#still torn between feeling like i talk too much n talk too little

[nereidprinc3ss]

baby fever

in which reader and spencer discuss having a baby while at work

fluff warnings/tags: fem/AFAB!reader, bau!reader, BOYFRIEND!SPENCER or husband if u so desire, discussions of pregnancy/having a baby (obviously), reader wants a baby, so does spencer a/n: god i need him so badly. should i write follow up smut?? mwahaha evil emoji......

The coffee finished brewing minutes ago, but you’re still standing by the pot, watching Anderson’s daughter toddling around the bullpen on chubby legs. She’s not very adept at walking, but her spirit is indomitable—every time she tips a little too far forward, she catches herself and gets right back up. It’s not like she’s doing anything particularly impressive or even interesting, but you can’t take your eyes off her. Every movement makes your heart twinge, every giggle or curious quirk of her head is so adorable it physically hurts in your chest. 

From your peripheral vision you see Spencer approaching, bearing his own empty mug, but not even he can draw your attention away from the adorable little pixie and her tutu and her pigtails. 

“That is the cutest kid I have ever seen in my life,” you whisper to Spencer, hoping the quiet tone of your voice will help hide how much you feel like cooing and squealing. 

He smiles to himself as he pours his coffee. 

“That’s Rosie. Have you said hi yet?” 

“I’m afraid if I talk to her I’ll try to keep her.” 

“She is pretty adorable.” 

You turn to him as he leans next to you on the counter, sipping his coffee casually. 

“Adorable? Spencer. Puppies are adorable. You’re not understanding the magnitude of what I mean right now. I can’t explain to you how much adorable doesn’t cut it. I’m not kidding about the child abduction thing.” 

HIs eyes slide around the room as he chuckles into his mug. 

“Let’s maybe not joke about kidnapping a child in FBI headquarters.” 

“I’m not joking,” you hiss. “I feel like I’m going insane. I just—” 

At the last second you stop yourself, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth. 

“You just what?” Spencer asks, adjusting the hem of your shirt with his free hand. You glance down, watching the care he takes in the tiniest detail that you wouldn’t have given a second thought to. 

“Is something wrong with my shirt?” 

His eyes flick up to yours, hazel tinted with mild surprise. 

“No. It just was sliding up your waist a little bit.” As he says it, his knuckles brush the bare skin of your torso. You suppress a shiver, studying his profile once he pulls his hand away and goes for another sip. 

“Can we have one?” 

Your inopportune timing results in coffee dribbling down Spencer’s chin as he quickly attempts to wipe it away, wide eyes torn between you and trying to assess the mess he’s made. 

“You--you mean like a baby?” 

“Yeah, like a baby,” you say, grabbing his shoulders and squaring them to you before dabbing the coffee from his face and jacket. He watches on as you clean him up, completely still except for his wandering eyes. 

“I thought we were waiting on that.” 

“Waiting for what? A better time? There’s never going to be a good time with this job. And it’s not like we’d have to quit. Look at JJ. She has two and still does it.” 

“First of all,” Spencer begins, quickly recovering from your surprise proposition, “I don’t love the idea of either of us being in the field with you pregnant. And secondly, JJ also has Will and her mother to take care of the boys. We don’t have that. We’re both here all the time.” 

“I don’t care,” you groan, trashing the paper towels once you’ve done the best you can with his clothing. “We’d figure it out somehow!” 

“Mhm. It sounds like you’ve really devoted some careful consideration to this.” 

You drop your head to your shoulder, giving him your best puppy dog eyes and pulling lightly on his shirtsleeve. 

“Oh, come on. You haven’t thought about it at all? My perfect brain and your pretty face fusing to create a future Nobel-prize winner? Imagine how cute she would be, Spencer, we could put her hair in little braids and pigtails and we could dress her up and she could be in soccer and ballet and—” 

“She?” he smiles, studying your face intently. You roll your eyes. 

“Yes, she. Obviously we would have a girl. You—” 

The idea of Spencer as the father of your daughter hits you like a tidal wave, stopping you dead in your tracks. The images materialize in your mind’s eye so clearly, it’s like they’re already memories, so real and tangible you have no doubt it must come to fruition someday. But if before, your ranting was mostly a silly fantasy—now it’s become a bit more intense. 

He seems to sense your shift in mood. The big smile thaws slightly as he subtly grabs your hand on the counter. 

“What? What’s wrong?” 

There he goes again. Being kind. Being perfect. 

Tears sting your eyes, but you don’t let them fall.  

“Nothing. Nothing is wrong. I just... didn’t realize how badly I actually wanted that until I said it out loud.” 

The concern in his eyes softens to pure affection as he runs his thumb over the back of your hand. 

“I want it too. And whenever you decide you’re ready I’ll drop everything for you.” 

His words are like compounding pressure to the deep heat within you—forming something so solid and perfect you don’t have to wonder if it’s real. A ten on the Mohs scale, a concept that gets closer to actualizing by the minute.  

Your voice is quiet, revelatory as you admire the amber facets in his eyes. 

“You’re ready?”  

“I’ve been ready for quite some time,” he admits. And at once you feel the certainty of him paint your past and your future with one broad brushstroke. One day you will look back on your life and remember the time before Spencer, and that will be it. There is before Spencer, and with Spencer, but never an after Spencer. He wants to create something utterly permanent with you. “Come here.” 

He sets his mug down, carefully pulling you forward so you’re toe to toe with your back to the rest of the BAU; so that only he can see you. Despite how good the two of you are at avoiding PDA, occasionally an exception is made. He tenderly wipes away the few tears that have sprung from your waterline and accepts your arms around his waist, mirroring your embrace and completely enveloping you.  

“I love you,” he murmurs against the top of your hair, quiet enough that nobody in the office has a chance of hearing it. You sniffle. 

“I love you too. Also you smell really good.” 

He chuckles, hand roaming up and down your back for a moment. 

“And that is why we are holding off on this at least for a while.” 

“What do you mean?” you whisper indignantly as he gently peels you off him. His hands remain a steadying force on your waist as he smiles down at you beatifically. 

“I mean let’s give it two weeks and see if you still want a baby when you’re not ovulating.” 

[anifever]

Hii, can you make Johnny cade or the gang with reader kinda like Charlotte LA Bouff from princess and the frog because I'm just thinking that it would be so interesting having kind of s/o so spoiled but kind and not a brat too, I love Lottie tho✨😭

Gang w/ a Lottie!Reader ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

The Outsiders x Fem!Reader

୨୧ : The Curtis gang with a reader whose like Charlotte La Bouff from “Princess and the Frog”

A/N : AHHH I’m sorry this took me so long I’ve been busy w other stuff. Anyways, I always wanted to be Lottie when I was younger 🥲 hopefully I got this close enough to her character also sorry these are shorter than normal <\3

˖⁺‧₊˚ 🎀 ˚₊‧⁺˖

Darry

୨ He’s honestly a little jealous of you

୨ He feels like you have everything he doesn’t

୨ That being said, does NOT stop the man from loving you once he sees how sweet and generous you are

୨ Your personalities are super different tho

୨ You’re so bubbly and bright and he thinks it’s endearing

୨ You definitely keep him on his toes

୨ You also keep him young

୨ Whenever he seems to be struggling more than usual with finances, you swoop in and save the day

୨ He’s like “??? Honey, I can’t take this,” and you’re just like “Too late, Dare-Bear, don’t worry about it 😊”

୨ Whenever you sleep over you wear a frilly pink sleep mask he has trouble not smiling over

୨ You love his cooking and are always drooling over it

୨ It’s a habit for you to bring pastries, etc from a bakery on the other side of town whenever you come over

୨ Earlier in the relationship/before you started dating, he knew how spoiled you were and he was like “..how am I supposed to compete with this.”

୨ Luckily you find him extremely muscly, attractive, and sweet so it makes up for his money 😋😋

୨ Either way, he still buys you whatever he can when he has the spare cash

୨ You have him wrapped around your finger

Two-Bit

୨ Couldn’t hold back his laugh when he saw a childhood picture of you dressed as a princess for Halloween

୨ You guys honestly go together so well

୨ If you have the same type of accent Lottie has- even better

୨ The first thing you said when you met his sister was “Well aren’t you as pretty as a peach!”

୨ Safe to say that made him more smitten

୨ You walk him like a dog it’s so funny

୨ He doesn’t spend as much money on beer anymore cuz he saves a lot up for you

୨ Found a stray kitty on the street and you started squealing when he brought it to you

୨ He was cheesing from ear to ear

୨ Has tried to get you to kiss a frog before after you told him you always wanted to when you were younger (mwahaha) and you freaked out

୨ That being said, he picks up random bugs all the time to try and gross you out- which works

୨ You never hurt them though⁉️⁉️ You just run away and start screaming

୨ Whenever he starts insulting people if they’re mean to you or something, you start dying of laughter which spurrs him on more

Steve

୨ He’s torn between thinking you’re a brat to also being extremely attracted to you

୨ He assumes you’re a mean girl who lives off daddy’s money (the second part being lowkey true)

୨ Doesn’t stop him from drooling tho

୨ Contrary to popular belief, you were actually really nice

୨ Like you came into the DX one day, giving him a huge tip while talking super animatedly and he was just like “Ah..”

୨ Whenever he talks about cars you have no clue what he’s talking about

୨ You have a pretty pink ‘62 Ferrari 250 GTO and that’s all you know!!

୨ You buy new clothes constantly and have lil’ fashion shows for him

୨ “Yeahhh, could you jus’ spin around one more time so I can see the back? 😇”

୨ “….Steve.”

୨ Whenever nobody else is around (Soda, etc) at the DX, you give him WAY bigger of a tip than normal lmao

୨ Brags about you to Soda all the time

Dallas

୨ He thought you were so annoying at first I’m sorry 😭

୨ Even with that, he still tried to get in your pants

୨ You slapped him for it which just made him want you more (he’s on that freak timing)

୨ You know what you want and he’s honestly really attracted to it

୨ He ends up spoiling you though, he can’t help it when you give him puppy dog eyes and pout your glossy lips

୨ Hilariously different

୨ Whenever he’s in your room he’s so out of place

୨ He’s surrounded by so much pink, stuffed animals, expensive jewelry and clothes, a big canopy bed, a crystal chandelier, etc

୨ His ego gets boosted when he’s out in public with you

୨ Like he’s with the prettiest and richest girl in town??? Yeahhh he’ll never let this go

୨ You not caring about his/his friends status’ is really important to him and he appreciates it even though he’ll never outright say it

Soda

୨ You guys both have a big line of people who want you

୨ Power couple!!

୨ You’re really ditzy- not necessarily stupid, but not all there

୨ He relates.

୨ You guys just sit there and look pretty

୨ Like you definitely have won various beauty pageants and have kept all the tiaras and sashes

୨ Makes you try the tiaras on every time he comes over

୨ He takes you to a drag race or rodeo and you’re like “Shew- Soda, I’m sweatin’ like a sinner in church,” while fanning yourself

୨ Probably because you’re wearing some expensive dress from a boutique in town made with thick material, but he’ll never smart off to you by saying that 🤍🤍

୨ Has a habit of ruining his DX shirt and you always pay for him to get a new one

୨ He already knew he was attractive, but it was only when you came along and started buttering him up that he started getting giddy about it

୨ He sucks up so hard to your mom and dad; they love him

Johnny

୨ Probably teased you a bit with Pony before you guys officially met

୨ After the initial iffy feeling he had about you wore off, he was head over heels when he knew you better

୨ He genuinely sees you as a princess

୨ You’re always wearing some shade of pink and some form of pearls and he’s mesmerized

୨ He thinks you deserve a lot better since he can’t give you much

୨ You literally couldn’t care less though since he treats you so well

୨ He’ll save up random coins off the street if he had to tho

୨ Your house is huge so you let him stay in a spare room which eventually just becomes his own

୨ Your house also did nothing to help his idea of you being a princess since it was way bigger and more extravagant than anything he could’ve imagined

୨ Your cat(s) love him, he’s a little overwhelmed at first but after that you’ll always find him with one around/on him

୨ You’re so comfortable fawning over him constantly and he gets pretty embarrassed about it LMAO

Pony

୨ He has a thing for pretty rich girls so this is fitting

୨ Once again, he also assumed you were mean and stuck up

୨ When you guys talked for the first time, he was definitely surprised

୨ You were definitely a bit out of touch with reality, but who cares!!!! You were pretty and nice!!!!

୨ Saw you stand up for one of your greaser friends once and felt his heart skip a beat

୨ Heard through the grapevine (he asked around) that you were enamored with some ‘pretty boy’ and couldn’t stop talking about him and he was like “Awww shucks 😞”

୨ He became extremely confused and denied it when Two and Johnny kept saying it was him after they saw you two interact at school

୨ He finally picked up on the heavy flirting one day and was like “…OHHHH”

୨ Whenever you get excited about something, he has a hard time understanding you since you start talking so fast and freaking out, but he just watches with a lovesick grin

୨ Your sass put together is on another level

୨ It scares Darry.

୨ And Steve.

୨ Back to the point I made earlier, you’d stand up for him about his status no matter what

୨ So in love it’s nasty

୨ Everyone in the gang is confused about how he bagged you especially considering he’s the youngest

[woso-dreamzzz]

Power II

Katie McCabe x Reader

Summary: You put Katie in her place

Katie was really toeing the line now.

A win against Chelsea under her belt and suddenly she was drunk off the feeling of victory.

That always made her act out a bit and you looked up at her from under your lashes as you sat in her cubby.

The whole locker room was celebrating.

Usually, you wouldn't venture in here but she had been insistent, dragging you inside in a way that really puffed her up to her friends.

You could forgive that though.

You always gave her a bit of leeway when she was celebrating. Not too much though and she was really getting closer to you snapping at her.

"Y/n!" Kyra crowed from across the room," My zipper's stuck!"

You sighed fondly at the girl, getting to your feet to fix her coat for her.

A half-eaten slice of pizza hung from her mouth as she struggled, trying to force her zipper down and you tutted.

"Give me a moment, Kyra," You told her," I don't know how you got it this stuck."

Kyra was sat in her cubby and you had to lean over to wrench the extra fabric out from her zipper.

You'd just got it free when you felt a slap to your ass.

You shrieked a little bit at the shock of it before whirling around.

Katie was grinning, looking back at her friends to check if they saw but her smile dimmed when she saw the pointed look you were giving her.

You stepped closer, enough for the team to not hear your words as you spoke them directly into her ear.

"That's strike one," You said," Keep pushing me and I will put you back in your place, Katie."

"Babe," She stuttered out," It was just a joke."

"And that's why it's only your first warning."

Strike two came when you were on the bus. Usually, you would drive yourself to Katie's games but she had insisted on having you on the team bus with her, sat in her lap.

She was still talking to Leah and Lessi and you knew the moment Leah mentioned partaking in certain celebrations when you got home that Katie would feel emboldened again.

Her hands roamed and you let them.

They were mostly under the table where the other girls couldn't see.

A squeeze of the thigh.

A teasing drag of her leg against yours.

Then her hands got higher and higher until she was squeezing one of your breasts in one hand.

Your shifted a little bit, tilting your head to once again speak into her ear.

"Second warning. One more Katie and I swear to god I will put you in your place in front of all of your little friends."

Katie's hand dropped.

There wasn't another incident until you all got back to London.

You were walking off the bus when Katie, having been teased somewhat by Leah, pulled you into a downright filthy kiss in public.

There was cheering behind her and you decided in that moment that Arsenal was just frat house masquerading as a football club.

You also decided that Katie had run out of warnings so, as she slipped her tongue into your mouth, your hand shot out to grab her neck.

She faltered.

"What?" You said," Is something wrong? You love when I squeeze your neck when we kiss."

"B-Babe," She said, chest heaving, torn halfway between being ridiculously turned on and embarrassed beyond belief.

"What? I thought you wanted to kiss me in front of all of your little friends."

"I'm sorry."

"Uh-huh. You will be." You pulled away but kept a tight grip on Katie's neck, raising your voice so everyone could hear. "Now, go and say goodbye to your friends. Nicely, Katie, and then we'll go home."

"Er...yes..."

