#this made me!!!! smile thank you i feel valid

[campingwiththecharmings]

Honey Trap

AN: Fifth fic for @moonknight-events’ MK Bingo! This is probably a little silly (and likely not very well-written) but it was fun to come up with and write so irdc lol 😌 Hope someone other than me enjoys this!

You stumble across Marc while he's camping in a remote part of the woods and he's (understandably) suspicious of you.

(Un-beta’d)

Rated: M+ (this is smut so, you've been warned) Prompt: Hiking Words: 2,427 Pairing: Marc Spector x F!Reader Warnings: references to death, attempted murder, knives, frottage, please let me know if i missed anything. AO3

——————

Marc doesn’t trust you. 

Your story about wandering off trail and getting lost was plausible, sure, and you looked harmless enough, but he'd been around long enough to know that looks can be deceiving. 

Still, what was he to do? If you really were telling him the truth, you needed help. He couldn’t just let you wander around alone in the dark. What if something happened? What if you got injured, or worse, killed? No, better to assume the risk, to give you the benefit of the doubt. Plus, it certainly made it easier to keep an eye on you. You’d been so grateful, thanking him profusely and promising not to be a bother. He’d waved this off of course, trying to ignore the way his stomach flipped when you smiled at him. 

It’s late now, the moon full and high in the dark night sky. You’re sitting on the other side of the fire (his fire), your jacket zipped to your chin, arms wrapped around your legs as you try to get as close to the flames as you can without burning yourself. He tries not to keep looking at you, at the way the firelight makes you glow, but every time he looks away, his eyes inevitably drift back. There’s something about you, he’s not sure what but, it makes him feel…uneasy. Everything about you seems normal but he just can’t shake the feeling that he’s missing something. His stomach rumbles at this thought and he briefly considers that he might just be hungry. With a sigh, Marc digs into his bag, searching for the rations he’d packed. His eyes meet yours over the fire as he pulls a packet of jerky out and shakes it.  

“Want some?” he asks, holding it out to you. 

You hesitate, eyes dipping to study the nondescript packet in his hand. He swallows thickly as you unconsciously lick your lips. 

“Thanks,” you say finally, smiling as you take the food from him. 

He nods, pulling out another and tearing it open. Marc’s eyes scan the surrounding darkness as the two of you eat, the slight crinkling of the ration packaging replacing the silence. 

“So,” you begin, studying the strip of jerky between your fingers. “You come here often?” 

His lips quirk slightly at the joke but he just shrugs. “Not really, no.” 

You hum, carefully chewing a bite of jerky. “Could’ve fooled me.” 

He meets your gaze, unease settling in his gut. “How do you mean?” 

It’s your turn to shrug now, pulling another strip from your packet “You just seem very…prepared is all.” 

He sniffs in amusement, relaxing slightly. “Yeah well, people do tend to be at least slightly prepared when they plan on camping in the woods.” 

You scoff, swallowing your mouthful of food. “I wasn’t planning on camping though.” 

“Maybe not,” he agrees, taking a sip from his water bottle. “But you clearly had no idea what you were getting yourself into by coming all the way out here. Seriously, who hikes without a map?” 

You snort, shaking your head at yourself. “Valid point. Obviously, I’m an incompetent buffoon.” 

Marc bites back a smile, pulling another piece of jerky from the packet. “Well at least you’re aware of it.” 

“I’m so aware of it,” you laugh, putting your head in your hands.  

He hums, his eyes drifting to you again across the fire, watching as you (presumably) mentally berate yourself for getting into this situation. What would’ve happened had you not run into him? If you had run into someone else? With no supplies, would you even have survived the night? A wave of sympathy washes over him, and he frowns at himself for going soft on you so quickly. 

“What brought you out here, anyway? If you don’t mind me asking.” 

You look up from your hands, eyes tired but bright as you smile somewhat fondly. “My brother.” 

Marc raises an eyebrow. “Your brother?” 

You nod, reaching for your pack. You unzip it and pull out an understated urn. His stomach sinks. 

“Oh,” he croaks, his throat going suddenly dry. “I’m…sorry for your loss.” 

“Thanks,” you whisper, turning your attention to the urn in your hands. “He would’ve liked you, I think. Calling me out for being unprepared and all that. He was always looking out for me.” 

Marc grunts, uncomfortable now at the turn the conversation has taken given what had happened to his own brother. “Sounds like he was a, uh, good guy.” 

You nod, meeting his eyes over the fire again, the soft smile on your lips making his heart skip. “He was.” 

The two of you talk a little more, the topics now lighter and less serious. When you start yawning so often you can barely keep the conversation going though, he decides it’s time for bed. He insists that you take his sleeping bag, knowing your thin jacket isn’t enough to keep you warm until the sunrise. Once you agree to take it, he settles down beside the fire, pulling the hood of his jacket up over his head. Your soft snores meet his ears in no time and he smiles to himself, glad that he was able to help someone without using violence just this once. 

He stares into the fire, watching as the flames dance, as they devour the kindling he’d thrown in earlier, as they burn through the sticks and branches he’d collected. His eyes droop, head bobbing gently as he tries to stay awake, knowing he has to keep an eye on things (on you). He thinks he trusts you, or he wants to at least, but he just can’t seem to shake that feeling. Could he really trust himself though? After everything he’s done, after everything he’s seen? Perhaps it’s you who should be afraid of him. 

His thoughts spiral, taking him in directions both logical and illogical. He lets himself get lost in it, in the scenarios, in the possibilities, each one more unlikely than the next. At some point, he must doze off, though, because the next thing he knows is the weight of a body on top of him with a knife to his throat. 

It’s you. Of course it’s you. 

Damn it, he should’ve known, should’ve listened to that niggling feeling inside him that told him not to trust you. 

It’s dark save for the moonlight—you must’ve doused the fire before making your move on him.  

“I’m sorry about this,” you say, grimacing down at him somewhat apologetically. “You seem nice, and I actually kind of enjoyed talking to you but, unfortunately, I have a job to do.” 

Marc swallows thickly, the action pushing the blade a fraction deeper into his skin. “To kill me, you mean?” 

Your face loses some of its softness as you shake your head at him. “That depends on how cooperative you are.” 

He grunts, saying nothing as he tries to assess just how bad things are for him.  

“See,” you continue, leaning in a little closer, the delicious scent of you invading his nostrils. “I need information.” 

He waits for you to continue, eyes scanning your face for any tells, any flickers he can use to his advantage. When he doesn’t respond, you sigh in disappointment, frowning theatrically.  

“Please, Marc, I don’t wanna have to slice up your pretty face. Just tell me what I need to know and I’ll be on my way.” 

He clenches his teeth at your condescending tone. “What do you wanna know?”  

You smile softly at him and he curses himself for the way his heart skips a little; what the fuck was wrong with him? 

“Tell me about Operation Windstorm.” 

He needs to figure out how to get out of this. He can’t just push you off of him, can’t use his legs to flip you over, not with that knife so close to his carotid artery. One wrong move and he’s dead. 

So he stalls. 

Marc snorts, raising an eyebrow at you. “That’s it? Of all the jobs I’ve pulled, that’s the one you wanna know about?” 

You continue to smile down at him, as if you know exactly what he’s doing. “I couldn’t care less, to be perfectly honest but, my client wants to know so, until I get paid, I guess I do too.” 

He grunts, resigned to the fact that he has no choice but to give you exactly what you want in the hopes that you don’t slit his throat afterward. So he tells you every detail of that job, answering every question you have, and just when he’s beginning to think this just might not end well for him, he feels the pressure of your blade ease ever so slightly. 

He wastes no time, taking control and flipping you over, knocking the knife from your hand and causing it to skitter off into the darkness. Marc traps you beneath him, your arms pinned above your head, his knees bracketing your thighs. You’re not giving up without a fight though and wriggling beneath him, trying somehow to use the position to your advantage. You try to lift your leg, brushing your thigh against his groin; the clench of his jaw makes you smirk. 

“Stop it,” he orders, embarrassed by how easy it was for you to rattle him. 

“C’mon, we both know you don’t want that,” you tease, looking down at the slight bulge in his jeans. “Has it been a while, honey?” 

He growls, your breathy chuckles sending shivers up his spine as you continue to move beneath him. “Shut up.” 

“Or what?” you whisper, somehow managing to extricate one of your legs and curl it over his hip.  

“Or this,” he says through gritted teeth, grinding his erection against your core in an effort to turn the tables, to work you up the way you’re working him up. 

It works, your eyes fluttering, lips parting in a sweet little whimper as he grinds into you slowly, over and over again. He groans when you meet his thrusts (as well as you can anyway given your position), the heat blossoming in his gut. He leans in close, his hands still pinning your arms to the ground as he gets lost in you, in the feel of you, in the way you look beneath him. 

“Oh fuck,” you breathe, panting as every press of his hips sends delightful waves of pleasure through your body. 

Marc hums in agreement, his lip between his teeth as he hovers over you. You want to kiss him, to taste him, to devour him. So you do, pushing yourself up to capture his lips, your tongue claiming his mouth and pulling another groan from him. You arch into him as well as you can, pulling his body even closer with your freed leg as you continue to move together. The friction is delicious, like heaven, and a part of you never wants it to end. You wish you could flip him over again, ride him fast and hard, his strong fingers digging into your hips as you pull him apart and put him back together over and over and— 

Your release slams into you at the thought, a choked moan slipping from between your lips as he keeps moving, prolonging your bliss. Marc watches you as you come, the look in his eyes is greedy as your body shakes, your face contorting into something ethereal, almost otherworldly. When you come back to yourself, you meet his eyes again, your chest heaving slightly as you try to catch your breath. He looks like he wants to eat you alive, the wildness and lust in his eyes visible even in the darkness. You shiver with pleasure, chewing your lip as you let your gaze drag slowly down his body. You wish you could see more of him, his windbreaker doing nothing to compliment his undoubtedly amazing body. 

“Who sent you?” He pants, as if he hadn’t just given you the best orgasm you’ve had in years. 

Your eyes flick back to his at the question, a lazy smile curling the edges of your mouth as you begin to move against him again, silently begging him to come for you. He swallows thickly, his body tensing with every brush of your hips, his fingers clenching and unclenching around your forearms. His eyelashes flutter as he watches you, his mouth slack with pleasure. Then he groans, giving into you, into this, his body curling even more over yours as he buries his face in your neck. He ruts against you, his movements somewhat uncoordinated as he chases his release.  

His body twitches above yours as he comes, his moans muffled slightly by your neck. Just as you’re mourning the fact that you didn’t get to see his face, you notice his hold on you has slackened a bit— enough to turn the tables, you hope. Still dazed from his orgasm, it takes him a moment to realize what you’re doing as you begin to wiggle beneath him, and by the time he does, it’s too late.  

Marc grunts as you push him onto his back and straddle him, your hands pinning his muscular arms to the ground. After everything, you should probably kill him—he’s the type to hold a grudge, the type that’ll try to hunt you down—but you just can’t bring yourself to do it. If nothing else, it’d be a waste of a pretty face. Instead, you kiss him, relishing the taste and feel of him one last time before pulling away to smile down at him. 

“Thanks for the tumble, honey,” you whisper, climbing off of him with a chuckle. 

By the time he comes back to himself, you’re gone and the sun is just beginning to peak over the horizon. Marc groans in frustration, running his hands over his face as he tries to figure out what the hell just happened. He should be pissed, he thinks, for so easily falling into your trap but, somehow, he isn’t. He sniffs a laugh, shaking his head at himself as he moves to get up.  

Later, when he’s packing up his gear (including the sleeping bag he’d let you borrow), he comes across a folded, non-descript piece of paper that he knows must be from you. He unfolds it, his fingers fumbling slightly in his haste. For a moment, he just stares, his eyes tracing the lines and curves of your parting words, words that make his lips quirk in a smile.

See you around.

If you enjoyed this, please let me know! I appreciate every single reblog and/or comment. Thank you. 💖

🌟 Masterlist 🌟 MK Bingo Masterlist 🌟

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[angry-geno-is-score]

Dear reader friends,

Authors can see your public bookmarks. When you bookmark a work and don't choose to make it private, they can read what you wrote in the tags. This is great if you wrote silly things like "this made me smile" or even "screaming crying throwing up when I read this" (and I can tell you that us writers absolutely go into the bookmarks hunting for tags like this because we are praise-hungry little freaks), but not so great when the tags are something like "author is clearly an amateur, do not come back to this one".

I've kinda gone back and forth on this topic in my head, because on the one hand people are totally allowed to put whatever they want in a bookmark's tags and authors are voluntarily going into bookmarks to read any potential public tags. However, if the option to make a bookmark private is there and you are going to write something not so nice to remember the fic by (which is totally valid! some fics are just not for some people!), I feel like it's okay for us authors to at least ask that you consider making your bookmark private?

Once again, I would like to reiterate: there is nothing wrong with not liking a fic. There is nothing wrong with tagging it "this was awful and I hated it". All I and my fellow writers ask is that you check that lil box that makes the bookmark private, allowing you to be the only one who sees it.

After all, if I'm taking off my Writer Hat and putting on my Reader Hat, I am the only person I'm writing that review/making those tags for. I am not tagging my bookmark, saying, "this fic is awful don't read it" so that other people know not to read the fic. That would be mean and (maybe I'm out of line saying this, but oh well) out of line. This is not GoodReads. This is Ao3, and writers are voluntarily writing lovely things that they've put pieces of their heart and soul into that you can consume for free. All we ask is that you're kind in return. :)

So reader friends, if you finished a fic and you didn't like it all that much, please consider ticking that little box that makes the bookmark private. There is nothing wrong with tagging it in a way that warns you to steer clear, but please do it in a place the creator of said work can't see it. Thank you, we love you! :D

Sincerely, your writer friends

[canongf]

hi! i didn't feel like commenting on the post, but crushing on johnny? so valid!!! personally, i'm back on my reed bullshit due to the announcement, and i'm having fun!! this is great!

i love this for you, i love this for us!!!

i think it's cute that you've come back around to him!!! johnny was one of my first character crushes when i saw the original movie at seven years old, so it's kinda like i'm coming back around too!!! isn't it sweet that we find the things we love again!!!

[moonbeamsandmayhem]

Idea for smutty request: virgin Eddie who has never even eaten a girl out so he asks if he can practice by eating reader’s pussy…. Ofc reader says yes cos she’s had a crush on Eddie for forever

a/n: I’ve been working on this for months. So for that, I apologize!

warnings: reader with titties, cunningulus, mentions of a shitty ex-partner. I think that’s it. Please let me know if I missed anything.

