with an iron fist; even when he fought the urge to break protocol himself, whether that be on the basis of family or other personal matters.

When he found himself on the doorstep of one of his employees after an unfortunate butt-dial on your end, every ounce of restraint he had left slowly began to leave his body.

"Hotch," You gasped, your eyebrows furrowing and your mouth hanging slightly agape. "What's going on? Is everything okay?"

"Everything's fine," He affirmed, a small smile tugging at his lips. "I... wanted to let you know I got your call last night."

Your face only grew more contorted. "Call?" You echo, confused. After a moment of silence, your face paled, recalling the events of the night prior. "Oh my god. Did I drunk dial you? I'm so sorry. I was out with the girls and-"

"Not exactly," He interrupted. "May I?" He inquires, gesturing to your apartment.

You nod, opening the door fully and allowing him inside. "What... What did I do?" You ask defeated. "If I caused you any trouble I'm so sorry."

Despite his incessant need to console you, to let you know everything was okay and that the reason he was there is, in fact, not because you were in trouble - he enjoyed letting you suffer a little. Perhaps a bit sadistic, but not the worst thing that would happen tonight, he thought.

"You dialed my cell last night," He began, his voice calm as ever, "and I answered. But it didn't appear you knew I was on the other line, or that you called at all for that matter." He continued, tone unwavering.

You stayed silent, face pale and fidgeting with the skin on your nails.

"If I recall, you said you would 'fuck Unit Chief Hotchner senseless,' does that ring a bell?" He teased with a low laugh. "If drunk words are sober thoughts, then I figured I should pay a visit."

You were no longer ridden with anxiety, but a new, more chilling emotion, that sent a wave of heat through your body. "What are you saying?"

"I'm saying that if the offer still stands, I'm happy to take it."

"Really?"

"Really."

He stood still in place, not moving nor speaking so you can play the cards. If he interpreted the situation wrong, he didn't want to make you feel uncomfortable. The last thing he wanted was to lose one of his most prized agents.

So you did what you'd been wanting to do since you first stepped foot in his office just under a year ago.

You took a step forward, grabbing his tie and pulling his face into your own, crashing your lips together in a passionate and hungry kiss. His hands clawed at your waist, smushing your body impossibly closer to his while he grinned wickedly into your mouth.

You wasted no time pulling him to your bedroom, shutting the door behind you while he pushed you against the firm piece of wood, careful not to accidentally ram your back on the doorknob. His lips found yours again, and in a rushed and clumsy manner he began to undo his tie. You shrugged his blazer off for him with a low laugh which he mimicked.

"Eager, are we?" He teased, breathless and panting.

You smiled, your fingers finding the buttons to his dress shirt and fumbling them apart. "How could I not be?" You replied, looking up at him through your lashes. "My boss who I've had an unspeakable crush on just said he wants to fuck me."

He chuckled again, shrugging his shirt off while his own fingers the found the hem of your shirt, lifting it over your head and running his hands up your back to unclasp your bra in a practiced fashion.

"You should've told me sooner," He said lowly. "I've been trying to find an excuse, something to justify these wildly inappropriate feelings. And that drunk call..." He trailed off, sliding the bra down your arms and removing it from your chest, exposing your breasts. You shivered.

His lips dove to your neck and you threw your head back against the wall with a high pitched moan. He let his hands wander, moving from your shoulders to your forearms then finally gripping your hips. He took his time and trailed wet, sloppy, hard, kisses down to the top of your breasts, only pulling away to admire the light bruises he left.

"Fuck Hotch," You whispered, biting your lip.

"None of that," He scolded, standing straight again and looking into your eyes with a primal hunger. "Aaron. You're calling me Aaron tonight."

"Aaron," You echoed, the word foreign on your tongue. "I want you, Aaron."

His name on your lips felt like heaven to his ears. He smirked, guiding your body to sit on the end of your bed. He stood in front of you, never breaking eye contact while he worked thoroughly to unbuckle his belt. Something about the silence of the room being broken by the clang of the metal stirred something hot in you.

"Say it again," He demanded, letting his slacks pool at his ankles and stepping out of the fabric. He kneeled down, untying the loop of your sweatpants and tugging at the waistband.

"Please Aaron," you begged, eyebrows furrowing. "Need you. Need you to fuck me." You pleaded again, now lifting your hips so he could slide not just your pants, but your underwear as well, off.

"Atta girl." He praised, discarding your sweats on the floor. You reacted just as he wanted, a small whimper falling from your mouth when his words reached your ear. It didn't take him long to stand back up, pushing you down on your back while he stood between your legs and hovered over you. "You like that, huh?" He teased. "Gonna be a good girl and let me fuck you?"

You were rendered speechless. The stark contrast of the words you heard on a day-to-day basis compared to this... If you didn't know he'd be touching you in minutes you would've already begun to play with your clit. "Y-yes," you stuttered. "Wanna be good. Please."

He palmed himself through his boxers, the first time you'd actually looked at the tent that had formed. He tugged them down, springing out a cock so thick you worried about it fitting inside of your poor body. You audibly gasped, leading him to laugh at your reaction. "Don't worry, I'll make sure you're stretched out first. I'm not that mean."

You smiled up at him, your cheeks hot and your mouth almost watering. He trailed his hands down your body again, taking in the sight before him. "So beautiful," He murmured. "So, so, beautiful." His eyes glanced back up to meet your own. "I could never stop myself from wondering what you were hiding beneath those horribly conservative work clothes," He admitted. "Much better than what my imagination ever conjured up."

"So you've thought about me, then?" You teased, goosebumps covering your body at the image of your boss getting fired up in bed late at night, imagining the same things you had touched yourself to many times before.

"Every night," he replied with a cocky grin. His hand traveled between your legs, letting one of his digits slide through your folds to collect the already pooling wetness that now satiated his fingers. "Already so wet," he commented.

He never broke eye contact as he slipped his middle and ring finger into you, making sure to memorize every contorted feature on your face. They were thick and long, beating some of the men you'd had before in size with his fingers alone. You gasped, eyebrows furrowing as your head hit the back of your bed.

"Eyes on me," he commanded, leaning down to press his chest against yours and propping himself up with his free hand. "Come on, I know you can do it."

You strained your eyes to stay open as you made contact with his, mouth falling agape as he began to move them in and out of you slowly. His wrist made contact with your clit, his arm stilled between the two of you while his hand continued its work diligently. "O-oh my god," you murmured, "Aaron. So good. Feels so good."

He pumped them in and out a few times before scissoring them, prying your walls apart in a way that made you whimper beneath him. "Such pretty noises," he remarked.

You almost came right there, but you knew you had to hold on for him. Still, your hips bucked against him in a needy manner. "Aaron," You gasped, struggling to keep your eyes open. "Please," You sorely begged.

"What is it you need?" He taunted. "Use your words."

You whined. "You," you gasped, "need you inside of me. Need your cock Aaron. Please."

"There we go," He smirked.

He pulled his hand out and stood back straight, letting the fluid drench his fingers and cover himself in a few long pumps. "You sure?" He asked, raising his eyebrows while he continued to touch himself.

"God, yes." You groaned. "Been wanting this for so long. Please."

He lined himself up with your entrance and began to push himself in agonizingly slow. The second the head of his cock made contact with your cervix his head threw back and a loud, guttural, groan escaped his lips. "Fuck," He cursed, continuing his descent. "Shit sweetheart," He mumbled through his teeth.

"Aaron," You moaned. "O-one second," you pleaded, your walls clenching around him instinctively. "Need a second."

His head lowered and he looked at you with concern. "Of course," he replied formally. "Take all the time you need. It'll be better when I start moving though, okay?"

You nodded, gasping. You squeezed your eyes shut, taking a deep breath before looking back up at him standing over you. His face was flushed red, the muscles in his arms protruding and leaving a heavenly sight for your eyes. His hands wandered to your thighs, holding them open and squeezing the supple flesh beneath his fingers. You smiled, nodding at him, giving the silent 'okay' to move again.

"Doing so well," he praised. "So good for me. Knew you could do it."

He began to pull back, leaving half of himself in before pushing his hips forward to meet the same spot. He groaned, now beginning to pick up a slow yet deep rhythm that made you feel dizzy and hot.

"H-harder," you gasped. "You can go harder. Please." You asked again.

"Don't need to ask me twice," he joked, his hands moving to your waist and gripping tight. He pulled all the way back, snapping his hips forward again and hitting deep inside you. He pushed and pulled with his movements, the sound of skin slapping filling the room mixed with degenerate sounds that are more than unprofessional.

"You feel so good," Aaron gasped. "So fucking good, sweetheart." The constant praise made you clench down on him, a groan eliciting from his throat. "Love when you do that," he began, "drives me crazy. Been driving me crazy since I first saw you."

"G-gonna come Aaron," You warn, moans spilling from your mouth while he continues his relentless pounding.

"Yeah?" He says, "where do you want me, princess?" He groans.

The pet name alone made you whimper, eliciting a smirk from him. "Inside," you say through a moan. "On the pill. Need you inside."

He picks up his pace, slamming impossibly harder into your bruised cunt. He grips you harder, sure to leave hand-shaped bruises tomorrow. "Go on sweetheart," he urges. "Be a good girl, come for me."

That's all it took for you to yell his name, releasing yourself on his cock while he grinds his load into you, slowing his movements and letting you ride out your orgasm. He grunted your name repeatedly, toppling down on top of you so his weight is pressed on your body.

"Oh my god Aaron," you gasped, your eyes half lidded. You bring your hand to his face, running it up to his hair and wiping the sweat off of his forehead. "So good. Felt so good."

He grins, breathing heavily while his cock sits inside of you. "Did so good for me," he whispers, his own hand coming to rest on your cheek. "Such a good girl. So perfect."

You smile at the praise and let your body fall limp. He pulls himself out of you with a groan and you whine at the loss of pressure in your hips. "Need you to go to the bathroom," he says, grabbing your discarded panties and wiping the leftover cum spilling out of you. "Don't want you to get a UTI."

You whine again, sitting up with foggy eyes. "O-okay," you stutter, beginning to bring yourself to your feet but immediately toppling down on the bed again. He's quick to be by your side.

"Careful," he chuckles. "I'll walk you to the bathroom, hold on to me, yeah?"

You nod, gripping his forearm while you lead him there. It's not nearly as awkward as you thought, just intimate and loving. It's clear that tonight was much more than a fling.

When you arrive back in your bed, he slips in beside you and you give him a confused look. "Shouldn't... Shouldn't you go home? Jack," You whisper, your head in and out of consciousness.

"He's on a school trip, I'm not leaving you tonight." He reaffirms with a smile. "C'mere." He wraps an arm around your shoulders while you roll into his side, your face buried in his impossibly perfect chest. "You did so well tonight, honey."

You can't muster a response. Your brain is only occupied with the thought you'll get to sleep next to him tonight, so you hum happily and almost instantly fall asleep in his arms. He presses a tender kiss to your hair, lips lingering for a moment when you go limp in his arms. He smiles, a large and genuine smile, holding you protectively before falling asleep himself with the knowledge he has you to himself after nearly a year of pining.

[candlewaxandp0lar0ids]

jealousy, jealousy || Lee Know x Reader

Summary: "Sure, Minho missed an opportunity to spend more time around you in a relaxed setting, but is he upset about it? Does he get annoyed when he hears you talk with the guy behind him? Does hearing you chuckle at the guy’s stupid jokes, probably just to be polite, ‘cause he’s not that funny, make him want to claw the dude’s eyes out?

Well. Yes."

Or: You're working with a different partner for a group assignment, and Minho's totally chill about it.

Word count: 4.9k

Genres: college AU, coffee shop AU, strangers to lovers

Warnings & Tags: jealousy, kissing, minor language, tooth-rotting fluff, seriously this is so fluffy, reader is implied to have social anxiety, Thunderstorm

series masterlist

A/N: This is the second story I've written where Lee Know's a barista and cats are involved. It probably says something deep about me, but what? I hope you'll enjoy the fic, please consider letting me know your thoughts and reblogging the fic if you do~

Minho doesn't know exactly when he noticed you, or when you started appearing in his life. It’s kind of annoying actually, because he knows he noticed you because he kept seeing you around, but he has no way of pinpointing it. What he does know is that you started showing up at the coffee shop where he worked, twice every week. That wasn’t that big a deal, you were far from being the only one the only one, but it was a shop that was pretty out of the way, near an old building that was only used for a few classes, as far as he knew, so it wasn’t that frequented.

In fact, you could almost say that the people who bothered to come here were the weirdos who wanted to avoid the other permanently full coffee shops on campus. Which was fine by Minho, who wasn’t paid enough to deal with that sort of crowd.

Anyway, at some point, Minho’s brain had to have put together he was seeing you around quite a bit, and finally he managed to figure out that it was because you were in one of the classes he was rudely forced to take outside of his major. In his defense, it took him so long because he didn’t really like people, as a rule, and he paid as little attention to them as possible. His friends were enough of a hassle to deal with already.

It makes it all the more frustrating that he can’t tell what it was about you that caught his attention. It has to have been something. Once he starts trying to understand it, more things come to light. Like the fact that your lips move but your voice doesn’t come out when you thank him for giving you your order, or the sigh of relief you always seem to heave out when you let yourself fall at your favorite table, the one in the corner, where you sit with your back to the window.

Actually, from what he can see, you appear to do your best to stay out of people’s way. It’s a multitude of little things, from how you always sit in the middle of rows in the amphitheater and wait until everyone’s cleared out to leave, to how you keep close to the walls in the hallways, eyes usually on the floor, to how, on the couple of occasions when your voice can be heard in class, it’s only after the professor’s been waiting for an answer for an increasingly embarrassing amount of time.

The first time it happens — the first time Minho notices it happening, anyway — he has to make you repeat yourself louder, and it seems almost painful for you to raise your voice.

Then there’s that time when someone accidentally backs into you and the books and papers you’re carrying spill onto the floor.

“Shit, sorry,” they say, and you reply immediately, like it’s a reflex, “Oh, it’s nothing, don’t worry about it”, but afterwards, as you kneel next to the papers, you let out a defeated sigh, just staring at the mess for a few seconds. And that’s when Minho can’t stay in place anymore.

“Oh, thanks, you don’t have to do that,” you say, again, with that cadence that makes him feel like these are sentences that pour out of you without you getting much of say, so deeply ingrained in you that you can’t control them.

Then you glance up at him, and your eyes widen, little mouse caught in the cat’s gaze. He feels his lips curving into a grin. You recognize him, and you’re being very obvious about it too.

Cute.

“Thank you,” you repeat, taking your stuff from his hands and dipping your head to stop looking at him once you get control of yourself again.

“Vanilla latte, right?” he asks, and he probably shouldn’t be this amused by the way your head snaps back up and you freeze, but it’s— It’s kind of adorable. Though you’re obviously trying to reign yourself in, there is something so sincere about it that he can’t help but be enticed by it.

“Um,” you say. “Yes.” And then you visibly search for something to say next, rolling your lips together as if they’ll figure something out of a list of socially acceptable answers. As fun as this is, Minho decides to put you out of your misery.

For now anyway.

“I’ll give you a discount on the next one,” he says, and then he’s gone before you can start saying “You don’t have to do that”.

He actually slides the next one to you over the counter and tells you that it’s ‘on the house’. You hesitate for a few seconds, and he thinks you’re going to refuse, before you bow your head politely and thank him for it. You don’t quite look up at him after that, but a bright smile has spread on your lips.

Cute, he thinks, again, and then he doesn't think of it much at all. A part of his brain was intrigued by the novelty that you represented, and that part has been satiated now.

At least, that’s what he assumes.

You get his attention again a few weeks later. It’s fairly early in the morning and, as Minho does whenever he gets a chance, he’s behind the half abandoned building near the café, setting up some food for the cats that have taken residence here. It’s something he’s not really allowed to do, but also he’s never asked permission, so no one's told him that yet, which means that he’s not not allowed to do it either.

Still, when he hears footsteps approaching as he’s surrounded by a chorus of meows, there’s a part of him that considers making a run for it.

But then he’d have to run.

Which he doesn’t like doing.

You appear at the corner of the building before he’s made his decision. When your eyes meet, he half expects you to turn around and pretend you haven’t seen him. He’s pretty sure you’ve done that after a class, recently. You swallow, but you keep walking towards him, kneeling by his side and petting the cats as the braver ones rub themselves against your legs.

Whoever said that the surest way to a man’s heart was through his stomach clearly wasn’t obsessed with cats, because liking cats is maybe the most important requirement for Minho.

“Hi,” you say, at a surprisingly normal volume, and then, cadence a little too fast, “I have some cat food.”

Is it weird that he finds that attractive? It’s probably weird.

“Have you been stalking me?” he says more than he asks, vaguely aware of the fact that there’s something ironic about him saying those words.

Your eyes widen and you quickly shake your head.

“No! I— have classes in there,” you point at the building, “and I’ve— seen you come around here. We’ve been told we couldn’t feed the cats,” you add with a slight pout. “We still do it when we can get away with it, but it's good that someone is also taking care of them.”

And you break the law for the sake of cats. Isn’t this amazing.

“I can help you buy food,” you say. “If you’d like.”

He doesn't reply right away, and when the silence stretches a second too long, you start speaking again, faster and your voice lower now.

“Or not, you know, I don’t want to impose anything, I mean, I didn’t want to intrude—”

On the one hand, that seems more like you, based on the glimpses of you he’s been getting, and on the other, he’s not sure how to shut that down. The truth is, he can barely fit the expenses in his budget. He literally can't afford to refuse your help — but he doesn't think he’d do it if he could.

“You can help,” he says, interrupting you in the middle of a sentence where you’re basically apologizing for existing, and that seems to knock the breath out of you.

“Oh,” you say, “that’s good.”

He wonders if you walk into interactions with a prepared set of sentences and panic when anyone goes off script. That sounds kind of exhausting.

“I’ll bill you,” he adds, and the feeling he gets when you let out a light laugh is one he can’t quite explain. There’s a sense of pride in it, but also some much deeper satisfaction at the feeling of having gotten you to let that guard slip, even for just a few seconds.

“I have to go to class,” you say, getting up while you rummage through your tote bag to hand him a package of dry food. “But I’ll, uh, see you around?”

There’s an expectancy to your tone, a hope even. He wonders if you’re aware of it. Either way, that sincerity, which he’d noticed before, remains pleasantly refreshing.