You released her and off she went to say goodbye, face burning red as everyone stared with open mouths at how obedient she had become.

You couldn't resist though.

"If you hurry up then I'll break out that big strap you like and we can work on you taking it all."

Her face burned brighter.

[pausgirl33]

"Bad Day" | Pablo Gavi.

Summary: Since his operation, Pablo has felt quite discouraged and grumpy, and one day he makes the mistake of lashing out at the person who has been most there for him.

Warnings: angst

a/n; it's a little long but hope you enjoy 😬

ᡣ𐭩ᡣ𐭩ᡣ𐭩ᡣ𐭩ᡣ𐭩ᡣ𐭩ᡣ𐭩ᡣ𐭩ᡣ𐭩ᡣ𐭩ᡣ𐭩ᡣ𐭩ᡣ𐭩ᡣ𐭩ᡣ𐭩ᡣ𐭩ᡣ𐭩ᡣ𐭩ᡣ𐭩ᡣ𐭩ᡣ𐭩ᡣ𐭩ᡣ𐭩ᡣ

A couple of months had passed since Pablo went injured and had to undergo surgery. This left everyone sad, and had obviously caused a complete change in the boy's attitude, clearly for the worse. He looked more down and insecure, even though Xavi and his teammates assured him that he would be fine soon, Pablo still couldn't stop being clouded by bad thoughts.

And since that happened daily, you had been trying to support and be aware of your boyfriend's needs at all times, and added to that, your studies and household chores were exhausting you but you tried to cope with everything as best as possible.

So you tried not to let yourself get so carried away by the pressure and stress of this and help Pablo as much as possible, be it bathing and so on.

Although sometimes (all the time, actually) the boy was too stubborn and childish to let himself be helped, especially when it was bath time.

Like the other afternoon...

He came home after another special training session in a visibly foul mood. Like always, Pablo entered slamming the door loudly, causing a couple picture frames to shake on the wall—you flinched at the noise from the living room, dropping your book onto your lap. You could tell from the sound of his heavy footsteps that he was mad.

The boy passed through the hallway, without even giving you a glance and stormed directly into the bedroom, muttering under his breath.

"This is so damn frustrating," he grumbled, yanking clothes out of the drawer. He grabbed a towel and headed to the bathroom, slamming the door again behind him.

You, accustomed to this routine, took a deep breath and grabbed a couple of fresh towels. As she approached the bathroom door, she could hear the water running and Pablo's irritated mutterings. She knocked gently, "Pablo, mi vida, do you need any help?"

"No! Que puedo hacerlo yo solo, joder!" He snapped from the other side. (I can do it myself, damn it!)

She sighed, feeling a mix of frustration and worry. You hated seeing him like this, full of anger and pain. "Pablo, I just want to help. Please, let me in," You insisted softly, hoping to soothe him, since last time, he almost fell in the shower and all because of his stubbornness.

Instead of a calm response, the door flung open and the boy stood there, his face flushed with anger. "I said no!" He shouted, before slamming once again the door, this time in her face, miraculously not hitting the tip of her nose in the process. The sudden action startled her, leaving her standing still.

You stood there for a moment, feeling tears prick at the corners of your eyes. You were tired of this attitude but you knew that it was the frustration and pain talking, not the Pablo you loved. With a long face, she decided to wait on the bed, just in case he changed his mind. She didn't want to bother him too much because she knew how he reacted to persistent help, and she hated fighting.

Minutes ticked by, feeling like hours. She could hear him moving around in the bathroom, the sound of water splashing and occasional mutterings of frustration. She felt helpless, torn between wanting to give him space and the need to be there for him.

ᡣ𐭩ᡣ𐭩ᡣ𐭩

Today was a pretty bad day for you, since last week you had 3 important exams for which you spent hours studying but you still had the feeling that everything would turn out well, but to your surprise you failed.

This left a really bad feeling in your stomach all morning, yet you tried to distract yourself with other subjects and then making lunch for when Pablo arrived from his trials.

As you were turning off the frying pan, you heard the door open and close with a loud slam, something you were already getting used to. You wiped your hands with the rag and trotted to the entrance hall, where Pablo was struggling to take off his jacket.

"Hey, Pablito, do you need help with your—"

"No, I'm fine," The boy said through gritted teeth, interrupting her still struggling. The girl raised her eyebrows as she still watched him.

"Pablo, just let me do it for you—"

"Joder, déjame en paz!" Pablo snapped, his frustration boiling over. (Fuck, leave me alone)

Y/N rolled her eyes, starting to get irritated as well.

"Sometimes everything would be a little easier if you would just let me help you," Y/N crossed her arms.

"I told you dozens of times that I don't need your help. I can do things on my own, you know?" He said, finally hanging his jacket reluctantly on the coat rack.

"Well, I saw you struggle a lot with that jacket, so I don't know—"

"Y/N," The boy told her in a warning tone, interrupted her again, thing that was already starting to annoy the girl, who looked at him with a frown.

"Jeez! You should stop being so stubborn, Pablo, I was just trying to help," she murmured again, after releasing a heavy sigh, watching him walk towards the kitchen, slowly starting to follow him closely.

"Well, I don't need it! I don't need you!" He barked harshly, quickly turning to look at her.

Y/N froze, suddenly stunned by those words. She would never have imagined hearing Pablo say something like that. Tears welled up in her eyes, but she blinked them back, trying to stay strong.

'He doesn't need me?'

"Fine." She murmured in a small voice.

And without another word, the girl turned and walked away, cautiously closing the bedroom door, her heart feeling heavy already. The tears she had been holding back for those few seconds finally fell down her cheeks once she slid onto the door.

All the pressure and stress she had tried to suppress was finally taking its toll, and added to Pablo's outburst towards her, she felt that everything was too much. Y/N had reached her breaking point.

In the other room, Pablo let out a heavy sigh, while running a hand through his hair. He turned around and his eyes landed on the pan with food still warm on the stove, and the plates set out ready to be placed on the table.

The sight made him feel a pang of guilt so intense that it took him a while to realize the tears forming in his own eyes. Y/N always took care of everything—shit, even of him, and yet he took it upon himself to act like an ungrateful and insensitive jerk, and now Pablo thought about all the previous moments in which he behaved in the same way.

Pablo's heart broke a little more when he heard the inconsolable cries of the girl being cushioned by the door. He sat at the kitchen table, staring at the food Y/N had prepared, his appetite gone.

[melukonova]

LOVING SEPHIROTH, sephiroth x reader.

tw. mentions of his hurtful past, emotional abuse that miniroth didn't deserve :( this post can be seen as suggestive but it's left mostly to your interpretation

a/n. for @silverflqmes , my best friend who has inspired me to write yet again for something i love and for writing various requests for me, indulging me in my own happiness. you are never leaving this deep hole of ff7 that i dug for you AHAHAHAH! this is also for the many fans who have made fanfics and such that have shaped me now<3 much love to you all! (i will make more headcanons if this gets love) also sephiroth might be a little ooc since he's new territory of writing for me :,)

info. very lovable and soft sephiroth<3 very short blurbs! inspired by the song everything by lifehouse, i can see him relating about you, the reader, and how he feels for you. enjoy! pre-nibelheim!!!

𐚁. sephiroth's love language can be seen as quality time as seen with the time he spent with genesis and angeal, he grew very attached easily. i can see this in a similiar way since i'm sure once you've caught sephiroth's eye, you're happily in his heart. he enjoys just being together, perhaps he'll teach you how to use masamune (a toy version at least since he wants to protect you from injuries). don't get me wrong, every other love language applies for him too but i know he's happiest with the fact that you're there by his side.

𐚁. he is very awkward with affection so the first time you hold him, i think he wouldn't know what to do but he'll awkwardly pat your back while trying not to freak out a bit by being touched since he was experimented on as a child. please teach him how to love, he didn't get enough as kid... i think being patient with him would also warm his heart with you as well. he isn't the best with people, just in using his sword... which is why it's an anomaly to him if you stuck around for this long.

𐚁. indulging ellie on this one: sephiroth with a kitten. he probably is the one to adopt a kitten out of the two of you except what you didn't expect was him to basically mother the kitten. i think his wounds are still healing from the fact that the locket of his mother was torn away from him.. but you guys both loved that kitten very much, naming saikou which means radiance. it is the radiance of both of your lives and definitely a way to heal from your guys' pain, whatever it may be from your end but i know sephiroth suffers from loneliness and feeling not good enough. he feels this much less because of you though and of course, saikou. saikou is now your love rival... the kitty is his precious baby but you are his most prized treasure.

𐚁. while i said quality time is his favorite love language, i think that he likes physical affection as well since he never really knew what it's like to be loved. he wanted to learn though as well as learn to love you which led to teaching him how to cuddle. still very awkward, he's trying his very hardest as he pats your head and encases you into his body. eventually it led to couch cuddles every time he came home from work, he won't say it out loud but this is his favorite part of being able to be with you. he is so beyond smitten.

𐚁. as sephiroth had been in SOLDIER all of his life, he's not completely sure the best way to comfort you on many things but what he can do is to give you a better night! he'd come home with flowers since somehow zack had talked him into buying flowers from his girlfriend, what can i say? zack was a persuasive businessman and sephiroth had no clue how to be a good boyfriend. he'd probably panic if he couldn't make you feel better, he just wants you happy and would slay his enemies (those who wronged you). he'd indulge you in just about anything that you wanted to do between him trying on your favorite dress, self-care day with face masks, kisses all over to make you less insecure or just to feel more loved, an ice cream date, etc. you name it and it's done. he'd even sneak you into the training room on the SOLDIER floor to take you on a loving date with an even more beautiful sunset but all he could see was his sun, you.

𐚁. you already know his hair care routine since it was leaked from your mail, did i mention you were apart of sephiroth's fan club? he uses a WHOLE bottle of shampoo and conditioner. one day you had to braid his hair, adding in flowers to his hair as you braided it. he loved it since it kept his face clear for combat, meanwhile genesis and angeal snickered at him since his s/o made him look all pretty so none of his enemies would take him seriously. masamune said differently than his hair did. if somebody ruined the artwork of your braiding? they ALSO had a date with masamune.

𐚁. he doesn't like a lot of attention as many would say since he is so famous. this is the big question, how did you enter his life in comparison to the fangirls? you understood him. it was a new feeling for him and he didn't know how much he would end up loving it. no thirsting over how hot he was or saying how strong he had been. just a simple: "i know you've been working hard for so long, you deserve some rest," was enough to make him moved by you. nobody could compare to you in his innocent heart. he was so new to every experience, every hug, every kiss, and every touch you gave him. each time was something new that he had learned to love about you and eventually love about himself as well. you helped him to understand he was more than a monster, more than a soldier, more than just a test subject.

𐚁. what you hadn't expect is to find a loving sephiroth in the kitchen with you, holding you close to him as you listened to italian cooking music (the pasta addict in me thinks he'd want to learn more about pasta and its origin). his head was leaning down towards yours while staring down at your lips as you both had been swaying. his hand had been on your waist and the other had been moving up from your shoulder, over your neck slowly with care, to your soft cheek. capturing you in his lips, the water had boiled over but he didn't care at that moment. the thing he clung onto most was this moment because at this moment, sephiroth just knew. he was in love and he finally felt free as he deepened the kiss. he knew where home was and he was kissing his own home, taking in all of what makes you so lovable as well.

melukonova, 2024. 𐀔

[flamingpudding]

Ghost Kitten

A/N: I got fascinated with the idea of Danny being Selina's son and then during work this sort of idea formed in my head.

Danny wasn't supposed to know yet. Jack had it all prepared for when Danny would get to learn about this. But this, this was not how Danny was supposed to learn about his origins yet. Jack Fenton wasn't sure how to react, so he ended up possible reacting in the worst way possible if he judged it by the way his sweet little boy was looking at them.

Jack tried to remember where it went wrong. Jazz had come to them, told them Danny wanted to have an important talk. That it was so important that she needed both of them to focus on him seriously. It had worried Maddie and him at first and when they sat down on the couch facing their children they weren't sure what to expect. But then his boy told him about the accident he had in the lap, about how things changed even asking them if they ever noticed how Danny's behaviours changed.

Jack had to admit then, that he hadn't really noticed and it made his mouth taste like dirt. He didn't like where this was going. He saw how his children exchanged a glance and then his sweet boy told them the truth and Jack could feel the horror overtaking his entire mind. The accident had changed Danny even worse.

He couldn't help but remember a term he had last heard long ago before his collage years even. Meta Human. His son had become a Meta human with ghost based powers and had kept it a secret from them for so long. Jack didn't know how to react then and still didn't know now. All he could think about were the horrors he had put his sweet little son through. All the times he had offhandedly said he would tear him apart molecule by molecule. In how much fear did his son have to live until he gathered enough courage to tell them, most likely only because Jazz was there to support him?

Jack didn't want to imagine it anymore. All he wanted was to hug his little boy and tell him that everything would be okay but before he could do anything. Maddie, his until then wonderful, wife told them something in return they had an agreement over when to tell them.

"You're adopted. You are not my child."

Until then Jack had always thought Maddie loved Danny just as much as he did but as he locked at his wife and saw the steely coldness flickering in them with distress. He wasn't so sure anymore. Torn between being angry at Maddie for the first time after so long and wanting to comfort his boy, Jack could do nothing but sat frozen as his beloved family broke apart before his eyes.

Suddenly Maddie and Jazz got into a headed argument, Danny was starting to draw into himself, making himself smaller watching his mother and sister fight. Until Maddie stormed out fo the room. Jazzie gave him a challenging look but Jack didn't know what to say so instead, what he had planned to tell his son when he turned 18 he was going to tell him now.

"Danny you know how we have barely any contact with family from my side? There is a reason behind it. But the important part here is that the only one I do keep sort of contact with is my fourth cousin and even that is nothing more than a couple messages ever few months."

"And what does that have to do with Danny?" Jazz pressed on while his little boy finally got the courage to look up at him.

"Dann-no, I need for you to now that no matter what you are or what I am going to tell you, you are my little boy, my son." Jack did everything he could to stare reassuringly at his boy and smiled once he saw him smile just a little too, he was most likely relieved that he was taking the news better than his mother.

"About 16 year ago, my fourth cousin contacted me out of the blue, till then we had only exchanged a couple of words and theories and projects. But that time was different. She was panicked, unsure and distressed. I don't know the specifics, all she told me was that she had gotten pregnant with a child from a fling who she wasn't sure wanted a relationship with or not and that she couldn't take care of a child in a city as dangerous as where she lived."

Understanding dawned on his daughter's face and Jack smiled fondly, Jazzie-pants had always been a smart cookie. "She didn't want to put the baby into her system, nor let a stranger take care of it. So she asked me and the moment I saw the little baby the first time. I knew he would be my son no matter what or how long she would want for me to take care of him."

Danny blinked wide eyed at Jack as finally his boy also understood what he was telling him. "Technically you are my fifth cousin, but I would prefer for you to stay my son for as long as you want."

He left his children after telling Danny the truth of his origin. Jack new he would love his son no matter what he was or his reaction towards the truth of his origins. Still he hoped this would not tear his family apart and that it would only take a day or two for Maddie to cool off for things to go back to an adjusted normal. Jack mused that he would have to diele back on the ghost ripping comments, he wouldn't want for his little boy to live in fear in their own house.

That what he thought until he saw his wife stewing in their bedroom, muttering about theories and how their boy wasn't their boy. He knew his wife, and dearly loved her. But it was because he knew her that he did the next thing he felt like regretting the next moment.

Danny is no longer safe with us. - J

He didn't get an answer from his cousin and the next morning he knew why. He did expect for her to want to remove Danny from their care, but he did not expect her to visit him with barely any time delay the next day.

All he could do was to stare and watch as Selina appeared on his doorstep with a man that was glaring at him and Jack might have only seen in magazines before, asking if she could meet her boy and how much he had already told Danny about his birth. And when he saw his baby boy's reaction to the two he wanted to do nothing more than hug and cuddle his little boy but once again, he got beaten to it by his fourth cousin.

His poor boy looked so unsure when Selina hugged him that Jack really wanted to take him away again, but he had no other choice, if he wanted to ensure his boy's safety.

