#whoa sorry i got carried away

[mustlovewillgrahamsdogs]

what i wouldn't give to have a scene where hannibal mentions the whole murder husbands thing to will 😩he's just never gonna bring that up? yeah right

[gubsbuubs]

Headache Relief

(18+)

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~ 4.5K

Warnings: Sex duh, creampie.

Summary: When Spencer seeks relief for his intense headaches, he finds more than just painkillers in Y/n's room.

A/N: Hi everyone, I've been away... I know... I know. This bar exam prep is kicking my ass. I've got some other works on the way but I had to finish this one and share it with you guys.

English is not my first language. I hope you all enjoy it, and any and all comments are appreciated 🍒

Y/n laid on the bed, her tired eyes scanning the pages of the worn book, the weight of today's concluded case still heavy on her mind. The darkened motel room was softly illuminated by the gentle glow of the muted television, casting faint shadows that danced across the walls. Her peace was abruptly shattered by a knock at her door, soft yet insistent, pulling her away from the comfort of the pages.

Glancing at the bedside clock, the red digits of 1:52 glowed back at her, stirring a sense of urgency.

Could something have happened? Her worry mounted with each passing second. With a quick exhale, she rose from the bed, her heart pounding with apprehension. Her slender fingers fumbled with the lock as she approached the door, anticipation gnawing at her. When it swung open, she was met with a sight that caused her stomach to twist with concern.

There he stood, his appearance disheveled, his exhaustion evident in the lines etched upon his face. The fingers of his left hand pressed firmly against the bridge of his nose, while his right hand leaned heavily against the wall for support. Dressed in a mismatched ensemble of a band shirt and pajama pants, he looked like he had been through a rough night.

"Spence?!" she exclaimed, her voice tinged with worry, the concern evident in her tone.

His bloodshot eyes met hers, "Y/n, I'm sorry... I know it's late," he murmured, his voice hoarse and barely above a whisper.

"Are you okay?" Her hand instinctively reached out to touch his shoulder, feeling the tension in his muscles beneath her fingertips.

"I….I need your help…" His breathing was ragged, and his words came out in a rush, "It´s happening again," he admitted, vulnerability seeping through.

"Come in" Y/n said softly, tugging lightly on his shoulder.

He sat on the end of her bed, the weight of exhaustion evident in every line of his posture. She closed the door behind her, the soft click echoing in the dimly lit room. Turning to face him, she found him hunched over, his hands pressed firmly against the sides of his temples as he massaged his own head, his face contorting in pain.

"I... I know you always carry a pouch of medicine everywhere you go," he began, "I thought... maybe you could help me."

Y/n's heart softened at the vulnerability in his voice, realizing he must be in significant pain to ask for medicine, so without a word, she crossed the room. Rummaging through her bag, her fingers closed around a small pill bottle, and then she grabbed a water bottle from the mini-fridge.

With a sense of urgency, she handed them to Spencer before sitting by his side.

"Here, Spence," she said softly. "Take this. It should help."

Spencer accepted the pill and water with gratitude, his hands trembling slightly as he struggled to open the cap. Taking a deep breath, he swallowed the pill with a gulp of water, placing the bottle on the floor afterward

A moment of silence passed, and Spencer attempted to stand, but his head swam with dizziness. Y/n reacted swiftly, rising faster than anticipated to catch him just as his legs gave way beneath him.

With a gentle yet firm grip, she guided him back down onto the bed, her heart racing as he sat back down.

"Whoa, whoa, Spence, are you okay?" Her voice was filled with worry as she steadied him, her hands offering support and holding him upright. "I think you might need to lie down for a bit," she suggested, concern evident in her eyes.

He opened his mouth to talk, even looked up to lock his eyes with hers, but feeling unsteady he leaned forward, and breath in deeply as his head came to rest against her stomach.

"I'm sorry," he rushed, his voice muffled against her, "The dizziness... it's from the pain" his words tinged with frustration. "It'll pass as soon as the medication kicks in."

As he attempted to lift his head, another wave of dizziness washed over him, causing him to sway once again. Y/n instinctively pulled him closer, stepping between his legs and encouraging him to hug her waist for support. "Hey, it's okay, Spence," she reassured "Just hold on to me until you feel better. I'm here for you."

"I'm sorry," his voice was soft and as low as whisper.

“Shhhhhh” Her right hand met the back of his head, applying gentle pressure to certain points.

"I just… I don't want to impose on your space, I just..." His sentence was interrupted by a relieved sigh, the tension slowly melting away under her comforting touch.

"Spencer, that's what friends are for," Y/n murmured softly, as she continued to massage his head, the tension gradually ebbing away.

As her words reached his ears, Spencer couldn't help but feel grateful for having such a caring friend by his side.

"Friend… right...." he taught to himself.

Amidst the urgency for the relief of mediation and the dizziness that followed, he'd become oblivious to the situation he found himself in. His hands intertwined around her, gripping tighthy on her waist, his head nestled against her stomach, while her gentle touch sought to alleviate his suffering.

In that moment, the intimacy of their position became glaringly apparent. Yes they were just friends, yet here they were, intertwined in a way that transcended mere friendship.

Another sigh of relief left Spencer's lips as he felt her touch soothe his pain and provide a sense of comfort that he hadn't felt in a long time.

"Is this helping?" She asked gently.

"Yeah, it is. Thank you, Y/n," Spencer replied gratefully, lightly nodding his head against her stomach.

She looked down at him, nestled against her, he looked calm, relieved, like he belongs close to her.

She paused the movement of her fingers for a moment, considering how she could further alleviate his discomfort. "Maybe I could massage your head. That could help, right?"

Spencer nodded once again, lightly lifting his chin to grace her with a faint smile that tugged at the corners of his lips. "Actually, head massages can be quite effective for relieving headaches," he said, slipping into his familiar role of sharing facts and statistics. "They help to increase blood flow and reduce muscle tension, which can provide significant relief from pain."

"Well then, let me try something," Slowly, she stepped away, feeling his hands brush against her sides and hips as she moved back. With measured steps, Y/n climbed into the bed behind him, settling against the headboard. Spencer turned his head back slightly to look at her, a hint of confusion evident in his expression.

He watched her as she motioned with her hand, encouraged him, "Come here, lay back." She patted the sheets between her legs, inviting him to find comfort in her embrace.

As Spencer looked at her, the world around him seemed to fade into the background. His gaze traveled up her legs, lingering on the bare skin of her thighs barely covered by her shorts and the oversized shirt that draped over her frame. Despite the pain that throbbed in his head, he couldn't help but appreciate the sight before him. There was a softness in her features, a gentleness in the way she sat against the headboard, her legs spread slightly, inviting him closer.

A wince of pain brought him back to reality, and with a nod, he complied, scooting back onto the bed and laying back into her embrace.

His head found its place between her legs, his head lightly leaning onto her lower stomach, the warmth of the bare skin of her thighs brushing against his cheeks and neck.

Despite the pain, his mind started to wander as he laid there.

As her fingers worked their way through his hair, easing the tension in his temples, Spencer's thoughts began to drift. He couldn't help but be acutely aware of the softness of her skin against his face, and the delicate scent of florals that surrounded her.

As they lingered in the quiet intimacy of the moment, Y/n's gentle massage continued to soothe Spencer's temples. Though the pain started to subsided, the thoughts of her only seemed to intensify, swirling through his mind like a tempestuous storm. Lost in his reverie, Spencer's awareness heightened as he glanced down and noticed … his pants were a little tighter now.

A wave of embarrassment washed over him as he realized the effect she was having on him. Quickly he sat up, his cheeks burning and his breathing picking up speed.

"Is everything okay, Spencer?" she asked, her voice filled with genuine worry. "Did I hurt you?"

Spencer hesitated, his mind racing as he struggled to find the right words. He didn't want to admit that he got hard and now had to leave the room, but the concern in her eyes urged him to speak.

"No, no, you didn't do anything wrong," Spencer stammered, his voice tinged with embarrassment. "You were a real help, but I should leave. I don't want to... You should rest now." As he attempted to get up and leave the bed, Y/n's hand shot out, grabbing his arm firmly. She tried to meet his eyes but his gaze kept shifting away, so Y/n's eyes inadvertently wandered downward, drawn by a curious instinct. And there it was, beneath the fabric of his pijama pants, a subtle but unmistakable tenting. Heat flooded her cheeks as realization dawned on her, and her hand instinctively flew left of his arm to cover her surprised mouth.

"I... I..." Spencer began, his words catching in his throat as he struggled to find the right thing to say. Despite his attempts to speak, the words remained elusive, trapped on the tip of his tongue like a fleeting thought.

"I need to go," he finally muttered getting up. But before he could make a move to leave, Y/n's hand now met his, halting him in his tracks.

"Spencer, wait," she implored, her tone gentle yet firm, her eyes searching for understanding.

"Y/n, I... I'm so sorry," the words tumbled from his lips in a rush of guilt and regret. "You've been such a great friend, and I couldn't help but..." he sighed heavily.

"Oh, you probably think I´m such a pervert..." His voice trailed off, unable to continue, as shame washed over him. He felt like he had crossed a line, making her uncomfortable in a way he had never intended.

"You don't need to apologize," she said, "And you're not a perv, you haven't made me uncomfortable."

"What?" he asked in disbelief, looking up at her with confusion in his eyes.

Y/n smiled softly, "I understand Spencer."

"You understand?" His eyebrows were furrowed, and his heart was racing.

"Humm humm," she nodded her head, looking up in to his eyes.

"What do you mean?" He asked, feeling a mix of emotions swirling inside him.

He watched closely, as she gently took his hand, guiding it down until his fingertips met the warmth of her covered core. His breath caught in his throat as a rush of heat surged through him, his heart pounding with a mixture of shock and desire.

"I understand," she whispered softly, her voice filled with desire.

Spencer's mind reeled with the intensity of the moment, his senses overwhelmed by the heady scent of her arousal and the softness of her touch. He felt a surge of longing flood through him, a primal urge driving him to lean in closer, to explore the depths of her desire.

"Are you sure?" Spencer's voice almost faltered as he felt the wetness seeping through the fabric. His heart pounded in his chest. As he gazed into her eyes, he saw nothing but longing and desire reflected back at him.

She nodded, her lips parted in anticipation of what was to come. With a gentle touch, his hand met her cheek, guiding her closer until their lips met in a passionate kiss.

The intensity of their kiss grew, fueling their desire as Spencer's hand ventured boldly, tracing circles over her covered clit. A small moan escaped her as his tongue brushed her bottom lip asling for enterence.

"Fuck," she gasped, her breath hitching as she felt the bed dip beneath her. Her heart raced with anticipation as Spencer knelt before her, his gaze filled with hunger and desire.

With trembling hands, Spencer reached for the hem of her clothing. Before he peeled away the fabric, he looked up at her, his gaze searching for reassurance.

"Do you want me too keep going, Y/n?" he whispered, his voice tinged with urgency. He needed to be certain that she was ready to take this step with him, to surrender to the passion that burned between them.

Y/n met his gaze with unwavering determination. "Yes... yes... I need you, Spence," she whined.

With a shaky breath, Spencer slowly dragged the fabric of her shorts down her legs, his hands trembling with anticipation as he revealed her nakedness to him. Y/n watched him with bated breath, a flush of heat spreading across her skin as her clothing fell away, leaving her exposed and vulnerable before him. She reached for the hem of her shirt, her fingers fumbling slightly with the fabric before she managed to pull it over her head, tossing it aside with a sense of urgency. Now fully exposed, she stood before him, her body illuminated by the soft glow of the room.

Spencer's gaze trailed over her naked form. He watched intently as the slight chill in the air caused her nipples to harden, standing erect against the smooth curve of her breasts.

Y/n felt utterly exposed, her body laid bare before him.

With a steady hand, Spencer reached out, his touch gentle yet firm as he took her right nipple between his index and middle finger. A gasp escaped her lips as she felt the sensation ripple through her. She arched her back instinctively.

"Fuck... please," Y/n whimpered, her voice laced with desperation as she parted her legs further, inviting him closer. With a sense of urgency, she reached for his hand, guiding it to where she wanted it most.

Feeling her warmth and wetness against his fingers, Spencer's desire surged as he explored her delicate folds. Now there was no fabric between the soft skin of his fingers and the warm, slick slit of her pussy. He moaned at the sigth and teased her with slow, deliberate strokes.

Spencer's breath hitched as he added another finger, the sensation of her tightness and warmth driving him wild with desire. With each movement of his fingers, he couldn't help but marvel at how perfectly she fit around him.

"God, you feel incredible," he murmured, his voice thick with desire. "I can't even imagine how good you'll feel wrapped around my cock."

The thought of being buried deep inside her, of feeling her tightness enveloping him completely, sent a shiver of anticipation down his spine.

As Y/n writhed beneath him, lost in a haze of pleasure, her moans filled the room. "Please," she gasped, her voice thick with need. "Fuck me, Spencer. I need you."

Spencer withdrew his fingers from within her, eliciting a soft whimper of protest from Y/n. But before she could voice her longing, he brought his fingers to her parted lips.

"Open," he commanded.

Without hesitation, Y/n obeyed, parting her lips to accept his fingers in to her mouth. With a hunger that mirrored his own, she sucked eagerly, tasting herself on his skin. The raw intensity of the moment sent a thrill coursing through her, igniting a fire of desire that burned hotter with each passing second.

As she eagerly licked and sucked his fingers clean, Spencer's hands moved to the waistband of his pajama pants, his movements urgent and determined. With a quick motion, he undid the strings, discarded his pajama pants and shirt, revealing his throbbing erection that sprang free. Y/n's gaze locked onto his member, her eyes widening with desire as she took in his arousal.

As Spencer lightly stroked himself, his eyes never leaving hers, he whispered, "Imagine how good it will feel inside of you,"

Oh, what a sigth! Her eyebrows furrowed in a plea, and her bottom lip caught between her teeth.

"God, you're so beautiful," he murmured. "I need to be inside you." He positioned himself, aligning his throbbing length with her entrance. With a sense of urgency, she reached behind him, grabbing a handful of his ass, urging him forward as he lowered himself onto her.

With a shared moan, he entered her completely. The sensation of him filling her to the hilt overwhelming their senses.

Spencer began by fucking her slowly, his movements deliberate and passionate, savoring every moment of their intimate connection. As he thrusted into her with a gentle rhythm, he captured her lips in a passionate kiss, seeking to subside her moans of pleasure.

Her hands tangled in the curls at the back of his head, in response Spencer tilted his head back slightly, letting out a throaty moan. "Fuck, Y/n," he groaned. "You're so fucking tight."

"Oh, Spence," she gasped, her breath hitching with pleasure as his movements intensified. "You feel so good, filling me up like this."

"You like that, baby?" Spencer's voice was low and sultry. "You like feeling my cock deep inside you, making you mine?"

"Yes," she moaned. "I want you to take me. I want you to fuck me harder."

Spencer's thrusts grew faster and the bed creaked beneath them, the wooden frame protesting the force of their passion. His right hand gripped her thigh forcefully, his fingers digging into her skin as he sought to anchor himself to her. Meanwhile, the fingers of his left hand found their way to her clit once again, expertly stroking the sensitive nub with each rhythmic movement.

With each thrust, his hips rocked against hers, driving deeper into her. The sensation of him filling her so completely sent waves of pleasure coursing through her body, igniting a fire that burned hotter with each passing moment.

Y/n's hands roamed over his back, her fingers tracing the contours of his muscles as she clung to him for dear life. Her nails dug into his skin with every powerful thrust, leaving crescent-shaped imprints.

"Are you gonna cum for me, pretty girl?" Spencer's voice was low against her ear as he pounded into her, his breath coming in ragged gasps.

"Oh fuck, yes…" she moaned. "God, yes, I want to cum so badly."

"I'm close, too," he admitted, his voice strained with pleasure.

As Y/n's moans intensified, Spencer continued to pound into her with relentless fervor, his movements synchronized with the rhythm of her impending climax. With each thrust, he felt her walls clenching around him, the tightness driving him to the edge of control.

"Please," he pleaded, his voice strained with desperation, "let me cum inside. I need to feel you come undone around me."

With a fervent nod, Y/n surrendered to the overwhelming sensations coursing through her body, her walls clenching around his cock as she reached her orgasm.

The feeling of her tightness milking him was all it took to push Spencer over the edge. With one final thrust, he buried himself deep inside her, his hips grinding against his own release washing over him in powerful waves as they came together.

They stayed there, tangled together, basking in the aftermath of their shared passion. The room was filled with a hazy, contented silence as they caught their breath.

Eventually, Spencer stirred, untangling himself from Y/n's embrace with a reluctant sigh. "I'll grab us a towel," he murmured, slipping out of bed and padding to the bathroom.

Returning moments later, he set to work cleaning them both up, his movements gentle and unhurried. There was a quiet intimacy to the way he wiped away the remnants of their lovemaking, as if each touch carried a silent promise of care and affection.

Once they were both cleaned up, Spencer rejoined Y/n in bed, pulling her close once again as they settled into the warmth of each other's arms.

"Hey, how's your head feeling now?" She asked softly with genuine care.

Spencer looked into her eyes, a grateful smile spreading across his face. "Much better. Thank you for caring about me and for taking care of me."

"I'm glad you came knocking on my door," she replied warmly.

Spencer chuckled, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Well, you know what else helps to increase blood flow and reduce muscle tension?" He quipped with a playful smirk.

"Now we know what to do next time you have a headache." With a smile, Y/n leaned in and placed a gentle kiss on his lips.

[celesteleoves]

Request for Izuku coming to the readers dorm because he needed them to patch him up because training was tough and he decided to not go to recovery girl for some reason(basically just a patching up fic w izuku😭)

“NO GRAVE CAN HOLD MY BODY DOWN, I’LL CRAWL HOME TO HER.”

ೃ࿐ izuku midoriya x reader.

summary: what the ask says :)

disclaimers: established realtionship, izuku is silly…. mentions of bones being broken/other injuries, that’s all i believe! reader is kinda suggested to be female…

a/n: AWWW this might be my favourite ask yet! thank u 🤍 i hope i wrote this exactly to your liking.

—-

izuku hated relying on others. he never liked being a bother, even to those who insist he can always go to them if he ever needs anything). it’s one of his flaws, he thinks.

carrying the weight of one for all on his shoulders constantly was a reminder just how much he needed to learn how to be more independent. the broken bones, harsh sparring with his classmates, recovery girl visits. he really needs to learn how to patch himself up…

currently, he sat in his own dorm. groaning to himself as he moved slightly, muscles incredibly sore. the boy slowly lifted his shirt up, revealing the bruises and small cuts he received after training for hours. as he lifted his hands up to brush his hair back, he got an idea. a very smart one!

“she wouldn’t be too mad, right?” izuku mumbled to himself as he sluggishly stood up, making his way to your dorm.

the walk was long and treacherous (it’s a minute walk). as izuku finally stood in front of your dorm, he thought about your reaction. you are a very caring person. you’ll definitely be easygoing about this!

-

“are you kidding me izuku?!” your jaw dropped at the sight of your disheveled boyfriend who only smiled sheepishly. you immediately turned into scolding y/n mode, rambling on and on about how he should take it easy.

“i knew you’d be a bit mad… i’m sorry.”

your boyfriends words made you falter in your speech as you took in the weight of the situation. he had simply gone too far in training.

instead of going to someone else, he came to you? the thought made you frown in a caring matter. you looked at him closely. his eyes glistened, looking like he’s more hurt about your reaction instead from his own wounds. his white shirt had splotches of grass and dirt on it. you couldn’t help but feel responsible for your lover in this moment. you knew he only worked hard to be stronger for you and himself.

“come in, no- don’t lay on that. your shirt is covered with dirt. take it off!” you spoke to him in a exaggerated tone.

izuku froze in his movements, thinking about what you just said to him. he’s not in middle school anymore, why is he getting flustered right now?! izuku curses teenage hormones for existing.

rather too quickly for his liking: izuku’s face flushed and he nervously toyed with his shirt, “take it off?!”

“yes. babe.” you looked at him with a puzzled expression, holding a small first aid kit in your hand (you made it for izuku at the very start of the school year after learning that he often injures himself). “i need to see where your hurt.”

