#/hii thank you for the ask I hope this works!

[aerospectrum]

@janekillow asked: "I need to get clean. Now!” ( for Dean Winchester with her scrubbing through blood off her hands after killing a possess human. ) unprompted asks : : OPEN

Dean glanced at the blood on the floor then to the blood that coated the sink and faucet; watered down across the countertops. Finally his eyes landed on Jane’s hands, just watching her scrub incessantly at the red stain. He wasn’t exactly a stranger to the game; he recognized the desperation in needing to cleanse oneself from killing someone he thought could be saved. But it was different to be the one witnessing the act.

“You’ve gotta slow down; just try to breathe alright?” He said softly, cautiously approaching her side. “The harder you scrub the harder it is to get it off, trust me on this one.” He reached out to still her hands and with the other he turns the faucet towards warm. “What happened back there Jane? We could’ve saved them, I had it under control.”

[totalswag]

hii, I’m not sure if you take request still but if so is there a possible way you can do a drew x singer!reader one shot take on how Sabrina “arrests” her fans before performing Juno for being too hot but the reader does it to Drew during her shows please 🫶🏼

arrested for being too hot — DREW STARKEY

authors note THANK YOU FOR REQUESTING THIS!! my request box is still open so feel free to send me any ideas regarding singer!reader or regular fic ideas you’d like me to write. this was so much writing too. thank for all the love on my last fic lovies <3

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summary "arresting" drew, your boyfriend, during your show before performing your song from your new album.

warning(s) none!

You are on tour for your new album in-front of thousands of fans almost every night. You worked hard on this album and it turned out wonderfully. If it weren’t for the amazing fans of yours, you don’t know where you’d be in your career— they are the reason you are doing this.

Half way into the show— going amazing. The crowd tonight isn't disappointing you. Everything you've hoped for on this tour. You've performed eighteen songs and about to go onto your nineteenth. Played musical spin the bottle not long ago which was really fun.

Before Juno, you begin with a small "skit" where you call someone out in the crowd, arresting them for being too hot. This became a thing after your first show of the tour and doing it ever since. Plus, fans absolutely love it. Interacting with your fans has always been something you did and create those bonds.

Drew, your boyfriend, is attending the show with Madelyn Cline, a mutual friend and cast-mate of Drew's. You told him earlier today you wanted to arrest him in the middle of the show to get the audience excited and it would be fun.

Drew was all for it, and he didn't want you to tell him what you were going to say—he prefers surprises.

Your pink, glittering, dazzling clothing was sparkling in the lights. You pressed your free hand to your brow as though you were looking around for a call. With security, you could see Drew and Madelyn making their way to the front.

You begin by adjusting your earpiece while moving around the stage in your long skirt. "You guys know that moment when you are in a room filled with such beautiful looking people that you start to feel overwhelmed?" When fans applaud, you smile.

"Oh, girls, I think I just seen my future husband in the front row! Oh my god, girls, come here, come here," you say anxiously into the microphone, beckoning them over and waving your free hand.

You turn to face Drew as the girls approach you, asking, "Do you see that gorgeous looking man over in the front row with his arms crossed in the tan shirt?" You speak into the microphone aloud, pointing to Drew in the crowd.

Your girls joyfully waved at Drew while placing their hands on your shoulder. As Drew blushes on the big screen, the crowd reflexively turns up the volume in the arena. 

"What's your name handsome?" With your head cocked slightly to the right toward your shoulder, you inquire in jest. 

"Drew!" You can hear him when he places his hands on the side of his lips. He gives you a childlike smile and a flushed face.

You say, "I'm sorry I couldn't get that?" as though you couldn't hear him. Leaning forward more, you place your free hand behind your ear.

He shakes his head and utters "Drew!" a little louder. 

"Oh my Drew, I must say that you must be a magnet because you drew me in" brings a smile to your face. Your tone indicated that you were trying quite hard not to laugh, yet you kept your calm brilliantly.

Fans had their phones out, capturing the entire interaction. Nobody would have expected Drew to be the person arrested at your gigs since the tour began.

"Drew, you are under arrest for being too hot," you say aloud, smiling and pointing at him— fanning yourself, moving your hips side to side as the sound of sirens going off with blue and red lights behind.

You put your left elbow against your girls shoulder, "guys do you ever just see someone so good looking that you just don't know what to do and all your clothes fall off in that moment" your long skirt slips off smoothy.

"Like your brain just like malfunctions and like I just wanna handcuffed to you now like," one of your girls puts the pink fluffy handcuffs into your hand, you kneel down, "do you know what I mean? Will you take these from me?"

Drew is overwhelmed in this very moment— it's very obvious how much you are affecting him. Drew gives you a gimme me gesture with his fingers, ready to catch the hand cuffs.

He takes them in his hands, looks down, and feels the smooth texture of the fuzzy. He tilts his head to the side before slowly glancing up at you with a smirk—keep in mind that he's still on the big screen.

"We're gonna sing this one to you, Drew."

Juno's song intro starts playing. You wave goodbye to Drew and Madelyn as you return to the center of the stage. You could hear the two begin speaking to fans in the distance.

Drew and Madelyn met you in the dressing room following the show. After giving Madelyn a hug and thanking her for attending the event, you moved to approach Drew and put your arms around his neck while grinning.

"That was insane," Madelyn exclaimed, pulling you into a hug. "What about the full call-out and the handcuffs? Iconic! "You're the talk of the night; everyone is crazy about it."

You giggled as your face heated up. "It seemed right." "You should have seen his face!"

She laughs, "I got the whole thing on video, I'll send it to you later."

"I'm going to give you two some alone time, but you did such an amazing job tonight and looked so hot doing it," Madelyn adds, taking your hands in her and wiggling her brows. 

"Thank you, babe. I love you always," you say, hugging her before she leaves you and Drew alone. 

When you close the door, Drew comes behind you, placing his arms around your waist and kissing you on the cheek, making you laugh with the tenderness of his lips.

"I'm so proud of you baby, you did such an amazing job on stage and looked unbelievable in your outfits made me feel like the luckiest guy in the entire world." He expresses emotionally, which uplifts you. 

"Coming from you, it warms my heart baby. Forever grateful to have you in my life," you smile softly, leaning against his chest, feeling that sense of warmth you always feel whenever you are with him.

"And I'm forever grateful for you" he quietly responds, kissing the top of your head.

"So what are we gonna do with those pink fuzzy handcuffs?"

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[taeyongdoyoung]

wolf and bunny

summary: you ask your best friend to fuck you in your sleep but your bottled up feelings come out to the surface... pairing: chan x reader genre: smut, best friends to lovers warnings: cnc/somnophilia, discussion of boundaries, eating out, touching, groping, unprotected sex, spanking, stranger+wolf/bunny roleplay, little red riding hood references, face-slapping (once), size kink, cockwarming, multiple rounds, feelings (ew), pet names, discussion of future scenario 👀 (i know i said this is the end but...we'll see) author's note: hii everyone, this is the third and final part of my wolf and bunny series, thank you so much for going on this nasty journey with me 🤍 part one & part two word count: 2k

You and Chan are having a bit of a disagreement in connection with the circumstances surrounding your next game.

“But I want to know exactly which night you’ll do it.”

“If you know, you won’t be able to fall asleep,” Chan reasons with you. “Kinda like Santa Claus. Kids stay up all night waiting for him and then he never comes.”

“Please, even if the kids were asleep, he’d still never come ‘cause the parents are putting the presents under the tree!”

“It was just a metaphor.”

“A bad one. You’re gonna have to work harder to convince me.”

“Hey, wasn’t this your idea in the first place?” Chan reminds you teasingly. “You’re the one who wants me to fuck her in her sleep.”

“Ey, don’t pretend you won’t be into it,” you shake your head.

You are both so stubborn you don’t see this ending unless one of you retreats. Then, after a brief consideration, you speak again.

“Fine. You can keep the secret of the exact night you’ll do this. On one condition.”

“Sure, bunny, let’s hear it,” Chan listens eagerly.

“If I wake up, you won’t stop. I’ll just pretend I’m still sleepy and we keep going.”

“Is that even possible? I mean, for you to not wake up?”

“It is if you drug me or something,” you shrug.

“Ugh, don’t give me such evil ideas. You never know when I might take advantage of you.”

“Oh, I’m counting on it, wolfie.”

“But are you sure the sleep thing is a great idea? I mean, you wouldn't be able to say a safeword...” Chan can't help but worry, always putting your needs first and planning every scenario in great detail to make sure you're alright. Damnit, could he get any more perfect? He's so sweet and considerate you wish you could just tell him how you feel. But what if that scares him away? What if you lose not only your wicked game buddy but your best friend in the entire world? You wouldn't be able to live with yourself.

“Yes, I'm positive, Chris,” you place your hand on top of his. “I trust you 100% and know that you'll look after me. The question is, do you trust my judgement?”

“I mean, I do trust you. It's just that last time you didn't communicate your discomfort clearly and I wouldn't want to risk messing up to the point of accidentally hurting you,” Chan verbalizes his anxieties.

“I get what you're saying but it's not like I'm open to doing this with a stranger. It's you we're talking about. You've always been great at taking care of people so I know you wouldn't go too far. But at the same time, I wouldn't mind if you went loose. If anyone can take it and accept you fully, it would be me.”

“Yeah, I know. You're right. But just in case, I want you to know beforehand that I care about you and respect you like a lot. So, even if I get carried away, I still want you to feel safe.”

“Aww, Chris, ya old softie! I always feel safe with you, it goes without saying!” you insist.

“Well, I like hearing you say it.”

You gulp nervously. His voice is so commanding and yet so reassuring that your words have never rung truer. He's more to you than a safety net and you hope he knows it. He's incredibly thoughtful and infinitely kinder than the first impression. He's a riddle in the way he keeps surprising you and yet you wanna keep learning more about him. He's hundreds of the loveliest words in the dictionary multiplied. He's more comforting than your favourite blanket. He's warmth personified and you would be an idiot to let him go.

“I'll try to say it more often, then,” you promise. “When I'm with you, I know no harm will come my way. But here's the thing...you're the only one I'd willingly let hurt me.”

“I don't want to hurt you, though.”

“You don't?” you pout, suddenly feeling guilty. Then, what have you been doing? Was he forcing himself to act out these fantasies for your sake alone? You genuinely thought he was enjoying them as much as you were.

“Sorry, that came out wrong,” Chan is quick to explain. “I like our games. I meant that I don't want to hurt you emotionally. Ever.”

“Ah, yeah, that makes sense,” you chuckle, feeling a little stupid. “Well, you don't need to worry about that. Glad we had this talk.”

“Me too,” Chan gazes at you fondly.

“So, which night are you fucking me while I'm asleep?” you attempt to find out while he has this dazed look in his eye.

“Next- Hey, nice try! I'm not telling you, you impatient devil.”

“Aw, man, I was so close,” you bemoan the uncertainty of your future.

“You wish.”

The long-awaited night finally arrives. Chan has a key to your place so entering it is too easy. He makes sure he picks a night when you’ve complained about being exhausted and sleepy all day long. And he is certain that you’re passed out in your room, not suspecting a thing. Well, a part of you is always anticipating what could happen, but still.

He’s beyond glad to find you sound asleep. You’re wearing nothing but a t-shirt and some flimsy panties. Chan admires your sleeping form for a couple of brief moments before he gets down to business.

He wonders where to start. Should he tear them up? Or maybe push them to the side? Should he grope your boobs through your shirt? Or perhaps slide his hands beneath it, stroking your nipples directly? So many opportunities. He wants to do everything, he decides.

Chan starts by moving your panties to the side and licking your tiny pussy. He touches you with his fingers, gently prodding your entrance but not exactly sticking them inside yet. Then, he sneaks his hand underneath your shirt, teasing your nipples. Fuck, you’re so soft.

He marvels at the knowledge that you’d trust him with something like that. Though the previous scenarios were hot and intense as fuck, this one hits different for him. Maybe because last time you were awake, you were still in control because you could say the safeword whenever. Maybe because you want him at your most vulnerable even in your sleep. Or maybe because he’s slowly falling for you, but he doesn’t know how to say it.

It’s okay. Chan’ll show you, instead. He pinches your nipples lightly and continues to make out with your pussy. You are so wet already it’s adorable. He wonders if you’re dreaming of him, as you shift slightly in your sleep. He wants to drag this out. But how?

He uses his nails to trace circles on your skin, which causes goosebumps to appear. Are you cold? He wants to keep you warm and full at all times. Chan can’t take it any longer and takes his cock out, sliding in so perfectly. As if you were made for him. Made to take his cock and let him do crazy things to you. His sweet little bunny…

You moan desperately and the spell is broken. You’re awake. He wanders if you’ll speak or he’ll have to make you. Both options sound quite appealing. But he wants to hear your voice more than anything.

“Shhh, go back to sleep, sweetheart,” Chan whispers gently.

“W-who are you?” you cry out.

Aw, you’re gonna pretend not to know him? That hurts. But it can be fun, he thinks.

“Just the big bad wolf,” he chuckles at the irony of it.

“Please, don't do this,” you fake not wanting it, even though you've never wanted anything so badly in your life.

“Oh, bunny, but I already am,” Chan replies, spanking your ass a couple of times in the meantime.

“G-gonna split me in h-half,” you mumble, voice muffled against your pillow.

“Yeah? G'na ruin my sweet girl?” he speaks to you so softly you want to melt right there and then.

“Feel so full 'n so s'eepy,” you slur helplessly.

“Aw, tiny, go back to sleep, then,” Chan pats your head soothingly.

“Can't. What a deep voice you have!” you play along too well.

“All the better to degrade you with, my slutty bun,” Chan laughs, while still continuing to fuck you.

“What big hands you have!” you keep saying.

“All the better to grab your tits with,” Chan chuckles and makes good on his promise by playing with your boobs.

“And slap me with!” you remind him playfully.

“As you wish, princess,” Chan growls and slaps you across the face harshly but not harsh enough to actually leave a mark.

“What big eyes you have,” you sigh wistfully.

“All the better to stare at you fall apart,” Chan responds cleverly.

“And what big cock you have!” you scream, barely resisting the urge to laugh. Are you a silly little bunny or Little Red Riding Hood? At this point, you don't care, but it feels too good regardless.

“All the better to fuck you with,” he grunts loudly, spilling inside of you.

You follow rightaway and urge him to stay like this for a while. Maybe round two is in order?

“You know what else is big?” Chan teases you.

“Oh, shut up, Bigfoot!” you reply and are no longer able to hold it in, breaking into laughter. Chan also finds the interaction hilarious and buries his head in the nook of your shoulder. You stroke his hair without realizing. Shit, he's so adorable you almost say the three words. Is it too risky? Too soon? You need a distraction. You need... “Fuck me again.”

“Already? Aren't you tired?” Chan wants to make sure.

“Fuck me till I fall asleep again,” you ask him.

“Um, okay, sure,” Chan looks a bit confused but does as you ask.

This time there is less talking and more fucking but no matter how many rounds you go, sleep doesn't come again. You both orgasm more times than you could count, but somehow, it isn't nearly enough to distract you from the inevitable. You love him. Your heart knows it, your pussy knows it, even your brain knows it but is stubborny telling you not to confess for fear of somehow ruining things.

Once Chan decides he's completely spent for the night, he pulls out of you and rips off the bandaid.

“Are you alright? Something suddenly shifted but I can't quite place it,” he tucks a piece of hair behind your ear and nudges you softly with his shoulder.

“Do you want the truth that might mess up everything or do you want me to lie to you and say I'm fine?” you ask, even though you're already on the verge to tell the truth.

“With you? Always the truth, please,” Chan clearly states his preference.

You sigh deeply and tilt to the side so you're facing him properly.

“I think...no, I know I love you.”

“I love you, too, babybun,” Chan responds fondly and kisses you on the nose.

“In a non-friendly way. And I don't mean just sexually, either. I mean, the friendly way and the sexual way haven't diminished, of course. But I also love you in a...I want to be yours, your girlfriend, your lover, your romantic partner, your everything.”

Chan is taken aback by your words. You...feel the same?

“You already are,” he confesses genuinely.

“Huh?” you blink in shock.

“I mean...you are already my everything. But, if you'd like me to officially ask you, then...will you be my girlfriend, angel?”

“You...you'll have me?” you are still in disbelief.

“I thought I already had ya,” Chan pinches your cheeks lightly.

“Damn right you do, Mr. Wolf,” you giggle and pull him into a kiss.

He smells like autumn, his embrace exudes warmth and his lips taste like home.

“You have no idea how badly I've wanted to tell you about my feelings,” Chan confesses. “When I found that story of yours in your drafts, I just couldn't resist the opportunity. I hoped that if I turned your fantasies into reality that you'd eventually fall for me.”

“Oh, Channie...I've been falling for you for longer than you realize,” you admit shyly. “How could I not? You're everything I've ever wanted.”

So, this is what it feels like to have the world in your hands. Huh. You could get used to it.

Bonus:

“No, I'm not kidnapping you!” Chan is adamant as you two sit in a nice restaurant.

“But Chriiiis,” you whine. “You said you'd do anything for my birthday.”