“You sure?”

“Ed—.”

He held up his hands in defeat, licking his lips anxiously. “I just wanna — I don’t wanna fuck this,” and he gestures between the two of you, “Up. Our friendship. You know?”

“I know.”

Eddie stares at you, deep brown boring into you as if looking for a flicker of doubt. There was none. Your friendship with him meant the world, and when he approached you with his request, well. You could never deny him anything. Your heart stammered and you could feel your cheeks heat, but you agreed.

His room had always been a safe space. The smell of old spice, burning wood, and Marlboro’s infiltrated your lungs, causing the tension in your body to uncoil. Ever the gentleman, Eddie made sure to clean up for you, have bottled water on the bedside table and extra pillows at the ready.

You started to shimmy out of your shorts, but Eddie’s hands replaced yours, fingers caressing every bit of skin as it’s revealed. “You’re so fucking pretty,” his tone is awe-struck as if he’s seeing you for the first time. Thighs squeeze together and he takes note, a sly little smile curling his lips. “What’s the matter, sweetheart?”

“Nothing.”

He lifts a brow.

“Promise. Just never been referred to as ‘pretty’ before.”

The metal head blinks at you slowly as if he can’t process what you’re saying. “Not even Chad or whatever-the-fuck that dick ex’s name is?”

You shake your head.

“Asshole.” Eddie declares, strong hands finding yours, fingers threading together. “If you were mine… I’d tell you every damn day. You’re gorgeous. Not that you need my or anyone else’s validation.” His eyes soften, “Thank you for this.” It’s the first time you see a hint of vulnerability cross his features cutting through all the bravado. It makes your chest squeeze with affection.

He wastes no time, peeling away your underwear. You resist the urge to slam your legs together, shyness taking over. “No hiding,” as if he can read your thoughts, his eyes are the softest brown, pools of warmth you could get lost in.

Eddie kisses along your thighs, nipping gently, experimentally. Your breath hitches and he chuckles, hot breath fanning over you. A whine emits from the very back of your throat. “Sensitive little thing, ain’t ya?” He licks his lips before he leans forward, kissing directly onto your seam, head buried between your legs. He nestles his nose against the thatch of curls there, breathing in your scent.

Eddie’s breath is warm, the flat of his tongue dares to spread you apart for him, flicking upward toward your clit. He’s slow, calculated, watching your expressions for some guidance.

“Jesus Christ,” you moan, he takes a part of your labia into his mouth and sucks softly, humming around you , “you’re - you’re sure you’ve never done this b-before?”

You can feel him smile against your cunt, before his tongue dips, finding your entrance. You gasp, hands grabbing those wild locks of his, tugging sharply. He groans, deep and reverberating, the muscle curling inside of you, working in and out, searching for that spot. You grind your hips down, desperate for more friction. “God, Eddie - fuck -!” It doesn’t take much before you’re arching off the bed.

“Mmmhm.” He’s drinking you down, lapping and slurping at everything you have to offer. A calloused thumb finds your neglected clit, circling it in tandem with the actions of his mouth. Your own hangs open, spewing expletives, moans, praises, gibberish and Eddie revels in it.

The coil in your stomach snaps sooner than you’d like and you’re cumming, clenching around his tongue while white hot pleasure burns through you. He continues, working you through your climax until you’re pulling him off, tears streaming down your face. You both lock gazes, his cheeks are rosy, lips covered in your spend, eyes heavy with lust. As for you, your face is covered in a light sheen of sweat, your body flush.

Eddie makes his way up to you, caging you in between his arms, hair falling in curtains to frame his face. He reaches up to wipe away a stray tear.

It’s just the two of you against the world, all panting breathes and longing gazes.

He looks at you for a long moment, his expression unreadable. For a second you feel a pang of fear that maybe he was having second thoughts. That this whole thing was a mistake and you should just forget it.

“Can I kiss you?” He finally asks.

You blink owlishly.

“Or - or we can not do that - that was a stupid suggestion, forget I said any- .”

“Eddie?”

“Yeah?”

“Shut up and kiss me.”

“Thank fuck.”

[lecsainz]

Can u do any kind of luke imagine with maybe a daughter of hades:p

˒ ⌕ DID YOU EAT, TODAY?

parings: luke castellan x hades!reader

an: this was my first piece that my sister liked? I'm sooo happy because she's picky, and I usually have to beg her to read anything I write. yes, I know it's pathetic, but I usually don't think my writing is good, and I don't think you guys will like it. I have a bit of a validation-seeking complex (mirroball girl here 😭

summary: where, after 18 years of surviving alone, you finally arrive at camp half-blood, discovering you're a child of hades. adimist it all, a hermes' boy might find himself perhaps falling for you.

( my last work || my last work for riodanverse || go to main masterlist )

The camp was bustling with activity, but for you, the chaos of your newfound identity as a demigod and a daughter of Hades was still settling in. The moment you were claimed upon entering the camp, it felt like your entire world had shifted. As the campers dispersed for their activities, you sought solace by the lake, needing a moment to process the overwhelming revelations.

Luke, having noticed your absence from the group, made his way to the lake with a small cupcake in hand. Blueberry, your favorite. He approached cautiously, recognizing the turmoil on your face. The daughter of Hades, a complex puzzle of emotions and powers.

"Hey there," Luke greeted, sitting down beside you. "Did you eat today?"

You looked up, your eyes still reflecting the confusion and vulnerability that came with the newfound knowledge of your divine parentage. The mere question, though simple, struck a chord within you, resonating with a sense of care that you hadn't expected.

"I... I didn't really feel like it." you admitted, your voice betraying the uncertainty.

Without another word, Luke handed you the cupcake, and the corners of his lips lifted into a reassuring smile. "Well, you should. It's blueberry – your favorite, right?"

Surprised, you glanced at the cupcake, realizing that somehow, amidst all the chaos, Luke had remembered your preference. A small, genuine smile formed on your face as you took the cupcake. "Thank you."

Taking the cupcake, you managed a small smile. The gesture was simple, yet it carried an unspoken understanding. You hesitated for a moment before taking a bite, savoring the sweetness that contrasted with the bitter reality you were grappling with.

Luke watched you quietly, and when you finally met his gaze, he reached over to wipe away a stray tear that had escaped your eye. It was a gentle touch, one that conveyed more comfort than words ever could.

"You know, being a demigod is tough, especially in the beginning," he began, his tone gentle. "But you're not alone in this. We're a family here, weird as it may be."

You chuckled, feeling a hint of warmth amidst the emotional storm. "Yeah, a family of demigods with divine parent issues."

Luke chuckled with you. "Exactly. And you've got powers from the Underworld, which is pretty cool if you ask me."

Your laughter echoed by the lake, and Luke couldn't help but feel a warmth spreading within him. He looked at you, your smile contagious, and a goofy grin formed on his face. In less than 48 hours, everything you did seemed to become his favorite thing.

"See? I knew blueberry cupcakes were the way to go," Luke teased, nudging you playfully.

As you enjoyed the cupcake, the night air became a canvas for the unspoken. Luke's gaze lingered on you, studying your features. The flicker of vulnerability in your eyes and the subtle playfulness of your smile sparked something in him. His mind wrestled with conflicting thoughts. The prophecy and his allegiance to Kronos felt like a weight on his shoulders, yet the simple act of being there for you seemed to defy the inevitable.

Luke couldn't help but think he was treading on dangerous ground. The more he got to know you, the more he realized that maybe, just maybe, there were things worth fighting for beyond the plans of gods and Titans.

Caught in his own internal struggle, he locked eyes with you. His expression shifted between uncertainty and an undeniable connection that was forming against all odds.

And then, as if a realization hit him, you blushed, looking away. The daughter of Hades, powerful and enchanting, now bashful under his gaze. A small smile played on Luke's lips, acknowledging the unexpected turn of emotions.

"Stop," you said, your voice a blend of amusement and a blush that colored your cheeks.

"I can't help it," Luke responded, a mischievous glint in his eyes. He made no effort to hide his amusement, which only intensified your embarrassment.

A playful slap on his arm was your immediate response. "Seriously, cut it out."

Luke chuckled, the sound resonating in the tranquil night. "Alright, alright. I'll behave... for now."

"Hey, Castellan! We're heading out. You coming?" The moment was interrupted by a group of Hermes cabin members calling for Luke. As he got up to join them, he glanced back at you. "You coming?"

He extended his hand towards you, a gesture so simple yet filled with unspoken invitation. With a slight hesitance, you placed your hand in his, and together you walked away, fingers intertwined.

The children of Hermes exchanged smirks, whispering amongst themselves as they watched Luke and you leave the lakeside. One of them winked at Luke, teasingly remarking, "Looks like someone's got a soft spot."

Luke shot back with a grin, "I don't know what you're talking about."

He glanced at you, a sly smile playing on your lips radiating a warmth that ignited a turmoil within him. In that moment, a realization struck Luke like a lightning bolt – perhaps you were the unforeseen obstacle in Kronos' grand plan. As he stared at you, the idea that his growing feelings for you could complicate the titan's scheme loomed over him, and for the first time, Luke Castellan felt the weight of a dilemma he hadn't anticipated.

[luveline]

Girly pop, I saw that ask😏 I think a lot of us would love to have Hotch be the father of our children lololol- its SO valid. Can I request a pregnant reader x Aaron hotchner? It can be about anything and everything, placing it into your hands girl 🤲 im just here for the vibes😩 love ya!

thank you for requesting lovely! <3

“It’s a bit weird,” you say quietly. 

Hotch touches your thigh under the desk. “It’s not weird,” he says without looking up. There’s a casefile open in front of him, because there almost always is. 

“It looks weird.” 

“It looks beautiful. You’re changing.” 

You cover your stomach with your woollen cardigan and glance through the windows of his office. You’ve spent a lot of time at his side lightly; brewing a new life has made you unreasonably paranoid. It’s not a symptom either of you were expecting, but Hotch has yet to baulk. You weren’t even showing and you were wrecked by nerves. Now you’re calming, and the baby is getting bigger, and you’re pretending to be more anxious than you feel for the sake of being near him. He hasn’t baulked about that, either. 

“Are you sure I can still be in here?” you ask. 

“Well, my ability to get work done hasn’t been affected,” he says, a teasing lightness seeping into his tone. “Are you working well?” 

You jiggle the mousepad on your laptop to wake the screen. “Yes.” 

“That’s terrible. I’m one handed managing more than you.” 

You cover his hand with yours. “No need to brag.” 

Hotch hums. You sit quietly after that for a time as he works. He’s consulting on something, and he does as he claims; he works efficiently until he’s finished, his brow crinkled, his thoughts unsaid. You sneak a peek at his case and he closes it quickly. 

“Hey, what? I can’t see? Is it confidential?” 

“You’ll feel gross and then the baby will.” He smiles around the word ‘gross’ as though he knows it’s completely out of character to say. “I’m protecting you both.” 

“My hero.” 

“Watch it,” he says, squeezing your thigh hard enough to tingle. 

You laugh and lean back in your chair, the end of your blouse climbing up your stomach uncomfortably. It’s odd to suddenly outgrow your shirts in this specific way, and to see the evidence of your small sapling as he grows. “Whatever.” 

Hotch glances at the door before turning in his chair toward you. His hair has grown out again to your delight, dark strands kissing his forehead, darker lashes held low as his gaze drops to your stomach, and he cups your bump without asking. He’s the only one who can get away with such a thing —he’s the gentlest touch you’ve ever met. “How’s your heart today?” he asks, his palm gracing back and forth. It’s oddly soothing. 

He’s asking if you’re worried. “I’m okay. I think whatever it was is going away… I know you’ll take care of me, so there’s no reason to be freaking out all the time.” 

“I will,” he says. He lets his hand rest warmly on the hill of your stomach. “I can’t protect you from everything, but you know,” —he drops his voice to half a murmur— “I’ll try my hardest, honey.” 

You lean into his side. “That’s good enough for me.” 

Hotch puts his head on yours, jiggling your mousepad for you when the screen goes dark. 

[williamsracinggf]

✧.* just like dad / ls2 *.✧

little luna sargeant's got her mind set on one thing: she wants to be just like dad when she grows up.

notes: HURRRR THEY WONT TAKE ME OFF SHADOWBAN SO I'M POSTING HERE UNTIL THEY TAKE ME OFF and yes i'm still tagging it under dpm LMFAOOO

“i’m nervous.” logan glances at the sleeping 5-year-old sprawled across the backseat with her koala stuffie covering her face. he sits back again and glances at you, eyes stuck on the road ahead.

you hum and glance over at him, shaking his leg as he twists his body and takes another look at your daughter. “it’s not even your race, babe.”

you hear logan sigh exasperatedly, staring longingly at the snoring kid. “i know it’s her race. but you know,” he trails off, tilting his head slightly.

he doesn’t get nervous about his races anymore. so when the then 4-year-old daughter came up to him after his race in miami talking about how she wanted to register for a karting race this year, he was more than flabbergasted. he remembers looking over at you in shock while you just shrugged and told him, “you heard the lady.”

while you’re not entirely pleased by your daughter’s decision to start karting, you wouldn’t ever dare to be the parent who told her what she can and cannot do. it’s a value that you and logan had discussed earlier in your relationship and something you’ve tried to stick to heavily.

if you have the means to ensure that your daughter can do what her heart desires, then why would you ever deny her?

logan would have preferred for his carbon copy to not subject herself to the brutality of the sport he’s gotten himself into, but he also cannot help the feeling of pride growing in his chest at the thought of his daughter taking after him. there is something so endearing about the way she wants to be just like him — in her words, not his.

“you can always tell her not to race,” you shrug. “no harm in saying no.”

he throws his head back as he gets comfortable in his seat again. “i can’t do that,” he shakes his head, “you saw how excited she was when we signed her up for her classes.”

you laugh. “besides, you’ve got the perfect gift for luna.” you reach over for his leg in the passenger seat, squeezing him as you smile at him. “she’ll love it.”

that’s another thing: the custom helmet that logan had gotten made for luna’s first race ever. your daughter initially only insisted on her own race suit, which you went and got customised together without logan on a weekend he was away for a race.

it wasn’t until little luna had seen one of logan’s helmets on one of your bedroom shelves that she decided she wanted one for herself. but by that point, it never would have made it in time for her first race.

though, logan being the proud dad that he is (and luna being daddy’s little girl), he already had a custom helmet in the works with a much cuter motif. it’s pink and grey with koalas plastered all over it, thanks to oscar’s influence on the little girl during their trip to australia early last year.