“oh… right!”

it took him a minute to compose himself, his shyness taking over as he carefully took off his shirt. the act made you almost want to laugh as you’ve seen him without a shirt on multiple occasions.

your giggly mood was completely knocked away when you took in the sight of a rather red slash on his lower abdomen.

you moved towards your boyfriend who sat against your bed frame, legs spread as if anticipating you to settle yourself in between them. that’s exactly what you did.

“whoa, what the hell happened here?”

“landed on a piece of rock while jumping… scratched myself. i already did hydrotherapy like you said, i didn’t have the materials to do anything else though.”

you hummed at his words, picking up a antibiotic and placing it on izukus wound with your right hand. he hissed at the sting and you rubbed his side with your left hand in an attempt to comfort him. it worked. izuku relaxed at the feeling of your touch on his skin.

the room was quiet, lights slightly dim, as you worked. placing gauze and then bandage around his abdomen, wrapping it twice for good measure.

you looked up, softly grabbing your boyfriends face and turning it left to right.

izuku stared at you with his bright green eyes and you blushed under his stare. you felt him toy with the bottom of your top, fiddling with the material.

“stop distracting me, i’m trying to check for cuts.”

“sorry! you’re just so pretty… and a really good doctor.”

you let a grin and cackle slip at his words. he laughed at your reaction, watching you carefully as you stood up. you moved towards your wardrobe and opened a drawer. izuku tilted his head in wonder, what were you doing?

you pulled out a shirt and a pair of pj pants. izuku intrigued at the items. those were both his, when had he put them in your drawer?

“oh, you left them after you slept here. i just figured i should give your stuff its own drawer.”

izuku hadn’t realized he spoke out loud and he only stared at you in silent shock. you were too good for him.

you tossed the clothes towards him as he rested against your pillows, staring at you in adoration.

“what?” you plopped down beside him, nudging his bicep as he looked down at you.

“you’re too good for me. thank you.”

you lit up at his loving words. if there was one thing izuku was perfect at, it was making you feel loved unconditionally no matter what.

“oh stop, you’re too good for me.”

“we could argue about this for hours, just accept it.”

“um no! everyone knows you’re too good for me.”

“i’ll start rambling about you if you don’t stop.”

“… and who says i wouldn’t like that?”

izuku paused, a grin slowly creeping up on his face at your serious expression.

you cracked, turning into a laughing fit and he laughed with you, holding you in his arms. the pain that he felt in his muscles not too long ago had seemingly faded away as soon as he held you in his embrace. your warmth and love felt as though it healed him.

izuku hated relying on others. but, he knows no matter what — you’ll always make sure he knows he can rely on you for anything.

[miguelhugger2099]

HIII tehehe

so imagine this, miggy and wifey reader coming home from a date and reader is just giggling as she remembers him being kind to all the kids who came up to him wanting to play with him. and reader is just like 'what if i just gave him one instead'

miggy notices his wifey reader giggling to himself, mini fluff moment happens. then reader exposes herself and then

~smut~

Baby Maker

long overdue and was very much in the accidentally deleted category like everything in this ask was written it just needed an ending before POOF gone. so, a thousand apologies i could not say sorry enough nonie. i tried to write down everything i remembered so i could get it out as soon as possible. as always, if you're not satisfied, this ask can be rewritten for a third time Art: feminine.999 on instagram

After a long and tiring winter, Miguel was eager to take you out for a picnic date in the warm sun again. It was always a sweet reminder of your time as young lovers and just having the simplicity of being in each others presence along with some food. So whenever the time was right and the temperature was warm enough, Miguel would plan and whisk you away to the park at the same hill you two have decided would be your spot. "Miguel just hand me something." You smile at him and stick your hands out, the picnic blanket hanging lightly on your forearm. Miguel carries both the cooler and basket as well as your purse on his shoulder. He had only asked you to fold the blanket but you wanted to help so you held onto it instead while he insisted he had everything else. "Ah-ah." He says, shaking his head. "Tengo todo, mama. I'm okay." Obviously, he was. He could carry several more things if he wanted to but you felt really bad watching him. "Give me the keys then. I'll drive." You cross your arms. In truth, he didn't want you to drive- he's a little traditional when it comes to handling things on his own while you rested freely from responsibilities. But, he sighed and instead of protesting, he nodded. "Keys are in my back pocket." He pouts dejectedly. You found it cute and rolled your eyes. You reached around him to grab the keys from his pocket, giving a teasing squeeze to his ass which he jumped at. "Oye." He says with a playful warning tone, squinting his eyes down at you. There's a hint of a smile on his lips, as well as a spark in his eyes. "C'mon." You shrug and skip in front of him, pretending to be innocent. At the car, Miguel was finishing up putting everything in the trunk, massaging the palms of his hands to ease the strain of holding onto the handles of the cooler and basket. You place the blanket over everything, feeling Miguel kiss your temple and his hand sneaking around your waist. "Good?" You ask him, looking up and cupping his cheeks. Miguel leans into you, his hands on your hips to keep him steady. "Mhm." He hums as he looks back down at you. Miguel kisses your forehead then each of your cheeks before finishing it off with a long smooch to your lips. "Let's go home." He murmurs.

Before you could move, Miguel looks down after feeling something tap the side of his leg. A soccer ball rolled a bit before he skillfully rolled it under his foot and kicked it into the air so it landed in his hand. “Whoa!” A chorus of young high-pitched voices shouted in unison. A group of kids huddled by you two, marveling at Miguel. “How did you do that?” One boy gasps, his eyes lighting up in admiration. Miguel chuckles nervously, bashful of the attention of ten-year olds. “Ah–it’s a little tricky.” He hands the ball to a little girl and she waves it high above her head. “Can you show me?” She squeals and Miguel blinks, looking back at you. You covered your mouth to hide your giggles and smile. “Go.” You tilt your head at the group of kiddies and Miguel stumbles over his words but the kids already took your approval and began tugging on Miguel’s arm back to the grassy fields to play.

As you got home, you couldn’t bring down the smile on your face, cheeks hurting with how long you’ve grinned to yourself. You let out a couple of giggles remembering how the children flocked to him and how Miguel looked carrying two grown kids in his arms when his little team scored a goal. Not only had you felt warmth in your cheeks but in other places as well. “Why do you look like that?” Miguel asks after placing the bags down near the door. He’d organize things later. “Like what?” Miguel brings his hand to the side of his face and bunches his shoulders up, looking up at the ceiling with a mockingly dreamy sigh. “Like this!” You punch his shoulder and Miguel laughs, bringing his arms around you from behind and leaves little apology kisses along your neck. “I did not look like that.” You defend yourself. “Mmm, you did. You always look like that anyway. At least when it comes to me.” He mumbles against your ear, his breath tickling your senses and you squeal to move away from him but he just holds you closer. “So what is it this time? Was I extra good-looking today? Did I sweep my favorite girl, my wife, off her feet?” Miguel presses his lips on your cheek with a loud smooch. He couldn’t help teasing you a bit. “No, it was different!”

“Hmm, different?” “The kids at the park.” You feel Miguel pause and he lifts his head up and tilts it to the side after turning you around. “What about the kids at the park?” He asks, confusion swirling in his eyes. “You looked…good with them.��� He huffs a quick laugh. “Okay?” “And I was thinking, y’know,” You giggle at the thought of Miguel picking you up, filling you up, carrying a baby–making him a father. He wanted to pick your brain. “What?” He squints down at you. “What if we had a baby?” Miguel’s eyes widened, blinking in surprise. “H-huh?” His voice went up an octave as his cheeks had gotten a little redder. You felt his hands tense around your hips and you secure your arms around his neck. “What if..I just gave you a baby?” You repeat in a hushed whisper. “With your help, of course.” You giggled and your flirting sent shivers down his spine. Subconsciously, Miguel’s eyes turn downwards to your stomach–imagining it swollen and growing with each passing day with just a few pumps of his cum. His eyes dilate and he feels the blood in his body rush straight down to his groin. “O-oh, God…” He groans, his breathing already getting heavy. “Are you sure? You want a baby? You want my baby?” He whispers, his lips ghosting over yours. You could feel his hands gripping your sundress. It fell just above your knees so Miguel was already sliding his hand up under it to feel the skin of your thigh, skin still a little warm from being in the sun. “Mhm, yes, please.” You whine, feeling the rush of arousal drench into your panties from hearing Miguel hold onto his last remaining self-restraint before he fucks you silly. At your plea, Miguel wraps his arms around you and pulls you up towards him to kiss you deeply. His lips devour yours, tongue slipping past your defenses to tangle in a dance with your own tongue. One hand pushes your head closer while his other hand runs down to grip the plump fat of your ass through the fabric of your dress. Tapping it twice, he signals you to jump in his arms, your legs wrapping around his waist and he hurriedly enters the bedroom. Miguel falls on top of you, bodies bouncing on the mattress but it does nothing to stop Miguel’s desire for you.

Miguel separates from your lips, dragging his wet mouth down to your jawline and neck while his hands bunch up your dress at your waist. He brings a hand up to pull down the top half of your dress and begins to leave small love bites across your breasts before licking your nipple into his mouth. With your head rolled back, your fingers run through his hair, hips attempting to grind up for some friction but with his weight on top of you–you’re helpless. “Want me to make you a mama, huh?” He growls huskily, lifting his head up and using his fingers to flick and tweak your nipples so he could watch you screw your eyes shut and your mouth parted open as you moan his name into the air. “Want me to make you all pretty and swollen with my cum, hm? Fuck…” “Oh, God–Miggy..!” Your hands at his shoulders, arching your back off the bed and writhing underneath him in a desperate attempt to make him focus on your wet pussy. Miguel can’t help but play with your tits, groping them in his hands and squishing them. He pulls your dress further down, tracing your curves and worshiping them to engrave it in his memory. Your dress now on the floor, you lay bare with just your panties. Miguel presses down on the soaking patch between your legs and you shiver. “No me jodas, Miguel. Just fuck me.” You groan and buck your hips to grind on his fingers but he chuckles and pulls away. “Dale paciencia, mi amor.” He says even though he feels the same, his cock straining against his jeans and leaving a wet spot in his boxers from dripping precum. Miguel leans back down to kiss you, hands fumbling with the zipper and he hastily shoves his boxers and pants down his legs. Deciding he was also impatient, Miguel rips your underwear apart and he bites down hard on his lips to stop him from moaning loudly at the sight of your glistening folds. Mind cluttered with lust, you don’t even notice the tear but you do feel his hard cock rubbing between your puffy pussy lips. He sighs while he collects your slick onto his shaft, his leaking tip mixing with your juices. “Mmm, fuck yes…” He shudders, thighs flexing as his muscles tensed up. Goosebumps litter his skin and he looks down at your body. Sprawled nude on the mattress while you’re already looking fucked out of your mind when he’s barely put the tip in. His cockhead catches inside and he teasingly enters. His hand places itself on your stomach, pupils blown wide open.

“Qué pasa, mi amor? Te sientes bien? Ay, que linda eres...” He purrs as he pushes inside you. “Feel me, mama.” Each inch is slow and he makes you feel the growing stretch of his cock, veins pulsing against your throbbing walls–your cunt convulses around him to suck him deeper inside your warmth. “Mine, mine, mine. So pretty, you’ll look gorgeous when I fuck a baby into this tight pussy.” Miguel whispers against your neck. His cock twitches when you claw at his back, choking out your moans as your face flushes with a warm blush. He could feel his balls aching but he held back as best as he could. His palm feels his cock from inside you, poking through your stomach and his eyes roll back. Fuck, he’s deep. “Tell me you want it. Dímelo otra vez.” He moans, slowly rocking his hips in and out of you. Your mouth had been drooling since he teased your entrance with his cock, mind blank with nothing but the desire to be bred by your husband. With a weak and broken whimper, you begged. “Wan’ it,” You squirmed. “Breed me.” Miguel’s forehead landed on your shoulder, his body hunched over as his hand went to pull your thigh on his hip and slammed into you. You screamed and held onto him before he started pounding ruthlessly into you. You could’ve flown off the bed with just how fast and hard Miguel decided to pace at. He wraps his hands to your ass and pulls your bottom half up for easier access, dragging your wet folds up and down his cock. He pants, breathing shakily as his arms tense up–veins protruding and running down all the way to his hands. Miguel then lets go, grabbing both your legs and pushes them to your chest. He folds you in half, displaying your cunt to his eyes as his main priority. He bites his lip, grunting with every pounding he gives you. His knees dig into the mattress to anchor himself as he jackhammers his twitching cock into your warm wetness. The arousal gushing out of you and rolling down between your asscheeks and onto the bed. “You’ll be such a good mama.” He moans, curling his hips so his cock arches right into your sweet spot. Your cunt squeezes around him tightly, head thrown back while your nails rake his back in streaks of red, imprinting yourself on him. You’re a squealing mess, tears in your eyes and you could barely feel your legs anymore. Face morphed with pure ecstasy as you feel each drag of his cock empty and refill you over and over again. His bulbous tip nudges against your cervix and twitches against your velvety walls and your moans turn shamelessly pornographic-like. Meanwhile Miguel gets himself off to the thought of you creaming on his cock, his balls unleashing his cum straight into your womb and getting you pregnant. He huffs, ears ringing as his mind only focuses on breeding you. He thinks to himself that once isn’t enough. Just one measly pump of his seed won’t be enough to bear you with his child. He’d have to do it more than once. He had to see his thick load seeping out of your puffy pussy folds. He wanted to see you filled to the brim, pumped full to make sure you’ll carry. He wanted to see your belly grow, creating a being that was the perfect combination of you and him.

His mind spurs him on, mouth open as he spews his own moans and  praising your tight cunt at how well it takes him. He’s pussy drunk, hips smacking and his balls slapping against you, his body pressing your legs tighter against yourself and ravaging himself into you with heavy thrusts. He grits his teeth when you scream and clench around him, pussy fluttering as you feel the release of an orgasm shoot through your body. Your legs quiver as Miguel holds onto you, eyes rolling back and drool escaping off the side of your mouth. Your cum drips into a puddled mess below you and Miguel’s orgasm follows right after you, drilling his cock until he’s balls deep. His cock twitches with each spurt of warm cum shooting out his tip, plugging into your womb. You take deep breaths but it seems impossible when Miguel keeps your legs up. His head is hung while he waits until your cunt milks every last drop of his seed. You weakly reach up and cup his cheek to catch his attention. He meets your gaze and you give a tired smile and pull him down for a kiss. Miguel eases your legs down and kisses you back. His hands rubs comfortingly around the dip of your waist. For a moment you feel at peace, a bliss of entering a new era with him. The peace lasts for just a moment. Miguel leaves your lips and twirls your body on your stomach, lifting your bottom half up so your ass hangs in the air. In the process, his dick leaves your warmth and it leaves you feeling empty. You gasp and grip onto the sheets, head turning to try and see Miguel. “‘M not done.” He mumbles. “You wanted me to breed you so I’ll fuckin’ breed you.” His words are slurred but his mind is made up. He angles his cock to your wet cunt again, smearing the combined arousal around with his tip as if painting on a canvas. Instinctively, you moan and wiggle your hips back, pussy swelling up with desire again. Miguel smirks and pushes back inside and the stretch is familiar and comforting. Shuddering, your pussy welcomes him back by squeezing tightly, sucking him in, and he hisses. “Uyy, fuck…” He sighs. He starts off slow, bumping you forward with easy and short thrusts, feeling himself slowly grow hard again inside you. Your eyes flutter close, face smushed into the pillow and drooling on the case of it as your body lurches forward. Miguel increases his speed, one hand on your shoulder and the other on your hip to bring your ass back onto his cock. His balls smack your clit for added stimulation and it makes you jump from the electric pleasure zipping straight to your core. “Oh my God! Miguel!” You whine, heat flushing on your cheeks, Miguel’s dick reaching different places in a different position. The pain of sensitivity washes away, your pussy now craving the hot sticky liquid of your husband. Miguel looms over you, bending one leg to keep him steady as he keeps drilling deeper into you. His lips leave wet and sloppy kisses to your shoulder, panting and sharing warm breaths with you while your bodies buck up against one another.

“That feel good, mama? Hm?” He moans, burying himself in your neck while his hips snap up against yours, ass slapping and rippling with each thrust.

“Yes! Yes! Mhm!” Your voice turns high pitched, eyes glassy and unfocused while being bred like a bitch in heat. Still, you took pride in it to be the one to carry his child, to have him use your hole as his cumdump and take him however many times as long as you keep feeling like this. You’d gladly take him over and over again.

“You’ll give me another baby after this one, right mama?” He hums, tongue licking your neck and nipping at your skin. “Say you will, querida. Say you’ll let me put a baby in you again–we’ll have a big family.” He whines, humping your ass in quick strokes. “Say it, say it, say it, please, please.”

Miguel could feel himself getting closer. He could feel you getting close too with the familiar pulse and clench of your walls around his throbbing cock. His balls are wet with your slick, your wetness never ending.

“Yes! I will! Promise! Just–please!” Your words are barely audible with your face pushed into the pillow but Miguel is satisfied with your cockdrunk state. His cock engorges with the thought of a big family, you giving him as many kids as he wants and him watching it all happen once he spills as much as he wants in your willing cunt.

His hips go out of rhythm, he chases his high of impregnating you for a second time and his cock twitches violently before squirting ropes of cum to paint your walls white. He doesn’t stop pumping, wanting to feel you cream on his cock so badly even when the overstimulation makes him whimper.

With a cry of his name, your pussy pulses around him and you feel his previous load drip out of you to make space for his new one. The liquid trickles down your thighs and your shake as the orgasm is ripped out of you. When you stiffen, Miguel drags his cock out from you and flips you on your back again.

Barely giving you time to recover, Miguel lifts you up from the bed and your back makes contact with the cool wall. He holds you securely under your ass and you automatically wrap your legs around his waist once more. Your arms are around his neck, hands in his hair and Miguel captures your lips in a messy kiss. His hips rut into you to slide his dick back inside which resounds out in rapid smacks of skin on skin contact.

You’re bouncing on his dick, hair tangled and becoming staticy from your head rubbing on the wall. His thrusts slow to a stop as he focuses on making out with you, tongue dancing with yours and exploring your mouth with a low moan of pleasure.

Teeth clack against each other and you roll your pelvis to regain the friction. Pussy clenches around him desperately and Miguel lets out a guttural groan, separating from your lips to bite your chest. Your back lifts off the wall and you push your tits to his mouth, Miguel eagerly sucking your nipples and switching between left and right.

He angles up and up, feeling your walls slide on him like some silicon dildo. He gropes your ass in his palms, kneading and spreading them apart while your slick sounds out with a sloppy, dirty and wet mess. Miguel shoves you harder against the wall, pounding your body in rhythmic thrusts that bang loud enough for a passerby to hear. His back is covered with your nails marks.

You’re screaming, you’re so fucking sensitive but it’s just so hot how he just keeps going. There’s a fire that’s ignited in you–some sick form of pleasure that you get off on your husband pumping you full of semen. It gave you pleasure just how badly he wanted this–wanted you. You can’t help but squeeze around him, pussy unable to handle the bundle of overstimulated nerves so it spasms.

Jaw slacked and spit dribbling down your chin with your tongue lolled out your mouth–you can barely form a thought when Miguel’s fucking them out of you. You didn’t expect for Miguel to jump at the chance at having a baby but right now, it felt so worth it. His teeth bites at your nipple, tongue rolling around the bud and devouring it like you were the sweetest thing he’s tasted.

“Miguell…! I’m so–mmph!–fuck, I’m close!” You pull on his strands of hair and he lets go of your nipple. Miguel leaves his forehead on your chest, breath fanning your skin while he bucks into you. He cums first, his essence spilling out and dribbling back down on his cock and he grunts with annoyance. His annoyance doesn’t last long when you climax just a few seconds after with a squeal. You ankles lock tightly around his waist to push him to the hilt to keep the rest of his cum–old and new–plugged inside. Miguel shudders and moves you off the wall and back to the edge of the bed.

Miguel lays you down on the mattress with a huff of exhaustion, becoming sleepy after three orgasms. Still, he turns you on your side, lifting your leg up so he could slide in his cock between your twitching and sensitive folds.

You strangle out a whine, eyes blinking in a dazed haze. You reach around you to grip his hair and plead for mercy. You don’t know how you even lasted this long.