“Anything but that!” Chan shakes his head in amusement.

“Why not? It can be fun!”

“Fun? What if something goes wrong, what if someone sees us and thinks I'm actually kidnapping you, what if...hear me out, here, I go to prison for it?”

“Well, duh, then I'd bail you out!”

“As if you could afford it,” Chan rolls his eyes.

“Hey! But seriously, I'll just tell the cops that I asked you to kidnap me.”

“What if they don't believe you and think you have a Stockholm syndrome?”

“I'll...think of something. Come on, we're going too far with the what-ifs.”

“You gotta be prepared for any situation. You'd know that if you carried the heavy burden of being a dom,” Chan tsks at you.

“I'd know that if you let me,” you give him a wink.

“That will only happen the day I agree to fake-kidnap you.”

“So, tomorrow? It's a date!” you grin excitedly.

“Keep dreaming, darling.”

“Oh, I will.”

The End

[mytherapyisreading14]

Hii! Could make a smutt fic with post prison Spencer fic where the reader and Spencer are like best friends/roommates and she has a massive crush on him and he’s in her room looking for something and finds her diary with all of the dreams she’s had about him and they are like extremely kinky like spitting in her mouth and using his handcuffs on her and while he’s reading the diary she walks in on him and she gets like really embarrassed and he’s being the biggest tease to her and then they fuck. Also could you include the spit kink in the smutt part? If you’re not comfortable with that then it’s fine :). Ps I sent this request to another writer like a week ago but they said that they couldn’t do it because they were only doing blurbs.

A Dream Come True

Summary: When Spencer comes over for one of your weekly movie nights, he accidentally finds your diary and discovers your secret.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female Reader

Category: Smut, some Fluff (18+ MDNI)

Warnings: kissing, dirty talk, use of pet names (baby etc.), praise kink, spit kink, choking, fingering, use of handcuffs, oral sex (f), unprotected sex (stay safe y’all), multiple orgasms, dom!spencer (If I missed any warnings, please tell me)

Word Count: 3,3k

Author’s Note: I got my wisdom teeth out yesterday and finished writing this to distract me from the pain (didn’t work though) 😩 Anyway, I hope you like it! :)

You're standing in the kitchen, the smell of freshly baked cookies hits your nose. You decided to bake some cookies before Spencer is coming over for your weekly movie night. Baking also distracts you from the thoughts that have been consuming you more and more in the last few weeks.

You've always liked Spencer, but in the last few weeks, after he got out of prison, you've been spending even more time together. He needed a distraction and when he finally was ready for it, he also talked to you about what had happened to him.

It broke your heart when he told you what he had to go through. You're glad the team managed to get him out of there. You don't even want to think about how bad it would have been if he had to stay any longer.

You take a look at the clock, Spencer will be here soon. You can't wait, the nervousness tingles in your stomach like usual when you think about him. With a light sigh you put away the last ingredients, while your eyes keep wandering to the calendar on the wall.

You can't say exactly when they started. These... dreams. At first they were just fleeting thoughts that distracted you from the stressful everyday life, but now they are much more than that.

They are firmly imprinted in your mind, as if they are another reality taking up more and more space in your life. You shake your head, trying to compose yourself, but it doesn't work. The desire for these dreams to finally become reality gets stronger everyday, especially when you spend time with him.

You go to your room and open the diary that is still lying on your bed after your last entry this morning. A shiver runs down your spine as you read the words and the memories of your last dream come flooding back.

But the familiar ringing of the door bell snaps you out of your thoughts. Spencer is here. You quickly close the diary and shove it back under your small cupboard in your room where no one can find it.

You open the door and your heart immediately beats faster when you see him. With his messy curls falling over his face and that cute smile he never fails to blow you away. Your breath hitches for a moment as he looks at you.

“Hey, how are you?” he asks as he takes a step towards you and holds out a small bag of gummy bears. “I brought you your favorite gummy bears. They were almost sold out, but I still managed to get a package.” You can’t help but fall into his arms.

“Thank you,” you say, holding him for a moment longer than necessary. It feels so good to feel him close, to breathe in that familiar scent of him. Your heart is pounding loudly in your chest. But then he breaks the moment.

“Did you bake something? I think I can smell cookies,” Spencer says and your eyes widen in shock. "Oh no! My cookies!” you shout, practically jumping out of his arms and storming into the kitchen.

You turn off the oven, take the cookies out and carefully place them on the tray to let them cool off. Spencer follows you, still grinning as he watches you. “Just in time,” you say as you run your hand through your hair. “A moment longer and they would have burned.”

“It's good that I'm not only a genius, but also have a good nose,” he jokes. “Or you’re just hungry,” you answer with a grin as you put the cookies aside. “That too. And you know they are my favorite cookies. I can't just let them burn,” he says and you laugh.

“But they have to cool down before you can eat them. If you want we can already start to watch a movie now,” you say and go over to the living room with him, grabbing a few pillows and blankets to make it even more comfortable on the couch.

"So," Spencer says as he sits down next to you and adjusts the pillows, "what movie are we watching first?" You think about it for a while, deciding whether you want to watch something romantic, funny or classic. Finally, your choice falls on Back to the Future. A movie that you both love.

When you want to turn on the television, you suddenly notice that the remote control is no longer working. “Oh no, the batteries are dead,” you mumble and take them out. “Where do you keep the new ones?” Spencer asks, leaning back and watching you. “I can go and get them while you get us something to drink.”

You nod. “They are in the bottom drawer in the small cupboard across my bed,” you tell him. “All right,” Spencer says, getting up and going to your room to get them. While he's in your bedroom, you take a moment to gather your thoughts. If only you knew what he really thinks about you...

Spencer goes into your room to get the batteries. But when he tries to open the bottom drawer like you told him, it gets stuck, which surprises him. He leans down to look what’s causing it, maybe he can fix it for you. But then he notices that there is a book lying under the cupboard.

Curious, he pulls it out and examines it for a moment. He flips through the pages, slowly, as if he can't help himself. His eyes widen when he realizes it's full of entries - entries about the two of you together specifically. It’s your diary. Full of your thoughts about him.

And not just your thoughts. You also wrote down the dreams you had about him, the wishes and desires you couldn't keep to yourself anymore. Your feelings that you never expressed. Spencer continues reading, and with each word it seems as if the world stops.

You, on the other hand, are now wondering where he is. Why doesn't he come back? You go to your room and open the door. “Spence, did you find them or should I help -” You pause, your eyes immediately falling on the book in his hand and your heart beats faster. You blush as you realize what he just discovered.

He looks at you and a grin spreads across his face. “I found a really interesting book under your cupboard. Why did you hide it from me? I would’ve love to read it sooner,” he says as he takes a step towards you. You feel like the ground is threatening to fall away from under your feet. Your pulse is pounding in your ears and you try to stay calm. “Spence…” you whisper, but you can’t say anything more. You're way too nervous.

He looks at you for another second, as if he's getting lost in your reaction, before holding the diary out to you, grinning ever wider. “You probably not only dream about me every night, but also write everything down so you can think about it again and again, right?”

You feel the blood rush to your head and you almost feel dizzy with embarrassment. "I... uh..." you stammer, "It's not what you think..." Spencer laughs. “No?” he asks as he flips the diary over to the page on which you wrote down your last dream about him.

“Well, I think it's kind of cute that you're so lost in your dreams. But you know what?” You look at him uncertainly as he slowly takes a step closer, leaning down to whisper in your ear. “Now that I know about them, I can make them all come true,” he says quietly. For a moment his eyes are so intense you feel like you could sink into them.

Your mind is racing and you can't believe what he just said. Then he suddenly pushes you against the wall and kisses you. The kiss is not gentle, it’s full of desire and hunger. His tongue pushes between your lips, tasting you. You can feel the heat rushing through your body, pressing your thighs together.

He pulls away, leaving you breathless and craving more. “I’m going to leave you now. When I come back, I want to see you laying on the bed naked, with your legs spread apart. You’re not allowed to touch yourself. Do you understand?” he asks, his voice firm and eyes full of lust.

You nod and a shiver runs down your spine. “Yes, I… I understand,” you breathe out. He smirks before he grabs your diary and turns around to leave the room. You heart is pounding in your chest and you're shivering in excitement. You do as your told and take off your clothes to lay down on the bed, waiting for him to come back.

Spencer however sits down on the couch to read through all of your diary entries. He feels his pants getting uncomfortably tighter the more he reads and one entry particularly draws his attention. You had this dream 2 days ago.

He used his handcuffs to tie you to the bed, kissed down your body before going over to tease you by squeezing your breasts and biting down on your nipples. You begged him to touch you and when he decided that he teased you enough, he went over to eating you out and fucking you with his fingers. And then, after you came, he leaned forward and spit into your mouth.

Spencer never expected you to dream of things like this, but he is more than happy to make them come true. His cock is getting harder and he decides you waited long enough. Luckily, yesterday after you got off work, you got some take out and drove to your place to eat dinner together. He left his vest and jacket, in which he also packed his handcuffs, hanging in your apartment because he knew he would be back today anyway.

He stands up and goes over to get his handcuffs. He straps them to the back of his pants so you don’t see them right away. Then he goes into your room and opens the door. You lay on the bed, with your legs spread apart, just like he told you. He smirks and comes closer, his eyes wander over your body.

You feel extremely exposed and have to resist the urge to put your arms in front of your body to cover yourself. But then you see Spencer's tongue licking his bottom lip and his eyes darken. “You look so beautiful, baby. I can’t wait to finally touch you,” he says and gets onto the bed. He leans down to kiss you again and you run your fingers through his hair.

He kisses your neck before leaning closer to your ear again. “Do you trust me, baby?” he asks and you nod. He shakes his head. “I need words,” he says and you answer him immediately. “Yes, Spencer. I trust you.” He looks pleased. “Good. Can you close your eyes for me?”

You close your eyes and feel him shift, excited to find out what he planned to do to you. You can feel his hands reaching for yours, then you hear the clatter of metal and feel something cold close around your wrist. You know exactly what comes next and a shiver runs down your spine.

He lifts your hands over your head and ties you to the headboard. You can’t help but smile and he notices. “I see, you’re already enjoying this. You can open your eyes now. I want you to look at me when I touch you,” he says. You open your eyes and look up to Spencer above you.

“I have to admit, your dream from two nights ago surprised me. I really liked reading it. I decided to make this one come true first,” he says before he starts to slowly kiss down your neck. He goes further down around your breasts and then your stomach before he spreads your legs apart and leaves kisses between your inner thighs. When he bits down on the soft skin to leave a hickey there you can’t help but moan.

“Please, I - I need you,” you say and try to reach down to press him against you. But you forget that you’re held back by the handcuffs. Spencer chuckles when he sees you like this, helpless and desperate for more. “Be a good girl and I’ll give you what you want,” he says and his hands wander upwards to your breasts again.

He starts to squeeze the right one and leans down to lick over your left nipple before taking it in his mouth. He bites down gently first and then he starts to suck. All the man you had before never really paid that much attention to your breasts and your surprised how good it feels with him.

When he pulls away and blows cold air on your nipple you shiver again. He turns his attention to the other one and you can’t help but moan. “More…please. I need you to fuck me,” you beg him but he just ignores you and continues his actions.

You press your legs together to relief the ache between your legs but he notices and pushes them apart again with his knee. He grabs your chin with his hand and holds you firm, looking into your eyes. “You have to be patient, baby. I want to take my time with you,” he says.

You nod but a silent cry escapes your lips. The way he’s touching your body leaves you craving him even more and after all these weeks of dreaming about this, you don't want to wait any longer. But you know it won't do any good to keep begging. Instead you focus entirely on his lips, his hands and how he touches your body.

When Spencer finally decides that he teased you enough he slowly leans down, hands running up your thighs before spreading your legs even further to get in between them. You look down and in that moment you wish you’d had an eidetic memory too because you never want to forget the way he looks at you now.

“I always wanted to know what you taste like, baby,” he says and you can feel his warm breath against your pussy. Then he finally leans in and starts to circle your clit with the tip of his tongue. The touch is light, teasing again and all you want is to pull him closer and run your fingers through his soft, brown curls. His eyes never leave yours when he starts to devour you.

You can’t help but grind against him and this time, he gives you what you want. One hand moves up to your hip, the other one under your ass and he pulls you closer to him while his tongue continues to move in and out of you. He applies more pressure and adds two fingers, making you moan his name over and over again.

“I’m close,” you manage to breath out and Spencer flicks his tongue over your clit. “Come for me baby, come on my mouth,” he says and you let go. Your back arches off the bed when your orgasm hits you but that doesn’t stop Spencer. He just continues what he’s doing, taking everything in.

Your orgasm slowly ebbs away and Spencer comes up from between your legs, his eyes full of lust. He gently runs a finger over your lip and smirks. “Open up for me, baby,” he says and then you realize what he’s about to do. You shiver in excitement and open your mouth.

Then he leans forward and spits into your mouth. “Swallow.” You obey and keep eye contact with him the whole time. “Good girl,” he praises you and gently kisses you, holding you close to him. He gives you a minute to recover, which you gladly take before he starts to undress himself.

Your eyes widen, he’s definitely bigger than you expected. He goes back in between your legs and slowly runs his tip through your folds. “Just… just fuck me already. Please,” you beg him. “You’re so needy, baby. You want to take it all at once? Fine, then have it.” He thrusts inside of you.

You feel the pleasure rushing through your body, expanding every time he hits your g-spot while he fucks you in a restless pace. “You look so pretty like this. Tied to the bed and fucked out for me. You’re all mine now. Gonna make all your dreams come true,” he says and grabs your hips to hold you firm.

He continues to fuck you until you’re crying out his name. He comes closer and wraps a hand around your throat, before kissing your neck again, leaving more hickeys. When he starts to circle your clit again you feel like you’re going to explode from the intense pleasure.

“Spence, need to… please, please…” you whine, unable to form a complete sentence. He chuckles, clearly amused to see you so desperate for him. “Baby, I don’t understand you. You have to tell me what you want,” he teases, squeezing your throat more and slowing down for a moment.

“I - I want -“ you begin but get cut off again by a moan when he thrusts harder into you again. “Look at that, you’re a complete mess. You clearly don’t know what you want, do you? I’m afraid I have to stop then” he teases. “No!” you answer immediately, wrapping your legs around him to keep him close.

“Tell me what you want then, otherwise I can’t help you. Come on, I know you can do it,” he says. “I want to… I want to come. Please,” you finally manage to say before your eyes roll back again. “That’s it, such a good girl,” he says and releases the hand around your throat to speed up his thrusts again.

Your legs begin to shake uncontrollably when your orgasms hits you and Spencer fucks you through it, finishing inside you a moment later. You can feel his cum deep inside of you. He buries his face in the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent deeply and giving both of you a moment to calm down.

Then he sits up, leaning forward to untie you. You immediately cuddle up to him, holding him as close as possible. “Are you okay? Do you need anything baby? Water maybe?” he asks and gives you a tender kiss on your forehead. “No, please just hold me in your arms now,” you say and he pulls you even closer against him.

He runs his hands through your hair and you can feel his heartbeat beneath your hand. After a while you look up to him, with a smile on your face. “That was even better than in my dreams,” you mumble, still exhausted. He laughs and pushes a strand of hair out of your face. “I’m glad to hear that.”

For a moment everything is quiet, you just enjoy lying in bed together and holding each other in your arms. Then Spencer shifts closer. “You know, tonight it wasn't just your dreams that came true. I wanted this - you - for a long time now too,” he admits and your heart skips a beat.

“Well then I'm happy you found my diary today. Who knows how long it would have taken us before one of us made a move,” you say and laugh. Spencer grins. “Oh definitely way too long,” he says before he leans forward to kiss you again. “I love you,” he says and you smile against his lips. “I love you too.”