“Sure,” he says.

The next time you show up at the coffee shop, Friday a few minutes after six, like always, he has your vanilla latte ready.

After that, Minho finds it fascinating to see how differently you react to him, depending on the situation. Every now and then, you meet him behind the building, usually early in the morning, before there are too many people around. They would probably recognize you, and then you’d get in trouble, you explain. Your voice is lighter then, your body more relaxed. You manage to chat with him, to make small talk.

‘Manage’ really is the word for it, because your behavior is worlds apart when he sees you in class. It’s clear by now that this just isn’t your element, so you stick to your script, and Minho just isn’t a part of it. He doesn’t take it too personally, considering that no one else seems to be either.

It’s obvious to him that you get there with the objective of being in and out of the building as efficiently as possible, and with as little interaction with others as you can get away with. He does approach you still on a couple of occasions, one of them being when the classes before yours ran late and everyone was waiting in the hallway. You're focused on your phone then, and you jump when he says your name.

“How are you doing?” he asks, leaning against the wall next to you.

“Oh,” you say, which he thinks is just your filler word to give yourself time to figure out what to say next. “Um. Good. How are you?”

“Good.”

Someone else would bristle at the awkwardness of the exchange, but Minho is mostly amused by it. After a few seconds of very visibly searching for something to say, you come up with “…and how are the cats?”, though your tone is hesitant, unsure.

“They’re good too,” he grins. “Went to visit them this morning. Also, I might have found an association that could them spayed.” He certainly can’t afford to pay for it.

“That’s great,” you say.

This time, he’s the one who takes it upon himself to save the conversation, casually pulling his phone out of his pocket.

“Wanna see my cats?”

You light up at the question, and Minho feels the same sort of pride he does when Dori jumps into his lap to ask for pets — instead of ungratefully evading him like the little shit he is.

It doesn’t last long, the class before yours ends soon, and after that you get back to your ‘just getting in and out’ state. It’s almost physical when it happens. The smile disappears from your lips as you press them together, you straighten your back, but the most impressive change is the way your eyebrows tighten, a small line forming between them. Minho almost wants to reach out to wipe it from your forehead, but he doesn’t. Baby steps, that’s what you need, not him invading your personal space by that much.

He doesn’t ask himself, even for a second, why he’s willing to go through that much trouble to get closer to you. He just goes with the flow, as he always has, and that works fine for him.

He doesn’t sit next to you in class, thinks it would only stress you out more, make you too aware of his presence and of how you react to it. Instead, he takes a spot right in front of you, where he can’t see you but can easily check on you if he wants to — which he does. He refrains from doing it too much though, because on more than one occasion, he caught you looking at him, and you averted your eyes quickly, acting a little too invested in your note taking.

He still thinks it’s cute, but he doesn’t want to make you go in hiding, so he holds himself back.

Which comes back to bite him in the ass, rudely, when the teacher announces that he wants people to work in pair for an assignment.

He turns around to ask you to work with him, and sees, right in front of his eyes, as the guy sitting next to you asks you the same thing in a casual manner. You reply too fast, one of your knee-jerk answers, he can tell, but it’s still done before he even got the time to open his mouth. He also knows, instinctively, that you’ll feel embarrassed if he asks you now, so he doesn’t, turning to his own neighbor while holding back the strange urge to hiss at the guy.

…maybe he spends too much time with cats, actually.

Minho’s fine with the situation. He is. He still gets to be around you some mornings, and you now look him in the eye when you place your order at the coffee shop. You also don’t recoil as much as you used to when he leans over the counter, ostensibly to flirt with you — though he’s like, 98% sure you haven’t realized that’s what he’s doing. He’s making progress in getting you to feel more comfortable around him.

Sure, he missed an opportunity to spend more time around you in a relaxed setting, but is he upset about it? Does he get annoyed when he hears you talk with the guy behind him? Does hearing you chuckle at the guy’s stupid jokes, probably just to be polite, ‘cause he’s not that funny, make him want to claw the dude’s eyes out?

Well. Yes.

He’s been moody about it for days, to the point that Jisung pouted at him, asking him “what was wrong with him these days”, and Changbin looked him dead in the eyes to ask him if he needed help to get a girl, because he clearly needed to get laid.

A conversation he got out of by replying “do you want to die”, which is a card he’s maybe been playing a little too much these days.

He’s been in a good mood today, though. He’d seen you in the morning, and you’d helped him try to make a small shelter for the cats, because it had been announced that there would be heavy rain over the whole week-end. It had been a fun time, and maybe he’d used the opportunity to get closer to you than usual, enjoying how flustered it made you. Just brushing against you as he grabbed some planks you’d sneaked out of the building, totally accidentally touching your hand when you handed him something, that kind of things.

He had somewhat ruined the effect by accidentally dropping a plank on his foot, but that had made you laugh, so, it was— No, it still wasn’t worth it, he didn’t enjoy pain, but it made him slightly less annoyed about it.

So, as he waited for you in the coffee shop, as the skies outside darkened and fewer people than usual showed up, he wasn’t in as bad a mood as he’d been lately.

It started to rain at around half past five. He would have loved to run to get you with an umbrella, but he, unfortunately, needed his job. He did get a towel ready to hand to you, in case you didn’t have anything to protect yourself from the rain.

And then you came in.

Under an umbrella.

Which was in the hands of the one guy that was your partner in that one class.

Violent thoughts of murder flash before Minho’s eyes.

“Hey,” you say as you walk to the counter, giving him a bright smile, “this is Jooyeon, he’s in—”

“Class with us,” Minho completes with a smile that’s very much fake, “yes, I recognize him.”

Actually, technically, Jooyeon hasn’t done anything wrong, but it doesn’t help that he’s been looking at you and following you around like a damn puppy. What annoys Minho the most is probably the fact that you seem a lot chiller around him, a lot more natural than you are whenever Minho’s around. That’s— upsetting. He wants to see these sides of you, too, and not just from afar.

One vanilla latte and an americano later, you and Jooyeon sit by the window, in your usual spot, and Minho can’t stop himself from glaring. Jisung, or anyone, really, would call him out on it in a matter of seconds, because he’s not being subtle about it, but there’s no one around right now. The room, which is rarely full, is emptier than usual because most people rushed to get home to try to avoid the downpour.

That means that there is nothing to distract him from the intrusive thoughts that are trying to convince him to just throw something at Jooyeon. Anything would do.

When it starts becoming a little too tempting, and considering that he doubts anyone would brave the rain that’s falling at the moment, as thick as a curtain separating the coffee shop from the outside world, he decides to grab his computer and try to get some work done.

Of course, because some divinity out there must have decided to target him today, he’s just getting started and finding his rhythm when the lights flicker above him. He glances up. In the distance, the thunder rumbles.

There’s a flash outside.

And everything goes dark.

Fuck. His. Life.

With a sigh, he pulls out his phone to turn on his flashlight. At least, in this day and age, most people in the shop have the same idea, and soon enough he can see what’s happening.

“It’s probably just a power cut because of the storm,” he announces loudly, because it’s his responsibility to reassure the clients — if that had been something they’d tested for when he was interviewed, he would never have gotten the job. “Lights might come back on soon.” Or not, how would he know. “No reason to panic.”

He scans the faces of students, though he’s not sure what he’s looking for. Some people look worried, others, no doubt those who know that this happens semi-regularly on campus when there’s a storm, because why would your tuition pay to ensure that you have reliable electricity in here, just seem prepared to wait it out. Someone’s already gone back to tapping on their keyboard, though the sound of it is swallowed by that of the rain.

But then, he does a double-take, just to check on an impression that he had, and that confirms what he thought.

You’re not in the room. Most likely explanation is that you’re in the bathroom, but he has to imagine that it’s a pretty freaky experience, when all the lights turn off without warning and you’re all alone.

So, without thinking much about it, he makes his way in that direction. He’s hesitating in front of the door when it pushes open, and he’s suddenly blinded by cellphone light.

“Sorry!” he hears you apologize before he can make out your face. “I, uh, is the power out?”

“It looks like it,” he answers, and then his tone softens. “Are you okay?”

There’s a few seconds of silence, and he can’t quite discern your expression, because you’ve both lowered your lights. He resists the urge to reach for you, to inspect you to see for himself that everything is fine.

“I’m fine,” you answer. “I just—”

Then there’s the crack of thunder, and you jump, gasping, before closing your eyes in obvious annoyance.

“Fuck,” you say, and he wonders if it’s the first time that he’s ever heard you swear. And if it’s weird that he’s kinda into it.

“You scared of storms?” he asks, trying his best to contain the amusement in his voice.

“No,” you protest, a little defensively. “I don’t like being surprised— Fuck!”

Minho knows he shouldn’t laugh, that making fun of you could ruin the trust he’s been trying to build this past month, but at your annoyance for letting yourself be taken by surprise, and considering your obvious lack of fear, he can’t help it. It comes out higher than his usual pitch, a little airy. You roll your eyes at it, but you don’t seem to miss the humor in the situation, because a smile forms on your lips as well.

At that point, because he isn’t one to let an opportunity slip, he reaches out to take your hand in his. Your palm is soft, if somewhat calloused on the spot under your fingers, and after the first moment of surprise, you squeeze his hand in response.

“It’s okay,” he says. “It should be over soon.” Then a pause. “Or maybe we’ll be stuck here until we have to decide who we’re going to eat.”

You laugh at that, brief and light, and as cliché as it is, Minho thinks that is quickly becoming one of his favorite sounds in the world. Especially when he’s the one making you laugh, and not that jackass Joo— Ah, the kid hasn’t technically done anything, and it feels silly to blame him when you’re here with your hand in his.

So he’ll let it go. For now.

As much as he would like to stay here with you, in the dark, away from everyone else, Minho unfortunately has stuff he needs to take care of right now.

“Wanna go back with the others? I think I have to keep an eye on them.”

“Sure,” you say. You don’t attempt to take your hand from his, and so he pulls you along with him. He’s not going to let go if you won’t.

Things in the café are still quiet, and people don’t pay a lot of attention when the two of you come back, except for Jooyeon, who gets up from his seat.

“That must have taken you by surprise,” he says with empathy. “Everything okay?”

“All good,” you reply warmly, and there’s a pinch in Minho’s chest again. “I think we’ll have to postpone the session though. I’ll let you know when I’m free, if that’s okay with you?”

Ugh. Minho tunes Jooyeon’s response out, only waiting for an opportunity to whisk you away. He probably shouldn’t feel this strongly about it, is aware that you’re entirely within your own rights if you want to pick Jooyeon over him, but from his perspective, that doesn’t mean he has to let it be an easy decision to make. He’s not the type to lie down and just watch as that happens.

So the second Jooyeon’s eyes flick back to his computer, Minho’s taking you towards the counter with him. He checks the register once he’s there — which he definitely shouldn’t have let unattended without verifying that it couldn’t be accessed without electricity, oops, his bad — and after having confirmed that everything’s fine, his eyes go back to you.

The spike in his heart rate when he finds you already staring at him surprises him a little. He supposes that he can’t be that jealous without also having that sort of reaction to you. It’s not… unpleasant, actually, though the strength of it surprises him. It’s not the kind of emotion he usually welcomes, he’s used to them feeling less sharp, duller. But he doesn’t reject that one.

Gently, he rubs the back of your hand with his thumb, enjoying the feeling of your skin against his.

“Is there an issue between him and Jooyeon?” you ask, voice soft.

Ah. For someone who’s so completely oblivious about his interest in you, you were sure quick to notice that.

“You could say that,” he replies, and you frown.

“I didn’t know that,” you say, words coming out slow, like you’re figuring out what to say as you go, instead of defaulting to your usual pre-built answers. “Can I ask why?”

Minho raises an eyebrow. Then, wordlessly, he shifts himself so that you’re against the counter, with him standing in front of you. It’s interesting, because he’s almost exactly in the spot where he is every day, and every time he steals glances at you to make his day marginally better. He puts his hands on either side of you, hears you take a sharp breath.

“Is it okay if I kiss you?”

His voice comes out soft and muted, and as he asks, he feels something squeeze at his heart. Maybe because he’s not sure of what you'll answer. Maybe because he could have misread you, thought that you were oblivious when the truth was that you weren't interested. He could be keeping you away from your one true love, Jooyeon, who you’re going to go on to marry and have three k—

“Yes,” you squeak.

Ok, never mind.

Technically you’re in public, but it’s not like anyone’s looking your way, or like they'd see something other than silhouettes when he leans towards you.

It feels so natural when he kisses you. You lift your arms to wrap them around his neck, his hands find their place on your hips. Much to his surprise, you’re the one who presses yourself into him, lips moving softly against his, and it sends a jolt of electricity through his body. Suddenly there’s urgency running through his veins, desire, and his fingers dig harder into you. He kisses you with more intensity, like he’s trying to get rid of any space left between the two of you, and the soft sigh you let out only spurs him on further.

He’s seconds — fractions of seconds — away from doing something stupid when laughter and claps fill the room.

He parts from you, feeling his ears and cheeks turning red already, and discovers that the lights treacherously turned back on, and everyone is looking at the two of you. Protectiveness rushes through him, and he’s about to say something snappy, thinking that you’d be uncomfortable with it, when he realizes that you’re doubled over in laughter. Yes, you look a little embarrassed, but mostly, you seem fine with it.

Which is good, because otherwise he thinks he might have lost the shop a number of customers.

Everyone looks amused and happy for the two of you. Even Jooyeon’s grinning, though the look he gives Minho says, essentially, “Oh that was your problem”. It doesn’t capture people’s attention very long, but there’s something very sweet and human about the moment and how happy it seems to make everyone. Some regulars even exchange glances that seem to mean ‘I told you so’. Ha, he didn’t think he’d ever become campus gossip.

Once there are fewer eyes on the two of you, Minho leans towards you.

“I’ll take you on a date anywhere, as long as it’s not to get coffee.”

Your face lights up.

“I’d love that.”

Working at a coffee shop is not something that Minho finds very fun. Someone who enjoys human interactions more than him might, but it just feels very repetitive to him. Doing the same movements, asking the same questions, having to deal with the same issues from asshole customers who are different but also fundamentally the same person. The ding of cash register, the one of no contact credit cards, the buzzing of the coffee machine. It’s repetitive, but in a way that fills and numbs the mind.

There’s just one sound that he minds a little less now, and it’s the one the door makes when it opens.

Because, every now and again, it means that you’ve just come in.

“Hey,” you say as you reach the counter. You’re smiling so bright, and he loves it because he knows that it’s another one of those things that you can’t help. You’re smiling because he makes you happy, and isn’t that the best thing in the world?

“Dating the barista doesn’t entitle you to free coffee,” he says as he slides your vanilla latte over to you, though he has used his employee discount on everything you’ve ordered lately and he would very much give it to you for free if you didn’t insist on paying for your own stuff.

“We’re still on for tonight?” you ask, taking the coffee from the table.

“You think I’d let you get out of it?” he replies, and you laugh, before taking off to go to your usual table.

After that, he keeps going, keeps doing the same movements, asking the same questions, hearing the same noises. But sometimes, he glances in your direction and finds you focused on your computer, biting your lower lip as you’re deep in thought, or looking at him with a smile, and it makes it all more bearable.

Because you give him something to look forward to.

Taglist: @lethallyprotected @jisuperboard

[yeollie-plz]

Fix Me

Preoutbreak! Joel Miller x F! Reader

Synopsis: Joel fixes stuff around your house, until Joel fixes you.

Genre: fluff, angst, smut

Warnings: Age gap (reader is mid twenties, Joel is mid thirties), kissing, crying, mentions of panic attacks, mentions of trauma, oral f! receiving, 18+ smut, porn with plot, slow burn? (ok not really but), reader is a hot mess!, insecurities, unprotected sex (don't be like them!), spanking, masturbation

Gif credits to owners!

The first time you met Joel was about a week after you moved in. Your house was directly across from his and for that week you would see him here and there. You had to admit you found him a bit attractive. You eventually wanted to go around the neighborhood and introduce yourself, instead he surprised you by coming knocking at your door.

Having just finished showering you weren't really prepared for visitors, wearing only a robe and your hair wet and stringy draped on your shoulders. So when the heavy knock rang on your door, you sighed, glancing down at your appearance. You debated if you could just ignore the knock, until another sounded.

Rolling your eyes, you decided there was no other choice but to answer. You swung the door open a bit too aggressively, finally looking at who was standing there. It was the neighbor that you had all but stalked this past week. Okay, you found him very attractive!

You blushed at your actions, seeing that his eyes widened at them as well. It seemed as though your neighbor also noticed your disheveled state, his eyes scanning over your figure. His held at your chest for a second longer before he met your eyes.

"Sorry, I'm Joel, I live across the way there." He motioned towards his place. "I just noticed that there was a hole in your porch and well I'm a contractor so..." He trailed off.

"Okay?" You said trying to urge him to get to his point so you could get back into your house. No matter how cute your neighbor was, he was not worth standing basically naked in your doorway for.

"I...um...thought maybe I could fix it for ya. I can just get it done quickly now. No charge, if I'm honest I've wanted to fix it for a while now."

"So, you came all the way over here to fix my porch?" You tilted your head in confusion. He nodded.

"I guess I have. So, darlin', do ya mind?" You tried to ignore the term of endearment and shook your head.

"I mean sure, that's fine...I guess." You whispered the last part, trying not to come off too taken aback. "I'm going to go look more presentable, you can go ahead and start." You motioned at your robe and Joel's eyes lingered once more.

You ignored it and stepped inside, closing the door behind you. You quickly sorted out your appearance. Before returning outside you stopped in your kitchen grabbing a cup and filling it with ice and water for Joel.

You silently opened your front door so you watch Joel work for a minute. You had found Joel attractive the moment you laid eyes on him, but something about watching the man work. The bead of sweat that rolled down the side of his face as he concentrated on fitting a board into the hole. The bit of skin that showed at the hem of his shirt as he reached further to grab a tool. You shook your head ignoring the growing heat between your thighs and cleared your throat. Joel's head snapped up to you, whipping his brow as he stood.

"I brought you some water, its a bit hot today." You handed him the cup. He took it was a nod of appreciation.

"I'm Y/N by the way. I never introduced myself earlier."