“Thought you wanted a baby. I’m making sure we’re having that baby.” He mumbles against your neck, humming when he sheathes inside you again. Your cunt spasms, fluttering and pulsating from overstimulation. However, Miguel is gentle this time.

He grinds behind you in easy thrusts. You feel your heart stutter in your chest, turning your head around with your mouth slightly parted, whining out your moans. Miguel kisses you, his hand gripping your thigh tightly to uphold it while his cock slips in and out of you. The evidence of his essence drips out of you and leaves a shiny coat and the milky white circle at the base of his shaft prominent from previous orgasms.

You weakly buck your ass back to go in time with his thrusting. You break from the kiss, string of spit connecting on your wet lips before you rest your head back on the pillow, heart thumping wildly. Miguel goes back to kissing your neck and shoulders.

“Asi es, mami,” He whispers huskily. “One more. Can you do that for me? Jus’ one more.” His hips roll in circles and his hand goes underneath you to reach around to your front, fingers finding your clit. He rolls it between his fingers and circles around it softly with just the right amount of pressure that he knows you like. Your hips stutter and feel another climax coming, but this time a little weaker than the rest.

“Mig…Miggy…” You whine and he shushes you gently. His fingers leave your clit and he rests his hand on your stomach, thumb rubbing up and down the small pudge of tummy where his baby will grow inside you.

“I know, mi reina, I know. I love you so much. I love you. I love you so damn much.” He whispers sweetly, Miguel kissing behind your ear. His words of affection make you whimper.

“I love you too.”

Miguel winds up cumming inside you for the final time, emptying out all of his energy and hugging you tight to his chest while you squeal and cum right after him. He keeps you close, putting your leg down and curling his arms around your waist to spoon you.

Your breathing slowly evens out, exhaustion catching up to you. Miguel pulls out, each drag shocking your nerves until he leaves with a wet plop, strings of cum connecting you both together until it breaks. He turns you around to face him and brings your head against his chest. You hear his heart hammering against his ribcage and you weakly hug him back. You feel full just like he told you he would do to you.

You can’t help but feel content, excitement blooming in your chest for the next chapter in your life with your husband. He's warm.

“We’re gonna be parents.” You whisper softly. Miguel’s lips kiss your hair and he lifts your face up to him. He continues to pepper your cheeks and forehead with kisses.

“We’re gonna be parents.” He echos. “Thank you.”

You couldn’t ask for a better man to start a family with.

A/N: me when i enforce my breeding kink miguel agenda

[woso-dreamzzz]

Surgery VII

Mapi Leon x Ingrid Engen x Child!Reader

Summary: You get in trouble

"Have to be quiet," You whisper as you clip Bagheera's harness on.

It was one of the first things your Mami taught you when you were little.

Bagheera mews at you as you pick her up, pushing her into your backpack. You zip it up but still leave a bit of it open so she can breathe in fresh air. That was another thing Mami taught you.

Animals must have little holes in so they can breathe but not big enough holes that they can escape.

"I've got it, cub," Ingrid says, reaching for your bag but you push her hand away.

"I'm a big girl," You tell her, pulling your backpack on all by yourself," Can carry it myself."

Ingrid laughs, fondly ruffling your mane. "Look at you," She says," So grown up."

"I know."

Your bag is a little heavier than usual but you're very determined. You think if you can prove that you can look after Bagheera by yourself than Ingrid will finally take you to the shelter so you can get your own cat.

"Whoa," Mami laughs as you get out of the car with your backpack," Look at you go, cub. So independent all of a sudden."

"I'm a big girl," You tell Mami just like you told Ingrid.

"Don't grow up too fast," Mami says," Or you'll have to move out soon."

You give her a deadpan stare. "Don't be silly, Mami."

You run off after that. You know Mami and Ingrid are going straight to the field so you duck around the corner and pull Bagheera out of your bag.

She mews at you a few times as you finally work out how to clip her leash to your little belt loops. That means she can't wander off without you.

You're very proud of yourself as you make your way into the locker room, chest puffed out.

"Oh, cub," Patri groans with a little laugh," What have you done?"

You frown. "Nothing!"

"Having the cat doesn't look like nothing," Patri says, very pointedly looking at Bagheera."

"We're having a day out!" You announce," So Ingrid knows I can have a ginger cat too!"

Patri full on laughs now. "You're very sneaky. How did you manage to pull this off?"

"I'm mature," You insist," And me and Bagheera are friends!"

"Come on," Patri says," Let's go to the pitch and see what your mums think of this."

"I want a ginger cat," You say as Patri escorts you to the pitch," And I want it to have a proper tail. Bagheera's got a stumpy tail. I want my cat to have a proper one."

"Cub!" Ingrid's voice yells across the pitch and you instantly know you're in trouble. Ingrid doesn't use that voice a lot with you, her grumpy in trouble voice but she's using it on you now. "Why is Bagheera here?!"

Mami looks angry too, arms crossed over her chest and Patri pushes you forward.

"Tell them what you told me."

You take a big breath. "Showing that I can have a cat too."

"Cub," Ingrid says sternly and you wilt.

You sniffle a little as your throat goes all tight like it does when you're about to cry. "I really want a cat, Mama," You say morosely, digging the tip of your shoe into the ground," Just trying to prove I can look after one."

Ingrid massages her temple in annoyance.

"Cub," Mami says sternly," What you've done is very, very naughty. Do you understand that?"

"Sorry, Mami."

"Very naughty," Mami insists," You could have gotten Bagheera very hurt."

"Sorry."

She takes your hand and leads you over to the corner of the pitch, turning you around so you can't see the rest of the team.

"You're four years old now so that means four minutes in time out. Sit here and think about what you've done."

"I'm sorry, Mami!"

"I know but you're still going in timeout."

Mami doesn't take Bagheera from you and she curls up on your lap as you sit there.

You know you sit there for four minutes but it feels like a lot longer until Mami and Ingrid come over.

They sit in front of you.

"You were very, very naughty," Ingrid says to you," Not telling us you took Bagheera could have gotten her very hurt. Do you understand that?"

You nod.

"That wasn't very responsible," She continues," And it doesn't make me think you deserve a cat of your own."

You burst into tears. "I'm sorry, Mama! I was gonna look after her promise!"

You turn your bag upside down and shake it.

Treats for Bagheera fall out as well as a bottle of water and the collapsible bowl you use for Bagheera's beach trips. You've got a blanket too and toys for if she gets bored.

"Oh, cub," Mami says as she looks at everything.

"Left my bag a little bit open so she could breathe," You insist," And made sure it didn't fall in the car!"

Ingrid still looks mad though. "Cub," She says," Bagheera is a very special part of the family. She might have been scared all alone in your bag, did you think of that?"

You shake your head. "I'm sorry." All you can do is keep apologising.

"I can see that but it was still very naughty of you. Do you understand why?"

You nod.

"Why?"

"'Cause Bagheera could have gotten hurt and I should have told you and Mami."

"Well done for saying sorry," Ingrid says eventually," And well done for knowing what you did was wrong. You did a good job in making sure to pack everything Bagheera will need today."

"We can't do much now that Bagheera is here," Mami continues," So you'll have to take care of her today."

You nod. "I will, Mami."

"And when we get home, we'll discuss your own cat," Ingrid says.

[heartfullofleeches]

Bugman with a Darling fixated on marine life. Bug dumps facts about their favorite creatures on them and Darling shoots back with some of their own. Bugman is delighted when Darling tells them crustaceans and insects share a common ancestor, but more over it's nice to speak to someone who shares the same spirit Bug has in bugs towards their own interests. Darling probably also shares the same fear Bug has over annoying someone with all info stored in their brains, but if they asked Bugman how they felt it would tell them to never stop talking.

Amongst the sea of insect themed merchandise, the occasional crab or lobster item appears in Bugman's bedroom long with things related to Darling's favorite animals tucked away for safe keeping. Whenever Bug sees something they know Darling would like while they're out shopping its sure to grab it for them .... If they don't keep it for themselves because of how much it reminds them of their crush-

-

Darling: Whoa :0 Cool shark painting! Did you know sharks are covered in tiny scales that are made out of the same material as human teeth? That's why their skin feels like sandpaper!.... Sorry, Bug- Got carried away, again. Am I talking to much?

Bugman, scribbling on a notepad: You say that as though it would be a bad thing. Please, continue if you feel comfortable.

-

Bugman: I am aware your birthday has yet to pass, but I came across this interesting hat I have a notion you might like. I believe it is a jellyfish.

Darling: Crazy timing- I found this real cute isopod plushie, they're kinda like giant sea bugs- So I got it for you! Like it?

Bugman: ....If this stuffed animal departs from my mortal vessel so will I from this earth.

-

Cultist Older Sister: Bugman! I see you've brought home dinner for yourself. Shall I prepare it for you?

Bugman, holding grocery bags in one arm and a live lobster in another: This is not for me. It is a pet. For Y/n.....

[douceurrrr]

𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐭 | 𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐫𝐲

— you and camp counselor!ethan gets lost in the woods.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | kissing, lil rough, doggy, fucked over table, begging, ethan’s pull out game being strong, oral (f), enemies to lovers

audio link

the sounds of cricket and owls fills your ear as you and ethan walk around the wood, branches cracking with each step. “I’m pretty sure we’re going in circles.” ethan huffed. “why do you say that?” you asked, following close behind him. “uh because we passed this tree like three time already.” he replied with an attitude.

you had first met ethan when you were interviewing for the open camp counselor position, you hadn’t got accepted to any colleges after high school and you needed a job so a camp counselor was like your last resort. ethan was smart enough for college but needed a job to pay for books and stuff. at first ethan wasn’t all that bad but he slowly became a dick.

“I thought you said you ‘knew’ where we were going.” he said with air quotes, glancing angrily at you. “I know where we’re going… maybe.” you told him with a nervous smile. “maybe? dude we’re lost and it’s your fault.” ethan says, shaking his head in disbelief. “oh my god, calm you whiny ass down.” you said making him even more angry. “oh I’m sorry your highness but do you know where the fuck we are right now?” he says with sarcasm. i mean at least you guys had flashlights.

“from now on we listen to me, not your shitty directional skills.” you fought the urge to beat his ass right then and there. “who pissed in your cereal this morning?” you said, rolling your eyes. ethan didn’t reply and just kept walking. “answer me, landry. what the fuck is your problem.” you said, pushing his shoulder. ethan sharply turned around. “my problem is obviously you, ever since I started working here you’ve been giving me shit for no reason.” ethan says and started walking again.

you shook your head. “no I haven’t.” you replied, furrowing your eyebrows. “ouu denial, I love it.” he says, sarcastically. “oh fuck off, landry.” ethan chuckled in reply making you blood boil. “you seriously have a complaining problem.” you mumbled but he obviously heard you. “I’ll complain if I want to, it’s better than hearing you talk.” he replied. you scoffed and kept walking.

“whatever, are we even going the right way dickface?” you asked with a smug look on your face. ethan just pointed somewhere so you pointed your flashlight to where he pointed to reveal a sign saying camping grounds

with a arrow pointing to the right. “trust me now?” ethan says, not earning a reply from you, you began walking in front of him. “holy shit.” ethan gasped, looking at your leg. “ethan don’t fuck with me right now.” you said, standing still in fear. “you have a medium sized cut on the back of your leg.” ethan told you. you turn your body to see behind you leg and lord behold there was blood running down your leg and onto your sock. “you must’ve done that when we went through the bushes, how did you not feel that?” he says, looking closely at the cut.

suddenly Ethan starts to walk towards you with his arms out. “whoa what are you doing.” you say, stepping back from him. “come on, I’ll carry you to the camping grounds and get my first aid kit.” he says, walking towards you again only for you to back up again. “don’t put your filthy hands on me, landry.” you warned knowing damn well you wanted the opposite. “stop being a brat and come on.” he huffed in annoyance but you finally gave in, letting him pick you up in bridal style and carry you towards the camp.

-

once he reached the camping grounds with you in his arms, he walks into the wooden room and sits you down on a table with your flashlight beside you. “I’ll go get the first aid kit.” ethan says before walking away into another little room. when he came back, he had the kit in his hand. he opened it, taking out two alcohol pads and a bandage. “this is gonna hurt.” he muttered as he opened a alcohol pad.

“fuck.” you hissed, grabbing ethan’s hand in reflex as ethan placed the alcohol pad on your wound. once ethan was done cleaning the wound he placed a bandage on it. once he looked up at you to see you looking at him with smug look. “what? you want me to kiss your boo boo?” he cooed, teasingly. ethan didn’t earn a reply from you so he leaned down and kissed your leg making you hiss. “you kissed it too hard landry.” you complained. even if you “hated” ethan, the kiss made your heart flutter a bit lot.

“thanks.” you said, lowy. ethan looked at you teasingly with his hand behind his ear, “what? say that again.” he says, acting like he couldn’t hear you. you rolled your eyes before speaking again, “I said thank you, landry.” you huffed.

ethan smiled, knowing he had won. “no problem, I told you I can be nice.” he chuckled.

you scoffed. “could’ve fooled me.” you grinned. ethan then looks down at his hand, noticing you still holding it. “ah you’re still holding my hand.” he says shyly. you muttered a sorry and looked down at your lap. “no it’s okay.” ethan whispered as he got closer to you. you didn’t noticed how close he was until you lifted your head back up to look at him, you could feel his breathing on you face. “look I’m sorry for being a asshole.” he look genuine and apologetic, you couldn’t be mad at that. “it’s okay, I was a bit of an asshole too.” you replied. ethan’s face started to get hot at the closeness between you two. “i-i don’t think I’ve ever been this close to you.” ethan whispered.

you couldn’t take it anymore and leaned forward to capture his lips on your. ethan’s hand comes up to rest on you waist as your hand come up to his hair, raking through it. “fuck.” ethan groaned when he pulls away. “since day one I’ve had a crush on you.” he confesses and you look at him surprisingly.

“I’ve tried to hide it but I can’t get enough of you.” he didn’t even give you time to respond when he smashes his lips against yours with a moan. he then pulls away again to say something else, “and I’m sorry about that time with the volleyball and I’m also sorry about the time I-”

“- just kiss me, landry.” you cut him off with a lustful kiss. you run your fingers through his hair, earning the sinful sounds from him. while you were in the kiss, you trail your other hand to the flashlights that was next you and turned them off so no one could see you two were in there. the kiss started to get steamy as ethan started touching you more. “mm wait ethan, m’all sweaty.” you whined as ethan started to kiss down your neck. “I don’t care.” he says into your neck.

after a little while, you push him back to discard your shirt. “cute bra, but we won’t be needing it.” ethan says. you then unclip the back of your bra, throwing it somewhere in the room. “there, happy?” you smirked at the look on ethan’s face, he looked like a kid in a candy store. “very.” he says before bringing his hands to your tits, massaging them. your head threw back in ecstasy. he then decided to take it up a notch and started sucking on your nipples, earning more sounds from you.

“fuck landry, i guess you could do more things with that mouth than talk sh-” he cuts you off, biting down in your nipple which made you squeal. “take your shorts off, y/n.” he says seriously. you were amused by his tone. “hmm no.” you smirked. ethan scoffed, knowing what you wanted. “you’re really going to make me beg?” you nodded with a smile.

“please y/n, please take off your shorts.” you let out an satisfied hum, lifting your hips to take off your shorts. ethan sucked in his breath when he saw your black lacy underwear. “take that off too.” he groaned when you hooked your finger under the band, pulling them down. ethan then pulls your legs apart to rest onto the table. you gasp when you feel his tongue run across your slit, sliding the flat of it over your clit before swirling around it. you try to do something with your thighs but he has you pinned.

“fucking hell, landry.” you whisper, not wanting to be too loud. your head shoots back as the coil in your stomach starts to get intense. you place your fingers through ethan’s hair, pulling it before he moans into your cunt. he pays extra attention to your clit, sucking and swirling on it. ethan then pulls away, not taking it anymore. “shit bend over.” ethan whines. you do what he says, hoping off the table and bending over it. you hear a buckle rattling as ethan takes off the dumb khakis they made the boys wear. you felt the head of his cock slip through you slit and into your cunt, stretching you out.

“shit landry, you never gave off big dick vibes but i stand corrected.” you moaned as ethan started thrusting at a good pace. he hiked your right leg on the table, making him go deeper. the coil in your stomach started to progressively increase as ethan’s speed increased. “shit.” he grit, clawing at your hips. ethan’s head leaned back with his eyes closed, he was in heaven. “fuck landry, m’gonna cum.” you warned before he increased his thrust, helping you get there. with a couple of fuckfuckfuck’s you came around him, breathing heavily. ethan was right behind you, thrusting like his life depended on it. “holy fuck.” he pulls out, cumming all over your back.

ethan helped you get off the table and kisses you, passionately. “maybe we should sneak out often and have some fun.” you smirked at him, batting your eyelashes. as ethan gets his clothes back on he replies with a nods then leaves to find something to clean the cum off your back.

from then on, you stopped hating him.

[idunnoanymore7]

Freezer

Description: If you get locked in the walk-in freezer with your hot boss, you need to warm up somehow.

Content: carmy x reader (no use of y/n), injury(cut finger) and mention of blood, sort of enemies to lovers, oral f!receiving, fingering, unprotected piv sex, dirty talk, use of pet names

Author’s Note: I need him IN MY BONES. i wrote this before watching the ep when this happens LOL. also i love feedback if you want to leave it! <3

——————————————————

It started as a normal day of work-as in Carmy was yelling, Richie was an asshole, and Sydney was solving everything.

It ended up being an intense day for an unofficial kitchen assistant. There was a large rush of customers at lunch, leaving Carmy’s veins to protrude as he yelled at everyone to make more food. 

“50 more beef, 20 veggie, 16 everything chefs!”

“Heard, chef!” The kitchen chorused back. 

He called your name.

“Yes, chef?” 

“I need the two slabs of beef left in the fridge, and then you need to go drive and get more.”

“Heard, chef,” you say, writing the instructions down quickly on your notepad.

Carmy was already gone, at his station picking up the pound of beef. You stared as his bicep curved out, his hand flexed and gripped the bag. You were interrupted by-

“Chef! I need those tomatoes!” Sydney said. “They have to be in the pot in 5!”

Fuck-the tomatoes you were chopping for Sydney’s sauce before this meeting started. 

“Yes chef!” 

“And we’re talking about whatever that was later!” she said. You tense as you realize she saw you gawking.

“Syyyyd!” You whine. She grins.

“Get to work!” Carmy hollers from around a corner, and you dash back to the sink.

You had finished half of the ten tomatoes sydney requested. You picked up the knife and got to work on the 6th of the bunch.

You were mindlessly chopping for maybe a minute before someone slammed into your back, knocking you forward and causing you to slice your finger.

“Fuck!” you gasped. You whirled around to see who it was. “Say behind!”

Of course. Richie. He looked down at you  and his lip curled. 

“Not my fault! Pay more attention next time.”

He stalked off, rolling his eyes. 

Whatever, you didn’t have time for this. Luckily no blood got on the tomatoes, so you wrapped the cut in paper towel and got back to work careful to keep that finger away from the food. You slid the cut up food into a bowl and carried it to Sydney, placing it next to her.

“Thanks, chef,” she said, checking the tomatoes.

“Of course, chef.”

“Whoa, you good?” she said, noticing your finger. 

“Yeah, I’ll fix it after I finish,” you said.

“Okay..” she said, raising an eyebrow. “Be careful.”

“I will, chef!” You say, already heading to the freezer. “Corner!”

You reached the freezer and pulled open the door to slip inside, looking for the beef Carmy had asked for.

“Ah!” You jumped, shoulder blade hitting the metal shelf. Carmy startled from the racks he was leaning on. 

“What the fuck?” He leaned on the door to steady himself; pushing it closed. 

“Fuck-sorry chef,” You said quickly. “I didn’t know you were in here.”

“Clearly,” he groaned, tipping his head back against the shelf. You could feel the shame burning up your chest and sternum. 

“Just get your stuff and go, okay?” 

You nodded and leaned over, right hand on the metal coils as you looked for the beef on the bottom shelf.

“It’s right there,” he said angrily, gesturing to the slab. Great day so far. You cut yourself and now your workplace crush was yelling at you. Like you could focus when he was right there. You could feel his body heat.

You gripped the plastic and lifted the meat into the crook of your left arm. Hefting it up, you turned and reached for the door handle, avoiding eye contact with Carmy. 