[kissforyouu]

I LOVE YOUR TITTIES BECAUSE THEY PROVE I CAN FOCUS ON TWO THINGS AT ONCE !

pairing : bf!jungkook x reader

genre : established relationship

warnings : boobs boobs boobs BOOBS !!! massive boob kink idk everything boobs :P

request : hii, can i ask for something like my bf wont stop touching me but instead of her butt make it her breast? only if ur up to it <3

note : I FINALLY POSTED A FIC R YALL HAPPY WOOO. hope u like dis :D

unedited.

bf!jungkook who's had some sort of a hyperfixation on your tits ever since you both had sex for the first time.

he would always take the chance if it meant he'd get to look or touch your tits.

you walk around your living room with your broom as you swept the floor. jungkook was comfortably seated on the sofa, manspreading as he consumed whatever that was on the tv. you sweep around the sofa, poking the broom under the sofa to check for any trash thats possibly left under it. deciding that that wasn't enough, the place the broom carefully so that it's laid against the sofa, you get down on your knees.

this action catches your boyfriend's attention, his eyes shifting from the tv to you in the matter of a second. you don't notice though. you sit properly on your knees, slightly raising your body up a little so that you could tie your hair up in a messy bun. jungkook licks his lips, fully infatuated by you. but the moment you bend forward to peep under the sofa, that's when he loses his mind. your tits were peaking out of your shirt oh so clearly. he could see the swell of your tits and the thin layer of sweat covering them.

your boyfriend smirks, "thanks for the nice view."

your boyfriend was a little perverted. okay, a lot maybe. only for you though. he always made you wear those see through lace tank tops at home. he'd buy all the cute tank tops to make your tits look pretty and squeezed against one another. not like you minded. you loooveeedddd getting spoiled. plus, free clothes. who would say no? he would always find a way to grope your tits at any moment. but not in public though. that was weird.

jungkook's back was resting against the headboard of the bed as he typed away on his computer. some work matters, you thought. you looked at your boyfriend who was so focused on whatever document he was typing. his eyebrows were furrowed and he was also doing that thing he did whenever he was frustrated--his tongue was poking his cheek.

you slide under the covers, scooting next to your boyfriend and gently lifting his arm up so that you could go under it and lay on his lap while his arm rested on your body while typing. you do just that, your head now resting on his lap while you stared at whatever he was typing on the computer.

minutes pass by, jungkook's hand was comfortably laying on top of your clothed tits. he tapped his fingers on the fat of your right breast, mindlessly pressing onto the flesh finger by finger in a pattern. index finger, middle finger, ring finger, index finger, middle finger, ring finger—

and of course you expected it, it didn't take him any longer before he slid his hand inside to pull out your right tit. jungkook's entire hand envelopes the fat, squeezing it tightly. his touch was very warm, you didn't mind. you squirm in your spot, shifting your position once jungkook switches to your other tit, pulling out the flesh out of your top.

he had no intentions of doing anything sexual after, just wanted to fondle with your tits. maybe he'll suck them if you behaved well. but you couldn't control the growing wetness in your pussy, already wetting your panties. you mewl a little once he twists your nipple in between his fingers, and that's when he notices.

"is my girl getting horny?"

before sleep, he always made sure to give your tits a few kisses. and sometimes (most of the time), they turned into a little more.

"ah...mh, mh, hm" you hum in utter satisfaction, eyes shut while enjoying the pure bliss you're getting from your boyfriend's skillful tongue.

he swirls his tongue around your nipple, eagerly lapping on the hardened bud. jungkook's eyes never left your tits as he made out with the hardened buds, making you feel sooooo good.

"please. don't stop." you whimper out while caressing your boyfriend's hair. his hair smelt exactly like yours, since he started using your godly vanilla shampoo. you just wanted to bury your face in his hair. you massaged his scalp good, had him moaning and groaning into your tits.

he pulled back for a moment to look at his little artwork. you had his saliva all over your tits, making them glisten under the dim light in the room. jungkook spits on your tits again, then spreads it around using the tip of his tongue. it was so nasty. he licks around your areola with the very tip of his tongue, then envelopes your nipple again. he teasingly bites it, causing you to let out a small yelp. he flicks your nipple with his tongue while it was inside of his mouth and pulls away to return back with another harsh suck.

"that feel good?", his fingertips were pressed onto your waist as he smothered his face all over your tits (literally). you could feel the tip of his tongue glide all over your chest and his cheeks pressing onto the flesh of your breath. it was nasty. the saliva on your chest was no longer just there but also on his face as he hungrily inhaled your breasts in and consumed them for the full extent. he was so so so erotic.

jungkook kisses you until you run out of breath while his fingers pinched your nipples hard, twisting them with intentions of causing you pain sexually. you wince. god, you feel your body twitching. your pussy's so wet. clenching on absolutely nothing. it was so evident. the wet patch on your panties. the way your panties hugged your pussy so tightly, the slick was coating the thin material so nicely. the way it hugged your pussy drove jungkook crazy. the material was so tight that it perfectly made out the shape of your chubby pussy.

he cups your breasts with both of his hands, squeezing them till the worlds end. this was supposed to be a comforting moment where he just fondled your breasts before sleep. but now you're grinding against eachother like horny freaks.

another thing that got him so riled up was the cute gold "J" necklace he got you that you would wear. he loved the way it sat on your cleavage, right in between your breasts. he liked it even better when the cute lace tops you got him squeezed your breasts together and the sparkly J initial sat in between the soft pillows. it drove him craaaazy, actually. jungkook always made you ride him when you looked like that.

"jus' like that, baby, hm", his head was slanted against the headboard of you guys' bed, eyes dazed, but still looking at your breasts. you rode his dick till dawn, up and down, up and down.

one of your tits were out of your tight, lace see-through bra and molded into jungkook's palm. he squeezed the flesh in his palm while you made circles on his dick. his tip was hitting the exact right spot that drove you crazy, and it had you twitching on spot.

your boyfriend leans in to lick your hardened clothed nipple of the neglected breast, tugging on the nipple and wetting the lace as well. it was just a big wet smudge on your right tit.

he was like an animal when it came to fucking you. he would pull up with the nastiest ways to have you. jungkook had no shame. his hips raise upwards as he thrusted from below, overtaking your slow ass pace.

"m—mm, hah! please, so fast...!", your tongue was out, panting, and so was his. instead his was licking a stripe from all the way from your stomach, up your cleavage to your lips. he kicked your messily, both of you exchanging saliva to one another in your mouths, passing it around like a football. he tugs on your nipple, harshly pulling it and twisting the bud.

that hurt, obviously.

jungkook pulls away from the kiss and rests his back against the headboard again, still thrusting into you though. at this point both of your tits were out of your bra, jumping up and down, putting on a show for his attention.

you notice the way he moans while eyeing your tits. his eyes travel to the gold necklace in between after, the J necklace that you treasure so much.

"looks so fuckin' hot between those pretty titties. you keep this on all the time, yeah? makes you look prettier when i fuck you, babydoll." he kisses your shoulder blade, trailing kisses to your neck. wrapped around your neck was the gold chain, and jungkook lolls his tongue out to trace the metal chain. he tugs on the chain with his teeth, pulling on it with a groan.

you were getting so tired from jumping on his dick. the more you rode him, the closer you got to your release. jungkook let go of your chain, but grab hold of it this time with his hand. his palm lands two loud slaps on your asscheek, making you moan. same time, he could feel you tighten around his cock. "liked that?" you nod your head repeatedly.

jungkook tugs on the chain, pulling it backwards and then twisting it around his knuckles, choking you with the chain.

fuck, fuck, fuck. so hot.

you crack out a laugh, tongue out, panting. you were so close. so so so close. you had your tits squeezed between eachother tightly, your hands squishing the flesh as you felt the orgasm take over you. your pussy was spasming around his dick as you moan out loud, body thrown over jungkook's chest, tits pressed against his. jungkook definitely loved that feeling.

soon after you cum around him and milk his cock, he does too. his cum slips out of your contracting pussyhole.

jungkook lets out a laugh, hand patting your back and smoothing it. then he looks down from above, enjoying the birds point of view of your squished up tits and necklace in between.

he might just get hard again.

aftercare with jungkook has always been simple. you + boobs + him .

"humph, kook." you groan once you feel your boyfriend's hands squeeze your tits one more time. "bit more." he tugs on your nipple with the tip of his fingers, wiggling on his spot to find a comfortable position in the crook of your neck.

"aah, 'm so sore, baby." your voice aches through with yet another groan. "it's okay. you know it's okay." jungkook reassures.

"how about i give you a massage?" he raises his head up to look at your passed out face. "that's just another excuse for you to touch my tits..."

your boyfriend laughs, "are you complaining, though?" you shake your head with a small smile and turning on your back so that you're laying on your stomach.

jungkook slaps the fat of your ass before he begins to massage around your shoulder area. he does it soooooooooooo good though. he makes sure to press onto your bones and tightly circle around, causing you to moan in satisfaction. you enjoy his massage well until he gropes your breasts from the back, giving both of them a tight squeeze. you yelp in surprised. well, not really, you knew this was coming anyway.

he squeezes your tits and massages them well and even makes sure to give both of them equal attention.

and you both fall asleep with his head nuzzled between your tits and your hand massaging his scalp.

whenever you sucked his cock, at the end, he would always ask "where do you want it?". stupid question. there was only one answer.

jungkook's tip twitches in your mouth and he loosens his grip on your hair, a cracked moan also escaping his lips. "f—fuck, baby. you're so pretty with your lips around my fucking dick."

you flutter your eyes open, bobbing your head up and down. you feel jungkook twitch in your mouth, again. "mhm, where do you- want it?"

there was always only one answer.

you were wearing this grey oversized shirt with the thinnest material. it showed your nipples so well. dare i say jungkook got off to that as well. to answer his question, you squeeze your breast through the material and moan, mouth still filled with dick. he gets the memo and pulls his dick out of your mouth.

you cough out but quickly dismiss yourself and pull the neckline of the shirt down to expose your tits, both coated with a layer of sweat. jungkook cusses at the reveal of your breasts, fastening the speed of his wrist before he spurts his cum onto your exposed boobs.

"haaaaa. oh my god, fuck". you moan out, watching the spurts of cum land all over your breasts, some on the shirt as well as your neck. the white liquid was all over your nipples. so you make sure to rub them with both your index fingers, coating them well before bringing them to your mouth at once to taste them. you lick yourself erotically just as you did to his dick just a few seconds ago and taste your boyfriend's cum in your mouth.

"you taste so so good, baby."

and it's like jungkook's hypnotised again.

[littlelamy]

Hii! I love your writing. Do you think you could write one where Rafe is a single father of a 4-year-old son and he meets a reader, and then they start a relationship and she meets his son and well, they start being a family? I'd love something like that, thank youuuuu

lamy's note: sorry that this is so late! i hope you like it <3

rafe cameron’s life revolved around his four-year-old son, oliver. The little boy was his entire world, a bright spot in the sometimes chaotic life of a single father. mornings were a blur of packing lunches and tying shoelaces, evenings a mix of storytime and sleepy cuddles. it was a rhythm rafe had gotten used to, even if it left little time for himself.

one rainy afternoon, rafe and oliver ducked into a cozy little café to escape the downpour. oliver clutched his favorite dinosaur toy, his small hand wrapped tightly around rafe's fingers. the warm atmosphere welcomed them, the smell of fresh coffee and pastries wrapping around them like a comforting hug. they found a table near the window, where oliver could watch the raindrops race down the glass.

as rafe settled into his seat, his eyes drifted across the room and landed on you. you were seated a few tables away, engrossed in a book, your fingers playing absently with your hair. there was something about you—maybe the peaceful way you seemed lost in your own world—that caught his attention. it had been a long time since he had felt that pull, the quiet intrigue of wanting to know someone.

oliver’s voice pulled him back. "daddy, can I have a cookie?"

"after lunch, buddy," rafe replied, ruffling his son’s hair. "let’s get something to eat first."

when the barista brought their sandwiches and a small cookie for oliver, rafe took the chance to glance your way again. to his surprise, you were looking back, a soft smile on your lips. it was enough to stir something inside him, a quiet encouragement to make a move he hadn’t considered in a long while.

gathering his nerve, rafe stood and walked over to your table, oliver trailing behind him. “hi,” he said, his voice warm but a bit unsure. “do you mind if we sit here? my son has a lot to say about dinosaurs, and i’d love a little adult conversation.”

your smile widened as you nodded. “of course. I could use some dinosaur facts myself.”

as rafe and oliver settled into seats across from you, the conversation flowed easily. rafe learned that you were new in town, working as a teacher at the local elementary school. you asked about his work and how he managed to juggle everything as a single parent. there was a natural chemistry, an ease in the way you spoke, the laughter that bubbled up between shared stories.

oliver, ever the chatterbox, quickly took a liking to you. he proudly showed off his toy, launching into an animated explanation of why the t-rex was the king of dinosaurs. you listened with genuine interest, your enthusiasm making oliver beam with pride.

by the time the rain had stopped, it felt as though you’d known each other much longer than just a single afternoon. before you left, rafe asked for your number, a hopeful gleam in his eyes. “maybe we could do this again sometime? without the rain.”

you agreed, your heart fluttering at the prospect.

in the weeks that followed, the two of you saw more of each other. rafe would pick you up after work, oliver bouncing in the back seat, eager to share his day. dinners turned into outings at the park, where oliver’s giggles echoed through the playground, rafe's hand finding yours as you watched him play. the three of you fit together seamlessly, like a puzzle you hadn’t known was missing a piece.

one evening, after oliver had been tucked into bed, rafe invited you to stay for a late-night movie. the living room was cozy, the soft glow of the tv casting shadows on the walls. you sat close, the warmth of his arm around your shoulders, the quiet intimacy of the moment stretching between you.

when the movie ended, neither of you moved, the silence filled with unspoken words. rafe turned to you, his eyes searching yours. "i've really missed this," he said softly. "having someone to share my life with. i'm glad it's with you"

you reached for his hand, threading your fingers through his. "me too."

the kiss that followed was tender, a slow, gentle meeting of lips that spoke of more than just attraction—it was a promise of what could be. as you leaned into him, the weight of loneliness lifted, replaced by the warmth of a growing love.

in the months that followed, you became a part of their lives in every way. weekends were spent building blanket forts with oliver, evenings filled with quiet moments on the couch, your laughter mingling with rafe’s as you recounted the day’s events.

the day oliver called you "mommy" for the first time, your heart swelled with emotion. rafe squeezed your hand, his eyes shining with gratitude and love.

you were no longer just a visitor in their lives. you were family, a bond formed through shared moments, love, and the quiet understanding that together, you had built something beautiful.

taglist: @namelesslosers @maybanksangel @averyoceanblvd @iknowdatsrightbih @rafesheaven @anamiad00msday @ivysprophecy @wearemadeofstardust0 @rafesangelita @sstargirln @rafedaddy01 @soldesole @bakugouswaif @skywalker0809 @vanessa-rafesgirl @evermorx89 @outerhills @ditzyzombiesblog @slavicangelmuah @alivinggirl @rafesbabygirlx

[moonstruckme]

Hii i have a request for doctor!remus or maybe emt!marauders (whichever you think goes best) with clumsy reader who is constantly covered in mystery bruises and maybe she bumps her head a lot in a just a few days between them and they find out bc they feel or see the bump or they see her bump her head and maybe gives herself a concussion ?? This is kinda what happened to me a few days ago when i smacked my head really hard and then yesterday at an appartement sighting right infront of the previous tenants and the real estate agent 😩 and i remember walking home and seeing like these white spots you see after hitting your head, you know?? And thinking oh if the boys where here they would be scolding me soo hard but also the coddling i just wanted to be wrapped up by them 😭

Oh god sorry for the long unnecessary and embarrassing backstory 😅

And ofcourse you only have to write this if you want to !! Hope you have a great day 💗🫶🏻

Thanks for the request lovely, hope your head is okay!!

cw: concussion

emt!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 658 words

Sirius watches you, nearly falling asleep against Remus’ side at one in the afternoon. You’ve been in a funny mood all day, only wanting to lie around with the curtains drawn and watch films you hardly seem to be paying attention to. It’s not very much like you, but your boyfriends are more than happy to go along with it. Remus has been half drifting off too, while James keeps going back and forth between the kitchen to make more snacks and Sirius sits with your legs across his lap. 

“Is your head still hurting you, lovie?” James asks as he sits down again, probably only for another ten minutes. 

You hum discontentedly. 

Remus responds by holding you to him as he leans forward, taking your water bottle from the coffee table. “Drink some more,” he tells you, voice rough with drowsiness. 

Sirius watches vigilantly as you take a few slow sips. You look tired and put out, but your expression eases into something closer to contentment when Remus pets your hair approvingly. Sirius sees the moment your boyfriend’s brow furrows. His frown as he looks down at your head, moving his hand over the same spot again. 

“Dove, what happened here?” 

“Hm?” You look up at him, but then Remus must press down slightly because your expression pinches. “Ow.” 

“What is it?” Sirius scoots closer. James leans forward in his chair, too.

“There’s a bump on the side of her head,” Remus says worriedly. He’s trying to part your hair to see better. “Can you lean forward for me, love?” 

Sirius sets a hand on your shoulder, encouraging you to bend over and murmuring a thanks when you do. While Remus tries to turn on his phone flashlight, he brushes his fingers gently over your head. You inhale, and his heart flinches. 

“Sorry.” He kisses your hair consolingly. “Do you remember bumping it?” 

“Yeah,” you sigh, as though the mere memory exhausts you. “I knocked it on a cabinet yesterday at work.” 

“You knocked it hard?” James stands up, peering over Remus’ shoulder as he inspects your head. 

“It felt hard at the time, yeah.” 

“Angel, why didn’t you say anything? You ought to have called us after a bump like that.” 

You shrug. Sirius can see you looking sheepishly into your lap. “It was embarrassing, and it didn’t seem very bad. It’s fine now, just a bit sore.” 

“But you have a headache,” Remus says dubiously, “and you’ve been tired ever since.” 

You hesitate. “Yeah, but…” 

“Can you look up here for me?” Sirius touches under your chin, prompting you to sit back up. He holds up his flashlight, making sure you see it before clicking it on. 

Though it shouldn’t be a surprise, you flinch hard, your face scrunching with the force of your squint. Sirius clicks the light off. 

He kisses the space between your brows. “I think you’ve given yourself a mild concussion, sunshine.” 

“Really?” you ask, bemused, at the same time as James makes a horribly dejected sound and leans over for a hug. 

