#''sorry did the breeze just brush against my jaw.''

[soombee]

ଳ⋆｡˚𖦹 caught in the current of you — 09 , checkmate !!

warnings ! angst!! decision making!! (LOL)

word count , 1433 / 1.4k words

lf = looking for , i was sooo excited for this chapter to come finally heheehehe… also SORRY IF THIS FEELS FORCED LOLL.. i literally HATE slowburn so much……

9:18 pm — outside a cafe

leehan’s head leaned against the wall near the coffee shop, scrolling through his phone. his last message to you was still unread by you, and his irritation grew with every passing minute

he knew he’d been acting differently lately—sharper, colder—but he couldn’t help it. seeing his ex best friend openly flirt with you on twitter, seeing how much you smiled at his comments, had his jealousy running wild

the bell above the door jingled, and there you were, walking out with taesan by your side, laughing at something he said. he held the door open for you, and leehan’s stomach twisted

“leehan?” your voice broke through his thoughts. you looked surprised to see him, your smile faltering slightly, “what are you doing here?”

“waiting,” he said shortly, shoving his phone into his pocket as he glares at the black haired man beside you

“for who?”

“for you.”

taesan smirked at him, the smugness in his expression barely hidden, not like he wanted to hide it,

“didn’t know you’d be here” taesan said

“i can see that.” leehan’s tone was flat, his eyes flicking between the two of you

“leehan,” you said softly, sensing the tension, “you okay?”

“yeah, fine.” his words were sharp, clipped. too sharp. you frowned

“really? you’ve been acting weird lately..”

“i’m not the one acting weird,” he snapped, his jealousy finally boiling over. “but hey, maybe you and taesan should sort that out since you seem so close these days?”

your jaw dropped, hurt flashing across your face. taesan, to his credit, stayed silent, though his gaze was glued to Leehan with a mixture of anger and disappointment

“are you serious right now?” you asked, your voice trembling. “you’re mad because taesan’s my friend? because he’s kind to me?”

leehan opened his mouth to respond, but no words came out. he hated how defensive he sounded, how he was ruining everything just because he couldn’t handle his own feelings, how he couldn’t even express his feelings

“really?” you said, stepping closer to him, “do you SERIOUSLY think this is what I want? to be caught between the two of you? do you think I enjoy this?”

the blond’s silence was deafening, you shook your head

“oh my god leehan, i can’t do this anymore,” you said, your voice becoming firmer by the second, “you’re so worried about what taesan’s doing, you don’t even see me. he does. he makes me feel seen. and right now, that’s what I need.”

the words hit him like a punch to the gut. he watched as you turned to taesan, who gave him one last look—an unspoken “you did this to yourself” written all over his face—before placing a hand on your back and guiding you away

for the first time, leehan realized he wasn’t just losing you to taesan. he had lost you because of himself

9:30 pm — taesan took you to see the stars

the cold evening breeze nipped at your skin as you walked beside taesan, the streets quiet except for the occasional rustle of leaves. your sweater wasn’t doing much to shield you from the chill, and you shivered involuntarily—so embarrassing..

“youre freezing,” he murmured, stopping in his tracks. before you could protest, he was already tugging his own hoodie over his head, his white t-shirt riding up slightly to reveal a glimpse of his toned abdomen

“oh my gyatt, lord save me #ovulating..”

“taesan, seriously, i’m fine—”

“just take it,” he insisted, gently draping the hoodie over your shoulders. the warmth was immediate, and so was the lingering scent of him—clean, with a faint hint of cologne, “i’d rather me be sick than you”

as you adjusted it around yourself, his hands lightly brushed yours, lingering for a moment too long. when you looked up, his dark eyes were searching your face, his expression soft but resolute

“yn,” he said quietly, stepping closer. “there’s something I need to tell you”

you swallowed hard, already guessing where this was going…

“i didn’t plan for this,” he admitted, running a hand through his hair. “but i can’t keep it to myself anymore. i like you. more than a friend should”

the words hung in the air, heavy but not unwelcome. his confession felt genuine, raw, unpolished in a way that made your heart ache, this was real

“i know this is complicated,” he continued, his voice faltering slightly, “‘specially with…everything else. but I needed you to know how I feel, think you’re the only person i’ve ever been comfortable to be me around..”

you were about to respond when your phone buzzed in your pocket. the sound cut through the moment like a blade, and you fumbled to check the notification

it was a text—from your neighbor,

“hello young lady, i think someone outside your house. he’s been sitting there for a while. do you know him? he has blonde hair”

your stomach dropped

“taesan,” you said, your voice tight, “i—i need to go.”

his brows furrowed, concern flickering across his face, “everything okay?”

you nodded quickly, pecking his cheek before stepping back “yeah, i just… i’ll text you later, okay?”

“i—“ he touched his cheek, hesitated but nodded, “okay... b—be safe”

9:48 pm — your house

when you arrived home, your neighbor’s warning made sense immediately. sitting on the steps to your door, with a box and a folded envelope beside him, was leehan. his head was bowed, his hair slightly messy as though he’d been running his hands through it repeatedly

the sight of him knocked the air out of your lungs

“leehan?” you called softly, your voice carrying through the quiet night

he looked up, startled. the instant his eyes met yours, something in his expression shifted—vulnerability, regret, desperation, all tangled together

“you’re home,” he said, standing quickly and brushing off his jeans. “i—i didn’t mean to stay this long. i just… i wasn’t sure how else to do this.. confessing thingy..”

you glanced at his occupied hands, your heart pounding, “what’s this?”

“a mess, probably,” he said with a shaky laugh, rubbing the back of his neck, “i didnt know how to tell you everything i’ve been feeling without stuttering at the sight of you so I wrote it down. and the gifts… they’re just things that made me think of you… stupid, right haha..” gosh he just couldn’t stop babbling

you shook your head, overwhelmed, “donghyun…”

he stepped closer, his gaze locking onto yours, “i’m sorry, yn. for everything. for being distant, for being jealous, for making you feel like you weren’t enough when you’ve always been too much—in the best way of course”

your throat tightened as he continued, “i don’t deserve you. i know that, but i can’t let you go without even trying”

the weight of his confession pressed against your chest, and you glanced down at the box and letter again, unsure of what to say

“please,” he whispered, his voice breaking slightly, “just… read the letter, and if you still don’t want me after that, i’ll leave you alone. i promise.”

10:44 pm — long after the mess..

you sit at your desk, leehan’s playlist softly playing in the background with his letter unfolded in front of you as taesan’s hoodie draped around your shoulders. the warmth of it is a stark contrast to the chill you feel inside

leehan’s words replay in your mind: “i don’t deserve you… but i can’t let you go without trying.”

and then taesan’s quiet confession from earlier: “I like you. more than a friend should”

your chest feels heavy, torn between the two men

leehan—the boy who frustrated you to no end but also knew you better than anyone else, even in his flaws or taesan—the boy who made you feel seen, who offered a warmth that felt effortless and pure

the two paths stretch in front of you, pulling at your heart in opposite directions

* ding !! * ding !!

you jump, glancing at your phone to see two notifications:

#plottingon (leehan) : did you read the letter? it’s everything i’ve been meaning tell you.. well, some of it.. i had to rush it..

majestic shyt (taesan) : i’m sorry if the confession felt forced, i promise you i’ll tell you more whenever you’re ready, please come and talk to me if you ever feel any discomfort

your heart pounds in your ears. this is it. this is your move.

who do you choose?

do you choose to stay with kim leehan?

or..

do you choose to create a new future with han taesan?

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[lovebugism]

ok reader x eddie having a casual conversation about sex, talking about what they're both into, leading to some smut??? just hearing what eddie's into sounds so hottttt (i imagine its filthy,, sorry)

ty for requesting! hope you like it!! — a failed date with eddie leads to a night in and several confessions (established relationship, mostly fluff, talks of sex but no actual smut 18+, 1.6k)

fictober (㇏(•̀ᵥᵥ•́)ノ)

Eddie Munson is a hopeless romantic.

Not because he loves like it’s breathing (though some would argue otherwise), but because his attempts to be affectionate with you are complete and utter failures.

He had a whole romantic day planned. A late lunch, a quick walk, and then sunset at the park. Honestly, it probably would’ve been a pretty metal date if it was any day other than this one — the biggest flood of the whole goddamn year.

You got to the diner just fine but had to rush back to the trailer in the rain since he didn’t have his van. Thankfully, it waited to outright pour until he got you home. Now, his leather jacket — which you’d used as a makeshift umbrella — hangs beside the opened window to dry.

The orange autumn breeze rolls over your bare bodies like silk (because, of course, an innocent shower after getting drenched in the rain couldn’t not end in getting dirty again).

“Was all this just a ploy to get me into bed?” you tease, tracing the freckles on his back with the tip of your finger. “’Cause you coulda just asked, you know? I would’ve said yes.”

Lying flat on his stomach, Eddie laughs into his folded-up arms. His deep brown hair brushes his pale shoulders when he turns to look at you. His smile is swollen and rosy and crooked.

“You got me, princess. Making my girlfriend walk in disgusting weather was all a part of my evil plan.”

“I wouldn���t say it was evil.”

“No?”

“Sinful, maybe. Sexy, even,” you joke with a lopsided grin. “But no, not evil.”