“that design was sent in months ago. what if she doesn’t even like pink anymore?”

logan’s concern is valid. the little girl had taken after your indecisiveness, often changing her claims for things that are her favourite every other day. one time she had sobbed for a solid half hour after logan came home with blue raspberry flavoured candy, suddenly claiming that strawberries are actually her favourite flavour of candy.

logan looked at you hopelessly for help, but neither of you had gotten the memo that her blue raspberry obsession was short-lived. he wound up walking out the front door and coming back with a bag full of strawberry-flavoured candies, feeling like the worst dad that he had somehow let it slip his mind what her favourite candy was.

both of you struggled to finish the blue raspberry candy for weeks, having to start giving it away in the paddocks during his next race.

“i’m sure she still likes pink as much as she did yesterday,” you explain, glancing at your daughter through your rearview mirror. “look at her — it looks like the pink panther threw up all over her.”

he looks back at her, almost bursting out in laughter at how right you are. she’s taken the liberty to dress herself in a pink tutu with a random grey shirt, topped off with a bow that held her hair in a ponytail. “are you sure? what if she wakes up and changes her mind?”

your car comes to a slow stop, surrounded by several other cars in the parking lot of the karting track. you turn to logan and sigh as you shake your head. “you’re overthinking this, babe. she’ll love it,” you reach over for his hand, “because it’s from you.”

he raises an eyebrow, staring at you with clear scepticism. being away for weeks at a time didn’t make him feel like a great dad, despite the young girl always clinging to him whenever he was back in town for breaks, always rambling on about how much she missed her dad while he was gone and that she watched his race.

it’s managed to make him feel so disconnected in her life, sometimes even jealous of how much time you’ve gotten to spend with luna as she grew up. he just doesn’t feel like he knows a lot about her, despite him passing the random quizzes from his giggly daughter right before bed.

“are we here?”

logan flinches at the tiny face that’s slotted herself between their seats, clutching his chest while the 2 girls burst into laughter. “you’re sneaky! i didn’t even notice you were awake!”

“the car stopped moving!” luna shrieks, climbing between the two seats to throw herself onto logan. “and i’m excited!”

“of course, you are!” you cheer, reaching over to pat her head. “it’s your first race, isn’t it?”

she turns her head to look at you with a wide smile, her familiar green eyes shining in the sun that hits your car. your genetics hadn’t had a chance against logan’s — the small girl sported identical green eyes and dirty blonde hair, with dimples to complete the mission of being his clone.

“uncle ozzy will be here too, right? with aunty lily?” she scrambles to press her face against the window, hands cupped over her eyes as she scopes out for her parents’ best friends in the crowd outside the car. “what about uncle alex?”

“they promised to be here to watch your race, lu,” logan laughs, peeling her away from the window. he sits his daughter on his lap, leaning back as he enjoys their time in the cold of the car. “i actually got you a present for the race today.”

“a present! where?”

“it’s in the back, but-”

“then let’s go!” luna squirms in her father’s grip, reaching forward to unlock his door. she almost falls out when she opens it, giggling when logan’s grip on her arm refrains her from hitting the ground face first.

she wiggles out of his grasp, logan tiredly looking over his shoulder at you, still sitting peacefully in the driver’s seat. you shrug as you pull down the visor and grab your makeup bag. “you told her about your present. you know how she feels about presents.”

he opens his mouth to shoot back an explanation, but is cut short by his daughter screeching and running back up to his side of the car. “daddy, my present!”

she reaches up for logan’s hand, forcefully pulling him out of the car. he nods, stumbling over himself as he hurriedly reaches back to release his seatbelt and lets her drag him to the trunk of your family car.

“what is it? is it a toy?” she beams, hopping next to logan as he scavages the several bags in the back for the black dustbag that contains her new helmet. “did you get it while you were away?”

“it’s no longer a surprise if i tell you,” logan laughs.

“is it a toy?”

logan shrugs, reappearing with a bag in his hand. luna’s eyes widened at the far larger gift than she had expected. she reaches up for the bag, whining when logan doesn’t immediately give it to her.

“do you want to guess what it is?” he teases, lifting it further out of her grasp.

“no!” she shrieks, now wrapping her arms and legs around her father’s body at an attempt to climb him to get to her promised present. “please, daddy! my present! i wanna see it!”

“how can daddy give you the present when you’re climbing him like a little monkey, my love?” you laugh, coming around the corner to tear her off logan’s body. “are you our little monkey baby?”

you burst into laughter watching the tiny girl screech in response, shaking her head aggressively as she tries to rebuke your accusations.

alas, logan finally gets on his knees to match her height. he holds out the bag to her, grinning when her green eyes stare into his, her body shaking in excitement. “present time?”

she nods, biting down on her lip. “present time.”

she drops to the ground when logan hands it over. she immediately grabs at the bag, tugging it off the helmet and grunts when there’s another layer of paper packaging that shies it away from her prying hands and curious eyes.

when she does get around to it, though, it’s like time stops when she lays eyes on the large drawing of the koala on the top of the helmet. just 3 weeks ago, she had finally come to terms that she wouldn’t have her own custom helmet for her first ever race ( against her best wishes). now here’s a helmet with her name in black at the corner.

she breaks into a mind-curling scream as she jumps to her feet excitedly. she certainly doesn’t notice the eyes heavily staring at your family, but you do, simply shrugging before returning your attention to luna.

“daddy!” she screams, throwing her arms around logan’s neck, knocking him back into the ground. she doesn’t even notice the soft thud when the back of his head hits the car. “it’s pink and there’s a koala! oh, my days!”

you snort at her vocabulary, suddenly wishing that you hadn’t taken george up on the free babysitting in the paddocks whenever you’re there. her vocabulary never fails to shock you, seemingly being the perfect mix of a kid growing up in the uk with a dash of american from her dad’s side of the family.

she pulls away from him, picking the helmet up from the ground and hops on over to you. “look at it, mummy! it’s got a koala on it!”

you feign excitement and shock. logan had consulted you with the design about a month or two ago, asking you for opinions and any additional designs to satisfy his little girl. you’d even seen the helmet just this morning before getting out of bed to make breakfast for the family.

she turns back to logan, who simply grins. “you like it?”

“i love it!” she screeches. she places the helmet over the dustbag on the ground, whirling around to throw her arms over logan again. “it’s the best present ever! i really really love it!” she throws her head back. “you’re the best dad in the world! i love you!”

she grabs logan’s face, mushing his cheeks as she presses a sloppy kiss on his cheeks. “thank you, thank you!”

“little luna!” oscar’s voice makes the young girl perk up, turning around at the call of her favourite uncle.

she picks up the helmet and sprints over to the couple not too far away, stopping in their tracks when she practically throws herself into oscar’s arms with the helmet in her hands. “look what daddy got me!”

oscar and lily immediately gawk at the girl’s amazement of her dad’s present, showing them all of the things she’s noticed since she laid eyes on it about 5 minutes ago.

logan finally turns to you, sighing in relief. he rests his head on your shoulder and you chuckle as you wrap your arms around him and pat his back. “you’re too hard on yourself, love,” you hum, swaying slightly as you take a quick glance at luna, now surrounded by alex and george who are also congratulating her on her first helmet. “she sees you, you know.”

he pulls away and leans into your touch when you cup his cheek. perhaps he’s too hard on himself. but when you’re away from your daughter most of the year, you’re bound to start thinking that you’re no better than an absent parent.

“i just always feel so disconnected from you guys.” he clenches his jaw, throwing himself over your smaller frame again to hide his face in your hair. “i wish i was around more. it feels like i’m losing her with each day i’m not around.”

“she talks about you all the time and how cool you are.” you pull away and grin slightly, caressing his cheek with your thumbs. “look at her — entering her first karting race. she goes on and on about being just like daddy. you’re her hero.”

logan raises his eyebrow and clenches his jaw. “again — i wouldn’t say i should be her role model when it comes to racing.”

“you can’t change her mind,” you shrug, forcefully turning logan around to look at luna, now in fits of giggles as oscar helps her to try on the helmet. “you’re always with her even when you’re not.” you rest your cheek on his arm, wrapping an arm around his and intertwining your fingers together.

“i just miss you guys so much all the time.” he throws his head back with a groan, turning back to you. “i miss you all the fucking time.”

“don’t be like that.” you tiptoe and pucker your lips, giggling sheepishly when he bends down to press his lips on yours. “luna loves watching the races and she looks forward to you coming home with trinkets and candy. she never forgets you.”

before he can answer, a hand is hitting his thigh, forcing him to pull away to look down at what’s cut your intimate time short.

the girl looks up with her helmet on, her small hands struggling to pull up the visor. “daddy, mummy, look.”

“oh, luna, you look so cool!” logan gushes, helping the girl lift the visor.

her cheeks are mushed in the helmet, green eyes shining through as she throws her head back with a loud giggle. “as cool as you, daddy?”

“even cooler!” logan bends down, taking the young girl into his arms. he hoists her into the air, and then sits her on his hip before reaching for your hand. “come on, let’s get ready for your first race, lulu.”

@cashtons-wife @nikfigueiredo @darleneslane @happy-nico @namgification

[honeyboylovee]

‘Sleep well, baby’

Pairing: Wonwoo x gn!reader

Word count: 600ish

Genre: established relationship!AU, fluff

Warnings: none

A/N: I had this in my drafts for way too long. I had my exams and just couldn’t finish it. So here it is now that I’ve a little time. Feedbacks are very appreciated. I hope you enjoy! Thank you for reading.

The sound of the elevator dinging reaches your ears. You have reached your floor. With the last ounce of energy you have in yourself, you drag your aching feet till you reach your apartment door.

As you enter, you notice Wonwoo’s shoes in the shoe rack. He is home early today, you think. You take off your shoes and hang your coat before moving towards the kitchen. You’re hungry and there’s food. That’s all you see. The last meal you had was seven hours ago. You really have faced the consequences of not carrying a snack to your work today.

He’s wearing his headphones and the bright light from his monitor illuminates his face. He doesn’t notice you yet. On reaching near his gaming chair, you gently place your hand on his shoulder so you don’t startle him. His attention shifts from the game and almost immediately, his smile that you love so much graces his face.

He pulls you on his lap and wraps his arms around your waist. Soon after, he saves his progress in the game that he was playing and exits it. Now all his attention is focused on you.

‘How was your day, baby?’, he asks you.

‘Long, like really fucking long. I haven’t even showered yet because I was starving and just wanted to eat.’

‘Hm…I understand. You worked for almost 12 hours today, didn’t you?’

‘Yes, I did! And you know what, my lame excuse of a boss still thinks that’s not enough.’, you say with a raised voice as you let your frustration out.

‘No way! Does he want you to live in your cubicle now?’, Wonwoo exclaims, completely invested in your rant about your senior.

You chuckle at his comment. If there’s one thing Wonwoo is the best at, it is to validate your frustration. He never makes you feel unheard even though sometimes your rants become repetitive.

‘I don’t knowww’, you whine, as you snuggle your head into his shoulder. The warmth he radiates immediately comforts you. One of his palms shifts to draw little shapes on your arm. On nights like these, all you want to do is to sleep in his arms with his scent and warmth engulfing you. The rythmic thumping of his heart calms you down.

‘Want me to run a bath for you, baby?’

‘Mhm no, gonna shower real quick..’, you say as you get up from his lap.

‘Gonna wait for you in the bedroom, hm?’, he says sweetly.

‘Yeah baby, I’ll be super quick so I can be in bed faster’

Shower was tiring, to say the least. All you did was stand under the showerhead for ten minutes like that would get rid of all the dirt from the day. As you got out, you saw Wonwoo laying on the bed with his phone and his glasses on. He was wearing a white shirt looking comfy as ever. You rushed the process of putting on your night clothes. And now, you could be in bed. Finally, you could be with your boyfriend who looked so comfy from afar.

‘This is the best part of my day’, you whispered.

‘Sleep well, baby’, he told you, eager for you to get some rest.

As you slipped into a slumber listening to his heart beat, Wonwoo made a mental point to let you sleep in on the weekend and get your favourite food delivered.

[boyfhee]

UNKISS ⋆ nrk

prompt · “you're so dumb” insert fond smile requested

g · bittersweet / fluff warnings · kissing, profanities wc · 0.9k

note · hi lily i hope u like this :< pls take care of urself, yeah? i luv u, and thanks to @flwrshee and @dokiyeom for beta reading + helping me with the ending. i asked both of them for advice and used neither's 😆☝️ go follow them

riki follows you closely behind as you rush down from the hallways to the middle of the football ground for some reason, anger spilling around with every step you take. “riki, what the fuck? what the actual fuck? how could y— why did you do that?” 

“relax, it was just a kiss,” and his voice is calm, like it’s just a kiss, just a moment where his lips touched yours, like it’s an everyday thing, as if you’re making a big deal out of it by making it sound like he just committed a crime. you don’t know why or how he’s so normal about this while you feel every nerve in your body go off with sirens. 

“my first kiss,” you turn around hastily, your index finger pointed at him as he takes a step back to avoid crashing into you. “it was my first kiss, riki, and you took it. you, and you’re not even my boyfriend,” 

is this supposed to be a secret? yes. are you in the middle of the football ground throwing a tantrum like a five year old, for the world to know? also yes, and you couldn’t care less, actually. the fact that riki took your first kiss easily tops your list of concerns at the moment. 

“i am,” he blinks, as if he’s stating a fact, hands on his waist like he’s making a completely valid point. “a fake one, but i am still your boyfriend,” you roll your eyes, scoffing at his oh so true words before shooting him a glare. 

“that doesn’t even make sense. i thought i made it clear when i said ‘no kissing,’ at the beginning of this fake dating thing,” there were three rules, actually— no kissing, none of you are allowed to go on dates with someone else, this is a secret which means, none of you are allowed to breathe a word about this to anyone, not even your best friends. 

“well, what do you expect me to do when your friends dare me to kiss you?” another factual information falls off his lips, it’s actually true this time. truth and dare with friends— never a good option, especially when you’re playing with your fake boyfriend and when your friends are spawns of the devil. 