“Our poor sweetheart,” he laments, bent over awkwardly with his arms around you. “No wonder you’ve been feeling so odd today, hm? We really shouldn’t be letting you watch TV while your brain’s trying to recover.” 

“No, we shouldn’t,” Remus agrees, reaching for the remote and switching it off. “How do you feel about a nap, dovey? You’ve seemed sleepy.” 

“That’s a good idea.” Sirius mushes another kiss into your temple. “It might help a bit with your headache, and I know Remus would nap with you.”

You hesitate. James tightens his hold and Remus strokes the hair near your injury, each of your boyfriends desperate to dote on you in their own ways. “Sure,” you say. “That could be nice.” 

“There you go, lovie,” James says approvingly. “If you hadn’t wanted to cuddle with our Rem, then we would’ve had to really worry about your head.”

[take-it-on-the-run]

Not A Lot, Just Forever

Dean Winchester x Pregnant!Reader

After throwing up morning after morning, the reader discovers her illness isn't what she initially thought.

Word Count: 4.1k

Tags: Pregnancy, unexpected pregnancy, brief description of motel bathrooms, vomiting (repeated), self-blame, mention of reader's mother dying in childbirth, mention of childbirth related deaths, anxiety, brief loss of consciousness, Dean is a sweetheart and will make a great father.

Characters: Dean Winchester, Pregnant!Reader, Sam Winchester, Castiel

@ghostlyaccurate requested: "Hii! I'm not sure if I already sent you this request, or if I sent it to someone else (oops🤭) but could I request a Sam Winchester and/or Dean Winchester x reader (your choice which one of them, if not both sepperately) where he helps reader deal with morning sickness, though he only finds out she's pregnant on the third day in a row that he's with her while she throws up. Ty!!"

Read it on AO3!

A/N: Adrianne Lenker title. I really really loved this request! I feel like writing the pregnancy trope is a sort of hard task to do, so I hope I brought it justice. I love love loved writing this, and I hope you enjoy reading it! Thank you for the request @ghostlyaccurate, and I promise I'm trying my damnedest to work through my inbox <3. Every mistake here is completely and 100% my own and of my own doing. (P.S. can you guess how hard it was to find "aesthetic" pictures of a bathroom and pregnancy tests for the pictures for this fic?? I think the ones I found actually work pretty well! Another thing, what happened to the yellow text color? I use it to tag fluff fics, and it's gone :( ).

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Your head hung over the foul toilet bowl of whatever motel you, Dean, and Sam were holed up in, and a rancid smell invaded your nose. In earnest, you didn’t have the slightest idea where you were. The past couple of hours had been filled with a slight fever and the constant need to use Dean as a pillow. Halfway through the drive between towns, you convinced him to switch out driving with Sam so he could join you in the back seat.

The worn tile of the bathroom floor offered you minimal comfort, and the fact you’re supposed to be up for a case in two hours made your stomach churn over again. Ditching your normal avoidance of motel bathrooms, you gripped the edge of the toilet and emptied your stomach again.

“Y/N?” Dean’s groggy voice called out from behind the door, “Are you okay in there sweetheart?”

You squeezed your eyes together, cursing yourself for being loud enough to wake him up. Sneaking out from his arms was a feat enough already, trying to suppress the sound of you losing your guts at four in the morning wasn’t going to happen; even in a perfect world.

“No,” you groaned as he softly opened the door, “I feel like shit De, and you know how much I hate throwing up. And how much I hate motel bathrooms.” You whined. Your hair was falling to the front of your face and you were cursing whoever decided a bathroom didn’t need a working air vent.

Dean hummed softly, pulling the hair back from your face and holding it with one hand as he sat behind you on the floor. He pressed his lips to the back of your head softly, and gently traced shapes on your collarbone as you laid back on him.

“Just breathe, I’ve got you if you need to go at it again.” He said softly, cradling you in his lap as you tried to breathe. He ran his hand through your hair as your breathing started to hiccup less, and eventually, he sat you on the closed toilet lid to get you water.

You felt ashamed to be keeping him up at this hour. Your phone clock read 5:13 AM, almost an hour past when you’d originally gotten up. He already doesn’t get enough sleep as is, and here you are sitting, waiting for him to get back like you aren’t able to take care of yourself.

“Here you go, drink slowly. Did you use the mouthwash I gave you?” He asked as he handed you his water bottle. He stood across from you, tucking his hands into the pockets of his pajama pants. You nodded softly, gratefully gulping down the contents of the bottle.

The bags under his eyes were already enough to make you feel guilty. Hunters were used to running on minimal sleep, but with you around, he’d just gotten into the six-hour range. He rubbed his face, inhaling like he normally did when he was trying to make a decision. You didn’t want to go out for the case. You barely wanted to move your body to get back in bed and salvage what little sleep you could before life kicked you back into gear.

“Do you want to stay here while Sam and I talk to the family?” Dean asked as if he could read your mind.

I love you so damn much. You thought, bowing your head with a sigh of relief. You didn’t want to be the one to bring up staying in; neither of you ever wanted to admit you needed breaks, but if the other one was to bring it up, it made the process easier.

You nodded, pushing yourself to your feet as he opened the door for the two of you, “yeah, I think that’s best for all of us. Don’t need me puking in the victim’s bathroom as you guys ask your questions.” You tried to joke as you and Dean crawled back into bed, tucking yourself into his arms, and splaying your legs haphazardly on top of his.

The next morning wasn’t any better.

Sam and Dean had come home late from questioning the family, and you were barely aware of them unloading the Chinese food they brought for you. Dean sat with you against his chest, still half-dressed as an FBI agent, as you wolfed down the egg rolls he got. You found yourself starving when they offered you food, but now you regretted eating anything at all.

You found yourself hung over the toilet again, but thankfully only had to put up with one round of saying goodbye to your lunch. You were able to get yourself up and over to the sink, where you repeated Dean’s routine from the morning before.

You leaned against the counter in the small kitchen, Dean’s water bottle filled with tap water in your hand. You turned to dump the rest in the sink when the creak of a floorboard behind you had you spinning on your heel in record time.

“Jesus Christ, Dean. Why are you up?” You asked in a hushed tone, placing your hand over your racing chest.

“I could ask you the same thing,” He crossed the small room and came over to embrace you in his arms, “did you get sick again?” He asked innocently, but the combination of those words, and the pitiful shift of his eyes was enough to make you feel like a child. You were a grown woman, you knew damn well how to take care of yourself much before the Winchesters were in your life.

You huffed in annoyance, pulling back from Dean’s chest. You felt your face begin to heat up, and it felt like anything Dean could say had the chance to send you over the edge.

“Yes, I did. Right now, I feel like my body is too hot and too tight for my bones, and I also feel like anything you say is going to make me hit the roof. Even if it’s nice, I just don’t think my brain can take in any more words without wanting to jump ship.” You said you rubbed your temples. Things like this had happened occasionally in the past, and before Dean, you figured it was just because you were a rigid person. One night a particularly bad migraine had led to you yelling at him because he offered to get you some medicine. Instead of just leaving you to stew, like every other partner did, he simply asked you to explain what you were feeling. No judgment, no interruptions, and he’d do whatever you said would make you feel better in that moment.

Now, whenever you felt overwhelmed, he did the same. He’d swallow any sarcastic comment or solution to your problem and listen to you. No matter what was bothering you, at whatever hour of the day, he was at your side, doing what you asked of him without hesitation.

He just nodded, pressing his lips to your forehead before he led you back to the bed you two were sharing for the case. His body threw off heat like a bonfire, and your normally freezing hands were appreciative of that. In this moment, however, it felt like you were burning from the inside out.

You adjusted yourself between the sheet and the comforter, so the two of you could still touch without pressing your skin together. Dean waited for you to still before he made himself comfy, and he gently ran his fingers through the ends of your hair.

“Is this okay right now? Do you want me to leave you be?” He asked, in as soft of a voice as he could. You hummed, smiling at the tingling sensation running through you. Comfort, and a warmth that wasn’t burning to the touch, crawled up your back, and into your head. You tried to focus your eyes for a couple of seconds more, but without your control, they forcefully fluttered shut.

“Y/N.”

Sheet tangled between your limbs, and you could see the light through your closed eyes. Opening them, you find an unexpected sight. Instead of Dean, or Sam, standing at your bedside, the trench coat-clad angel you’d met five years ago stood awkwardly, waiting for you to fully wake up.

“Cas,” you rubbed your eyes as you sat up, “what are you doing here? Where’s Sam and Dean?” You asked.

Cas sighed and sat at the end of your bed. He shot you a quick look, before focusing his eyes on the blank wall in front of him. He tapped his fingers on his legs, a habit he picked up from Sam.

“Dean called me and told me you were sick. I came in, and told him I’d try and cure whatever… ailment is afflicting you.”

You smiled at the way he spoke, and the fact Dean went out of his way to try and help you out, but there was something off about Castiel’s demeanor. You sat up and touched his arm to get his attention.

“Cas, what’s wrong? Did something happen that I should know about?” You asked softly.

“I think you’re pregnant, Y/N.” He looked at you, and there was a rift of guilt lingering in his eyes.

A course of confusion and shock coursed through your body before you felt a rotting pit settle at the bottom of your stomach.

“Why would you… think that, Cas?” You felt a tightness taking over your throat, rubbing your hand across your neck to try and loosen it.

“I can sense life forms. Human ones, at least. It was hard to tell with Sam and Dean here, but once they left I was able to confirm my suspicions.”

Your hand traveled to your lower abdomen before your mouth spat out a request without thinking.

“Pregnancy tests. Can you get me some, please? I just,” you ran your hand across your forehead quickly, “I want to confirm, using non-magical means.”

Cas nodded, “of course. I’m going to assume you don’t want me to let Dean know?”

You nodded your head before swinging your legs over the side of the bed. Deep down, you knew Cas was right. You were late by a few days, but you’d chalked it up to the illness that’s kept you on the bench for this case. You didn’t usually react as poorly as you’ve been to an illness, even when you’d gotten a terrible case of Pneumonia.

Getting up from the bed, you walked into the bathroom as Castiel vanished to get you a couple tests. Looking to the mirror, you’re met with a form of you that was a little scary; purple, slightly-puffy eyes, smeared makeup that hadn’t been washed off from days before, and your skin was breaking out in places it hadn’t before.

Dean hadn’t said a word about it, but even someone as blissfully ignorant as him had to have noticed the way your face wasn’t looking like your own.

Dean.

You’d have to tell Dean you were pregnant, with his child. That you’re going to be parents.

What if he didn’t want to be a father at thirty-six?

Children weren’t one hundred percent out of the question, but they were longer down the line in hunters’ lives. If you were lucky enough to get out of the life unscathed and find someone who would want to settle down with, you’d likely be creeping into your mid-forties, at best. Mary had gotten lucky with John, but now they’d both been taken away by the thing they’d spent half of their marriage avoiding.

What if you weren’t ready to be a mother at thirty-five?

For you, it wasn’t the question of wanting to have kids, but you never saw you or your boyfriend backing out from hunting anytime soon. To add on, you’d heard of many nasty births that ended in fatality for the infant or the mother, including your own. Every time you and the boys were on a case involving a child, you’d be extra reckless. Dean picked this up within the first couple of times you’d almost gotten yourself killed to save a kid, and you explained your fear to him. The fear of a mother not being able to welcome her child home in her arms, or the child not seeing his mother again, and their fate lying in your hands. You’d already ripped apart your family, and you tried your damnedest to keep as many together as possible.

A ruffle of feathers and a sharp knock on the bathroom door snapped you out of your thoughts.

“You can come in, Cas.”

Wordlessly, the angel stepped into the small motel bathroom holding a plastic bag. He pulled out three different pregnancy tests and set them on the counter.

“The woman working there said I should get a couple just in case one doesn’t work like it should.” He said as you picked up the first test. “I’m telling the truth, but I understand you wanting to confirm this to yourself.”

I know Cas, you thought, but you didn’t say a word. Instead, you stared at him, waiting for him to leave the bathroom, but he had a blank look on his face and didn’t move a muscle.

“Cas, I’m going to need you to leave the bathroom for me to do this.”

“Oh, sorry. Of course. I forgot how ‘hands-on’ human tests can be. I apologize.” He said blatantly before stepping out of the bathroom and shutting the door behind him.

Fuck me.

That’s what got you into this in the first place, dumb ass.

After twenty disgustingly long minutes in the decrepit motel bathroom, you walked out holding four positive tests. Cas was sitting on Sam’s bed, staring out the window, but immediately stood up and crossed the room to you. You handed him the tests, and he placed them on the table between the two beds.

“How do you feel?” He asked. Another thing he picked up from his years on earth was the ability to know when to ask what questions.

You felt blank. Void of answers and solutions to the situation at hand. Whether or not to turn left, or right.

“I… don’t know what to do, Cas.” Your voice broke along with the tears you were holding back, and a sinking feeling of hopelessness began to dig its way through your head.

Neither you nor Dean are ready to be parents. What if Dean’s angry? He would never kick you out of the bunker. The bunker is the only real home any of you have had in a long time, but is it safe? Is the world safe enough to bring a baby into? A Winchester baby, who would no doubt be a target from birth. What if the baby doesn’t make it to full term? What if this baby kills you like you killed your own mother?

“Y/N,” Cas placed his hand on your shoulder, “I’m going to ask you to take a breath.” He drew his hand up and waited for you to inhale. Taking in a shuddered breath, you followed the flow of his hand, stopping your heart from running up your throat.

“Thank you.” You said, sitting down on your bed and grabbing the pregnancy tests off the nightstand. Two pluses, two double lines. You and Dean were careful and used a condom whenever you found extra time together, but somehow God decided that rubber wasn’t going to work as intended.

“I think I’m going to just lay here,” you tuck yourself under the bed sheets once more, the tests shoved into your pajama pants, “and wait for Dean and Sam to get home. I’ll get him out of this stuffy ass room and tell him in private. Sam shouldn’t have to witness if we- if we argue. I know it makes him feel awful.”

“That’s a smart plan. You need to take this one step at a time and do it carefully. I know Dean cares for you deeply, but if you need someone to support you, all you have to do is call for me.” Cas squeezed your shoulder reassuringly.

“Thank you, Cas.” You yawned, pulling your body further under the covers of the bed. Castiel smiled slightly, before turning away and disappearing with a familiar rush of wings flapping.

Your body was covered head to toe in sweat, and the bed sheet you wrapped around yourself was thrown onto the floor. No light entered the room, and the time on the alarm clock read 1:43. Your stomach churned in a familiar way, and as you got to your feet you finally noticed neither of the boys were in the room.

You clambered to the bathroom, phone in hand, trying to call Dean. One hand braced on the toilet, and the other tried to thumb down to his contact. There wasn’t any time to think about the fact you were carrying a baby inside of you, the baby whose father is missing in the middle of the night with no calls or messages.

They always call. You thought before you set your ringing phone on the floor to throw up for the first time that morning. The phone rang, the sound slowly driving you insane each time you redialed Dean’s number between dry heaving into the bowl.

Your hair was sticking to your forehead, poorly swept away and held back by a rubber band you found on the sink. The heat, the pain, and the fear of losing contact with the Winchester brothers combined with the reality of you being pregnant was finally built up enough to break the swarm of emotions you barely choked down when Cas was in the room earlier.

Eyes burning, you slumped against the sink cabinet and brought your phone to your ear as you called Dean once again. You let out a sob, tears rushing down your face and neck, leaving behind a slightly burning trail. Your breathing became uneven, the sound of your own heart drumming through your ears drowning out the ring of your phone. Letting your phone slip to the floor, you brought your knees to your chest and folded your arms as a nest for your forehead.

Neither of the boys called within the twenty minutes you were in the bathroom, your phone was now close to being dead, and no muscle in your body wanted to obey your brain telling them to move and do something. You weren’t a weak woman, you took the cards you were dealt and tried your best to win, but sometimes all you could do was fold.

“Y/N? Y/N?”

A hand pulled your face from your knees, and you could barely see with the light of the bathroom now on and blinding you. A warm hand rested against your cheek while another briefly touched your forehead.

“Help me get her up, Sammy,” your eyes fluttered closed and you felt two arms hook under both your arms, laying them over shoulders as your feet lightly dragged across the floor.

“I’ve never seen her this bad, Dean.” The voice you now recognized as Sam said. Your legs were swept up from under you and you were laid on the bed you’d crawled out of.

You felt the tests still pressing in your pockets, and you thanked whatever greater being was willing to listen. There was no way you wanted to Dean to discover that information on accident.

Dean.

The other voice was Dean.

You moron, who else would it be?

The bed next to you dipped down, and you felt a gentle hand tuck a few stray hairs behind one of your ears. The sweat covering you was sucking every inch of clothing to your skin, and all you wanted to do was peel either of the pair off.

“I thought Cas was going to come here and help her out,” you heard his voice straining as he spoke, and you felt your heart snap in two.

You moved your hand, as heavy as it felt, and squeezed the first part of him you touched.

“Sweetheart,” you could feel Dean’s breath as he hovered over you, “you’re scaring me here.”

“Cas…” you gave out a heavy cough, “he came. He helped me figure out what’s been happening.”