You pulled the handle. Nothing happened. What?

You tried again. Still nothing more than a slight jiggle, and the door didn’t budge. 

“What the fuck?” You mumbled.

“Let me try,” he said, moving into your space. His wide shoulders brushed against you, reminding you of all that manliness and what you wanted it to do to you.

You stepped back, the weight of the beef (and your attraction to Carmy) already starting to burn. You switched arms as he yanked hard on the handle, bicep and shoulder muscles flexing. He added his other hand and pulled down and back. Nothing.

This could not be happening. You can’t be stuck in here with Carmy. He’ll eat you alive, and not in the way you wanted. You couldn’t stand the thought of the cause of that twist in your gut hating you.

“Fuck!” he yelled, slamming his fist against the door. “Richie! Syd!”

You both knew the door was metal, several inches thick. They’d have to be close to hear him. 

You gasped and set the beef back so you could curl your arms around yourself. Carmy whirled around.

“You fucking locked us in here!” he said, pointing at you.

“Me?!” You yelled back. “It’s not my fault the door jammed!”

“Yes it is!” he fired back. “This wouldn’t have happened if you didn’t come in here!”

“I was getting the fucking beef you asked me for!” You screamed back.

He was about to respond when you heard muffled voices outside. 

“Syd!” You called out.

“Cousin!” He yelled at the same time.

“What’re you guys doing in there?” you hear Sydney say through the door. 

“The fucking door won’t open!” Carmy exclaimed. “Get us out!”

The handle shook, then shook more violently.

“I think it’s jammed!” came Richie’s yell.

“No shit, Sherlock,” you mumble.

Carmy looks at you out of the corner of his eye before turning back. “So can you fix it?”

“Um, not sure,” came his cousin’s reply. “I think we need to get Fak…”

“Fuck!” Carmy exclaimed louder, pushing his tattooed hands through his hair. “It’s lunch rush! I cant be stuck in here!”

“I’d also like to be outside!” You add.

“It’s okay chef,” Sydney’s voice responds. “I’ll keep us on task while Richie works to get you out. We won’t fall behind.”

“I got this, cousin!” Richie says.

Carmy sighs and leans his head against the freezer door, resting his hands on it.

“Good, chef. You’ll have a limited menu since our meat is in here.”

“On it Chef. We were due for a shipment anyway.”

“Thank you chef. An-“

Sydney cuts him off saying your name. “Just breathe, okay? We’ll get you out as soon as possible.”

“Thank you Syd,” you reply, feeling grateful for her ability to take charge.

“Oh! And I’ll slip a bandage under the door!”

“Ahhh thank you,” You respond with relief, looking down at the paper towel that was almost completely red.

That caught Carmy’s attention. His head whipped around to look at you as her footsteps pattered away.

“You good?”

You looked at him in surprise. “Yeah…just cut my finger.”

His eyebrows furrowed. “You have to be careful. We can’t be losing manpower.”

You glared. “Richie slammed into me. My carefulness didn’t have anything to do with it.”

“Here you go,” Syd said as she slid the bandaid under the door. “Fak will be here in an hour or so.”

“What?” you exclaim at the same time.

“Apparently he likes to go to a specific movie theater an hour away. I don’t fucking know.” 

You groan along with Carmy.

You slid down to sit on the cement floor and set about trying to open the bandage, but hissed when it slid across your cut. 

Carmy sighed. “Let me help you with that.”

“I got it, thanks. Isn’t it because I wasn’t careful enough, anyway?” You say.

“You can’t blame me for trying to keep the restaurant running.”

“Thanks for the sympathy.”

“Just let me do it.”

Carmy lowered himself to the floor, leaning back on his haunches. The image of this larger-than-life man on his knees for you made you slow, handing over the bandage.

He took it and began to unwrap. 

“I know you’re careful,” he says into his hands.

“Huh?” you ask in surprise.

He looks up at you, those beautiful blue eyes upping your heart rate. “I know you’re careful. I shouldn’t have yelled.”

Oh fuck. New reason why you couldn’t stay in here. You were gonna fall in love with him.

The praise makes you smile, and his face seems to lighten at that. “Thanks,” you say. “I assume it helps my case that Richie has a reputation for being not careful.”

He huffs a smile. “Maybe a bit.” He reaches his hand out gently. Seeing the veins and tattoos on the backs of his hands were not helping your heartbeat. Your nerves shake as he takes your hand and undoes the paper towel with the other. 

His face hardens and you look to see why. The gash was deeper than you realized, but nothing new to kitchen staff.

“Fuckin’ Richie,” Carmy grumbles angrily.

“It’s fine,” you say reassuringly. “Nothing I can’t handle.”

He makes eye contact again. “You shouldn’t have to. Not in my kitchen.”

Your lips part in surprise, and you think you catch him looking at them a beat too long before returning to your hand. The fact that such talented, skilled hands were working on your little cut was wild to you. 

A curl fell in his face, and you had to resist the urge to push it back for him. He was finishing up the bandage, and your mind screamed keep him over here.

“How are we gonna keep from freezing to death in here?” You ask, half joking. 

He moves back to lean against the shelves on the opposite wall, legs crossed at the ankle. You immediately feel the absence of his hands on you. 

He shrugs. “I’m used to it.”

“All that means is you won’t notice when the hypothermia kicks in.” 

His eyebrows furrow. “That cannot be true.”

“Yeah, I have no idea.” You respond, stretching your legs out so they’re parallel to his.

He chuckles, louder than you thought he would. 

“How is the job so far?” He asks.

“Good,” you say. “Better than a lot of kitchens. Except when I have to sit in a freezer with my boss.” You nudge his knee with yours. 

“C’mon, is he really that bad?” Carmy teases.

You think for a minute. “No, honestly. He’s pretty fantastic at everything he does. In appearance, too. I don’t know how he keeps those white shirts so clean.”

“I meant to be in a freezer with,” Carmy responds. There’s a shameful beat.

“I-“

“I’m just messing with you,” He smirks.

You roll your eyes, still embarrassed for your lovey rant.

“I look fantastic, huh?” 

You squirm. “I didn’t mean it like that-“

“How did you mean it then? Don’t hurt my feelings.”

“Can they be hurt?” You ponder. “I’m sure many women have told you similarly.”

He shakes his head. “That’s probably the only personal compliment I’ve gotten in years. They’ve all been about my cooking.” His face is a bit pink now.

You rub your arms, the goosebumps a combination of the freezer and Carmy’s gaze on you. Speaking of, his eyes follow the movement of your arms and his jaw ticks.

“That’s almost unbelievable to me,” You begin. “That no one tells you you look good.”

“Do people tell you that?” He asks.

“Sometimes, I suppose,” You say. “When I look nicer than this.” You gesture down at yourself.

“You still look nice,” He says gravelly, crossing his arms over his chest. You have to tear your eyes away from his forearms to respond. 

“Thanks, so do you,” You say lightly, hoping it’s not obvious how much you mean it.

You can tell from his eyes he sees through you, though. 

“I know you think so,” He says lowly.

“Oh yeah?” You ask nervously.

“Yeah,” he almost groans. “The way you look at me when I cook-it’s so distracting.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you whisper. 

“Yes you do,” he says, eyes hard. “But you’re so focused, and careful, that you never see when I’m looking the same way at you.”

You swallow hard. There was no way this was real. Carmy being into you? Impossible.

“Yeah, right,” You respond.

His jaw ticks. “What, you don’t think that’s true?”

“Carmy, look at you. Then look at me. Of course I don’t think that’s true.” You shake.

He pushes his hands through his curls again. His shirt rises up an inch when he does, and you can’t help but glance at the bit of happy trail-

“See,” He groans. “I cant think straight around you. Especially when you look at me like that. Like I’m worth your attention.”

“Of course you are, Chef,” you say, looking into his eyes as your voice went lower. 

The name seemed to do him in. His frazzled look shifted to feral, eyes bright and hair in every direction. 

“You never answered my question,” You said lowly.

“What question?”

“How are we gonna stay warm in here?” You say, tone suggesting there was more to what you were saying. “Because I can think of a few ideas…”

“Oh, so can I,” He said gravelly, dragging his eyes down your body as you rose up on your knees. “All of them require you getting over here.” he said.

Didn’t have to tell you twice. He uncrossed his legs, his perfect thighs framing a seat for you. Before you could sit, his large hands crept onto your back, grasping you as he put his face onto your belly.

“Is this okay?” He asked, tone serious.

“Yes, yes,” you almost whine, hands reaching the back of his head. 

When you run your fingers through your hair like you’d been dreaming about, he groans.

This giant, muscled man groans into your stomach. You feel like jelly. 

“Fuck,” he mumbles. “I haven’t done this in a long time.”

You had heard about his nonexistent dating history. But you didn’t care. 

“We don’t have to do anything you don’t want,” You say, looking down at him.

“No,” he groans, looking up at you, the angle of his eyes and his hands gripping you making you even wetter. “I want.”

You gasp and that reaction seems to spur him on. He slides his hands down your thighs and pulls you into his lap.

You groan quietly as you feel his cock through his pants, already hardening just from you being close. You couldn’t believe it. 

“You feel that? What you do to me?” He asks, tucking your hair behind your ear. “You think it’s true now?”

“Yeah, yeah,” you gasp. “Wanna feel what you do to me?”

He groans in your ear. “Oh, we’ll get there.”

Then, he kisses you. And not a polite one. He kisses you like you’re a new recipe he made: new and delicious and ready to be devoured whole.

You moan and his grip on your shirt tightens like you’ll disappear if he doesn’t hold on. You tug on his hair and your hips involuntarily buck against him. 

He pulls back and moves his mouth to your neck. “Needy little thing, aren’t you?”

“I could-“ His teeth scrape your neck. “I could say the same thing about you.”

His hands grasp your face and kiss you again, holding you and taking you. 

You reach your hands for the hem of his shirt, needing something to ground you with the heat running through your body. As soon as you reach your hands underneath his shirt and scrape your nails up, he seems to go haywire.

His hands grip anywhere they can reach, your back, your hips, your shoulders, your hair. Not quite where you want him.

You pull back and he looks worried. But that look dissipates when you reach for the bottom of your shirt, pulling it up and over your head.

“Oh…pretty girl…” he mumbles, hands sliding up from your hips and across your stomach. 

You smile and reach your arms to the back of your bra.

“You want this off too?” You ask.

“Yes, oh god, please-“

Your thighs try to squeeze together from his desperation, but his hips are in the way and he notices. 

“You like that baby? You like when I beg?” 

You whimper. Oh god. And he heard it.

“I can do that, pretty girl, I can beg,” He says, his blue eyes in yours.

“Fuck, Carmy-“ You groan.

His hands move up, sliding seductively up your skin. “Can I take it off baby? Want it to be me that gets to undress you.”

“Yeah, you can,” You nod, unable to form sentences. He was gonna kill you.

He undoes the clasp on the first try, and his eyes get wider as the bra falls away. Your nipples turn into points from the cold freezer.

“Ohhh pretty girl, look at these,” he says in fascination, running his thumbs over your peaks.

The rough skin against you makes you moan, head falling back as he grasps your tits in his hands.

“So, so pretty,” he says, and then he scrapes his teeth against them. You gasp, as he continues to suck and bite at your breasts. “Wanna hold ‘em every day-“

“Fuck-so glad you like them Carmy,” you groan. “Please, please can you take this off?”

You grasp at his shirt. “Of course, baby,” he says, hair even crazier than normal from your tugging. He helps you lift it up and over his head.

“Oh, god,” you say, eyes widening as you finally see him in his full glory. Seeing his defined biceps next to his pecs and happy trail might knock you out cold. “Oh Carmy you are fantastic.”

That makes him laugh, and you grab his neck to kiss him again, and he moans into your mouth. Your other hand runs down his chest, dragging along the waistband. His hands grasped your boobs, and it felt better than you thought it would.

His desperation and muscle was making you soaked. You needed him to touch you. 

“Carm-“ You squirm in his lap, looking for friction. 

“I know, baby, I got you,” he says. “C’mere.” 

He holds you into him with one arm, and you bite at his shoulder as he looks for the shirts on the hard ground, making a makeshift pillow for you. 

He lays you back, and you watch him as he slowly kisses and nicks his way down your body, getting more teethy and possessive as he gets lower.

He reaches the waistband of your pants, and looks up at you for assurance. You look at the door nervously, and he catches it.

“I’m not gonna let anyone see you,” He says. “This is for me,” he grabs your ass. “Understand?”

You nod desperately and wiggle your hips.

“I wanna hear you say it.”

“Heard, chef,” you tease, and he tsks at you, smirking.

He pulls your pants down and over your ankles, adjusting himself to breathe over your thighs.

You inhale sharply as the cold hits your legs, goosebumps forming. Carmy’s hands soothe you, running up your thighs slowly.

He rubs his thumb over the wet spot on your underwear and looks up at you. “All this for me?”

“Told you you’d feel what you do to me.” you say.

“Ugh, pretty girl, you’re gonna kill me.” he groans into your thigh, biting down and you whimper. 

“Please, Carm, don’t tease-“

He pulls your underwear down in one swift motion, looking at you for reassurance before pulling your thighs over his shoulders and diving into his meal.

You can’t help your load moan as he licks a stripe all the way up your folds, circling your clit when he gets there. 

Your hands twist into his hair but he doesn’t seem to mind. In fact, his hands clamp harder into your thighs as your taste spurs him on.

“Fuck,” His nose- that perfect nose- rubs your clit over and over and you almost squeal just from the visual: his tattooed hands on your thighs, his curls in your fingers, his blue eyes looking straight into yours.

He pushes his tongue into you and your hips buck as you moan when he curls it up. The absence of it inside you makes you whimper, until his middle finger enters you and you really do squeal.

“Carmy- ah-“

“Yeah, baby, lemme hear you.”

He curls his finger and hits that spongey spot inside you, making your hips buck again. His eyes look scoldingly at you before he removes his right hand and presses down on your lower stomach. 

“Shit-!” Your head lolls back. “That’s a nice trick, Chef-“ You can feel him smirk.

The pressure makes the finger pumping inside you pleasing in a whole new way. Still sucking on your clit, Carmy curls another finger inside you.

“Fuck, fuck, I’m gonna-“

“I got you, c’mon, come for me, wanna see you come all over my fingers,” Carmy says desperately, and you listen, snapping loose and releasing all over him. 

Your boss made you cum. Hard. Did you need to call HR? 

Nope. All you needed was to see him rising back over you, kissing up your stomach and over your breasts. 

His mouth was covered in your wet, and you grabbed his jaw hard to kiss him, your tongue in his mouth to taste yourself on him.

“Fantastic?” He asks.

“Fantastic.” you respond, meaning it. “Let’s hope Fak gets stuck in traffic,” you whisper into his lips. 

“Why?” he responds, teasing. You slide your hand down his chest and over his ass.

“Because I want you inside me,” you say. He moans and kisses you again, hard, whilst reaching for the fly on his jeans. 

“I was thinking the same thing,” he smiles into your lips. “Hands, chef, hands.”

You giggle and go to help him pull his pants down his legs and over his feet, kissing his jaw. You run your fingers over the happy trail you had been ogling, and grasp his cock over his boxers. He grunts in your ear, and takes your hand away. 

“Gonna come too fast,” he says, holding your hand above your head and kissing you.  “You make me crazy.”

“Same here, Carm.” You say, nipping at his neck. Your other hand teases at the waistline of his boxers.

He looks into your eyes. “Are you sure about this?” 

“Yes, Carmy, fuck, please.”

“Good.” He says, tugging his boxers down and you finally get to see him in all his glory. God, you didn’t think he could get more beautiful. Seeing him entirely naked sent another wave of wetness between your thighs.

“You’re so pretty, Carmy,” you mumble. He slid his hands up the outside of your thighs, keeping his eyes locked on yours. 

“All for you, baby,” his hand goes to his cock, and as the head slides inside you your head lolls back and groan.

“Hey, look at me.” You look back up to stare into his icy eyes. “Don’t stop.” He says.

He slides further into you and your jaw hangs open, trying so hard to keep eye contact with him.

You both groan as he bottoms out, every vein and ridge of him inside of you. Your pussy is still sensitive from the previous mind-blowing orgasm, and-

“God, pretty girl, you feel so good,” he groans in your ear. “Taking me so well.”

You pulse at the praise, and he feels it. You feel his smirk on your jaw. “You like that?”

“Yeah,” you gasp, your nails find purchase on his back.

He rolls into you, and it has your thighs squeezing around his hips immediately. 

“Shit, pretty girl.”

“Fuck, Carmy, feels so good,” you moan as he starts his rhythm, every ridge of his cock dragging inside your walls. The cold of the freezer vanishing against the hotness of your bodies.

His forearm is on the floor next your head, his other hand grasping your ass as he pummels into you. 

Your back scrapes on the floor, to match the marks you’re making on Carmy’s back. 

“Look so good with me inside you,” he grunts and you choke. His hand on your ass moves between your thighs and he circles your clit.

“Fuck- too much,” you gasp, clit sensitive. 

“You can take it.”

“Ah- Car- I’m gonna-“

“Me too, pretty girl, cmon-“ The nickname gets you every time, and you gush over him, squeezing around his cock.

He makes a choked sound and falls over the ledge after you, collapsing on top of your chest. 

You both breathe heavily, you rubbing up and down his back.

“That might have been more fantastic than your cooking,” You smile to the ceiling. He chuckles into your neck.

“Heard, chef.”

You were both dressed by the time Fak finally arrived, half an hour late complaining about unmissable after-credit scenes. 

Parting, you had gained a cell phone number and an address from Carmy, a kiss goodbye, and a “see you later” that promised many more. 

[hunny-bean]

Too Close For Comfort

Pairing: Frank Castle x F!Reader

Summary: Frank comforts you after he is forced to kill a man in your shared motel room.

Word Count: 5.4k

Warnings: 18+ (Minors DNI), Gun Violence, Dead Body (Not Frank's. Don't Worry), Explicit Sexual Content, Little Pinch of Angst, Long Ass Flashback, Porn With 3.5k Words of Plot

A/N: This is the first fic I've ever written! I've been wanting to write for the JB fandom for a while and I finally decided to go for it. I'm planning to write for a lot more of his characters in the future, but I figured Frank was a good starting point. Hope you like it! I'm open to feedback if you've got it. XOXO.

Read on AO3

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After almost three months of living in an old stolen pickup truck and a series of shitty motels, you had learned to count your blessings. An important one, you quickly came to realize, was good water pressure. You were in the middle of your forth shower in the three days you and your new travel partner had been in this town, and you were trying your best to savor the moment. Since the closest companion of long showers is long trains of thought, you allowed your mind to wander back to how your adventure first began.

You took a step back in the cereal aisle in your local grocery store to examine the top shelf and ran directly into someone trying to pass behind you. Startled, you dropped the basket you were carrying full of frozen veggies and canned soups, and watched them roll in all directions. You whipped around so quickly you almost joined your soup on the floor, but luckily a strong hand shot out to steady you before you could.

"Whoa. Sorry 'bout that," the stranger said. And that was how you met Frank Castle. Surprisingly, your first impression of him had nothing to do with his gentle giant aura or his warm, gravelly voice. Your first impression happened before you even laid eyes on him, and that was how backing up into him was like hitting a brick wall with your car. He didn't stumble or falter. He didn't even flinch.

"No, sorry, that was my fault," you replied, your cheeks flushed from creating a loud noise in a public place. The stranger removed his hand from your arm and glanced down at the floor where your bags of peas laid, slowly thawing.

"You, uh... You want some help with those?"

"Oh, I got it, don't worry."

The man mumbled an "alright" and you watched him start to walk away, expecting him to leave the aisle, but he only took a few steps before his foot brushed a stray can, and he bent down to help anyway.

"Thank you. You didn't have to do that," you said when all the groceries had been collected.

"No problem," he muttered. You weren't sure why, but there was something off-putting about him. Later you realized it was the stark contrast between his gruff outer appearance and his quiet way of speaking. He was so intimidating but he seemed so trustworthy. "You have a nice day, ma'am."

Before he could walk away, you found yourself calling out to him, too curious to let him leave without asking any questions.

"Hey, I don't think I've seen you around here before. Are you. . . new in town?"