[rumble-aint-a-rumble-without-me]

HIII could you write what the boys would be like when they r jealous if you haven’t already please? <3

A/N: This was wayyyyy too much fun. Thanks for the request!

DARRY CURTIS

Darry’s a grown man, too mature for jealousy! But he still gets a little jealous because I say so <3

It’s mostly around his college buddies and the older boys in the gang who sometimes like to make moves just to upset Darry

But Dare trusts you, y’know? If you guys are going steady, he knows you only have eyes for him and he really only has eyes for you

Jealous!Darry though, that means he’s gotta have his hands on you in some way or another, Jealous!Darry wants nothing more to be touching you and he’s gonna get what he wants, believe you me

Hand on your hip, fingers tangled with yours, pulling you back into his chest, you’ve gotta be close to him and he’s gonna make sure of it

Darry will be a little snippy with whoever’s taken to making moves on you, glaring a little bit and using his size for intimidation purposes <3

SODAPOP CURTIS

Sodapop, my love. My little Sodapop. Darling little Sodapop Curtis. No-thoughts-in-his-head Sodapop

I don’t think he’s get jealous, I think he’d just get a little sad, I don’t think he’s capable of real jealousy

I think Sodapop has a lot of inadequacy issues? He knows he’s pretty, but I think he struggles a lot with feeling wanted and needed

So if someone’s trying to hit you up, Sodapop might step between you guys and try to break it up, but he’d be a little sad, wondering if you’d rather be with them than him

If he’s jealous, he gets kind of pouty and sad, and he might pull back from you, try to prevent himself from being hurt

I just don’t think he’s one of those big, loud, aggressive people when he’s jealous, I really can’t see Sodapop as being one of those people

PONYBOY CURTIS

Ehhhhhh, I’m torn on this one, I don’t know if I see Ponyboy as being one of those clearly obvious jealous people, but I can see him getting into a fight with you over something that has to do with his jealousy

Like- if he sees somebody who’s flirting with you and he doesn’t see you try and get out of the situation, he might be a little upset and get a little snippy with you

He’s not really trying to be an asshole to you, he’s just upset and his emotions tend to come out through his words instead of his fists

But at the same time, Ponyboy’s definitely got some of that greaser fire in him though, so I can really see him getting into an argument with someone who may not be leaving you alone

He’ll tell somebody to back off, do a little chest puffing before looking back at you to make sure you’re alright and okay-

He’s not to kind of guy who gets jealous though and immediately tries to make out with you in the middle of a crowded space, I hope I’ve managed to convey that to you guys

DALLAS WINSTON

Dally Winston is one of the most jealous people you will ever meet in your life and I promise you that, I would bet my whole life on that

He’s loud and can be sort of mean and crass when he’s jealous, both in your favor and not, so just be warned-

You’re gonna get in a lot of fights because of his jealousy, I just don’t know what else to tell you, he’s super stubborn

Most likely to try and make out with you because he’s jealous and most likely to try and make moves on you because he’s jealous

Will slip a hand into your pocket and keep a hand on your ass while he stares down whatever idiot thought they could talk to you

He makes it known very fast, whether through a fight or through multiple verbal threats, that whoever decides it’s a good decision to mess with his doll, will have to deal with the wrath of Winston

JOHNNY CADE

I don’t think Johnny gets jealous too often? I don’t see him as being the jealous type, I don’t think he’d notice if you were trying to make him jealous either

Like- I don’t think Johnny is on the same level of jealous as Curly Shepard is, but I do think that he can be a little jealous, especially when it comes to the rest of the boys in the gang

I got an ask about how Johnny would react if reader was bonding a lot with Ponyboy over a book though, and I think that’s a really good plotline to follow to feature some jealous Johnny

Johnny’s not going to be jealous in that situation ^^ unless he starts to see Ponyboy making moves on you, and let’s be real, would Ponyboy really do that?

Johnny would just try and join you, learning about your favorite things so that you’ll talk with him more and not just Ponyboy

I just really can’t see him freaking out over it though, he’s protective, not jealous, so I think that’s a fine line that’s really important to define

TWO-BIT MATHEWS

Happy go lucky Two-Bit doesn’t get jealous often, but I can see it happening every so often, especially if you guys go out to a party and he has a few to drink

Will mostly likely end up in a fight, especially if whoever’s hitting on you doesn’t back off when Two-Bit tells them to get lost

But then again, I can totally see Two pulling you away, claiming he needs to show you something or that he wants to dance and just tugging you away from whoever he no longer wants to deal with

I don’t see you guys fighting? I don’t think Two-Bit would start fights over being jealous unless you were actively doing stuff that made him jealous

Like- if you’re actively flirting with somebody else to try and make him jealous? You have to assume that he’s gonna be upset, that’s not really a nice thing to do

But I can’t see him being mad at you if he’s jealous because of somebody else, I don’t see him being mean when jealous like Dallas would be

STEVE RANDLE

Steve can get a little jealous, I’m not gonna lie to you guys, he’s very protective over you

I think it’s better with the boys? Specifically with Sodapop, but if Dally’s flirting with you, Steve-o’s not afraid to punch him in his yankee face

Jealous Steve gets to be a little pouty and a little needy and, of course, just a little touchy because you can’t look at him and tell me I’m wrong

He’s kissing you, more than what is considered decent, if the opportunity arises and he’s feeling jealous, he thinks it’s a nice way to gain your attention back

Call him a few pet names if he’s upset or literally just hold his face and make him look at you until he calms down, the method is foolproof

He’s a simple boy, he’s gets a little jealous sometimes, all you gotta do is give him some attention and he’ll be right as rain in no time

TIM SHEPARD

Hoo boy, jealous Tim Shepard, more likely than you’d think, he can be just as bad as his younger brother

He can be mean, but like Two-Bit, his meanness won’t be directed at you unless the situation sort of calls for it

Whoever’s made the bad decision to advance on you will have to face big bad Tim Shepard and try and hold their own against his snarls and threats

Jealous Tim is either a handsy Tim or an aloof Tim, there is little to no in between in that situation-

Handsy Tim means he’s keeping contact with you, slipping a hand in your pocket or tracing the seams of your jeans, pushing the line as much as he can before he gets told to stop

Aloof Tim just means he’s having a little self doubt, a little hesitancy because maybe you’d rather be with that other guy, maybe he’s not good enough for you

CURLY SHEPARD

Curly Shepard? Jealous? Every single day of his life, my dear friends, this boy is incredibly, incredibly jealous

You look at somebody else? Talk about somebody else? Listen to someone else? Stand next to someone else?

Curly is pouting and whining, grumbling and complaining because you’re not paying enough attention to him and he’s not pleased

I’m not even joking, it’s literally the smallest things that will set Curly off and once he’s jealous, everyone is going to have to deal with it because he is certainly not afraid to hide

If it gets to that point, Curly is not afraid to throw fists to get your attention back on you and take care of whoever’s decided to talk with you, Curly just likes to use his fists

If you’re bothered by this behavior, I really don’t suggest going with Curly, it’s just the way he is and I doubt he’s gonna change anytime soon

[rosegasly]

Lavender Haze.

⇢ summary: “I like your stupid face. It’s so stupid. It’s so… I like it. Can I touch it?”  ⇢ genre: tipsy & risqué  ⇢ pairing: max verstappen x best friend reader ⇢ a/n: taylor inspires all my titles i'm a basic bitch like that

You should know by now that you are terrible with alcohol after one too many puking sessions and horrible hangovers. Still, when Max—your reigning best friend, now world champion—crossed the checkered flag in Abu Dhabi, there was no other way the night was going to end. 

 Feeling the burn of bile creep up your throat again, you push forward on your knees, clutching the cold porcelain of the toilet bowl with all your might as you throw up what feels like days worth of food. 

 The cool touch of said best friend’s hand rubbing soothing circles across your back is as much a relief against your scorching hot skin as a knife moulded with thick, unadulterated guilt that is digging into the gaps of your rib the longer you are awake and thinking. His other hand busy holding your hair back over your head. While your thoughts aren’t entirely coherent, the fact that you are ruining what is probably Max’s best night yet isn’t exactly lost on you either. 

Tears sting your eyes as your stomach finally settles, only a hollow sinking feeling where there was once turbulence, and you can’t decipher if it’s the lack of food or the drunk realisation of what a shitty friend you make at the moment. 

 “i am sorry,” the apology comes out meek, liquid pooling into your eyes and blurring your vision. 

 “Schatje,” his voice is every bit the affection, love and exasperation that you don’t deserve and you tuck your face away between the protective curl of your arms over the toilet bowl. If you were a little less drunk, maybe you’d be disgusted, but all you want to do right now is hide away so you can’t see the forgiveness swimming in his gaze. 

 “You trying to hide the running mascara? Come on, you know you can do worse,” Max teases and the sound coming out of you is equal parts sob and snort. 

 Strong arms curl across your chest, resting slightly above your breasts and your heart goes into overdrive as you sit there torn between feeling grounded by his presence and your stupid crush rearing its head again to mess with you. “You gonna come out of the toilet bowl anytime soon?” 

 His breath tickles the shell of your ear as his chin finds home on the curve where your neck meets your shoulder and you can’t hold back the shiver that races through you at the warm sensation. 

 With a firm tug he pulls you back, your head lolling to the side of his chest and burying itself in his warmth and safety. 

 “Come on, let’s get you cleaned up.” 

 Another steady pull and he has you on your feet, guiding you to the sink nearby. The angle of your neck turns awkward as you wrap your arms around his waist, face still nuzzled against his signature white tee secured tight between the clench of your fingers. 

 Touch as gentle as it can be, he holds your chin, tilting your face towards the basin and you wordlessly turn the tap on. You are half tempted to drink the water but stop yourself from following through on that urge, gargling and washing the acidity from your mouth instead. 

 The angel of a man you blessedly call your best friend drags your ass out, giving you bottled water which you finally gulp down like the parched woman you are. Sated and no longer reeking of bile, you nuzzle back into Max’s chest, half-formed apologies spilling from you in an endless stream. 

 He keeps quiet, allowing you time to let things off your chest. After years of being there through the others most vulnerable, he knows you better than he does himself and as much as the sight of your pink, blotchy cheeks and drunken apologies makes his chest tight, he realises how much you need it. The weight of unsaid words always weighs heavy on your shoulders, and he has never cut you off when you open up. Instead, choosing to console and talk through those thoughts after. 

 What seems like hours, but is probably only minutes later you finally bring yourself to move away from his chest, the death grip you had on his shirt loosening enough to allow you to look up. 

 In the club’s dim lighting, out of focus, eye to eye, crystal blue spilling into the dark of your eyes, your grip on reality slips a little more. 

 “I like your stupid face. It’s so stupid. It’s so… I like it. Can I touch it?”

 Dark lashes shutter your view of the endless blue as Max blinks, a little taken aback before a smile breaks out. Rosey lips and pinker cheeks and the faint dusting of freckles over the bridge of his nose and high of his cheeks. It’s him. With every breath, you breathe him. Amidst all the cigarette smoke and stale of old carpet under your foot and the sweat in the air; all you register now is him. Max. Your best friend. The one person you would give up everything for, knowing he would do the same. 

 “Go ahead. Touch me.” You can’t tell if his voice has gone lower, deeper, or if you have just pressed yourself too close to him. The vibrations from his chest travelling to you through yours from where they are against each other, not a hair’s breadth of space in between as you near. The lines between close and too close blurring in your inebriated state of mind. 

 The last thing you see before your eyes fall shut is the blue of his. Cerulean and crystal, the faintest blue in the light, edges coloured a dark green in the shadows and its endless. Their depth, his gaze, the twin pounding of both your hearts, the heavy breaths and the sweat from the humid club over your skins. 

 His lips are every bit as soft as you had imagined them to be. Sweet like your most beloved candy, light as a feather as they brush against you. Hesitant, then sure. Worried for what could be lost but realising what could be gained. Gentle, then a little more forceful as your back slams against the wall and you groan. 

 It’s relief. It’s desperation. The way you have starved to touch him, have him feel you. Breathe in his exhales; let them become one in you to make them yours. Kissing him to mark him yours, having him in your arms and knowing you could never let go. 

 He grinds into you and it’s dirty and messy, more the high of your hip bones and the thick of his jeans than anything else, but his fingers still dig into the curve of your waist almost painfully. His ragged breath making you shiver when his nose grazes your skin and you hear more so than feel him inhale your scent. 

 He bites your lip and licks it better. You tug his hair, then caress his face. 

 It’s sexual and innocent and when its finally too much and you can no longer hold your collective breaths, you smile instead. Your lips curled into a smile over his grin and it’s suddenly okay. Everything the night has been and every sleepless night that you two have spent tormented over unreciprocated feelings leading up to it. 

[satoruhour]

https://www.tumblr.com/deathgasmic/729345046853419008/i-hate-to-break-this-to-you-but-i-am-once-again

this with satoru. omgomgom—

a/n: fem!reader, discussions of unprotected sex, oral f! receiving, finger sucking, creampie & breeding, cum eating, jealous gojo. link to post here also anon ur mind >>>>>

oh OH OH .. OKAYYYYYY ok to start off he’s clingy as fuck to begin with so im not even sure why youd dare to flirt with gojo satoru’s girl … erm! but anyway theres prob this kyoto teacher slash sorcerer who was just posted to the region and hes nice and all …. utahime says hes leagues above gojo but also bc she just rlly fuckin hates him LMFAO. paired with the fact that gojo has an affinity to fuck at public events just cause u look so damn good in that black dress he picked out for you. but oh boy that sorcerer has insanity coming just by talking to gojo satoru’s girl !!!!

ur bf also is … possessive as hell. youve tried to tell him to not scare off random guys (or girls) who come up to you and ask you for ur number but he just . likes to scare them off. usually you’d be there to calm the situation down too cause if u were not that man will go CRAZY. ok but anyway! you already know whats in store when gojo saunters up to the two of you with drink in hand (apple cider) in hand and a hand curls around your waist and hes just like “sorry, can i steal your conversation partner”

you thought it was bc of the black dress but it’s the jealousy and suddenly everything makes sense and youre teasing him all the way to the bathroom. altho it’s futile cause the moment the lock clicks and you’re turned around and pushed up against the counter. good luck holding onto the installed racks of the sink bc he goes to his knees and eats you out like no other. gojo uses his jealousy and the lust he has for you and puts it all into his tongue

“he wishes he could taste my sweet pussy,” he basically makes out with your cunt as youre trying to keep your voice down, “what he doesnt know is that my girl gets wet for me and me only” WHEEEEW hes angry and he makes sure your pussy gets all the heat. makes you cum one, two, three times and hes sure the event’s at their dessert course right now while he still has you moaning and grinding into his mouth. now youre up on the sink’s counter, and him on his knees but he stops your orgasm just as you were reaching your high and he has to fuck you now or else he’ll die. gojo isnt even sure how he manages to survive with his throbbing cock

and it’s rough when he slams into you from behind the first time that ur moans echo in the bathroom teehee, gojo only grins, “that good, huh? not so eager to talk to other guys now, are you?” and you want to protest but he doesnt let you, shoving two fingers into your mouth and you whimper around it, basically grabbing at his wrist to suck on his fingers like u would to his cock. 

hes torn between being rough and soft to you when youre so clueless about the effect u have on people. gojo holds onto your shoulders and just speeds up making you limp over the bathroom counter and you dont seem to care about the moans any more. his dirty talk is crazy as always

“yeah… hear that? fucking slut dripping all over my cock”, “who’s making you feel this way, hm? who’s fucking you so deep?”, “pretty baby looks so stunnin’ in her black dress talking to some sorcerer … but she looks better stuffed.”

you giggled a little at that one but you have no time to catch ur breath bc hes cumming deep in you and oh my god you arent sure if hes just fuelled by adrenaline or WHAT but he cums so so much in u it gets you dizzy. as with satoru.

“fuck… made to take my cum, yeah?” and he makes sure you know it bc he is immediately hooked when he removes his cock and you’re trying to keep it in yet there’s globs of cum that leave ur pussy and drips to the floor HAHREBW gojo fucking loses it and has to fuck you again until you’re full of his cum.