A glass of water was brought to your mouth, and you took every drop of it. After swallowing the cup, your eyes finally were able to open. You were greeted by a worried Dean hovering very close to you, and a worried Sam crossing back from the kitchen holding Dean’s water bottle.

Sam set the bottle on the bedside table and sat on his bed, facing you and Dean. Dean’s attention was solely on you. His hands grabbed both sides of your face and brought his lips to your forehead, before resting against it.

“Hey,” you said, chuckling slightly, “I didn’t mean to scare you, De. You, or Sam.” You sat yourself up in bed.

“Did Cas tell you what’s wrong?” Sam asked, looking at you expectantly.

“He did, but… is it okay if I talk to Dean? Alone?” You asked softly.

Sam shot Dean a look, which Dean promptly returned with one that had Sam standing up, and walking into the hall.

Orange rays of light shone from the window of the room, and you could just barely see the sun climbing on the horizon. Dean moved to hold you in bed while you gained the composure to tell him you were both parents.

“Dean…” you breathed steadily, trying to even your heartbeat that was ramping up once more, “I have to tell you something-”

“I kinda gathered as much sweetheart,” he said lightly, lines forming around his forest-lorn eyes beautifully.

“- it’s important. I mean, it’s going to change our lives, for the rest of our lives.”

Dean’s face became more serious, pulling you to face him as he crossed his legs.

“You know you can tell me anything, Y/N.”

Do it, now. Just say-

“I’m pregnant.”

The air hung heavy around the pair of you as you handed him the tests in your pocket, and you could see the clocks turn in Dean’s mind as he stared down at them.

“But we used a rubber?” He said, and you could guess where his thoughts were wandering.

“We did, but you’re the only person I’ve been with for years, Dean, I need you to believe me when I say that.” You said reassuringly as you could without sounding like you were lying.

His face broke into a small smile, and he brought his thumb to trace over your lower cheek, “I know, sweetheart. I trust you with my heart, I just know not to use that brand anymore, seems like their effectiveness is questionable.”

You laughed, tears drying in your eyes as you pushed at him playfully, “Dean! You gave me a heart attack, you son of a bitch!”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry okay!” He laughed, capturing you in a giant bear hug and rolling you on top of him. You looked down at him and brought your lips down to his.

“You’re going to be a father,” you said, beaming at him while smiling the hardest you’d ever in the longest time

“You’re going to be a mother,” he replied, smiling just as hard. Your face fell slightly, and the word mother finally kicked into your head. “Hey,” Dean said as he saw your face shift, somehow remembering the story you told him all those years ago, “Remember, we’ve got an angel on speed dial, and you know how hard it is to take out a Winchester.”

Your heart warmed at the statement, the baby inside of you was just as much L/N as it was Winchester. You loved Dean with your heart, as did he love you, and now the two of you were going to brace the dangerous world you’d spent years protecting with the amalgamation of that love.

You brought Dean’s hand to your stomach as he brought his other hand to your face. His calloused fingers were gentle on your skin, and small crinkles formed around his eyes as he smiled, holding his hand at your stomach as you gazed back at him.

A knock sounded at the door, making you turn your head around before you and Dean burst into laughter, and told Sam he could come back in the room to tell him the news.

[hoshifighting]

hii can you plsss do college fling!joshua too (with smut if you like!) thank you <3

warnings: smut, dorm-kitchen counter sex, clit stimulation, penetrative sex, dirty talk, teasing.

college fling!joshua’s definitely not the type to be found at some wild frat party, shirt half-buttoned, shouting about shots. he’s more… chill. like, you can see him with a small group of people, maybe talking about some obscure trivia fact or just hanging back with his guitar, strumming casually. and you notice him in those quiet corners, head down, minding his business, but when people need help, he’s there, no hesitation. just this soft smile, eyes that look like they’ve got their own glow. no front, no ego.

it’s karaoke night when you really notice him, though. one of those lowkey, “organized by the student council” kinda nights, where everyone’s already a little awkward, shifting in their seats, waiting for someone to break the ice. and there’s joshua, sitting off to the side, fingers tapping lightly against his leg to the beat of some old song. you’re not even surprised when the karaoke machine starts acting up, some tech issue, because of course, it would. you glance over at joshua, who's already looking around for someone to fix the damn thing. you try messing with the settings on the machine yourself, but the screen flashes error messages, and honestly, you just wanna punch the damn thing. you groan under your breath, “seriously? i’m not dealing with this shit right now.”

“need a hand?” joshua’s voice pulls you out of your frustration, and you turn to see him standing there, that soft smile of his doing most of the talking. like he’s amused at your mini-meltdown but too nice to say it.

“yeah, this thing’s giving me hell.” you lean back, giving up for a second, hands raised like you’re surrendering to the machine. “you know anything about fixing this?”

“nah, but i can try,” he says, stepping in a little closer. and you can smell him—fresh, like he doesn’t even have to try. just naturally… clean, if that’s a thing. his fingers brush the buttons, the machine beeping a little, but still refusing to cooperate. he chuckles under his breath. “guess it’s not in the mood.”

you smirk, feeling the tension ease a little with him around. “yeah, technology’s a bitch sometimes.”

“always.” he laughs, this soft, almost shy sound, but then his gaze lands on the guitar sitting by the stage. “y’know… if this thing’s not working, we could just do it old-school.”

you raise a brow, curious. “old-school? like… live music?”

he nods, picking up the guitar like it’s second nature to him. “yeah, i mean… it’s karaoke night, right? we’ll make our own music.” there’s something about the way he says it, all easy and laid-back, that makes you wanna go along with it. he’s not pushy, but you feel pulled in by his vibe. the room’s already a bit more relaxed, people chatting amongst themselves, so you shrug and sit back on one of the chairs in front of the stage. “alright, hit me with your best shot.”

he laughs, adjusting the guitar strap, and then strums a few chords, testing the waters. it’s a familiar tune, something simple and nostalgic, and he hums along softly, almost like he’s figuring out the right words to sing. and when he finally starts, his voice is buttery smooth, like it was made to just slip into your ears and settle in. it’s not showy, not overly polished, just nice. like something you didn’t know you needed until you heard it. you can’t help but watch him, a little too closely maybe, as his fingers move over the strings, his body swaying a little with the rhythm. his eyes flick up to yours, and for a split second, it’s like the room disappears. there’s just you and him, and this stupid little connection through music. cheesy as hell just like the barbie's movie says, but it’s there.

“you wanna sing along?” he asks, like he’s already expecting you to say no, but he’s hopeful anyway.

you bite your lip, half-laughing. “if i do, i’ll ruin the vibe.”

he tilts his head, amused. “nah, you won’t. c’mon, what’s your go-to song?”

you hesitate, feeling a little exposed, but then screw it. if joshua can stand up there and casually play a whole damn song in front of people, you can at least join him. you mutter the name of some old song, and before you know it, he’s playing the first chords. you start singing, a little unsure at first, but his guitar backs you up, makes you feel more confident.

and it’s weird, ‘cause it’s so not what you expected to be doing tonight—singing a duet with joshua hong of all people. but here you are, the two of you vibing, making the room your own little bubble for a while.

after a while, you stop caring if anyone else is even paying attention. it’s just fun, and you’re actually enjoying yourself, which… yeah, is rare for these kinds of school-organized things.

“see? not so bad, right?” he says, a little breathless, guitar still in his hands.

“yeah, i guess that wasn’t too bad,” you admit, feeling your face heat up a little.

and just like that, you’re kinda hooked. you don’t even know why, but there’s something about how easy it is with him. he’s not forcing anything, just letting shit happen, and it’s fun. more fun than you’ve had in a while, honestly. “thanks for, uh… saving karaoke night,” you say, trying not to sound as flustered as you feel.

he shrugs, smile never leaving his face. “anytime. but, um… maybe next time, we won’t need the machine at all.”

and there it is again, that little spark of something—like he’s leaving the door open for whatever comes next. not pushing, not expecting. just waiting to see if you’re gonna step through.

you smile back at him, feeling your heart beat just a little faster. “yeah… maybe.”

college fling!joshua that would approach you with his shy ass in the hallway like it wasn’t a big deal, but it was. ‘cause he wasn’t the type to just walk up to someone and invite them over. you weren’t expecting it either. but there he was, scratching the back of his neck, trying to play it casual like it didn’t take him a full two minutes to get the words out.

“uh… i’m having a few friends over on friday. you know, snacks, music, nothing crazy. you should come.”

you remember his smile, that little tilt of his lips that had your stomach flipping like you’d already said yes before your brain could process. and obviously, you agreed.

so friday night rolls around, and you’re standing in front of his dorm in this fresh little dress you threw on last minute. not like you’re trying to impress him or anything, but you catch the way his eyes drop the second you step in. joshua’s trying to keep it together, but you can feel his gaze like a burn, lingering on your legs before he quickly looks away. there’s this subtle hitch in his breath when he greets you, and his cheeks turn a little pink, but he pulls himself back into being the polite, nice guy he is.

his dorm’s small but neat, smelling like fresh laundry and some subtle citrus scent from the diffusers he’s got stashed in the corners. there’s a few of his friends scattered around, all of them chill, chatting over music that’s playing just loud enough to vibe to. joshua’s close-knit group, not the party type, exactly what you expected. he’s quick to make sure you’ve got everything—“you want a drink? water? soda?”—and then asks if you need a blanket when he notices your legs.

“you good? it’s a bit chilly, i can grab something if you want.”

you almost laugh at how hard he’s trying to be respectful, like the thought of your legs exposed is messing with him more than he’s willing to admit. but you shake your head, leaning back on the couch with your drink and teasing him a little. “i’m fine, joshua. don’t worry.”

he gives you this awkward smile like he’s low-key relieved, but you see him still trying to fight his instincts to look.

after a couple of hours, his friends head out, leaving the place a little messy—empty cups and snack wrappers scattered on the table. you’re quick to start picking things up, despite joshua’s protests.

“seriously, you don’t have to clean up. i got it.”

but you insist, throwing away trash and stacking cups, and before you know it, it’s just the two of you alone in his small dorm. the quiet settles in, just the low hum of music in the background, and you notice how much more intense it feels without anyone else around. joshua’s hovering by the window, glancing out towards the campus, and then he shuts it without saying anything, locking the latch with this quiet click.

“just in case,” he mutters to himself, not looking at you.

you’re leaning against the counter now, arms crossed, watching him. there’s something in the way he’s moving slower. like he’s waiting for you to make the next move. but you don’t, ‘cause part of you wants to see where he’ll take it.

joshua turns, finally meeting your eyes again, and it’s different this time. there’s no one else here, no distractions, and he’s got that nervous energy radiating off him. “thanks for, uh, staying to help,” he says, his voice softer now, stepping a little closer.

“no problem.” you smile, and it’s so obvious what’s happening, but neither of you is calling it out.

he’s standing in front of you now, closer than he was before, eyes flicking between yours and then down to your lips. it’s subtle, but you catch it, and it’s like that’s all the signal you needed. your heart’s racing, but you stay calm, lifting your chin just slightly as if daring him to do something.

and he does.

slowly, almost like he’s scared to break the moment, joshua reaches out, one hand finding your waist, his fingers hesitant at first. then he pulls you in, just enough that there’s barely any space left between your bodies. you feel the warmth of him, and when he leans down, his breath ghosts over your lips.

you can tell he’s thinking about it—overthinking, probably—because he pauses, eyes searching yours, like he’s waiting for you to stop him. but you don’t. instead, you close the gap, brushing your lips against his. he lets out this shaky breath, and suddenly his hands are on you, one cupping your face, the other steadying your waist. he deepens the kiss, slow but knowing, like he’s taking pleasure in every second. his lips are warm, soft, but there’s this need in the way he moves.

your hands find their way to his chest, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt, pulling him closer. he responds by pressing you back against the counter, not forceful, but enough that you can feel the solidness of his body, everything intensifying.

“is this… okay?” he mumbles against your lips, his voice low and breathless, and you swear the way he asks, so fucking polite in the middle of a heated kiss, makes you want to open your legs for him even more.

“yeah, joshua,” you whisper back, pulling him in tighter.

his lips are still on yours, but there’s nothing sweet about the way he’s kissing you anymore. “turn around.” your breath catches because the tone’s different. he’s not asking now, he’s telling, and the sudden deep voice is doing things to you. so you turn around, heart racing, hands bracing yourself against the counter. you feel his body press up behind yours, and his hand, slides down your waist, squeezing, as he grinds into you. it’s slow, teasing, and already you can feel how hard he is through his jeans.

“fuck, joshua…” the words come out in a breathy gasp, ‘cause honestly? you didn’t expect this from him—not the shy guy who asked you to his dorm like it was some casual hangout.

“sorry,” he breathes out, lips brushing against your neck as he speaks. “can’t… fuck, i can’t help it.”

you let out a shaky breath, trying to stay steady, but he’s not giving you the chance. his other hand comes up, gently pushing your back down until you’re bent over the small counter, ass pressed right up against him. you’re not even sure how it escalated this quickly, but fuck, you’re not complaining.

then you feel him, fingers brushing against the hem of your dress, pulling it up to expose more skin, and his hand lands firmly on your ass. not too hard, just enough to make you gasp, your body arching a little further into him. “you okay?” his voice comes out breathy, but there’s an edge to it, like he’s fighting to hold back. and before you can even respond, he’s slipping a hand between your legs, fingers ghosting over your clothed heat, and you swear you hear him let out this needy ass moan, “fuck, you’re already so wet.”

you nod, holding back a whimper, pushing back into him for more. but he doesn’t rush it. his fingers slip under the fabric, pressing right where you need him, just enough to make you moan, and he chuckles—this soft, wicked sound that makes your skin burn.

“such a good girl for me, hm?” he mutters, his breath hot against your ear now as his fingers start rubbing slow, lazy circles over your clit. he’s not just pressing down; he’s moving in these subtle little zig-zags, shaking his fingers side to side, making your legs shake from how fast they are. it’s like he knows exactly how to drive you wild, how to get you off, without giving you too much too soon.

you whimper, your back arching even more as his other hand slides up your back, then gently wraps around your throat. and it’s not hard, not really, but just the feel of his fingers there makes your mind go blank, and you moan, “joshua, please.”

“please, what?” he whispers against your ear, and his voice is so soft, so sweet, but his fingers on your clit are ruthless, moving faster now, leaving you sensitive enough so you can feel every inch of him after. “you gotta tell me what you want sweetheart.”

you let out a desperate moan, pushing back against him, “i need you to fuck me, joshua.”

you can feel him tense up behind you, and he curses under his breath, hands moving quickly now, yanking your panties down. his fingers dig into your hips, pulling you back as he fumbles with his belt, and you’re so on edge. the second you hear the metal clink of his belt hitting the floor, you’re already bracing yourself, because you can feel it—the way he’s lined up behind you, the head of his cock brushing against your entrance, teasing you, driving you insane.

he pushes in slow at first, but you can feel how fucking hard he is, stretching you open inch by inch, and it’s so much, so thick that you have to bite your lip to keep from crying out. and joshua’s not saying anything, but his breathing’s ragged, and he lets out this low, drawn-out moan, like he’s trying to hold it in but can’t help himself.

“f-fuck,” he groans, his hips pushing in deeper until he’s fully inside you. he pauses there for a second, like he’s savoring the way you feel wrapped around him, and you hear this desperate little “ahh!” leave his lips, his head falling forward onto your shoulder.

and you? you’re clenching around him, your body so fucking desperate for more. you try to move, but his grip tightens on your hips, holding you still. “no— fuck, no” he mutters. “lemme just… ngh.. fuck, you feel so good.”

then he starts moving, almost like he’s teasing you, his hips rolling into you in these deep, measured thrusts. but it’s not enough—you need more, and you try to push back against him, but he’s got you locked in place, his hand still around your throat, applying the slightest bit of pressure that has you gasping.

“joshua, please, more. i n-eed more!” you beg, words sounding more like a whimper.

his grip on your throat tightens just a little, his fingers flexing as he starts thrusting harder, rougher, his cock slamming into you with this wet, filthy sound that has you both moaning. his hips snap into yours, relentless now, and he’s fucking you like he wants to be engraved on your mind.the polite, careful joshua you thought you knew is missing, replaced by someone who’s desperate to ruin you.

he leans forward, his lips right against your ear as he groans, “you like this, huh? you like how i fuck you? hm? can you feel how your pussy 's swallowing my cock?”

and you can’t even speak at this point, just a mess of moans and gasps, your hands gripping the counter so hard that your knuckles hurt. all you can do is nod, your body trembling with every hard thrust, your clit throbbing as his hips grind into you.

then his hand leaves your throat and slides down between your legs again, fingers finding your clit, rubbing those same zigzagging from earlier, but this time faster. your legs nearly buckle, a scream leaving your throat and you're sure he's going to have a problem with his dorm neighbours later, and he’s moaning in your ear now, his breath hot against your skin, “you’re so fucking tight, i’m not gonna last long.”

you’re shaking, so fucking close, and you can feel him getting sloppier, his thrusts losing rhythm. his fingers press harder against your clit, now moving in these frantic little circles that make your body explode with pleasure.