“Is that so?” he lilts as he rises on his elbow to prop his cheek on his fist.

You shake your head and roll onto your back. Your eyes flit to the spotted ceiling. A smirk blossoms on your lips. “I feel like evil would imply that it was hurtful in some way. And that thing you did in the shower felt way too good to be evil.”

“What thing?” the boy wonders with pinched-together brows.

You shoot him a look. “You know…” you hum vaguely, expectantly.

“No. I don’t, actually,” Eddie laughs, mostly at himself. “I’m kinda dumb, in case you forgot.”

“You’re not dumb, Eds.”

“Stop being sweet. You’re deflecting.”

You concede with a small huff. “That… That thing. With your mouth. When you pressed me against the wall and— please, don’t make me describe it, Eddie,” you ramble, then cut yourself off to whine.

He meets your grimace with a boyish grin. “I don’t know. I kinda like hearing you talk about it.”

“I’ll die,” you deadpan.

“You’re so dramatic.”

His words are harsh, but his pink smile is kind. He kisses you with it after — a smacking peck to the corner of your mouth that migrates rather quickly. He sprinkles his lips along your jaw and chin and neck. 

That’s where he lingers. 

Eddie finds your pulse point and goes a half-inch higher, just like he did while he was fucking you against the shower wall. You nearly came the first time he kissed you there. 

He sucks at the delicate skin until he leaves another faint mark. The feeling of his tongue and teeth on your newfound sweet spot makes your toes curl. It has you moaning out loud before you mean to.

His lips audibly smack when he pulls away.

“That thing?” he wonders, smiling down at you like he already knows the answer.

Your thighs clench together. Your bones are made of mush. “That thing,” you repeat in the affirmative.

“Well, if we’re sharing secrets…” Eddie singsongs, then leans in all close like he’s about to spill the latest gossip. His fingers spread out along your bare waist, eyes sparkling with mischief. “I really liked it when you got all mean.”

You hadn’t thought much of it, then — when Eddie edged you on the counter with his fingers and laughed when you writhed. 

You didn’t even let him make it up to you after, just sucked him off and told him he wasn’t allowed to touch you. “Don’t cum ’til I tell you to, understand?” you’d said. “Or I’m gonna get myself off, and you’re gonna watch.”

He was a good boy for you, though, and you let him fuck you in the shower.

Your nose scrunches in muted embarrassment. “I wasn’t being that mean, was I?”

“No. I mean, you could certainly get meaner…” Eddie assures with a shake of his head, then grins as his fingers crawl up your ribcage. You fight back a shiver. “Which I think could be preferable from time to time.”

“So, you want me to be more… dominant?”

He shrugs a pale, freckled shoulder. “Yeah. Sometimes. I like watching you get all dumb for me, don’t get me wrong, but every time you get a little mean, I almost cum in my pants.”

The blatant confession makes you go slightly stupid. You just nod at him, lazy and unblinking. “Yeah. I can do that. You know, if that’s what you want.”

“I do want,” Eddie hums, matching your sloppy head shake. His nicotine-coated breath fans across your cheek. “Very, very much.”

“But not all the time, though, right?”

“No. Not all the time. Just… sometimes— when the moment’s right or whatever.”

“Sure…”

Eddie’s grin broadens when you trail off. A faraway look glazes over your eye. His brows raise expectantly. “What’s that look for?”

You blink rapidly as you descend from the clouds. Shaking your head, you dismiss him. “Nothing. Nothing— I just… I did kinda like not letting you come right away.”

“Yeah. Me too,” Eddie concurs, suddenly breathless.

Your gaze flits to his, mousy and twinkling. Your hands fidget above the covers. “And I kinda wanna try letting you cum and maybe… not stopping…”

Eddie’s eyes go wide. His mouth opens to respond, but he forgets how to speak. He barely remembers to breathe.

“Is that… Is that weird?” you ask, forcing a laugh at his unusual silence.

“No!” he blurts, sounding much louder in the honeyed quiet of his bedroom. “No, that’s… That’s really hot, actually. Like, really hot.”

He zones out just like you had. The imagery of it all makes his stomach whirl. He’s done it to you a number of times — brought you to the edge and kept on pushing you over until you pushed him away. But he’d never thought about ever doing it to himself till now. 

Actually, there’s quite a lot of things he’s done to you that he might enjoy himself if he thinks about it.

The thought alone opens a world of possibility in his wild, wild head.

“Can I tell you about something I was thinking about the other day?” he wonders suddenly.

Though slightly startled by the blurted question, you nod. “Of course.”

His gaze flits away from yours. His hand fidgets at your waist, fingers softly scratching at your burning skin. “You know my handcuffs? The ones I clip on my jeans sometimes?”

Again, you nod.

“Well, I— I have the keys, you know? So it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world if we— you know— if we used them…”

“On me?” you press, brows pinched in distant concern.

Eddie shakes his head immediately. “No. I know you don’t like that.”

“So… on you?”

“Yeah. Maybe. If you want,” the boy mumbles, suddenly shy in a way you’ve only seen a handful of times — including earlier, when he was begging to cum in your mouth. “I just think it could be cool, you know? Like, you could tie me up and just… use me. If you want,” he repeats.

“Use you?” you repeat with a soft laugh.

He shrugs. “Yeah. I mean, I don’t— I don’t really care about getting off as much as I care about you getting off, you know? I just… wanna take care of you. Want you to take what you want.”

You open your mouth to respond only to find that all words have lost meaning. Your brain is a jumbled mess of alphabet soup. So you just nod, dumb at the very thought.

Eddie’s hand rises from the covers. His palm settles warm at your jaw. His fingers smell faintly of sex as his calloused thumb smooths across your chapped lips. “You could, like, rub yourself on my cock. Get yourself off on top of me,” he murmurs lowly to you, a quiet and crooked grin pulling at his mouth. “Wouldn’t that be metal?”

“Yeah…” you answer with a sigh, getting lost in the daydream right along with him. “Wouldn’t put you inside me at first, either. Not until you’re begging for it.”

His smile widens. “Exactly.”

“Then I’ll ride you until you make me cum.”

Eddie nods, egging you on. He tucks his face into your neck, if only to conceal how ardently he’s blushing. He hides his pink cheeks between your jaw and shoulder and kisses you where he knows it’ll drive you crazy. 

“Mhmm?” he urges, muffled.

You sigh a faint moan. Your fingers curl in his wild hair. You press your lips to his temple and continue. “And I’ll let you come, too. Eventually… But I won’t stop.”

“Fuck,” he groans into your pulse.

“Not until you’ve filled me up three times—”

“Oh, fuck…”

You tug at his hair with a soft, stern touch you think you could learn to master for him. His lips click faintly when he parts from you. He blinks down at you with glassy chocolate eyes.

“Something like that?” you wonder, feigning innocence with a sweet-sounding lilt.

Eddie nods, sloppy and stupid. He stammers. “Yeah… Yeah. Some—Something like that.”

[biteyoubiteme]

sour apple flavored

taehyun x fem!reader

synopsis: someone or something is always waiting by your window at night, why not leave it unlocked and see what happens?

warnings: 🔞!!! incubus!taehyun, somno/dudcon , spit kink, spit as an aphrodisiac, oral (f!rec), overstim (f!rec), slight nipple play, marking, lots of kissing, mentions of masturbation, no protection, creampie, cum eating prob forgot some

wc: 2.7k

an: I don't know how well I did with the dream v reality mix but I tried sorry if it gets kinda confusing ;-; this is 100% inspired by devil by the window it was on repeat as I wrote it no explanation needed. ive never written something like this and I don't know if youll like it but I definitely had fun <3 not proofread sorry! feedback is appreciated :)) [m.list]

this is apart of my mini kinktober event check out the other fics here! [dumdum m.list]

The dreams always started the same way; like waking up with the sense of being watched. The moonlight coming in through the open window that you never remembered opening in the first place. Gauzy curtains rippling in the soft breeze cooling down your flushed cheeks. You never saw him standing there right at the edge of the windowsill until after you've sat up, bed sheets pooling around your waist as you rub at your eyes trying to get them adjusted to the darkness. 

It was always so eerily silent, the only sound coming from your gentle breathing. It's the slight tilt of his head at the sound of your sigh that makes you realize you're not alone. The shine on the little black horns on his head caught the silver moonlight, night air catching the strands of his hair on his brow. It's the curiosity in his eyes that keeps you from being scared, every slow blink taking you in like a wanting cat deciding if you're worth the time. 

You're sure it's a dream because no one has ever looked so beautiful, especially not any of the boys who find themselves lucky enough to make it into your bed. No, the only way you can describe him is otherworldly, born from your dreamscapes amalgamation of every desire you've craved in a partner. 

The tempo of your heart starts to pick up, flush deepening just eyeing him. It's what makes him smirk so subtly that if you hadn't been watching his mouth you wouldn't have realized his expression had changed at all. 

It was impossible to think about anything else but what it would feel like to run your fingers over his tanned skin. All his defined muscles on display for you. Images of you and him flickered through your head like you've already been here before, like he's been pressed against you in this very bed while you kiss along his chest and to his jaw. Your thighs clench swearing you can feel his hands on you even if he's only across the room, the ghost of his fingers trailing between your legs just barely brushing over the soaked fabric of your panties. 