He seemed amused by your attempt to start a conversation, but decided to indulge you anyway. "I'm just passin' through. So you, uh, you really know everyone that lives here?"

Although he seemed genuinely interested in what you had to say, he kept subtly glancing around like he was about to cross the street or something. When he turned his head, you noticed the remnants of a week-old bruise on his jaw.

"Pretty much, yeah," you responded. "So, life on the road, huh? Sounds pretty exhilarating."

He let out a friendly chuckle. "Yeah, I guess it can be. If exhilarating is what you call lukewarm showers and buying all your food from the gas station."

You smiled back, happy the man seemed to be warming up some. He seemed less on edge, and you weren't sure why, but that made you feel accomplished in some way.

"Well, this isn't a gas station," you remarked, playfully contradicting his earlier statement.

"You're right, it's not," he said. "But I had to make an exception because-" You watched as he pulled a round object from his jacket pocket, holding it up and waving it slightly as if to show it off. "-gas stations don't carry mangoes."

You mock gasped, unable to fight back a smile. "Pocket fruit? I hope you were planning to pay for that. Or are you 'just passing through' because you're on the run from the police?"

You expected him to laugh at this, but instead you saw him staring intently over your shoulder at a man who had just entered the aisle. He seemed to identify the new arrival as some sort of threat. You saw that they were looking directly at each other, and you suddenly felt uneasy. Before you could ask what was wrong, several things began happening at once.

The man at the end of the aisle pulled out a gun and pointed it directly at the two of you. No, not at you, just at the kind stranger, who immediately pushed you behind him as the first shot rang out, followed by a second one. Thankfully, they both missed the two of you, but the second bullet grazed the basket you were still holding which was sticking out from behind the stranger's leg. Instantly, you dropped the basket and began sprinting for the nearest exit with the stranger close behind you.

You ran through a door marked 'EMPLOYEES ONLY,' which the stranger quickly barricaded with a tall shelf packed with bulk boxes of paper towel rolls. As the shooter banged at the door, the two of you found an exit at the back of the stock room, which you flung open and rushed through into the building's side alley. The stranger pulled you behind the building to where his vehicle was conveniently parked, almost as if he'd been anticipating an emergency escape. Too terrified to argue, you didn't protest when he ordered you to get in the passenger seat and jammed his keys in the ignition. He tore out of the parking lot and onto the main road, carrying you away from your home and the man who had tried to kill you both.

It took you half an hour to work up the courage to ask questions.

"Who was he?" you asked, softly. You're sure he heard you, although he seemed happy to pretend he didn't.

After a few long moments, when he realized you weren't going to stop staring at him until he answered, he begrudgingly responded.

"A bad man."

"Why did he wanna kill you?"

"I, uh, took something from him," the stranger said, studying his rear view mirror to see if you were being followed.

"Are you a bad man?" you asked, tentatively.

At first he just sighed, and for a moment you thought that's all he was going to give you for an answer, but then he spoke.

"I'm not going to hurt you, if that's what you're asking."

"Then. . . can you take me home?"

"I can't turn around yet, not 'till I know we're not being followed. Then I might be able to take you back so you can pack a bag or two."

"Pack?! For what?" you exclaimed, dreading the answer. There was another awkward silence while the man planned his answer. "Why do I need to pack? Tell me!"

"That man, the one with the gun? He has a, uh, habit of targeting his enemies' loved ones."

"But we barely know each other, why the hell would he-"

"He doesn't know that."

"Besides," he continued after a while, "I don't really. . . have any loved ones. So he's kinda grasping at straws to find somebody I'd want to protect."

"So, he thinks you would care if I died, and now we're both in danger?" You stared at him in disbelief.

"Pretty much, yeah," he mumbled.

After that, the truck was silent for a long while. The only time you spoke in the next two hours was to give the stranger your address. You watched the trees and road pass by beside you, trying to figure out what you would pack when you finally made it home for possibly the last time. You were lost in thought so long that you were pulled out of your head by the truck's tires bouncing over the dip in your driveway. You didn't even know you had turned around.

"You get ten minutes. We're traveling light, so don't go crazy." You began to hop out of the truck before the stranger's voice stopped you in your tracks. You turned around and saw that he was looking at you for the first time since you escaped the grocery store. "For the record," he began, contemplating what to say next, "I would care if he killed you."

You just stared back at him, not knowing how to respond to that.

"I'm gonna keep you safe, alright?" he promised, and you believed him.

You nodded, and went inside to gather your belongings. There was just something about this man that made you want to trust him. You managed to fit everything you needed into a large duffel bag and a back-pack. Looking around you, you realized something. You lived alone and all your friends lived out of state. This town had nothing to offer you except a shitty restaurant job. Most likely, the only person who would even notice you were gone was your boss. You took a deep breath before returning to the truck, putting your life in the hands of someone you just met.

You hopped back in the passenger seat, and the stranger helped you toss your bags in the backseat after checking that they were of a reasonable size. "You ready?" he asked.

"Fuck, no. Lets go."

The two of you took off down the road in a different direction than before, hoping to throw the bad man off your trail. After about an hour on the road, you looked over at the stranger to find him smirking slightly, lost in thought.

"What?" you asked, happy the mood seemed to be lightening despite your situation. He glanced over at you momentarily, and instead of providing a verbal response, he just reached into his pocket and handed you a slightly dented but still perfectly ripe mango. You took it from him with a smile.

"What's your name?" you asked.

He looked at you for a long moment, before seeming to make a decision. "Frank. What yours?"

You were brought back to the present by a torrent of freezing cold water, telling you you had been in there too long. You were thankful that Frank seemed to prefer morning showers. As you stepped out and dried off, you thought about the man chasing you. Eventually, when Frank opened up to you, he revealed that his name was Jordan Carlisle, and that his father was involved in the murder of Frank's family. You also discovered that the thing Frank had taken from him was his father's life. It had been so long since that day at the grocery store, and you wondered if you'd ever see him again. Maybe by this point, he'd given up on his revenge, and decided to leave Frank in peace. But Frank said Carlisle wasn't the type of man to just give up, and that if you ever wanted to stop running, someone would have to die.

During your few months together, you also learned that Frank wasn't the type to run away or avoid confrontation. The only reason he hadn't met Carlisle half way and taken him down was to keep you safe. That and the fact that he had been forced to leave behind some supplies shortly before you met and was left with nothing but a handgun, two bullets, and a pocket knife. (All things you could use to kill a man, but probably not a trained assassin).

You were both anticipating the end of the chase, however, because Frank had recently acquired various new firearms and a respectable pile of ammunition, and he was getting a little tired of running. Also, there's only so much distance you can put between you and your attacker before he realizes he's moving in the wrong direction. You had just pulled your favorite cotton nightgown over your head when-

*BANG*

You heard the unmistakable sound of the motel door being forced open. You heard a gunshot and something hit the floor. The sounds of a physical struggle just behind the bathroom door simultaneously relieved you and caused your heart to slam against your rib cage. At least you knew Frank was still alive. Unfortunately, so was the person who broke in. You couldn't see him, but you were pretty sure you knew who it was.

Two more gunshots shocked you into motion. You slid under the bathroom sink and tried desperately to remember what Frank told you to do on your first night together in case of a break in. He told you to get outside and find a hiding spot or barricade yourself in a closet or bathroom and wait for him to come get you. His voice in your head was commanding you, "Do. Not. Move." You tried to do as you were told but the urge to make sure Frank was alright was growing stronger. The muffled grunts and thuds were scaring you. You couldn't tell who had the upper hand and you didn't know enough about guns to determine which shots came from which man.

A loud cry of pain from Frank was your final straw. There wasn't a single thought in your head, let alone a plan, but you couldn't keep hiding while someone you cared about was potentially getting himself killed. You ran to the bathroom door, unlocked it, and threw it open with as much force as you could manage. The door slammed into the wall beside it with a loud crash. A distraction.

Just a few feet in front of you, Jordan Carlisle was caught off guard by the sound and he twirled around to find the source. Almost instantly, his gun was trained on you. Suddenly, you felt consumed by fear unlike anything you'd ever felt before. You heard the gunshot and flinched violently backward, as if you could somehow escape the bullet, stumbling back onto the bathroom floor. You screamed and squeezed your eyes shut tight, waiting for the impact, but it never came. You hesitantly opened your eyes just in time to watch Carlisle collapse onto the dirty motel carpet, eyes open and unseeing. He was dead. The chase was over.

Almost immediately you burst into tears, unable to get the image of his lifeless body out of your head. You knew you should be relieved, but there was something about almost dying that made you prone to emotional outbursts. You gazed up at Frank across the room, who still had his gun pointed at the spot where Carlisle had been standing moments before. He slowly lowered it and looked over at you where you were sitting on the floor, sobbing. He seemed angry, like every cell in his body was infused with a furious energy, and he had just shot the thing he was taking it out on.

"WHAT THE HELL WERE YOU THINKING?!" Guess now it was your turn. "I TOLD YOU IF SOMEONE BREAKS IN, YOU FIND A PLACE TO HIDE AND YOU STAY THERE."

"I was j-just wo-horried about you," you hiccuped.

"I HAD IT COVERED."

"I'm sorr-"

"YOU COULD HAVE GOTTEN YOURSELF KILLED. THEN ALL OF THIS RUNNING BULLSHIT WOULD HAVE BEEN FOR NOTHING."

You turned your head away from the shouting and found yourself looking directly at Carlisle again. This time, you were unable to turn away. It was like you were completely frozen, tension locking all your muscles in place, rendering you incapable of even the slightest movement. Your tears began falling harder but you were barely making a sound. Your lungs were tight and burning. You couldn't even draw in a full breath. Frank's reprimanding faded into background noise. You found yourself wishing desperately that you were anywhere but in that room.

"Oh, fuck," Frank muttered when he saw you damn near hyperventilating. He calmed down considerably when he realized yelling at you was only making things worse. "Shit, I didn't want you to see this."

He made his way over to your side of the room and knelt down to be at eye level with you. You barely acknowledged his presence.

"Hey, look at me," he asked gently. You didn't move your head. Softly, Frank cupped your cheek, the one farther away from him, and used it to turn you in his direction.

"You're gonna be okay," he promised. "Can you stand, sweetheart?"

Seeing Frank alive and calm helped you come back to yourself. Slowly, you nodded. Frank stood and held out his hand to you, which you used to pull yourself up with a little effort. You managed to get upright, but your legs were shaking so hard you weren't sure if you'd be able to walk. It was pathetic, and you were quite sure Frank would agree, but he didn't say anything about it. He just took one look at you and scooped you up into his arms. You were embarrassed by your incompetence, but you had finally stopped crying, and that was an accomplishment in and of itself.

Frank carried you over to your bed on the far side of the room and laid you down carefully. On your way over, you passed his bed which was closer to the bathroom, and saw two bullet holes in the pillow Frank had been laying on when you left to take a shower. That was when the relief hit you. You felt no more grief or fear or regret, only solaced by the fact that you were both alive and safe at last.

"Stay here, alright? Don't move," Frank murmured. He turned to walk over to the body again but you grabbed onto his arm before he could leave. He looked back at you questioningly.

"I heard you get hurt," you mentioned shyly. "What happened?"

Frank's eyes revealed that he was happy you were talking again. He seemed touched that your first concern when the shock wore off was for him.

"Ran into the nightstand," he admitted, rubbing his side. "It's just bruised, nothing to worry about."

You had a feeling he wasn't telling you the full story, but you decided to accept his answer. As far as you could tell, he wasn't bleeding anywhere and he didn't seem to be in much pain. Satisfied, you let go of his arm and turned to face the wall. You had a feeling you wouldn't want to see what was about to happen.

You laid there for a while, listening to Frank working behind you. You heard something being dragged across the floor, several grunts of effort and a sickening thud. You heard the faucet running in the sink and the sound of the bathroom door closing. There were footsteps moving around the room. . . the sound of someone changing clothes. You smelled the air freshener left in the bathroom cabinet masking the scent of blood.

Finally, after God knows how long, you felt the bed dip slightly as Frank sat down on the edge. You sat up and moved next to him, resting your head on his shoulder after a moment of hesitation. He put his arm around your shoulder and held you closer to him. The two of you weren't usually this affectionate, but you had certainly grown closer during your time together, and you figured the situation called for it.

"Do you think the police are on their way down here?" you asked.

Frank shrugged. "Probably not if they haven't shown up by now." Frank tried and failed to fight back a small smile. "Either that guy behind the front desk is a really heavy sleeper, or he did something to piss off the jackass in our bathtub. The only other people in this dump checked out yesterday," he said. You couldn't help but smile at that along with him. You were just so happy to be alive.

The more you let that thought run through your head, the more you wanted to be close to him. You needed more than an arm around your shoulder after you almost got shot in the head. You wanted to be held. 'Oh, sue me,' you thought. 'Who wouldn't?'

But you tried to let it be enough. You weren't sure how Frank would react to more than what you were already doing and you were too nervous to find out. You felt Frank shift next to you and realized that overthinking had caused you to become tense. The silence between you grew slowly thicker and you were worried he was about to pull away from you. In that moment, Frank standing up seemed like the absolute worst thing in the world that could happen to anyone, and you weren't about to let it.

'Fuck it', you thought, and with one quick movement, you were straddling his lap with your arms thrown over his shoulders, pulling him closer to you. He was caught off guard for a brief moment, but a second later his arms were wrapped around your waist, holding you just as tightly. You buried your face in his neck, breathing him in and savoring the feeling of his pulse against your cheek.

"We're okay, Frankie," you breathed. "It's over."

"I told you I was gonna keep you safe, sweetheart. I don't make promises I can't keep."

The two of you stayed like that for a while, content to just hold each other until the sun shone through the curtains. Well, you thought you were content, but it wasn't long before the closeness started to affect you. He was just so warm and solid, and suddenly you felt like he was wearing too many clothes. You wanted to feel him. Feel his heartbeat and the warmth of his skin on yours.

Your stomach was tight with desperation and you felt tears forming behind your eyes. You needed to be closer. Your thighs tightened around Frank's hips and he felt your breathing get heavier against his neck. You shifted your position slightly to ease some of the wanting in your veins but you froze when you heard Frank's breath hitch.

As you settled your weight on his lap again, your new position provided a new sensation. There was something warm pressing against your inner thigh. Even through Frank's impenetrable denim jeans, you could feel it heating up.

Frank was just as aroused by your position as you were. He wanted you, too, but you knew he would never admit it because he cared about you too much to do anything that could potentially hurt you.

The worst part was, you could feel it getting bigger and pulsing softly right next to where you wanted it the most, and he knew you could feel it. He knew, and he knew you wanted it, but he still wasn't saying anything about it because he was too damn stubborn. He probably thought you weren't in your right mind and would regret it in the morning but that was just such bullshit. You could never regret him, and you were going to make sure he knew that.

There was still some part of you that was afraid to make a move, and that part of you really wanted Frank to break first. So, you decided to make him unable to ignore it any longer. Pretending to adjust your position again, you settled down directly on top of his bulge, making sure it was exactly where you wanted it. The feeling of his cock hardening against you sent another wave of desperation through your body, causing you to tighten your limbs around him again. Still feigning innocence, you rolled your hips once for good measure, grinding down on him to see his reaction.

You didn't see it so much as feel it, when his arms tensed up around you and he turned his head away from you in frustration. You could feel your blood pumping hard, and you were sure your face was flushed. You wondered if he could feel your heartbeat the same way you could feel his pressed up against your clit. You felt his cock twitch again, even through three layers of fabric, and you could barely take it any more. You rolled your hips again, purely on instinct, and accidentally let out a soft moan.

Frank exhaled sharply and slid his arm from around your waist to pull your head away from his neck.

"What are you doin', sweetheart?" he asked, looking at you sympathetically when he saw your wrecked face. Suddenly, it was all too much for you, and there was nothing you could do to stop a rogue tear from sliding down your cheek.

"Please," you whispered, and that was all you had to say.

He put a hand on the back of your neck and pulled you toward him before lightly brushing his lips against yours. You pushed forward, wanting more, but Frank pulled away before you could really kiss him. He just sat there for a moment, searching your eyes for any signs of reluctance or any lack of clarity whatsoever. In the end, he found nothing but pure desire and maybe, just maybe, love.

This time, when he leaned in, you met him half way. This time, it was more than just a brush of lips. Frank kissed you like you were the most precious thing in the world to him. Gentle, yes, but also tortuously deep. You felt his tongue brush against your lower lip and gently coax your mouth open to kiss you harder, and it was warm and wet and perfect. As your need got worse, you began to grind down on him again, sighing into his mouth from the friction.

The hand he had on your neck moved up to tangle in your hair, tugging gently, while the other one shifted to settle on your lower back as he encouraged harder, slower movements of your hips. As he forced you down against him, the feeling of the rough denim on your clit through your thin panties caused you to whine quietly. Every slight movement sent sparks shooting up your spine.

You shifted your body backwards and reached down between you to tug at his zipper, but it didn't want to come down. Frank let you struggle with it for a moment, but just as you started getting frustrated, he took over for you.

In one swift movement, you were on your back underneath him, your legs still hooked around him. He sat up for a moment to pull off his shirt (revealing his fucking perfect abs that seemed completely unfair and you were about to LOSE YOUR MIND BECAUSE HOLY SHIT) and then he was back on top of you, pressing one last kiss to your lips before pulling away to look you in the eyes.

"You sure you want this, sweetheart?"

"Don't you fucking dare leave me like this, Castle."

Frank snorted, rolling his eyes affectionately. "Yes, ma'am."

With one hand, he reached down to unzip and tug down his pants and underwear, freeing his flushed cock from it's uncomfortable confines. It was bigger than you expected it to be, which is saying something because you already knew he was big from rubbing against it. He was so hard it looked painful, and he gave himself a few tugs to take the edge off. Just watching it drip onto the bed had you feeling dizzy. You were unbearably wet and all you wanted was to feel it inside of you.

Luckily, Frank seemed to tell as much, because he slid his hand up your thigh, kissing your neck gently and pushing the hem of your nightgown up to your stomach. He hooked the fingers of one hand in the waistband of your underwear but he paused there, waiting for some sort of go-ahead. You nodded at him, and he sat back again to tug your panties down your legs and pull them off.

This time, instead of immediately climbing back on top of you, Frank took a moment to admire you from an upright position. He gazed hungrily at your exposed cunt before swiping a finger through your folds and brushing your clit with the pad of his thumb. You jolted at the feeling, whimpering when he did it again just to watch you shudder.

"Frankie, please," you whined.

Frank decided to have mercy on you, and he came up to kiss you as he lined the tip of his cock up with your aching hole. He pushed slowly until the thick head was all the way in, surrounded by your soft, fluttering walls. It was a stretch, and it wasn't even half-way in. You appreciated Frank giving you a moment to adjust, but you didn't want one. You wanted to feel all of him, even if it hurt.

Hooking your legs tighter around him, you tried to push him into you. It didn't work, obviously. You didn't think you could move Frank if you barreled into him full-force, but he got the message.

In one smooth thrust, he buried himself fully inside you, grunting loudly and whispering an "Oh, fuck" into your neck. Your back arched up off the bed and you moaned loudly as his cock hit sweet spots inside you that you didn't even know existed.

Having Frank hovering over you, connected to you in so many ways, was easily the best thing you'd ever experienced. You were both breathing heavily and shaking as you waited for the initial pleasure shock to wear off.

Once you adjusted, you shifted slightly under him, trying to fuck yourself on his cock. Whatever stimulation you managed to get from that was nothing compared to when he actually started moving. Each thrust was slow and deep, sending waves of bliss coursing through you. You couldn't stop the gasps and whimpers that kept escaping, nor did you want to.

Franks arms were on either side of your head, closing you in so all you could see and feel was him. You had never felt so safe in your entire life. Every movement was so complete and perfect. Nothing was rushed or forceful, but it was still all pure pleasure. You were sure you had never been this wet before.

Feeling Frank's back muscles shift under your fingertips as he thrust into you was mesmerizing, and hearing him moan softly and curse against your pulse point was sending shivers through your body. Every time Frank pushed his cock back inside you, you felt yourself ascending further, rapidly approaching your peak. Every time he pulled out slowly so you could feel it dragging against every part of your sensitive walls, you wanted to sob from feeling so good.

It wasn't long before you were crying out from your release, tightening your grip on every part of Frank and leaving long scratches down his back. When your climax finally hit, you swore you were having an out-of-body experience.