"Nice to meet you darlin'. I've been waiting to finally learn your name." You tried to hide your shock at his statement. He chuckled and sat the cup on the little table you had there.

"I'm 'bout done here. You can go ahead and cool off inside. I'll clean this up. Let me know if you need anything else fixed, you know where I live." He said. You could've sworn you saw his eyes drop to your lips at the mention of fixing something else. No, that can't be, you decided. You had just met the man!

"Uh, sure. Thanks Joel." He winked at you and went back to his project, leaving you not only confused but also a bit hot and bothered.

The weeks that followed, part of you wanted something to break so that you could talk to Joel again. You would see him go to work and come back, but you had no reason to really approach him. Some days you would sit out on your porch and watch him leave. His eyes would lock onto yours. This would earn you a smirk and small wave. To which you blushed and waved back.

One evening you got as bold as to check your mail around the time that he would be home. Lingering by your mailbox until you saw the familiar truck pull down the street into his driveway. That day he called out your name with a hello and you didn't stop thinking about it all night long.

You couldn't believe the way you were behaving. You barely knew Joel and yet you were entranced by him. He was almost your every waking thought. There was something in that manifesting though, as one morning you were making breakfast and a cabinet door came off one of its hinges.

You almost shrieked in excitement as you left the door hanging there. Later that night, you saw Joel's car pull up once more. You grabbed the plate of cookies you had made earlier and made your way across the street. This time you knocked on Joel's door. He answered with a surprised look on his face.

"Y/N?"

"Joel, hi! Um I wasn't sure how serious your offer to fix things was but my cabinet came off its hinges earlier and I don't have the correct screw so...I brought cookies." You held out the plate to him after your rant.

He laughed, "It was serious. Uh, I can come over Sunday to do it? It's been a long day." He rubbed the back of neck awkwardly.

"Oh! Of course! No problem at all!" Calm down, Y/N, calm down.

Another chuckle, as he finally took the plate of cookies from your hands.

"Thank you for these. Sarah will love 'em."

"Sarah? Your..." Your stomach twisted, did he have a wife? You had never seen a woman around.

"My daughter, chocolate chip is her favorite." Relief washed over you.

"Well, I hope you both enjoy them! My grandma's recipe, they are amazing, totally not biased!" He laughed and leaned against his door frame to take you in. A look of content on his face. Almost like he was weighing his options.

Fire sparked through your body and met between your legs at the look. Clearing your throat you spoke quickly, "So, I'll see you Sunday then! Have a good week, Joel!" You rushed back across the street just barely hearing his "You too!" being called out behind you.

Sunday couldn't come soon enough. In the days between then and now you had been very very frustrated. Yes, sexually frustrated. Something about the way Joel looked at you went straight to your panties. He was very easy to fantasize about.

You fantasized about him coming over, the full intention of fixing the cabinet, but nailing you instead. Digging his fingers into your hips as he lifted you onto the counter, teeth nipping at your neck. He would drop to his knees, dragging your panties down with him.

You fantasized about pulling him by his collar into your bedroom, lips connected the entire time. Passion radiating off the two of you as you pushed him onto your bed. You swung your legs over his hips, straddling him. As you continued to crash your lips into his, grinding onto his hardening member. The feeling of his jeans through your thin panties, driving you insane.

You fantasized about taking a shower together. You fantasized about him taking you on the dining table. You fantasized about him taking you on that very porch you met, for all of the neighborhood to see. God, you fantasized about him fucking you anywhere and everywhere.

It was becoming a problem.

How were you supposed to face him when your toys had gotten the most use they ever had at the expense of him? You were fucked. Royally, officially, in every way.

So, when Joel finally did come over on Sunday the only thing that ran through your mind was an image of him inside of you. Which was causing a few attention issues on your part.

"Y/N?" He called through your daydream. He was leaning on your kitchen counter staring at you with his head cocked in amusement. You dragged your eyes down him muscular arm, following the veins to his hand. Your breath caught as you pictured him eating you out there, those fingers pumping in and out of you.

"You feelin' alright, sugar?" His amusement was now changed to light concern as you still weren't responding. Goosebumps rose on your skin.

You blinked and shook your head, attempting to wash the images out of your head. Shifting your weight, you pulled at your collar, suddenly feeling too hot.

"I-yeah, I'm fine. It was just a long week." The first excuse you could think of, yet it was sort of true. A long week of touching yourself to the man that was now standing in front of you.

"I hear that! Well I'm done here so I'll just head out and let ya relax." He smiles and pushes himself off the counter, collecting the last few of his things.

He had almost made it to the door when you called out his name, stopping him in his tracks. You weren't sure what had possessed you in the moment to give you this confidence.

"Can I, uh, ask you a question?"

"Sure, sugar." He smiled at you once again.

"Are you dating anyone?" His smile stayed but something different flashed behind his eyes.

"No, I'm not. What made you curious?" He was trying to read you now. He had that look on his face again like he was debating closing the distance between the two of you.

"Darlin'?" The question came when you didn't answer, he took a step towards you.

"No reason, really! I just..." You searched his eyes like he would give you an out.

A laugh, "Well if you do find a reason, let me know." And with that he left, leaving you cursing yourself in your living room.

Spring came with the next month. And with spring came the thunderstorms. You had never been a huge fan of them, something about the booming sounds and sharp sparks of light always made your skin crawl. Your therapist was convinced there was a deeper reason behind the trauma but you hadn't been able to uncover it yet. All you knew was with thunderstorms came panic attacks and sleepless nights.

You would get up later in the morning, missing the opportunity to watch Joel get to work. And you were too busy bundled into a cocoon hiding from the storms at night to watch him return. Although you didn't know it, Joel was missing seeing you. So like a few nights before this he was watching your house, trying to catch a glimpse of you.

He had been jolted awake by a particularly loud crash of thunder, and after tossing and turning for a bit, he sighed and got out of bed. Originally going downstairs to grab a glass of water his eyes caught on your house when he noticed your bedroom light still on. Joel glanced at the clock on the wall. 2:45? What were you still doing up?

Watching your window for a minute, to see if you would switch the light out. That's when a big strike of lightening struck, knocking out all the power of the neighborhood. Joel rushed to his front door, not even bothering to put on some shoes and ran across the street to your house. He wasn't even sure why he was doing it but his body moved as if being controlled by someone else.

He got to your door, out of breath and soaked. That's when another bolt struck, the thunder following closely after it. But over all that he heard your scream. Without a second thought he turned the handle of your front door, finding it not locked.

Joel rushed through your house to your bedroom, following the sounds of your sobs. Opening the door without a second thought. You glanced up quickly, letting out another scream.

Joel held his hands up, "Sorry! I heard a scream and instinct kicked in. Your door was unlocked. I just...wanted to make sure you were alright."

"Joel." You whispered his name. Tears slid down your cheeks.

"Doll." He whispered back, testing the waters.

"I'm fine, just thunderstorms aren't my favorite thing in the world."

His eyes searched your own. "I can stay and talk with you if you need. That usually helps me."

You smiled, "Sure, that would be nice."

He walked towards the bed, about to sit on the edge of it when you stopped him.

"Wait! You're soaking wet, let me run you a bath!" You pushed yourself out of your cocoon and moved towards the bathroom. A hand around your wrist stopped you. It sent a spark through your body.

"Hate to break it to you, Sugar, but no power means no hot water. I should be the one drawing a bath for you anyways." His grip was light, like he was scared to hurt you. He noticed you looking at it and let go. "Sorry."

You shook your head, "You'll get sick all wet. Let me at least get you a change of clothes." Returning soon after with a stack of clothes.

"Here these are my dad's, should fit. There's towels in the closet if you need it." Handing them to him, you shrugged.

"Your dad's?" He took them with a bit of reluctance, insecurity washing over him.

"Mhm." You nodded, not noticing his change in demeanor and sat back on the bed. Eyes watching as he went into the bathroom and closed the door.

You looked up when he came back out, "How did it go?"

"It was a bit difficult in the dark but I managed." He stop there nervously, something still brewing in his mind.

You patted the bed next to you, silently telling him what you wanted. He took the hint and settled in close to you, but not touching. Sitting there in silence for a few minutes.

"I thought was were supposed to talk." You finally spoke up, intending for it to come off as a joke.

"You're right, sorry I just got in my head for a minute there."

You shifted your body closer to his, finally feeling his body heat radiating onto your own. It sent a shiver down your spine.

"Cold?" He asked. You shook your head no.

"Nope-" you cleared your throat, "-what were you in your head about?" An awkward silence washed over you as if he was debating telling you the truth.

Finally he sighed, "It was you giving me your dad's clothes."

"My dad's clothes?"

"Yeah, it just made me remember how much older I am than you."

It took you a second but you laughed. He gave you a sideways look. The look made you stop and blush at your inappropriate reaction.

"Sorry, but its a little funny. Its only like an eight year difference!"

"Nine." He corrected.

"Fine, nine. One year doesn't change that it isn't a big gap. The heart wants what it wants, isn't that the saying?" You hadn't realized what you said until it had slipped past your lips. "Uh-I mean..."

That's when Joel's lips crashed into yours, his hands fumbling around the sheets trying to find purchase of your hips. Your own finding their way around the back of his neck. His cold fingers made contact with your warm skin, causing a gasp to escape your lips. He took this opportunity to push his tongue into your mouth, taking control. Your fingers played with the hairs on the back of his neck.

Your lips moved in synch for a while, just feeling each other. The sexual tension that had been building for the past months finally coming to the surface.

"Do you want this?" He asked as he pulled away to trail his kisses down your neck. You nodded aggressively.

"Words, darlin'."

"I want this. I want all of you Joel." It came out breathlessly, you were barely able to find your voice.

He smirks into your neck, "Dirty girl."

At the name, you let out a whimper. His lips return to your own as he grinds his hips down. You feel his hard member graze your clit and you jerk up to meet his hips. You need him.

"'m not gonna last long, darlin'. I've been wanting to fuck you for weeks."

"Me too." You confirmed, blushing at his confession.

"Yeah? You been touching yourself to the thought of me?"

You nod.

"Show me." Normally this request would make you nervous, but something about the way Joel looks at you gives you confidence. And if this gets him to touch you then you'll do anything.

He backs off the bed to give you room. He towers over you now, watching you with hungry eyes. You pull your shirt over you head slowly. You want to give him a show. You stand now, pushing your pants and underwear down with a sway of your hips.

Turning around, you bend down to get your feet out of your pants, shoving your ass into Joel's crotch. He growls, actually growls at the action and lands a hand on your ass. Not enough to leave a mark or cause any real pain, but enough for you to lose your balance and fall onto your stomach onto the bed. His body now covers your own as he pulls your earlobe with his teeth.

"You gonna be a good girl for me or am I gonna have to punish you?" The whisper is so gruff that it almost doesn't sound like him but goddamn does it turn you on.

"Mm, I'll be a good girl."

"Good, now show me how you touch yourself." He lifts his body off of yours and you flip over. Running your hands down the swell of your breasts, letting them linger slightly at your nipples, toying with them. Joel watches intently. You move them down your stomach and finally to your soaked lips.

Your index finger slides easily with the amount of slick you produced during your make out session. If you're being honest most of it is probably from when he whispered in your ear just now but!

You toy with your clit for a second, letting a moan push past your lips at finally receiving what you really need. You let your fingers tease your lips before pushing one inside yourself. The stretch being exactly what you need. Actually, exactly what you need is standing there palming his erection.

"Joel, need you." You moan out as you add another finger inside yourself. This is all he needs to pounce onto you once again and replace your fingers with his own. Now fucking you with his two digits, the stretch being so much more delicious than your own. He reconnects your lips.

"Baby, I need to be inside you now." He admits.

"Please." You are almost begging now. He pulls his shirt over his head quickly. Rising to his feet he undoes his pants and pulls them down. Leaning over you again, he kisses you, rubbing himself onto your wet core.

"Do you have a condom, sugar?" You shake your head no. "Fuck."

"It's okay, I'm clean and on birth control."

"I'm clean too. Are you sure?" His previous dominant attitude is now replaced with concern.

"Yes, I'm sure, I just need you now." He takes your word for it and pushes into you in one swift motion. Usually your wetness as to easily push in. He stretches you out completely, causing you to grab his bicep in a search for support.

"You okay?" He askes.

"Yeah, just need a moment. You're bigger than my toys." You give yourself a minute to adjust to his size. You feel your walls contract onto his member, your body wanting him to move. "Okay, I'm ready. Ruin me."

"With pleasure." And he does just that. He fucks you at a speed that almost feels inhuman. His hips meet yours roughly, sliding his cock almost fully to the tip and then bottoming out inside of you. Part of you thinks you'll have bruises tomorrow from how roughly he is thrusting into you, but honestly it will be worth it. Especially with how good you are feeling right now.

His pace falters a bit when you clench around him, "Fuck." He mutters. Regaining his pace quickly. "Told ya I'm not gonna last. Need to make you cum, baby."

You moan at his words and clench onto him once again, earning a slap to you thigh. His hand reaching up and fondling your breast, quirking the nipple with two fingers, causing your hips to jerk up meeting his trusts.

"Come on, baby, I know you're close." Those fingers now make their way down to your clit, working it in circles. You moan at the feeling, feeling yourself getting closer and closer.

With one particularly hard thrust, he hits that spot inside of you. The mixture of that with him toying with your clit causes the coil to snap inside of you and your body warms in your orgasm. Shuddering your hips move involuntarily as he fucks you through your orgasm. Only letting go of your clit with he decides you have had enough.

"There it is." He kisses you and begins to chase his own orgasm. "Where do you want me?"

Inside of responding you open your mouth and stick you tongue out. His eyes go even darker as he speeds his hips up. Joel gets himself to the edge before pulling out of you. You quickly sit up and wait for his cum. He grunts and shoots all of himself down your throat. You swallow dutifully.

He smirks, "Pretty girl. Don't let any go to waste." He runs his thumb across a bead of his spend on the corner of your mouth pushing it inside. You lick all around his thumb, sucking lightly.

"Fuck, darlin', you're gonna get me started again."

"Maybe I want you to." You look at him with hooded eyes, smirking.

"You're in for it now." He grabs your hips and pushes you down onto the bed, attacking your mouth with his own.

You didn't sleep that night either.

[velvetures]

Got Me Snoring pt.2

A/N: I'm so sorry it took so long... I've been doubting doing a part two simply because the first blew up like... crazy... and I'm afraid this one isn't going to measure up to the first. But THANK YOU to everyone for the love on part one... it's wild how much you all liked it. I appreciate all of you thirsty fuckers. Summary: Ghost is set on giving you the same change of perception on reviving head after figuring out just how bad you are at taking care of yourself. T/W: NS/FW 18+ ONLY, cunnilingus, size kink if you squint, spit?, lots of fem! fluids, a little male fluids..., cursing, aggressive tension?, taunting, not proofread, and I'm still terrified this is gonna suck.

You woke up with a sore throat.

No doubt or haze in your mind about how it happened or why. And the only thing you could think was the word big…. big… big…

God, Ghost was so fucking huge. You nearly mistook the images in your mind for a dream. One so goddamn filthy you’d not be able to look him in the eyes. Only one of those big hands was sprawled over your belly. Fingers digging possessively into the little bit of pudge under them. Denting your skin and steadily reminding you of the rest of his body melted against the back of yours. You’d not moved an inch all night. Highly unusual on a normal day, but not with your Lieutenant sharing the bed.

Sharing a seat on the plane home wasn’t familiar either.

He felt inhumanly warm with his arm rubbing yours as the jet stream rocked the cabin of the plane. And the looks shared between the others as they watched the pair of you didn’t make your skin feel any cooler. Gaz staring at the spot where Ghost’s thigh rested against yours nearly made your pants singe. You couldn’t believe Ghost was just sitting there with his head leaning back against the wall. Maybe sleeping… he wasn’t really moving much. But you couldn’t tell. Nor possess enough confidence to look up or nudge him and find out.

Your sore throat ached a bit too. Raw, and making your voice scratchy, it’d been hard to give a solid ‘good morning’ without everyone asking if you’d come down with something. Your only thought was how Ghost came down something… and you had swallowed. A thought that felt good to hear in your own head… at least when Captain Price wasn’t looking at you with sharp, observant eyes.

Surprisingly, Ghost wasn’t the one who made you feel anxious. He’d been… different in leading up to the flight home. Having your bag packed before you’d noticed, getting you up before the others…. ‘Answer their questions later, little one.’ he’d whispered, masked mouth heating up your ear as he murmured so closely to it. Thoughtful… you’d decided. Realizing only after he’d solved the problem that waking up in bed with him would’ve caused a stir amongst the boys. He even made you tea… the way you like it; With some thick honey at the bottom. No doubt for your rasping voice.

No. Ghost was different.

No one had the gall to mention the Lieutenant strangely shadowing you though. Like you’d suddenly gained a massive black phantom tagging alone at your heels. On missions he would linger close by without anyone noticing, but that just felt… professional. Watching his wide shoulders slump towards yours while sitting on a shitty, makeshift, bench in a cargo plane? That was a whole different look. Even Price spent a good half hour chewing on an unlit cigar, trying to work out what you two had talked about the night before for Ghost to act like this. It was clear though. None of them suspected anything close to what actually happened.

Sitting next to him felt surreal. Especially when he’d been the one who silently insisted that you sit next to him. Having snatched you by your belt and tugged you onto the bench beside him instead of letting you find somewhere mushed between Gaz and Soap like normal. A low grunt of a sound and a firm nod pointed in your direction once he got a look at you sitting next to him much more shyly than normal.

You could smell his cologne, and memorize the tattoos peeking out close to his wrist. Feel his leg twitch to steady himself in his seat when the plane shook a bit. Even listen to the sound of his steady breathing. A whole new experience you’d not really thought about trying before. You nearly felt like you were learning Ghost all over again. Taking every small movement and reexamining it. Because… you couldn’t deny that he had readjusted his view of you.

A blowjob shouldn’t have felt that… intimate, you thought. Remembering the undeniably filthy things Ghost had said. It should’ve left you fulfilled… but not like you actually were. Some warm, expanding feeling, filling up your chest and making you want to hide your face and giggle. A grade school crush level of nervous energy you’d never felt towards a man before. Yet here you were, sitting there half-dumbstruck, watching your Lieutenant stretch his long legs and sigh softly as the landing gear rolled to a stop on the tarmac.