“i don’t know, you should’ve made an excuse to not kiss me, or you could’ve pretended to kiss me, you know, since this is all about pretending,” right, all about pretending, from pretending to date, to pretending to like each other, fake smiles and fake words of affirmations, fake sweet nothings whispered and fake claims of being in love— it’s all about pretending and riki, he isn’t enjoying this little play at all.

he doesn’t like that every i love you that leaves his mouth manages to convince the world but you. he hates that at the end of the day, every second spent with him is simply tagged as ‘fake dating’ under the chapters named after him in your life. riki despises the fact that no matter how true his feelings are, in your eyes, they’re just an act pulled by him to convince people he doesn’t care about, and he hates himself for not being able to tell you how he actually feels. 

“eh, what’s done is done. besides, it can’t be that bad to kiss me,” so, he just picks up pieces of you from the smiles and hugs you give him here and there, hoping that there will be a day when you will actually consider turning whatever you two have into something more serious, something real.  

you feel your cheeks heat up at his words as you turn around to face away from him. truthfully, the kiss wasn’t half bad. it only lasted for a few seconds, but the ghost of his lips still lingers over yours as if you’re the home they’ve been looking for. you can still taste faint flavour of strawberry from the strawberry milk he had during the game. the moment replays at the back of your head like a movie, one that makes your heart beat relentlessly everytime you think about it. you don’t even know why your mind keeps travelling back to it every now and then. 

“whatever, ‘ki, first kisses are important to me,” you like the fact that he hasn’t noticed your flustered face, he likes the little name you’ve given him unknowingly. “i wish we could just…unkiss or something,” 

“that isn’t even a thing,” he chuckles, earning another glare from you in return. “you’re so dumb,” your words make no sense, but riki can feel himself smiling fondly at your stupid thoughts, his eyes fixed on you while yours are staring at the horizon with slight annoyance. what you said is baseless, but the next second, he’s actually considering it; to unkiss, if that’s even a thing— he can make it a thing, perhaps,

the next thing you know, riki is cupping your face to make you look at him, and before you could say something, his lips are on yours again, catching you by surprise as he pulls you a little closer. you swear your heart might’ve just skipped several beats, another second passes as you process the situation, and riki pulls away the very next moment. “there, i returned your first kiss back to you,” 

and all it took riki is a kiss to find his way to your head, and an unkiss to find his way to your heart.

[halsteadlover]

𝐇𝐨𝐰 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐢𝐭 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥?

*Gif and pics not mine credits to the owner*

• Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader.

• Requested: no.

• Summary: what better thing than your boyfriend giving you a back massage?

• Warnings: no plot basically Spencer being horny, nudity, hinting of sex, cursing, highly suggestive at the end and I don’t know what else let me know if I missed something 😭

• Word count: 1906.

• A/N: PLEASE READ THIS ONLY IF YOU’RE +18. I was about to write a full smut one but I was too lazy so that’s what came out 😭. I’m sorry for any mistake <3 I hope you’ll like it anyways, let me know what you think and comment, like and reblog, I’d really appreciate it ❤️ Thank you so much for your support xx

Spencer was completely obsessed with you.

There was no secret about that.

He needed to always be next to you, to have his hands on you one way or another, to touch you. He was head over heels in love with you and when he looked at you, with so much love, he wondered what you had done to him, how you managed to make him lose his mind that way.

He always found a way to always be close to you, whether it was a hand on the small of your back, or maybe playing with a lock of your hair, having your fingers intertwined with his, having a hand resting on your thighs while his fingers possessively gripping your skin, or his lips placing kisses on your shoulder as his arm circled your hip while you were out with friends. One way or another he needed to touch you.

He was just obsessed with your skin, the way goosebumps formed on it every time he touched or caressed you, with your scent. You've never been with someone who adored you like that and being with Spencer made you realize how much time you'd wasted in the past.

He’d always compliment you, constantly telling you how beautiful you were. His eyes were always and only on you, whether you were alone or among other people. He always looked at you with so much adoration and love you often wondered what the hell you had done be so lucky. You've caught him looking at you sometimes with a silly little smile on his lips and after asking if you had something on your face, “Nothing. I just love looking at you, you're so beautiful baby. I love you too much,” he would reply, leaving you like a blushing mess, which he loved the most.

He never wasted time touching you, as already mentioned, he always needed to feel some physical contact with you. Every excuse was valid for him to be able to put his hands on your body so when you asked him to give you a massage, he didn't let you repeated it twice and literally ran into the bedroom, throwing away the book he was reading.

You had just finished taking a shower and you were wearing only a short towel that barely covered your ass. Spencer immediately stopped in his footsteps and let out an appreciative whistle as his eyes studied and scanned every inch and curve of your body with painstaking attention.

You chuckled noticing the way he was looking at you, failing to hide the blush that was spreading across your cheeks. He leaned in and circled your hips, “Shit baby you're breathtaking,” he said as his hands caressed your bare skin. He dropped small kisses on your cheek, then trailed down your neck. “So damn gorgeous,” he whispered, shamelessly squeezing and groping your ass.

“Baby!” you giggled as your hands caressed his arms. You then placed them on his chest and pushed him slightly away, earning a groan of disappointment from him. “No, stop it. I called you so you can give me a massage. My back is killing me.”

“Babe. C'mon, seriously,” he retorted with a serious expression “You’re half naked in front of me and you really expect me to behave? I got a boner by just looking at you with this towel on, there's no way I can resist you.

You rolled your eyes, a smirk playing on your lips as you dropped the towel to the floor and stood completely naked under his hungry gaze.

“Baby…” he sighed, his mouth slightly open as if it was the first time in his life he’s seen you naked, “Holy shit.”

He wasn’t the type of guy to curse but god, when it came to you he couldn’t find any other expression that could emphasize how you made him feel.

All the blood rushed to his dick, making his boxers ever tighter it started to hurt. His eyes looked mesmerized at every part of your body, dwelling on the curves of your breasts, so perfect they seemed to have been made to fit perfectly on his hands, your legs and your bare pussy that so much begged to be touched.

It didn't matter how many times he saw you naked, even multiple times during the same day, the effect you had on him was always the same. You completely took his breath away.

“Fuck’s sake darling.” He tried to reach out for you but you dodged him and sat down on the edge of the bed. “You can't do this to me please. You want to kill me?”

You lay down on the bed on your stomach, letting his inquisitive and hungry eyes analyze every millimeter of your skin and especially of your ass.

“Baby, can you start please?” you asked, lifting your head and supporting it with one hand, looking at him with doe eyes and an amused smile on your lips.

“You're gonna be the death of me woman,” he murmured running his hands over his face in frustration, unable to take his eyes off you and unable to formulate a coherent thought anymore.

Just like that, IQ of 187 slashed to 60, like once Emily had said to him in one of the many occasions he was shamelessly checking you out.

But it wasn’t his fault, he couldn’t control it. It was as if his body acted on its own and his mind was completely blanked out.

After taking a deep breath, Spencer took the lotion you had just placed on the bedside table and poured some on his hand before turning to you and swallowing the lump in his throat.

He was on the verge of losing his mind and he hadn't even touched you yet.

His hands began to massage your shoulders, his thumbs pressing and moving in a circular way on your skin, firmly and decisively but at the same time with delicacy and gentleness.

You let out a sigh of contentment, a sigh that Spencer didn't miss but tried desperately to ignore. Your skin was on fire under his touch and all of your muscles relaxed at that contact.

Soon the lotion was absorbed and Spencer poured a little more onto his palm, rubbing his palms together before resuming massaging this time the area below your shoulder blades. While his fingers gracefully danced on your skin, giving you a very pleasant sensation, his eyes scanned your naked body, again and again and frustrated sighs escaped his mouth.

“How does it feel baby?” he asked, glancing at you and noticing your eyes were narrowed “Because I'm sure I'm about to heart attack.”

You giggled. “It feels incredible, you're so good with your hands darling.”

That line went straight to his dick and Spencer would’ve reckoned you said that on purpose. “Y/n… I swear… If you don’t stop torturing me like this.”

He bit his lip, as if this gesture could vent all the frustration and desire he felt in that moment. His hands descended along your back, massaging your skin with intensity and shrewdness, being careful to touch all the right points.

He let out another deep sigh and paused for a moment as his fingers perched on the curve of your ass, his mouth watering just at the sight.

“Baby?” your voice woke him up from his trance.

“Huh? Sorry,” he muttered as he resumed massaging you. “Baby… This is pure torture, I’m begging you I can't take it anymore.”

You giggled. “Don't be so dramatic.”

“Dramatic?” he exclaimed “I'm hard as a rock and I can't think of anything else but putting my face between your legs. Dramatic is an understatement.”

Even if his words made you hornier than you already were, you didn't want to give up, because God only knew how much you loved seeing him so desperate for you, so eager to touch you and pleasure you.

His hands began to descend more and more along your back, touching that particular spot that hurt you.

“Mmh yeah just like that, it feels so good.” A sigh of pleasure left your lips and Spencer almost exploded. You didn't deny you overemphasized that sigh a bit.

“Y/n. Fuck. Just stop it. You're driving me crazy right now.”

He let out another sigh as his fingers trailed further and further down your back. His thumbs massaged your lower back, deliberately brushing the curves of your ass.

“You’re so beautiful angel. How did I get so lucky?” he asked almost in a whisper, more to himself than to you. You smiled, feeling your body go up in flames as his fingers skillfully touched you. “I’m so enchanted by you.”

A moan of pleasure left your mouth as he began to massage your ass, squeezing it, pressing his fingers deeply on your ass. The back pain was almost forgotten, all you could focus in that moment on was Spencer and his hands.

You arched your back spontaneously, a gesture that triggered an almost animal reaction in Spencer. He couldn't take it anymore, he was sure if he waited a little longer he'd come in his pants.

As his hands went up along your sides – without letting a cry of disappointment escape you – he leaned over you, sowing a long trail of kisses from your ass, going up your back until he reached your neck. A smile crept on your lips, your eyes still closed.

“Baby I'm trying so hard to resist but I want to fuck you so bad right now I can’t take it anymore,” he whispered close to your ear, causing a rush of shivers through your entire body. “Will you let me fuck you?” He kissed your shoulders. “Will you let me make you feel good?”. One of his hands went down to your ass again as the other was resting next your head. “Please angel I want to make you feel so so good.”

He slipped his hand between your legs, which you spread spontaneously before your brain even gave the input to do so.

“Oh fuck… Yes,” you moaned as his fingers began to rub and touch your pussy from behind. You arched your back again to meet his movements and just the sound of your moans almost made him combust on the spot.

“Already so wet for me princess?” He bit the skin of your shoulders as his fingers touched you.

“Fuck… I'm always wet for you baby,” you gasped and it was so sexy Spencer wanted to take his cell phone, record your moans, set them as his ringtone and hear them until the end of his existence. “Ah yeah… You make me feel so good…”

At that point you were the one who couldn't resist anymore. You enjoyed provoking him but you wanted nothing more than to have him inside you, to feel him fucking you mercilessly, to pleasure him as much as he pleasured you.

You turned on your back and placed your hands on his face before drawing him into a kiss, which he returned in no time at all, sucking your soul out of your body.

He climbed onto the bed and positioned himself on top of you, his arms at the sides of your head while your hands immediately began to roam on his body and take his clothes off and roam on his body, now inexorably lost in each other.

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[mmountseb]

Your Shirt

Warnings: fluff, mentions of sex

Notes: haven’t wrote one in so long and decided to finally give it a go hope you like it

Your Shirt - Mason Mount fluff

As Mason lays beside Y/N in his bed, his heart swelled with a potent mixture of desire and pride as he gazed upon her wearing nothing but his England shirt, with his name proudly displayed on her back.

As much as she was from a different country she still felt the need to wear his country shirt with his name on her back

The fabric draped over her curves in a tantalizing display, accentuating her beauty and igniting a fierce sense of possessiveness within him.

He wanted her in a way they hadn’t been intimate yet

With each glance at her, Mason felt a surge of desire well up inside him, knowing that she had chosen to wear his shirt, a symbol of their connection and intimacy.

The sight of her wearing it filled him with a sense of validation and belonging, as if she had willingly wrapped herself in his identity, embracing all that he was.

It was the deeper, more profound sense of intimacy and trust that it represented.

In that moment, as they lay together in the quiet intimacy of their shared space, Mason felt an overwhelming sense of gratitude for the woman beside him, for her unwavering support and love.

As he reached out to trace the letters of his name on her back, Mason couldn't help but feel a surge of desire course through him, the warmth of her skin beneath his fingertips sparking a fire within him that burned with a fierce intensity.

Their bodies pressed together in the quiet intimacy of their shared space, as much as he was supposed to be paying attention to the film she had picked he couldn’t help himself but letting his mind wander to how would it feel to have her ride him while wearing his name on her back

His mind was travelling to forbidden territory, fueled by the intoxicating sight of her wearing nothing but his England shirt.

With each gentle movement she made, the fabric of the shirt shifted against her skin, accentuating her curves and igniting a primal desire within him.

As he watched her, a vivid image began to form in his mind—a fantasy of Y/N pleasuring him while still wearing his shirt.

The thought alone sent a shiver of anticipation down his spine, his body responding instinctively to the imagined sensation of her hands roaming his skin beneath the fabric.

Lost in the intensity of his desire, Mason couldn't help but hug her from behind while hiding his face on the curve of her neck and pulling her even closer enough to let her know that he was turned on

Y/N's innocent apology cut through Mason’s reverie, snapping him back to the present moment with a jolt.

He blinked, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment at the realization of where his thoughts had taken him.

Y/N: "I'm sorry, Mase. I didn't mean to... you know, make you feel... turned on."

Her words were tentative, laced with a hint of uncertainty as she glanced at him, her cheeks tinged with a delicate blush.

Mason: "No babe it's not your fault. You have nothing to apologize for."

His voice came out a little too hastily, a touch of awkwardness coloring his tone as he tried to reassure her.

Mason: "I mean, it's just... you look really good in my shirt, and... well, I couldn't help but let my mind wander a bit."

Y/N's eyes widened in surprise at his candid admission, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips as she processed his words.

Y/N: "Oh, um... thank you. I guess I didn't realize the effect it would have on you." She said turning around to face him on his embrace

Mason: "Yeah, well... you have that effect on me, Y/N. You always have."

His words came out softer than he had intended, tinged with a vulnerability he hadn't planned on revealing.