That alone has you falling back to your pillow, hips jerking trying to meet the image halfway as if it's not in your imagination but a tangible thing you can reach if you roll your hips just close enough. You don't even have to reach down to touch yourself, your hands curling in your sheets as you watch him through hooded eyes. 

“Please,” it's a desperate plea so quiet you don't think he's heard you. But although he does not move from his spot by the window you can picture what it would look like if he did. Your legs spread like he was right there between them with his nose brushing up your sensitive skin closest to where you need him the most. And yet all he does is watch; the ghost of his imaginary touch so close before you're barreling into reality. 

The feeling of waking is similar to being feverish. Clammy skin and aching joints like you've been brought back to life instead of reminded that he's not real. But the feeling only lasts a few seconds before the lust washes over you again, eyes finding the empty space he should be and isn't. It's hard to fall back asleep, tossing and turning, craving a man who doesn't exist. The only thing that can satiate you is getting off to the thought of him, your climax better alone thinking of him than when you've ever been with someone else. 

This is one of taehyuns favorite ways to feed. the desperation is palpable as you work yourself up, your climax coming off you in waves when it finally crashes. you'll look over to where he should be blinking like it will make him appear and he's always so tempted to let you see him, knowing one kiss and you would be so willing. 

But he wanted you to feel tortured over not having him, so much so that the second he made himself known outside of a dream you wouldn't think twice before letting him take you for all you were. The chase was his favorite part; playing with his food like a cat with his little mouse, so unsuspecting. Of course he was not fully satisfied only watching but he knew the second he went in it would only be better because of the wait. 

Every night he was waiting by your window, watching the way you arched your back, hips sinking into the mattress, every sweet moan beckoning him. He watched the way his dreams affected you, that sweet serenity on your features when you saw him standing there begging him; beckoning him. 

He watches even when you're awake, the moon hanging in the inky sky as you work at your desk. You never open the window, at least not since he's started to come around. He remembers that first night he heard you, alone in bed trying and failing to get off, just his presence so close helped finally push you over the edge. Your eyes screwing shut, every sound leaving you intoxicating enough to bring him back. 

Tonight it's as if you can see him waiting, your eyes finding his spot over and over so much so  you get little work done at all. And then you open the window. 

It's not like he can't get in if you don't let him, it's just a rule he's set up for himself when around you. Waiting for something to break in the cycle before taking the next step and now your curtains are catching the wind; a white flag waving to call a truce to a game you didn't even notice you were playing with him. 

He swears he is only going to step inside and watch, let his dream work on you like it always did but as soon as he stepped to the edge of your bed he couldn't think of anything else besides putting his hands on you. 

Even in your dream he was so close to you, finally there at the foot of your bed instead of the window. Now out of the shadows you can make out more of his features, catching sight of the wings on his back, the inky black feathers always blending into the darkness. 

“Please, please,” each word a rock thrown at the broken window masquerading as his resolve. 

“You always look so pretty begging for me,” his knuckles running over your cheekbone, your head turning to try and chase the feeling. 

In reality he watched the way you mimicked the movement, the sheets of your bed tangled between your legs, rustling with each turn of your thigh. Soft hums breaking into sleepy words, “i-i want…” 

“Hum?” in the quiet of the room the hum echoed between you two. But even in your dream you could hear him. 

“I want you, i-,” he arched his brow as you cut yourself off but you were distracted by the pad of his thumb brushing under your eye, lashes fluttering as you lost your thoughts, “i need you,” 

“Do you?” his thumb followed the line of your nose dipping down to your waiting lips, tracing them like a memory. 

“Yes,” your head dipping just enough to be seen in reality. 

He leaned down over your sleeping form, his lips just ghosting over yours, your body mimicking the way it was in your dream trying to catch the kiss before he thought better of it. But being this close wouldn't stop him now, he had never wanted someone as bad as he wanted to have you. 

The second his lips pressed to yours it was like a blanket of calmness, knowing he would take care of you without any need for worry. But as much as you wanted more than a simple kiss he pulled away tracing his nose along your jaw and down your neck. Lips pressed to your hammering pulse, hand sneaking down to press against the fabric of your panties. You can feel his grin against your skin, fingers feeling along the wet outline of you, circling your clit. 

It's then that you wake up, for a split second your body tenses softening when he speaks. 

“Its okay,” he whispered, nose pressed to your ear, “there's no need to be scared i know exactly how to take care of you,” 

You reach out for him, tentatively running your fingers against his smooth warm skin, following the lines of his muscles. “Are you real?” 

He gives a soft chuckle nose dipping to brush yours, “more than real,” and this time he completely devours you in a kiss. 

Its an all consuming kind of kiss, your hands coming up to twist in his hair needing him closer, your legs spreading as he adds more pressure to your clit. When you open your mouth and his tongue touches yours you feel warmth spread from the contact. The taste of him makes you crave more, feeling feverish to keep as close as you can get to him. Even in the time that you dreamt of him you never felt a craving like this. This temptation has haunted you, reaching out for the apple night after night. 

Taehyun pushes your panties aside feeling along your slick folds; so much wetter after having tasted him, his saliva already working to make you needier. He kisses down your chest pushing down your tank top to swirl his tongue around your nipple, your back arching to push into him. He can feel your arousal coursing through your body, the hum of it right there under his hands, fueling him to keep going. 

He pulls away dipping his head down between your legs like you've wanted him to do after every dream you've had. His wet lips leave trails of kisses up your inner thighs before pulling your panties down all together.

The moan that leaves you the moment his mouth is on your clit is shocking. He licks up your wetness devouring you as you pull on his hair, hips jerking as you ride his face. And he lets you, moans sending vibrations through your core, one hand reaching up to tug on your nipple and the other wraps around your thigh to hold you open. He sucks deeply on your clit, your head rolling back, a silent moan leaving you before you're falling into your first orgasm. 

He knows exactly how much he needs to to lick to get you there, can feel and anticipate everything it would take. The feeling is a tidal wave over him, the rush of feeling fed for the first time in a long time. Not the little bits he's gotten from watching from afar, no, something that makes him even hungrier than he initially was before. 

He hums in the back of his throat, he pushes two fingers into you collecting your wetness watching the way when he pulls them out the strings of your arousal clings to them. “I love the way your body reacts to me, look at it,” he shoves his fingers into his mouth groaning, “you taste like you were made for me,” 

Your whine in response, knees falling open wider as you watch him push down his trousers. Just seeing the mere sight of his size has you clenching around nothing. “I don't know if-” 

“It will fit and if it doesn't i'll make it fit,” he leaves no room for questions, hand wrapping around his veiny shaft, beads of precum already on his tip. He's a sight to behold in front of you. The way the moonlight hits his tanned skin, makes the feathers on his wings shine, muscles flexing as he pumps his cock, kneeling over you like a fallen angel. 

He leans over you letting a droplet of his spit drop down onto your waiting cunt, the natural effect of the aphrodisiac already having worked on you but the more he added would make the experience more pleasurable. 

Hooking his hand into the pit behind your knee he pushes your leg up the head of his cock bumping your entrance before pushing through. Even just the tip feels like a stretch you won't ever be able to replicate. The soft whine leaving you turns into an open mouthed moan as he inches in. not even halfway in and you're feeling the pressure pressed against your gummy walls, your hands reaching out to grab at his arm, nails digging into his skin. “You're already doing so good,” he praises, pulling out just a bit before pushing in all the way. 

“Oh god-” you moan as he grabs your other leg and when you think you can’t feel him any deeper he's letting your legs catch in the crook of his elbows, pushing you legs wider, pushing in until you can feel him in your throat. 

“Look at that, you did so good taking all of me,” he leans down until his nose is brushing yours catching your mouth with his, “tell me does it feel as good for you as it does for me? So warm and inviting,” 

“yes,” you nod, feeling the weight of him as he starts to pump in and out of you. So far in you can feel him in your stomach taking control over your body. Your arms wrap around his neck, nails scratching down his back as he pounds into your wanting pussy. Hips knocking yours as he keeps up his pace. 

Taehyun didn't want to lose control but he's never felt this good while feeding. Every sound, every touch, the way you felt wrapped around him was sending him spiraling, a deep rumble rippled in his chest as he took over. Your orgasm builds in the pit of your stomach, white hot and uncontrollable. 

You can't even think straight anymore except that you don't want any of this to stop, not now, not ever. The echo of your skin slapping together a soundtrack to your pleasure, his lips sucking marks onto your extended neck as he muttered sweetly, “so patient waiting for my cock, touching yourself while you thought about me hum? Imagining what it would be like if I got my hands on your pretty pussy, what it would feel like if I circled your clit until you came,” and its like hestalking the dreams back into reality, the feeling of his fingers on you just like before without him ever touching you, tracing the lines of your body, rubbing your clit until you're seeing spots. You cannot tell what is real or not anymore before you feel yourself break. You're trembling as you cum trying to find anything to hold onto, scratching up his back as your pussy pulses, sucking him in, thighs trembling. 