“cum for me,” he groans, his voice all breathy and wrecked. “c’mon, baby, i wanna feel you cum around my cock. wet me all over, come on…”

your orgasm hits you before you can even take another breath, your whole body contorting as you cry out, legs tremulous beneath you. you clench around him so tight, and joshua lets out this filthy moan—“oh fuck”—his hips slamming into you one last time before he’s spilling inside you, groaning loud as he rides out his orgasm.

he’s the first to move, pulling out slowly, nearly timidly, and you hear him mutter something under his breath—probably apologizing, because of course he is. you push yourself up from the counter, your legs still shaking, and turn to face him. his cheeks are flushed, his hair a mess, and there’s this sheepish, almost embarrassed look on his face, like he can’t believe what just happened.

he smiles, a little shy but still clearly proud of himself. and then, just like that, he’s back to being the joshua you know—sweet, considerate, polite—offering you a towel and asking if you’re thirsty again, like he didn’t just fuck you into oblivion against the counter.

[be-xkyy]

Hello! Since I read your Yandere stories, my head began to ask these questions, how many children do our yanderes want to have for us? Would they get a little jealous when our babies are feeding from us?

Hii Dear Anon!

First of all I'm glad you liked my content, thank you! And secondly, your question is very good Anon, although this will be a bit short, I hope you like it! 🖤

How many children would the yanderes have with reader? Would they be jealous of their children?

Tagging list: @kthehoeforfictionalmen ★ @dreamlessnight ★ @riawrld ★ @darkuni63 ★

Yandere Farmer Link

This man definitely wants lots of kids, five or six at the very least and about nine or ten at the most, I think he'd mostly prefer to have boys (since he thinks they're easier to handle) but he wouldn't mind having one or two girls, he has a big farm so he doesn't worry about space and he makes enough money from the cattle and crops to support them all.

As for being jealous of his children when they're breastfed or jealous in general, I don't think so. I honestly don't think he's the "Stay away son, she's mine" type but he also wouldn't let you have much time with the kids especially if they're boys since if you spoil them too much he thinks you'll make them "weak" and "mama's boys" which he doesn't want, so when they learn to walk he'll take them with him to do the farm chores.

"The kids are coming to work with me today. What if they're three and four? That's the perfect age to start getting to know everything, don't question me."

Yandere Cowboy Link

He would want at least 3 children, two boys and a girl, although he might want more, depending on his mood.

And regarding getting jealous when watching his child eat or in general, I think he would get a little jealous, although he would try to be playful and downplay it, saying things like "He's a little chubby, don't you think you feed him too much?" Or "Look, it's 1 PM, isn't it time for a nap? Come on, son, it's time to sleep." Of course you don't let him take the baby away, it's not his bedtime yet.

"Baby doll, when I was a child I was fed and put to sleep at any hour even if I didn't want to, and look at me, everything turned out fine!"

Yandere Dilf Link

This poor man wants to have two girls, two little princesses that look like you, he already has one son so you'd rather have girls but he doesn't care if one is a boy or if they both end up being boys (although not having a daughter that looks like you would break his heart) he's one of the few yanderes that promises to have only two children and keeps it. He doesn't force you to have more even if the ones you give birth to aren't the gender he wanted.

Well now I don't think he would get jealous of his children while breastfeeding, rather I think he would touch the baby's head while breastfeeding even leaving kisses on its chubby cheek, although seeing you breastfeeding might excite him a little (he has a thing for tits and milk, okay?) but he wouldn't try anything at that moment on the contrary he would try to hide it.

"You're so pretty little girl... look at that little nose and those round cheeks... you're so precious sweetheart... just like your mommy"

Yandere Sugar Daddy Link

Another one who wants to have two kids, only he wants to have a pair a boy and a girl, no more kids, just two. Not one more, not one less. I think he would have favoritism with his girl and the boy would be more attached to you as a result.

He would get jealous, he doesn't even want to hide it, although he would be more mean if the one you were breastfeeding was the boy, he would stare from the leather chair right in front of you, watch you rub the baby's head while he eats and make comments like "You don't rub my head when I suck on your boobs, don't rub his head either" or "You know there are high end milks on the market made from breast milk, why don't we try giving him that instead of your milk?" if you scold him or look at him the wrong way he would throw up his hands in surrender and say in an offended voice.

"Hey! Don't look at me like that! You should be grateful that I care, that brat will make your tits sag!"

[gf2bellamy]

hiii!

i was wondering if you could write spencer x reader, where she’s having a really bad day but spencer is coming home from a case and is exhausted, mentally and physically so she feels guilty that she would bother him with her mood

So she just hides away and is on the verge of a panic attack and spencer finds her and is all “you save me, so pls let me save you” and just comforts her (and calls her angel because 🫠)

thankyouuu so much (you dont have to do it if you dont want! no pressure at all!) i love your writing, it’s so incredibly cute and endearing <3

exhaustion — spencer reid

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader ( no use of y/n ) content warnings: reader crying a lot , reader feeling guilty / tired / exhausted, spencer calls reader angel a/n: hii thank you so much for your request !! i hope you like this <3

The apartment was quiet—too quiet. You sat on the couch, curled up in one corner, staring blankly at the empty space in front of you. The TV was off, the big overhead light was off, and the only light came from the small lamp on the side table.

You hadn’t moved in what felt like hours, your mind swirling with the events of the day. It had been one of those days—the kind where nothing went right, where every little thing seemed to pile up until you felt like you were drowning under the weight of it all. 

You missed Spencer. A lot. Especially right now.

He had a way of making everything feel better. You longed for his comforting hugs and the way he’d listen to you ramble about your day.

But he wasn’t here. He was at work, buried under mountains of paperwork and case files.

The sound of keys jingling in the lock snapped you out of your thoughts. You jumped up from the couch, your heart leaping in your chest as you hurried to the door.

Spencer stepped inside, looking disheveled and exhausted. His tie was loosened, his hair was a mess, and there were dark circles under his eyes. He dropped his bag by the door with a heavy thud, and before you could say a word, he pulled you into a tight hug. 

You melted into his embrace, your arms wrapping around his neck as you buried your face in his shoulder. He smelled like coffee and faintly of paper. For a moment, you just stood there, holding each other.

“I missed you,” Spencer mumbled into your hair, his voice muffled but sincere. His hands rubbed soothing circles on your back.

“I missed you too,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. You didn’t want to let go, but after a moment, he pulled back slightly, his hands moving to cradle your face. His thumbs brushed gently over your cheeks.

“Today was horrible,” he said with a sigh, his shoulders slumping as he let go of you to shrug off his jacket. He ran a hand through his hair, looking more tired than you’d seen him in a long time. 

You bit your lip, hesitating. “What happened?” you asked softly, following him as he moved further into the apartment. 

He sighed again, sinking onto the couch and leaning forward, his elbows resting on his knees. “Just… paperwork. So much paperwork. And then Garcia’s computer crashed, so we lost half the files we needed, and Hotch wanted everything reorganized by tomorrow morning…” He trailed off, shaking his head. “It was just one thing after another.” 

You sat down next to him, your heart aching as you watched him. He looked so drained, so unlike his usual self, and you felt a pang of guilt for even thinking about burdening him with your own problems.

Today had been hard for you, but it sounded like it had been even harder for him. The last thing you wanted was to add to his stress. 

So instead of talking about your day, you reached out and took his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. “I’m sorry,” you said quietly. “That sounds awful.” 

He gave you a small, tired smile, his fingers intertwining with yours. “It’s okay. It’s just… one of those days, you know?” 

You nodded, your throat tightening. You did know.

But you couldn’t bring yourself to tell him. Instead, you shifted closer, pulling him into another hug. He leaned into you, his head resting on your shoulder as you ran your fingers through his hair. 

“How was your day?” Spencer mumbled, his voice soft and drowsy as he leaned back against the couch, pulling you with him.

You settled against his side, his head still resting on your shoulder as your fingers continued to gently card through his hair.

The question caught you off guard, and you hesitated for a moment, your hand stilling briefly before you forced yourself to keep moving. 

“It was… good,” you said, your voice carefully neutral. You tried to inject a note of cheerfulness into your tone, but it came out sounding hollow, even to your own ears. 

Spencer hummed against your shoulder, seemingly too tired to notice the slight falter in your voice. “I’m glad,” he murmured, his words muffled as he nuzzled closer to you. His warmth was comforting, but it did little to ease the tightness in your chest. 

After a moment, he shifted, pressing a soft kiss to your temple before slowly sitting up. “I’m going to get changed,” he said, his voice still heavy with exhaustion.

He gave your hand a gentle squeeze before standing and heading toward the bedroom, leaving you alone on the couch. 

As soon as he was out of sight, the lump in your throat returned, thicker and more suffocating than before. You bit your lip hard, trying to hold back the tears that had been threatening to spill all evening.

But it was no use. The dam broke, and before you could stop yourself, you were on your feet, hurrying toward the bathroom. 

You shut the door behind you with a soft click, leaning against it as the first tear slipped down your cheek. Then another. And another.

Soon, you were crying , your shoulders shaking as you tried to stifle the sobs that threatened to escape. You muttered curses under your breath, frustrated with yourself for not being able to hold it together. 

“Get it together,” you whispered harshly, pressing the heels of your hands against your eyes. But the tears wouldn’t stop.

The tears kept running, your shoulders shaking as you tried to stifle the sobs that threatened to escape.

You felt like a mess, your face hot and your chest tight. But just as you were about to try to pull yourself together, you heard footsteps outside the bathroom door, followed by a soft knock. 

“Hey,” Spencer’s voice came through the door, gentle and concerned. “Can I come in?” 

You froze, your breath catching in your throat. You didn’t know what to do. Part of you wanted to tell him to go away, to spare him from seeing you like this, but another part of you desperately needed him.

You muttered a curse under your breath, wiping at your face with the back of your hand before slowly getting to your feet. 

You opened the door just enough to peek out, your eyes meeting Spencer’s. He was standing there, his expression soft but worried. His hair was still a mess, but his eyes were focused entirely on you. 

“Hey, hey,” he said immediately, stepping closer. “What’s wrong?” 

You sniffled, your throat tightening as you tried to find the words. “I—” you started, but your voice broke, and you shook your head, unable to continue.

How could you even begin to explain? Everything was wrong. The entire day had been wrong, and now you felt like you were falling apart. 

Spencer didn’t push. Instead, he reached out, his thumb brushing gently over your cheek, wiping away a tear. His touch was so tender that it only made you cry harder.

“Come on,” he said softly, his hand slipping down to take yours. He gave it a gentle squeeze before pulling you with him, leading you out of the bathroom and down the hallway. 

You followed him numbly, your fingers intertwined with his as he guided you to the bedroom. He sat you down on the edge of the bed and knelt in front of you, his hands resting on your knees as he looked up at you, his eyes searching yours. 

“Talk to me, angel,” he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. “What’s going on?” 

The nickname made your heart ache, and you shook your head, fresh tears spilling over. “I didn’t want to bother you,” you admitted, your voice trembling. “You had such a bad day, and I didn’t want to make it worse.” 

Spencer’s expression softened, his hands moving to cradle your face. “You could never make my day worse,” he said firmly, his tone leaving no room for argument. “And you’re never a bother. Not to me. Not ever.” 

You shook your head again, your hands gripping his wrists as you tried to steady yourself. “But you were so tired, and I didn’t want to—” 

“Hey,” he interrupted gently, his thumbs brushing away your tears. “You save me, I save you. That’s how this works, remember?” 

You nodded slowly, your breath hitching as more tears spilled over by just hearing those sweet words. Spencer leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead before pulling you into his arms.

You went willingly, burying your face in his shoulder as he held you close. His hands rubbed soothing circles on your back, and you felt some of the tension in your chest begin to ease. After a while he slowly let go, but his hands remaining on your arms.

“Tell me about your day,” he said after a while, his voice soft but insistent. “What happened?” 

You hesitated, but the way he was looking at you—so patient, so understanding—made it impossible to hold back. So you told him. You told him about everything that had gone wrong.

And he listened, his hands never leaving yours, his eyes never wavering from yours. 

When you were done, he pulled you into his arms again, holding you tightly against his chest. “I’m sorry,” he murmured, his voice low and steady. “I’m sorry you had such a bad day. But I’m here now, okay? And I’m not going anywhere.” 

You nodded, your face buried in his shoulder as you clung to him. For the first time all day, you felt like you could breathe again. Like maybe, just maybe, everything would be okay. 

“Thank you,” you whispered, your voice muffled against his shirt. 

Spencer pressed a kiss to the top of your head, his arms tightening around you. “Always, angel,” he said softly. “Always.” 

[little-miss-dilf-lover]

hiii omg I love your stuff!! my eyeballs popped out my head when I saw you're writing for bucky I'm sooo head over heels for him. he look so fine in the new thunderbolts run😩

could I maybe request a lil bucky sneaking into your room at night in between his missions or smth for a quickie? 🙈 even though he's busy more than half the time, he still finds a moment or two to spend a heated moment with you; bc he misses you so much and can barely keep his hands off

tysm in advance omg omg

hii angel!! aah thank you sm🫠 tehe I know!?? love it, thank you for requesting, hope you like it💌

FIFTEEN MINUTES.

bucky barnes x fem!reader

word count. 1115

warnings. 18+ only !! tiny bit of prep (f receiving) unprotected pinv, creampie. mdni

Nights at the compound were far from quiet; the constant opening and closing of doors, scattered footsteps, echoed voices - everyone on different sleep schedules.

You were in your room settling down for the night, lying in bed and listening to music, scrolling through your phone when you hear the sound of scuffling from behind your door - the silhouette of booted feet appearing under the gap. 

Unplugging your earphones, you sit up, noticing the familiar leather from under the slither of light. You fling off your covers and rush for the door, face lighting up when you see who is on the other side. 

"Bucky?!" you blurt out, clearly happy to see him. "What are you doing back so soon?" you ask, tone elated. 

His smile widens, grinning boyishly at you. "Came back before heading out again," he shrugs casually, speaking as if it were all that easy. "...was missing you," he admits, eyes diverting away bashfully. 

Your head tilts to the side, nose scrunching from his sweet confession. "I missed you," you widen your door, silently inviting him inside. "Only a little bit," you add, expression mirroring his.

Bucky steps into your room and shuts the door behind himself, closing the distance between you with a brisk step forward - leaning in to kiss you, soft and sweet. His hands settle on your waist, fingers sliding under the fabric of your t-shirt to feel your skin - flesh warm and comforting against his.

You rest your hands over the sides of his face, palms cupping his cheeks as the kiss grows more desperate. Carnal. "How long til you leave?" you ask, voice muffled against his lips, your words sounding needy. 

"Fifteen minutes." 

He walks you backwards, heading for your bed, his hands eagerly roaming you as he lays you against the edge of the mattress, slotting his lower half between your spread legs. He hovers above you, his cock growing hard and strained behind his pants, bulge nudging up into that warm spot between your thighs. 

"We can make that work," you reply, a slight whine to your tone.

He hums, far too entranced by how you feel against him to respond coherently. The rush of blood swelling to his cock, leaving his brain. Bucky peels from your grasp and stands between your spread legs, looking down at the lewd image of you - lips bruised and plumped, eyes half-lidded, t-shirt exposing the underneath of your pretty tits. 

He loved how you usually looked, but this was just on another level - you obscenely desperate for him and him only. Your eager eyes following his every move, looking over him like you couldn't get enough.

Your gaze hones in on his hands, watching him undo the button of his pants, his fingers slipping down the front, pulling his hardened dick from behind the waistband. You follow suit, urgently pulling down your pyjama bottoms and flinging them aside - leaving you in only an oversized tee, lying near naked under his fully clothed self.

His left metal hand takes hold of his cock, leisurely rolling it in his palm as his other reaches between your thighs - fleshed middle finger sliding up and down the slit of your pussy. Fingerpad circling over your clit ever so deliciously, mindlessly rubbing the sensitive nub.

"We don't have long, James," you say softly, hand reaching for his wrist, fingers wrapping around his meaty lower arm.

He slips off his jacket, revealing a black compression top underneath. He stands between your legs, blissfully unaware of how good he looks right now - tight, short-sleeved top, black combat pants pooling around his thighs, pretty dick exposed and on display. 

"Wish we had longer," he murmurs, itching himself closer.

"You're back in two days, right?" you say, instinctively adjusting your hips - widening your thighs to accustom his frame.

He pushes his head through the slick of your cunt, coating the tip in a soft, creaming sheen. He hums in response, his thumb resting atop his cock as he guides himself into you, easing through your fluttering walls. 

He leans over you once more, weight anchored on his hands either side of your head, dick sinking into you so nicely - just you taking him so well.

You reach up to cup his cheeks, holding his face in your hands as you maintain his gaze, your features growing pliant under his attention - eyes softening, brows knitting, expression mirroring his. You meet in the middle, lips clashing eagerly. 

"Can't you pretend to be sick?" you murmur against his mouth, speaking desperately.

He slowly begins to wind his hips into you, cock consuming you from the inside out. "I can try to get out of it," he replies, his voice hoarse and strained from the way you wrap yourself around him.