“look at me in the mirror as i breed you, sweetheart.”, “feel that? got s’much cum jus’ for you”, “ wanna feel this pussy ‘round me until i can’t any more. don’t think little mr. kyoto over there could fuck you this well, right?” he. is. gross. 

snaps pics of ur cum filled cunt after. youre spent, leaning over the counter and exhausted and catching your breath and your eyes widen in panic when gojo gets to his knees again and latches his mouth onto your soaking pussy ….. and eats the cum right outta you! disgusting filthy man oh i need him to do that to me.

the higher ups told u not to come to the next gala dinner LMAOOO

[eccentricallygothic]

Pairing: Dom-Boyfriend!Pedri | Brat girlfriend!You.

Warning(s): D/s dynamics, m!dom, f!sub, power imbalance, Pedri is mean, face slapping, allusions to spanking, blow job, dumbification, humiliation, hair pulling, bondage, allusions to throat fucking, dirty talk, possessive!Pedri, daddy kink, sir kink. Minors do not interact. 

Your cheeks were flush and they stung from the strikes your face had received by the back of your boyfriend's hand due to talking back after doing everything in your power to tick him off. Your eyes were glossy and clouded with lust, lips swollen and mouth agape as you peered up at the male through your lashes. 

“What?” Pedri challenged you, one side of your head trapped in his fist by the hold he had on your hair. “You got something you wanna say to me?” Your form trembled from where it was on all fours between his bare and toned legs, your freshly spanked ass on full display since he had torn your slutty shorts off the moment you had been made to enter his apartment to be punished into compliance. “Well?” His voice was firm and harsh as his darkened eyes glared down at you from where he sat on the couch.

“N- No, sir…” You choked out, your exposed boobs -owing to your torn up tank top- pressing into your arms that Pedri had tied in front of you with what was left of your shorts. 

“That's what I thought” his blunt words only added to the hot tingles in your pussy and you felt more arousal bubble out of your needy hole. “Now come here and do the only thing you're good for” you were led to his angry cock by the clump of your hair he had coiled around his fingers. You stuck your tongue out obediently and gave kitten licks to the girth of his cock.

“That's it” your face dangled to the side when his fingers connected with your face once more. “See? Everything is so much easier when you're face first into my cock like you are meant to be” two of his fingers rudely intruded your mouth and you moaned at the feeling of your lips stretching around them, the cavity submissively tightening itself around them and sucking them clean of your precum that had covered his hands during your spanking which had included your poor throbbing pussy. “Not trying to be a smart mouth or anything and just serving your purpose by getting your pretty trap fucked stupid by your Daddy” your cunt blinked at his condescending words. 

Your ill behavior had started off as a joke when he had gotten his Euros win haircut and mustache a couple days ago. You would complain and bully him, tell him you didn't recognize him anymore and he wasn't your Pedri, tease him that he had lost his attractiveness and that you planned to run away the first chance you got. Since he knew you were just a spoilt, all talk brat, your boyfriend had ignored it and taken it in good humour until today when you had simply gone too far. The two of you and some of your friends had met up for lunch and a few minutes in you had began to babble about his hair to your company. But Pedri had still been lenient as well as patient. He knew you well enough to know if wasn’t coming from a bad place. And so when you hadn't been able to pull a strong reaction from him like you had been wanting to all this time, you had begun to playfully flirt with Fermin, going so far as to joke about moving on with him.

That, Pedri could not have.

And so here you were now.

Disciplined into submission by your Daddy.

“S- Sorry, sir…” You spoke with difficulty when he dragged his fingers out of your mouth and pulled them all the way down your bottom lip, giving you a swift smack when he was done. 

“No you're not” he knew you too well. “But you will be by the time I am donw with you.” Your jaw ticked and your cheeks squished against his muscular thighs when he pushed your head down on his cock. “After all, that's what Daddy is for, right?” Your flared nostrils tickled when he bottomed out in your mouth and his pubes touched your soft skin. “To wisen up his silly little girl” his words and the flex of his fingers across your face were tender. But his intentions weren't. 

And as Pedri unplugged your mouth to angrily shove his heavy balls to be sucked at in your mouth while angrily pumping his cock in his fist, you knew your poor throat had a long night to go.

.

i have been meaning to do this ever since the haircut omg! 

[hughiecampbelle]

Baby Blue (Billy Butcher Oneshot)

Character/s: Butcher

Word Count: 1,014

Requested: Butcher fic request with Descriptions 16 (sing) and 43 (thunder and lightning) and Dialogue 5 (You're staring)? love your writing!!! - anon

A/N: My love!!! Thank you for requesting!!! My mind immediately went to the fluffiest place imaginable!! I love writing about storms and nature and the weather, I feel like I could describe it a thousand different ways, it brings me so much joy!! I hope you like it :D Feedback is always appreciated!! 💜💜💜

Requests are open! 🔮

The thunder bashes her fists against the apartment windows. Tonight, she and her twin throw their duel tantrums. You are restless, checking the baby monitor, making sure they’re still asleep. Tossing and turning, he sleeps soundly beside you. Stonelike, dead, you watch his back rise and fall, thankful he is still breathing. Thankful he is still around. The rain falls in sheets. You can hear it crash into the pavement below you, the streets and sidewalks, alongside the midnight traffic. Everyone rushing to get out of it, to get home, somewhere familiar and dry and warm. The lightning flashes for a moment, a second, illuminating the bedroom. There’s no hiding from him. The room is messy. Laundry sits overflowing from the basket. His clothes are left in a trail leading to the bed. He’d gotten home an hour ago, maybe two, exhausted. He climbed in beside you, falling asleep quickly. There are toys, and clothes, and shoes strewn across the place. A suitcase sits opened, empty, by the closet. You haven’t packed yet.

You wanted one more night.

You don’t realize you’ve fallen asleep until you wake up to the sound of crying. You pull the blankets back, moving quietly, not wanting to wake him, to disturb him. Through the hall, you find your way to the nursery. Butcher painted it for you before the baby was born, a soft sky blue. It was comforting then, but in the heart of the storm, it seemed dreary. Dreadful. He put together the crib too, swearing when he lost a tiny little screws, apologizing later. It made you laugh, though. He was so worried about being a bad influence. He even bought him a stuffed bulldog you both decided to name Terror. Terror slept in the crib with the baby. After two years, he’s been loved deeply. His missing button eye and frayed ears are proof of that. The baby wails, kicking his feet from under the blanket, fussing. Between sobs they call for you, their baby talk interrupted by gasps for air. You pick him up, hushing him, rubbing his back and reassuring him it would be okay. He was safe. The storm could not reach him. You stood by the window, showing him how the rain fell down the glasses. They're racing, you told him, showed him. Against your chest and shoulder, his body moved with his hiccups.

Butcher called your name. He sounded sleepy, urging you back to bed. When the baby had calmed down enough, when he was soothed enough, you walked back to your bedroom. You brought Terror, too. You placed him in between you, watching him smile up at Butcher. Your whole world was wrapped in this bed, this room. Outside the world was dark, brutal, unforgiving. The trees swayed in the wind, pulled to one side, the leaves torn from their mother's branches. Something in your breastbone spread, a kind of hurt one could only feel watching this sort of thing. You turned your attention towards Butcher instead. He shook Terror, barking for him, “biting” his chubby cheeks. The baby laughed and squealed. It was your favorite sound.

You listened to the thunder, the screaming, the fight she was putting up to be heard. You understood. You didn't like that it had scared him, the baby, but you got it. A begging to be believed. A sort of desperation. That's what everyone wanted. Lying on your side, you watched them, wanting this to last forever. Despite the bags under his bloodshot eyes, Butcher was all easy smiles. He whispered to the baby, afraid of anything louder. He placed his hand over their chest, feeling the flutter of their heartbeat. In return, he watched him, his bright, wide eyes taking him in. The baby cooed his name: DaDa, DaDa, DaDa. Drool seeped through Terrors ear as he spoke. His teething was coming to an end. You were grateful for this.

You're staring, Butcher says a little louder, pulling you from your thoughts. Sorry, you say, though you're not really sorry. His hair sticks up in all different directions. He's got a boyish quality to him you've always loved. He prides himself on having a hard outer shell, impenetrable, but the second he sees you and the baby, he melts. He's not as bulletproof as he likes to believe. Between you, the baby falls asleep eventually. You watch as you have watched Butcher: their chest moving up and down beneath his onesie. Neither of you talk, not wanting to ruin the moment. It's not often you get to do this: sit in silence, be in one another's company. It isn't often Butcher is content, serene. Instead he fills the space with jokes and quips. He doesn't do well without noise. He doesn't try it this time, though. You're wondering the same thing: how many more of these moments will you get?

Tomorrow, when the sun rises, he will go back to work. When he gets home, you won't be there. Neither will the baby. You will do as you have been instructed. You will pack a light. You will pack enough. You will get out of the city while there is still time. He's kept your family secret long enough, but Homelander is looking for you. He is looking for any excuse, any soft spot, any vulnerability to take Butcher down. You won't call, or text. You'll use another name, a different one, and you will disappear. If, not when, it is over he will find you. You're not sure how, but he promises he will. Everything he wants to say, every apology and fear and worry, they go unsaid. Not safe, but selfishly he wants to believe so. Foolishly, he wants to tell you not to go, not to leave him. That'd be silly. That'd be stupid. If you want your son to grow up, this is the only way to ensure that. He doesn't want to ruin the moment. Instead he fights off sleep, wanting to savor the moment a little longer. You and Baby Billy, together with him.

[neoarchipelago]

And they were Roommates (part 9)

A/N: and i'm back. I'm trying to finish this big moment of the story before going back to molre fluff, smuttyness and calmer stuff. I'll alternate between that. Thanks to everyone who gave me feedbacks, it really helps. Also i'm just shocked how this taglist grows everyday. I see all your comments, i'm sorry if i don't answer all of them, i love ya'll!

WARNINGS: 18+ CONTENT, violence and smexy scenes, bewaree!

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You blinked your eyes open. Your head was pounding. The bright lights weren't helping at all. Voices..you could hear voices. You turned your head to take in your surroundings. You were in a hospital room. You could recognize the medical care area. You tried to remember what happened. You were… attacked at the base? Fuck. Your eyes shifted to the voices the whole squad was there. Laswell was here too. Your eyes filled with tears. They came for you. 

You looked at the couch next to the bed. 

"Reaper…" you tried in a rasp. 

Everyone turned to you in a flash. 

That simple word had felt like you were ripping apart your own throat. 

"Fucking hell Y/N!" Simon growled. 

Everyone rushed to your side. 

"Are you alright?" Kate asked, worry clearly tainting her voice. 

You nodded slightly.  

"Let me call the doc." Price said. 

You wanted to roll your eyes. Your eyes shifted to Simon. You smiled at him. 

You came… you mouthed.

"You called." 

The doc walked in, stepping towards you. He checked you up, giving you some medicine for your head and throat as you had tried your best to describe where it hurt and some water. You were fine. The squad had intervened very fast. You had to rest though. You wouldn't be able to speak for a little while. The angry bruises on your neck looked quite bad, but fuck it, you were alive. You had to stay in the hospital for a few days to make sure everything was fine. 

Talking was a no for a little while, probably a few days, so you got creative.

Did you guys catch the guy? You wrote on your phone before showing the screen to the team. 

"Yes." Soap answered seriously. 

"Ghost shot him on sight." Gaz said in the same tone.

You turned to look at him as he stood, arms crossed looking at you. You smiled at him. It could have been a good source of information. But you understood his move. You even found peace in his violence. He didn't hesitate a second to kill for you. 

What are we going to do? You wrote again. 

"Right now you do nothing." Laswell answered. You had never heard such a tone in her voice. 

"You rest. You do nothing. This time squad 141 had been tasked to keep you safe and I won't take no for an answer. It's an order and it's already been acted." 

You looked at Ghost. He was unreadable. But you could still feel how uneasy he was feeling.

You sighed and nodded. You weren't going to complain. 

Soap and gaz left a bit later, going to rest before taking their shift in your room to watch over you. Ghost was staying obviously, he hadn't even sat down yet. 

Laswell and Price hovered over you like hawks. Laswell looked absolutely torned. 

Kate it wasn't your fault. You wrote 

"Y/N. You are under my responsibility. Putting aside the contract, you matter so much to me and I've failed to keep you safe."

You wrote furiously, hating the fact that your voice would burn your throat. 

This isn't the first time, you can't always protect me. 

"I know I can't always protect you. But fuck you are literally on a military base, and someone tried to kill you. Our part of the contract with you is to keep you safe and away from harm as you put yourself on the first line against the worst." She said, her eyes glistening softly. 

You took her hand in yours, smiling at her. You didn't want her to cry. You'd cry too. 

"We were right there. We were supposed to keep you safe too. Everyone's on edge." Price added. 

You looked at him. Something flashed through your mind. Simon. He probably was feeling furious, thinking you disobeyed him and this happened. This time you tried blinking the tears away. You took back your hand, typing something on your phone. Your eyes then searched Simon's ones, and he immediately walked to you. 

You turned the screen towards him, a heartbroken expression on your face, a tear escaping what should have been their prison. 

I'm sorry

He frowned. 

"No." 

You bit your lip. 

"Don't you dare apologize, you hear me?" He growled. 

"No, Y/N, this isn't your fault…" Kate added. 

You nodded frantically, of course it was. He was after you. You were causing such a mess. 

"No, no hey, you're ok, don't beat yourself up for someone else's actions. You are being hunted down." Price softly said. 

You were fully crying now. You felt so bad and so guilty. Ghost looked absolutely out of himself, you could feel his hands softly shaking on your leg. You caused this. 

"Hey, hey. Look at me. Bunny. I said, Look at me." 

You finally gave in. His hands rose to your face, cupping it softly. You noticed the obvious bruises and blood on his knuckles. 

"It. Is. Not. Your. Fault."

You blinked, letting tears fall again. 

"Do you understand? No one. And I say NO ONE. Is holding you accountable for this situation."

You closed your eyes leaning into his touch. He wrapped his arms around you, you buried your face in his chest, trying to ignore the ache coming from your throat. He softly brushed your hair, calming you down. 

You took a deep breath gaining composure. You separated, wiping your tears away. 

"Rest now. Alright?" 

You nodded. 

"Lieutenant Riley and I will take the first watch." Price said. 

Laswell nodded. Price walked her out of the room. You remained with Simon. You looked up at him as he glanced at you. A hand rose to hover over your jawline, eyes fixated on your bruised throat. You grabbed his hand, rubbing your cheek against it, trying to comfort him. 

"I fucked up. You got hurt while in my care." He said. 

You shook your head softly. 

"Yes. You were."  He took a deep breath. 

"Listen to me now. You are my mission from now on. Do you understand?" 

You frowned. 

"I'm going to keep you safe, even if I have to burn this base down." 

You shivered. 

"But I'm also going to be very professional. Do you understand?" 

You look puzzled. 

"No more bunny. No more Simon… I'm gonna be cold. Tactical. Don't take it personally please." 

You pouted. 

He smirked under the mask. 

"I promise. I'll take care of this, and then we'll enjoy each other." 

You rubbed your cheek against his hand again. 

"Darling… look at me. Do you understand? From now on, it's going to be Ghost. You're gonna have to be a good girl, and obey. Alright?" 

You looked up at him, nodding. 

"Good." 

You grabbed your phone, typing up. 

Can I still wear your hoodie… it comforts me… 

He chuckled.

"Yes. You can wear my hoodies. I'll still be here, I'm not leaving, ever. I'll just… my head's going to be focused on a target." 

You nodded. You were understanding that. You weren't going to fight over this. You still felt absolutely guilty and terrible. You just wanted for this to be over. Usually, when you were the target, you often ended up in almost similar situations, though this time you had been careless. You truly would have been dead if it wasn't for the squad having your back. 

You had let yourself go on the fact that you were on a military base and you thought you were perfectly safe. 

"Come on, rest now. Price and I are here." 

You smiled at him and nodded. You let yourself fall back into your pillow. He brushed a few strands of hair away from your face before turning and walking to the door meeting Laswell and Price outside. 