It's the pure unadulterated lust pouring out of you and into him that makes his moan come from deep inside of him. His body stilling as his cock twitches, hips as close as he can get them to yours before he spills his hot cum deep inside you. He's never felt so much cum leave his body before, never knew what it felt like to be fully satiated when it came to a feeding. 

You're a whimpering mess as he pulls out, hips still jerking, pulse found right against your clit. You can feel your combined release sliding down your legs, puddling on the mattress as he gently kisses down your chest and stomach coming back down between your legs to look at how he ruined you. 

“You did so well for me,” he smiles, lips brushing your clit with each word as you try to scurry away from the overstimulation. But he's not so kind as to notice instead licking up your folds, sucking on your puffy clit watching the way you thrashed, tears right on the edge of your lashes until he pulls away. “I don't think I could have anyone better to feed from,” he grins, lifting himself up, wings spreading open behind him before he leans down to kiss you again, the taste of the two of you mixing on your tongue. “Would you like it if I came back again and again?” 

“Please,” 

🏷 taglist: @kissmekissykissme @bts-txt-ateez @apeachty @stwq2349 @isa942572 
@tomorrowxforever @beestvng @soobingf-blog @lovinjjong @lola-horore-553 
@cypher-03 @midnight-mochii @hueningwhy @choibeomning @soobinbunnie5 
@yunjinswifee @cupidtaehyun @bamgeutsz @prince-jjae @nessaassen02 @iluvhyukaa @mrsjohnnysuh

[railingsofsorrow]

call your mom

[spencer reid x reader]

SONG INSPIRATION » CALL YOUR MOM by noah kahan  

summary: you're tired of seeing spencer reid struggling on his own and decides to take matters into your own hands: by taking him into a late-night drive through virginia  

pairing: spencer reid x f!bau!reader

w.c: 2.1K

warnings/content: exes to lovers trope (they're best friends); grief (implied); depression symptoms; isolation; spencer needs a hug; hurt/comfort; long hair is mentioned (the best spencer era shut up)

A/N: this is from the same universe of late-night talking but can be read as a standalone. it's my birthday and I used it as an excuse to post this cause I just finished it.

navi

masterpost

criminal minds masterlist

━━━━━━━━━ 

“oh you're spiralin' again,

the moment right before it ends,

you're most afraid of.”

━━━━━━━━━ 

You knock twice, unsure. It is past 9 in the evening and you don't know how this would not bother anybody. But you think about the reason why you're in front of his door and you knock three more times, strong, certain knocks. You need to see him, that's final. 

The door opens to reveal a messy haired Spencer with his work clothes still on and crumpled, showing you he was probably laying down on the couch about to fall asleep or having trouble doing so.  

“Did I wake you?” Your face twitches into a grimace as guilt overtakes your body. 

"No," Spencer's knitted brows tell you he's confused why you're there in the middle of the night. Concern soon takes over. "Are you okay? Did something happen?" 

You are quick to brush him off. "Nothing happened. I came to pick you up." 

"Pick me up...?" 

You nod, crossing your arms. "This is an intervention. We're going out for a drive." 

His shoulders sag, and he shakes his head. You recognize the familiarity of Spencer's ability to shut people down, but he can't do that to you. Not tonight. 

"I'm fine." 

"No, you're not."  

You also know he's not going to shut the door on your face. You bite your cheek, taking one step closer.  

"You're not taking no for an answer, are you?" 

"Sorry." But you're not, really.  

He meets you downstairs, you're resting against your car, staring at the night sky as the night breeze tickles your bare arms. Something soft and warm covers you up and you glance down in surprise. He's silently adjusting the cardigan around your shoulders and you don't have the heart to tell him you did bring a coat and it's in your backseat, but you feel comfortable with the smell of books and coffee in the fabric so you stay quiet.  

"Where are we going," He deadpans, shutting the door with a sigh as he enters the passenger seat.  

"We're driving. No final location." 

No complaints come from him before you turn the car on, so you take that as a good sign and start  driving.  

━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“stayed on the line with you the entire night

'till you let it out and let it in.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━

The satisfaction of driving through the city late at night comes from the fact that there are no cars honking repeatedly and in a rush to get somewhere. Things are slightly less hectic in traffic after rush hour.  

You drive slowly through Powells Creek Bridge, stealing a glance beside you to see him tilting his head to watch the Potomac River.  

You wait.  

And wait.  

Until, finally. . . 

“Did you know that the Potomac River is approximately 405 miles long, which makes it the fourth largest river on the Atlantic coast? It flows through the Appalachian Mountains and it serves as a natural border between Maryland and Virginia.” 

You bit your lip to prevent yourself from grinning.  

It feels like a breath of fresh air to hear him ramble about something after the tense silence he chose instead this entire week. 

“Really?” 

“Yes.” Spencer is staring at the view outside as your drive, you observe when you stop on red sign. His jaw has a stubble, revealing he hasn't shaved in a while. The way his hair moves to fall off behind his ear and he tucked it every time makes he seem angelic almost. Not almost. He's beautiful.  

You caught the hair tie on his left wrist before you start driving again. 

“Have you ever used it?” 

It was a simple plain purple hair tie. You bought a bunch for him when his hair used to be longer and he would get annoyed when his strands fell on his eyes as he read. When you saw purple hair ties in the place you usually get your hair products, you immediately thought of him, even if you didn't know if he would use it. 

You've never actually seen him use them at work, but he wore them on his wrists religiously and he'd give one to you when you needed it. 

“Used what?” He stopped gazing out into the road to look at you confused.  

“The hair ties.” 

His eyes fell to his wrist. “Oh.” A beat. “Yes, I use it.” 

“You do?” You ask, a tinge of surprise in your tone. “I don't think I've ever seen you wearing it.”  

Spencer huffs out a laugh. “I won't wear it at work. I do at home, though.”  

“Bet you'd look good with your hair tied up.”  

Silence.  

Sometimes you can't control what you say and things come out without you thinking twice about it. This time, though, you should've thought twice. 

“You think so?” Spencer asks, voice small, barely audible if everything wasn't so silence.  

“Sure.”  

“I like it, it helps when I don't want it sticking to my face.” 

“Yeah, they're useful.” 

You feel his stare and your cheeks burn a little with the attention. You turn on an avenue.

“I like wearing them because you gave it to me.” Do you know what I'm saying? He thinks, tongue itching to clarify what he meant I wear it around my wrist because it's a piece of you I have with me all the time. It comforts me. Like now.  

“Because I gave them to you?” You repeat like a stupid person.  

Spencer keeps his eyes on you for a moment before returning to stare at the view outside. His eyes fall shut as the wind enters through the space left open of the car window. It tickled his nose and he smiled a little. 

Grief can creep up on you without warning. In a moment, you're okay, going about your routine as always. Then, you're buried in your couch, with a book close to your chest in a foolish attempt to feel the warmth of someone who's no longer there.  

━━━━━━━━━ 

“he's greatest fears and wringing hands and the loudest silence.”

━━━━━━━━━ 

No warning. Like a slap on your cheek. 

It's funny because Spencer has always dealt with everything by shutting people out. In his childhood, he didn't had a lot of people so he didn't worry about that. But today, surrounded by what he calls family that he met through the FBI, it's harder to do that.  

It's familiar to isolate himself. To just lie and say I'm fine, because he's done it all his life so why change now? Because he has people now.  

He has you.  

Does he deserve it? No. Does he have the strength to shut you out completely? Also no. He may ignore calls and texts from the rest of his team, but you? Spencer doesn't have the heart to do that. He sends a text back, a dot, just to prove his alive but not ready to face the world. 

And then you show up at his place, carrying nothing but your strong-willed persona, inviting him out to drive with no destination in sight.  

Intervention. Could he call it that?  

━━━━━━━━━ 

“medicate, meditate, swear your soul to jesus

throw a punch, fall in love, give yourself a reason

don't wanna drive another mile wonderin' if you're breathing.”

━━━━━━━━━

Spencer doesn't care, really. He admits silently that he feels somewhat better that you're there. Close to him. He feels less empty. 

“Stay with me, Spence.” 

He looks at you, gaze falling to his cardigan around your shoulders. Back when you were together, you used to steal it to wear it on every jet ride even if you had a jumper on your go-bag. Spencer never complained or asked for explanations, the fabric would smell like you afterwards, so it was a win-win situation.  

“I'm here,” he said. “It's not like I want to put myself in the ER by stepping out of the vehicle while you're driving.” 

Your lips twitch in amusement. 

“You looked far away just now.” 

“You notice too much.” 

“You think so?” 

“Yes.” 

You leaned back against the seat, letting out a sigh that told him you would say something serious. Something he should pay attention to, that he should listen. He always listens to you. 

“I care about you.” 

“I care about you too.” 

“Yes well,” Delilah turns the car in a street to park it. Everything was so empty but they are not about to get murdered in the dark because they're federal agents and federal agents do not get killed in the dark in an empty park. “you seem to forget that I care sometimes and you worry me.” 

His brows twitch with guilt.  

“Sorry.” 

“I already forgave you when you got out of your apartment.” 

Spencer looks at you, gaze traveling across your face. The streetlights reflecting across your features remind him of a painting. He's glad he's got an eidetic memory to never forget that image. 

━━━━━━━━━ 

“don't let this darkness fool you

all lights turned off, can be turned on

i'll drive, i'll drive all night

i'll call your mom.”