“Comin’?” He muttered, voice level. Maybe a bit impatient as those dark eyes settled on you.

Normal… you reminded yourself. He wasn’t talking you differently; No need to over analyze everything. Letting him lead was the smartest thing. The only way, really.

“Yeah,” Your voice makes you hesitate to say anything more. “Just got stuck staring…”

Ghost doesn’t show any real reaction. Just nods, and grabs his rucksack off the floor next to him. Wordlessly taking yours along in the same hand, walking off with -essentially- everything you had. Suddenly motivating you to not only move your ass off the plane, but follow his long strides to wherever it was he was possessed to go. And whether or not the others even noticed, you didn’t have the luxury of worrying about.

The Lieutenant had your weapons… and your only clean pair of pants.

You didn’t have to follow him far though. Only walking a few meters past your own quarters and down a hallway. Staring at the wide gap between his shoulder blades and the heavy sway that rocked the belt clipped around his hips.

He had your bag tossed next to his on a desktop inside his room without a single trace of the fact it wasn’t a habit. Sitting down heavily and reaching over stiffly to tug at the laces of his boots. Toeing them off with small squeaks of new leather and sitting them under the desk. Either purposefully staying silent to listen to your brain working, or totally unaware that you were stupidly standing there, watching your Lieutenant do a decidedly human thing with wide eyes.

“Come’ere…”

Ghost took off your boots just as simply as his own. Quiet, leaned over your foot propped up on his thigh and not even mentioning your hand resting on his shoulder to steady yourself. Feeling him tug the blouse out of your pant legs, and gently squeeze at your ankle to hold your foot steady.

You didn’t know how to feel about it.

Mortified… maybe. For the simple fact that you had worn the same socks for two days and his head was too close for comfort. Touching you. At least, touching you in a way that wasn’t meant for sex. It didn’t feel like you were doing enough. Weren’t providing him anything.

Guilty… yes? This wasn’t something normal in any situation. You hated a return. It’s what made you feel like you were causing a problem. Made laying low and staying quiet a habitual behavior. And Ghost being the one bent over and struggling to undo the tight knots in your laces? Nearly unacceptable. He didn’t need to… shouldn’t lower himself like that.

Ghost noticed it and you tried to beat him to the punch.

“You don’t have to-”

“Look like you’re gonna faint.”

That hand squeezing softly on your ankle tightens a little before releasing, gliding up your calf and patting you softly before guiding it off his leg. Those dark eyes look up and down your clothes, over your decidedly nervous expression, and back down to your boots before sitting them right next to his.

“Don’t tell me…” he mutters, leaning back in his chair, hands resting on his hips. “You’re not a fan of receiving… are you?”

~

The next two days, you leaned quickly that what was his, suddenly had made room to account for you as well. Almost instantaneously you’d been accounted for in just about every single way you could think of. You washed laundry… you found it put away in one of his drawers. You ordered food to base… it was in his room, not yours. Tried to get into your old quarters… the key wouldn’t open it anymore.

How he’d managed it, you didn’t even want to know. But, Ghost effortlessly took into account every single thing necessary to move you into his life without even a single question. And managed to do it perfectly. You couldn’t question it either, since he’d accomplished the endless tasks to such a degree of attention that you weren’t sure a man could even reach.

“Um, have you seen my black jeans?” The question felt a bit odd, and so did standing in the doorframe of his bathroom with a towel wrapped around you.

“Top drawer. In the closet, next to my pants.”

You couldn’t quite adjust this easily. Not that it wasn’t what you wanted per se. You’d enjoyed Ghost’s company more than anyone else the past couple days. And while he’d been accommodating, it wasn’t like he was bowing to your feet. He came and go as he wanted and didn’t crowd you like he was clingy either. However he did make you feel uneasy with how little he made a fuss about doing something for you.

You never asked for him to do anything. Yet he managed to do everything you ‘hadn’t gotten around to’. And worst of all, when it was time to sleep, he wouldn’t lay down until you eventually caved in and crawled under the blankets first. Almost like he was letting you get settled exactly how you wanted before even thinking about moving closer. No sex. No outward attempt at it. Not even a subliminal hint that he wanted more of your mouth, or anything else for that matter.

It nearly broke you. Or, better spoken, broke your perception of how you expected him to act. Which, made sense considering Ghost wasn’t anything close to the men you’d been with previously. They were always pushy… and he didn’t even push you to your side of the bed when you unconsciously wormed your way to his side at night. Your exes treated sex like a favor needing to be owed. And Ghost wouldn’t begin to act like he’d ever thought about the possibility despite having fucked your throat like he owned it.

Your jeans were indeed in the drawer next to his. And he did ask you to grab a pair of his as you retrieved yours, adding on that you’d be leaving in fifteen minutes… unless you needed more time to get ready.

You finished up in less than ten.

A bar on a Saturday night was Soap’s idea. Drinks, a few cigars, and the whole task force was his way of ‘team bonding’ and no one had a good enough excuse to deny him. Especially when there was a new mission lingering in the next couple weeks, and Price already had the files on hand. You thought it was a bit cliché. Sitting in a musty bar, listening to Price talk over the music about terrain, entry points, possible back-up, and the preemptive teams he was putting together.

It seemed his mind had been working just as hard as yours over the past days. Only you were preoccupied with Ghost’s hand firmly kneading at your thigh under the table. His thumb working at a sore spot just up and to the right of your knee. Forefinger squeezing to alternate the pressure and resist from making the movements feel too harsh. Looking far too relaxed while scanning a document and flipping through the pages with his free hand.

You’d resisted for hours at this point. Forcing yourself to stay quiet and not say something about it. Reminding yourself he was just doing it because he wanted to. Not because he thought he’d get something out of it. He wasn’t holding out. Every time his skilled fingers found another sore spot that made you twitch, you needed to physically clamp your mouth shut or take a drink so you didn’t tell him to stop.

“Another round?” Gaz held up a few bills in his hand, looking around the table.

When everyone agreed, you lost the willpower to sit still. Straightening up and trying to scoot towards the edge of your seat.

“I’ll go up since you’re paying.” The rush in your voice was lost on everyone. Everyone but the man who suddenly locked down with a vice grip on your leg.

Ghost didn’t even flinch. Still looking at the file in his hand, but that cold grip on you didn’t hesitate. Gluing you to your seat and enhancing the sudden sensation of his fingertips dipping under the ripped material stretching over your thigh. You couldn’t understand it. Dumbly trying a second time to stand up, only for it to earn you a side-eyed glance and a slight pinch to your exposed skin.

“No.” he muttered, chin jutting out in the direction of the man, already heading towards the table after seeing Gaz pull out cash .“The waiter’s comin’.”

And right on cue, a younger guy walked up and began taking orders. Going around the table, and stopping at Ghost was a very familiar kind of apprehension on his face after seeing that black mask stretched over his face. If only he could see under the table at the way your thigh was shaking from the soft touches.

“Nothin’ for us,” Such a cool dismissal of the guy that you hardly even notice what he said. “Price, leavin’ out.” He added, moving his hand to palm the back of your neck easily. Giving the slightest tug to get you up out of your seat as well.

“Little one’s comin’ with me.”

Not a soul at the table questions it.

~

Against the wall yet again.

Not unlike the first time… Ghost has a pattern. You’re breathless, but much more unaware of how this situation is going to play out. He hadn’t said a word in the drive, and kept the tightest sightline out the windshield you couldn’t even see his irises from your profile view in the passenger seat. The second he could spot the door to his room? His big body bullied yours right where he wanted it. Keeping you pacified by a hand over your mouth and dark, plotting eyes glaring down.

“Why’d you do that?” His question further raised the questions in your head. It’s all you can do to shrug, as if you had much autonomy over the rest of your body at this point anyways.

“At the bar,” The clarification deepens his irritated tone. “Why’d you take orders like that, huh? Like some fuckin’ maid.”

“You all wanted drinks.”

Unfortunately it’s not the answer he wanted, and you’re hauled that much further up the wall. Only now, you’re suspended fully off the ground. Balanced on his forearm jammed between your thighs; feeling his palm flat against the wall. God, it felt fucking ridiculous. He shouldn’t been able to do it, but he wasn’t even shaking. Dead calm and just watching you unintentionally grind down more on his arm the longer you’re forced to stay like that.

“I got my own.”

You nearly catch an attitude. Wanting to mention that it’s just ‘polite’. And for that matter, you’d not paired for a single drink all night. So, naturally it was only fair you go get them… You settle on saying something a bit more safe. Maybe more manageable even with how little your mouth wants to function.

“I didn’t pay.”

Ghost just snarls, head tilted and looming closer.

“I don’t fuckin’ care,” His hips flinch forwards, jamming against you to send the point home. And you’re not stupid enough to ignore that he’s hard. The long, thick line of his cock disappearing under the edge of his belt; tucked safely to have been able to escape the bar without anyone throwing looks his way.

“Stop doin’ shit just because.” He growls out a bit more directly. “Do it because you want it.”

His point skims over your understanding. “I do what I want!”

“Sure, sweetheart.” The dismissal is soft enough you know he’s not totally pissed.

“When’s the last time you made yourself feel good, huh?” He pauses, giving you a glimpse of his tongue licking his lips under that mask. “I think I remember you sayin’ you’ve faked it plenty of times… How many times is that? How many times you ignored that pussy cryin’ for attention?”

You get it. Oh, you finally understand… And damn it your face doesn’t burn hot with the realization that he’d caught on to just how bad you were about prioritizing yourself. Not even the dull, thudding pressure of your cunt sitting directly in his muscled forearm is enough to distract you from it. The mind game over, and Ghost holding yet another victory in his hand.

“I.. I don’t know,” You look away, unwilling to admit it. “A few times.”

“Bullshit,” He grunts, jerking his lower body against yours yet again. “You might not know that… but you do know how many men… don’t ya, sweetheart?”

Chest caving in defeat, you answer. “Five.”

Ghost’s chuckle is almost patronizing. A deep, rumbling one low in his chest that makes chills run up your back. Purposefully his wrist rotates a bit and your clit rolls over a thick muscle. You’re helpless to hide the pinched yelp it earns him, and it only makes him chuckle for longer. If you’d been in any other position, it would’ve been music to your ears. Now it just felt… punishing. Arousing beyond belief, yes, but still a bit of a sting to your pride.

“Five boys…” He muses aloud. “Not a fuckin’ one with enough sense to breathe without thinkin’.”

He stills for a moment, eyebrows furrowing over dark brown eyes. A debate in his head.

“Then i’ll teach you…” He nods once. Firm and resolved to the decision. His free hand coming up to trace your jawline with a reverent, almost scared touch. “Now that you’re mine… I’ll teach you how to be selfish.”

“S’not like I don’t know how.” It’s a wonder you’re able to sound that confident between the pressure to your cunt and the way he’s talking to you. Unflinching as always, he just smirks under that mask.

“Gonna show you how easy it is… to take pleasure. How to enjoy it.” Each word falls from his lips like thick honey. Whatever he’s planning so fucking rich in his kind that even his mouth slows and his accent thickens at the mere imagination of it. “You’re gonna learn to be good for me… and M’gonna start with that little pussy…”

One dangerous look down at where your thighs are trying to clench together freezes you.

“Not gonna let her be ignored anymore…”

~

Ghost’s tongue curls through your swollen, sensitive, lips; helping guide himself to your pulsing clit. Humming victoriously when your stomach flexes and your body jerks away from the steady pressure. Each lick is the same. Dragging up your slit and purposely spitting against your hole until you both can feel it dripping between your cheeks. Taking his time like this was almost painful. Feeling the twitch of his jaw against your inner thighs and hearing his thick swallows as he drank down your arousal.

It almost made you feel queasy, being the sole focus of this. Your hands unable to find somewhere to rest. Feet unwilling to settle on his back or off to the sides, like you knew you probably should be. Ghost was so intense that you shook. Muscles tremoring around his head and exciting him that much more. You were still stiff though, and it showed. Much to his excitement, it meant that he’d have that much more time between your legs. More opportunities to take you out of your head and throw you into a totally new one.

“It ain’t my mouth makin’ you shake, little one.” He murmurs, almost like he’s talking to your cunt instead. It’s hard to reply when those dark brown eyes lay locked on you from between your slicked thighs.

“I… I don’t know…”

Ghost just chuckles, kissing your inner thigh. Both hands slipping between your legs and using his thumbs to spread you open for him. Heavy eyes looking at your glistening hole covered in his saliva. Spitting on you yet again, and letting out a deep, satisfied sigh when your breath evaporates from the sheer sight of it.

“M’gonna make you feel everythin’ they couldn’t,” your eyes nearly roll back in your skull when he blows a soft, cool, breath over your hot skin. “You’ll memorize what my tongue feels like in your cunt… never gonna come empty again…”

You clench when those words come out more like a threat than a promise. Having heard that tone so many times sitting in on his interrogations. Always relating it to pure torture and the promise of wishing for death over being rested in Ghost’s hands. Only now it was startling just how badly you wanted to hear him speak like that again. Never having heard anyone sound so fucking serious about sex, or find yourself reacting so desperately. Your eyes scrunching shut and your head falling back against the bed, nearly pained with anticipation and a healthy dose of the most fearful arousal you’d mustered.

“Ghost - please, please… just, god take it easy on me.” Your voice is soft, pleading. Actually a bit timid of how far he planned on taking this. Of course he wouldn’t hurt you. You trusted him that much. But pleasure could be just as effective of torture, and Ghost was well-versed.

Another kiss presses to your thigh, “Nothin’ without your permission,” Those dark eyes gain crinkled lines at the corners though as he smiles. “But you’ll like it, little one. Every disgustin’ thing m’gonna do to make this pussy cream…”

His thumb glides over your outer lips, toying with you. Gentle to avoid sensitive spots and draw this out, but mean enough to remind you just how dedicated he was.

“Yeah, baby… you’re gonna look so good when I lick the fuckin’ come out of you.”

His mouth descends over you without another moment of hesitation. Still slow, but now it’s not just his tongue lapping at you. It’s his lips, rough with a couple days neglected of shaving. His teeth -which make you jump at first- pinching and nipping. But it’s all in the perfect pressure. Somehow fully aware of how sensitive you are right now and that the slightest move could be far too much. Reversing your twitches of apprehension into soft rolls of your hips against his face. Allowing you to guide him without a word. Learning how you want it whether or not you ever realized that it was guiding him better than a map.

You loved the slow, consistent pressure around your clit. Not rubbing right over it like he was sure you’d been subjected to before. No… you needed it softer. Sweeter. Just how a pretty girl like you deserved. Circles with a flattened tongue and his fingers working inside you. Even then, you got so fucking tight when he didn’t pull his fingers out all the way. Instead letting you milk them as the pads of his fingers curled against that textured, upper wall needing attention.

God, it was so easy. You had such beautifully clear reactions. What felt good, you’d nearly hold still for. As if you’d never felt it before and couldn’t withhold from the desperate curiosity. And when it didn’t, such polite grinds and roll of your hips would be almost too helpful in moving the bridge of his nose or his tongue to where you wanted it.

Ghost couldn’t remember the last time he ate pussy with such rapt attention. Enjoy it had always been easy. The taste, the sounds, feeling in control… any man in his right mind would relish in it. But you? You made his hard cock brushing up against the mattress fall to a true afterthought. He didn’t even care that there was enough precum drooling from his tip to soak through denim jeans.

Your first orgasm is a beautiful accident. Ghost’s body isn’t even what earns it. It’s his fucking mouth saying the nastiest things imaginable with a busy tongue stroking your clit. Rambling low and sluggishly, a thick lisp when his bottom lip tries to slide across your pussy on the right syllables.

Good job, tha’s it… s’good for me.

Keep fuckin’ drippin’ like that.

Stay right there -just like that- let me lick her clean baby…

You come quick and hard. Not even getting to relish in the feeling of release that wasn’t by your own hand before Ghost is working for another. It’s the most impatient habit he’s got and won’t deviate. Using the clench of your pussy around him to advantage by working you open all over again. Purposefully providing that “first touch” stretch throughout orgasms like a reset. Short term memory erasure of all his hard work just to massage at your shaking legs as gentle reassurance.

“Don’t — Don’t stop.” Your panting. Wanting to warn him as the second approaches a bit slower.

You’re still nervous to perform, but the edge is off. Having been given just enough reassurance that you can, in fact, come from someone else’s touch. But the slight tremor in your voice hints at the hesitation you have to come again.

Enough time elapsed to overthink what you sound like. How you appear from this angle and anything in between that has been a problem before now. Ghost doesn’t move an inch. The only thing he does is take a steady deep breath and move one arm to rest his forearm on the bed. Like he’s settling in.

Getting fucking comfortable.

And he stays just like that until you’re shoving yourself up the bed and away from his chasing mouth to try and take at least one complete breath. Your feet sliding in the sheets and the hair on the back of your neck getting cold once it’s not matted to the pillow. Previous experience anticipates that it’s the end. That Ghost isn’t going to follow. That he’ll take the credit for making you come twice, and enjoy a fluttering, wet cunt around his cock.

His face is next to yours and his swollen lips are kissing your temple over and over sweetly. One hand keeps his heavy weight off of you while the other gently reaches to your neck. Holding your head to ease the acute angle of it and shyly feel your pulse. You’re too dazed to see the look on his face. How relaxed he is, counting your heart beats and watching sweat slide across your temple and get caught in the baby hairs there. Observant, but utterly obsessed by this moment. Drinking in self-satisfaction and the much more addictive taste of seeing you fall apart under him.

“I got you. I’m here, breathe baby.” Keeping his chest close, he exaggerates his own. Pressing against you, grounding the feeling.

“It’s so much.” Admitting it makes you feel awful. Like you’re not enjoying it more than anything you’ve felt before. But you’re unable to explain just how raw your nerves feel. Terrified that if he touches your clit again it would bring real tears to your eyes.

Ghost moves closer, sharing body heat you didn’t know you even wanted. “I know, little one… you’re so sensitive. S’okay.” He answers, gently reaching down to pull both your thighs together and against him.

Curling you to his body and holding your legs to help ease the radiating pleasure signals thrumming in your pussy. His hand rubbing your outer thigh, squeezing at the stretched muscles in your hip. Dissipating the tightly-wound lower half of your body that is still expecting his fingers to touch you again. Split between wishing he would force another orgasm out of you and nearly passing out from overstimulation.