You looked at the ceiling thinking about the events. You were trying to remember everything that happened during the attack, something that might bring a memory, a piece of information. But the more you thought about it, the heavier your eyes became. You were exhausted. But also frustrated. The ache in your throat was a reminder of what was wrong. Was that guy's darkends? No. He wouldn't have put himself in danger like that.

You had to find darkends. You had to get to him. But how? Especially now that you were being watched constantly by squad 141. 

You closed your eyes. Swallowing felt really painful. You were thankful for the medication who was starting to numb the pain. You tried to stay awake but we're slowly being lulled to sleep. 

Did they walk back in? You were sure you could hear their voices… Did they put Reaper next to you? You could hug something fluffy now. You weren't sure, you were tired. You fell asleep. 

During the night, you woke up, feeling something heavy on you. You blinked looking down. You were absolutely shocked, Simon was cuddling you, his head over your stomach and his legs in between yours. He was hugging your waist. Price was outside, you could see his shadow through the blurred glass window. You smiled, letting your hand fall on Simon's head, softly caressing it through the mask. His grip around your waist tightened. 

"Hush… go to sleep Y/N." 

You smiled. You wanted to ask what happened to being professional? But you couldn't. Though he seemed to read your mind. 

"Let me just stay like this a bit… you're here. I almost fucking lost you-" 

You let your hand go to his cheeks caressing it and the other on his forearm. He sighed. 

"Sleep…" 

You smiled, closing your eyes again. It felt warm. Amazing to have him against you like this. You were falling back asleep, trapped in between the land of dream and reality. The world around you was a blur… 

My little bunny

After a full week you were discharged. Kate had completely refused to let you return to your apartment. Instead, a small space right at the center of the base had been converted into a living space. The small building had been made so the higher sergeant or lieutenant could catch a break and had a small kitchen and a bathroom and two small rooms that were previously offices. The two small rooms had been emptied and a bed, and a few other pieces of furniture were occupying the space. One of the rooms had bunk beds and a single bed so the boys could sleep. 

Soap had nicely brought things from your apartment, though Simon was the only one to touch your clothes… because… underwear. You had some blankets, your laptops, chargers, Reaper obviously, some hygiene products and mostly, Simon had brought you a few of his hoodies. 

You were bored. The boys wouldn't let you do anything on your own except go to the bathroom and shower. 

The doctor had run multiple tests, luckily, the strand of plastic that had wrapped around your neck had mostly cut the flow of air, bruised and burned your skin thanks to the fabric laced around the cable. The boys had very luckily found you fast enough and made sure that you were breathing. The bruises were still very visible, you tried to hide it  but it was pointless. Your voice was slowly coming back but talking was still a challenge so you kept using your phone to talk to the team. 

You wanted to do something, maybe walk around. You kept searching on your laptop, sending any bit of information to the rest of the IT team. Laswell kept nagging you, she wanted you to completely withdraw from the mission. You had refused, after all you were the one being hunted. 

After a few days, they had finally found the identity of the attacker, a soldier from base. He had no particular link to you or the mission, so you asked Laswell to bring his electronics. You spent hours on the small table in the makeshift living room, searching through his phone and laptop. It didn't take long to find evidence. 

Pictures, messages, videos, all from missions he had been on. Missions that turned wrong. All used to mentally blackmail and wash his brain into complying. You froze in place when you read one of the messages sent by darkends. 

And the little bird kept singing to everyone,  and the cat, jealous, made sure it would no longer sing.

That motherfucker. He had completely used that poor guy, just to taunt you? Just to send a message? Fuck, that guy's dead now! You felt incredibly guilty, closing the laptop with a snap, attracting curious looks your way. 

"Is everything ok?" Soap asked. 

Simon eyed you from a corner of the room. 

You grabbed your phone typing something. 

My throat hurts, I want to speak and I can't. I'm very frustrated. 

You lied. You tried to write something they would accept. 

"Oh, would you like tea?" He offered with a smile. 

You softened your features playing pretend and you nodded, mouthing thank you. 

You, on the other hand, grabbed your own laptop and immediately got to work. You had to secure the team. Their files were confidential, but you wouldn't put it past darkends to manage that exploit. You knew the boys wouldn't betray you, but you'd be damned if they were thrown into a fire you were causing. 

It took a few minutes to get into the protected system and find the files. You knew by now the IT team had been alerted by a breach of security because you weren't being careful. You wanted to encrypt the files until no one, no, one, could open them. You had very little time before someone came rushing through your door, probably Laswell, scolding you. 

You had managed to encrypt everything, living your signature imprint. Soap had given you a warm tea with honey in it and you smiled, this time a true one as you felt relieved. Little over a minute after, the door swung open, startling Price and Soap. 

"What the fuck?!" Laswell yelled. 

You were expecting it. You took a sip of your team, the warmth of it making you feel good and in slight pain. 

"What happened? " Price asked, following her glare straight to you. 

"You hacked the military?! What for??" She was slightly furious. Slightly. 

You opened the soldier's laptop, opening the message wide. You turned the screen to her. Everyone walked to it, reading it. You took this time to write on your phone. 

He's using people against me. I'm not letting him use my friends. 

She read your phone, the boys taking a glance too. 

"Damn right we're friends!" Soap cheered, earning a 'shut up' from Ghost.

"You protected their files?" She finally understood. 

You nodded typing again. 

Sorry I didn't ask, I wanted to do it fast.

She sighed. 

"That's going to be a lot of paperwork…" 

You smiled apologetically.

"You know, we'd never hurt you." Soap said, looking at you. 

You frowned sadly. 

"I know… he'd hurt you…" you tried with a low, shaky voice. It still burnt your throat to speak. But you felt like you needed to say it out loud. You needed to tell them you trusted them with your life. He smiled, running to hug you. You smiled too. There wasn't a doubt in your head, these men would protect you with their lives. You would be fucking damned if you wouldn't protect them at all costs. 

It had been almost three weeks now you were stuck in this little house. Sure, it was fun to spend time with the boys, playing poker or the switch. Unfortunately, as Simon had warned, he was cold. He was very professional and wouldn't participate in the games. It made you sad. You wanted to be in his arms. And in all honesty, you were slightly annoyed, and pouting. One hug. It wouldn't kill him! 

You could feel his eyes on you sometimes. Ghost really had seemed to be taking full control. His gaze was darker. It was thrilling. And you played with it. Especially now that you were bored and annoyed. You wore a tank top, sometimes without bras, your nipples showing through the fabric. He would look absolutely furious. The poor boys were the one paying for your taunts as he threw murderous glances to everyone. You had given up, taking pity on the boys. You'd talk back, you'd be a brat. But he kept it professional. Much to your dismay. 

It had been extremely peaceful. Your bruises were almost faded, but your voice was still shaky. You'd speak a bit more often. But no yelling, no laughing out loud. At least you didn't have to type anymore. 

Nothing had happened. Nothing. Darkends had been silent. You were even wondering if he hadn't given up. It was, however, calm before the storm.

Laswell walked in, three soldiers behind her. Everyone turned to the newcomers, attention on them. 

"We have a problem." 

Price stood from the small couch. 

"Your apartment has been trashed." She continued.

This time she was talking to you. You jumped from the chair. 

"No. No. You are not coming." She warned.

"What..?" You hated how weak your voice was. 

"Ghost, Soap and price, you're coming with me, Sparrow you'll be staying with these recruits for the next few hours. Gaz and Konig will also join them soon." 

You frowned. That was ridiculous! You were going to say it out loud before Ghost spoke. 

"No. Stay." 

You looked at him. You wanted to scream but you just looked angrily at him. 

"Get mad if you want. Wouldn't change shit." He fumed. 

You gasped, shocked. 

You flipped him the bird, earning a terrifying glance from him and a laugh from Soap. You ran to your room, locking the door behind you. God! Your blood was boiling. They wanted to protect you, sure. But it was your mission. You wanted to be part of it. 

You heard them as they left. You needed to do something. You needed to go there with them. It was your house! Your home. Your eyes stopped on the window. This was a long shot. A very long one. But fuck you needed to try it. You opened it, taking a look outside. You could see the cars not too far. The gears in your mind were turning. Was there any way you could run and hide in the trunk? 

Fuck. It was either staying in your room, or giving it a try. The worst that could happen is Ghost finding you and… who knows. 

You slipped through the window, thanking whatever you could that the ground wasn't too far from your feet. Walking to the corner of the building you took a peek. Laswell was having some kind of pep talk. You looked at the car in front of you. You had to run, hide behind it, open the trunk as discreetly as possible and hide in it. 

You took a deep breath, hunching down and making a run for it. 

You couldn't believe it. It worked. You were behind the jeep. Now was not the time to get cold feet, you had to act fast. You slowly unlocked it, cringing at the lock's noise. You opened it slightly just enough to roll your body inside. Now closing it was the hardest part. And then there it was. Price and Laswell barking orders loudly. Loud enough to cover the sound of the trunk closing. So you did, not wasting this chance.

You exhaled. God. You couldn't believe this. The car shook as the doors opened. You froze, eyes widening. 

Fuck fuck fuck fuck. 

People got in. By the voices, Soap, Ghost Price and someone else. 

The way the car rolled out of parking, you knew Ghost was driving. It was going to be a long ride. 

And it had been. You were sure to have a few bruises when you'd get out. When the car finally stopped you almost thanked the skies for it. The guys got out. Now you had to get out. An idea popped in your head. You took your phone out texting Soap. 

Soap. Trunk. Don't tell Ghost. 

What? 

TRUNK. 

You waited. It was long. What was he doing?! 

And suddenly the trunk opened. Soap looked absolutely horrified. You would have laughed.  But also looked horrified when he closed the trunk right back. What the…?! 

You knocked on the trunk repeatedly to make him open again. And he did, still wide eyed and now looking around to see if anyone was looking. 

"What are you doing here?!" He said in the loudest hushed whisper ever. 

"I'm going to see my apartment!" You answered in the same tone, glad to be talking in a low voice. You rolled and jumped out of the trunk. 

"Nonononononono…." He whispered-yelled again. 

"Yes. Yes. Yes." You claimed looking straight at him. 

"LT is going to kill us! You for disobeying and me for hiding you from him!" He hushed again. 

You rolled your eyes. 

"You're fine!" You whispered-yelled too. 

You passed right by him heading straight to your building. 

"Sparrow! No!! Fuck!" 

You kept heading up, now fully visible to everyone Soap running up to you. He looked visibly unwell. You promised yourself to take the fall for him. You were climbing the stairs, every soldier now noticing you and looking a mix of shock and terror as you passed by. It made you uneasy. You started to worry about Ghost's reaction too. But now was no time to worry. You were here, you were going to investigate. 

Finally reaching your apartment door you stepped inside. The first one to see you was price. And the first thing you noticed, was that the place wasn't trashed at all. 

"Y/N!" Price reprimanded. 

You stopped. Fuck. He could have said anything. A 'why are you here', or 'what the fuck' or anything else. But your name? It attracted him. He almost came running from the hallway. When your eyes locked, the only thing you wanted to do was run. He immediately rushed to you picking you up, throwing you over his shoulder. 

"No!" You tried.

You pounded on his back, though he clearly didn't seem to care. He started heading towards the door. In a last attempt you grabbed someone's arm. Laswell. 

"Lieutenant." 

He stopped. You closed your eyes, sighing with relief.

"Please put her down." 

He took a second, his breathing had quickened, but he put you down, not softly, you had to get your balance back. 

You frowned at him. A staring match starting. 

"Sparrow." Laswell reasoned. 

You looked at her. 

"Why are you here? How did you even?" She asked. 

"It's. My. Mission. My house Kate." You explained. Your voice kept at a normal level, even though rage coursed through your mind. 

She opened her mouth but your cut her off. 

"It's my life on the line." She looked taken aback. "Don't keep me out of this." 

She seemed to think for a second. Finally, she nodded slightly. You relaxed your shoulders, turning to look at Ghost. He truly looked furious. But so were you. You stuck your tongue out at him. 

"You little-" 

You turned your back on him turning to Laswell. 

"The place was supposed to be trashed." You noted. 

For a second hey eyes faltered. You immediately understood. Your room. You headed down the hall, stepping inside your bedroom. You weren't prepared for what you saw. The tags on the walls, the room completely trashed. Your belongings everywhere, on the floor, broken or ripped apart. You didn't even have to guess. The words 'you're mine birdie' had been spray painted all over the walls. You looked to the floor, kicking the head of one of your stuffed animals that seemed to be missing his body. 

"Are you alright?" Kate asked, showing up next to you. 

You shrugged. 

"It's just some objects. I'm fine. It's going to take forever to fix it though." 

You walked to your built PC, completely broken. 

"This, however, breaks my heart." 

She chuckled. 

"We'll pay for a new one. I promise." 

You smiled at her. You checked the broken components. Your hard drive was still there. Nothing had been stolen. This was just for show. 

"Anything?" She asked. 

"Nothing. Nothing's been stolen. This was on purpose, to send a message." You said. 

She sighed. 

"The question now is, was it him or did he have another puppet?" She wondered.

Ghost walked in. For some reason. You knew you were fucked. And not in a good way. 

"May I take her now? I'd like to have a chat with her in the bathroom" He asked. 

You looked panicked, looking at Kate for help. She grinned. 

"Absolutely. She's all yours lieutenant." 

"What?" You said, voice barely above normal. You tried not to force your voice and you hated it.

"What? You thought we'd leave you unpunished?" She asked. 

"What the fu-" 

You didn't have time to finish, in two steps he crossed the space in between you two grabbing your wrist and dragging you with him. Kate pretended to look away at something much more interesting.

"Traitor!" You threw as you exited the room.

Your heart beat rose as you approached the bathroom. You felt everyone's gaze as you were shoved inside, Ghost behind you. You turned around to look at him, mouth gasping as you saw him lock the door.

When his eyes met yours you shivered. You didn't exactly know if it was fear or anticipation.  He crossed his arms over his chest. He had rolled up his sleeves, his muscles flexing. 

"You don't fucking listen." 

You gazed back into his eyes. 

"For the past week, you've been bratting non-stop." He stepped forward, now inches from you. 

You frowned, trying to have some kind of composure in front of him. 

"What's wrong bunny? Cat got your tongue?" 

God you felt yourself melt. Bunny… the last time he called you like that was in the hospital. 

"I'm sure I saw it moments ago in the living room though. Such a big mouth yet very little action. Once it's only the two of us, you melt down"  

That motherf-

"Fuck you Ghost." You spat, mouth running faster than your brain.

He chuckled. A very dark one. He grabbed your wrists, made your arms fold behind your back and twisted you so you were back to him, staring into the bathroom mirror. He was right behind you staring right back at you. Your cheeks burned. Fuck… 

"You want my attention. That's what you fucking want." He spoke in a low grunt, right next to your ear. You closed your eyes. 

"Eyes on me." He ordered. 

You opened them looking at him in the mirror.

"Good girl." He praised. "If you want attention, now you have it. You have my whole attention." He growled. 

He held your wrist with one hand only. Fuck he was so big compared to you. His other hand rose to your mouth. 

"Bite it. Take off my glove." 

You frowned. 

"If I have to repeat myself, you're going to regret it." He warned. 

You opened your mouth slowly. His clothed fingers touching your lips. You grabbed the fabric in between your teeth and he wiggled his hand out. He grabbed it as you let it drop. 

"See. You can be such a good girl. But no. All you wanted was my attention. You couldn't fucking handle seeing me right there not touching you." 

The more he spoke the warmer you felt. What was he doing? What was happening… 

"S-simon…" you let out. 

"Wrong. Try again."

Fuck… 

"Ghost…" you whined. 

"Yes. Ghost. I told you it was going to be like this. That I was going to be professional." He explained.

His naked fingers reached your lips again. 

"Open." 

You blushed, eyes widening a bit. 

"Bunny." He warned. 

Your lips parted slowly. 

"Stick your tongue out. Go on. You seem to like doing it in front of everyone, so do it for me." 

You obeyed. Two of his fingers touched your tongue, softly applying pressure. The rest of his hand enveloping your chin.

You whined. 

"I told you. I warned you. And yet you walk around half fucking naked in front of my men just to rile me up." He hissed. 

His hand lingered there. The more your mouth was open, the harder it was to swallow, his fingers getting wetter by the second. 