"Attagirl, that's it," Frank whispered as he felt you spasm around him. "Oh, fuck, sweetheart. Where-" he began. Reluctantly, you rubbed your hand on your stomach. You hadn't had access to birth control in almost six weeks and shitty motels don't provide condoms. Even the ones with good water pressure.

You rubbed the back of Frank's head gently as his thrusts grew more erratic, grabbing onto and playing with his hair. Suddenly, he pulled out of you and jerked his cock barely three times before he was finishing on your stomach with a quiet groan, painting it with his cum.

Breathing heavily, the two of you collapsed next to each other, coming down from your highs and processing what just happened. Idly, you began playing with the mess on your stomach as you thought about what was next for the two of you. There was no way in hell you were letting Frank drop you off at your house and just take off after that. You know you said "It's over," but it couldn't really be over, right?

"Stay with me," you whispered.

"I'm not goin' anywhere, baby."

"I'm not talking about tonight. When you take me back home, stay with me."

Frank pushed himself up on one elbow, looking at you in disbelief. "Sweetheart, I don't think I can-"

"Then I'll stay with you. My house is a family heirloom, I've only gotta pay for water and electricity. It'll still be waiting for me whenever I need it."

"I can't let you do that. You have no idea how much I want to, but I'd get you killed."

"Then stop moving for a while. No one would find you in that town. Just stay with me. Please. If you hate it, you can leave."

Frank sighed, glancing around the room before settling his gaze back on you. He brought his hand to your face, brushing his fingertips down your cheek like you were a precious artifact. You both knew he wasn't ready to let you go.

"Okay."

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[fluentmoviequoter]

No Bad Days When You're In Them

Requested Here!

Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!girlfriend!reader

Summary: Tim has a bad day, but he forgets about it when he sees you get hurt.

Warnings: angst, kidnapping, mention of domestic violence, r gets hit by a vehicle, mention of hospital and broken bones, fluff and comfort!

Word Count: 2.3k+ words

Masterlist | Tim Bradford Masterlist | Request Info/Fandom List

The worst part about having a bad day, in Tim’s opinion, is that he knows it’s affecting him, but there’s nothing to do about it. With each passing moment, he feels his attitude worsening, but each of those moments also keeps him from caring that he’s snapping at the people closest to him. Bad days are inevitable, they are a comfort of sorts to cops, but that doesn’t mean Tim enjoys them.

“Wait, what does that mean?” Nolan asks.

“You passed the rookie exam, figure it out,” Tim answers harshly.

“How are we supposed to get inside if the guy isn’t cooperating? We don’t have a warrant,” Nolan points out.

“Then focus on what we do have!”

“A report of a kidnapped child and no probable cause to get in! You’re not the only one having a bad day, Bradford.”

“Then don’t make it worse.”

“Whoa! What is going on?” Angela asks as she approaches Tim and Nolan.

“Get a little room,” Nyla commands.

Tim steps back from Nolan, his jaw tight and his shoulders drawn up. Between the bad morning he had and the stress of a kidnapping case, Tim is ready for the day to end. If he can go home, and see you, then maybe the residual tension and annoyance he’s carrying will disappear. He’ll just have to remind himself not to take anything out on you; he promised never to do that again. At this moment, though, he can’t see himself doing anything more than finding comfort in your presence.

Tim’s phone rings as Nyla relays the details of the missing person’s report the child’s father gave, but he silences it without looking at who is calling.

“Today is going to get worse so if either of you have a problem, get away from my case,” she tells Tim and Nolan.

“No problem,” Nolan says. “Sorry.”

She looks at Tim, and he fights the urge to roll his eyes as he agrees, “I’m good.”

“Good. Tim, you’re going around the back with Angela. Nolan, you’re contact; find a way to get this guy to the front door and we’ll take it from there.”

“Did you get a warrant?” Nolan inquires.

“No,” Angela answers. “You two don’t have probable cause?”

“I can make him scream,” Tim offers.

“Thanks, but we need a legal means of getting in there. If he has this little girl, she’s got-“ Angela checks her watch to say, “Less than half an hour until she needs insulin.”

Tim exhales and looks at the house. A curtain moves on the far side of the house, and he taps Angela’s arm before he points to it. She turns to watch, and Nyla and Nolan follow suit. With their eyes on the window, they don’t notice the front door opening.

The curtain falls back into place and Tim looks away. Standing in the open doorway, the owner of the house raises a gun toward Tim.

“Gun!” he warns.

He, Angela, Nyla, and Nolan dive to the side of the walkway for cover. The man empties the magazine into Tim’s shop.

“Can today get any worse?” Nolan mumbles.

“Now it will!” Nyla responds quickly. “Shut up, Nolan!”

“Cover me,” Tim tells Angela.

“No, Tim-“

She doesn’t finish her sentence before she raises her gun to cover him. Tim moves quickly through the yard as the man reloads his weapon. Just as the new magazine snaps into place, Tim pulls the gun from his hands and uses the force to throw the man to the ground. Nolan approaches quickly to place handcuffs on the suspect, but Tim simply sets the gun aside and walks into the house.

“Hello?” he calls. “LAPD! It’s safe to come out.”

He hears a scraping sound in a room down the hall and pulls his gun from the holster as he nears the door. The scraping slows before someone or something hits the door.

“Help!” a young girl cries.

“Hey,” Tim greets as he holsters his gun. “My name is Sergeant Bradford.”

“I’m Josie,” she replies.

“Okay, Josie, I’m going to help you. Listen, I’m going to tap the wall over here, and I want you to get as far from the door as you can before you tap back, okay?”

“Okay.”

Tim extends his arm and taps his knuckles against the wall beside the door. A moment later, Josie knocks further down the wall. Tim stands and kicks the door twice before it snaps, and he muscles it open the rest of the way.

“Bradford!” Angela calls from the doorway. “Still having a bad day?”

Josie hugs Tim’s legs, and he knows that saving one girl isn’t enough to escape the day he’s having. No rest for the weary, right?

“There’s a situation downtown. Need all the backup they can get,” Angela adds. “Hi, Josie, I’m Detective Lopez. Your dad is waiting in my office to see you.”

Josie releases Tim and runs toward Angela. And just like that, Tim is back on patrol and navigating through the crowded and hectic streets of Los Angeles. When he reaches the address he was sent to, he sees a crowd of violent protestors. Sitting back in his seat, he takes a deep breath.

Tim’s phone buzzes in his pocket, and he clenches his jaw as he pulls it out. Whoever has been trying to contact him is relentless, as if he wasn’t juggling enough already.

“Nell?” Tim wonders aloud as he reads the contact name on the numerous missed calls.

He calls her back, and she answers nearly immediately. She begins talking the moment the line connects. She reads an address that Tim knows by heart, and he pulls the gear shift of his shop into reverse. As he steers into a j-turn and hits the sirens to drive the other way, he asks Nell why she’s saying his girlfriend’s address.

“We got a domestic call nearby, and the responding officers checked on the neighbors. She wasn’t home, but it was her house number that the caller gave,” Nell explains. “We don’t think she’s in danger, since she isn’t home-“

“She should be,” Tim interrupts. “She told me she’d be home all day today. Tell me more, Nell.”

“Yeah, of course. So, the caller said he was at her address, but said it was his house. Probably another neighbor wanting to be anonymous.”

“How long ago did the officers try to contact her?”

“About half an hour.”

Tim hangs up on Nell and dials your number. He’s close to your house, but if you answer he’ll probably yell at you in relief. Unfortunately, he doesn’t get the chance to see what his reaction would be because you don’t answer. As he turns onto your street, he hits the brakes. There’s a small crowd of people in the middle of the road, and he jumps out of the shop as he races toward them.

“Tim!” you yell.

He stops and turns, surprised to see you approaching from the other side. “The guy that was hitting his wife, his- his brother showed up and started knocking on doors. He was trying to find the person responsible for his brother going to jail.”

“Slow down,” Tim says softly, laying his hands on your shoulders.

“No, Tim, he was out here yelling and waving a gun around, but then he just disappeared. We started gathering in one of the yards, but we still don’t know where he is.”

Tim looks around and sees the crowd separating. He expected someone to be in the center of the crowd, but it’s just concerned neighbors. As he radios for backup, he keeps a hand on you. The bad day wasn’t supposed to extend to your neighborhood, yet Tim finds himself relaxing slightly just because you’re beside him.

“Wait in the shop,” he tells you.

“But I-“

“I need to know you’re safe. The passenger door is unlocked, and more cops will be here in less than two minutes. Just- just wait, okay?”

You nod and slowly pull yourself from his touch. Once you’re in his car, he yells into his radio to find out where his backup is.

“I’ve got a crowd of innocent people standing like a target with no idea where the shooter is!” he exclaims. “Get somebody here!”

“We’re trying,” Grey replies calmly. “I know where you are, but you need to step back from that, from her, and focus on your job.”

“I’ll focus on my job when I can do it again,” Tim snaps.

He directs the crowd of people to stand in a nearby front yard, then asks them to sit with their backs against a fence to protect themselves from the armed man looking for revenge.

You watch Tim stand with your neighbors, but he’s looking around with his hand on his gun. You’d been doing the same, but there was no sign of the man who pounded on your door and demanded to know if you had called the police. You hadn’t, but you knew exactly who did: the man who lived across from you and almost always got your address numbers mixed up.

“Bradford, backup’s a minute out,” someone says over the radio in Tim’s car.

From where you sit, you can see him as he replies, and he looks stressed. The moment everything is under control, you’ll hug him, you decide.

You don’t get much further than that in your planning before something catches your eye. Directly to your right, a construction front loader is barreling toward you. There’s no time to get out of the shop and out of its path, so you brace yourself for the impact. Just before the door beside you folds in against your side, you see the face of the man Tim is looking for. Interestingly, you don’t feel any pain, just a deep hope that this doesn’t make Tim’s day worse or get him hurt.

Tim watches the vehicle crash into his car. With the bullet holes littering the back, he should’ve realized that leaving you alone was a bad idea. Either the day is just historically bad or that shop is cursed. He pulls his gun as he runs toward you. Finally, his backup arrives, and he yells for them to get the guy in the front loader.

“I need an R/A! Now!” he yells into his radio.

Tim reaches his shop and pulls the driver’s side door open. Your eyes are closed, and you’re wedged uncomfortably between the bent door, your broken seat, and the raised console. He pulls loose pieces of his wrecked shop away from you, his bad day and worse attitude completely forgotten. When he reaches over your lap, you lay your hand on his.

“Are you okay?” you ask as you blink your eyes open.

“Are you?” Tim inquires quickly.

He’s sitting backward in his seat, his eyes locked on yours. He flips his hand to hold yours and sighs when you squeeze it kindly.

“I’m okay. Sore, uncomfortable, but fine. Are you?” Tim shakes his head, and you add, “You seemed stressed. Bad day?”

“That’s not important.”

“It is,” you argue. “It is. And as soon as I’m not trapped here, I’ll hug you to prove it.”

“You’re going to the hospital first.”

You want to argue, say that you would prefer to just go home, but Tim’s expression makes you stop. The stressed look, the yelling, it’s all gone as he focuses on you. As long as he doesn’t start apologizing, you will do whatever he asks.

“Does that mean you won’t hug me?” you ask.

“Not until I know you’re okay,” Tim replies.

He looks out the window beside you and squeezes your hand. The front loader has been towed away from the shop, and your chest is rising a touch higher as if pressure has been taken off of you. Tim hopes that you’re right, that you will just be stiff and sore for a while and nothing worse. His bad day seems like nothing now; seeing you hurt is worse than any hectic day the LAPD can throw at him.

A firefighter moves to your door and prepares to remove the door forcefully. The EMT beside him looks at your eyes and head, then welcomes you to pass out if you want, rather than fight any pain or discomfort. Tim nods reassuringly, his hand still in yours, and you close your eyes.

You’re happy to spend the night at Tim’s rather than the hospital. The shared comfort is good for both of you after the day you had. While you recline in Tim’s bed, mindful of the deep bruising on your right side, Tim lays on your left. His head is on your shoulder as he runs his fingers along your forearm. There’s a movie playing on the TV screen, but the only thing you can think of is the man beside you.

“I love you,” you say.

“I love you,” Tim replies. He sits up to look at you and adds, “I’m sorry you got hurt because of me.”

“That wasn’t your fault. You were trying to keep me safe. You always keep me safe.”

Tim shakes his head as his eyes drop to a scrape across your cheek.

“You keep me safe from more than you know,” you whisper. “Do you feel better now? Bad day over?”

“It hasn’t mattered since I saw that guy hit you,” Tim admits.

“I make your bad days go away?” you ask with a smile.

“You do. Not watching you get hurt. Nothing else mattered in that moment.”

You nod and thank Tim again. He returns to his place beside you, and you take turns holding each other throughout the night. You both need comfort, and this is the best place to get it. When Kojo joins you after the movie ends, you know that today wasn’t all bad, and Tim realizes that no day can be bad when you’re in his life. Not when this is what you both come home to.

[reallyromealone]

(Hi Rome! Sorry to bother you)

But may I request part two of Ciel babysitting Elizabeth's younger brother? Perhaps this time they go out for a fun event (With Lizzie of course) when they turned around after watching a few people doing tricks the 3 didn't see (name) anymore so they panicked. What they didn't know was that the little one made friends with a new demon friend, Sebastian found him trying to carry him away from his demon friend, but his friend couldn't let him go

(Sorry for my bad grammar, and you can choose to ignore this)

Fandom: black butler

Pairing: black butler cast x male reader

Tags: child male reader - fluff

Warnings: none

None:

🌑🌒🌓🌔🌕🌖🌗🌘🌑🌒🌓🌔🌕🌖🌗🌘🌑

(Name) held his nannies hand as he, his sister, Ciel and Mr. Sebastian went to the spring fair, Balloons and games and swan boat rides amongst it all "look!" (Name) pointed to what seemed to be a pink cloud on a stick, Funtom having funded this whole event so Ciel recognized it all including the candy floss that had gotten big through out England.

(Name) was dressed in a lovely spring outfit, Lizzie making sure he was dressed in his best "Mr. Sebastian! Look, a kitty!" When (name) learned the butler likes cats, he always found something cat related to show the other.

(Name) got to lead the group around and Sebastian won him toys, the boy over the moon with his new toy. "Whoa...." He said in awe at the juggler on a unicycle and the others watched curiously, unaware (name) saw something of even more interest and wandered off.

"Alright (name)...(name)?" The group looked around to realize that there was no itty bitty to, panic flooding them (save for Sebastian who was calm at all times).

"Hi!" (Name) looked up at the other who looked at him curiously, having gone to the human realm for business and this small human clung to him "hello little one" he said softly and (name) beamed "what's your name?" The boy asked and the other tilted his head "my name is Asmodeus... But you can call me Asmo" he said softly as he lifted the boy in his arms "my name is (name)! I'm four!" He said with pride and the lust demon chuckled.

This human was his now.

"Interesting"

Sebastian didn't know what to do or feel as he saw a sin hold little (name) who babbled about anything the boy could think of "there's my family!" (Name) tried to pull away but the demon clung to his new best friend "Mr. Sebastian! Do you think mama will be upset at my new friend?" (Name) asked as the demon basically claimed him as his son and after some convincing, (name) was wondering around with a "dog" much to his nannies worry.

Though Sebastian was worried on this friendship between the avatar of lust and his young masters brother in law...

[marvelfanfn2187a113]

Hold My Hand

Sam and Dean Winchester & little sister!reader, Jack Kline & teen!reader

Requested by @gabrielasilva1510

Synopsis: you and Jack are always there for each other

Warnings: fighting, people want to kill Jack, angst with a happy ending, probably continuity errors because season 12-14 is kind of a blur to me

“We have to find her.”

“We don’t even know where to start.”

“There’s gotta be something we can do, she can’t have gotten far.”

“Why don’t we just let her go?”

All eyes turned to you when you interrupted Team Free Will in the middle of an argument.

“That’s not an option,” Dean scoffed. “She’s carrying Lucifer 2.0, we’ve got to stop her before he’s born.”

“Just because Lucifer’s his dad, doesn’t mean he’s gonna be evil,” you argued. “He didn’t do anything, and if Kelly wants to have this baby, why should we stop her?”

“It will kill her,” Cas said.

“And yet she said she wants to have him anyway,” you countered.

“Whoa whoa, can we back up to when I said, Lucifer’s son?” Dean said. “It’s evil, we kill it, no argument.”

“It’s not like he’s done anything!” You said. “He’s innocent! He didn’t ask to have Lucifer for a dad, and he can’t be evil before he’s even born.”

“Look, does any of this matter?” Sam cut in before the argument could get more heated. “We can’t find Kelly, so there’s nothing we can do yet anyway.”

“Fine,” Dean huffed. “But when we find her, there’s no argument. We can’t take a chance with that thing.”

“He’s not a thing, Dean.” You glared at your brother, but nobody said anything more to continue the argument.

…

The argument was inconsequential—you didn’t find Kelly in time. Well, you and your brothers didn’t.

But Cas did, and he paid the price.

You didn’t reach Jack fast enough to stop Dean from shooting him, and once he knocked the three of you out and disappeared you weren’t able to stop Dean from going on a hunt to end him. Once Cas was gone, Dean was more convinced than ever that killing Jack was right, and you just didn’t seem able to get Dean to listen to you anymore.

“You’ve been quiet,” Sam observed when the two of you got a moment away from Dean.

“Why won’t he listen?” You sighed. “I-I know he’s hurt because of Cas, but we all are. Just because he’s gone doesn’t mean it’s Jack’s fault, and it’s not fair to hunt him down because of it.”

“Jack?” Sam asked.

“Yeah. Well, I think. I saw it painted on the wall in Kelly’s house, I think that’s what she wanted to name him. He’s not just Lucifer’s son, Sam, no matter what Dean thinks. He has a name, and he doesn’t have to be evil just because Lucifer’s his dad, or-or because Kelly died in childbirth, or because Cas died to protect him. Those are all decisions that other people made, not Jack.”

“I understand what you’re saying. I just don’t think Dean does.”

“I’ve tried to tell him,” you said. “I’ve tried a hundred times. He doesn’t want to listen.”

“I know,” Sam said. “But he’s in pain. We’ve got to cut him some slack.”

“If we cut him too much slack, then we’re just signing Jack’s death warrant.” You sighed. “I can’t do that, Sam. If I do, then Kelly and Cas died for nothing.”

Sam opened his mouth to respond, but closed it quickly when he saw Dean returning to the Impala.

…

Finding Jack wasn’t as hard as Dean was afraid it would be. On the way to a lead, Sam and Dean restarted the argument about Jack.

“I’m sorry, are you defending the son of Satan?” Dean scoffed after Sam tried to calm Dean down.

“I’m not defending anything, it’s just—“

“I am,” you butted in. “The only reason Jack attacked us is because you shot him!”

“Hey!” Dean smacked his hand against the steering wheel. “I shot the monster, that’s what we do!”

“Jack’s not a monster!” You blurted.

“Jack?” Dean scoffed. “It’s Lucifer’s son, not some new best friend. And he killed Kelly, and…” Dean’s voice stuttered. “And Cas…”

“Jack didn’t kill them!” You insisted. “They wanted to protect him, that doesn’t make it his fault!”

Dean opened his mouth to yell at you, his fingers whitening on the steering wheel, when Sam interrupted.

“Guys, we’re here.”

Dean gritted his teeth as he pulled into the parking lot.

“The only plan I have right now is killing that thing before he kills anyone else.”

“Is Cas…” Sam swallowed. “Is Cas really gone?”

“You know he is.”

…

Once the three of you finally tracked Jack to a police station, Sam managed to taser him before the three of you got arrested by the very suspicious cop.

You and Sam were left with Jack in a holding cell while Dean talked to the woman—no doubt, he was trying to convince her to help him kill Jack. At least, that’s what you were afraid of. Even Sam, who you considered much more on your side, was pressing himself against the farthest wall from Jack when he woke up.

Once Jack relaxed and his yellow eyes faded, you approached him even as Sam held back.

“Y/N…” Sam whispered warily, but you ignored him, opting to sit next to Jack on a hard metal bench. Jack watched you silently for a moment before offering a small smile and turning his attention back to Sam, who was trying to ask him some questions.