Ghost knows better though. You’d gone too long without someone else controlling your pleasure that it was going to be hard enough. And a second only compounded your body’s response. In the moment he felt possessed to prove a point. Really, the same one you had for him. But the moment you scurried back, that part of his brain turned off. Keeping you safe in this state was just as important as anything else. He didn’t want you faking anything again. That included when you felt like you couldn’t take more.

“We’re done, baby…” he kisses your cheek, tasting the sting of salt on his lips. “No more; jus’ easy touches… M’not gonna play anymore.”

It works wonders, simply taking the guesswork out of this. Allowing your legs to fully sag against him, trusting those fingers grazing up and down. Even your head letting go of the remaining tension holding you off the pillow. Ghost can’t help but smile. Kissing you yet again. And again. Helping himself to the sounds of your breaths evening out and the softness of your dewy skin on his mouth.

His hot body sticks to yours a bit, but it’s comfortable. Helps you feel secure, laying there balled up and trying to work through the multiple sensations still making it nearly impossible to open you eyes and look at him. Desiring to say a simple ‘thank you’ or at least, give him a smile just to show that you’re appreciative. Another one of those nasty little things you’re convinced is necessary right after the deed. Poised to give positive reinforcement at the first moment so the guy won’t run off.

“Th-thank you,” The way you say it almost sounds guilty to Ghost. Even the hand rubbing you doubles down, more firmly. Like he’s hoping to keep his own emotions in check by reminding himself of how skewed your perceptions are.

“S’not a ‘thank you’,” He replies, lips against your ear, feeling the easy, toothless, smile he’s got. “Told you the other day… I wanted it. Wanted you.”

Your eyes do open then. Hearing him refer back to the mission. Like he’s not the least bit affected by it in an embarrassed kind of way. Adding that much more reinforcement to the nearly unbelievable idea that he’s actually meant it and not just so he could get a bit closer to you. Surely he couldn’t, right?

“You mean that?”

Ghost’s eyes brighten, and he chuckles very deeply. Bumping his forehead against yours.

“You and your sweet pussy aren’t going anywhere.”

requests are thanks to: bvxygriimes bobochacha kmcmpmd simonsslvt verynastyspoon featherbrainedangel flower-olive riri-is-a-girlie bii-aan-ckaa mxshpitmom stormy-knight134 glocuseguardian3rd variety-fangirl and about eight anons that I can't tag unfortunately :(

you're all so lovely and I want to give you each a big smooch

reblogs and comments are always appreciated <3

my ask box is always open, but fair warning I'm slow haha

[ageingfangirl2]

Are You Flirting With Me? Sanji x Reader (OPLA)

Sanji is a known flirt around all women, but y/n isn't sure if he's flirting with her or not and they confront them. Sanji x Female Reader

Y/N

Sanji was a very confusing man. He was a shameless flirt and ladies' man, fawning over every girl who crossed his path. Nami said he was all over her when they first went to The Baratie and had continued his ways since joining the crew. But when you joined the crew after they beat Arlong Sanji was odd, initially flirting and complimenting you, but after a couple of months, he seemingly stopped but continued with Nami and the other girls.

It didn't bother you at first, it was a nice break. You didn't have body issues, in fact, you liked how you looked and took care of your image, and before you left your island to join Luffy you'd been proposed to twice. But now when you look in a mirror you start to notice small flaws in your appearance. You hated what you were becoming, you had to get off the ship and away from the blonde cook for a bit.

With one last look in the small mirror by your hammock you throw it against the wall and watch it smash into tiny pieces on the floor, 'stupid cook,' you hiss.

Grabbing your jacket you leave the sleeping quarters and head back up onto deck.

'Y\N DINNERS READY!' Usopp calls out from the deck above.

You wave him off, 'I'm not hungry, I'm going to head into town for a bit.'

Before Usopp can say anything you're already walking down the gangplank.

SANJI

'Where's y/n?' Nami asks as Usopp comes back into the kitchen frowining.

I finish plating up y/n's food and put it down in their usual spot next to mine.

'She said she wasn't hungry and was going into town, looked upset,' Usopp answers.

Nami slams her hands down on the table, 'WHICH ONE OF YOU UPSET Y/N?'

The four of us share looks at one another, trying to figure out the answer, but no one comes forward to admit to doing anything wrong. It couldn't possibly be me because y/n and I had developed a close bond, the only girl seemingly immune to my flirting but still played along and gave me compliments when the rest of the crew wouldn't. Maybe I'd check on them after dinner.

TIME SKIP

There weren't many places to go in this town and I found y/n in the first tavern nursing what looked to be their third beer.

'What's a girl like you doing in a place like this?' I joke, and sit down next to them.

y/n doesn't even look at me as they reply, 'Are you...flirting with me?'

'Gods no! What gave you that idea?' I say, a little shocked.

y/n shrugs their shoulders, '...I mean...have you heard yourself talk around girls?'

I order a beer and bump my shoulder with y/n's, 'I've been told, look at you y/n, even with my flirting you looked past that and actually wanted to get to know me.'

y/n's head snaps in my direction their eyes wide, 'so that's why you stopped? You don't think I'm ugly.'

I shake my head, 'You're beautiful y/n. Wait is this why you're upset?'

y/n nods and faceplants the bar top grumbling. After a minute or two y/n explains how they thought they were ugly because I stopped flirting with them while continuing to do it with Nami and other girls around them. y/n was embarrassed, but I had to admit I was also in the wrong for not noticing my actions around them.

'I'm sorry Sanji,' y/n mutters.

I smile and throw an arm around their shoulder, 'I'm sorry to y/n. Trust me you're not ugly, because whenever we dock somewhere the guys and I have to keep guys away from you. Now I managed to save you a plate before Luffy could eat it if you're still hungry.'

y/n leans into me and smiles, 'You are the best cook I know. Thank you for coming after me Sanji, it means a lot.'

The two of us finish our drinks and leave the tavern, y/n holding onto me as they stumble having drunk on an empty stomach.

'On a scale of one to ten, you're a nine, and I'm the one you need,' I say seriously, but wiggle my eyebrows at them.

y/n bursts into laughter, 'Never change Sanji.'

From now on I would try and find the right balance because I never wanted to lose y/n.

[aurumacadicus]

69 🫡🫡🫡

There were eight 69's in my inbox I just want you all to know.

--

"Hey, um, so, hello," someone said, voice cracking.

Steve blinked slowly, not quite understanding. He'd heard that tone of voice before, but never directed at him. Normally Thor, or Bucky, or even Natasha, when she was wearing a tank-top that showed off her arms. Someone seeking help, needing muscle. Steve was scrappy, but he also wasn't the first person anyone ever turned to for help. He turned, raising his eyebrows in surprise.

The man who had sidled up to him was wearing clothes way too nice for the bar Steve and his friends called home base. As he watched, the man shifted, and he saw a peek of a red sole on the bottom of his shoe. His watch looked expensive, too. He bet the guy's buttons were more expensive than some of the liquor behind the bar.

"Hello," Steve answered belatedly.

"I'm gonna be frank with you," the man said, glancing nervously over his shoulder. "My ex is following me. I have a restraining order and the police are on the way but. You know. New York. So. Just pretend to be my date? Please? So I don't look like I'm wandering around helplessly. I need to look like I came here on purpose."

"Okay," Steve answered, the novelty of the request sort of making everything else absorb slowly. Then the rest of what the man said hit him, and he straightened up from where he'd been slouching over his beer. "Restraining order?!"

"You said okay no take-backs," the man answered, eyes darting back and forth as if he was already choosing someone else to ask if Steve really said no. "I'm Tony. Can we hold hands? Or. Like. I can go. Is there a bathroom here? Is there a window in it?"

Tony was panicking, Steve realized. He was about to shake out of his skin. Whoever his ex was, he was really scared. And he should be, Steve figured belatedly. From what he'd been told, restraining orders could be hard to get.

He reached out, bypassing Tony's trembling hand to instead grab Tony's chin, gently forcing him to turn to face him. "I'm Steve," he offered kindly. "Hi, Tony."

Tony squeaked, cheeks taking on a pink tinge. "Hi," he managed, shuffling his feet awkwardly.

"Don't worry," Steve told him, trying to convey that no matter what, here, he'd be safe. If Steve couldn't protect him, his friends were here to take up for Tony instead. "I won't let anything happen to you."

Tony exhaled shakily. Steve took a moment to wonder if it was from relief or if it had anything to do with the shocked blush on his cheeks. Now probably wasn't the time to figure it out, he lamented, even as he stood from his stool to offer it to Tony and subtly waved over at Bucky and Clint by the dart board. They noticed, and Clint got Natasha's attention where she was talking with Maria and Sharon.

Good. Everyone was on alert.

Steve turned his attention back to Tony, giving him a kind smile. "So. Can't say I've ever been someone's first choice when it comes to choosing a fake boyfriend."

Tony swiveled his gaze away from the menu to blink at him, stunned. "Why? You're very cute."

It shocked a laugh out of Steve. "Yeah, but I don't look very strong," he offered.

"...I don't. Want him to go after you," Tony answered after a brief, uncomfortable pause. "He'll just feel sorry for you. That I'm your date. So."

Steve bit back the urge to grip his hands into fists. "...Hmm," he offered, instead of 'what the fuck' or 'lemme at him.' He patted the back of Tony's hand soothingly. "Well. If he says even one thing wrong, rest assured, my fists are up."

"Huh?" Tony asked, but Steve just patted his hand again.

[marvelouslizzie]

are you mine?

summary: You have been seeing Bucky Barnes for while. Actually seeing doesn't cover what you two are doing but you don't know what else to call it. You just didn't give the relationship a name, yet. One day, you get a voice message and a photo from your best friend which makes you think, Bucky Barnes, the man who you fell head over heels in love with is cheating on you. Jealousy takes over.

pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader 

word count: 5.1K

warnings: 18+ NSFW MINORS DNI, unlabeled relationship, misunderstandings, suspected of being cheated on (BUT THERE IS NO CHEATING), jealousy, feeling insecure, unintentionally hurting the person you love, mentions of roleplaying, adult language, pet names, dirty talk, light deep-throating, fingering, unprotected sex (don't do it in real life these two know each other), emotional assurance, no mention of y/n.

a/n:  This was a random idea I had and with the help of @notafunkiller and @es1dit, it turned into reality. I thank them for helping me through my writing journey, beta-reading, and even for the photos and the gif! You two are the best!

All work is mine, please do not repost or translate without my permission. Every like, comment and reblog is highly appreciated.

“Hey, girl.” Your friend's voice sounds different than usual. You wonder what’s wrong because she usually doesn’t send voice messages. “I really don’t know how to say this. I wanted to call you and explain everything, answer all your questions, but I have a meeting in five minutes.” You look at the time and see the voice message was sent more than ten minutes ago. “I thought texting is worse so I decided to go with a voice message.” She stops for a second to take a deep breath. “I really hate to be the one to tell you this. I really do. I hate to break your heart but if I were in your place, I’d like you to tell me. It’s better to know instead of getting fooled, right?” She sounds like she is trying to convince herself, not you and you can’t help but wonder what she is talking about. “Okay, here we go: I saw Bucky with a woman. They were hugging so I couldn’t see his face clearly at first. I thought the guy was just looking a lot like Bucky, so it made me stop. I thought how many guys should have this haircut? It turns out it was really Bucky. He was hugging her so tight, it was just confusing. Then after they broke the hug, she put her hand on his chest and I went ‘wait a minute, who is this redhead?’ I got my phone and right before I took the photo, he laughed so loudly. I couldn’t believe it! Bucky Barnes, the guy who gives everyone a death stare, was laughing with his whole body. I managed to take a good picture, but I could not see the face of that woman. The only thing I can say for sure is that she's a redhead. Oh, and she has an amazing body. Even from behind…” She stops for a bit when she realizes she’s praising her while telling you Bucky is cheating on you. “Sorry. I just can’t believe what I've just witnessed. I thought you should know. I’m sending the photo so you can see it with your own eyes. I’m sorry for dropping a bomb like this and running into a meeting. I promise you I will call you after I’m done with work and we will talk, alright?”

From the moment you first listened to this message, you couldn't think of anything else. You keep looking at the photo, zooming in on the woman countless times in hopes of magically figuring out who she is and how she managed to make him laugh that hard. You don't remember him mentioning meeting any woman today. Especially one that seems so close to you.

You also listen to the voice message over and over again, but nothing makes sense.

Is he... is he really seeing her behind my back? 

Your heart is beating so fast, you can’t focus on your thoughts or hear anything else. Breathing becomes so hard that you feel like you are drowning. I can’t do this anymore, I can’t. You hope taking deep breaths might help, but not even that helps. It actually makes you feel even worse. You just drop your body onto the couch and suddenly you notice you aren’t afraid or anxious like you initially thought. You are just… hurt. So hurt that the pain you are feeling is actually physical. You never felt this way ever in your life.

If Bucky Barnes pointed his gun right at your face now it would hurt you less. If he shot you without blinking once, it would hurt you less because you would know for sure that he is brainwashed and turned into the Winter Soldier by someone again. And he wouldn’t be hurting you on purpose. This… Whatever this is… feels like he’s hurting you on purpose and it's unbearable.

Now, you aren’t so sure of who he is. This guy, who is hugging someone else like that and laughing, who lets another woman touch her so freely like this can not be your Bucky. Or maybe he was never yours to begin with, who knows?

You have no idea how much time passed between the moment you got this message and Bucky arrived at your place. While you are drowning in your thoughts and feelings, he lets himself in.

“Hey, doll.” He sounds really happy, which is rare and mostly when he’s around you. Now you know you aren’t the reason for his happiness and it stings. He must have had a good day with that redhead. Whoever she is.

You look at him without saying a word. That’s when you see that he’s holding a big bouquet of flowers. Your favorites. God! He is really cheating on me. He felt guilty and bought flowers on his way here, you think. While growing up, you remember hearing something over and over again: When a man feels guilty because they're cheating, they start to treat their partners better. Bucky always treated you well and bought you flowers but you aren’t in a place to think clearly anymore. You just assume he’s cheating, therefore he got you flowers to feel better about it. It’s clear as day.

“Are you okay?” He sounds concerned already because he knows how you would normally act. Whenever he arrived at your place, you ran to him and gave him a huge hug. Sometimes you literally jumped in his arms and he lifted you up with no effort. He would just hold the flowers until you got down. In the rest of cases, you would give him a kiss, thank him for the flowers, and put them in your favorite vase. But right now all you do is glare at him, taking a deep breath before standing up.

Your knees already want to just give in and let you fall, but no, you aren’t gonna go down that easily. You are going to face him first and let things play out. If you are gonna fall on your knees, it’s gonna happen when you are alone and defeated, and you can cry yourself to sleep.

“I’m not.” 

“What’s wrong?” He just puts the flowers away.

“Are you cheating on me, James Barnes?” The question flies out from your lips easily. And you are surprised you managed to get it out without choking or crying. 

Bucky’s expression is hard to read at first. You have no idea what it means. Then it slowly changes into something you are familiar with: concern. Anytime he is even a little bit concerned, the lines between his brows become so visible… But this time, they don’t stay that way for long. Instead, you see a little smile creeping up his lips, and a wave of anger washes over you. Before you're able to say anything, he speaks.

“Since when we are in a relationship, darling?” 

Oh my fucking god! The audacity of this man! 

“Excuse me?”

“I asked you: since when are we in a relationship? I thought in order to cheat on someone you have to be in a relationship first, and I don’t remember us discussing the nature of our… friendship.” The bastard sounds so smug until the last part. Then he seemed unsure for a second like he was trying to find the right word. Friendship… That wasn’t the right one for your relationship. You were friends, of course, but the word doesn’t cover it all. You were also exclusive. Or, at least, that is what you thought until now.

“I guess…” You sniff. “I had the wrong impression…” You stop again to collect yourself. “About our… friendship.”

That’s when he notices the tears in your eyes, threatening to fall down any second, but you are holding yourself back. You don’t want to cry in front of him. You don’t want him to see how much he broke you. Instead of approving what you just said, Bucky closes the distance between you two. 

“Darling…” His tone has completely changed, that smugness vanishing completely. “Are you crying?” He tries to touch your face and probably wipe the tear away, but you don’t let him. With a quick step back, you put distance between you two while looking directly into his eyes.

“It’s none of your business.” The lines between his brows are back and they are deeper than ever. Confusion is written all over his face.

“Baby, I don’t understand what’s wrong. Please, talk to me.” He sounds completely broken now and you can’t believe how he could just change his emotions like that. Like there is a switch inside him and now he decided to act a bit more appropriately.

“I already told you, and your answer was clear enough.” The coldness of your voice creates a cold shower effect on him. 

“Wait…” It finally sinks in. “Do you really think I am cheating on you?”

You give him a dry humorless laugh. “You've just asked me since when we're in a relationship twice and technically said it wasn’t cheating.”

“I thought you were roleplaying.” He desperately tries to get closer to you, but you raise your hand to stop him. “I had no idea you were serious.”

“Roleplaying?” You can’t believe this man. “Do you really think I would accuse you of cheating for the sake of roleplaying, James?”

“Please, stop calling me James.” He knows you only do it when you are angry. That’s why he doesn’t like it. “I don’t know. I thought…” He tries to collect his thoughts. “I thought it was a bit weird, but I was like if that’s what she wants to do, I can give it a try.” You can't believe this man. Is he really clueless or does he try to deceive you?

“Are you fucking serious?”

“Darling… I don’t know why you think that, but I would never ever cheat on you. I can never…” He chokes on the words and you finally notice he might not be lying to you. He might not be deceiving, but what about that photo? What about that redhead who made him laugh so fucking hard?

“You told me we aren’t in a relationship, Bucky.” He notices this time you didn’t call him James and that’s a good sign. Small but important. That encourages him.

“I was acting my part. I thought that’s what you wanted. Baby…” He tries to move closer once again and this time you let him. He carefully holds your hands while looking into your eyes. “From the moment you said yes to me, I considered us as a couple. I know we did not talk about it and I can see it was a huge, huge mistake, but please believe that you are the only one for me.”

“You did?” You can’t help but ask. You need to hear him say it again. You wanna believe him so much, but there are so many questions on your mind, waiting to be asked and answered.