"My mind is fucking stuck in killing mode. And you rile me up bunny? Congratulations, you might be the only one to manage to fucking turn on Ghost." 

You couldn't believe it. You had turned him on. You had been torturing him. Fuck, the way he looked at you. 

"Do you know how many times I wanted to bend you over the table and fuck you in front of everyone? Just to fucking show them who you belong to?" 

You bent your back, trying to grind unto him, his little confession having much more effect on you than you wanted. However he didn't allow it, backing off without letting you go. 

"Oh no little bunny. Do you like that thought?" He chuckled again. 

You were obviously drooling all over his hand. Not that it seemed to bother him. 

"Fuck… look at you little one. So fucking pretty for me. So obedient. The only reason I'm not deep throating you with my fingers, that I'm not wrapping my hand around your pretty neck, it's that it's too soon. I don't want to hurt my little doll." 

Ok. Now you were wet. That asshole was torturing you just like you did to him. You closed your eyes, whining again. 

"Look. At. Me." He ordered again. 

You obeyed. You looked at him, pleading. You didn't even know what you were pleading for.

"Are you going to be a good girl now? Are you going to behave for me?" He asked in a vanilla voice that contrasted a lot with the way he was holding you. 

You whined again, trying to nod your head. 

"Fuck. Look what mess you made of my hand… go on. Suck on my fingers." 

You looked a bit shocked again but he held your gaze. Your lips wrapped around him as you retracted your tongue. You sucked softly, using your tongue to lick your saliva off his fingers. 

"Fuck bunny… such a good girl." 

The way he praised you, his own voice laced with desire. This situation had escalated quickly.

He took back his finger, wiping your chin. He sighed. His now free hand traveled to your waist, his arm now wrapping around it. The other let go of your wrists, letting you bring your arms back to your chest. He hugged you tightly from behind, hiding his face in your neck. 

"I-I'm sorry…" 

You blinked. Did you really hear that? 

"Ghost…" 

"I'm sorry… I… got off track." 

You smiled. 

"It's ok… it was… nice" you tried. 

He looked back up at the mirror. 

"Really. I trust you. You… can do those things to me…" you looked away. You couldn't hold his gaze anymore. What the hell were you saying? 

"Don't say shit like that bunny… I'm gonna loose my fucking mind with you. I'm on mission fuck." 

His embrace tightened, his hands traveling a bit closer to places you craved. You had been wanting this. His arms. Being in his hold. This was even more than you had wished for. 

Your phone buzzed. You couldn't see the screen but he did. And whatever he read there, brought him back to reality. 

"God fucking damn it!" He cursed. 

That woke you up too. He let go of you and headed out of the door. You blinked. You took your phone in your hand. 

Hi birdie, I'm coming.

What the? You opened the message log. How? How did he get so close now? Another message showed. 

The little bird, no longer singing, was sad. The wolf took pity and swore to protect the birdie. The cat, growing even more jealous, swore that he'd take her from him. 

You shivered. You had to be honest. That guy was frightening. A complete psycho. And he just ruined your moment so fuck him. You walked out, everyone was already running everywhere. 

"Sparrow, you're going back to base right now." Price announced. 

You nodded, not wanting to discuss this. You choose your battles and this wasn't one you wanted to win. Laswell walked to you, hand forward asking for your phone. You gave it to her for her to read the message that clearly Ghost had already told everyone about. She cursed loudly. 

"Hansen, Soap take her back to base." 

Hansen? Peter was here? You looked at him smiling a bit as he clearly looked anxious. 

"Wait. I'll take her." Ghost interrupted. 

"No. I need you somewhere else lieutenant. They can perfectly bring her to safety." She refused. 

Ghost looked annoyed, his hands turning into fists. 

"I'll be with her LT. I'm keeping her safe." Soap said. 

It warmed your heart. Peter simply nodded, still looking on the verge of having a panic attack. 

"Good. Now go!" Laswell ordered. 

You smiled at Ghost as you followed Soap and Peter out. 

You headed down the stairs to the parking lot, the two men closely watching you and your surroundings. 

"We can take my car" Peter offered. 

Soap frowned but nodded. Peter unlocked his car, opening the backdoor for you. You hopped in as he closed the door. You closed your eyes, taking a deep breath. You wanted this to end. You needed your calm, boring life back. You wanted to enjoy Simon and continue whatever was happening between the both of you. You also wanted to finally sit down with him and ask him what he truly wanted from you, hoping that he wanted you to be his officially. You needed to hear him say it. 

You opened your eyes back as the car shook a bit. Peter had sat in the driver's seat, turning the car on. 

"Where's Soap?" You asked. 

"The lieutenant called him back." Peter said. 

Really? That was weird… Ghost wouldn't have let you alone with Peter. 

The car moved as you started to head out of the parking spot. You turned in your seat watching through the back window. You felt your heart fall into an abyss when you saw Soap lying on the ground. 

"What the fuck?!" You yelled, too loud for your sore throat. 

You turned back to Peter. He looked different. A new confidence in him that was unfamiliar. 

"Don't worry. He's not dead. Just napping." 

You were confused and suddenly terrified. Did darkends also blackmail Peter ?

"Peter, whatever that guy is blackmailing you with, I can help you. Please." You tried to reason him. 

He laughed. 

"You're adorable. Really. I can't wait to have you all to myself birdie." 

And it clicked. The puzzle pieces finally fit together. How was this even possible? Simon was right. You didn't recognize your own voice as you stated the obvious.

"You're darkends."

____

A/N: my foreshadowing is shit, and ya'll are too smart

[thetriumphantpanda]

LOST IN OUR VICES | ONE

Chapter Summary | A chance encounter with a handsome stranger sets off a chain of events that could all end in disaster. It's hard to say no when it feels so good though.

Pairing | Professor!Marcus Pike x Student F!Reader

Chapter Warnings | Dubious ethical relationship between a professor & student, Marcus tells a lie, mentions of food and alcohol, mentions of academia, academic failure and strained parental relationships, gratuitous descriptions of London because I live here and I love it, some heavy making out and some heavy petting, no use of y/n.

Authors Note | WELL HERE SHE IS. I have no idea how to tell you how much I am loving this so far. Professor Pike has well and truly rotted my brain so y'all have to suffer with me okay? It's gonna be fun, I promise. I would LOVE to know what you all think about this so feel free to scream at me incumbents, reblogs and asks! As always, a huge thank you to @undercoverpena for reading this over and making sure it isn't utter tripe. ILY. And to @saradika for the beautiful divider.

Please follow @thetriumphantpandanotifs for writing updates.

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Ko-Fi

He’s seen her there every day he’s visited the past month. Sitting on the bench, looking up at the same sculpture - a woman carved from marble - sketching into a notepad. He stands this time and watches as her finger tucks some hair behind her ear, brushing it out of her face. She looks up and tilts her head a little, eraser end of her pencil sitting between her teeth as she thinks, tracers a portion of the statue before her head is back down, looking at the page as she continues to draw.

She’s beautiful, there’s no denying it, she’s been beautiful every time he’s seen her. There’s something lonely about her too, the way she sits there on her own, artefacts and artworks for company. She’s just like him really, uprooted from a life he was no longer satisfied with, four years of a PhD and now the letters of Dr before his name. Moved to London, a new city, a fresh start as he’d coined it to his family, but he’s been here three years now, and not one thing that he wanted from his move have materialised. He knows the therapy was good for him, he knows that his haste to find someone was probably what was making him scare people off, but he doesn’t much like the other side of the coin either - a modest flat in London to himself, a small group of friends who sit around and drink beer and droll on about their academic passions, but no-one he can really call his own right now.

Dr. M Pike. Professor of Art History. That’s what his doorplate says, one of many in the small corridor at UCL. Three years and he’s still not quite sure how he made it here, or if it’s really what he wants, but it beats whatever he was doing back in D.C. that’s for sure. It had seemed like the best thing to do at the time, but when Lisbon had told him she wasn’t coming, everything about it seemed wrong, soiled somehow, by the life he’d built in his mind being torn up by someone who, looking back, had never really wanted him in the first place.

He thought about talking to her the first day he’d seen her, but then realised he was actually here to prepare for one of his teaching seminars, so squirrelled himself away to another room instead. The second time he’d seen her, she’d looked too engrossed on whatever she was working on, and then every other time, he’s convinced himself she’s here for peace, not to be bothered by some random man. But there’s something about the way she is today that makes the pull harder to resist, so he says fuck it, shoves his hands into his trouser pockets and walks over.

“You come here often?”

It’s an American accent that pulls you from your work. His voice jolts your hand, makes you press your pencil into paper too hard and at the wrong angle. You suck in a deep breath, try not to think about the hours of work he’s just ruined by startling you. You’re about to turn around and complain when he comes into your vision.

He’s tall, broad shoulders covered in a light dress shirt, two buttons undone so you can see a flash of tanned skin and a smattering of hair. It’s tucked into dark jeans, a belt keeping them tight to his trim waist. And then there’s his face - a beard, but only just and friendly brown eyes, a full mouth too. He’s handsome, there’s no way around it.

“Sorry, that was awful,” The mystery man scratches the back of his neck, “I just come here a lot and I think I’ve seen you here every time for the past month.”

You smile at that, that you’re someone he’s been picking out amongst the crowd of tourists who always come here, someone familiar to him, even if he’s not the same to you.

“I’m just working on something.” You shrug, letting your palm slyly cover the sketch you’ve been making.

The man walks in front of you slightly, takes a seat on the vacant spot on the bench and looks up at the woman carved from marble, “She’s beautiful.” He muses.

“She is.” You agree, looking over the curves of her hips, the way the marble has been carved to make it look like her clothes are wet, sticking to her breasts like she’s just climbed out of the Aegean Sea.

“You like sculpture then?”

“I do,” You nod, turning your body a little towards him, “It’s not my first artistic passion, but I’m studying for my PhD at the moment and it’s all about the female form in marble.”

“Brains as well as beauty,” He smirks a little at you, “Sounds interest though, where are you studying?”

“UCL,” You beam, because you’re proud, it wasn’t easy, you’d been rejected for your first choice research project the first time around, encouraged to choose something else from the feedback, but you were there now, and that’s what mattered, “What about you?” You ask, “What do you do that means you have to be here as much as me?”

He shrugs a little, “I teach.”

It’s vague but you don’t press, he owes you nothing, so you let it lie. You turn back to the sculpture in front of you, when your stomach grumbles. You look down at your watch. It’s 2pm and you’ve not eaten anything yet.

“Hungry?”

“Starving.” You reply meekly.

“Want to grab something to eat?” He asks, “I know a great Italian place in Soho if you fancy it?”

You look at him, eyes tightening a little. It’s been so long since anyone has shown you an ounce of interest, and now the beautiful man in a shirt and dress pants wants to take you for lunch, it all seems a bit too good to be true. But, you can hear the voice of your therapist tell you to say yes to more things, take more risks in life because not all of them are going to turn out to be bad, so you flip the front of your notepad over to cover your drawing and reach down to pick up your backpack.

“Lead the way.”

He doesn’t disappoint. Over the course of a glass of wine and a bowl of olives, you coax out his name. It’s Marcus. He’s got a PhD in Art History and moved to London from D.C. three years ago. He lives alone, near Notting Hill, he likes it because he can go searching for antiques on the weekend. He wants a dog, but he spends too much time out of the house to justify one. He likes to read and he can cook, but prefer eating out or ordering in because he’s not mastered the art of cooking for one.

When a waiter sets down your second glass of wine and your food - gnocchi with pesto and bacon for you and carbonara from Marcus, he turns the conversation back to you, sipping wine as he ask you where you live - Willesden Green, so not far from you - who you live with - myself, my dad was so proud I got into my course he pays for my rent, it’s the only way he can show he loves me - what you like to do with your free time - free time? When I have it, I read, or I walk, or I sit and draw sculptures in museums.

You don’t know whether it’s the wine or not, but the dark winter sinks in, outside cloaked in black, lights dimmed inside, and it makes him even more handsome than he was before. He makes you laugh, with his stories of his own PhD stress, how he would walk the streets of D.C. at 3am to get coffee and pancakes on his way back from the library and then collapse into bed and sleep for two hours until his alarm would wake him up and he would go all the way back to the library to do it again.

“If I ever get to that point,” You muse, stabbing a piece of gnocchi onto your fork, “I don’t think I’ll have the will to make it through.”

“You seem far too organised to me to fall into the bad habits I had.” He shrugs, looking at you over his own glass of wine as you take a bite of your food, too busy watching him to really notice the angle of your fork, green sauce smearing on the corner of your mouth as you fight it into your mouth.

Before you have a chance to reach down and grab the napkin from your lap, Marcus is reaching over the table, using the pad of his thumb to wipe the stray sauce away. It’s something that under any other circumstance would make you feel uncomfortable, but all it really makes you want to do is kiss him, especially when he apologises profusely for being so forward.

He pays for dinner, insists on it really, hidden behind the excuse that he knows how hard it is to live whilst studying. He takes you for cocktails at a bar on the end of Old Compton Street - orders himself an old fashioned whilst you opt for an amaretto sour. The bar is dark and busy, the only seats are in a corner, sat so close together your knees are touching and your shoulder is slightly leaned into his side.

“So, you said you got rejected from your first choice course?” He muses, taking a short sip of his drink.

You shrug with a nod, “I wanted to research the impressionist movement,” You start to explain, “I love Monet and Renoir but I think my research application was too broad,” Sipping your own drink you carry on talking, “There’s a great academic at UCL, Professor Pike, I was desperate to have him as my supervisor, but it wasn’t meant to be.”

You turn your head a little, watching as Marcus swallows on nothing, quickly taking another sip of his drink.

“It’s okay,” You hasten to add, “I guess if I’m not writing thousands of words about it, it won’t make me hate what I love most.”

“Smart,” Is what he says with a smirk, “You would have given him a run for his money anyway.”

“Do you know him?” You ask, “I know all of you academic types are familiar with each other.”

He swallows on nothing again, “I’ve heard of him but I don’t think we’ve ever met.”

You both order another drink, sit around talking about nothing much at all, slowly moving closer as the bar gets busier, you tell yourself it’s just so you can hear him better, but he smells good, some kind of musky cologne that suits him really well, so you don’t complain about soaking it up.

When it gets late, he offers to take you home, keep you company on the tube. You know it’s not really necessary, you’ve never felt particularly unsafe walking home from the station, but if it means spending more time with him, then you don’t really mind. He lets you take the only free seat on the tube, standing in the aisle just in front of your knees so he can keep talking to you, and when you reach the other side, he walks close to you, puts a hand on your lower back which you can feel through your jacket when a group of people walk past you a little too close. He even insists on walking you to your door.

It’s quiet in the building, like it usually is. It’s only recently been built and you think you’re one of only a few people who are currently living there. You pluck your keys from your coat pocket when you reach your door, leaning your back against it.

“This is me.”

“Nice place.”

“Yeah, although I usually prefer places with more character.”

He’s stood right in front of you, rocking on his heels, that same nervous hand on the back of his neck as this afternoon, “I know this might seem weird, but would you like to go on a date sometime?”

You can help but snort a laugh, shaking your head a little, before you meet his eyes, “This wasn’t a date?” You ask coyly.

He smirks a little, cheeks flushing a little, “Did you want it to be a date?”

“I wouldn’t have let you take me for lunch if I didn’t,” You say, “But there is one thing missing.”

“Oh yeah?” He hums, “What’s that?”

Instead of speaking, you take a step forward, hands gripping the lapels of his jacket as you press up onto your toes and plant your lips on his. It’s clumsy and it’s impulsive, but you’ve wanted to do it all day. You can feel his arms wrapping around your back, dragging your body flush to his as he opens his mouth against yours right as you do the same. He tastes like mint from the gum he’s been chewing and the whisky from his drinks - it’s all you can think about as he walks you back, presses you against the door as his tongue meets with yours.

You’re thankful no-one is around. Your arms move from his jacket to wrap around the back of his neck, fingers tangling in the curls there as you tilt your head to one side, a slight smacking sound from your lips as the disconnect, only to come back together seconds later. He’s good at this, you think, as his hands drop from your back to rest in the pockets on the back of your jeans, palms warm through the material. You can feel him squeeze you there a little, and you’re so close to saying fuck it and inviting him in, because if his lips are this good against yours, you can’t imagine what they’d be like in other places.