But as he looked into Y/N's eyes, he knew that he couldn't hide the truth from her—that she had always held a power over him, a power that transcended words and boundaries.

Y/N's smile widened at his admission, a warmth spreading through her at the depth of his feelings

She felt bravely enough to bite her lips and take her hands to his hair.

Not before taking his hands further down on her body earning a gently tugging on her soft but cheek

Y/N: "You have that effect on me too”

In that moment, as they shared a knowing glance, Mason felt a sense of connection and understanding wash over him

He felt the need to pull her even closer even if it wasn’t physically possible anymore

As their eyes locked in a shared moment of understanding and vulnerability, the air between them crackled with unspoken tension. In a surge of longing and desire, Mason leaned in closer, his lips hovering just inches from Y/N's.

With a whispered exhale, Y/N closed the remaining distance, her lips meeting his in a kiss that ignited a firestorm of passion between them.

Their mouths moved together with a fervent hunger, each touch sending sparks of electricity coursing through their veins.

His hands found their way to Y/N's waist, under the shirt, pulling her closer as he deepened the kiss, their bodies melding together in a primal dance of desire.

Y/N responded eagerly, her fingers tangling in his hair as she pressed herself against him, her heart racing with the intensity of their connection.

Their kiss was filled with an urgency born of longing and need, each touch a silent plea for more.

They lost themselves in the heat of the moment, the world falling away as they surrendered to the raw, unbridled passion that consumed them.

In that fleeting moment, as their lips met in a fervent embrace. There was no turning back anymore now

Lost in the intensity of the moment, they surrendered to the fire that burned between them, their kisses growing more urgent and desperate with each passing second.

Time seemed to stand still as they melted into each other, consumed by the raw passion that ignited their souls

Mason reached out, gently brushing a strand of hair from Y/N's face as he searched her eyes for any sign of regret or hesitation after pulling away from the kiss

Mason: "Are you okay? I didn't mean to... I mean, I hope I didn't..."

Y/N silenced him with a soft kiss, her lips meeting his in a tender embrace that spoke volumes more than words ever could.

Y/N: "I'm more than okay, Mase. I've never felt more alive than I do in this moment."

Mason felt a surge of relief wash over him at her words, his fears and doubts melting away in the warmth of her embrace.

Mason: "Good. Because I... I don't want to stop kissing you. Ever."

Their laughter mingled with the soft sounds of their shared breaths, filling the air with a sense of joy and contentment that seemed to transcend time and space.

Y/N: "Then don't. Kiss me again."

And with that simple invitation, Mason leaned in, capturing Y/N's lips in another electrifying kiss

[totheblood]

cool about it.

pairing: modern!ellie x reader

summary: ellie is your girlfriend, best friend, friend.... it's complicated... based on the song cool about it by boygenius

warnings: 18+: angst, cursing, drinking, ellie is lowkey a d*ck...

word count: 3.1k

a/n: i had plans to write this but you can thank jay (@elliewill) for begging me to write it because she loves angst... so this one is for her. also only two ai audios.. idk the angst ai audios made me sick i apologize

"i can walk you home and practice method acting."

There was an overwhelming silence in the room.

Your hand was wrapped in Ellie’s, her fingers brushing over the smooth skin covering your joints. You couldn’t see her in the dark room, but you knew she was smiling. You could smell the lavender and musk rolling off her in waves, almost rendering you useless as you leaned into her. She was intoxicating in every way a person could be. But as the lights came on and the credits began to roll, Ellie pulled her hand from yours, wiping at her jeans as she turned to the group. 

“That movie was shit.” A laugh escaped her lips as she stood up, not looking at you. Sometimes when Ellie was feeling ashamed about snubbing you in public, she had a hard time making eye contact with you after. You liked to believe it was the guilt, but you weren’t so sure of that. 

“I thought it was nice.” You smiled up at her, collecting your bag from the floor and throwing it over your shoulder. Ellie’s eyes flicked down to you, then rolled back into her head. 

“You think every movie is nice,” she teased, picking up her jacket that was thrown over the back of her seat. “It’s why you give every move 5 stars on Letterboxd.”

“That’s true.” Dina chimed in as the group began making their way out of the theater. “But I liked it, so I’m gonna have to agree with her on this one. Sorry, Ellie.”

“I don’t know,” Cindy spoke up, squinting as her eyes adjusted to the bright lights from outside. “How many Scream movies are they gonna make?”

“That’s what I’m saying!” Ellie practically screamed as she held the door for you. You wanted to think that the gesture meant more, but sadly she was just being polite. You were trying your best not to overanalyze everything Ellie did in relation to you but found it hard when her hand reached for yours in every dark room. Your thoughts were cut off by the sound of Ellie calling your name. 

“What?” You looked at Ellie, a confused look plastered on your face. 

“I asked if you wanted a ride to your apartment. Dina and Cindy are going back to the dorms.” She said matter of factly, slipping on her jacket. 

“Oh, yeah. That would be great.” You turned to say bye to Dina and Cindy before following Ellie to her car. You knew her car too well. The pickup truck she’d drive you to 7-11 in nearly every night was on its last leg and needed a repair almost every month, but Ellie swore by it. She always made some comment about how loyal she was for not abandoning her car, but you always joked back that she couldn’t afford a new one. She’d roll her eyes and grab the Slurpee cup from your hands, taking a sip as payback. 

It was tender moments like that one that kept you coming back, despite Ellie’s refusal to commit. It was an unspoken understanding between the both of you, but you knew that if you talked about it that Ellie would validate your fears. So you just didn’t talk about it. 

You let her lean over the seat and kiss you when you got in the car, but not before looking out the window to make sure Dina and Cindy had pulled off. Her mouth tasted like cherry and vanilla, and her hands pressed at the side of your cheeks. You had to romanticize moments like this, the secret kisses and stolen glances. Otherwise, it would just be pathetic. 

You were unsure if you were in love with Ellie, but you wanted to spend all of your free time in her back pocket. You wanted a necklace engraved with her name hanging around your neck as if she owned you. You wanted to bring her home to meet your parents, her hands shaking as they hugged her. Maybe it was love, or maybe it was you hanging onto the brief moments that her tongue was tucked into your cheek.

“If you’re gonna hold my hand throughout the movie, maybe you should just take me out on a date,” you laughed, watching her face fall. Mentally, you were cursing yourself, but your gentle smile remained.

“That’s not what this is.”

“I know, it’s just-” 

“The movie was scary, I thought you’d want me to hold your hand through it.” Ellie cut you off, her tone sharp. She began buckling her seatbelt, wanting to escape the conversation as soon as possible. “If I knew you��d make a big deal about it I wouldn’t have done it.”

“Yea, no. You’re right, Ellie.” You gave in like you usually did when it came to Ellie. If something you said came too close to referring to you and Ellie as an ‘actual relationship’, she would shut down completely. You don’t know why her body tensed up, or why she avoided eye contact, but you didn’t want to push it. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine, I just-” Ellie sighed as she put the car in drive, pulling out of the parking lot and onto the main road. One hand was planted on the steering wheel while the other rubbed at the bridge of her nose. “I don’t want this to be too complicated. I like what we have. It’s easy.”

“Yea, I know.” Your voice sounded as small as you felt. As easy as this was for Ellie, it was torture for you. Not only could you not tell her how you truly felt, but you also felt like you couldn’t tell any of your friends about it. Another frustrated sigh fell from Ellie’s lips, you could tell she was trying. 

“Look, Jesse is throwing a party tomorrow night.” She glanced over at you in the passenger seat, her expression unreadable. “How about you come with me?” 

You knew she wasn’t asking you out on a date. You knew that and yet your heart still leaped in your chest at her request. You knew it wasn’t a date and you still agreed to go.

-

You felt pathetic trying on every outfit in your closet, trying to make sure whatever you wore would accentuate your best features. You settled on a simple tank top and jeans, throwing a flannel over it in case it got cold. Despite knowing how the night was most likely going to go, you still wanted to look your best for Ellie. It was the first time she’s ever asked you to go anywhere public and in the back of your mind you imagined this night changing the dynamic of your relationship completely. 

Ellie picked you up early, her car making some weird sputtering noise as she pulled up. She looked you up and down when you climbed into the car, her stare making your cheeks heat up. 

“You look nice,” Ellie mentioned, hand on the steering wheel. She waited until you were buckled in to press a kiss to your lips, smiling before she pulled off. The conversation in the car was nothing substantial, just small talk about classes and friends, and how much work the both of you had to do. 

Outside of the frat house people were scattered on the lawn. A couple sat on the front porch making out while the music inside made the wood shake. There were a lot more people here than you anticipated, and you could tell Ellie was getting nervous. Usually, when she was nervous she’d reach for your hand, but tonight she trailed behind you.

Jesse, Dina, Cindy, and some of Jesse’s frat friends were huddled in the kitchen when you arrived. Jesse greeted you with a drunken smile and the slurring of your name, pulling you in for a hug.

“Nice to see you brought your girlfriend, El.” He joked, bringing Ellie into a half hug and attempting to give her a fist bump. Ellie’s mouth hung open as her eyes darted around the group, avoiding eye contact with you. Then she let out a laugh, a loud full-chested laugh as she held her stomach. 

“She- she’s not my girlfriend.” She managed between laughs. The way she said it as if it was a joke that she could ever date you made your heart drop. She still hadn’t even glanced at you. If she had she would’ve seen the way your smile faded and eyes dropped to the floor. 

“I know that,” Jesse laughed, lifting his red cup to his lips and taking another swig of his drink, “It’s just you guys always hang out… it’s a joke.”

“Damn right, it’s a joke.” Ellie chuckled with the rest of the group. You were struggling to find the humor in this so you just gave the group a tight-lipped smile and excused yourself. You pushed past the sweaty bodies to make your way into the living room where some guy was dipping red cups into a giant container filled with red liquid. He didn’t even look at you as he handed you a cup but you still thanked him.

You took the drink with you outside, sitting on the steps of the porch and drinking the vile liquid. You coughed on your first sip but as you downed it and the buzz filled your body it became more tolerable. About 30 minutes had passed with you sitting in there, occasionally saying hi to people you knew from class that were going in and out of the house. 

You didn’t even notice when Ellie came out and stood in front of you. Her arms were crossed over her chest, her eyebrows furrowed in confusion. 

“Where have you been all night?” Ellie’s voice came out meaner than expected, but she was starting to believe you had left her. “I’ve been looking for you.”

“Couldn’t have looked that hard,” a bitter laugh fell from your lips, your eyes glued to your phone, not wanting to look up at her. “I was sat here all night.”

“What the fuck is your problem?” Ellie’s hand shook your knee gently, urging that she wanted you to look up at her. When you did, you stared her down, a tightness behind your eyes. 

“It’s nothi-”

“It’s someth-”

“It’s you!” Your voice came out in a whisper-yell, causing Ellie to look around at the other people outside. No one was paying attention to you. “Earlier when you laughed when Jesse called me your girlfriend. That’s my problem, Ellie.”

“Oh my god,” Ellie groaned, her hands rubbing at her face. “You’re serious?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” You stood in front of her, the steps making you taller than her. 

“Cause that’s fucking ridiculous, I’m sorry.” Ellie turned around and began walking down the road towards her car, you hot on her trail. 

“That’s ridiculous?” She stopped halfway down the block, turning to you. You were almost sure she led you out here to make sure no one would see you fighting.

“Yes, it’s fucking ridiculous because you always do this!” Ellie’s voice sounded tired as if she was at her breaking point with you. “You always make something out of nothing. I hate to break it to you but you are not my girlfriend and you never have been.”

“But I’m something.” You fought back tears, the sentence coming out more like a question. 

“You’re-” Ellie sighed, looking away from you. “You’re my friend, okay? That’s what it is and if you can’t handle being my friend then maybe we shouldn’t be friends.” 

This was as close to a breakup as you would get with Ellie. 

“Friend.” The word sounded bitter on your tongue. “Friends don’t kiss each other, Ellie.” Your voice was small again.

“They do.” She stated matter-of-factly, “They do because we do. You have never been more to me than a friend.”

You couldn’t stop the tears in your eyes, you knew this was how she felt but never expected it to come out of her mouth. The 8 months you wasted now hitting you like a ton of bricks. Nodding you let out an ‘okay’ and began making your way down the street.

“Where are you going?” Ellie called after you, following you as you picked up your pace. 

“I’m going home, I’m calling an Uber.” You didn’t turn to look at her but could feel her behind you.

“Don’t..” She sighed again. “Don’t do that, I can take you.”

“No, I’d rather not see you again.” Ellie’s footsteps behind you stilled causing you to turn around. The hurt on her face was evident, though no tears fell. She was just staring through you. 

“Fine,” was all she said before turning around and heading back to the party.

-

You didn’t talk to or hear from Ellie for a month after the party. She didn’t call to make sure you made it home safe or text you to tell you she was sorry. There was nothing on her end or your end so you stopped talking. Dina and Cindy barely noticed the shift between the two of you with finals coming up so they never asked.

You were left to mourn what felt like a relationship, but never really was. There was a person who knew everything about you, how you scraped your knee when you were nine, and how much you hate blueberries, who no longer spoke to you. You wondered what she did with that information. If everytime she had a blueberry muffin she thought of you. 

Not to your knowledge, Ellie did think about you. She thought about the way your hair smelt and how you used to sing along to throwback songs in the car with her. She thought about how she used to tell you the things she used to be scared to say out loud, and how you would rub at her shoulder to soothe her. She thought about the scrape and the blueberries and the way your eyes glossed over when you cried. She tried not to think about that night at that party and what your eyes looked like.

As summer came around and everyone packed their bags to go back home, you found yourself enjoying the heat from the sun as it prickled at your skin. Summer’s in Jackson were filled with fireworks, sidewalk chalk, and popsicles. Groups of teenagers hung out in the parking lot of the local convenience shop, drinking redbulls and laughing loudly with their friends. 

Jackson was small so the fear of running into Ellie only grew as the summer went on. You did your best to avoid the places you knew she went, until you couldn’t. You found yourself inside the brightly lit convenience store right by Ellie’s house, looking through the candy section for gummy bears. It was late and this was the only store open close enough for you to ride your bike to so you took that risk. 

As if fate was out to get you, Ellie walked into the store phone in hand and freckles more prominent than they usually were. Her face had a little bit of a red tint to it and her hair was pulled back into a bun. She looked relaxed, but more than that she looked fine. You don’t know why it bothered you, but it did.