━━━━━━━━━

“You didn't have to do that,” Spencer says, staring at your hand on your lap, he stops himself from reaching out. “I just needed some space. Some... silence.” 

“Yeah, but your silence is deafening and I missed you.” She offers him a small smile and Spencer notices they have stopped. The car was parked around an empty area.  

It's around three in the morning, understandably so, no one is around.  

“You missed me?” 

“I lost to Emily in chess, I need to upgrade my abilities and you're the teacher for that.” 

That got a chuckle out of him and you feel satisfaction course through your body. The display of emotion just now, even though small, was way better than the apathetic person she saw one hour back at his door. If it means she gets to make him feel a little bit better, driving a whole hour at night is worth it. Or twenty hours straight.  

Your conversation enters a steady rhythm. About the past week. About traffic. About the weather. Anything. You were just happy he is talking. Spencer's voice is addictive and if you didn't have him rambling about statistics or mathematical facts during a case, it wasn't the same.  

"I have to confess something." You announce, laughter dying out. 

Spencer raises a brow at you, folding one of his legs under the other before turning his body to face you by leaning against the door.  

"You do?" 

"It's not a work gossip, don't act too excited." 

His lips tug upwards in amusement. "Do I need to hide a body or something?" 

"Don't worry, you'll be the first to know if I commit a crime," you say, twisting your body to grab something from your backseat. "I had that for a few weeks, but I guess this is the right time to give you."  

Spencer is expecting the cardigan he caught a glimpse of a few minutes before but instead, he finds a book in your hands.  

"A book recommendation."  

He takes it from your hands with a lazy smile on his face. "We haven't done that in a while." 

"Yeah." 

He says your name, studying the book with a pensive look on his features. "Thank you for bringing me here today." He looks up from the hardcover to meet your soft gaze staring back at him. "You got me to get up so... thank you." 

You nudge his feet with your own. "Don't thank me. Like I said before, I need to improve my chess abilities."  

We never played chess, we just talked. He thought while hugging the book to his chest. He would start reading it as soon as he got home. 

One of his hand raise up to touch yours and you let him play with the rings in your fingers. He said once the cold metal against his skin was soothing. 

“Spencer,” your voice is gentle but serious. “You know I'd drive all night if it means I get to see you okay.” 

━━━━━━━━━ 

“oh, dear don't be discouraged

i've been exactly where you are.”

━━━━━━━━━

“You don't have to.” 

“I want to.” 

“I know.” 

And some of the heavy burden that had been laid upon his shoulders seems to let go for the time being. His eyes don't look so grey and his forehead momentarily forgot the permanent frown. 

Spencer feels like breathing fresh air.  

So he'll allow himself to be a little selfish and hold onto your company for longer.  

“Do you want to play chess?” He can't help the grin stretching out his lips when he notices your surprise. Excitement takes place. 

“Yes—I mean, that's the only reason I came to see you.” 

“Right,” he nods as if it's obvious. “Of course.” 

“I didn't miss you at all, I really need to get back at Emily. She never won against me!” 

Spencer leans back, watching you with a knowing glint in his eyes, hands itching to touch yours and never letting go. Your voice is the best remedy he could ever ask for.  

“If you say so.”  

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ 

“i'll drive, i'll drive all (night) night

i'll call your mom.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ 

taglist: @lilyviolets  ; @whore-for-spencer-reid ; @yeonalie ; @ninkieminjaj ; @hoeshissworld ; @r-3dlips ; @pleasantwitchgarden

[wholoveseggs]

Heyyy gorgeous, another day another request! i was thinking about CEO human reader, she’s super rich, classy and very powerful woman. She also happens to be maybe a friend of Camille? And she catches Elijahs attention. They will meet on galas, auctions, operas etc. And he’s fascinated with her because of how composed and educated she is, they share hobbies, fashion style and so on. Aaaand one day he will pay her a visit in her office and it leads to some very smutty office sex… pretty please 🥹

Paperwork

18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}

You approach a handsome philanthropist at a charity gala, leading to a stress-relieving meeting high above the city lights.

♡♡ Thanks for the request @msveronicag I loveeee this idea (sorry I forgot to include Cami) ♡♡

5k words - Warnings: smut, slight dom!elijah, lots of banter, little bit of choking, public(ish) sex, Elijah being the relaxed one, a whole bunch of silly business jargon...

It was a part of your job to attend these stupid functions. It didn't feel like a party, a place to unwind, it felt more like a battle ground. Where the weapons were not guns, but witty retorts and carefully calculated smiles. It was all a show.

You hated it.

But the alcohol was good, food was usually tasty, and sometimes you got lucky. Because sometimes, you meet an actual interesting person. They were few and far between, but they were there.

This gala was being held at some museum or another. You couldn't quite remember, you had only been given the information a few hours before you had to be there, and hadn't bothered reading the pamphlet. Its Grecian architecture was impressive, if not a little pretentious.

You leaned against one of the pillars leading out onto a balcony, it was an impossibly warm Louisiana evening, and the breeze was welcome. You were grateful you chose your light silk dress for the occasion, rather than the heavy, floor length gown one of your assistants had chosen for you.

You observed a man standing a short distance away, looking up at a large painting hanging high on the wall. You couldn't quite see his face, but the suit he was wearing looked expensive. You were a little bored, and he at least looked a little interesting.

You walked up behind him, careful not to step too heavily in your heels.

"I don't care much for this style, myself." You said, not looking up at the painting.

He turned his head to look at you. "Is that so?"

He was handsome, almost startlingly so. The way the light hit him made his jaw appear sharper than it likely was. His lips were full and his hair perfectly styled, not a single strand out of place. But what really drew you in were his eyes, dark brown and intense, framed by long lashes.

You smirked. "It's a bit..." You glanced up at the painting, trying to find the right word. "Stiff."

He turned to face you, his eyes wandering up and down your body, before landing on your face again. He gave you a crooked smile that made your palms sweat, oh he wasn't just handsome, he was gorgeous.

"Stiff? I don't know, I think the artist did a very good job at conveying the... passion." He said.

"Where? In the brush strokes?" You said, taking a sip of your drink.

"No." He said, and his eyes moved away from yours and towards the couple on the painting. "There."

You turned your head and looked. A nude woman, her skin pale and hair blonde, laid on her back on a bed, the red covers thrown away and onto the floor. The man, his face hidden, stood at the edge of the bed, his hands moving to grip her thighs, as though he were about to climb on top of her.

You raised your eyebrows.

"You find that passionate?" You asked, looking back at him.

He shrugged. "I do. I think he was quite enamored with her, judging by the detail put into the painting."

"She looks like she's trying to take a nap and this creep won't leave her alone." You said, and he chuckled.

"Thus, the magic of art, my dear. What is interpreted depends on the person."

"Do you often interpret napping women as passionate?" You asked, and his smile widened.

"No, I prefer passion in the form of a willing, enthusiastic partner."

You took a sip of your drink. "And how do you go about finding one of those?"

He gave you a slow smile and reached out his hand, offering it to you. "Elijah, it's a pleasure."

"Y/n." You said, putting your hand in his and shaking it, firmly.

He kept your hand in his, bringing it to his lips, a move you would usually cringe at, but with him it seemed natural. He didn't seem like the usual crowd you had to deal with at these events. His voice, his posture, everything about him was elegant and his flirting was ridiculously smooth.

"Now that we're acquainted, what say you and I go find a little passion for ourselves?" He asked, lowering his voice to a whisper.

Your eyes widened slightly, and you laughed, pulling your hand away from his.

"A little eager, are we?" You asked, giving him a playful smirk.

"I just wanted to dance with you, why? Were you thinking of something else?" He gave you a knowing smile, and it made you laugh again.

"You're charming." You said.

"And you are beautiful." He said, extending his hand to you.

He was an excellent dancer, leading you expertly across the floor, even with the quick tempo of the song, he never faltered, not once. You didn't know how, but he could anticipate your next step, as though the two of you had rehearsed this for weeks.

"I like your dress, what brand is it? Prada?" He asked, leaning in to whisper in your ear.

"Yes, how did you know?" You asked, surprised.

"I own a few vintage pieces, I'm partial to the fall 2012 line." He said, his hands on your hips, holding you close.

"Really?" You asked. "The menswear one? It was villain themed, wasn't it?"

He nodded. "You have a love for fashion, I assume?"

"It can be a great investment if you pick the right pieces. The classics are usually the safest bet."

"Oh, I agree." He said.

You smiled. "So what do you do, Elijah?"

"I'm a philanthropist," He said. "I support local artists and historical projects and such. How about you?"

"I own a commercial real estate company. It's equally boring and stressful." You said. "What I do most of the day is paperwork."

He laughed, a delightful sound, and moved one hand from your hip, to the center of your back.

"Not fond of it?" He asked.

"No, quite the opposite, actually. If I could just get rid of the meetings I'd be thrilled."

He chuckled and spun you once. "You wouldn't be the first person to say that."

"What about you Mr. Philanthropy, how do you spend your days?" You asked, falling right back in step with the music, his movements as smooth as ever.

"Oh, you know," He said, his lips hovering by your cheek. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you,"

You leaned back a little, turning your head to give him a cheeky grin.