"Please do," you whisper, latching your lips back onto his - kissing him hard, moans muffling.

"Why?" he whispers back, a soft smile lining his lips. "Do you miss me?"

"No." 

"No?" 

You faintly shake your head, eyes playful and unconvincing. "No." 

He plays along. "Neither do I."

Bucky continues like that, fucking into you, his leisured pace growing rushed by the second, winding into you more ruthlessly than he would've liked. Usually, he would take the time to work you up - make love to you, kiss and touch and caress you, but with the minutes growing shorter and shorter, less and less, he had to switch it up. 

It doesn't take long for you both to cum, your climax hitting you hard; his cock almost choking you, repeatedly knocking the air out of your lungs. His release follows mere moments later, spilling his warm, thick load - sloppily pumping it into you. 

His forehead rests against yours, both of your breathing erratic, slowly beginning to even out. "Sorry, my love. I got to go," he whispers apologeticly, pressing a kiss to your hairline. 

Sweetly nodding as you push his stray hairs back, looking at him with a knowing expression he's grown familiar with. 

He kisses you once more and peels himself from you, standing back between your thighs - dressing back up. He looks down at you, eyes raking over you as if to savour the image, memorising you before he goes. 

Adjusting your t-shirt, you follow after him, the patter of your bare feet trailing after him like a shadow. He reaches for the handle and turns back to face you, his soft, gentle eyes filled with warmth. 

"I'll call you when I land," he smiles, speaking like he's reading your mind. 

"Be careful, yeah?" you reach up, meeting his initiation for kiss.

"I always am."

[starryylies]

What about Si with a reader who's giving him the silent treatment? I feel like at first he'd be like "fine whatever" but after like 10 minutes he begs his princess to talk to him

Silent treatment and Simon

Hii thank you sm for the ask! I loved writing it <33

Sorry if it got a bit self indulgent though.

It’s heavy on comfort so hope you enjoy!

You’ve been ‘off’ Simon could tell something’s going on but he couldn’t pin point why it’s going wrong.

Youve been ignoring him since he came home that night after his deployment, giving him short and curt greetings and replies a contrast to your sweet and elaborated ones.

He thought he’d let you deal with whatever you’re going through without butting in.

But no,

Just no

He couldn’t stand there and watch his baby look so down,

He couldn’t stand not hearing your sweet voice echo in the room.

He couldn’t stand the thought that you’re getting tired of him.

He was an overthinking wreck,

All possible ideas came to his mind as to why you’re ignoring him.

“Maybe she’s tired of me, ‘m a fucking mess aren’t I.”

“Maybe she found someone else, someone her own age. Nah fuck no, she wouldn’t do that. Would she..?”

His mind was going on overdrive and he broke down.

And now he found himself marching up to your shared room where you sat on your bed watching a movie.

He turned off the movie and put you on his lap.

“Love what’s happenin’ whys my baby ignoring me huh? Did I do somethin’ wrong?”

“Are ya tired of me?”

He croaked out the last question, tears welling up in his eyes.

You looked at Simon as if you’d seen a ghost

“You really think I’ll be tired of you? I’m here thinking yr’ gonna be tired of me” you confessed with tears welling up in your eyes now.

“It’s just that, I know I can be a piece of work sometimes. I probably just make life harder for ya so I thought maybe keeping my mouth shut wouldn’t annoy ya like I annoy others.”

Simon is hurt to hear you say that, how could you think you annoy him. He fights to come home so he can listen to your sweet voice and look at that pretty face.

And who the fuck told you you’re annoying?

He holds it in him to ask that later because he doesn’t want to stray from the conversation going on but he makes a mental note to give them a personal visit when you’re done

“I don’t even know why you’re with me there’s so many people out there who are better, prettier, more competent.”

“I’m nothing si,I’m not the girl you make me out to be. I’m so scared of the day you start seeing me the way I see myself”

Simon felt his heart break in pieces when he heard you say such cruel things about yourself.

How could he feel okay when the love of his life thought so badly about herself

How could he show you you’re the prettiest and the only woman that matters in his life

“Ya fucking stupid?”

He asked curtly, regretting his harsh words the second he spit them out.

“Excuse me?”

“No genuinely are ya fucking stupid, you fucking think I’ll get tired of you- the first and the only thing that’s ever mattered to me?”

“Fuckin’ hell lovie you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve seen and yr’ important person in my life.”

“Ya think you make life tougher for me? Ever since you’ve come in my life you’ve made it liveable, you made life seem something worth experiencing, I was just blood and guns before I met you, now I’m a person”

“Fuck id kill for you, die for you, do anything for you. You seriously believe I’ll ever get tired of ya? Because if you do I’m sorry to say you’re a fuckin’ idiot”

Tears prickle down your face as you hear his confession,

You’ve been feeling so insecure, so incapable and so unlovable these past months when simon was away, you’d forgotten how much he loves you.

You cried into his chest, gripping onto him and nestling yourself in his arms.

His beefy arms rubbed your back as he cood at you, telling you how much he loves ya and how he will never get tired of you.

[gay-dorito-dust]

hii!! I don't know if your requests are open but I love the way you write for the Batboys so I thought I'd request something ^-^

The batboys reacting to their s/o not saying "I love you" back when they end a call. This tiktok for reference.

(In case the link doesn't work https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZTLW4JWj1/)

Idk if you'll see this but thank you!!

Dick

‘I’ll see you soon honey, I love you.’ Dick said on the other side of the phone.

‘See you soon, bye.’ You said cheerfully as you hung up the phone, trying your hardest not to break down with laughter. You could clearly see Dick’s face within your mind, looking down at his phone with the expression of a confused husky dog, head tilted to the side and a pout spread across his face.

For not once had you ever not said ‘I love you’ to Dick when ending a phone call, even when you were annoyed with him you still told him that you loved him, so this was completely out of the ordinary for you and you knew that Dick knew that too.

Which is why he was quick to call you back.

‘Hi! Yeah this is your BOYFRIEND speaking, you know the one you love and are devoted to loving for all of eternity, so do you not love me anymore now or?’

‘Of course I do what makes you think that sweetheart?’ You asked, trying not to laugh at Dick’s dramatics.

‘Well it doesn’t sound like it.’ You could practically hear him huffing. ‘I just want to be loved is that so much to ask for?’ He asks rhetorically.

‘Dick, you’re being dramatic.’ You tell him and he gasps on the other side. ‘Me dramatic? Never! All I ask is for my beautiful, stunning and perfect partner to say they love me before I go kick some ass, but no I’m asking too much apparently.’ Dick then huffs. ‘How mean.’ You heard him mutter under his breath.

‘Fine I love you! I love you very much so go kick all the asses for my honey! I love, love, love you!’ You practically shouted down the phone. ‘How was that for you mr dramatic?’ You add.

‘Mr dramatic loves you too very much.’ Was all he said before hanging up.

Dick never liked it when you didn’t say I love you, he gets very upset and doesn’t want to do anything else until you concede and tell him you love him as though your life depended on it. He was indeed a dramatic man.

Tim

‘Don’t stay up too late for me, I’ll be home soon I love you.’ He said.

‘Okay bye.’ Was all you replied with before hanging up the phone.

Tim knew damn well you weren’t doing much but hold back your laughter when you put down the phone after not saying ‘I love you’ like you normally did, and so through the process of elimination did Tim eventually come to the conclusion that this was all an elaborate prank.

‘I know this is a prank, you can cut it out now.’ Tim tells you the moment you picked up the phone.

‘Prank? Why would you think this is a prank?’ You asked.

‘You’ve not once forgot to tell me you love me in our past calls, so for you to do it now only is an indication of two things, one it’s a prank or I’ve done something wrong.’ He told you with certainty in his deduction.

You raised a brow. ‘And what makes you think that you didn’t do something wrong and I’m not mad at you?’ You were the one to ask this time as you could practically hear him think.

‘Because I didn’t.’ Was his only reply and you couldn’t help but giggle as you ask again. ‘Are you sure?’

Silence for a couple of second were what you were greeted with before being greeted with a ‘I’m a hundred percent certain.’

You sighed. ‘You’re right, it’s a prank, I’m sorry but I hope this I love you will set things right. So here it is: I love you Tim Drake.’

More silence and you were worried for a second before you heard him say ‘I love you too, don’t stay up too late for me please, we both can’t be sleep deprived that’s only reserved for me.’

Tim knew, he always does so there’s no point trying to prank him because he’ll know unless he’s caught off guard, though he won’t tell you is that he nearly shit himself when you didn’t and though he did something when he begin to think logically.

Jason

‘Okay I’ve got to head out on patrol now with Roy, I’ll see you as soon as I’m done chipmunk, I love you.’

‘See you soon jaybirdie, bye.’ You replied before quickly putting the phone done but as soon as you did, mentally counting down from three and when you got to one, your phone flashed with Jason’s contact almost immediately.

You knew he wasn’t going to let that slide once you started this little prank and he played right into your hands.

‘What was that.’ He asks.

‘What was what.’ You replied, acting as though you were confused.

‘You know what, the whole not saying I love you. it’s kind of out thing and so for you to not saying it is kinda throwing me off my grove, and Roy won’t stop saying how much of a simp I am. What even is a simp anyway?’ You couldn’t help but feel your smile grow wider at Jason’s rant and let out a small chuckle.

‘I’m sure Roy can tell you what a simp is, but I don’t see how me not saying I love you once is enough to throw you complete of your game.’ You replied as you could almost hear Roy laugh.

Jason sighs and you could imagine him rubbing his forehead. ‘Can you, can you just say it so I’m not thinking about it for the rest of the night, I don’t feel like bleeding out on our bathroom floor tonight.’ He says and you couldn’t help but feel yourself bend to his will a little before completely yielding entirely.

‘Fine, if it’ll make you feel better, I love you.’ You said and you could tell that took the weight off of his shoulders.

‘Thanks chipmunk, I love you.’ He said before hanging up, finally content to see the patrol through with a clear mind.

Needless to say Jason internally overthought himself when you didn’t say I love you once, it nearly drove the poor man insane and into doing something reckless. So it was good that you did say it when you did.

[requiemforthepoets]

hii do you write for franco? if yes can i request a fic where reader is short and insecure about her height so she’s afraid their relationship won’t survive his “f1 career” cause of the lifestyle and all the girls he’s going to meet so despite really loving him she tries to breakup with him but he won’t let her?

tell me that you’re still mine, tell me that we’ll be just fine 𖦹 FC43

PAIRINGS: franco colapinto x female!reader

SUMMARY: when you found out that franco will be racing for williams racing, you were so proud of him. though at the back of your mind, you can’t help but overthink about your relationship with him now that he’s finally in f1.

AUTHOR’S NOTE: hi! thank you so much for sending your request. it’s my first time writing for franco, but i really had fun. i hope you’ll like this one and it’s up to what you were expecting. enjoy! :)

REMINDERS: this is purely fiction, the way how the character is portrayed in my story does not reflect the person that is portraying my character in real life. always separate fiction from reality, and do not repost or copy my work in any way.

WORD COUNT: 1.6k

WARNINGS: not proofread, typos, insecurities (mostly comparing self to others), cursing, low self esteem, overthinking, anxiety, and no use of y/n

As you stand in the Williams garage, you can clearly hear the hum of the whole circuit buzzing all around, and you can’t help but feel so proud. Franco had just achieved what he had been dreaming of since childhood—his first official race in Formula 1. It should have been one of the happiest moments of your life, watching him stand there, helmet in hand, chatting animatedly with the engineers, that wide grin plastered on his face. You knew how hard he worked for this, how many nights you spent listening to his dreams, encouraging him through the frustrations of karting, and celebrating every win, every milestone. You were there through it all, and here he was now—your Franco, living his dream.

However, alongside the pride that you were feeling, a bitter feeling also crept in. It had been lurking at the back of your mind for days now, only growing stronger with each passing moment. It was not about Franco’s career, but more about where you fit into his new world. The glitz and glamor, cameras that seemed to follow every move, the polished and perfect people that surrounded him—people you had never imagined yourself fitting in with.

Lily, Alex’s girlfriend, had been nothing but sweet to you all weekend. You bonded with her quickly, her kind words and warmth is a welcoming comfort amidst the chaos. Yet, as much as you liked her, being around someone so gorgeous and effortlessly poised had only made you feel even smaller. You weren’t tall or glamorous like her or the other WAGs, nor were you used to the attention, and you barely have a successful career. You were just…you. A university student trying to get by through her classes, someone who barely knew what to do when a camera pointed your way, and someone who couldn’t help but wonder if you were truly cut out for this kind of life.

When Franco finally made his way back to you, you could hardly breathe. He greeted you with that same wide smile and a soft tender kiss on the lips, his eyes still sparkling from the thrill of the race.

“Can you believe it?” He laughed, pulling you into a hug. “I can’t believe I just raced in F1. This is really insane.”

You smiled weakly, arms wrapped around him. Trying to steady your racing heart. “I’m so proud of you,” you murmured against his chest. But the words felt heavy, there was something you needed to say, something you dreaded.

After the media frenzy died down and the team began to clear out, you knew it was time. You asked Franco if the two of you can go to his driver’s room, away from the lights, cameras, and the noise. He nodded and led you towards his driver’s room, completely oblivious to the storm brewing inside of you.

When you reached his driver’s room, he locked the room to give you two some privacy. Franco quickly sensed that something was off with you, immediately frowning.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, as your hands shook as you fumbled with the words. “Franco…I don’t know if I can do this.”

“Do what?” His voice is gentle but confused.

“This. All of this.” You gestured around vaguely. “I don’t belong in this kind of world. I don’t look like the other girls in this kind environment, I don’t act like them. I just feel like…I’m not cut out for this, you know. For you.”

He blinked at you, and then—he laughed. A soft incredulous sound that only made your chest tighten. “You’re joking, right?” But you just shook your head, throat tightening painfully. “I’m serious, Franco.”

His smile faltered, eyes searching your face, and then he grew serious. “You’re breaking up with me?” He sounded like he couldn’t believe what he was hearing at all.

You bit your lip, feeling your resolve crack under the weight of his words. “I think I have to.”

Franco stepped closer, shaking his head in disbelief. “No. No way. Hell no. You’re not doing this.” He grabbed your hands, holding them tightly. “Tell me why. What’s really going on?”

You stared at the ground, unable to meet his eyes. How could you even tell him? How could you put into words the overwhelming insecurities that you had been drowning in.

“I’m not enough for this life, for your life,” you whispered, voice barely audible. “I’m just…me. You deserve someone who can handle all of this, someone who doesn’t feel like they are drowning every time the cameras turn their way. I’m scared that this will change us, that it will change you.”

Franco squeezed your hands tighter, forcing you to look at him. “You’re scared?” He asked softly. “Of what exactly? That I’ll stop loving you because I’m in F1 now?”

You nodded, chest tightening as tears began to fill your eyes. “I’m not like them, Franco. I don’t belong here.”

He pulled you into his arms, resting his chin on top of your head. “Listen to me, and you listen well,” he whispered. “You’ve been with me through everything, literally everything. Since my karting days. You’re the one I want with me, not some random model, not someone from this kind of environment. You.” He gently cupped your face, making sure that you were looking directly into his eyes. “I’m not breaking up with you. Not because of this, not because of anything. I love you so much. If this life makes you uncomfortable, we’ll figure it out. Together.”

You shook your head, still overwhelmed with doubts. “But I don’t know how to—”

“I don’t care,” he interrupted softly. “I don’t really care about any of that. All I care about is you. I’m not losing you just because you think that you’re not enough. You’ve always been more than enough for me.”

Tears finally spilled over, and Franco wiped them away with his thumb. “You’re not getting rid of me that easily, okay?” He added.

You let out a choked laugh, burying your face in his chest. “Okay,” you whispered, feeling the weight of your fears slowly start to lift.

Franco kissed the top of your head as he kept you close, his voice soft but firm. “Look at me,” he said, lifting your chin so your eyes met his. “There’s no one else I see in my future but you. No one else who matters like you do. I don’t care about the noise or what other people say. Let them talk all they want, I don’t give a shit. You’re the most important person in my life.”

His words wrapped around you like a warm blanket chasing away the chill of insecurity. You couldn’t help the way your heart fluttered, how much you wanted to believe him. “But people will judge, Franco. They already are.”

Franco shook his head, brushing a strand of hair away from your face. “I don’t care about them. They don’t know you like I do. I’ve seen you at your best and your worst, and I’ve loved you through it all. That’s what matters, not their opinions.”

You bit your lip, trying to push away the lingering doubts. “It’s just I don’t want to hold you back. You deserve someone who—”

“I already have someone I deserve,” he cut you off, voice unwavering. “You’ve been there for me through everything, you believed in me when no one else did, even when I wasn’t sure I believed in myself. I’m not letting you go because of some stupid insecurities about fitting in with this world. I don’t need someone from this world. All I need is you.”

Tears welled in your eyes again, but this time they weren’t from doubt or fear. They were from the overwhelming love you felt at that moment. “You’re sure?” You whispered, voice trembling. “You’re really sure?”

Franco smiled, the kind of smile that made everything else melt away. “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life. You’re my future, not them. Not anything else. Just you.”