Upon seeing you her entire demeanor changed. Her entire body became rigid, mirroring yours as she contemplated on what to do. She looked to the packages overflowing in your hand and laughed. She wanted to make a joke, but didn’t know how you would take it so she remained silent. 

“Hey,” she pursed her lips as she approached you. You looked like you had seen a ghost and Ellie wanted to laugh, to kiss at your nose until you smiled but she doubted that would happen.

“Hey,” you responded flatly, not wanting to give her any satisfaction. 

“Long time, no see,” she breathed out a short laugh, looking around. Ellie forgot what she came in here for. 

“Yeah,” you rolled your eyes and pushed past her, placing your things on the counter. The guy behind the counter began ringing them up, eyes looking in between you and Ellie as she followed you to the register. 

“Do you think we can talk?” Her voice was hushed, smooth even, and god you missed it. You glanced at her, worry was written all over her face. You sighed and reluctantly agreed. When you got outside you placed your bag in the basket of your bike and turned towards her. 

“I’ll walk you home, but after that I’m leaving, okay?” This was the rudest you have ever been to Ellie and you felt awful. You were just protecting yourself but you didn’t want her to see this as a way to wiggle back into your life. 

“Cool, cool.” Ellie responded as she watched you walk with your bike, your hand firmly on the handles. She glanced over at you, heart warming at the sight of your face. “How’ve you been?”

“Good, finals went well.”

“That’s good.”

“Do you regret it?” You stopped in the middle of the sidewalk to look at her, to see her reaction when she answered. 

“No,” was all she said, making you roll your eyes. 

“Why?”

“Cause I wasn’t ready,” she sighed and continued walking, hoping you would follow her. “I would’ve destroyed you.”

“You did.”

“No, I didn’t,” her green eyes looked dark in the illumination of the street lights. “Look at you, you’re here and you’re still you.” 

“I’m not still me,” you rolled your eyes, “I’m scared-”

“-I was scared,” her voice over lapped yours, the bite in her tone back. “I was your first… whatever that was… but you weren’t mine.” 

“Way to rub it in.”

“No, I mean,” she took a deep breath, “I did the relationship shit before and it didn’t end well. It made me into this. I think if you and me became real… it would’ve not only killed you but also me.”

“I think you should’ve let it happen. Give me that choice.”

“I did what was best for me,” Ellie’s voice was strong, she was sure of herself, “and for you, but you don’t have to believe that.”

“I don’t believe it.”

“That’s okay.” 

“Do you miss me?” you whispered.

“All the time,” she smiled to herself, “but I’m doing fine.”

When you got a good look at her you noticed the bags under her eyes, the worry line on her forehead that was growing. She even looked smaller. Nothing about her made it seem like she was doing okay, but it didn’t make sense to press her on the matter. It hurt, but a part of you understood it, understood her. The idea of getting close to someone terrified you, and you couldn’t pretend that you didn’t understand where she was coming from, but it didn’t help that her deep-seated fear was now being passed down to you.

“That’s good,” you gave her a fake smile, “I’m happy to hear it.”

“This is me,” she gestured towards her house before turning back to you and giving you one last smile, “You’ll be okay.”

“I know.”

ai audios:

[bsdawgz]

「 ✦ All to Myself ✦ 」 Bungo Stray Dogs, Port Mafia: Ryūnosuke Akutagawa

A/N: aku won the poll! thank you everyone who voted and everyone who has been so supportive of me and my fics ♡ after writing this little ~drabble~ about what it would be like sleeping soundly next to aku, of course i just had to follow it up with some soft smut, too hehe. if you voted for atsushi, don't worry – i'm prolly going to write one for him next!

genre: f!reader, established relationship + virginity loss, fluffy smut!

content warning: MDNI! mentions of aku’s childhood trauma. bj, virginity loss (aku), brief blood mention (back scratching), a teeny bit of possessiveness, unprotected sex THIS IS MAD RISKY IRL JSYK, tons of reassurance, validation + validation seeking, and lots of saying "i love you" 🥹

summary: on a cold, february night, a night like every other night in this kill-or-be-killed world, fingers are reaching for fingers clumsily, pondering the meaning of the word safety and wondering if it’s possible to find it in another person.

“you’re making a really cute face right now, ryū,” you giggle, poking at your boyfriend’s cheek. boyfriend – the idea of it was still so foreign to you and him both. you never thought that akutagawa would end up confessing his feelings to you – let alone having feelings for you in the first place. ryūnosuke was short-tempered and, as you quickly came to know as a civilian, feared. however, your friendship with gin had brought you close to him and now, here you two were, perhaps against all odds.

ryū's cheeks flush at your compliment; he paws your hands away from his face, still not used to your casual touch. his eyebrows furrow; his nose scrunches. “don’t mock me,” he mutters, averting your gaze awkwardly as he moves his weight away from you. then, a quiet smile settles on his lips as he steals a glance at you from the corner of his eyes. your face lights up in response – there’s that tiny crack of tenderness, a secret kept just between you two. it makes warmth spread all over you, then all over him.

tonight is a cold night, a night like every other night in this kill-or-be-killed world. somewhere in a slum not far off from yokohama, there is a family of orphan children sleeping in a slum. on a suicide mission about a mile east from akutagawa’s apartment, a group of port mafia executives are breathing their last breath. in the alleyway just around the corner, there is a man with a gun pressed to his temple.

but on this cold, february night, a night like every other night in this kill-or-be-killed world, akutagawa and you are inside – sitting on a mattress that has barely been slept on, fingers reaching for fingers clumsily, pondering the meaning of the word safety and wondering if it’s possible to find it in another person.

“can i… kiss you?” the request is so simple, but so special. affection is such a strange thing like that. akutagawa’s eyes widen, as though he’s bewildered by his own words, surprised that he's made such a request in the first place. but it’s too late to take back the words now – not that he wants to, anyway.

you’re both inept, fumbling to get closer to each other. shaky hands reach for your waist as you crawl into his lap, making him shift at the sudden closeness. it’s not your first time kissing someone, and you’re by no means a virgin, but akutagawa and you have never even cuddled, let alone been this intimate together. you feel timid fingers awkwardly stroking your hair, then his lips hesitantly brushing against yours. for the first time, ryūnosuke has no idea what he’s doing, and there’s no hiding it – there’s an intense heat radiating throughout his body and a clamminess in his hands, which he simply doesn’t know where to put, every time your lips meet. when he feels the soft, wetness of your tongue caressing his, he pulls back, an ashamed look on his face. “i… sorry.”

“you’re making that cute face again…” your voice is gentle, caring. you don't mean to tease him, yet a wave of embarrassment rushes through him. he looks away, absolutely frustrated with his inexperience and the way that you see right through him. he feels so incompetent. he’s just about ready to protest, but before he can, you plant a kiss on his cheek, giving him yet another reason to blush. “it’s okay, just let me show you,” you coo, threading your fingers through his. “just trust me. okay, ryū?”

he looks at you and nods sheepishly, letting you guide his hands back onto your hips. tilting your head to the side, you bring your lips to his once more. it’s a passionate kiss – long, languid, full of tenderness. this time, when you sweep your tongue into his mouth, he lets you in willingly, sinking deeper into your kiss, his fingers grasping the fabric of your blouse tighter. when you finally pull back, akutagawa’s cheeks are pink to the tips of his ears, making you giggle as he slowly lets go of you. “mhm, that was much better…” you hum in approval, playing with the hands that are laying in your lap.

your touch has always been different from what he's used to – you're kind, forgiving. you are the embodiment of what he's spent his life convincing himself is a weakness, yet you've proven to him that it's your greatest strength. he nods at you, an almost serious look on his face like he's memorizing your movements, then he leans in for another kiss – you feel his fingers meshing through your hair as he brings you closer. he’s gentle with his hands as he weaves them carefully through the strands, cautious not to snag or tangle them as he tucks them behind your ear.

then, to your surprise, you feel his lips elsewhere – the heat on his mouth on your neck, his soft breath traversing down your skin as he traces a line to your collarbone. “is it okay?” his voice holds nothing but compassion – a forbidden trace of humanity in akutagawa that he spent his life unlearning for the sake of survival – a speck of vulnerability that proves you're not you're not so different from him, after all. he crumbles, shatters under you. you nod in response and guide him to your shoulder, unbuttoning your blouse.

“ryū…” his name forms on your lips before you even have the chance to think it, but it’s only natural now – “do you love me?”

your words catch him off-guard. of all the things you could ask him, he never would have expected this – yet, just as you, he finds that he already knows the answer and that all he has to do is confirm it. “yes.” it’s a quiet response, uttered like a secret, as though if someone were to discover the truth, it would mean certain death for the two of you. then, he meets your gaze waveringly, suddenly realizing that he’s exposed his hand without knowing your own response. “do you love me back?”

there’s no denying it in the way you touch him, taking his cheek in your hand as you plant a soft kiss to his soft, waiting lips. “i love you. i always will.” – those words he’s never heard that make his hands tremble. he reaches for you – and for once in his life, he feels what he’s been yearning for is falling perfectly into his fingertips. the scent of your lavendar shampoo, lingering in the tendrils of your hair; the softness of your skin against his lips; the quiet sounds of your gasp when his teeth graze your neck – he wants all of it –

– is it really okay for him to have it?

can he have you like this? –

he’s unbuttoning the rest of your blouse now, trailing gentle kisses down your chest. clumsy hands struggle to unclasp your bra before palming and squeezing at the swell of your breasts, cherishing the experience of feeling another human being’s naked skin for the very first time. you gasp as he thumbs over your hardened nipples, then you feel the wetness of his mouth exploring the exposed skin with slow flicks of his tongue. his wandering hands feel up the sides of your body, eager to burn your shape into his memory. he doesn’t have to say that you’re beautiful – his eyes tell you so as he gazes at you hazily through thick lashes, exploring every part of you attentively. “ryū–” you moan out, your voice a whisper. “can i touch you, too?”

nodding, ryūnosuke undoes his shirt and slacks while you finish undressing. slipping the now-unbuttoned shirt down his toned shoulders, his body tenses at his complete vulnerability. the thought of being unclothed without rashōmon at his disposal is terrifying. “we don’t have to,” you reassure him, bringing your lips to the back of his hand. “you don’t have to give me anything.”

“– but i want to.”

he interrupts you quickly, embarrassed at the sheer neediness in his voice and appalled by how easy it must be to read him right now. “i want you to touch me.” he looks away, embarrassed – there's no one in the world that he trusts more than you. then, gulping, he steadies his voice, finally meets your gaze determinedly. “i don’t want anyone else but you to touch me – will you touch me?”

you nod, then you seek him.

he grows in the palm of your hand. it's the first time he's ever felt the touch of someone other than himself, and his eyes watch you carefully, timidly – the way that those slender fingers of yours curl around the base and stroke him. your touch feels so different than his own. your movements are slow and intentional, so unlike the way he touches himself when he’s just trying to finish himself off in a hurry.

your gaze is hot on him, and he feels his cheeks burning under your scrutiny – and oh, wow, your hand is so small and so soft – and it feels so good wrapped around him like this. his breath is stuck in his throat; stifling a sound as you palm the wet tip, he watches as your finger collects a string of precum leaking at the slit. then, a muffled noise escapes him as he feels a wetness teasing at him – is that your tongue? wait... is he moaning right now?

he gasps, eyes widening as he realizes what’s happening – the gorgeous sight of you on your knees for him, in between his legs. you’re kissing the inside of his thigh, your hand still firm around him, and then your mouth is full of him, and he’s stammering out your name relentlessly. he’s out of breath, fingers threading through your hair, petting your head as you suck him off. “– a-ah… feels… good…” he's shocked at how vocal he is and wants to hide his face out of embarrassment, so he lets his head fall back and covers his eyes with his arm, hoping you won't see the sort of face he might be making for you.

then, you feel him reach for your breasts once more, molding them to the shape of his hands, before he tugs you into his lap, pulling you into another deep kiss. “can i have you?” he asks. there’s a hint of desperation in his voice. ryūnosuke is staring into your eyes seriously now, a certain urgency reflected in those dark, blackened irises of his, as though he’s afraid you’ll disappear before his eyes and might vanish into dust, as though this is some false reality. murmuring a soft ‘always’ in affirmation, you feel him press his mouth to your skin once more and litter your neck and shoulders with kisses, hands traversing across your skin like he can’t get enough of your body, craving to memorize every morsel of you.

“i love you,” he whispers, voice faltering as he meets your gaze. he melts into nothingness against your open mouth, pouring himself into your kisses, and soon, he grows hungry. his movements become more aggressive, fingers digging into the flesh of your hips, carving craters into the dips in your skin. you feel him mark you, his teeth scraping your neck slightly as he sucks harshly on your tender skin, leaving behind splotches of pink and red. your fingers tangle in his black and silver hair as you bite back a moan at the pang of pain and pleasure intertwined – but your thoughts are filled with nothing but him as you chant in your head, i love you, i love you, i love you.

then, you ease him inside of you slowly, and you hear him moan softly into the crook of your shoulder and tighten his grip on your waist as you sink onto him completely. “nghh–...” the feeling of your wet warmth is too much to handle – he feels like he could cum any moment just from being inside of you. he never imagined that his first time would be raw – and that it would feel so, so good like this. you’re pulsing all around him, squeezing him so perfectly. with you gripping him so sweetly, he can every single one of your movements – each agonizing throb of your aching core. it’s like nothing he’s ever experienced before.

what if he doesn’t last long? just the thought of it makes him feel so embarrassed and ashamed of himself – but as you lay a kiss on the protrusion of his cheekbone, looking at him with those kind, compassionate eyes, he’s reminded that there’s nothing he has to prove to you right now. he blushes, cheeks turning red, then brushes his lips against yours again. “it’s okay, you can go slow if you want,” you whisper in his ear, as though you've read his mind.

his movements are awkward, just as you’d expect from someone with no experience, but you guide him until his thrusts are steady. “is… is it okay? am i… doing okay?” ryū asks anxiously. there’s that incredibly cute, worried expression on his face again, that face that he makes when words fail him and confidence escapes him. his cheeks are flushed with heat as he looks up at you, waiting to hear your validation.