"Oh so it's family money then, is it?" You asked, and he hummed, his eyes narrowing playfully at you.

"Something like that. Enough to afford the finer things," He said, spinning you once, your dress billowing out around you like a waterfall.

He dipped you, his grip on your waist tight, as the song came to an end. You were breathing hard as you stood up straight again, letting go of his hand.

"Thank you for the dance, Mr. Mikaelson," You said, giving him a quick bow. "It's been a pleasure,"

"May I call on you sometime?" He asked, his hand still holding yours. "For a dance that is, and perhaps dinner afterwards?"

You looked at him, considering him for a moment, before smiling.

"Perhaps, Mr. Mikaelson, perhaps."

It had been a hellish week. A buyer had fallen through on the deal, costing you a lot of money. After the announcement, several of your employees began asking questions. About profit margins, about future strategies, about the acquisition of cheaper offices and rentals. It was difficult to concentrate, what with their constant stream of questions and their low murmuring at their desks as they talked about the whole ordeal.

Your company was also in the middle of a bidding war, trying to win a lucrative contract with the city to build several apartment complexes downtown. And on top of that, you had missed a shareholder's meeting because of a flight delay, pissing off several of them and creating several more holes in the schedule.

You were up to your neck in work, stressing out about everything.

Your phone buzzed and you sighed. Elijah. He has been texting you consistently ever since the gala, inviting you for lunch, or dinner, sometimes drinks at his place, hell, even just a walk in the park. He was polite, a true gentleman, but also seemed completely unaware of the fact that you didn't really have time for this stuff.

But it wasn't like you didn't want to see him, you did. You hadn't been able to get him out of your head since the gala. He was certainly an interesting person, a quick wit, and good taste to boot, but you didn't think it was a good idea. Your relationships tended to fall apart fairly quickly, most men you dated became intimidated by your success, or found the power dynamic to be a point of contention for them. Either way, it usually wasn't fun.

But god, his lips...

And his smile, you could see the mischief behind it, it made your stomach flutter just thinking about it. The way his eyes lit up when he laughed. It was intoxicating, you just couldn't...

You opened the text.

Free for dinner tonight?

You rubbed your temple, sighing.

Sorry, can't. Too much work. :)

You put the phone aside, only to have it buzz again.

I'm really good at paperwork, some say the best. Could lend a hand,

You snorted. Oh you could totally picture him helping you, leaning over you while you sat at your desk, both of you staring down at the documents, his breath on your neck, his knee touching yours underneath the wood...

God, your hands were sweating. It was almost embarrassing.

I appreciate that, but I have it handled. Just a rough week,

Another buzz.

Surely you've earned a break? I won't keep you for long, just dinner.

You groaned and slid down your chair, feeling your face burn up just thinking about being in a restaurant with him. You knew it wouldn't be a short date, he was entirely too distracting. No, anything he wanted you to do would surely eat up multiple hours, and you didn't have that kind of time right now.

Next time, You texted, then grabbed your sticky notes, writing:

'Please let this guy dick you down,'

And sticking it on top of your to-do pile.

You read the text over and sighed. Dinner with him sounded like absolute bliss right now, it was almost painful how appealing it was. But you couldn't.

You turned back to your work, letting yourself fall back into the sea of paperwork.

Hours passed and you were still stuck at the office. Dark had descended a while ago, and the lights of the city loomed brightly behind your window. You stretched in your chair and sighed, rubbing your neck.

Your phone buzzed again and you reluctantly lifted it up, watching a notification for another text come in.

Dinner at 730 it is, I'll pick you up.

You froze, suddenly confused. Did you agree to something? It couldn't be.

You dialed his number and held the phone up to your ear, sitting back in your chair.

"I don't recall saying yes to dinner," You said as soon as the phone connected.

He laughed. It was a glorious sound. You felt lightheaded just hearing it.

"Alright, you're busy, I understand, how about I come to you?"

You heard keys in the background, he was definitely leaving. Shit.

"Elijah, no, I don't... I can't," You said, scrambling around your office, trying to make it look less... destroyed. You shoved a pile of papers under the desk, along with a few cups and an empty wine bottle.

"I'm bringing take-out and coffee. You sound like you could use the caffeine," He said, completely ignoring you.

You took a deep breath and closed your eyes, dropping back into your chair.

"I don't want you to get bored," You said, weakly.

He laughed.

"Don't worry about me, darling, I have a secret."

You blinked. "Oh? What's that?"

You could hear him getting into a car in the background, then the deep rumbling of an engine as it revved to life.

"Being with you could never bore me. Tell me your address,"

You smiled. "I'll text it to you,"

He hung up and you sunk deeper into your chair, a goofy grin plastered on your face.

You spent the next twenty minutes trying to make your office presentable, mostly just moving papers off the floor and out of sight.

When he knocked on the door, you paused for a moment, before opening it. He was wearing a button up shirt and black slacks, both looking sinfully expensive and sinfully good on him.

The take-out smelled amazing, as did he.

"Your security needs updating, at the very least you should have a keypad." He said as he handed you your meal.

"Thank you," You said, ushering him inside. "I sent everyone home for the day, no need for them to stay late because of me,"

You put the food on a small table and sat down next to him on your sofa in the corner of your office, letting out a long sigh you didn't know you were keeping inside.

"That bad, hm?" He asked.

You looked at him and immediately regretted it, he was so distractingly gorgeous. His face, his lips, fuck his eyes, they had those crinkles in the corners, and that hint of mischief, his perfect jawline, everything about him set you on fire.

You shook your head and smiled. "Yes, I'm afraid so. Thank you, by the way, I haven't had time to eat all day."

"Next time I'll take you out somewhere more pleasant than this," He said, gesturing around to the cluttered office.

Your phone rang on your desk and you got up and scrambled over to answer it, Elijah giving you a confused look.

"Yes? O-oh..." You paused, standing up and pacing around, heading towards the window, looking down at the dark city.

"How long ago?"

Elijah was listening, his eyes fixed on you, the tone of your voice, the way you held yourself. You seemed calm, but the subtle signs were all there. You were upset, no, not upset, frustrated.

"Uh-huh, yes, no, thank you,"

He wandered over to your desk, to the many papers that covered it, some were marked with red, some with black, most of them had scribbles in the margins.

"Well, what is the point of a zoning committee if they can't do their job?" You asked, your voice smooth as silk, he enjoyed hearing you speak, the slight inflections in your tone.

A yellow sticky note caught his eye and he picked it up, smiling at what it said. 

‘Please let this guy dick you down.’

He chucked and held the note up to you, raising an eyebrow.

You froze and your eyes widened, a deep blush spreading across your cheeks. You cleared your throat and tried to compose yourself, but were unable to meet his gaze.

"I'll see what I can do." You muttered, feeling utterly mortified that he found your stupid note.

Elijah stood, tucking the note into his pocket and walking towards you. His hands pressing into the glass on either side of you, trapping you.

You gulped, looking up at him, completely forgetting about the person on the phone.

"I.. I'll have that information when the exchange opens in the morning,"

He leaned forward, his lips hovering by your cheek.

"Yes, I understand," You said, your voice shaking.

Elijah grinned, his hands coming down to rest on your hips, pulling you flush against him. You could feel him, all of him, his warmth, the hardness in his pants.

"Okay, I'll, uh, talk to you later, yes, thank you."

You ended the call and let out a long sigh, looking up at him. He took the phone from your hand and threw it over his shoulder, not even bothering to look and see where it landed.

"I'm going to give you some unsolicited advice," He whispered, his hands gripping your waist tightly. "So take it for what it's worth,"

You raised your eyebrows, waiting for him to say something.

"Take a break." He said, taking your hand and giving it a light squeeze, "Let me take care of you tonight, then get back to work in the morning, tomorrow. You're burnt out, you're going to make a mistake and you won't even notice."

"Your concern is noted, but unfortunately..."

"When was the last time you slept?" He asked, cutting you off. "Properly, I mean, when was the last time you were properly rested?"

"If you're about to offer up sleeping with you as a cure, Mr. Mikaelson, I assure you, it wouldn't do any good." You said.

"What makes you think I'm offering anything, other than a little relaxation?" He asked, a grin spreading across his face.

"Well, we're already pressed up against each other, and judging by the hardness I feel against my leg, you're not exactly unaffected." You said, your hand running over his chest, his skin hot under the fabric.

"I think it would do you some good, a rush of endorphins, a change of pace, it could relieve some of this tension you're carrying around," He countered.

You felt your mouth dry up at his words. A whole slew of salacious fantasies flooded into your mind as soon as they left his mouth, and you struggled to think of a snarky response.

"It's been a while for you, hasn't it?" He said, reaching down to the hem of your dress, pushing the fabric up your thighs, his fingers brushing over the skin.

You bit your lip, his eyes were glued to yours, watching every tiny reaction with great interest.

"How long?" He asked, his lips ghosting over yours.

"A gentleman doesn't ask." You whispered, a smile forming on your lips.

"I never said I was a gentleman," He whispered, his hands coming down, hooking underneath your thighs and lifting you up and pressing you against the window.

Your legs wrapped around him automatically, your arms going around his shoulders, pulling him close.