Marcus is the one that pulls away from you, resting his forehead gently to yours. You’re both breathless and you’re itching to press your mouth back to his.

“I should go.” He breathes against your mouth, pressing his lips to your in a chaste kiss.

“Yeah,” You agree, “You should.”

He steps back, takes the warmth of his palms with him, but reaches in to his pocket and hands his phone to you, “Put your number in here and I’ll call you.”

So you do, press the eleven digits into his phone along with your name and then kiss him once more before he’s turning on his heel and walking away, leaving you with a dull ache between your thighs that you’re working on relieving within five minutes of getting inside. You’re fucked.

Marcus curses himself as he settles into the seat on the bus. It’s late enough that it’s not too busy, no-one sitting next to him as he leans his head back and runs his hand over his face. He already knows he’s fucked up. The words Professor Pike and rejected from my first choice spinning around in his brain as he watches parts of North London flash past the window on his ride home.

Why hadn’t he stopped it then? He knows the rules, knows that even though he doesn’t teach her, any kind of relationships with students, no matter how mature, are off limits. And how is he supposed to keep the facade up now? It’s only a matter of time before she puts two and two together and figures out who he really is.

You’re sweet and you’re smart and you’re fucking beautiful and the best kisser he thinks he’s ever met. You have so much in common with him that it actually hurts him a little and one stupid choice to keep lying to you and the fucking ethics policy are going to keep him from something he thinks would actually be fucking good for him.

He thinks for a second, pulling out his phone and looking at your contact card that he should probably just delete your number. It’s for the best for everyone. He could avoid the museum for a while, keep his head low on campus, he knows he can avoid you. But with his finger hovering over the delete confirmation, he finds he doesn’t have the strength to do it. Stuffs his phone back in his pocket and tries to will his mind to forget the way you’d gasped into his mouth when his hands had squeezed at the swell of your ass, or the way your lips had been soft against his when he’d kissed you.

Then, led in bed, frustrations sorted by his own hand, he picks up his phone and damns himself to hell with a single text.

How about a walk around the National Gallery and dinner this weekend?

[bitchjerk78]

USE YOUR WORDS

SUMMARY: y/n helps Dean after he got injured during a fight with a demon

WORDS COUNT: 2600

PAIRING: reader x Dean Winchester

WARNINGS: smut, unprotected sex, dirty talking

You sigh while you walk towards Dean, his face dark and angry. He has his big hand on his shoulder pressing the wound he got while he was fighting that demon, the same one you could kill thanks to Sam help

<<Dean>> you whisper his name softly as you are almost scared to talk to him. His green eyes move fast in your direction and you stop breathing

<<What the hell do you want, y/n?>> his voice is harsh, deep. Full of pain and rage. You close your eyes for a second, remembering that the two of you don't really get along

<<Let me check that wound>> you reply with a firm voice. Yes, maybe you can't stand each other, but now it's different. You're not fighting for some stupid shit, he's hurt and you have to help him, even if you want to slap him most of the time

<<It's fine>> you roll your eyes bothered by his stubbornness

<<I said>> you took a step closer <<let me check the wound>> he stands properly and he looks up and down your body

<<Sam will do it when he's back>> you bite your lip even more close to losing your cool

<<Sam is covering our tracks, we don't know for how long he's going to be away and that wound needs to be suited, so you either go to a hospital or you let me check it>> your voice is confident and you look at him while you notice you can't breathe properly, the air in your lungs disappeared and you just can't inhale more. It's like everything stops while he lowers his eyes, and he nods slowly

<<Fine>> that's the only word that comes out of his mouth, but it's enough for you to get even closer and check it. When you see the blood, the skin torn apart, and the suffering expression on his face, you just can't hate him like you always used to do. You see it for what he is, just a boy. An asshole, sometimes that's for sure, but just a boy who needs help

<<Okay, why don't you sit down so I can stitch you up>> oddly, he does what you said and you can't help but notice his eyes looking at you in a way they have never done before. It's like they are looking at you for real, like they just noticed you <<Come here>> you whisper as you pour some alcohol on a tissue to disinfect the shoulder <<That bastard really got you>> you hear him chuckle and that makes you feel strange, Dean is chuckling, with you... <<Am I making you laugh?>> you ask while you put a needle in his skin to close the wound

<<No>> he growls due to the pain but he doesn't say anything about it, of course he's too proud to admit he's in pain <<I just think it's funny hearing you say bad words>> he says biting his bottom lip when you put some pressure on the wound

<<Shut up, Dean>> you roll your eyes and shake your head in disapproval

<<Shut up, Dean>> he says back, mocking you.You open your mouth slightly when you turn towards him <<Close your mouth, little girl. You never know what might slip into it>> as soon as you realise the joke, you pull away

<<Gross>> you shake your head again but you keep cleaning the wound

<<Oh come on>> he smirks <<Don't tell me you get embarrassed for something like that>> his deep voice makes you shiver in pleasure

<<No, of course not>> but you know you're lying, you know that you get embarrassed and you know why. Because even if you don't like him very much, you couldn't help but think about what would be like to feel him close. His hands on your trembling body. His lips between your shaking legs. His voice in your ear, whispering some secret desire

<<You are blushing, y/n>> he tilts his head <<Stop pretending>> you frown at his words, and you get up from the chair, hoping you can get away with this <<You think I don't know? You think I'm so naive I didn't notice the way you look at me?>> you stay still, too surprised to even move a single muscle

<<I have no idea what you're talking about>> you mumble but you can feel your heart beating way too fast and your panties getting way too wet just after some of his words

<<Liar>> he whispers in your ear, and you can feel his nose brushing against your jaw <<Bet you're hoping I'll touch you>> you find the strength to pull back and you look at him in disbelief

<<The hell is wrong with you?>> you raise your voice a little. his eyes looks at you and he opens his mouth

<<I...I'm sorry>> he says lowering his eyes <<I don't know, I just thought...>> you take a deep breath

<<Don't you ever do something like that again, don't you dare to treat me like one of your girls, Dean!>> you point a finger at him <<Because I'll fucking kick your ass>> you were hoping to see him a little scared, but his lips curls in a smile

<<I've always liked your determination>> your heart stops for a second <<The way you're independent, you don't need someone to defend you. You can do that yourself>> he takes a step closer and you raise your eyes to meet his <<Always ready to fight>> his hand gets closer to your face and he puts some of your hair behind your ear <<You have no idea how much you turn me on when you look at me all mad>> your mouth gets dry and your hands start sweating

<<What are you saying?>> you manage to ask because your voice is so low, too full of desire

<<I'm saying that I crave you>> everything stops <<I crave your touch, your body, your voice>> another small step towards you and your lips are just inches apart <<I want you, everything of you, every single part. Even the ones you hate>> two of his fingers trapped your chin so you're obliged to look at him <<Since the first day you walked through that door, I wanted you, I needed you>> you are speechless, all this is too surreale. It's like your dreams are coming true and you don't know how much you can resist the urge to grab him and finally kiss him

<<Dean, please>> you whisper out of breath

<<Please, what? Use your words, princess>> you bite your lip, and you feel his thumb touching your mouth <<Come on, I know you can do that. You like to talk so much, do it now too>> he smirks and he reaches your ear <<You're not nervous, right?>> he teases you <<Am I making you nervous, y/n?>>

<<N-no>> your voice is so full of pleasure that you almost moan as you talk

<<You really like to lie, little girl>> he says and his hands end up on your waist <<Why don't you stop pretending and you show me how much you want it?>> and without even notice it, your face gets so close to his

<<If we do this, there's no going back>> you whisper inches from his mouth

<<Oh baby, going back it's the last thing I want>> you gasp when you feel his lips on yours and, even if the feeling of it it's amazing, the only thing you're thinking is finally. He kisses you so passionately that you're almost out of breath, his tongue licks your lips slowly as you feel your knees getting weaker and you panties getting wet, you almost sure you are dripping on your thighs

<<What if Sam- >> Dean stops you, grabbing from your legs and putting you on the table

<<Honestly, y/n>> his lips end up on your neck making you shiver and moan softly as his hands keep grabbing your waist in a possessive way, his fingers pressing into your skin <<I don't give a fuck about Sam right now. I'm dying to feel your tight pussy around my cock, if Sam comes back I will gladly show him the way I can make you squirm and scream my name>> he wraps his big hand around your throat squeezing it softly <<So why you don't shut up and show me how much you want it>> the only thing you can do is nodding and you find yourself biting your lip as his mouth kiss your chest from above the t-shirt <<Bet you're so wet right now, am I right little girl?>> you shake your head but his smirk tells you he knows you're lying. So you stop breathing when his hand touches the throbbing part between your legs

<<Oh God>> you moan softly rolling your eyes back trying to keep your voice low

<<Lift your hips, baby>> now your pants are now on the floor, and you know he can see your panties all wet <<Look at the mess you made>> he shakes his head. You start shaking when his fingers rub your inner thigh <<Your dripping, y/n>> his breathing is low, full of passion and desire. The lust in his eyes is so noticeable that you almost lose control <<So you want me to lick it?>> you nod and look at him as he reach your mouth <<It's not so simple, princess>> he brushes his lips against yours <<You have to beg for what you want>> with a finger he starts touch you from above your wet panties <<So beg for it, y/n>> his movements are slow and light. So soft you almost can't feel it, but you know it's there touching you, making you go crazy <<Use your pretty mouth and beg me, come on. I know you can do it>> and while he keeps looking at you with a teasing smile, he kisses your inner thigh in the same soft way he was touching you. You feel your entire body on fire, and the desire of feeling it is so unbearable that you start moaning and shaking

<<Please>> you whisper out of breath, hoping he'll finally do it, but his soft laugh catches you off guard

<<Louder, baby>> he says biting the warm skin close to your soaked panties <<Be a good girl and say what you want me to do>>

<<Kiss me>> you say with your face on fire but he shakes his head

<<Be more specific, kiss you where?>> you close your eyes for a second, but you manage to whisper a couple more words

<<Kiss me there>> you can see his proud smile all across his face while his hands push your hips down

<<Good girl>> and with that, you finally feel his lips between your shaking legs

<<God!>> you lay on the table as your hand ends up in his soft hair <<Fuck>> you arch your back pushing your hips closer to his mouth. You can hear him moaning as his tongue licks the right spot over and over

<<God, y/n>> you almost scream when he bite your skin and suck it soon after <<You're so fucking delicious>> his hand reaches your throat while the other keep pushing your hip down the table

<<Dean!>> your head falls back on the table when two of his fingers start pushing inside you

<<Yes, good girl. Come for me>> you can feel it in your chest you're close, the fire is spreading all over your body and the shaking is unstoppable <<Come on my tongue, princess>> you arch your back one more time before the orgasm leaves your mouth while you moan his name over and over <<Such a good girl>> he smirks as he kisses your lips making you taste yourself <<I should have knew that behind that cute and innocent act of yours it was hiding this beautiful submissive girl>> he grab your legs and he push you close to his body

<<Shut up>> you say rolling your eyes trying to not be effected by his low voice and teasing words

<<Shut up? I'm pretty sure you like when I talk to you>> you hear his jeans opening and you look at his big and throbbing cock in his hand <<Oh, I know you'd like that>> he smirks while his hand moves slowly all around it, you can see some precum dripping from it and you open your mouth slowly <<All the time you were looking at it, you thought I wouldn't notice it?>> he put the tip on your pussy <<I could see the lust in your eyes, and you have no fucking idea how much I wanted to grab you and bend you over. Fucking you till the only thing you were able to do was screaming my name and begging me to let you come>> you feel the tip inside you and you squeeze your eyes

<<Dean...>> you shake your head. It's too big, you know you can't take it

<<Don't worry, princess>> he puts some of your hair behind your ear <<You can take it, I know you can. This cock was made for you>> you almost scream when you feel it all inside you, pushing you to the edge

<<Please>> you whisper as he starts to move way too slowly, making you feel like you're going to break

<<Please, what?>> you arch your back and roll your eyes as his hands grab you to make you stay still under his body

<<F-faster>> you beg out of breath, and his smile makes you understand you just said something right

<<My good girl>> he praise you as he moves faster, deeper. In an eager way, like this is what he always wanted, what he always needed. Your moans are louder than before, and his name leaves your mouth in a begging way <<You belong to me, y/n>> he wraps his hand around your neck <<From now on, your mine. Do you understand me?>> his pushes are more possessive, more dominant. So rough you feel like losing your senses. Tears of pleasure start running down your face and the only thing you can think about is how much you like this <<I've killed for way less>> his face close to yours so that you can hear his words inside your soul <<Because I'll kill anyone who tries to touch you>> another deep push makes you shaking and you wrap your legs around his waist so you can feel him all inside you <<Anyone who looks at you in the wrong way he'll find himself with a bullet in his head before he even realizes it>> your nails are grabbing his back so tightly as everything around you stop existing and you feel like you two are the only people left in this world <<If someone tries to take you away from me I'll make sure he's going to suffer>> his voice is so low, so full of things never said before <<I'd burn the world down for you, y/n. I don't care about the consequences>> another push takes you almost at the edge <<And now, come for me, little girl. Show me you feel the same>> hearing him saying all this makes you lose control of your body, and you let yourself scream his name as he whispers yours close to your ear.

You both look at each other, your faces covered in sweat and your breathing deep and shaky. You touch his cheek as you try to calm yourself down

<<I do feel the same>> you whisper and your heart stops in your chest when he puts his forehead against yours

<<I know, princess>> he whispers kissing your forehead <<I know>>.

[catscidr]

hi.. hello... may I request a dottore fic w/chronically ill reader? chronically ill as in, can't get enough sleep due to pain, doesn't clean themselves/shower, or doesn't eat a lot due to the pain and loss of appetite.

this part is a bit self indulgent but maybe reader can't walk properly due to it and needs assistance by dottore (or his segments) to hold her hand and let her cling onto them as they walk?

absolutely understandable if not! hope you have a good day :) 🕊

yes!! absolutely!! (included this other ask too bc i felt they were similar enough) im sorry i disappeared for a bit, life happened and this and that and i didn't have time to write and when i did i just.... couldn't write LOLヽ(；▽；) i don't have a chronic illness so i did my best with what i had (google and my own experiences with body pains n stuff(?) ) so pls lmk if there's like. any wording i should change and whatnot. big smoochies to u nonnie i hope this makes you feel at least a little better ♡♡ ⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝ cw: a whole lotta fluff, established relationship, dottore is probably a little ooc bc he's very soft, him and The Clones are doting on reader HARD. reader is shorter than the men includes: fem reader, dottore and his segments (Omega is the oldest, Delta is webttore, Iota is the youngest), Columbina is mentioned, fatui npcs are also mentioned wc: 2,3k

The doctor was infamous for being cruel, aloof and barbaric. From his experiments to his way of treating his coworkers, practically everyone that worked in the Fatui wanted nothing to do with him, since even if they happened to not get on his bad side, even being associated with him meant other members of the organization would look at them funny. The only people the Harbinger spoke to daily, apart from you, were his many segments. 

The same couldn’t be said for you though. When you could, you’d spend time with Viktor or Ekaterina whenever they were in Snezhnaya, hang out with Damselette when she was free or simply just make small talk with anyone willing to stop by for a chat. Unfortunately, you haven’t been able to enjoy other people’s presence since your body’s been feeling quite sluggish as of late, exhaustion seeping into your limbs much quicker than it should. Your predicament made it so that you were confined to the four walls of your room most days, human interaction being limited to Dottore and his clones. 

Not that you particularly minded, since they were an entertaining bunch. Dottore took care of you most of the time, but since his job was quite demanding, he couldn’t be there for you all the time. Which is where his segments came in. 

“The soup isn’t that hot, and I already blew on it! Just eat already,” Delta grumbles loudly, his patience wearing thin as it made way for aggressive worry to take place. You stick your tongue out at him, a tired and petty act of rebellion despite your situation. 