"don't worry so much," you murmur, caressing his cheek with your thumb. "you don't have to hold back with me, ryū. i want to make you feel good, okay?

i love you."

you feel akutagawa's weight shift on top of you. then, those eyes – eyes that echo your own emotions, eyes that are baring everything, are peering at you yearningly. in the sliver of moonlight peeking through his bedroom curtains, you can see all of him now – pale skin reflecting the silver glow of the sky, raised scars on his body that immortalize a traumatic past, bruises from pushing himself past the point of redemption in training. this is no hellhound – this boy is distinctively human; and these are the markings to prove it.

"i love you, too," he says breathlessly, in a voice as earnest as your own, "i love you so much."

he buries himself inside of you once more, pleasuring in the warmth of your walls and the way that your body grips him. there is no need to hide tonight from each other tonight, not when it's just the two of you in this room. as you wrap your legs around him, you feel his pelvis meet yours in slow, deliberate strokes. he focuses his attention on you completely. he's so beautiful, so loving – and you wonder what good you might have done in a past life time to be loved so tenderly by this man. allowing yourself to be swept into the tide of hips, you moan out his name as his pace quickens – as he pushes himself into you deeper, closer, until you're clinging onto him, your fingers burrowing into his shoulders. "ryū... you feel really good, ryū…”

the way that you coo for him makes his eyes widen –

"say it again. my name. please.

tell me i make you feel good. i need to hear it again..."

and you'll say it again – as many times as he wants. his name spills out of your lips like a broken dam and you overflow, mouthing 'i love you' over and over into the crease of his jaw as your nails rake across his back, piercing flesh and pricking blood.

"i... i own you now... you belong to me – you're mine, okay? only mine," he tells you, gazing into your eyes longingly, desperate to have the words repeated back to him.

but of course you’re his – you’ve only ever been his. “yours, ryū,” you whisper back, reaching up to stroke his cheek with your thumb, and for just a moment you could swear there’s tears about to well up in his disbelieving eyes. “i’m all yours – i’ll always be yours.”

tonight, it is cold, february night in yokohama. it is like any other night in this kill-or-be-killed world –

– except tonight, ryūnosuke and you are inside his apartment, sheltered from the cruelty of the outside world. your fingers are interlocked as you hold one another tightly, in the most intimate of ways – and for the first time in ryū's life, he feels his trembling hands become still, his breath become steady, his heartbeat slow.

outside, there's a drizzle of rain that's begun to prickle at the window panels in the shadows of his darkening room. somewhere in the slums, just at the outskirts of yokohama, there is a boy that looks like him, who knows nothing but suffering, who owns nothing at all, who has no one at all.

but tonight, none of that matters –

tonight, all that matters is this man in front of you, who is pulling you tight against his chest, and that soft voice rustling in your ear, whispering, "i'm yours, too. i'm all yours."

author ps: eeeek i hope i did ok!!! wc was a bit higher than usual b/c i really do love aku, so i'm a little nervous T_T i really did enjoy writing this one, so i hope that you also like it and that i did aku justice. also, if anyone is interested in being added to a future taglist, please let me know and i’ll set one up!

© BSDAWGZ 2024. Do not steal or repost ANY of my works! That’s plagiarism, and it’s mean. :(( Beautiful dividers by @ v6que~!

[shenanigans-and-imagines]

I Want It All: Part 2

Part 1, Part 3

Astarion x AsexaulBard!Tav Masterlist

Astarion x Reader, Astarion x Tav, Astarion x Asexual!Reader, Astarion x Bard!Reader

Kissing, Angst, Asexual Angst, Allusions to Past Relationships

Summary: You and Astarion had been playing this little game of yours for a while; he pretends to care, you pretend not to fall for it. It’s easy, even fun at times. The trouble is, what happens the moment you can’t pretend anymore?

A/N: OMG, thank you to everyone who has read the first part. I was not expecting for it to blow up like it did. Hopefully this next part doesn't disappoint. And as always REBLOG AND COMMENT IF YOU LIKE THIS! I NEED VALIDATION TO SURVIVE!!! (Especially those I've tagged. I'd really like to know if you still like it.)

Word Count: 3.0K

How could ten feet of hallway feel like a death march?  It was a question you never thought to pose to yourself, until you faced the distance between your door and Astarion’s. 

What could you even say to him? An apology was always a good start, but for what? Neither of you made any formal declarations of intentions towards each other. That was the whole point of this game of yours, to keep the other guessing. It wasn’t like you outright lied to him or made promises you didn’t intend to keep. 

So why did you feel so guilty? 

Of course, you could be working yourself up over nothing. He could just as easily laugh in your face. 

With all these thoughts swirling in your mind, you were almost surprised to see the light beneath his door reflecting on your boots.

A lump of panic tightened your throat. From the angle of the light, he wouldn’t be able to tell you were standing there. There was still time to turn around, put it off until morning–.

“The door is open, darling.”

Your heart skipped a beat at his voice. He didn’t sound upset or angry. Hell, he didn’t even sound smug. It was that rare gentleness he only took on when nobody else was looking. There were times it seemed to surprise even him. You didn’t stand a chance. 

With a breath, you opened the door. 

Warm candle light met your eyes, illuminating the room with a soft orange glow. The room itself was nothing special. Similar to yours it really only held the bed, desk and chair. The only noticeable difference was the widow facing due east, its curtains open allowing a view of the rain pittering against the window. 

Astarion had insisted on this room. You understood why now. He always wanted to start the day facing the rising sun. 

For a brief moment, you allowed the stillness of the moment to calm you, before turning your gaze to the man himself. 

Oh thank the Gods, he was still dressed. 

Astarion sat on the edge of the bed, in his most comfortable white ruffled shirt and black pants. Despite his casual appearance he still came off as nothing short of a prince awaiting his court. His lips were posed in a knowing smile as he regarded you, tilting his head to the side. The light of the candles caught his scarlet eyes, making them burn.

“Are you going to keep that open all night?” he asked. 

Blinking, you turned to see your hand was still on the door handle. A little too quickly, you shut it behind you. 

“Sorry,” you mumbled, not knowing what else to say. 

“It’s quite alright,” he said, his tone only mildly teasing. 

You stood there awkwardly, not really knowing where to put your hands. How in the hells were you meant to start a conversation after everything he saw? You were a bard for Gods’ sake. Talking was supposed to be something you were good at. Still the silence lingered, becoming worse with every second. 

Astarion raised an eyebrow. “What are you still doing way over there?”

You shrugged, feeling the heat of embarrassment rise up your neck. “Is there somewhere else you want me?”

He gave you a playful smirk, offering his hand. “Come on. I’d promise not to bite, but…” He trailed off, widening his smile enough for his fangs to show. 

Of all things, it was that small flash of teeth which put you at ease. He was poking fun at you. Surely that was a good sign. 

Slowly, you walked toward him, taking his outstretched hand. He was cool to the touch. His fingers a mixture of manicured softness and well fought calluses, leaving your skin tingling in its wake. You centered in on sensation letting it the ground you back into the here and now. 

He guided you to sit next to him, never letting his touch slip from yours. 

“That was…quite a performance,” he said. 

You gave a half hearted smile. It was as good a place to start as any, but you couldn’t look at him, instead focusing on the way his hand intertwined with yours. It should have frightened you or at the very least made you suspicious, but it felt too good. You didn’t want to break the spell. 

“I wasn’t expecting it,” you said, honestly. 

He gave a hum of agreement. “I don’t think any of us were.”

His hand trailed further up your arm, allowing his thumb to brush against the scars on your wrist. 

A small shiver went through you. The scars on your neck had long since faded after the first night you let him feed on you. You’d made a point to only let him bite your wrist from that point onward. It was meant to hedge expectations. You’d thought a neck bite would make the act more charged than you intended. What a fool you were. Of course he’d find a way to make even the barest touch feel intimate.

“The melody alone…I’ve never heard its equal,” he continued. 

You nodded, unsure what to do with his praise. You couldn’t dismiss it as easily as before. He sounded too sincere. 

“Thank you,” you said, softly, “but I’m not sure how much credit I can take. It felt more like the song was playing me.” 

“That doesn’t surprise me. How else could you explain such radiance?”

You felt now was the time for you to say something clever, but any words that might have formed fell heavy on your tongue as he moved your wrist to his lips, pressing a kiss to the raised marks of your skin. Your heart began to pound. No doubt he could feel every racing beat of it. 

“Are you hungry?” you said, the words blurting out before you could stop them. 

He laughed, the vibrations running down the length of your arm. 

“Certainly,” he purred, turning his gaze to you. “But not for blood. I was hoping you’d let me indulge in some other parts of you.” 

Panic struck you then, turning in your stomach as your eyes widened. “Astarion…”

“Don’t get shy on me now,” he said. He still held your wrist delicately in his hand allowing the other to brush lightly against your cheek. 

Your breath shook and damn you to the hells if you knew exactly the cause. 

“I saw you,” he whispered. “I saw what it is you truly desire. It was beautiful, passionate…starving, and all for me.” He leaned it close, the warmth of his breath dancing against your lips. “Am I wrong?”

Your mouth became dry as sand, forcing you to swallow. “Not entirely.”

“Would it surprise you then, to know I want the same thing?”

The sudden urge to laugh rose within you. Gods was this really happening? “I rather doubt that.”

“Then allow me to show you.” 

Before you could say another word, he closed the small gap between you, pressing his lips to yours. 

It was…nice; really nice, if you were being honest. His hand cupped your cheek, as if it were made of the finest porcelain. There was a care to his touch you hadn’t expected, leaving the door open for you to pull away. The assurance was enough to make you want to stay. 

You’d always liked this part. In truth, you craved physical affection; holding hands, hugging, kissing, they had a way of making you feel so much closer to those you cared for. The trouble always came when people expected more.  

He pressed further into you, teasing your mouth to spark a reaction. 

You needed to pull away. If there was a time for you to stop, this was it. But, it did feel so good. Maybe you could indulge a little longer. It was just kissing. 

Your own hand reached out, lacing your fingers through the hair on the back of his neck. 

He hummed in approval, pulling you closer as the kiss deepened. 

You let yourself get lost in him. It was easy to forget when he held you so reverently. For a moment you could convince yourself this was all there was. 

A slight shift in his body. His hands grasping you just a little tighter and next thing you knew you were on your back with Astarion hovering over you. 

His low moan poured into your mouth as he slotted himself between your legs and pressed his weight against you. 

Fear spiked within you, forcing the air from your lungs. Shit, this was happening.  

His lips left yours trailing kisses across your cheek to the underside of your jaw. 

“Just relax,” he murmured. “I’ve got you. You’re doing so well for me.” 

His lips met your neck and it was taking everything in your power to breathe normally. 

This wasn’t what you wanted, but it didn’t feel bad. Astarion was being so tender with you. Maybe, if you went through with it, things wouldn’t have to change. You could still flirt and tease. Hell maybe you could convince him to simply hold you now and again. All you’d have to do is let him have something for himself. It was more than a fair trade. Besides, he was experienced in this, certainly more than others you’d been with. You could do this for him. It’s not like you hadn’t done it before. 

His hands moved further down your body, teasing the edge of your shirt. 

The memory of that twisted melody came into your heart filling you with dread. The way you had been so willing to morph yourself into what somebody else wanted for the sake of not being alone. Wasn’t this supposed to be different? 

“Wait, stop,” you said, before you had time to question yourself. 

To your relief, Astarion didn’t hesitate pulling his hands away as if they just caught fire. 

“Are you alright?” he asked. “Did I hurt you?” 

You shook your head, that familiar guilt twisting inside you at his concern. “No. You didn’t do anything, I just…” You swallowed. You weren’t going to cry.  Not now. Gods, you were such an idiot. “Could you…could you move off me? Please.” 

His brow furrowed, but he did not question you as he pulled himself away. 

Cool air rushed over you, pulling a sigh of relief from your lips. For a long time you just laid there, calming the rush of adrenaline pumping through your blood. It was over. It was all over.

With an effort, you pulled yourself up to a sitting position. Out of the corner of your eye Astarion watched you, his expression unreadable. You’d expect nothing less from him.  

“I’m sorry,” you managed. 

“I don’t need an apology,” he said, firmly, “but I would like an explanation.” 

Slowly, as if to keep from frightening an cornered animal, he turned his body to face yours, making a point to keep a respectable distance. He really wasn’t going to make this easier for you. 

“Did I do something wrong?” he asked. 

You shook your head fervently. “No. No, you were perfect. That’s rather the problem.”

His lips turned into a hard line, clearly unsure how to take your statement. His eyes then narrowed, leaning closer to more carefully examine your features. 

“You’re not cursed, are you?” he asked, suddenly. 

The question caught you off guard, forcing a laugh. “What?”

“You know, something something, any man who touches you below the belt is smited. That kind of thing.” 

You shook your head, baffled as to where this conversation was headed. “No.” 

He nodded, in consideration “Alright then, any diseases you neglected to inform me about?”

“No.”

“Hells, don’t tell me you’re a virgin.”

“Gods no!” you snapped, feeling your whole body go flush. 

“Then what is it? One second you were there and the next…” he trailed off, before forcing a deep breath. “Look, I’m not angry, but if there is something wrong, I’d prefer to know.” 

“Nothing is wrong,” you insisted. 

“So why the hesitation?” he pressed. “You find me desirable. I’ve made clear I find you desirable. We’ve been dancing around each other for weeks and even have a proper mattress for the occasion. The only conclusion I can come to is there’s something you’re not telling me.” 

You opened your mouth only to close it again, wracking your brain on how to start this.

To your shock, Astarion remained silent. It wasn’t the quiet entitled anger you had received in the past or even idle confusion. He looked like he truly wanted to know. 

You let out a long sigh. There was no getting around it now. 

“I do find you desirable,” you said. “The trouble is, physically speaking…I don’t really.”

He raised a doubtful eyebrow. “Is this your way of telling me you don’t think I’m pretty?”

You had to laugh, shaking your head. “Astarion, I promise, you are possibly the most beautiful man I’ve ever met. But that doesn’t factor into why I desire you.”

“Doesn’t it?”

“No,” you said plainly. “It never has. Not with anyone.”

He cocked his head, his eyes caught between his natural suspicion and genuine surprise. “Never?”

You shrugged. 

“Above such things are you?” he said, dryly. 

“It’s not as if I’ve taken a vow of chastity,” you snapped. “I’m not trying to achieve some arbitrary moral purity. I just never felt attracted to anyone in that way. I can look at someone and know objectively they’re beautiful or handsome or any number of other descriptors, but that need, that hunger so many people describe, it just never clicked.”