He kissed you and you melted, the warmth of his mouth and the heat of his skin was so comforting, it felt so good. You wanted to get lost in him, feel him all over, touch him, kiss him.

"See? That wasn't so hard was it?" He teased, his teeth grazing your bottom lip.

Your phone began to ring again, and you pushed on his chest, trying to move away from him. He let you go, letting your thighs slip down his body until your feet hit the floor, the phone still ringing.

"I should..."

He grabbed your hips and spun you around, pressing you into the window, his chest against your back.

"You are in a very important meeting right now and cannot come to the phone," He said softly, his hand sliding up your inner thigh, pushing the fabric of your dress up and exposing you.

You moaned as he spread your legs with his knee as he pulled your dress up over your head, the phone finally stopped ringing.

"There, now we can be undisturbed," He said, his lips on your neck, sucking and nipping at the skin. His hands kneading your breasts, tugging at your nipples through the fabric of your bra.

Your breathing was heavy and fast, the cool glass against your skin a stark contrast to his burning skin.

You arched back against him and let out a strangled moan, his hands trailing down your body and his fingers slipping beneath your underwear.

You looked down to the streets below, the street lamps flickering and the headlights whizzing past as you gave yourself over to the pleasure of his touch.

He kissed your neck as he slid his fingers into you. You inhaled sharply at the sensation, his fingers curling and stroking over that perfect spot inside you. Your hand pressed into the glass, desperately needing something to hold onto.

Your hips rolled against his fingers as he worked them over your clit, you were starting to tremble, your thighs closing around his hand, squeezing as you started to come. He groaned in approval as he watched you come undone against the window, your arm braced against the glass and a thin sheen of sweat glistening on your forehead.

"Good girl," He whispered, his arm holding your waist, his lips kissing and sucking on your neck.

He unclasped your bra, splaying his hand across your back and pressing you up against the glass, your breasts squashed against the cold window, a hot flush spreading across your chest.

His shirt was already unbuttoned, and it was quick work for him to take off his belt and slip out of his pants. You turned your head to look at him, and god, he was beautiful. There was a patch of black hair just below his belly button, trailing down into his pants, and thick dark hair lined his arms. But when your eyes dropped down, your mouth fell open, his cock was... Just as excellent as the rest of him.

"Do you like being on display for the whole city?" He asked, enjoying the way you seemed completely enraptured by him.

"No..." You said, a mischievous smile creeping onto your face. "They probably can't see me, just some shadow against the window,"

He grabbed your chin and kissed you hard, a bruising clash of teeth and tongue, driving you to madness with every breath. His other hand was already pressing you up against the window, his hips driving his cock forward and filling you up in one swift motion.

You cried out, nails scratching the window and your chest slamming up against the glass, a chill running through you as the cold pressed into your skin.

"You are so fucking gorgeous," He hissed, his hands gripping your hips hard.

"Fuck me," You demanded, pushing back against him, grinding your hips up into him, moving in a way that caused you to choke out a breathless cry, fireworks exploding behind your eyes.

"So bossy, so demanding, are you like this with everyone or am I just lucky?" He said, his eyes traveling over every inch of your body.

"Maybe I just want you to shut up and fuck me,"

He wrapped his hand around your neck, pulling you back against his chest and holding you firmly as he fucked you.

Your knees felt weak, the grip he had on your throat restricting your airways, the pleasure burning into your lungs like hot lava. It was intense, your eyes began to water and your thighs trembled. Elijah's movements slowed, his pace becoming steady and smooth, rolling his hips gently, caressing you.

"Are you alright?" He asked, pressing soft kisses on your jawline. "You're shaking,"

You gulped and smiled, nodding. "You're just really good at this,"

"It's my favorite way to relax," He said, his lips tracing your ear.

You moaned at his touch, his lips feeling so soft against your skin.

"Look at them, look at all the little ants down below," He murmured, his thrusts increasing in intensity, his hand tightening around your throat. "Anyone could look up and see you, anyone. Your assistants, shareholders, a random stranger, just an anonymous face in the crowd, and they're all going about their night and here you are, above them all,"

It was intoxicating, looking down at the brightly lit city, even from this far up, you felt so high, you could fall into it all and lose yourself in the darkness, let yourself drown in the lights.

You pushed back against him, chasing the high he offered, your breath shallow and panting. His fingers raked down your skin, scraping over the flesh of your ribs, leaving your body covered in a trail of dark marks, claiming you.

His teeth bit into the skin of your neck as he pushed you back against the window, his hands over yours, holding them against the glass. He was rough and hard with you, snapping his hips and driving you up onto the tips of your toes.

"Mr. Mikaelson..." You moaned, struggling to keep yourself standing.

He chuckled and pulled you away from the window, throwing you over his shoulder and carrying you to the sofa. You giggled and kicked your legs, but he kept a strong hold on you, carrying you over to the large leather couch and depositing you on it.

"There," He said, leaning over you and parting your legs, "more comfortable?"

"Very." You said, biting your lip as you gazed up at him.

He knelt between your legs, sliding his hands under your ass and pulling you towards him, his mouth latching onto your pussy, licking a path along the seam.

You breathed out a sigh, closing your eyes and tilting your head back, your hands reaching for him, holding onto his hair, his shoulders, whatever you could reach.

"So, tell me," He said, taking a moment to rest his chin against your thigh, "do you agree that tis is a good way to relax?"

You huffed and sat up, pushing his head back down between your legs. He laughed and got back to it, letting you pull his hair and fuck yourself on his face.

His tongue was warm and wet, his thumb rubbing you, stroking your clit in little circles, teasing you. You wriggled and writhed against him, his mouth, his hands, they drove you insane.

Just when you were about to come he pulled away, kissing his way up your body, licking your nipples, your neck, your ear, trailing soft kisses on your face until you opened your eyes and looked at him.

He kissed you hard, your thighs trembling. His cock was hard against you, pressing back inside you. You moaned into his mouth as you adjusted to the feeling of him, the sensation of being filled up.

You loved it, the way you tightened around him, pulling him closer, deeper. He was breathing hard, the corners of his mouth twitching in a smile, his gaze constantly shifting, flickering from your mouth to your eyes, down to your chest.

His hand brushed against your cheek as he leaned back and began to move, gripping your waist and holding you close, his hips rolling into yours, finding a rhythm that made your toes curl, his voice murmuring your name softly in your ear, encouraging you to let go.

He smiled as you arched off the couch and dug your fingers into his skin, holding him to you. He wanted you close, skin-to-skin, every inch of you touching him, melting together.

You opened your eyes and found yourself staring up at his face, his skin, slightly flushed, his eyes were bright and he was grinning. The sex was turning into something more intimate, an actual bond was developing between the two of you.

"I like you," you whispered, grabbing his arm and pulling him close, your lips brushing against his, "I really like you,"

"Yeah?" He said, kissing you deeply.

"Yeah," you agreed, holding his face in your hands,

"It really like you too," He said, his thrusts growing deeper, stronger, more intense. He was chasing his own release now, desperate to feel you clenching around him, moaning his name.

You gasped and clung to him, your nails digging into his skin, your head thrown back, your eyes shut tight as you rode out the waves of pleasure flowing through you, and he followed right behind you, coming with a grunt, a low, quiet sound that made your stomach flutter.

He pulled out and sat down next to you, pulling you into his arms, your back against his chest. You could feel his breath tickling your neck, his chest rising and falling against your back.

He pulled the blanket that was folded on the back of the sofa over the two of you, wrapping it around you and holding you close.

The room was quiet, silent, save for the muffled noise of the city below, the cars and the traffic, the random sounds of the distant city.

You felt relaxed, actually relaxed, like you were floating. His warm arms around you felt like a cocoon. He was watching you, his eyes tracing over your body, his fingertips featherlight against your bare skin.

"Can I pencil you in for another meeting tomorrow?" You asked with a grin, your fingers grazing along his forearms.

He pulled your sticky note out of his pocket, sticking it to your forehead, a soft rumble coming from his chest as he chuckled.

"Hmm, I don't know, do you want to make a habit of this?" He asked, his hands smoothing down the sides of your body.

"Would that be so bad?" You asked, leaning back against his chest, letting him wrap his arms around you.

"Not at all, it's what I've been wanting since I met you," He admitted, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

"Me too, you've been on my mind constantly," You said, tilting your head back and kissing him.

"I know," he said with a cheeky smile, tapping on the note stuck to your head.

"Oh, very funny," You rolled your eyes, relaxing against him, your eyes growing heavy as the weight of the day's events caught up to you.

"Sleep, love," He whispered, pressing a kiss to the side of your head, his arms tightening around you.

"But I have so much to do," You protested, trying to sit up.

He held onto you, keeping you from moving, you didn't put up much of a fight. You wanted to stay right there.

"Work can wait until tomorrow, I have no intention of letting you go anywhere anytime soon," He said, his lips finding your temple, planting a soft kiss there.

"I can't just stay here," You said, a smile on your face as he ran his hand through your hair.

"Why not? You're the boss, you can do whatever you want," He said, nuzzling your neck.

You sighed, giving in and relaxing in his arms. It had been a while since you'd felt so content.

"Alright, maybe I can spare a few hours," You said, closing your eyes and allowing sleep to wash over you. And for the first time in a long time you fell asleep without a worry in the world.