“Will you tell them I’m sorry?” Jack asked him. You saw the guilt in his eyes, and it twisted your gut—Jack had never meant to hurt anyone, and he must’ve been so scared when Dean shot him.

“Um…yeah,” Sam agreed.

Sam continued to question him, and you continued to remain by Jack’s side. You were sure it was making Sam nervous—his eyes kept glancing towards you, and his hands were twitching, as though he was prepared to act at any moment. But you could also tell that it was calming Jack. The changes were subtle, but you could almost feel rather than see him…not leaning in your direction, but more like relaxing towards you, like a flower growing towards sunlight.

Once Jack announced that he’d had to grow up quickly because the world was dangerous, you felt yourself understanding him more and more. Sam seemed to relax when Jack claimed that Castiel was his chosen father, not Lucifer. The more Jack spoke, the more the two of you realized that this was not some monster, some devil-spawn—he was just a kid.

And it all was going so well until Dean returned.

Jack was still stiff and silent after learning that Cas was dead, so he didn’t acknowledge Dean’s presence. You wanted to go and make sure that Dean didn’t still plan to kill Jack, but Sam beat you to Dean, and you didn’t want to leave Jack alone. Still, you listened carefully as Sam tried to convince Dean that Jack was just a kid.

The brothers were interrupted by a cry for help—Dean went to investigate, leaving the three of you stranded in the cell. He wasn’t gone thirty seconds when to angels broke down the door. Once they were inside, Jack doubled over in pain, stumbling against the wall.

“Jack!” You cried out, reaching over and steadying him. One of the angels ripped the door off its hinges, and Sam and the angel fought while you stayed by Jack’s side, keeping yourself between him and the other angel.

Sam was on the floor in a minute, overwhelmed by the angel. You were conflicted for a moment—did you help Sam, or Jack?—but the angel ignored Sam once he was on the floor, going straight to Jack. It only took one swift blow to get you out of the way, your head slamming painfully against the rough stone wall of the jail cell.

“Jack…” you whimpered, watching as the angels grabbed him and marched him towards the exit.

“Hey!” Sam yelled, and you turned to see him press his bloody palm against the angel-repelling symbol he’d finger-drawn in blood. The angels were gone in a bright flash of light, and Jack remained, kneeling in pain by the door.

“Jack.” You jumped to your feet, staggering a little as the blood rushed to your head, but you still managed to reach Jack and grab hold of his shoulder. “Jack, are you ok?”

Before he could answer, the door slammed open to reveal a third and final angel wielding an angel blade. Sam grabbed one the other angel had dropped and jumped in front of Jack. You stayed right by Jack’s side as he stood to his feet.

“Don’t.” Sam said.

“Or what, other one?” The Angel scoffed.

“Guess.” Dean grunted, entering right behind her.

You felt your hand subconsciously finding Jack’s as you took a half-step forward, trying to block his body with your own. You saw Jack glance at you out of the corner of your eye—he looked confused—but his hand squeezed yours even tighter.

“If I can’t have him, no one can,” the angel promised, twisting her blade and driving into Jack’s chest.

“No!” You cried as Sam killed her with one swift jab. The three of you watched with bated breath as Jack grabbed hold of the angel blade and slowly removed it.

“I…I’m fine,” he breathed.

Sam and Dean stared at each other, but you couldn’t take your eyes off the bloody hole in the middle of Jack’s chest.

“I’m fine,” Jack repeated, his hand once again finding yours.

…

You sat with Jack while Sam and Dean discussed the options. It didn’t take long to decide—Jack would be going with you. Of course, you were almost certain that it was because Dean was looking for a way to kill him, but you would take what you could get for now.

You finally separated from Jack when the four of you returned to the cabin. Dean went in to prepare Cas’s body, and Jack wanted to see his mother one last time. You couldn’t bring yourself to go in—to see what you’d lost. So you waited outside until both bodies were brought out to burn.

You saw Sam speaking to Jack while Dean poured gasoline on the pyre, but you couldn’t bring yourself to listen. Sam and Dean spoke, but it was like you were in a play, one where two characters went off to talk but no one else on stage was supposed to hear what they were saying. Their words weren’t quiet, and they were mere inches from you, but you couldn’t make it out anyway. Then Dean tossed his lighter into the fire, and you watched as flames engulfed the two covered bodies. You wanted to look away—to close your eyes, as if that would somehow make anything better—but you couldn’t tear your gaze away. You felt like an unwilling witness to the burning blaze that took your friends away—away to somewhere better, you hoped. The smoke rose up, and you watched it as if hoping to see their souls rising with it—off to a better world, a world without so much pain.

Jack’s hand on your arm snapped you out of your daze. He looked for a moment as if he didn’t know what he was doing. But then his hand found yours, and you felt it—a reassuring squeeze. His hand was warm, and his touch was comforting. Your gaze met his for the briefest of moments, before both of you looked back at the fire.

But not before your hand squeezed his back.

…

“I don’t like that,” Dean grumbled to Sam. Sam looked at him, confused, and Dean gestured to the back seat. Jack was asleep against the window, and somewhere along the line you’d gone from sleeping on your own window to sleeping on Jack’s shoulder. “We shouldn’t be letting her get that close to it. As soon as we figure out how to kill a nephilim, he’s gone.”

“Dean, we don’t know that he’s evil,” Sam reasoned.

“Yes we do, Sam. And every time we try to cheat, try to pretend that the bad guys aren’t so bad, people end up dead. So now we’re gonna do what we should always do—end the problem.”

Both boys halted their conversation when they saw you stir—getting you involved would only make the argument worse; they knew where you stood on the issue.

“Dean, the problem might be the only way to save mom,” Sam argued.

“Mom is gone.”

…

You awoke to a blinding motel sign blinking above the Impala.

“We should be on the road,” Dean was arguing to Sam.

“Dean, you were hallucinating sheep. We need a few hours,” Sam countered.

“This is nice!” Jack said enthusiastically when he saw the dingy, near-rotting motel room. You found yourself smiling at his eagerness while Sam and Dean dropped their bags on the ground.

“Wow,” Jack breathed when he turned on the tv and a Scooby-Doo episode started playing. “This is…wonderful.”

You grinned, settling down next to him on one of the beds to watch, when Dean stepped over.

“Hey, no,” he said, moving to turn it off. He hesitated when he saw the show, almost smiling at what it was. You were just starting to hope that Dean was coming around when the smile dropped and he clicked the tv off. “You’re on the couch sport, move,” he said to Jack. “Y/N, I guess you’re sharing my bed tonight.” Dean snatched a bible off the counter and tossed it to Jack. “Here, why don’t you read a book.”

“I’m gonna stay up for a little bit,” you said, going to sit by Jack on the couch. Dean pursed his lips, but said nothing.

Sam left and returned quickly with burgers. The four of you chowed down—you watched as Jack started to mimic all of Dean’s movements, and you had to bite back a smile when Dean started to get annoyed with it.

After dinner, you dozed off. Sometime in the night, Donatello arrived, but you didn’t wake until you started to hear raised voices. You sat up on the couch and noticed Jack next to you. He was watching Sam, Dean, and Donatello argue about him—mostly Sam and Dean.

“He doesn’t have to be evil!” Sam was saying. “We don’t know that he isn’t more like Cas and Kelly than Lucifer!”

“I’m right here you know!” Jack argued, but no one listened.

“Yeah but he’s not Kelly, not Cas, he’s the freakin devil!”

You flinched in surprise when Jack disappeared from next to you. Dean turned to look at him, growling in annoyance when he saw Jack was gone.

“Nice going, Dean,” you huffed, jumping to your feet and running out to find Jack. You slammed the door in Dean’s face before he could respond.

…

“Hey Jack.” You breathed a sigh of relief when you saw Jack, sitting on a crate in an alleyway outside of the motel. You had a feeling he could’ve just as easily transported himself to Hawaii, so you were more than relieved that he hadn’t gone far.

Jack tucked his head into his arms as if trying to escape you.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “Everyone was so angry.”

“It’s not your fault,” you sighed.

“I guess you just wanted to be away from it all.” You hadn’t noticed Sam following you until he spoke.

“And suddenly, I was,” Jack sighed. You felt your gut twist at the guilt in his voice—he didn’t want his power, you could feel it. It must be so overwhelming for him, to just think or feel something and have it happen.

“Yeah,” Sam sighed. “I’ll tell you what, you’ve got some special skills, Jack. We just need to make sure you get a grip on them, so you don’t hurt anybody.”

“Is that why Dean hates me?” Jack asked, and you had to remind yourself to stay calm—you loved Dean, but right now you’d never wanted to hit him more.

Jack and Sam continued to talk about Dean, and about Jack’s own powers, but again you found your mind wandering. You didn’t know what to do, but for some reason you felt that more than anything, you wanted to protect this kid. You’d never met anyone like him—he was so kind, so inquisitive, so bright and happy—and you felt like he was someone you needed in the world.

“I just don’t know if I’m worth all this.” Jack’s tearful confession brought you back to the present.

“You’re mom thought you were,” Sam told him. “So did Cas. So do I.”

“Me too,” you jumped in. “Jack, I believe you can control your powers. And I believe that you deserve a chance here. I believe that you’re worth that.”

You weren’t sure if he moved or if you did, but somehow Jack’s hand was grasped in yours once again. It just felt right—like he was a wind chime, beautiful when moved in the right direction, and you were the string holding him up—you made each other better; you made each other work.

…

Dean’s relationship with Jack didn’t change much after you guys brought him back to the bunker—even after Jack saved you all from Asmodeus. Dean tried his best to keep you away from Jack, but he was never successful. The only thing he could do was never leave you alone in the bunker with him—which he made sure to do.

That plan backfired one day when Dean took you with him for a supply run—he didn’t need you, but you’d been “spending too much time with the devil’s kid” recently, so he took you out anyway.

Which would have been fine, if a certain Knight of Hell hadn’t been on the loose.

You’d wandered away from Dean in the parking lot—he was heading inside the store, but you turned off at the last moment, something catching your eye in the alleyway just outside. You didn’t know what it was, or why you turned; instinct, maybe. Nonetheless, you hadn’t taken two steps into the alley when you heard—

“Ah, yes. You’ll do nicely.”

—and you felt something smack the back of your head with a sickening crunch, bringing darkness to your vision and numbness to your bones, before you suddenly couldn’t feel anything at all.

…

Pain. After a time, it was all you remembered. You woke to it every day, and passed out from it every night. At least, that’s how you imagined it—you couldn’t tell the difference between night and day in the dank, gloomy stone tomb that you’d spent the last few…days? Weeks?—in. You didn’t know anymore. It didn’t matter anymore.

The slow scrape of stone on stone forewarned more pain as you sagged against the rusted chains that bit into your bloody-soaked wrists.

“Y/N?”

The sound of your name was jarring in a place where your identity never seemed to matter. You struggled to lift your head, seeing first the shadow of the stranger, then his shoes, all the way until you could make out the silhouette of a face.

“Y/N! Dean, I found her!”

The voice felt familiar, but in an indistinct way; like seeing someone who recognized you, but you couldn’t place their face.

Large hands on your face had all the breath leaving your lungs as you whimpered in fear.

“Hey, hey it’s ok. N/N it’s me, you’re ok.”

The name came to you as if from a nearly-forgotten dream.

“Sammy?”

“Yeah, it’s me.” Sam’s voice was gentle as he reached over and started to work at the locks holding your chains in place. You didn’t notice Dean approaching, but when your chains gave way and your knees buckled, Dean was there to catch you.

“It’s ok sweetheart. We’re gonna take you home.”

…

You’d been in your room for three days. Sam and Dean had been going in and trying to coax you out, but you hadn’t moved, spoken, or even had anything to eat. Dean had kept Jack out of your room completely, despite both Jack and Sam’s protests.

“Look, I know you don’t trust him, but he and Y/N…they’ve connected, Dean. She likes him, and she trusts him. He could help her.”

“What, you think he can do something we can’t?” Dean scoffed.

“Maybe,” Sam answered honestly. “But it can’t hurt to try.”

“Yes it cou-“

“No, no it couldn’t,” Sam stopped Dean before he could even finish. “Jack won’t hurt her, Dean. He just won’t. I know you hate it, but they care about each other, and you can’t stop that.”

Dean gritted his teeth, mulling over Sam’s words.

“Fine. But if it doesn’t work, then he stays away.”

Sam sighed.

“Deal.”

…

Sam grabbed Dean’s arm, stopping him before he could follow Jack into your room.

“Just give them a little space,” Sam whispered. Dean scowled, but stayed in the doorway.

“Y/N?” Jack’s voice was quiet, but you flinched anyway. “It’s ok, it’s me, it’s Jack.”

Your head lifted, only about an inch, and your eyes flicked up to Jack before you looked back down.

“I really missed you around here,” Jack continued, climbing up to sit next to you on your bed. Dean stiffened, but Sam held his arm to keep him from interrupting.

You stayed silent, but Jack was patient.

“Nothing was the same around here. I’m glad you’re back, I just…I wish you felt safe now, because you are. You’re safe here, I’m not going to let anyone hurt you ever again.” Jack’s hand inched towards yours, but Dean interrupted.

“Ok, you tried. Now come on.”

“Dean—“ Sam began, but Jack didn’t argue. He just stood slowly to his feet and started towards your door.

“Jack.”

Your voice stopped Jack in his tracks. He turned to look at you, and his worried brow relaxed when he saw your hand reaching out for his. He took two steps and was in front of you again, reaching forwards and grasping your hand in his.

“Hey Y/N.” Jack smiled. You returned his smile with a weak one of your own.

“Hi Jack.”

And Jack knew that it would all be ok.

Taglist:

@nyotamalfoy @mrvlxgrl @chocorade @aestheticdaisies @inlovewhithafairytale @that-wannabe-vangoghgurl

[jexnkookie]

BTS: In the Secret (Idol! Jungkook x Reader) [Chapter 5]

Summary: Big Hit announces a new season of In the Soop with a twist; one lucky Army is going to join the members for an entire summer of filming, picked by a random poll. You were selected, and ready to have an amazing summer. But what happens when you win something else that's a bit more complicated; the heart of the group's maknae?

Rating: M (18+)

Chapter Warnings: None.

Tag List: @cassies-cookies @hoeinthehouse @jjeonjjk7 @kaitieskidmore97 @laylasbunbunny @leetha43 @rrosiitas @whoa-jo @1-in-abillion 

While you were sleeping, Jungkook did what he did best when he needed to clear his head; he boxed. After slipping on his gloves and getting into position, he let it all out on a punching bag. Again, his thoughts settled on you; how you felt in his arms, how you gazed at his lips like he gazed at yours, giving him a glimmer of hope that just maybe you wanted to kiss him, too. He needed to get you alone again, and away from the cameras. 

It was something he had thought about while working out. All the cameras on the property were filming every move the members made. Of course, that’s what everyone signed up for. No surprise there. But that means everything will be up to view soon, and Jungkook didn’t know what would be aired, and what wouldn’t. Would their short-lived game of truth or dare, where you gave Taehyung a quick kiss, be seen by fans? Or your movie day together? What about him carrying you to bed? He hoped not, knowing how some fans react to just a dating rumor. He didn’t want you to be on the receiving end of one of those storms. Whatever heat he got, he could take it, and would take it, if it meant protecting you. 

So he continued thinking; how can he get you away from the other members, and away from the cameras, to have privacy with you? How can he keep this a secret, while still properly confessing? A grin came to his face as he hatched an idea, but he’d need a little time to think through the details. That wouldn’t be now, however, as you walked into the door of the gym. 

“Hey.” You greeted him with a wave. “I’m so sorry I fell asleep. That was so embarrassing, and I feel awful.” 

“Don’t, it’s ok.” He said, his voice going soft once again, as became a habit around you. “You were tired.” 

“And um…thank you, for bringing me to my bedroom.” You blushed, walking closer to him as he had paused his workout. “That was really sweet of you.” 

“Any time.” He smiled.

Figuring out where to move the conversation to, because you didn’t want to stop talking to him, you glanced to his boxing gloves. 

“Y’know, I’ve never boxed before.” You smiled. “It looks fun, though.” 

“I can show you.” He grinned, always ready to play. Jungkook began removing his gloves, before raising his sparkling eyes to yours. “Here, put these on. They’ll probably be too big but it’ll work for now.” 

Standing very close to you, he helped you put them on, as you had never done so before. You felt as though you couldn’t breathe, and like your heart had paused in your chest. How is it even possible for someone be that beautiful? He stood tall over you, and you wanted him to put his arms around you so badly. Little did you know, he wanted to, as well. He focused solely on your gloves, but being so close to you and feeling your eyes on him made him more nervous than he’d care to admit. He wanted to lean down just enough to kiss you, but he knew it wasn’t the right time. 

Not yet. Not in front of the cameras, and not on the property. 

He had an idea, and he wanted to stick to it. 

“Ok!” He smiled. “I’ll show you how to throw a punch, then you’ll hit me.” 

“I don’t wanna hurt you!” You laughed. 

“I really doubt you’re going to hurt me.” He teased, smirking at you. 

“We’ll see. I can be mean!” 

“I seriously doubt that.” Jungkook giggled. “Let’s get it, c’mon!” 

You threw punch after punch, while Jungkook blended teasing words with encouragement. He loved your competitiveness and playfulness, as it matched him so well. He thought to himself, as he was laughing with you, how easy it is just to be with you. Although you were a fan, that’s why you were selected, you treated him like a normal person. Someone to joke with, someone to just hang out with. He felt like he never had to try around you, and he appreciated that you didn’t seem to try hard to impress him, either. Everything just felt so natural. 

“Alright, Kookie, I’m taking you down this round.” You giggled through deep breaths, collecting yourself. 

“Yeah?” He grinned. “You’re confident?” 

“Mhm.” You hummed. “Watch.” 

With that, you went back in with a fierceness, making him smile and coo to himself, watching how you were trying so hard but still couldn’t even knock him back. Moving in closer to him, you both began laughing as it was clear that this was going nowhere for you. Jungkook “fought” back, moving forward towards you, making you back up despite your cute complaints. (“No fair, you’re bigger! I’m punching above my weight!”) Without paying too much attention, caught up in the fun you were having together, you were backed against the wall, trapped by Jungkook. 

“Fine! You win!” You laugh, throwing your head back to the wall. 

Jungkook was somehow even closer than he was before, with your body resting against the wall. While you both caught your breath, grinning over your silliness, Jungkook’s hand instinctively came up to brush strands of hair away from your face as your eyes were gazing into his. 

You stared at each other for what felt like hours, just enjoying being close. The moment felt fragile, as though if either person moved too quickly, it would shatter. 

“Hi.” He whispered, breaking the silence. 

“Hi.” 

“I…” Jungkook started without really understanding what it was he needed to say. “That was fun.” 

“Yeah.” You smiled warmly, biting your lip nervously before adding, “I like hanging out with you.” 

“Yeah?” He grinned. “I like hanging out with you, too.”  

And just like that, it was present again; another fragile moment. Eyes glued to each other, butterflies in his stomach, and a racing heart in your chest. Words that you both weren’t quite sure how to say, or if you should say them, lingering in the air, making the room feel heavy. The  attraction was immediate, but now the spark is glowing, as well. It was something you both knew, but didn’t understand how to approach it. 

“I, uh, think we may need a shower.” Jungkook said softly. “Before Yoongi-hyung finishes dinner.” 

“You’re probably right.” You smiled, sighing internally that the moment couldn’t last. 

“You go first. I’ll clean up here, and meet you later, ok?” 

“Ok.” You replied. You looked over his features one more time before leaving for your guesthouse. 

Jungkook was grinning uncontrollably, feeling electric from the interaction. He knew he couldn’t mess this up with you, but he needed to tell you how he felt. There was something between you two that was almost magnetic, drawing him to you in ways that felt unreal. He understood he needed to act, but it needed to be private and personal, and just right. 

He quickly reached for his phone, and looked for the answer to one question; 

How long until a lake clears after a flood? 

A week passed, and it seemed to fly by. You had discussed your favorite records with Yoongi, painted a bit with Taehyung, beaten Jin at Mario Kart (much to his dismay), and gossiped over drinks with Jimin. The latter of which you increasingly became closer with, thanking multiple glasses of wine and late night conversations for that. 