He continued to stare at you blankly before his mouth turned into a hard line. 

“So when I was kissing you, just now. You didn’t feel anything?”

“Not especially,” you said, a little guilty. “Don’t get me wrong, it was pleasant. I do like being close to you. It’s just the things kissing leads to I’m not a fan of.”

You didn’t know what to make of the look that shot across his face. He seemed lost, somewhere far away, before blinking back to the present. 

“Why didn’t you say something sooner?” he asked. 

“I meant to,” you assured. “I should have. I just…sometimes forget I don’t need a reason to say no.” 

You took a breath, willing yourself to calm. 

“I’ve spent a lot of my life thinking some part of me was broken. That if I waited long enough or tried hard enough, I’d feel the things I’m supposed to feel. I’ve come to terms with the fact I never will. I’m not upset about it. It just means that what I want, what I desire from another person, it’s different than most.” 

He took that in, his red eyes peering deep into yours as if truly looking at you for the first time. 

“So, if it’s not my body you desire, what else could you possibly want?” 

You stared at him as his expression suddenly hardened. His whole body turned on edge as if waiting for you to cast the ending blow. 

“What?” he prompted, sharply. 

You shook your head. “You really don’t understand, do you?”

He gave you an incredulous look. 

Keeping your movements slow and obvious, leaned closer to him. You reached out, moving towards his hand. 

He didn’t pull away, but the guarded expression never faded. 

You took that as a good sign, allowing your hand to rest on top of his as you looked him straight in the eyes. 

“Astarion, when I say I desire you, I mean all of you,” you said, keeping your tone as clear and open so there could be no doubt of the truth of your words. “I want your attentions. I want your adoration. I want your petty jealousies and loud annoyances. I want your teasing. I want your promises and your secrets. I want nights filled with your laughter and mornings in your arms. I want to feel your heart in my chest. I want to know it beats for me. And in return, I want to give you mine. So no, I’m not especially interested in your body. But for the rest? I’m insatiable.”

He only stared at you. You supposed you should take it as a triumph. You’d found an effective way to shut him up at least; declare your overwhelming love for him.

“I know,” you said, softly. “It’s a lot. I’m a lot. But, you don’t have to worry. I don’t expect anything.”

“You don’t?”

You gave a self deprecating smile.“Despite all evidence to the contrary, I’m not an idiot. I know whatever…favor you gave me, it wasn’t real.”

“That’s not true,” he said quickly.

You gave him a doubtful look. 

He grimaced. “Alright, maybe some of it was, but–.”

“It’s fine,” you cut off. “I know what game I was playing. I’m just not very good at it.” 

You pulled your hand away, letting your eyes fall from his. Despite the coolness of his touch, somehow your hand felt even colder at the loss of it. 

“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice unnaturally unsure of itself. 

You tried to smile. “Don’t be. I’ll get over it. I always do.”

Something in his eyes flicked in the firelight. His expression turned contemplative as he looked deeply into your eyes. 

“I rather doubt that,” he murmured.

A sharp pain buried its way into your chest at his words, not because they were cruel or came from a place of arrogance, but because they were undeniably true. 

You pushed yourself off the bed, forcing down the well of emotion threatening to burst from your eyes at any moment. 

“I should go,” you said. “Goodnight.” 

You made your way towards the door only to stop at the sound of your name. It was said so gently, like a desperate prayer. 

You didn’t reach for it, not this time.  It already burned too much. 

Without another word, you stepped out into the hallway, shutting the door behind you leaving nothing but dark and silence.

Tag List:

@yaimlight, @hallowedandhungry, @bluestuesday, @meggsssart, @murmoruno, @prophetszendo, @cabbit17, @sunset-sunrise-sunshine, @isharaneith, @thisisew, @easy-there-leftovers, @ohhnoimbisexual, @dolceaspidenera, @dork-of-the-universe, @righteous-scamp, @ambrolyer, @our-little-shared-infinity, @baldursgateslittlestar, @pkail, @nanaoise08squad, @becksynthetic, @deliriumcrow, @badgerstorms-art, @taraiel, @writingmysanity

[obessedwithfictionalmen]

Stop trying to feel everything

John Egan X Lieutenant Colonel!Reader

Summary: When a woman comes on the base, ranked higher than anyone. Bucky wants a date with her!

Warning: Historical inaccuracies/ sexism/ alcohol use/ mention of death/ use of Y/n/

Word count: 850

She made her way into the debrief room, she felt the men staring at her, she heard whispers. ‘’Gentleman, this is Lieutenant Colonel Rogers, she will be working with the AWPD (Air War Plan Division), I want you all on your best behaviour, she’s ranked higher than most of you here’’ Colonel Harding ordered. The men went silent as they heard her rank. Bucky looked at the woman, she was intimidating, her body language was telling that she was confident and didn’t took any of the men’s bullshit. ‘’Thank you, Colonel. Now boys, your next target is – ‘’ she was cut off by one of the men. ‘’Come on, doll, lose the uniform!’’ he yelled. She stooped what she was doing and looked at the men. She looked at him from up and down and looked at him in the eyes. Her gaze was intimidating. ‘’Misogyny, how refreshing, what’s next? Stay in the kitchen, you drive like a woman? Listen to me very carefully, I’m the one that helps deciding where you’re going to fly next, which bomb you’re going to drop and everything that you were trained to do. So go ahead, make another joke and I’ll have you arrest for assault by the M. P’s. Understood?’’ she didn’t break eye contact with the men, who quickly sat down with his head down. ‘’Can I continue?’’ she looked at the men in the room.

She quickly made a reputation for herself. She was strong and was fierce, many tried to get with her, all of them failed to do so. John Egan made it his personal objective to get a date with the Lieutenant Colonel Rogers. But as the number of missions grew, he slowly started to lose his mind, Bucky came back from a mission with a lot of casualties, he went to see one of the men injured in the hospital. Y/n was already there. ‘’I’ll let you rest, Bubbles, take care of yourself’’ she said, holding his hands. ‘’Thank you, Miss Rogers,’’ he said, smiling. She walked to the door, but when she walked past Major, she slowed down. ‘’Hello, Major, your friend, Curt, told me to say that he and other guys were going to go drink. He invited you.’’ She said as she walked out the room. Her perfume filled his nose, she smelled really good. ‘’Uh, thank you’’ he stuttered.

He was on the wing of his plane, drinking directly from the bottle. ‘’Curt, can you do me a favor?’’ He asked his friend. He nodded. ‘’Come here’’ he said, moving his fingers in a ‘Come here’ motion. ‘’I want you to hit me’’ he said. Y/n was driving her Jeep around the base. She heard someone yelling, so she drove where the noise came from. She saw Major Egan on the wing of the plane. She stopped the vehicle and got out. ‘’What’s wrong with you, Major?’’ she asked the brunette. ‘’Nothing, Miss.’’ He said, holding his nose. ‘’He just asked me to punch him!’’ Curt exclaimed. Y/n had to hold her laugh as she smiled in disbelief. ‘’Major Egan, come back down, right now’’ she ordered. He did as she asked and climbed down the plane. ‘’What’s going on with you?’’ she asked. ‘’I just want to feel something’’ he blurted out. Y/n felt bad for him. ‘’Hop in, Major’’ she tapped the seat next to her. He sat next to her; she hands him a tissue for his nose. ‘’You know you can do something else than getting punched’’ she said. ‘’I just don’t know what’’ he mumbled. ‘’Stop trying to feel everything, Major, the emotions you’re feeling are valid’’ she says to him. He looked at her, she didn’t know what to say, but he had a lump in his throat. ‘’Why are you shutting off to us, Lieutenant?’’ he asked her. She thought about an answer, but he was right. ‘’Because I can’t take dead pilots, again. I want to be strong; I can’t see my friends being dead, not again’’ she said. She’d been transferred from another base; she lost her old best friend and went a little crazy. Bucky looked at her, she had both hands on the steering wheel, but if one of them was free, he would take her hand. ‘’Yeah, I heard the rumors’’ he softly says. ‘’The one that say that I’m crazy?’’ she asks. ‘’Yeah, but I didn’t believe them’’ Y/n smiles. She stops the car near a tree. ‘’Listen, Major, normally, I’m supposed to get you in trouble for the hole ‘punch me’ situation. I take my job very seriously, and if they learn that I went soft on you, my reputation is ruined. So don’t do it again, or the M. Ps are going to get involved, got it?’’ she tired to sound intimidating. Bucky softly smiled. ‘’You can’t buy my silence that easily, Lieutenant’’ he teased. ‘’Alright, what do you want?’’ she laughed. ‘’A date?’’ his voice was full of hope. Y/n rolled her eyes and looked at the men. She found him attractive, and he was the only one that was persistent enough to try to have a date with her. ‘’Okay, I’ll go on a date with you, Major’’

[khami-the-raccoon]

Hello!

It’s me again, the one who made the Will request(I enjoyed it :D I almost wanted to eat your writing). Could you write a Draco Malfoy x Reader but it’s platonic? Perhaps Reader is the DADA professor and like a father figure to Draco(But the Reader doesn’t know).

(I have no life btw.)

Have a great day!

Hello! Thank you so much for your request! I’m very very happy to know you liked what I wrote for your last request :) I hope you like this one as well, and sorry if this took too long (again)

Draco Malfoy x male! Teacher! reader (platonic)

Summary: Draco Malfoy x male teacher reader, in which Draco sees reader as a father figure. (Platonic)

Word count: 1053

Draco Malfoy Masterlist

General Masterlist

Part 2 Part 3

Y/N was a highly skilled wizard who had been appointed as the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Y/N was known for his wisdom, kindness, and unwavering dedication to his students.

One of his students, Draco Malfoy, was a young boy with a troubled past. Draco came from a family of pure-blood wizards who had strong ties to the dark side. Draco wasn’t the kindest guy at school, he often would bully other students or make them feel bad about themselves. Y/N never approved of Draco’s rising behavior, but he understood it was some kind of coping mechanism for his problems. Y/N also recognized the potential in Draco and decided he would help him open up about whatever was troubling him and making him feel so bad about himself he had to take it out on other students.

One day, Y/N was watching from afar the students outside the castle, some were chatting with each other, some were playing soccer, and others were studying on the grass. It didn’t matter what they were doing, but they were all together with other students and their friends. Everyone except Draco, who was sitting near the lake, alone. Looking upset.

Y/N frowned, he didn’t like seeing his students looking down.

He made his way outside, to the spot Draco was sitting.

“Draco, is everything alright?” Y/N asked once he was with Draco, the blonde boy looked at his professor.

“It's nothing, Professor Y/L. Just some family matters” he said, not wanting to look weak in front of Y/N, as if he didn’t want to disappoint him.

“Draco, you know you can trust me, right? I'm here for you, not just as your professor, but as someone who cares about you.” Y/N said, sitting next to Draco in the grass.

Draco sighed, he wanted to tell Y/N what he was feeling, what he was thinking… but he was still scared… he was still a scared child.

“It's my father. He expects so much from me, and I don't want to disappoint him, but sometimes I feel like I'm drowning in his expectations...” he said quietly. Finally having the courage to speak about what was making him feel so worthless.

Y/N felt bad for him, Draco was so young… he shouldn’t be going through this. Y/N understood, this feelings of being worthless Draco was experiencing were the cause of his mean behavior towards others… he just wanted validation.

“Draco, your worth is not defined by your family's expectations. You have the power to choose your path, to be the person you want to be. And I believe in you, Draco. I believe that you can rise above it all and become a force for good” Y/N said in a firm yet gentle voice.

Draco said, his eyes widening slightly. He couldn’t believe somebody could actually care for him “Wait… how can you still believe in me? After all I’ve done to others?” He said, looking at Y/N.

“You’re young, Draco. We all make mistakes when we’re young, that’s okay. And you’re not a bad person, you just need someone to guide you.” Y/N said. He was a kind soul.

The blonde boy looked at him, he wanted so bad to hug him, to be comforted by Y/N. The man had always been so important for him. Draco felt Y/N was the only one that could guide him and make him feel as if he wasn’t broken.

“Thank you, Professor…” Draco said quietly, and Y/N smiled and patted his shoulder.

“Don’t worry, everything’s going to be alright. And if you need my help, you can always come to my office, alright?”

“Alright”

For the first time in months, Y/N saw Draco smile, a real and happy smile.

Y/N felt a sense of relief and hope as he witnessed Draco's smile. He knew that this was just the beginning of Draco's journey towards self-discovery and growth. Y/N was determined to support him every step of the way.

In the following weeks, Y/N started having regular one-on-one sessions with Draco, providing a safe space for him to express his thoughts and emotions. Through their conversations, Y/N helped Draco understand that his worth wasn't determined by his family's expectations or his past actions. Y/N encouraged Draco to focus on his own values and aspirations, helping him discover his true potential.

As time went on, Draco's behavior started to change. He became more empathetic towards his fellow students, offering a helping hand instead of resorting to bullying. Y/N's guidance and belief in Draco's ability to change played a significant role in his transformation.

Draco's relationship with Y/N grew stronger with each passing day. Y/N became not only a mentor but also a father figure for Draco, someone Draco could confide in without fear of judgment. Y/N's unwavering support and understanding gave Draco the courage to confront his family's expectations and forge his own path.

One day, after Draco had a specially bad argument with his dad, he came to Y/N’s office, in tears.

“Oh Draco, it’s good to see you! Are you… alright…?” Y/N’s voice became concerned as he saw Draco sobbing.

“You had another argument with your father, right…?” The professor asked, and Draco nodded. “What was it about this time?”

“He said I-I was a traitor for not hating ‘mudbloods’…” Draco said, stuttering, Y/N felt so bad for him.

“I’m so sorry, Draco.” Y/N said softly, looking at the crying boy “but you’re doing the right thing, you’re brave and you have a good heart. Believe me” he said and smiled comfortingly. “Now, come here… I’m sure you need a hug” Y/N said and opened his arms.

Draco looked at him, shocked. He couldn’t believe Y/N was actually offering him a hug…?

Draco walked slowly and carefully to Y/N’s arms, as if asking for permission to be comforted. Lucius Malfoy, his ‘dad’ would never offer him a hug. But Y/N was different… he was kinder.

As Draco finally accepted the hug, Y/N put his arms around him comfortingly. And Draco felt finally safe and at home.