“I dare you to take a sip. For sure it’ll be able to melt your mechanic tongue right off,” you huff in annoyance, both from the minimal hours of sleep you’d been getting and your own patience coming to an end. The man makes a tsk sound, torn between wanting to prove you wrong by humoring your suggestion or wanting to just grab an ice cube and tossing it in the bowl in malicious compliance. He doesn’t have time to decide though, because two people come into your room right as he opened his mouth to reply. 

“Prime told me to check in on you,” Omega says as he breaches the doorframe. “You’re taking too long.” he adds, crossing his arms. The older segment stares down at his maskless coworker, lips curling down in a frown. Delta scowls, readjusting himself on your bed- he was sitting to your right, his legs thrown over the side of the bed. He glances over his shoulder at the interruption, scowl now much more genuine as he glares daggers at the older segment. 

“I would have been back a long time ago if someone,” he doesn’t hide the way his eyes glance over at your sulking form, “had cooperated with me.” Still holding up the spoon he had tried to feed you previously, he lowers it into the bowl while gesturing for Omega to come closer. The latter walks over to the bed calmly while Iota saunters over to your left side, chatting up a storm about how he’s missed you and asking when you’ll be joining them back in the lab again. 

“Maybe if you knew how to speak to women,” the oldest taunts, lips curling into a small grin, the only feature visible on his masked face. You giggle as Delta bites back an insult, purposely ignoring his superior to instead try to make you get something in your system one more time. 

“Where’s Dottore?” you ask the Omega segment, turning your face away from Delta. The latter glares at you, handing over the bowl of soup to the other man. Iota suggests feeding you but is quickly dismissed by the other two, much to his dismay. 

“Busy. Although he said he would come by to test something, if I recall correctly... didn’t mention what it was, though,” the masked segment says, blowing on a spoonful of soup to cool it off. You nod, eating the spoonful when Omega presents it to you, earning a look of disbelief from Delta. “How are you feeling today?” the oldest asks, tuning out Delta’s many choice words aimed at him. You do the same, focused on eating and taking your time swallowing the food so as to not upset your already sensitive stomach. 

“Could be better,” you respond with a sigh. “I feel pain... everywhere. And I’m tired but I can’t sleep,” you add between spoonfuls. Omega nods, letting you rant as he silently listens to you while subtly observing the way your chest heaves up and down, as if your lungs were working overtime to accommodate to an elevated heart rate. 

He hums, dipping the spoon in the bowl to feed you again. You shake your head at him and put a hand up in front of your mouth, your brows creasing your forehead. The clone doesn’t push further and instead hands Iota the unfinished bowl of food, quietly asking for him to put it away. The young boy nods eagerly, happy to be of use as he scurries away. Delta follows after him to make sure he doesn’t break anything, but glances behind his shoulder to take one last look at you, worry obvious on his usually irked face. 

“How long has it been since Prime has last given your previous dose of aspirin?” he asks, leaning closer to you to push your hair out of your face. Expression scrunched up in discomfort from the sudden food intake, you make a noise of discontentment, a vague answer to his question. He frowns but doesn’t voice his displeasure aloud, instead comforting you through your nausea. Noticing pearls of sweat beading up on your hairline, Omega pulls your bed sheets away slightly, making you more comfortable. 

“Can you try swallowing for me?” he asks gently, tilting his head forward and to the side to look at your throat. It takes you a hot second but after some struggle you do as he instructed and swallow, your throat bobbing up as you do, and the segment hums in satisfaction. “Good,” he murmurs quietly, placing one hand on your shoulder to help you straighten your back. 

“Let me help you up. Hold onto my hand for me?” Omega asks, helping you slip out of bed, putting a strong arm under yours to help you stand up. You wordlessly interlock your fingers into his own and wobble slightly, knees weak and devoid of strength, but he holds you up, bending his own knees slightly to accommodate your height. The wave of nausea comes and goes, making your legs unsteady as the clone helps you walk towards the bathroom connected to your bedroom. 

Delta comes back without Iota in tow and immediately notices your discomfort. His legs work faster than his mind and he’s to your left in the blink of an eye, supporting your weight as well to help you and Omega out. The three of you reach the sink counter and as the oldest helps you sit up on it, Delta squints at his fellow clone. 

“Can one of you get my bucket,” you manage to croak out between deep breaths, head slumped forward to rest against Omega’s shoulder. While he rubs soothing circles on your back Delta quickly grabs the bucket you kept in your room, footsteps as silent as he could as to not disturb you. You murmur a quiet thank you to him, sitting up to the best of your ability as you shoot him a grateful smile. 

“Are you feeling well enough to bathe or are you still lightheaded?” Omega asks, one of his gloved hands coming up to your forehead. He feels some heat seep through the leather fabric but waits for your answer nonetheless, crimson eyes covered by his mask staring into you. You nod, leaning into the coolness of his hand. 

“Mmhyeah, jus’ help me out a bit,” you mumble sleepily, exhaustion taking over your nausea. Delta doesn't need to be told twice as he turns on the tap to fill up the bath, keeping a hand beneath it to make the sound of water splashing in the tub quieter to avoid bothering you. 

✧✧✧   

With a towel resting over your head and newfound energy flowing through your limbs, you saunter into your partner’s main lab to find him. Omega had left shortly after you finished bathing, begrudgingly telling you that he had to go back to work- but Delta stayed with you long enough to keep you company while you let your eyes rest. He gave you some painkillers- nothing like what Dottore gave you to keep the pain at bay, but it worked as a temporary solution- and you felt energized enough to leave your bedroom to get ahold of Dottore. 

Delta walked behind you, not wanting to go back to the laboratory just yet but the last thing he wanted was to leave you alone, his mind working up a multitude of scenarios in which you’d get hurt. Although he was all bark and no bite, he still cared about you immensely- more than he’d ever admit. He watches your hair drip water onto the pristine white tiles as you walk and steps on the water with his boots, smudging the liquid to wipe it away. 

“Dottore!” you exclaim happily, eyes lighting up when you finally catch sight of the familiar mop of blue hair paired with his matching tired eyes and scarred skin adorning his face. The Harbinger looks up from his work, eyes displaying a mix of surprise and something akin to irritation- a result from catching him off guard. 

“Darling,” he says softly, quietly enough that you barely catch the loving nickname slipping past his chapped lips. “Did you eat?” he asks, brushing the dirt off his hands on his slacks. You engulf his torso in a warm hug, immediately comforted by the familiar faint scent of his cologne and whatever cleaning supply he used in his lab. He returns the hug gently and Delta looks away immediately, flustered at the sight of his boss being publicly affectionate. 

You respond with a muffled mhm, refusing to pull away. “Didn’t eat much but it was something. Omega ‘n Delta helped me bathe. Took something for the pain. Now I’m here,” you summarize, face still smushed against him. He hums in approval, but concern still creases his brows as he uses one of his hands to rub up your back and the other to dry off your hair completely using the towel on your head. Delta murmurs an excuse before leaving the premises, not able to withstand the pda. 

“You shouldn’t be out of bed,” he says sternly but softly. “I’m working on something that’ll help you in the long run, it’ll do you good to allow your body to recuperate as much as it can. Have you been sleeping alright?” 

You slump against him. Of course he’d notice how tired you were even if he couldn’t see your face. 

“...No,” you mumble. He doesn’t respond, but you feel his head moving as he looks around his workspace, seemingly looking for something. He lets out a quiet aha when he does and he brings his arms down to your shoulders to push you away. 

“I have something you can take to help you sleep. You shouldn’t feel nauseous nor dizzy when you take it as well,” Dottore says, immediately talking about the possible complications before you can even open your mouth to refuse his offer. “I tested it out myself,” he adds, lips curling into a small smile when he sees your face change from a pout to bewilderment. 

“You? The great Dottore, ex-scholar of the Akademiya, willingly taking medication to make him sleep? You never get rest, and you expect me to believe you when you talk about sleeping medication?” you say with an amused scoff. Dottore raises a brow at your teasing but doesn’t comment on it, instead he chooses to brush his pointer finger’s knuckle beneath your eyes. 

“You should believe me because I never get rest, my love,” he says fondly. “And because your dark circles are so prominent, I could probably see them from the other side of the laboratory.” he adds. You huff but lean into his touch, eyes drooping from the burst of energy catching up on your body. You hear him chuckle under his breath as he shifts his body to grab the medication in question and a syringe with a sterilized needle, preparing the equipment to administer it to you. 

“If you get an adequate amount of rest, I’ll take two days off work to take care of you properly. How does that sound?” he asks lightly, flicking the syringe to let out any air bubbles out. You look away with furrowed brows and roll your eyes, but still give him your arm. 

“Now you’re just trying to bait me,” you say, looking at him from the corner of your eyes. He shrugs, not arguing with your accusation because you were technically right. When he’s done with the syringe you feel his arms wrap around you, the warmth of his body making you sigh pleasantly. 

You can’t tell what it is that makes your body grow so incredibly tired so suddenly; if it was the medication, the strain on your body or if it was because you just felt that comfortable in Dottore’s arms, but you didn’t really care. As you felt Dottore move you to one of his couches, you reach out to grab onto his sleeve to keep him nearby. 

He complies, crouching to be at your level as you crack your eyes open to look at him. You murmur a quiet love you and shut your eyes contentedly, smiling softly once you feel his lips make contact with your forehead as you hear him clearly say I love you too back. 

[buckymorelikefuckme]

an evened score

jake jensen x fem reader

part two of a helping hand

words: 1.3k

warnings: jake motherfuckin jensen, explicit sexual content so **18+ ONLY** pls and thank, guided masturbation, use of vibrator, dirty talk, brief unprotected sex (don’t do that), crying during sex, multiple orgasms… uhhh, i think that’s it? but let me know if i missed anything!

a/n: this one is for you @bigtreefest 🫡♥️ i have no excuse for this except for the fact that i’m whipped for this man and can’t stop thinking about him. not proofread so any and all mistakes are my own! feedback is encouraged and greatly appreciated 🥰 xo

❀ part one

“Jake, please.”

Your voice is thin and weary, nearly a whine, as your chest heaves for breath.

Time has ceased to exist and has left you to spiral into a mindless, pleasure filled haze. Yet, even in the midst of the overwhelming good you’re feeling, there hasn’t been a chance of following those tingly, sparkly sensations to completion. No hint of satisfaction yet.

Perhaps you created a monster when you offered to lend a hand to your sweet Jakey, all those weeks ago, when the two of you easily slipped into more-than-friends. He’d been so shy still during the first few weeks, always taking what he was given and only sometimes asking for more, until you sat him down and told him you liked when he asked for more, when he took more. After that, he got a little more confident. More assured.

And now, in the present, you’re putty in his hands. He’s got you in the same position you first had him in; your chest resting against his back, settled between his muscled thighs. Jake asked you to show him how you get yourself off and it sent a new type of thrill down your spine, so you eagerly agreed.

Oh, how naive you’d been.

“Keep going, baby, you’re doing so well,” he murmurs in your ear, his lips brushing the cartilage tantalizingly.

You do whine this time, needy and drawn out. You’ve got three fingers in your pussy, thrusting them at an uneven pace, face full of heat at the audible squelching sounds it creates. In your other hand is a small bullet vibrator that you’ve been lightly grazing on and around your clit, not wanting to put too much pressure on such a sensitive spot, especially when you’ve already come twice. You’ve been torn between begging to stop and begging for him to fucking do something already, especially since he’s—

“Just thinking about how warm you are inside,” he says, gruff, his chest rumbling beneath your back. “How your pussy squeezes me so tight. Never felt anything better in my life.”

As if it’s responding to his words, your pussy clenches around your fingers, and you bite your lip to hold back your whimpers. He’s been whispering all the things he wants to do to you, all the ways he finds you sexy, everything he loves about fucking you, and you’re reaching your breaking point. You can feel his cock, so fucking hard and pulsing at the small of your back, but he won’t do anything, fuck, you’re almost crying out of pure frustration. Your skin glistens with a light sheen of sweat as you struggle to keep your legs spread.

“I’ve had so many fantasies about you,” Jake confesses next, softer in this admission in a way that highlights his lingering trepidation of being so bold with you, but all it does is make you finally let out that whimper and have your head falling limply back onto his shoulder. “Wanna… wanna try so many things.”

“What—“ You stop and gasp when the vibrator hits such a perfect spot, body locking up before you force yourself to relax. “What kind of things?” you manage to get out several seconds later.

He hums, dragging his lips across your neck, stopping occasionally to lick and nip at it. “Thought about seeing how many times I can make you come on my tongue only, in one night. Thought about fucking you against the windows, so everyone could see how well I take care of you. Wanna bend you over the couch, or the counter, or any other flat surface so I can watch your ass bounce while I fuck you. Wanna—god, I wanna spank your beautiful ass and leave my handprint there like a fucking brand.”

His hands finally begin to wander your skin, his own breathing picking up as he voices his imagination. Your fingers have since stopped moving, mostly because your arm is tired, but also because everything he’s saying is making you lose your goddamn mind and you can’t focus anymore.

“Wondered if you could keep my cock warm in your pussy while I finished up some work. Or maybe in your mouth. You’d be such a good girl for me, wouldn’t you?”

“Yes,” you cry, nodding and turning your face into his neck to desperately mouth at whatever you can reach. “Jakey, please, I need more.”

He coos, kissing your forehead. “Your fingers aren’t enough, are they?”

You shake your head and whine, because he’s right. Your fingers are nothing compared to his. They’re thin and kind of dainty, where his are thick and so good and long. But even his fingers don’t compare to his cock. Oh, sweet merciful jesus, his cock. You’d write and perform sonnets about it if you knew Jake wouldn’t combust from embarrassment.

“Okay,” he relents, “c’mon, you can have my fingers.”

The moment the words leave his lips you’re removing your own and lifting them to prod at his mouth, which he opens immediately. He groans, guttural and greedy, as he sucks every bit of your taste off of them. Yours still trapped between his lips, he wastes no time plunging two of his fingers into your dripping wet pussy, moaning when you flutter around them straight away. Your jaw slackens from the switch, hips fucking forward into his hand before you even register that you’re moving and your own fingers slipping free from his skilled tongue.

“Keep being good for me,” he instructs, “keep using your toy on your pretty pussy.”

Tears gather in your eyes when you touch your clit with the vibrating tip of the toy. It’s so much, too much, and it’s not nearly enough either.

“Jake,” you cry, bringing your knees up and fighting against the urge to close them.

“Look at you,” he muses, free hand gliding down your torso and back up to pinch and tweak at your nipples, then sliding downward once more to wrap around your hand and guide your movements, applying even more pressure to the vibrator that has you jerking and sobbing his name louder than ever. “So fucking perfect. Fantasy can’t hold a candle to reality, baby.”

Your tears spill over as you cry and beg and writhe, for more, for everything. Jake shushes you gently, curling his fingers inside you to rub incessantly at the spot that makes you sob pathetically, keeping those vibrations directly on your clit.

It’s sensory overload and your orgasm rips through you almost violently. Every bit of your being trembles and spasms, lungs aching as you sharply search for your breath, pleasure pulsing through you from the top of your head all the way down to your curled toes. The fingernails of your free hand dig into his meaty thigh as he coaxes you through the hardest orgasm of your fucking life.

It seems like it drags on and on and on. Your vision starts to go fuzzy and the noises pouring out of you become quieter and smaller, legs shaking as tremors wrack through your body. Jake continues murmuring sweet praises in your ear as he slowly stops moving his fingers and removes the vibrator. Like the strings of a marionette being cut, you fall back into his embrace, fighting to keep your eyes open.

“Baby,” he’s whispering urgently, and the last functioning brain cell you have takes note of the way his hips are twitching upward into you, “baby, please.”

You hum softly in assent and he’s carefully, yet eagerly, scrambling to get you flat on your back.

“I’ll be quick, I promise, I just need you,” he mutters as he lines up his gorgeous, thick, huge, fucking perfect cock and thrusts inside. You let out a pitiful cry and he kisses you. “I know, I know,” he croons, setting up a rough pace from the start, “we’ll take a rest after this, okay? But then I have more plans.”

You’d hit him if you had the energy. You’d protest and call him an insatiable fucking monster… but you both know you’d be begging for him within minutes, so instead, you let him wipe away your tears and suck on his tongue while he fucks the breath out of you.