“Of course I did. You have no idea how much it hurts me to see you believe that I could cheat on you with another woman while my heart belongs to you. Not just my heart, I belong to you. Body and soul. I’m yours, darling. Please, believe me.” This… this sounds like your Bucky. The way he talks, the way he looks at you, the way he just looks so sad and broken. 

“I want to believe you, Bucky. I really do. I just can’t delete that photo from my mind. I can't stop thinking about it. That woman was touching you and you were laughing! You laugh so rarely, especially around others, and I– I just don’t know what to think anymore.”

“What photo?” He doesn’t sound defensive or blindsided, only confused. 

You quickly reach out for your phone and open the photo. As soon as you turn the screen towards him, his eyes focus on it for a second, and then he bursts into laughter.

“Why the fuck are you laughing?” Your voice comes out so defensive, but you don’t even realize.

“This is Natasha!” He looks at you. “Remember? I told you about her and how we have similar experiences.”

“That’s how you two actually bonded.” You repeat the words he once said to you. God! She is Natasha. Natasha Romanoff. The woman Bucky told you about so many times because he felt like he finally found a sister. The first person who made him feel like he isn’t alone in this world. He isn’t the only one who got tortured, turned into a killing machine, then managed to get out and start over. And you just got jealous of Natasha. God, you feel like an idiot.

“Yes, exactly!” He approves. “I told you like a week ago that Natasha will be in town and we will meet for a coffee. Remember?”

“Oh god…” You let out a loud groan, remembering exactly the moment he told you, but then so many things happened during the last week. You just… forgot and made an unnecessary scene. You accused him of cheating. If things were reversed, you'd be so hurt. So fucking hurt.

You feel your cheeks burning in shame.

“You even asked me if I wanted to meet her and I just said you go ahead and tell her about me first.” He approves with his eyes and small nods. “God, I am such an idiot!”

“No, you are not.” He quickly responds. “You haven’t met her yet and in the photo… her face isn’t visible.” Then he stops for a second as something comes to his mind. “Who sent you this photo?”

Oh, shit. 

“What makes you think someone sent it to me?” You don’t want to snitch on your friend, she was just trying to have your back. 

“Because if you were there, you wouldn’t just take a photo and leave. You would come and call me out. Someone sent you this photo.” He stops for a second again. “Alice sent this to you, didn’t she?”

You don’t say anything, but you look guilty without intending and it’s enough confirmation for him.

“Look, I am not mad at her. You can tell me that she sent you the photo.” Your eyes meet his while he keeps talking. “I’m glad your best friend has your back. I just wish you gave me the benefit of the doubt.” 

Oh. He sounds hurt again, even more than before.

“I’m sorry, Bucky.” You close the distance between you two completely. Your body is pressed against his and the warmth of him starts to calm you down. You just hope it will do the same to him. “She sent me a voice message and she sounded so… I don’t know… shaken. I couldn’t believe you could hug someone and laugh so hard with someone else. I couldn’t believe… that you would do this to me.”

“I understand that feeling, but I am just… hurt.”

“Can I make it better?” You ask immediately while reaching for his cheek. Your fingertips move towards his lips slowly. “Please, let me make it better.”

“What are you suggesting Ms. I doubt we have a relationship but I am gonna accuse you of cheating anyway?” 

You laugh because of that long-ass but rightfully deserved nickname. You should've talked about your relationship with him before anything like this happened. You should’ve given him the benefit of the doubt because he never made you doubt him before. Yet the jealousy you felt was so powerful. Actually, you can still feel it. That strong sensation is inside you, running through your veins, only getting calmed down by the loving words spilled from his lips. For the first time in your life, you notice what a jealous person you are. 

Instead of answering his question, you raise up on your toes and give him a kiss. Your intention is clear, but you don’t want to push him. If he needs a little time alone, he can end the kiss any second without feeling bad about it. That’s why you keep your kiss light and sweet, but in a couple of seconds, you realize that’s not what he wants.

He wraps his arms around your body and pulls you closer, then tilts his head just a little to deepen the kiss. That’s when you let a moan out for the first time. His tongue is moving so sweetly you get lost in the freaking kiss. While you are enjoying the taste of him, Bucky moves his metal hand toward your ass and grabs it a bit harshly, which instantly makes you gasp. Before you can do anything, he lifts you up with no effort. God, you love it when he does that. You quickly wrap your legs around his waist and enjoy feeling him this close to you. Despite still having your clothes on, you can feel the warmth radiating from his body. It just makes you feel safe. You wrap your arms around his neck and keep kissing him like your life depends on it. You are just glad he’s on the same page as you.

In a matter of seconds, you are on your bed waiting to find out what’s next. Usually, Bucky starts with getting you ready. That means either kisses, licks or sometimes when you are already very close to being ready, sucks. He gives you whatever you want, but this time it feels different. He moves away from you unexpectedly and takes off his shirt pretty quickly. Then he looks directly at you while his hands start to work on his belt.

“I've just realized…” He speaks while unbuckling. “I don’t think you deserve my attention yet.”

His words catch you off guard. He never said anything like this before. Deserving his attention? God… Those words make the blood rush in your veins.

“What can I do to deserve it again?” 

“Well, I can think of a couple of things.” He unzips himself suggestively and oh dear god… He wants you to do something you suggested before! This man… He can’t be real.

You move closer to the edge of the bed and stand on your knees. Before he can take his pants off, you move your hand inside his boxers and gently grab him.

“Something like this?”

He lets out a low moan before answering. “Something like this.”

You push his pants and boxers down, his already hard cock bouncing a little. God… You really want to do this. You can feel your mouth watering just at the thought of it. You take him in your hand, running your fingers all over it, getting mentally ready. He is already making such delicious sounds while you are doing the most basic things. You try to imagine how he'll react when he is deep inside your mouth.

You are excited about all the possibilities, but you still take your sweet time. The first step is moving your hand away and replacing it with your lips. You don’t take him inside your mouth or give him a lick. No, you are going to start really slow. Instead, you give him kisses all over. You avoid his hard cock for a while and focus on what’s around. Then your lips move to the place where he’s aching the most. While he’s expecting more kisses, you give him a big lick, which makes him moan loudly. Even though you've just started, you already feel like a winner.

You keep teasing him with your tongue for a while until you feel ready. You look up at him before taking him inside your mouth and he gives you one of those killer smiles.

“If you wanna stop, tap on my thighs, alright?” His tone is completely different: so soft and caring, which makes you wanna try this with him even more.

“I will.”

You take a deep breath before taking him. This isn’t the first time he’s inside your mouth. This isn’t the first time you are giving him a blowjob, either, but you never took him so deep and let him fuck your mouth. Giving away all the control you have is a little scary but also exciting. 

He lets you work at your own pace. You take him inside your mouth inch by inch, trying to relax and just not think much about it. Of course, that’s easier said than done, and triggering your gag reflex doesn’t take long. He takes a deep breath, trying to contain himself. His hands are already in your hair, just tangled between the strands without pulling.

“We don’t have to do this right now, you know…” He reminds you.

Hell no. You are the one who wanted to try this. You aren’t gonna give up that easily. You simply shake your head while your mouth is full and keep going. Taking another big breath through your nose and moving your head a bit more. A couple more inches of his hard cock disappear inside your mouth. That’s when you feel him touch the back of your throat. 

Holy shit! Your mouth is full of him!

You look up, feeling proud of yourself. You can see it in his eyes that he’s so fucking lost in the pleasure already. 

“Are you ready, doll?” The raspiness of his voice shoots strings of arousal down to your lower belly and you feel the wetness between your legs growing. You give him the confirmation with your eyes and he starts to move.

At first, it isn’t overwhelming as you imagined. It’s just a pressure you aren’t used to. You let him use your mouth however he wants, but notice that he’s still being careful. Yet the sounds he’s making just… drive you crazy. They turn you on even more and you can’t believe that’s actually possible. As he starts to move a little bit faster, getting lost because of the pleasure you feel the wetness growing even more. 

“God…” He’s louder than before. “This feels– amazing. It’s… it must be– a sin to– feel this good.”

Oh, how much you wanna reply, but your mouth is too occupied for that. Instead, you whine and moan. The vibrations of the sounds amplify his pleasure for a second.

“Fuck!” He’s losing the little control he has for sure. “Your fucking mouth!” He thrusts a little harder than before and you start to feel the tears building up in the corners of your eyes. “Wet.” He trusts. “Hot.” Another thrust follows. “And mine.” 

Just like that, you feel his come shooting down to your throat with a loud moan that fills you with the feeling of victory. He slowly takes himself out of your mouth and you notice how his cock is covered with thick spit. While you are trying to go back to normal, he is breathing loudly. So loud that it's all you can hear.

“That was…” He tries to speak, but his voice gives out in the middle of the sentence.

God damn, I made a super soldier lose his cool.

This isn’t the first time you did it, but it’s the first time it’s this visible. 

“Good? Great? Amazing?” You play a bit arrogant thinking you deserve it.

“Earth-shattering.”

The voice in your mind instantly goes: Fuck yes!

“Does it mean I deserve your attention now?” You keep your tone as innocent as possible like you aren’t talking about sex at all.

“Definitely. Lay back.” 

You love when he gets all demanding for the sake of your pleasure. You do as he says and watch him climb on top of the bed and take off your pants. He drops them without care and his middle finger finds its way between your folds over the underwear.

“Oh, poor thing.” The teasing is so fucking obvious in his voice. “You are drenched. Do you need a hand?” This time his palm slowly brushes down and god… you never needed to feel a hand so badly as you do right now. As you nod, he continues. “Let me show you how you are the only one for me then.”

He grips your underwear on both sides and suddenly takes it off. Your wetness is even more apparent now as he moves his middle finger between the folds again. It feels so damn good even without him touching your clit, but he does. He touches it so lightly, his fingertip only brushing, bringing all the wetness up so he can make you scream. You let out a deep moan, pushing yourself against his finger.

“So impatient, aren’t you?”

“I am.” you don't feel any shame. This is the man you love and you want all the pleasure he can give you.

“Since you are so honest… I won’t let you wait.” He pushes a finger inside you as he is talking and you gasp loudly in return. He moves it inside and out a couple of times before he adds the second one. “You are so fucking wet for me. You don’t even need stretching at all.”

You make an approving sound. You really would love to have his cock inside you right now but you know how talented he is with his hands. You can already feel the approaching orgasm and you desperately need it.

“I love it when you are so open like this.” He pushes his fingers a little bit harder than before. “Tell me…” He dramatically pauses for a second. “Do you want the third finger?”

“Yes!” Your answer is instant. “Please.”

“You wanna come already?” You nod eagerly. “Alright, darling.” He pushes the third finger inside, all three brushing that extra sensitive spot now, making you see stars. You don’t even notice how you lose control. He listens to your panting and moans and lets you beg for more knowing damn well all you need is him keeping up the same pace and he’s right. In a matter of seconds, you feel the pleasure explode inside you. It takes you in, makes you swim over the clouds, and then relief washes all over you. 

Bucky gradually slows down while letting you ride your orgasm until the last second. You take a couple of deep breaths and then look at his pretty face as he glances back at you with the warmest smile. Then your eyes drop down and you see he’s hard again. It doesn’t surprise you anymore like it used to. It’s one of the biggest benefits of the super soldier serum: having the best recovery time ever. His hardness waters your mouth again, but you know that it’s time for something else. You gotta do something about that wetness between your legs. Your mouth can wait.

Finally, you rise to your knees again and move on top of him. 

“My little doll wants more.” He places his hands around your body, moving them slowly as he talks. “What do you want darling? You wanna ride me?”

God, the way he speaks does things to you. Over the course of the flirting phase with him, you discovered that shameless part of yourself and you don’t care anymore. You don’t care if you are being too open. You don’t feel shy to accept that you want to ride him because you know he’s there to give it to you. Whatever you want.

“Yes.” You push his chest a little knowing them well you can’t do anything unless he lets you. And he always lets you. He falls on his back voluntarily. “Just enjoy the show.”

“Oh, I will.” He smirks and puts both of his hands behind his back, getting comfortable.

“No, no, no.” You reach for his hands and bring them to your breasts. “I want you to touch me.”

“Gladly.” He squeezes both of them before you move up a little. You open up a bit of space between you two, grabbing his cock and aligning it to your entrance, and with one swift movement he’s balls deep inside you.

“Fuck–ing hell.”

All you can do is moan as you feel so deliciously full and stretched even without moving at all. Your hands are on his chest, trying to support yourself while getting used to the feeling of him inside you. 

“Move, darling.” He sounds so impatient, so wrecked, so needy.

After a couple of breaths, you start to move slowly with your hands still on his chest, helping yourself keep the slow pace you are building. It feels so good, so fucking good to be on top. Not only do you feel full of him, but you are also fully in control. He’s a big strong man, much more stronger than any other and yet he just lays down and lets you do whatever you want to him. You wanna ride him? You can. You wanna torture him? You can. The power you have over him makes you feel invincible. 

His hands are all over you: massaging your nipples, caressing your tummy and grabbing your waist. When you start to move a little bit faster, his hands settle on your ass, trying to help you very subtly. It may be subtle for him but it makes a huge difference for you as he starts to hit the right spot inside you. You feel it and he definitely feels it because he makes sure to do it over and over again. Both of you are shaken because of the pleasure such a small change creates. Your moans get louder while he’s taking sharp breaths to hold himself back.

“I’m– I’m gonna–”

“I know, baby.” Your answer is quick because you can clearly see how the veins on his neck are extra visible and how his eyes are rolling back in pleasure. He doesn’t have to say it. You already know. “Me too.” 

That’s all the confirmation he needs as you gear up. When the first wave of your orgasm hits, he stops holding back. Instead, he starts to thrust back while you're still moving. 

“Fuc– Bucky!” The words slip out without intending. It feels so fucking good.

“Keep going! Keep going!” He instructs while thrusting inside you. In a matter of seconds, you are both moaning loudly.

“Oh, fuck!” He curses before he starts to spill inside you. He keeps going, just to prolong your orgasm, and what an orgasm it is! As you hold on to him, you feel breathless. He watches you as you get down from that high, tired but looking blissed out.

“You are so fucking pretty.” He closes the distance between you two and gives you a messy, sloppy kiss. “And you are mine. All mine.” 

“And are you?” You ask while still breathing heavily. “Are you mine?”

“All yours, darling. As long as you want me.”

[seresinhangmanjake]

Daddy Knows Best

Dad!Jake “Hangman” Seresin x female reader

Summary: Jake is very much against having his daughter in daycare, but his baby saying her first word might just make it a little better. (sorry to those of you who read the title and thought this would be smut 😁)

Notes: Suggested by a couple of people. / Part of the Oh, Baby Universe.

**This is a jump forward; Eve is nine months old. It's not the next part in the main series or anything. There's technically still a lot more to happen there first before the events of this fic. It's just a little add on**

Warnings: none, I think. 

Words: 1200

---

Jake hated dropping his little girl off at daycare. Hated. It. But after you went back to work at the bar four days a week, there’d been no other choice. The schedules didn’t allow it. For those four days, you got home at three a.m. and he was up at the crack of dawn. He got done with work at four, and you were off for your shift at six. It was complicated. It required some difficult rearranging of the perfect system you’d developed during the first months of your little family coming together. 

But Jake could accept that part. He could accept that Eve was getting a bit older and you wanted to go back to work. You wanted your independence and asked for Jake's support and he gave it. The daycare element, though, despite you mentioning it in the past, was the one piece he still struggled with. He couldn’t stand leaving Eve to mingle with germy rugrats and strange adults. In a room full of toddlers whining for attention, it was impossible for his daughter to be a priority to the women who worked at the center, and as far as Jake was concerned, that was unacceptable. He’d never speak it aloud, but his girl was the princess among those tiny commoners, and that was that. How you had no issue with letting her in such an environment he refused to understand.

Every morning it was a debate in his head as he took Eve from her car seat and walked her to the door of the daycare. Should he take her and run back to his truck? Decide to introduce the concept of ‘bring your daughter to work day’ to his superiors and team? He created a lot of possibilities, but then he’d remember that you would arrive to pick her up at two and he'd face an inevitable scolding if you found out she was never dropped off. 

He really didn’t want to upset you. You didn’t let him so much as kiss you when you were irritated with him and that was not his idea of a good time. But even having that motivation in the back of his mind didn’t ease the pain of letting Eve go. If she would just give him a sign, something to prove she wanted to stay with him that he could relay back to you, he’d feel significantly better when arguing his case.

But no such luck. 

—

"Baby girl, you don't want to go to daycare, do you?" 

Jake shook his head in answer for his daughter. He didn't care that she didn't understand him—that she could only stare up at him with her big green eyes—he knew what was best for her and daycare wasn't it. Plain and simple. He had no alternative solution to present, but he figured that was a problem best saved for later. 

"No, you don't," he continued as he carried her through the front door of the building. "You want to stay with Daddy. I've told your Mama but she refuses to listen. And I love her, baby girl, you know I do, but she can be so stubborn."

Walking down the cream-colored hallway toward the third door on the left, Jake heard the noises of small children babbling. But they were quickly drowned out by a shrill shriek of excitement once he stepped into the room.

"There's our favorite girl!" the source of the ear-splitting sound said.

Jake frowned. Eve was his girl. His and yours. 

She cuddled closer to him as a young woman jogged over and reached out to try to pull the girl from his arms. When Eve made no move to wiggle free from her father, the woman made a pretend face of disappointment. 

She put her hands on her hips. "Now, Evie—"

Evie? Jake's brow furrowed. When the fuck did his daughter's name change?

"Don't you want to play with your friends?"

Jake glanced at Eve. Like the many similar features of their faces, they shared matching frowns, hers just a tad more pouty from the fuller lips you'd passed down.

"Someone's a bit grumpy this morning," the woman teased, poking at the girl's little arm. "Did we not get a good night's sleep?"

"She slept just fine," Jake said.

The woman looked up at him and blushed under his stony stare. 

"Of course," she replied, bubbly nature still intact. "Well, we're going to have a fun day together, sweetheart." Her hands reached towards him again. "Ready?"

Eve's eyes peered up at Jake and he sighed, shoulders sagging. "Alright, baby girl. Daddy's gotta go now."

She made a little noise that he swore was in protest, but he handed her over nonetheless. Each day he approached it like ripping off a band-aid—an industrial strength band-aid. Quick and, well…extremely painful. But even after months, it was the only way he knew how to do it. 