“Are you single?” Jimin asked. It was 4 a.m., and the cameras were turned off for the night, allowing you to speak more freely. 

“I am.” You responded. “Honestly, I wouldn’t have come if I wasn’t. Spending a summer with 7 men alone… I don’t think a boyfriend would appreciate that, you know? What about you?” 

“That’s true… And, me too.” He said. “The last one, I don’t know… we just didn’t work out.” 

“I’m sorry to hear that.” 

“It’s ok. It’s in the past now.” Jimin smiled kindly. “Can I ask about you?” 

“My last boyfriend?” You rolled your eyes at the memory. “I broke up with him. We just never had any fun together, you know? It grew stale very quickly, like we were stuck in this routine, and he took himself too seriously to try anything new.” 

“He doesn’t sound like your type.”

“Yeah?” You grinned at his response, pouring more wine. “What do you think my type is?” 

“I think you like someone you can have fun with.” He stated, leaning back into the couch, a mischievous look gracing his features as if holding in a secret. “I think you’d like someone who can make you laugh and who will play with you, but he can also be sensitive and take care of you.” 

“You almost sound like you have someone in mind for me.” You giggled. 

“Not really.” Jimin smiled, looking down at his glass. “Just guessing.” 

At the end of the week, Jungkook had come to your bedroom door, knocking to wake you. It was late; late enough where the cameras were turned off and the other members were sleeping. You furrowed your brow wondering who would be coming to get you at this time, and why. 

“Jungkook?” You whispered. “What are you doing?” 

“Y/N, I have a surprise for you,” He whispers, his eyes somehow dazzling in the dark. “Should you choose to accept it.” 

“You make it sound like a video game side quest, Kookie.” You giggle. “I accept. What is it?” 

“Put on some shoes, and come with me.” He responded with a boyish grin. “I have something to show you.” 

You did as you were told, and Jungkook led you though the dark to the ATV on the property. Attached to it, somehow, was a bottle from Yoongi’s whiskey stash and a blanket. You were suddenly thankful for the cover of the night, because you could feel your cheeks blushing as you gathered what he could be up to. 

“Get on, and hold on tight to me, ok?” He explained. “I found something I think you’ll like.” 

After getting onto the back of the ATV, you got comfortable and hugged him tightly from the back. Jungkook smiled at the feeling of your arms, and he hoped it was the first of many times he’d feel you wrapped around him. He took off, checking to make sure the members and the staff weren’t paying attention, and took you down the road. The drive was short, and you wondered what Jungkook could’ve possibly found, as you were in the woods. 

But as he drove up to what seemed to be a perfect, private oasis, your eyes grew wide. Tucked in a cleared spot, there was a lake with the moonlight reflecting off the cool water. It was peaceful and serene, with only the occasional sound of crickets breaking the silence. 

“It’s the lake that the staff members mentioned may flood.” Jungkook explained as he helped you off the ATV. “I wanted to bring you here for a few days, but it needed to clear first.” 

“This is so pretty.” You said.  

“Come on, let’s go sit down.” He said, carrying the blanket and the wine. 

“I feel like a teenager.” You laughed as Jungkook spread the blanket on the ground. “Sneaking out of the house late with a boy, stealing alcohol from the kitchen.” 

“We’re rebels.” Jungkook laughed. You sat next to him, and he popped open the bottle of wine. “Meaning we drink from the bottle, too…and totally not because I forgot to grab glasses.” 

“I love this.” You giggled. “Thank you for bringing me out here. This is nice.” 

“Anytime.” He replied softly. “I’ve been thinking… this could be our place, y’know? If we need to get away from the cameras, from the set, we can just come here.” 

“That sounds amazing.” You said. Jungkook looked over at you, admiring your features and how they glowed in the moonlight. “Oh, look! We can see stars so clearly here.” You laid down on the blanket, and Jungkook followed. 

“I can see… the moon.” Jungkook joked, making you laugh. “I don’t know much about stars.” 

“Tell me your zodiac, and I’ll show you where it is.” You smiled. 

You began pointing out to Jungkook where his corner of the sky was, and where yours was alongside it. While you spoke about stars, Jungkook had some of his own in his eyes, hanging on every word you said. The atmosphere of the lake, the red wine buzz you both felt, and your sweet voice right next to him made him so, unbelievably happy. You spoke about his corner of the sky, but he felt like this little place he found was meant for both of you. Your little corner of the world. 

“Hey.” He whispered, cutting you off softly. 

“Hey.” You whispered back. 

“I…” A brief pause, but unlike that day in the gym, he knew what he needed to say. “I just want to tell you, that I meant what I said. The day I met you, I said you were so pretty. It’s true… I think you’re beautiful.” 

“T-Thank you.” You stuttered, blushing profusely at his gaze and attention.  

“Can…Can I ask you something?”

“Of course.” 

“The day we were watching a movie, and the day we were boxing… I felt something.” Jungkook explained nervously. “I felt a.. I don’t know, a spark or something, if that makes sense. Did you… Do you…” 

“Yeah.” You smiled warmly. “Yeah, I feel it, too.” 

Once again, a fragile moment appearing. The warm, summer air feels heavy once again, and a rush of vulnerability passes through. The quiet part weighs on you both now that it’s been said out loud; he feels something for you, and you feel it to. Not love, not yet. Not enough to dive in head first. But enough to be a promise of something, or the hope of an exciting possibility. 

“Can I kiss you?” Jungkook asked, gazing down at your lips. You nodded your consent, and he slowly brought his hands to your waist, pulling you in closer to cuddle with him on the blanket. He brushed a strand of hair out of your face, just as he had done back at the main house, but the action felt different this time. More real, knowing its intention. 

He smiled, as did you, at the tension of the moment. 

Then, he leans in, eyes closed. You closed yours as well, anticipating the touch. He lingers nearby, nerves taking over, but Jungkook wouldn’t miss his chance. His lips grazed yours, before connecting fully. Your hands came up to touch his chest softly, encouraging him to go just a bit further. So he did, deepening the kiss and savoring how your lips locked with his for the first time. 

After spending some time together, feeling high off of whatever this connection was, you both knew you needed to get back before the members and staff realized you were missing. Jungkook packed up and drove you back, but noticing the time and knowing the cameras hadn’t turned back on quite yet, he took your hand in his to walk you back to your bedroom. 

“Please get some rest, ok?” He whispered, leaning in close again, not able to get enough. “I’m sorry I kept you out so late.” 

“It’s ok.” You smiled, reaching up to wrap your arms around his shoulders. 

“Y/N, listen.” He whispered, his tone more serious as he placed his hands on your hips. “I don’t want either of us to feel pressured by anyone about this… about us. I don’t want anyone jumping to their own conclusions about us before we even know for sure what we are. I just want us to spend time together, y’know? So when the cameras are on, and the members are around, let’s keep it between us.” 

“Ok.” You said, your voice a bit sad. 

“Hey, Y/N, c’mon.” Jungkook cooed, pulling you in close to hold you. “Trust me, I want everyone to know about this, but just not yet. I’m not hiding you, I’m protecting you. I promise. Please, just trust me.” 

He looked down at you, giving you a soft, slow kiss and feeling relieved when he felt your smile. 

“Goodnight.” You whispered, before turning towards the door. 

“Goodnight.” He replied. Jungkook struggled to let you go, wanting to hold you in his arms longer, now that he actually has you. 

You reached for his sweatshirt that night, wearing it to bed like you had done so many nights before. But somehow, it felt softer than ever. 

Next Chapter Coming Soon...Thank you! x

[naturesapphic]

Can you please do caregiver billie with little reader being clingy and wanting her to sing lovely ( that's my favorite one for the music)

“Isn’t it lovely?”

Caregiver!billie eilish x little!fem!reader

Warnings: age regression and fluff :)

It was your nap time and you didn’t want it today. Usually you absolutely loved your naps, even out of your headspace, but today you didn’t want to go to sleep. Which confused Billie a lot along with you being extra clingy today. She didn’t know the reason why you have been acting different but hopefully she’ll get to the bottom of it.

“Come on babygirl. What’s the matter?” She asked you softly as she bends down to your eye level. “Nu wan nap!” You pouted and crossed your arms angrily. She chuckled and caressed your face gently with her ring covered fingers. “I know that baby but why?” She asked once again. You dropped your gaze and got embarrassed. “I Nu wan chu to weave agains…”you mumbled out as your eyes got teary. “What do you mea- oh…I get it.” Billie replied as she remembered yesterday when she put you down for a nap and a few minutes later was called by her brother to go do a quick interview, so she called one of her friends to look after you.

When you woke up and found Billie wasn’t there with you you started crying. Her friend got you to calm down enough to go back to sleep and when Billie got home, her friend told her what had happened. You are scared that when you go to sleep that she won’t be there when you wake up. “Babygirl I’m sorry I wasn’t there when you woke up, mommy got busy but I promise you when you wake up after your nap, I’ll be right there with you okay? Cmon…I’ll lay down and sing to you precious girl.” She said softly and picked you up in her arms and carried you to y’all’s shared bedroom where she laid you in the bed and got in beside you.

“What do you want mommy to sing sweet girl?” She asked softly, her voice as sooth as honey. “Lovely Pweasie…” you yawned out as you laid your head on her pillow like breast. She smiled and ran her fingers through your hair as she starts to hum the melody and starts to sing.

“Thought I found a way, Thought I found a way out.

But you never go away

So I guess I gotta stay now

Oh, I hope some day I'll make it out of here

Even if it takes all night or a hundred years

Need a place to hide, but I can't find one near

Wanna feel alive, outside I can't fight my fear

Isn't it lovely, all alone?

Heart made of glass, my mind of stone

Tear me to pieces, skin to bone

Hello, welcome home

Walkin' out of time

Lookin' for a better place, Something's on my mind

Always in my head space

But I know some day I'll make it out of here

Even if it takes all night or a hundred years

Need a place to hide, but I can't find one near

Wanna feel alive, outside I can't fight my fear

Isn't it lovely, all alone?

Heart made of glass, my mind of stone

Tear me to pieces, skin to bone

Hello, welcome home

Whoa, yeah

Yeah, ah, Whoa, whoa

Hello, welcome home”. She stopped singing and looked down to see you deep into slumber. She smiled big and leaned down near your ear “sleep tight my sweet girl. I love you.” She whispered in your ear with her low voice and kissed your ear softly before falling asleep herself.

A/n: thank you for the request anon! I hope you and the rest of y’all enjoyed it! Remember to stay hydrated and to rest! I love y’all.

[woso-dreamzzz]

Outburst II

Leah Williamson x Jordan Nobbs x Child!Reader

Summary: You say a bad word

"Whoa, whoa," Leah says helplessly as your screaming body is placed into her arms," What-? Jordan, what's going on?"

Jordan sighs as she gently wipes the tears from your red face. "She's a little sad today-"

"Mummy!" You whine, reaching for her. You try to flop back out of Leah's arms to get to her and it's only because of Leah's quick readjustment that you don't go falling to the floor. "Mummy, no!"

"I'm sorry, bug," Jordan says and, to her credit, she does look incredibly apologetic," But you know it's Mum's turn to have you this week."

You just sob harder.

"No," You cry," Mummy, no! Please!"

"I'm sorry, bug," Jordan repeats, crowding close enough to give you a tight hug in the hope of calming you down," But you know that it's Mum's week now. You were so excited to get your minutes in a few days ago."

You just keep crying though, trying to claw your way out of Leah's arms and cling to Jordan.

"Go, Jordan," Leah says with a sigh," I'll take her inside. I'll calm her down."

Jordan looks torn but nods. "She didn't want to leave Blu. I took him to the vets last night for a checkup. He stayed over there so she hasn't seen him since. She's been a little bit sad."

"A little bit?" Leah scoffs as you wail right in her ear before hitting her shoulder. "Hey, no, bug. What have I said about hitting? It's rude."

You hit her again.

"Bug," She says in warning.

"Hey," Jordan says softly," As soon as I get back, I'll pick up Blu and send your Mum a picture but you've got to stop crying, okay?"

You sniffle. "Promise?"

"I promise."

You nod and angrily wipe away your tears. Your bottom lip still trembles but you relax in Leah's arms, head on her shoulder as your hand reaches out to play with the necklace she's wearing.

Leah hopes that you'll be happier now that Jordan's promised pictures of Blu but you're still a little sad and depressed during bath time and bedtime.

You didn't even enjoy your bedtime story like you usually do and it carries on the next day when you don't cross the day off on the calendar.

You're usually so excited to cross a day off because it means you're closer to match day and match day means you get your minutes in at the very end.

Leah doesn't know what else to do. She's shown you the picture of Blu Jordan sent. She put you in your comfy clothes and your favourite Arsenal jersey but you still remain sad.

Very briefly, Leah considers going to the shelter and getting you a puppy but realises that she's got training and there's not enough hours in the day to do both so she picks you up and gets you into the car.

Leah's pretty sure it unnerves everyone how quiet you are. Even the newer signings like Fox and Codi seem to notice something's wrong.

Katie's the one who makes the first move.

You're sitting in Leah's cubby, just swinging your legs aimlessly when Katie pokes you in the cheek.

The disgruntled look on your face is funny so she pokes you again.

"Come on," She cajoles," What's wrong? I don't get a hug this morning?"

"No."

"Why not? I might die without my hugs, you know."

You give her a blank stare. "Then die."

"Bug!" Leah snaps sharply and you duck your head sheepishly.

"Sorry, Mum. Sorry, Katie."

Leah turns back to what she's doing and Katie pokes you again.

"Stop it!" You snap but Katie does it again," Fuck off, Katie!"

Someone gasps, probably Alessia, but all you're focussed on is your Mum. Leah whips around to face you. She looks angry, looking down at you with pursed lips.

"That's a bad word, bug!" She tells you," It's a naughty word! Who taught it to you?"

You shrug.

"Bug, you've already been naughty today. Don't lie to me. Who taught it to you?"

You feel the urge to cry again, your throat going all tight and closed up and you know pretending you don't know what Mum is talking about will get you in a lot of trouble.

You mumble your response.

"Speak louder, bug," Leah says," So I can hear you."

"Rachel said it to Mummy a few days ago when they were wrestling," You reply," Didn't know it was a bad word! It got Mummy to stop!"

Leah sighs, running a hand over her mouth as she looks at you. The rest of the locker room has gone silent, just watching how she's going to tackle this situation.

"Some words," Leah says," Are naughty words. That's one of them. I don't want to hear you say it again, bug."

You frown. "Rachel said it."

"Rachel's an adult."

"And adults say bad words?"

"Only when they're being naughty." Leah really doesn't want to be having a conversation like this but she has to admit that thinking it through has perked you up a little bit.

"Adults get in trouble for saying bad words too?" You check and Leah nods. You point right at Beth. "She said fuck last week."

"Bug, stop repeating it!"

"And so did Emily and Lessi. Lessi taught it to Vic, who taught it to Codi. Everyone says it, Mum!"

"Well-" Leah looks around.

"And they didn't get in trouble!"

"They're getting in trouble now!" Leah declares," We'll make a swear jar. If you swear, you put money in the jar. Is that good enough for you, bug?"

You think for a moment, looking around the room where Kyra is giggling. "Kyra called the plug a motherfucker when she stepped on it last week."

"That was meant to be a secret!" Kyra exclaims.

"Alright." Leah massages her temples. "From now on, this is a no swear zone. If you swear then you put money in the jar."

"Hey, come on!" Katie complains," Sort your kid's potty mouth out at home! Don't make all of us suffer through this shite."

"That's a quid in the swear jar, McCabe," Leah says, turning and picking you up," And no Bug Hugs for a week."

"No, Bug Hugs?!" Katie shrieks," I'll die without them."

Leah winks at you. "Then die."

[goldfades]

manager literally having to handle every single thing and js bein emotionally exhausted, one day she’s just completely overstimulated from everything and walks out to let herself cry

i love angst sorry🤘

𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋 ─ UCONN WBB MANAGER

౨ৎ ─ summary | after a shitty week, manager breaks down over a stupid test score and her teammate helps her through it.

─ word count | 919

─ warnings | NIKA AND MANAGER BONDING TIME YIPEE! angsty af, hurt to comfort, manager putting too much pressure on herself, midterms (BLEHHH), pretty sure nothin else?

─ taglist | @xocherishxo @iienstein @yazmunson @euphternal @uraesthete @hello-nah817 @wanderlusturous and here's a link to my taglist if anyone would like to join!!

YOUR ENTIRE WEEK had been shit, to put it simply.

Scratch that, your entire month had been pretty shitty. Your midterms had gone terrible, your headaches have been becoming way more painful and more frequent and on top of all of that, you bled through your pants. Twice.

With play-off season arriving in about couple weeks, practices had been running later and later. You spent the entire practice usually on the phone, trying to figure out routes to away games, trying to coordinate transportation for the team, and dealing with the last-minute changes and complications that seemed to plague every plan you made.

As the playoff season even nearer, the pressure mounted to new heights. Every decision felt like it carried the weight of the world, and the fear of letting down your team gnawed at your insides.

Geno had told you that you could leave early if you absolutely needed to, but you hated feeling useless. You wanted to be able to do your job without letting your own personal issues get in the way but right now, it felt like you were way in over your head. Despite Geno's offer to leave early, the guilt gnawed at you, whispering that you were failing in your duties as a manager.

As today's practice wore on, your headache intensified, pulsing behind your eyes with an intensity that threatened to consume you. You clenched your jaw against the pain, willing yourself to push through, but with each passing moment, it felt like the weight on your shoulders grew heavier.

Your phone buzzed against your thigh and you picked it up, reading the notification. Your heart had dropped to your stomach as you read the email ─ you had failed your Geo midterm.

You threw your phone against the hardwood floors, feeling your eyesight become blurry. That was cherry on top, that was the final straw. Tears stung at the corners of your eyes as you struggled to regain control of your emotions. You got up from the bench, picking up your phone as you sniffled.

"Whoa, Y/N? Are you good?" You turned to meet Nika's eyes as yours widened in shock. You immediately wiped your tears as you averted your gaze.

Nika was thankfully the only person on the court right now, everyone else was in the locker-room getting ready for practice. Nika finished up early, like she usually did.

You sniffled again. "Yeah, I'm fine."

"You're not, tell me what's bothering you. Who was it? Was it Paige or Geno, because I swear-"

"No, no." You sighed loudly as Nika's expression softened. "Just allergies. I need to go get something from my dorm, I won't be long."

Nika scoffed as she watched you walk away, her eyes narrowing with concern despite your attempt to brush off the situation.

"Allergies, my ass," she muttered under her breath, though she knew better than to push you further when you were clearly not ready to talk.

You went to your dorm and cried your eyes out, that was the only thing you felt like you could do. You almost debated whether or not you should go back to practice until you remembered that you left all your stuff there.

As you got up to the door, you heard a knock on your door. Your furrowed your eyebrows in confusion as you opened the door, revealing Nika. She held your bag in one hand and hers in the other, a warm smile on her lips.

You opened the door wider so that she could come in. Without a word, she set down both her bag and yours as you closed the door behind her.

"Practice ended early so you didn't miss anything," Nika spoke as she gave you a smile. She sat down on your bed as she gestured for you to come and sit.

"Thanks for bringing my bag," you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper as you struggled to find the right words to express the depth of your gratitude.

Nika waved off your thanks with a casual shrug, her gaze reassuring. "No problem. I figured you could use a break from everything."

Then, with a small sigh, Nika reached out and took your hand in hers, her touch a comforting. "One test doesn't define your entire career, Y/N. I promise you, it will not matter after you graduate. It probably won't even matter in a month, or maybe even a week."

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, Nika had completely read you like a damn book. "How did you know?"

Nika just scoffed, "You think we don't listen when you ramble on about your tests and shit? We do, and trust me we know you better than you think."

A soft chuckle escaped your lips at her blunt honesty, the tension that had coiled tight in your chest slowly starting to unravel. It was true ─ Nika and the rest of the team had always been there to listen, even when you thought no one was paying attention.

"Look, Y/N." Nika kept her gaze on you, her expression serious. "We love you and we need you, but don't ever put us over your mental health. We need you all in one piece if you're gonna take care of us, right?"

"So, for us. Take the weekend off and come back on Monday, alright?" Before you could protest, Nika sent you a stern look and you sighed loudly. Nika's expression dissipated into a warmer one as she smiled, "That's our girl."

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