As you stood there in his arms, you let yourself believe it. Because the way he looked at you, the way he spoke, it left no room for any doubts. You were the one he wanted, and that was enough.

After a long moment of silence, just feeling the comfort of being in his arms, you finally pulled back, wiping the last of your tears and giving him a small and sweet smile. The tension that had been weighing on you had lifted, already been replaced by the familiar warmth you always felt around Franco.

You wrinkled your nose playfully, trying to lighten the mood. “Okay, as sweet as this moment is, you really need to freshen up. You stink.” You teased, giving him a playful nudge.

Franco let out a laugh, the sound light and easy. “What? No way, I smell like pure victory,” he grinned, pulling you back into his arms, purposely trying to rub his post-race sweat on you.

“Franco!” You squealed, trying to push him away. “Ew, Franco! You’re all sweaty!”

He laughed harder, his arms tightening around you for a second before he finally let you go, raising his hands in surrender. “Alright, alright, I’ll go and freshen up,” he said, his grin still wide. “But don’t think I didn’t notice how you were crying on me. If anything, you owe me for that.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help smiling. “Fine, fine. I’ll owe you. Just go clean up before I regret taking you back,” you teased, earning an exaggerated gasp from him.

Franco winked at you before heading off to freshen up, not forgetting to steal a kiss from you. “Don’t go anywhere, I’ve got plans for us to celebrate.” He threw a playful look over his shoulder.

You shook your head with a laugh, feeling lighter than you had in days. The doubts that once felt overwhelming now seemed small in comparison to the love you shared. Franco was right—together, you could figure out everything, just like how you both always do.

[c0s-lettuce]

Hii if it’s okay, can I please request a Sergei x fem!reader where she was walking home and was in the wrong place at the wrong time and witnessed something bad guys were doing and was in danger, but she was saved by Sergei (the bad guys were on his list so he happened to show up). She meets Sergei again when the same bad guys come after her again because she had seen too much, and he saves her again. Because it seems that the bad guys will not stop going after her because of what she saw, Sergei brings her to his cabin to protect her until he has taken out all of the bad guys? He’s super protective of her and she’s really scared about everything that’s going on and feels safe with him, and after a while of staying with him, they both start to fall in love and she doesn’t want to leave even after everything is safe 🥹

guardian angel - sergei kravinoff x fem!reader

word count: 3317

warnings: descriptions of violence, mentions of blood

a/n: thank you for the request! sorry this took a while, i hope i did it justice 😭 happy holidays everyone!

A shortcut. That's all it was supposed to be - a quick detour down an alley. You've taken it a few times before, usually to escape the rain like tonight. It's a light sprinkle. One that might have been pleasant if it wasn't for the dark and your long day at work. Your walks home were, fortunately, mostly uneventful.

But not tonight. You'd blame it on bad luck. Or fate, if such a thing exists.

Unfriendly-sounding voices should have been your first clue to something being amiss. But curiosity drives you forward. Peering through the darkness, you see two figures surrounding a third person kneeling on the ground.

It seems like a confrontation of sorts, a heavily one-sided confrontation. They don't notice you, so you deem this a good moment to leave. You back away as quietly as possible. But as you approach the street, a black car pulls up, blocking the entrance.

The next few moments pass in a blur. There's a scream. A horrific squelching noise. You look back to see the third person now slumped on the ground. A silver glint in the hand of one of the other men. Two more men exit the car. There's shouting from one side, then both. You realise you've been noticed. You panic. Then, chaos.

You're unsure if you fell or were pushed, but you end up on the ground. You scramble away, and your back hits the wall of the alleyway. Bodies begin to go flying around you. Any attention that was paid to you is diverted. One man is in the middle of it all. He seems to know his way around killing, like a hunter.

Your front-row show is interrupted when you're dragged to your feet. A cold barrel is pressed against your temple. You freeze as you're held hostage. The hunter pauses and turns to you. Four bodies now lay dead, all killed in different ways. The man holding you is the only one left.

"Enough. Stop now, or the girl dies," the voice behind you speaks.

You notice that despite the man's intimidation, fear laces his tone. It's a mutual feeling as you stand silent and wide-eyed, afraid to move. The hunter raises his hands as if surrendering. You're not sure what to make of it.

But you don't get given the time to decide. In the blink of an eye, the hunter pulls out a knife, flicks it out and throws it towards your head. For a split second, you think it's all over. You squeeze your eyes shut. Either by bullet or blade, this is the end for you.

But then, the man's grip around you loosens, followed promptly by a dull thump. You turn around to see what happened. The man lies on the ground, a knife protruding from him square in the eye. Blood begins to pull around his head.

You bring your hands to your mouth and back away from the body. The sight is unlike anything you've seen. You're stuck between screaming, throwing up or passing out, but a voice from behind interrupts you.

"Are you hurt?" it asks, gruff and breathless.

You flinch at the sound. You turn back to look at the owner of the voice. The hunter stands before you, covered in the odd splatter of blood, hair and clothes mussed. You stare for a moment, bewildered.

Once you find your bearings, you reply, "Uh, no… no, I'm alright."

He nods, walking past you to retrieve his knife. The sound of the blade leaving the man's head makes you cringe.

"Sorry," he says, cleaning the knife on the man's clothes, "I would've warned you before I threw it, but that might have defeated the purpose."

You don't respond. Was that… a joke? What are you supposed to say to that?

In your silence, the hunter looks at you again. "You live around here?"

Again, it takes you a moment to answer. "Yeah, just a few blocks away."

"You should get home," he tells you, standing up. "Forget you saw anything."

You nod. That sounds like a good idea. A great idea, even. You force yourself to move, deciding on the regular route home instead of continuing this shortcut.

The hunter watches you pass but speaks up again before you get too far. "I'm sorry you had to see all that."

You pause, taking in his… somewhat considerate words. You glance back at him and mutter, "Thank you."

Once again, he nods, sighing as he looks down at the bodies. You turn away again and continue your way home. The journey passes in a haze, and you immediately go to bed once you arrive.

As days pass, that night feels like a fever dream. Details don't come to you, with everything being a messy blur in your head. It was probably a good thing. However, the only part that remains clear is the elusive hunter.

A tall, muscular frame. Wavy, brown hair. Bright, blue eyes.

You clear your head of these thoughts as you stand and pack up your things. You're the last person left in your work building today, having stayed late to finish some extra work.

Just as you're about to head downstairs, you hear a loud crash. It's followed by more sounds, a mix of grunts, thumps and things breaking. You look around but can't see anything from where you are.

You grow anxious and search your desk for a weapon. You settle on a large paperweight, gripping it firmly and sneaking out. You bypass the elevators and go to the emergency staircase, carefully opening the door and ensuring it's empty inside before slowly heading down.

The sounds have stopped once you reach the bottom. You poke your head out, giving an obscured view of the ground floor. As expected, it's a mess of broken glass and wood. Crimson paints the floor, blood coming from three bodies. There's one man left standing. You recognise him immediately. The hunter.

You let your guard down, lowering the paperweight in your hands. You step out and look around again, getting a better look at the damage. You feel bad for whoever has to pay for all this. You turn to the hunter. He's already looking at you.

"It's you," you say.

"It's me," he replies. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah, completely fine. You?" you ask.

"I'm good," he says, looking around at the mess. "We should stop meeting like this."

You let out a small huff. "You're telling me. Who are these people?"

"They're part of a large criminal organisation. Their influence runs deep. They have people all over the continent."

"Criminal organisation…? Why are they here?"

"You saw them kill someone. You're a liability."

"They were here for me? But didn't you kill everyone who saw me?"

"They have eyes and ears everywhere. Must've found out some other way."

The thought unsettles you, and you sincerely hope you won't regularly be pursued by criminals. Suddenly, you miss the comfort of your home.

Then, the hunter speaks up. "I'm Sergei, by the way."

You're slightly caught off guard. But you tell him your name, and he repeats it with a nod.

"You should get going," he says. "The police will be here soon. I'll handle things here."

"Are you sure? This is my workplace."

"I'm sure. Go," he insists.

You acquiesce, collecting your things again. Before you leave, you and Sergei exchange contact details. He tells you to call him if anything happens. Once again, you find yourself walking away from the hunter and a pile of dead bodies he saved you from. But at least now you know his name.

You've been home for the past few days since the building became a crime scene. You gave the police a vague description of what happened, and they haven't bothered you since.

You think about the hunter, who you now know to be Sergei Kravinoff. A Google search and some light stalking didn't reveal much about the man. And with no work to do, you continue to lie around at home.

But one morning, you wake up to a phone call. It's Sergei.

"Hello?" you answer.

"Where are you right now?" he asks immediately.

"At home. Why?" you say.

"Hard to explain, but you're in danger. I'm going to send you a location. I need you to go there. I'll have someone meet you."

He hangs up before you can get another word in. Seconds later, he sends the location for a terminal at the airport. Despite the abruptness and absurdity, his words worry you, so you quickly pack a small bag and head to the airport.

A dark-haired woman greets you at the terminal. You board the small aircraft landed there as she takes the pilot seat. She answers a few of the many questions you have. Sergei has been in different parts of Europe to eliminate this criminal organisation. It seems you have not left the group's radar because they had your address. Afraid they're planning on tying up loose ends, Sergei asks you to go to his safe house in Russia.

Great, you think. This is a totally regular occurrence.

It's a long flight. After hours, you finally arrive, landing on a secluded airstrip surrounded by bush and mountains. Sergei waits for you outside, approaching the aircraft as the door opens.

"Thanks for trusting me," he speaks over the noise of the aircraft.

"Well, you've given me enough reason to," you tell him.

"I'm sorry it had to come to this," he says.

"Don't be," you reply.

He gives you a grateful nod as he gestures with his head. "Follow me."

He leads you away from the runway. The landscape turns forest-like as you walk along a trail. You look around at the surprisingly picturesque view despite the strange circumstances you're in.

"So, what is this place?" you ask.

"I live here most of the time," Sergei explains. "This property used to belong to my mother's family. It's pretty much all I have left of her now."

"Right," you reply. "And do you make a habit of bringing many women out here in the middle of nowhere?"

He shrugs. "Just the ones whose lives are threatened by criminals."

"…Is that a lot?" you ask.

Sergei smirks, leaving your question unanswered as he picks up the pace. "Come on, it's just ahead."

You watch him go ahead of you, letting out a huff at his non-answer as you try to catch up. After a small trek, Sergei leads you to his cabin. It's a pleasant spot, a geometric glass dome surrounded by shrubbery and nature. There's also a scenic body of water nearby. This place would do great on Airbnb, you think to yourself.

You spend your first evening getting settled in. Sergei tells you he's heading to Romania, so you'll have the cabin all to yourself. He makes sure you have everything you need before leaving. He also advises you not to wander far while he's gone, telling you there are leopards, tigers and bears in the area. Well, there goes your Airbnb pitch.

Later that night, you climb to the loft and get into bed. A stranger's bed. A stranger who has saved your life multiple times, but a stranger nonetheless. It's almost dead silent at night, nothing like back home. The rustle of leaves in the wind and the quiet chirping of insects act as your lullaby.

The glass gives you a perfect view of the starry sky as you lie back. With no light pollution, the sight is nothing to scoff at. And after everything that has happened in the last few days, it doesn't take much longer for you to find respite in sleep.

Sergei calls to check in with you from Transylvania on the second day, asking how you're doing and updating you on the situation. He tells you he's on the home stretch, and it'll all be over once the last few people are weeded out. He stays on the call for just a moment longer to tell you a joke about vampires.

Once he hangs up, it doesn't take long for you to become incredibly bored. You do what you can to entertain yourself. You take pictures of the scenery, snack on whatever is available, take naps, and discreetly poke around through Sergei's belongings.

By day three, there was nothing left to snoop. You've looked at everything, from the fridge to the bathroom cabinet. And more absurdly, from the alchemy station to the weapons collection. Sergei doesn't keep many things around, so there wasn't much you could learn from your nosiness.

You wake to a text on the fourth morning. Sergei tells you the job is finished. He's already on his way to the cabin. You let out a breath at the message. It's done. You're safe.

You look around at the space you've called home for the past few days. A strange feeling claws at the back of your mind. A sense of disappointment. At what, you can't yet place. So, to distract yourself, you spend the day tidying. Closer to the evening, you make dinner to the best of your ability with what's available.

Sergei returns and is greeted with the delicious aroma of your food. The smell is foreign to his cabin, foreign to him. You welcome him back, doing a quick once over. He's weary and battered but otherwise seems to be in good shape. And he's incredibly grateful for the food. It's almost amusing watching him eat, like a cat with a bowl of wet food.

After dinner, he's too tired to do anything or talk about what happens next, so you call it a night. You feel bad making him sleep on the couch. You tell him you don't mind him taking the bed. He agrees as long as you stay as well. Neither one of you bother to argue after that.

He passes out quite quickly, sleeping on his stomach with his head facing away from you. You lie on your side next to him, staring at the back of his head. Spending days doing nothing has made it so you're not all that tired. So, you lie in silence, a million thoughts running through your head.

Now that the situation is handled, Sergei will probably send you packing in the morning. That should be a good thing. You can get back to your home, your friends, your job. No criminals after your head, no fearing for your life. So, why is part of you reluctant to go?

You're pulled from your thoughts when Sergei stirs, yawning as he turns onto his back. He settles back down, and you think he's fallen asleep again until he turns his head towards you.

You meet his gaze, and for a moment, you're unsure what to do. You think about pretending you usually sleep with your eyes open to make up for the staring.

But all that proves unnecessary when he smiles and asks, "You okay?"

"Yeah," you reply. "Just not that tired."

Sergei nods, also turning on his side to face you. "I'm sorry you got caught up in all this."

"No, don't be," you say. "None of it was your fault."

"Still, I know it wasn't ideal, having to deal with something like this. And having to deal with me," he says.

"Dying wouldn't have been ideal," you tell him. "And I've been hiding out here the whole time, doing nothing. If anything, you're like my guardian angel."

He laughs, "That's one way to put it."

You smile back, and the two of you fall into a moment of silence.

"Thanks for looking after the place, by the way," he says.

"What? You mean leeching off of you for four days?" you reply.

He lets out an amused scoff. "I mean for cleaning up and making dinner. Especially the dinner part."

You nod. "It's the least I could do."

"I don't think I've had a proper home-cooked meal in years," he says. "The last time must have been when I still lived with my mother."

You pause for a moment, taking in the information. "No other cooks in the family?"

"No, my father never cooked," he replies. "He would make some poor, overworked chef do it."

You hum in response. "So, you've got low standards? That's a good thing for me then."

Sergei chuckles, appreciating your comment. The two of you stay awake for a while longer. Sergei tells you more about his childhood, his family, the accident that changed him, and his life after he left to be on his own. You also tell him about your past, which paled in comparison to his, but he seemed to appreciate it regardless.

His hand wanders under the sheets as the two of you talk, coming to rest on your waist. His thumb idly strokes your side. He listens to you intently and laughs at any funny parts you share. As his touch grows bolder, he pulls you closer, moving his arm to wrap around you.

You happily accept his embrace. Soon, the warmth of being in his arms and the comforting sound of his voice lull you to sleep. Sergei watches as you drift off. Out like a light. Adorable.

His mind thinks back to the first night you met. He remembers how scared you were, how you looked at him when your life hung in the balance. He felt sorry for you, a poor woman caught up in a mess that wasn't hers.

Sergei doesn't know why you trusted him so quickly, but he's glad you did. He's glad that you're here now with him. He's glad for it all. He realises then how nice it is to have someone to come home to. Someone who cares. Someone he can talk to other than his pilot or his brother.

He wonders what you think. He hopes you feel something similar. You must, right? Though there's a very good chance you think he's a lunatic, and you've just been humouring him. But he tells himself not to overthink, closing his eyes and holding you a little tighter as he waits for sleep.

When you wake in the morning, Sergei is already up, preparing a simple breakfast for the two of you. You eat together, engaging in light conversation. Despite your unspoken reluctance to leave, you know you must return to your life sooner or later.

He helps you pack up after breakfast, and you head to the airstrip. Sergei's pilot picks you both up, and you sleep most of the way back on the aircraft. After a smooth ride, you finally make it back home.

Sergei goes with you all the way back to your place. You open the front door and take a look around. Everything is how you left it, thankfully. Getting back to see your home trashed would have really soured your mood. You step in, place your bag down and let out a sigh. You're ready to continue sleeping, but your stomach rumbling redirects your priority.

Sergei leans against the door frame, watching you. He must have heard the evidence of your hunger because he chuckles. You turn to send him a glare, but he speaks up first.

"If you're up for it, I know a place. Good food, great music," Sergei says.

"Really? I thought you'd be happy to finally get rid of me," you reply.

Sergei snorts, shaking his head. "Quite the opposite, actually. I haven't actually gotten to spend that much time with you."

You're tempted, very tempted. But you pretend not to be. "As long as it's not in the middle of nowhere in a foreign country."

He laughs. "It's not. It's a normal restaurant. I promise."

You let out a sigh, feigning exasperation. "Alright, I trust you."

Sergei grins, pushing himself off the door frame. "Great, let's go."

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