Reluctantly, Jake gave a wave and turned for the exit. 

"Say goodbye to Dada," he heard. 

Then, "Da–Da."

He stopped in his tracks, bracing himself with a hand on the frame of the door. 

"Oh, how sweet!" the woman squealed as Jake whipped around.

He paused for a moment, replaying in his head what he thought he heard, but when he decided he wasn't in need of a hearing check, he chuckled and walked back over. 

"Ok, give her back," he ordered despite the smile on his face.

"Wha–"

Eve was pulled away and returned to her father's arms before the woman could finish. 

"What did you just say? Did you say Daddy?" He asked as he bounced her once on his hip.

"Da–Da," she repeated, clear and loud and completely unmistakable in her beautiful little voice.

"Oh my god." He kissed her on her forehead and ran his knuckle down her plush cheek. "You are so perfect, baby girl. Do you want to stay with me?"

Out of the corner of his eye, Jake could see the woman start to fidget where she stood. "Um, Mr. Seresin, your wife said that if Eve isn't in daycare to call her. Should we—"

"I'll take care of it," he said, refusing to take his eyes off his daughter. "Have a good day."

He hurried out of the building to his truck and strapped Eve in her car seat. She stared up at him as he worked on cinching the belt just right. 

"Don't look at me like that, baby girl. Mama will forgive Daddy…I think," he said. "Either way, she's going to be so proud of you when we tell her."

He hopped in the front seat and as he started up the truck, he was hit with the realization that, one, he was about to wake his very exhausted wife, and two, he was still expected to work for a living.

"Daddy's gonna have to come up with an excuse to miss work today, too," he mumbled to himself and shifted the gear in reverse. "That'll be fun." 

But he didn’t care. He had to tell you what happened, and there was no way he was taking his baby girl back to daycare.

[strawburry01]

We're Going to Be Friends

Summary: How Y/N and Aaron first start talking during their time in college (Aaron shouldn't be let into a lab)(also yeah, listen to the song when you read if you want)

Word Count: 2k

Authors Note: I don't think anyone really noticed but I'm sorry this took a second longer than normal to get out. I just had a really weirdly abrupt and messy break up (?) and when I usually write I've just been sleeping but we are doing better now that that's been resolved but like- guys what the fuck? Anyway, this was nice to write to kinda get out of my head. Cheers xoxo

It was your first day in the forensics chemistry lab after waiting two years to even be let into the lab space. You held your bound lab notebook to your chest as you walked in alongside the rest of the class and took your places at the lab benches, silently picking your lab partners. You were with a wiry girl with big blonde curly hair and thick-rimmed glasses. Hey at least she looked smart- it meant you wouldn’t have to carry the two of you to an A grade. As the class waited for the professor to come in you couldn’t help but overhear the laughter from across the classroom. Your head looked up to the source of the noise only to see the grinning Aaron Hotchner looking at his lab partner. Aaron and you had been in many of the same classes but had never really interacted beyond the polite head nod when bumping into each other. Sure there was nothing wrong with him, in fact, there was a lot that was right with him. He was handsome, in a bit of a nerdy Clark Kent sort of way, always looking like he rolled out of bed effortlessly and threw him glasses on before running to class. He was also fairly nice when it came to the general population. The Criminal Justice pathway in uni was highly competitive so it often meant everyone was insanely cutthroat, but he was always offering hints and help to others you’d notice. He was smart, very smart, but was very humble about it, in a way that only someone watching him could really realize how much he knew, and unfortunately, you did. Not even purposefully, but your eyes always had a way of falling onto the back of his head in class. Perhaps it was because he was the most attractive man in the cohort, or perhaps it was because you were just so intrigued at his charm. 

The lab started and you were drawn from your thoughts as you tied your hair back and slipped on the snug safety goggles, glad that they even made everyone, even him, look a little bit dorkier. You and your lab partner (who you found out went by Jen), started setting up the titration and you pulled out your lab notebook to start writing the results down. The two of you small-talked about classes and movies as she slowly let the base solution drip into the acid, waiting for it to eventually turn pink. After running through a round you two switched positions and you leaned over as you tried to line up the new beaker under the buret. 

Swiftly there was a new figure besides you. At first you assumed it was the professor, about to harass you about some incorrect technique or form, but you were surprised to see it was Aaron. He grinned as he looked down at you, and you suddenly felt very self conscious about leaning over so far in front of the buret. You quickly snapped up, standing straight, focusing on the buret with a reddening face.

“You’re Y/N right?” he asked. How he knew your name was beyond you, you’d never really talked to him before beyond a few yes or no’s. 

“Yeah,” you answered, trying to maintain a calm demeanor, still intently focusing on the meniscus in the buret.

“Do you know where the sodium hydroxide is? I need some more,” he asked. 

“Um, it’s just over there, you should just have to pipette it into your beaker,” you said, pointing to the dark brown container kept under the chemistry hood. His mouth formed an ‘o’ as he slowly nodded looking over.

“I see, thank you!” he said in a chipper demeanor as he walked over. 

“What the hell was that about?” Jen asked, jumping onto anything other than the mundane topics. Your face reddened again as you didn’t even know what the hell that was about. 

“What do you mean?” you asked, turning to face her, but before she could elaborate Aaron was back.

“Hey Y/N have you used one of those automatic pipettes before?” he asked sheepishly, holding a still empty beaker. You finally turned to face him and looked up. God he really was tall, or were you just short…nevermind that all.

“Have you not?” you asked, a bit shocked he’d gotten this far without having been subjected to one in high school or the general labs. He grinned again shrugged,

“Think you can help a poor guy out?”. You felt your stomach do a bit of a flip as you mumbled some sort of an agreement under your breath. He handed you the beaker once you were at the sodium hydroxide and you tried to explain the process and how to use the pipette. He made sure to make a dramatic show of nodding before you handed him back his beaker. You handed him back the beaker and stared at him a second before rolling your eyes,

“You know how to do this you little-” you started going off at him before he grinned mischievously,

“You do it so good though!” he exclaimed and nudged your arm which did shut you up, “You always just seem like you know what you’re doing,” he added. 

“I don’t know about- ah- thanks,” you mumbled as you looked around the room, trying to avoid eye contact, not knowing where any of this was coming from. Has he really been paying attention to you this whole time? He thought you were smart? He thought you knew what you were doing? Was he complimenting you? He laughed and walked back to his lab bench as you went back to yours and apologized to Jen.

“You still don’t know what that’s all about?” she laughed under her breath as she pointed her pencil at you. Going back to the buret you shook your head.

“Honest to god I didn’t even think he knew my name,” you said, with a small smile, “he just wanted me to do his damn work for him though,”. 

Another hour later once the lab was about halfway done your feet started hurting from standing for so long. You regretted not wearing better ones, but how were you supposed to know… As you were stretching your back and trying to get comfortable you made eye contact with Aaron from across the lab. The goofball had a thing of sodium hydroxide right next to him on his side of the lab this whole time. He never needed to come to your side. Instead of looking away he smiled and waved. You snorted to yourself and bit your bottom lip as you quickly waved back before looking back to your experiment. 

After the tortuous three hour lab was finally done you let down your hair and threw your lab goggles into your backpack, catching yourself in a mirror on the way out and realizing just how bad the marks left behind on your face were. 

“Raccoon eyes!” Jen laughed as she appeared by you in the mirror, finding herself in a similar situation.

“How the hell are we supposed to be taken seriously on campus like this?” you laughed as you tried to see if pulling on your skin helped at all, but much to your chagrin it did nothing.

“I mean they’ll just be jealous we get to do labs instead of just lecture all day,” Jen hummed as she waved goodbye. You smiled and waved back as you threw your backpack over your shoulder and moved to follow.

“Y/N!” Aaron yelled from behind you, getting you to look over your shoulder, “Look we’re twins,” he laughed as he pointed to his face, also having deep marks from the goggles around his glasses on his forehead and cheeks. You couldn’t help but laugh not only at his comment but also how absurd it was that he was now treating you like a close friend.

“I think we all learned our lesson today with the goggles,” you said as you started walking out, with him falling into step beside you. 

“You heard the professor: goggles on, risk gone,” he recited, doing an excellent impression of your professor which garnered another laugh from you. “Hey, so I’ve been meaning to ask you this for a while, but um, do you want to study together? You’ve always been getting the top grades in our classes and you don’t seem like a total nerd…” he said, trailing off as he tried to think of a way to finish the sentence.

“A total nerd?” you asked, faking shock at his accusation.

“See- you can take a joke,” he defended himself and holding his hands up, holding the door open for you with his hip, “I’m trying to get into the FBI, y’know, and I know I heard you are too, so I was thinking of proposing a sort of pact?” he continued to explain, glancing down to see your reaction. You met his eyes before quickly darting back down. It’s true, you did want to be a part of the FBI, as stupid a dream it sounded some days. At the beginning of the year one of your classes had you all go around and discuss what you wanted to do in the long-run, mostly just so then the professor could guilt you into remembering you saying that when students were struggling. 

“I’ll bite,” you say simply with a nod, “you’re really stand out in the psychology classes,” you added.

“And you’re a genius at the science stuff!” he said, turning to walk backwards in front of you, keeping his pace right ahead of yours as he talked facing you, “you’re seeing the vision!”. You couldn’t help but laugh again as you looked at him getting giddy.

“Okay okay, don’t trip,” you said as you pulled his wrist so he was back in step with you, both of you smiling like idiots at this point, knowing that this would be the start of a special friendship.

A/N yeah I'll stand by Aaron being a total college himbo (/endearing) and I'll probably write whatever big event causes him to get serious near the end of his time in college and turn into the daddy hotch we know and love.

[beautification-tales]

The Twig

This is the 3rd installment of “Getting Fit”

As Courtney stepped into the gym, she couldn't help but feel a sense of awe and intimidation. The loud music, the clanging of weights, and the bodybuilders grunting as they lifted impossibly heavy loads filled the air with a palpable energy. It was a far cry from the sterile, oppressive halls of her school, where she was constantly bullied. She had built up enough confidence to go to the gym. She was sick and tired of being pushed around and wanted to stand up for herself.

Courtney scowled as she had a flashback of yesterday. Britney had pushed her into a locker and called her a “twig”. Britney was the stereotypical blonde cheerleader that found joy in belittling Courtney for her tiny frame. Courtney fantasized about turning the tables and having the power to put Britney in her place.

“First time at the gym?” Courtney was jolted from her daydream as she realized a person was in front of her. She was a tall gorgeous woman with a svelte figure yet still amazingly toned. The light shone on her long brown hair as her blue leotard clinched to her body.

“Um hi…I was asking if this is your first time here?”

Courtney realized she had been staring and didn’t even answer her question. She gulped and finally answered her. “Yeah, I guess I give out that vibe.” She giggled nervously.

The woman smiled warmly and offered her hand. Courtney hesitantly shook it. “Well my name is Julie and trust me when I started here… I had the same lost look.” Courtney smiled back, feeling a bit more at ease. “I’m .. Courtney nice to meet you” she stammered. Julie continued, "Now, what brought you to the gym? Was it something specific you're hoping to achieve or just a general desire to get stronger?"

Courtney took a deep breath, hesitating before answering. "It's actually because I'm being bullied at school. The other day this girl pushed me into a locker and called me a 'twig.' It's been happening a lot and I just want to stand up for myself." Julie's expression turned serious as she listened.

"I'm sorry to hear that. Bullying is never okay. I've been there too, when I first started coming to the gym. I wanted to prove to myself, and to them, that I could change. And I did." Courtney nodded, feeling a spark of determination ignite within her. "Once you find your power Courtney its life changing trust me. How about you check in with our self defense teacher. She’s right over there.” Julie pointed at another woman who was currently doing squats with an amazing amount of weight on her shoulders. An attractive hunk of a man was behind her spotting her.

Courtney’s jaw opened wide as she looked in awe of the woman’s strength as she grunted lifting the weights. The man was cheering her on but was trying his best to cover his bulge in his workout shorts. “I remember when she first came to the gym too. She was a shy lost girl too but now look at her.” Julie said as she walked over to the woman at the squat rack. Courtney followed quietly as they approached the woman.

The woman turned around and flashed a smile at them. Her teeth were perfectly white and her eyes were a bright shade of blue. She had bright blue hair that caught the eye as well a few well placed tattoos. Courtney felt envy as she wanted a body like this woman possessed. “Hey Julie, did you find someone to join my class? I’ve been chomping at the bit to mentor someone.” The woman's voice was confident and firm. She toweled herself off as the man clearly bit his lip eyeing her backside. “Yes I did! Courtney meet Tara!” Julie introduced them.

Courtney nodded and extended her hand. Tara grinned, revealing a set of perfectly straight white teeth and accepted it. Her grip was surprisingly firm. "Nice to meet you, Courtney. Can I whip you into shape?” She winked. Courtney laughed nervously, feeling a blush creep up her cheeks. "I hope so."

“Well I’ll leave you ladies to it. Mark come help me with my cool down stretches please.” Julie sauntered away as Mark followed eagerly.

An hour later Courtney was sitting on the mat exhausted with her workout attire drenched. Tara came over and sat beside her, offering her a towel. Courtney smiled gratefully as she took it. "Thanks again for this Tara. I never thought I could do that."

Tara smiled back, her expression softening. "Can I tell you a secret Courtney? I was this overweight nobody when I first came in this gym. Julie told me her secret to success and now I want to trust you with it.” Courtney leaned in closer, her curiosity peaked. "The secret to our success is an experimental supplement ." Tara whispered. "It's this injection you take only once." Courtney's eyes widened in excitement. "Really? Can I try it?" Tara handed her a small vial with a clear liquid inside. "You can try it, but you have to promise me one thing." Courtney nodded eagerly. "Anything." Tara's expression turned serious. "You have to promise me that when you do reach your highest potential that you will pass it on to a girl in need too." Courtney hesitated for a moment before taking the vial.

Courtney looked at the vial on her table at home. She thought on how gullible she was to listen to Tara. It was like she was hypnotized by her beauty and strength but now away from the gym her common sense returned. The foreign supplement could easily be some sort of addictive drug that Tara was trying to get her hooked on. However, when she thought of how small she felt when Britney called her a “twig” she knew any risk would be worth changing her life.

She swallowed her doubts and injected the liquid into her arm. Nothing happened at first, but as the minutes passed, she felt a strange energy coursing through her veins. It was as if she could run a marathon without getting tired or lift weights that were too heavy for her. She felt unstoppable. It reached a point where it felt as if her heart would burst from her chest. The heat she felt in her veins burned yet felt exhilarating. As sweat flowed from her pores she felt her senses heightened as her vision became blurry. She removed her glasses and smiled when she realized her vision had corrected itself.

She looked at her arms as she felt them lengthen before her eyes. She sensed a similar sensation in her legs as she knew her diminutive stature was finally changing. She felt a warm sensation in her stomach that felt like butterflies but more intense. The feeling intensified to the point Courtney’s mouth opened as she let out a sound she never had before. Her now melodious voice sounded more mature than her previous nasal tone. She fell to her knees as the feeling continued. Courtney finally gave in as she realized the sensations were sexual in nature. Her face matured as her cheekbones raised and filled up as well as her lips. She bucked her hips as she leaned into the feeling as her moans got louder. Curves deepened as her ass expanded into a bubble butt of power. Her mosquito bites became oranges then melons as she placed her hands on them she felt her nipples stiffen as they overflowed her grasp. One hand slipped down and felt her wet sex as her waist burst to amazing proportions. “Yes…. Ungh fuck. I want it! I want power” Courtney gasped as her longer arms and legs filled out with elegant amazing feminine muscle. Abs formed on her abdomen as she grunted loudly as her body shivered in euphoria.

Courtney couldn’t sleep that night as she examined her body in her mirror for what seemed like hours. Her reflection showed a new her, a confident woman with curves in all the right places. Her skin glowed with health, her eyes sparkled with determination, and her voice was as smooth as silk. She had to admit, she felt incredible. But there was something else too, something deep down that her new power was hungry to do.

She found out what it was when she returned to school next day and found Britney flirting with Jack the Football quarterback by the bleachers.

Courtney filled with confidence in her revealing top and tight leggings decided to push Britney‘s buttons.

“Hey Jack, great game the other day.” She cooed as she sauntered over to them, her hips swaying seductively.

Britney's eyes narrowed in annoyance, but Jack didn't seem to mind the attention.

"Thanks," he said with a grin. "But do I know you?” Courtney smirked as she stood tall, her muscles flexing subtly.

"Oh, you haven't met me yet," she purred, making sure to stand close enough that Jack could feel her warmth. "But I think we're going to be really good friends." And with that, she placed a hand on his shoulder, letting her strength and confidence flow through her touch. Jack gulped as he adjusted his pants.

Britney's face turned red with anger, but there was nothing she could do or say. Courtney smiled as she walked away knowing Jack was staring at her ass. She felt powerful, confident, and in control. It was a feeling she never thought she'd have, but now she knew it was hers for the taking.

“Hey who the fuck do you think you are?” Britney screamed to her. Courtney turned around and raised an eyebrow. “Jack is my man, got it new girl?” Courtney chuckled. “ Good luck keeping him Britney, he is probably going to go home and stroke his cock thinking about all of this.” Courtney caressed her body flaunting it.

Britney’s red face exposed her rage as she wound up to hit Courtney. She was ready this time and blocked it with ease and grabbed Britney’s wrist and flung her to the ground. Britney felt the wind knocked out of her lungs as she winced in pain on the floor. “Wow, that was so easy too. Maybe you should be the one thinking about your place. You are so easy to push around like a little “twig.” I think I’m going to find Jack and show him what a real woman can do.” Courtney got wet belittling Britney. Tears began to fill Britney’s eyes as she realized she was the little one now.

“Well what happened next?” Tara and Julie asked Courtney as they worked out together. “Well I found Jack and asked for a ride home….then I rode him” the girls all laughed together. “Damn Courtney you’re bad!” Julie stated as she continued to stretch.

“Well I’m glad Britney learned her lesson but are you ready for your next lesson Courtney?” Tara asked. “Most definitely but telling that story just gets me soo.” Tara and Julie looked at each other and smiled. “Oooh Mark!” Tara called out. “Can you help Courtney with her warm up stretching? She’s really stiff.”

Mark stopped curling and looked at the 3 fitness models stretching On the mat as they smiled at him.

“Damn I love coming to the gym” he whispered.

[throneofsapphics]

chaos incarnate

Rowaelin x f!Reader

Summary: Day 25, “Really, poison again? Get more creative.”

Warnings: attempted murder, reader is unhinged 

A/N: this is honestly more of a crack fic, I've hurt myself enough

kinktober masterlist

You took a sip of the wine, wine you know is poisoned. They really are idiots, you can smell Oleander a mile away. You’d know, having micro-dosed on them since you were old enough to understand what ‘poison,’ meant, maybe even earlier. Then again, you were raised by a paranoid herbalist. 

“Oleander,” you purred - eyes on the man who’d poured your glass. “Really, poison again? Get more creative.” Everyone went still, every glass thunked back against the table. The entire room flew into chaos. 

Fenrys himself whisked you away, chuckling amusedly at the scene behind him. It was the first attempted assassination in several years - at least in Terrasen. Any poison at a table found its way to you. By your own machinations, of course, and this isn’t the first time you’ve done it. There would be hell to pay later, but for now the small bit of chaos pleased Temis, the Goddess who’d watched over you your entire life. 

“They’re going to be pissed,” he commented, a wry smile on his face. Sometimes he seemed to be the only one who understood. Exactly why you were that way. Others might think it’s a ‘noble,’ thing to do, but really you just liked the chaos it caused, and the bit of danger - the thrill of living on the edge. 

Of course, you didn’t have a ‘death sentence,’ you’d been raised like this - and knew your body could handle most poisons. Even if you still threw up for a few hours later. 

-

Pissed was an understatement, Rowan thought Aelin might actually start throwing things around the room. This hadn’t happened in years, at least in their court. Any time you visited other courts, you’d pulled the same trick. Switching drinks and plates with your magic, something he couldn’t figure out how to stop you from doing, not without a lack of trying. Of course, you didn’t actually drink or eat the poison each time - it depended on ‘how deadly it is’ according to you. 

He shoved a small antidote at you. Refusing your arguments on how it ‘reduces the tolerance,’ and threatening to shove it down your damn throat. You took it with a scowl, and he watched to make sure you swallowed every last drop. 

“When will you stop doing that?” He hissed at you. The fact that you didn’t look apologetic at all pissed him off even more. 

“When people stop trying to kill you,” you shrugged, your voice honeyed with false innocence. Never, then. 

“I don’t know if I want to kiss you or throttle you.” Aelin muttered. 

Rowan shot Aelin a look that said, ”don’t encourage her.”

“Sorry,” you answered, tracing a finger around her mouth. “Poison.” 

“Throttling it is,” Aelin mused - Rowan saw the mischievous gleam in her eyes, and so did you because you sprinted out of the room with Aelin chasing after you. He heard your combined laughter coming from the hall, and to his chagrin it soothed some of the anger inside him. 

[dearmayaki]

encouragement

( pair; keigo takami x introvert!worker!reader / golden retriever & black cat )

( short summary - you're a very quiet one, it piques his interest but he can't seem to find a way to be your friend )

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

Imagine being ranked as Japan's number two hero. Fans, left and right, paparazzi everywhere, everyone wanting to be your friend. Of course, it's a wealthy life as well. Keigo knows his way around - he's fast, charming and observant.

Which is why you had caught his eye.

He recently hired you and you worked in his agency for about a week, normally you'd be friends and chill with him by now - but you were still in your own bubble. Hawks could mind his business, but what's a bit of fun going to do? He's friends with everyone in his line of work so why not?

"Hey (L/n)!" He cheers approaching your figure, your station in the corner away from everyone else. "Hm?" You hum in acknowledgement turning to look up at the boss.

"Wanna go out with a few peers of mine? We could go during lunch break!" He took the empty office chair beside yours and plopped onto it, childishly spinning around for a moment.

You stare at him, deciding. He knows that look of yours, he may act foolish but his eyes are as clear as a hawk; you'd turn him down unless he does something about it.

"May I know the purpose of this outing..?" You finally spoke, in which Hawks responds with an enthusiastic thumbs up. "You know how important bonding with my co-workers is! Come on (L/n) it's been a week you're always working!" He whines a little spinning on the office chair.

"Bonding..?" He chuckles to himself when you tilted your head.

"Yes! You can invite your friends too ya know? The more the merrier!"

He says so hopefully, no offense though he knew you would decline. He doesn't know why, but he's determined to know about his workers' lives. Yes, every single one of them.

"I'm afraid I'll have to decline Sir, if the purpose of this outing is fun and bonding, I'd rather not-"

"Pretty please?" He pushes, hoping you'd accept his offer. You sighed seeing he puckered his lips. "Okay." He internally cheers with joy in response to your answer.

--------

"(L/n)? You actually came!" One of your co-workers bounces up and down happily on discovery of your arrival. Shes a clingy one, she ran over and hugged your side relieved by your presence.

"Sir Hawks persisted, he said it was important so I came." She only sighed, "Oh you silly fellow... Always professional and serious.. loosen up will you?" She nudges your shoulder playfully.

"I'll try." Everyone who came for the hangout sweat dropped. Thankfully and finally, Hawks arrives.

"Greetings my sweets!" The vermillion winged man carries a few bags, same with a few of his feathers. "I've bought some gifts for my favorite minions!" They all gasp with joy, ripping the stapled bags open and seeing all of their likes, favorites and other things that went along with their hobbies.

You didn't open yours immediately, not wanting to. But out of respect, you decided to do so.

"I'm sorry (L/n).. I didn't know what to get you.." he says, worriedly watching you look inside the gift bag and pull out a simple purse.

Surprisingly, it was your style and color palette, it even matched the outfit you wore right now.

"Thank you, it's beautiful." You flashed him a small smile, bending a bit to give a small bow to which he quickly stops you with his feathers. "Oh you doof! Stop being so formal you're making me embarrassed!" He playfully jokes to which the others snicker.

"Guys come on I'm hungry!" One of your co-workers whine, looping an arm around your shoulder and the other girl's. She laughs; "Calm your appetite! We don't want you eating our clothes!"

--------

This whole time, he was watching you.

He was observing how you'd react, how you'd respond and how you would compose yourself. Yes, he is studying you. Hawks rested his cheek on his hand, staring at you with a calm expression on his face.

The hangout was indeed a success, he learnt something small- or maybe major about you.

You like being praised, appreciated and shown affection to.

No- you don't like it- from how the corner of your lips reacted it seemed as if you love it.

Hawks noticed this when you were taken aback by their sudden display of appreciation. They were thanking you for your hard work, being a helpful hand even though you were new.

And one more important thing, you lean to their touch. Like a magnet.

He thinks to himself, you're touch starved - was the first conclusion in his mind. But he has to confirm that suspicion first before jumping into anymore conclusions.

--------

In the next day, you both stayed in late at the agency, working on a report. He definitely did not purposely wait to finish this one and act clueless so he decided to call for your help. "I'm sorry if I'm bothering you." Hawks whispers, hugging a random pillow he grabbed from the couch.

"No worries, I'm happy to help." His eyes narrow, a small smile crept on his face. 'So diligent.' ; a comforting silence engulfs the large office, just the sound of fingers tapping away on the keyboard along with the scratch of a pen's ink on a paper.

He decides to be bold - breaking the silence.

"If I'm being honest, I want to know you better." Hawks says, but you don't pause your work to look at him. You only glanced at him for a moment, "Elaborate?" His eyes narrowed -

"Not gonna lie, I always have the need to know about my workers' lives. How they act, their personalities, likes and dislikes.." he trails off his gaze landing unto the ceiling. "I can't seem to know what you like, other than being a perfectionist it seems." He jokes.

"I'm sorry, I just want to be a good worker." You set the laptop aside on the couch and turn to look at him, "But for your sake, I want you to stop. I don't want you to waste your time on me, I'm very boring." You bluntly state, your fingers playing with the purse he had gifted you.

"I don't believe you." He suddenly says, giving you a thumbs down. "Everyone is different - like their fingerprints, there's always something unique."

You fall silent.

"I don't know you as much- but I feel like you're yearning for something.." he vocalises his 'small' suspicion, squinting his eyes and pouting his lips a little, a finger on his chin.

"I'm not sure I know what you're talking about."

"You're an introvert okay- but somethings up. Just now with that little edgy quote of yours? I think there's something wrong." You only tilt your head out of confusion.

"It feels weird to hear the word boring when describing someone!" He ruffled his own hair.

"No offense Sir, you won't really notice when you're one of the beings on top of the world." You had him speechless for a moment, and finally it kicked in;

"Boss! I'm so sorry! I got carried awa-" he suddenly cuts you off - with a roaring laughter.

"Pfft! I didn't expect that from you!" He roughly nudged your side with his shoulder playfully with a cheeky smile. "But if we're being serious- I'm pretty sure no one here thinks you're boring when you're literally carrying the agency on your back?" He says with sass.

"I'm-" "-only doing my job. Right?" He giggles when the corner of your lips twitched. This time, it was just comfortable silence, you and him. He couldn't help but stare at you, taking in the way the moonlight emphasizes your features.

"I like to talk."

Hawks halted in his tracks, raising an eyebrow; "What? You wanted to know about me." He blinked, "Sorry- I just didn't expect that.." he awkwardly says.

"I just didn't have the right friends. That's all I'll give you." You finish, picking up your things on the coffee table and shoving them in your work bag, handling it roughly but when it came to the purse-

He observed the way you handle it with tender care, as if it was a glass ornament, wearing it carefully but swiftly.

"I will be taking my leave, I've already completed the report." You bow lightly before stepping out the door, not looking back.

Now it was just Hawks; and Keigo Takami. You're a puzzle, but he was a mystery. With A sharp intellect like his, he can break you down easily.

You didn't seem to be boring, his intuition is sharp, accurate and clear. You might have not had the support you needed all those years ago- when you were young. But he's ready to make you open up, and maybe even teach you how to love again, to let someone into your heart again.

( : : imma be real with y'all I kinda do not like this one )

[jenniferjareauwife]

r is a new recruit at the bau and is also jj’s ex. the two are super awkward and tense around each other until forced to share a room due to limited room, where feelings are finally confessed

I Still Love You

pairing: jennifer jareau x fem reader

category: angst, fluff

warnings: none

word count: 884

summary: you join the bau and realize that your ex that you're still not over also works there

I walked through the doors of the BAU with a nervous smile on my face. It was my first day and I wanted to make a good impression. I was supposed to be taking over the media liaison job for someone so now I just had to go and figure out who that was. I looked around until I saw a friendly looking blonde woman. "Hey! I'm uh, I'm new here, I'm the new media liaison I was wondering if you could point me to where I'm supposed to go."

"Of course!" She said enthusiastically. "I'm Penelope Garcia by the way, most people just call me Garcia."

"I'm y/n y/l/n." I reached out to shake her hand but she just pulled me into a hug. Oh. So that's how they do things around here, maybe I didn't have to be nervous.

"JJ is waiting for you in there to train you a bit." My heart stopped. JJ? I looked inside the office and there she was. Jennifer Jareau. I couldn't speak.

"Is something wrong?" JJ asked with a bit of attitude once Garcia left.

"No I uh, I just didn't realize that you worked here is all." I put down my small box of things on the desk and tried to avoid her gaze.

"Yeah well I do. So get used to seeing me." I gave her a small nod and started unpacking my things. "You still wear the ring?" She asked quietly after a few moments. I looked down at my left hand and saw that I was wearing the promise ring she had gotten me six months ago when we were still happy and together.

"Yeah I...I do." I wasn't going to take it off in front of her, I didn't want to give her the satisfaction.

"Oh." That was the only thing she said before she actually started showing me how the job worked.

Three weeks had passed and it was awkward. It honestly just hurt. Someone I used to know so well is now basically a stranger and I want to know her again. I still loved her. She was a profiler now there's no way she didn't know it.

I took a deep breath and dried my tears off in the bathroom. It had been 4 months, she had moved on, and I was going to have to live with being in love with her and seeing her not even give a shit about me. I let out a choked sob and covered my mouth, my heart stopping when I heard the door open.

"Hey." It was JJ, I could recognize that voice anywhere. "What's wrong?" She sounded sincere for the first time in three weeks.

"It's nothing." I wiped the fresh tears away and leaned against the sink.

"It's obviously something. Why are you crying?" She came up next to me and leaned close to me, trying to get me to look at her.

"It's just the case." I lied.

"Oh come on. That's just insulting. I was in a relationship with you for a year and I'm a profiler. You really think I can't see through you?"

"Why do you even care?" My voice sounded weak as I turned to look at her, my tear stained face making her eyes soften even more. "I've been working here for three weeks and you couldn't care less about me. You've never shown any interest in talking to me and now you do? I'm sorry Jayje but I don't buy it." I winced as the nickname slipped past my lips.

"You think I don't care about you?" Her voice was so quiet I could barely hear it. I turned back to my hands and looked down. "Hey, look at me." She asked softly. "You really think I don't care about you?"

"I don't understand why you would."

"I still love you." There was no hesitation in her words. "I've always loved you. I've loved you since I've met you."

"Then why'd you go? Why'd you leave me JJ." She stayed quiet. "I need an answer JJ."

"I...I got scared." I could tell she was telling the truth by the way her voice wavered. "I love you so much and my job is so dangerous and I thought they would hurt you-" I cut her off with a kiss.

"I love you." My lips quivered as I held back tears. "I love you so much." She wiped away my tears and pulled me in for a tight hug. "I missed you so much." I sobbed into her neck so she brought one hand up to cradle the back of my head.

"I missed you too baby I missed you so much." She kissed the top of my head. "But it's ok, I'm here now, I'm here." She kissed my temple over and over again until I stopped crying.

"You're never going to leave me again. Ever." I looked up at her with stern but tearful eyes. She kissed my forehead and nodded, hugging me even closer.

"I won't leave you again. I promise."

[holocene-sims]

next // previous

august 17, 2021 4:00 a.m. paradise hotel

three hours later

[grant] you know, i didn’t get a good start to dealing with the whole “my body is broken” thing.

[henry] huh? oh, sorry, i'm awake and heard you; i was just surprised.

[grant] the first time that, um, i got really sick after my sister died, everyone just thought i was mcfucking mentally losing it. i mean, i was, but also i could not get out of bed, could not walk, couldn’t hold a toothbrush even because my hands wouldn’t move…

[grant] and my parents, who are medical professionals, wouldn’t take me to any doctor because they thought i was melodramatic.

[henry] you missed two months of school. we went different schools but i remember that. i didn’t see you for that two months either.

[grant] they only ever took me because they got tired of dealing with me, and they were getting in trouble for me being truant. and what do you know? like every other kid with something wrong, the answer was growing pains. you're tall for your age, so that's it!

[henry] doctors are stupid sometimes.

[grant] tell me about it. i lived with two idiot doctors for eighteen years. the proof is in the pudding.

[grant] and then, uhh, there’s the whole…

[grant] the whole college thing.

[grant] did i ever tell you how i became an addict, bud?

[henry] you’ve never wanted to.

[henry] i assumed it was because people try to numb childhood trauma. and i could tell something was not right with the college hockey team situation, but i didn’t know what or if that was connected at all.

[henry] it could have come from anywhere. most everyone in college does drugs. i smoked a lot of weed.

[grant] it’s both of your assumptions. there were a lot of things i needed to suppress, and i didn’t know how to control myself after tasting the slightest bit of freedom from my parents. but also…

[grant] the dudes on the hockey team hated me except sebastian. i just didn’t click. i wasn’t the right kind of person to fit in that very dudebro jock locker room.

[grant] so, on one hand, i started on a bunch of party drugs and alcohol because i figured out that when i got fucked up out of my mind, they finally found me funny, and you know how i am.

[henry] you are really desperate for people to like you and for you to not feel like you're imposing.

[grant] it’s totally true. i need to be liked. and need is the right word. it’s not as bad now, i've grown out of it a bit, but still, the feeling is there. i need to be liked and to not be anyone's burden.

[grant] yet that’s not the whole story.

[grant] i was, um, well, also illegally prescribed a lot of painkillers.

[grant] by the team's medical people.

[grant] my health issues were already there, but playing a contact sport made it worse. i'm gonna be honest, i don’t remember what happened, but i got some kind of back injury, and i went right back to that state i was in after my sister died.

[grant] seriously, same stuff. couldn’t really get out of bed, couldn’t function. at least not without...

[henry] oh god. i don’t like the way this sounds.

[grant] i was naive enough to hope that people might do the right thing for me once in my life, so i told the medical staff, like, hey, i'm suffering, and i need help. and they just kind of, uh, waved me off and said their job was to patch me up so i could be on the ice, not fix me.

[grant] i was already trouble in all the staff's eyes because i was the odd one out in the locker room, and that's not looked upon well. so, in hindsight, i should have seen literally all the red flags or should have been brave enough to just break down and see a real doctor elsewhere again, but i didn’t.

[grant] anyway, the team staff offered me opioids and i gladly took them. and they kind of sort of barely worked. so i took more. and more and more, and i mixed them with all kinds of other substances. like, i should probably be dead from the amount of mixing i did or from just the sheer volume of drugs i took. also, no one gave a fuck how many times a week i came in to ask for drugs as long as i played hockey good enough.

[henry] and you were good.

[grant] still, the pills never genuinely made me feel better. they just got me high enough to forget about suffering. that makes sense now because i have a diagnosis and have heard nothing but anti-inflammatories are going to really work on resolving the whole pain thing. too late for that, though. i'm an addict. yes, am, not was, even if i'm sober. so, i won't touch them now. i haven't in years.

[grant] but there you go! there’s the story.

[grant] that feels supremely embarrassing to have told, but i wanted to get it off my chest. you are my best friend. more than that. you're family. you're my brother. i don’t have to be afraid to tell you anything and you deserve to know the truth.

[grant] especially because you've never shied away from honesty and you stuck with me that whole time. i don’t think most addicts are lucky enough to have friends and family that patient. and i tried many, many times to push everyone away so i could destroy myself in peace. i wouldn’t blame any of you if you had given up on me.

[grant] yeah. it's not very kind of me to receive that much, um, grace and love and forgiveness, and not at least reward and thank you with the truth. the full and honest truth, even if you didn't ask for it. oh, and a window into why i am the way i am, why i keep my mouth shut.