♡♡ Tag-List ♡♡

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[hyun0o]

The Train Ride To Our Paradise

Yu Jimin x Fem!Reader [Fluff]

Enjoy(°=°)

°=°

The heavenly sky glowing, sharing it's warm air and atmosphere to the world. Clouds moving like sloths and forming shapes that anyone can imagine it to be. The roses blooming with perky thorns, not wanting their beauty to get disturbed.

Warm and welcoming air breezing though the trains open window. What type of person would even open a trains window? Well, Yu Jimin is the exact type of person to do that. But of course, asked me first, her one and only loving girl friend for permission.

"Y/n?" The dino obsessed girl called out to me, I was sitting in front of her. Her hand on the window handle making it clear on what she wanted to do. I teasingly sighed while shaking my head.

"Only for a few minutes alright?" I said with a soft voice. I know that my lover is very intrigued by this type of public transport. It's not a normal train like you use in the cities, but a train in the green forest and plains with many views of waterfalls and jaw dropping mountains. I could even say that this train was one of her dream ride. Well, our dream ride. Whatever Jimin loved, I loved it as well, wether it was too silly or what.

But there was one thing that we both always loved. And that is;

Lauterbrunnen, Switzerland. To see the beautiful architecture home styles, the devine well kept nature that looks too good to be real and of course, the wonderful cows. Today is our 3rd year anniversary, and so what do you do when it's conveniently yours and your lovers break from work? You go to the place where your dreams resonate with each other since day 1. At least that's what I thought. As I was spacing out, I suddenly realized that jimin was almost sticking her head out of the window like a dog in a car. I immediately called to her and quickly shut the window in panic.

"Bub, come on." I said disappointedly, she could have gotten hurt, and I hate that thought in the whole entire world. She laughed lowly and reasoned that she just wanted to get my reaction. Still not breaking my sad face, she realized that I was serious and quickly apologized. Her soft small hands reaching for mine.

"I-im sorry love, did I go too far?" She asked, regret evident in her voice, face, and actions. Almost fully forgetting her wrong, I tilted my head a little and squeezed her hand tight.

"I know always sound like a worry warts but please, Jimin. Don't put yourself in danger just to tease me" I reminded her with furrowed eyebrows, the sound of the rail road tracks eating up half of the silence. She bit her lip while looking around everywhere but my direction. Feeling a bit disappointed at her reaction, I tried to pull away from her hand but then she suddenly clung to it with a firm grip. Gently pulling my my hand just to kiss it and put the back of it on her soft and warm cheek. Finally looking at me with those beautiful sharp eyes filled with determination that made me fall for her in the first place.

"You're not a worry warts honey. Your reaction was valid, I'm really really sorry... You're right, I shouldn't have let stupid jokes take over right decisions for the both of us. Thank you for telling me and always worrying for me hun." She apologized sincerely and kissed my hand once again. God, you always know how to make me fall head over hells for you Jimin. With those sweet words, sharp tone, determined expression, and affectionate actions. You're a pro at making me forgive you.

"Just never do it again please?" I pleaded with her. Jimin then cupped my cheek with her free hand and leaned closer to me. Inches away from kissing, noses simply brushing against each other, exhange of warm breaths touching our face.

"I can't make you sad twice" She whispered with the look of the most sincere person on earth, god.

"I love you Yu Jimin." Jimins eye twinkled with stars as I accidentally blurted out, a little surprised myself, I started to blush. And without any warning jimin kissed me, startled and a little worried that someone would walk in the isle, I couldn't relax to the kiss. Jimin hummed and felt my tensed body.

"Calm down baby I'm sure no one will come, and even so we'll probably hear them." My lover reassured, caressing my hand with her thumb. With trust, I nod and intertwined my fingers with hers. She smiled at me lovingly, I kissed once again. But this time, both of us enjoyed it with calm and peaceful bliss; Jimin slightly opening her mouth licking my bottom lip asking for entrance. I happily allowed her, her familiar warmth explored through my mouth and battled with my tongue for dominance. She won as I started to ran out breath, whining a little bit signaling my lover to part to breathe.

Separating, a string of saliva formed connected between my lips and Jimins. I blushed as she smirked at me with flirtatious eyes, I already know what she's thinking about without her even saying anything,

"Stop it you flirt" I whispered, still inches away from her breathing heavily from the passionate kiss we shared. She jokingly rolled her eyes and soon giggled, seeing me so up close, studying your features for the thousandth time we've been together.

”Are you falling in love with me again?" I teased, tilting my head a little with a playful grin. My lovers face immediately softened, smiling foolishly at me.

"I always fall in love with you. Everyday to be exact." Jimin said as she kissed my nose, she giggled at my flustered reaction. I hummed and pouted since I was the one who got flustered instead of my Jimin. We leaned back a little and made eye contact again, a few seconds passed not feeling awkward or shy; we both giggled at each others weirdness.

As the both of us started a new conversation, our smooth train seems to be leaving the forest and traveling to the plains with only some tress can be seen in the distance. Letting us get exposed to have an amazing view at the mountains and lovely waterfalls streaming down the ledges with elegance. The greens looking surreal with the stunning homes having an adorable architecture style. I got excited at the view, hoping to see some cute cows in the plains. Eyes stick to the window, i didn't even realize that jimin sat next to me.

"Enjoying hun?" She asked lovingly while she rubbed my back. 8 turned to her with stars in my eyes and a big grin.

"Are you excited baby? Our dream is finally coming true!" I exclaimed, Jimin chuckled at my enthusiasm nodding. She rested her forehead to mine and closed her eyes with a sigh.

"My dream cam true 3 years ago, and I'm forever thankful for that my Y/n" She confessed and looked at me with her gorgeous eyes filled with happiness and satisfaction. I can't help but feel warmth in my cheeks, my lover is too honest, but that's what I love about her the most.

"So cheesy" I jokingly whispered, another grin forming, pulling in closer to her, I peck her lips and rested my head on her shoulder. "I love you Yu Jimin" I said with fondness closing my heavy eye lids and letting my body relax with my soulmate. I can sense Jimins smile ear to ear, both of us feeling content at the feeling of bliss. No matter where you two were, it always felt like home

"I love you more Y/n"

This took awhile, I made it last night trying not to fall asleep lol. I hope you guys liked it, I'm about to post some smut and some angst soon so stay tuned (°=–).

Also side note, Jimin looks so cute in the pics, she's too precious.

[chaotic-mystery]

really missing my man dbf joel 🙁 spare some fluff… leading to smut… perhaps reader sitting on his lap tweezing his eyebrows or something idk and u can make up the rest

A/N: this one is so cute literally shut the hell up 😭It got super smutty im so sorry-

"Joel stop moving it's going to hurt the more you pull away!" You breathily laughed in his face as he furrowed his brows and turned away from you, rubbing the skin under his brow gently. You shifted in his lap and moved closer, placing a few gentle kisses on his jaw as a way to say sorry.

"Darlin, you're drawin' blood! I'm gonna bleed out for christ's sake!" he groaned as you pinched his chin between your fingers to move his face back into place for you to continue. The tweezers closed in on another hair that needed to go, and with a swift movement you tugged and Joel let out another one of his old man sounds. His fingers squeezed on your waist every time you pulled another hair, trying to make his eyebrows have some sort of shape to them.

The window next to you was wide open, the breeze sending chills up your arms and down your back. Joel noticed the goosebumps on your skin and pulled at the blanket he was leaning against on the couch, wrapping it around your shoulders as you gave him a smile. "I'm almost done, swear." You tried to give him some hope that this torturing pain would end soon, and he looked at you, waiting for your eyes to meet his. "You tellin' the truth or you bullshittin' me baby?"

You knew you could keep going, but figured you shouldn't push your luck with it. Giving him a playful offended look, you put the tweezers down on the coffee table next to you as a sign you were done. "Thank fucking god, that was hell. Next time use a fuckin razor or somethin'" He muttered as he pulled you against his face, his nose brushing against your chest as your hands fiddled with a curl on the back of his head. "Learn from me and don't run from pain, sweetie." you joked, kissing his forehead.

His hands creep up your shirt and rub your sides softly as he looked at you with those beautiful brown eyes of his that made your body feel like jelly every single time. "Thanks, sweetheart. 'Preciate you doing that." his words were muffled as he kissed your bare stomach, holding your shirt up just underneath your breasts. "No problem, just don't move so much next time, yeah?" Joel sat up and smirked at you before he asked, "Should I spank your ass with my belt until you're begging me to stop and I'll tell you don't move so much, baby doll?" The slight image of him just ever so slowly taking his belt of made you excited, the way he stands there with his button to his jeans and the buckle undone, thumb hooked into the waistband as he let's you admire him for a quick moment.

Snapping yourself back to reality, there he sat under you, looking to be tested. "You wouldn't" was all you said, and before you knew it, he tossed you to the side, faced down on the couch as he straddled your thighs. His hands ran over your ass, smoothing your pajama shorts, the ones you thought would be a good idea to wear because of how short they are. Leaning over you and putting his body weight on you, he groaned in your ear, "You're right baby, I won't this time. I've been looking at your ass in these shorts all night and I just have to know; are you wearing any panties with these, baby doll?"

He cupped your pussy roughly inside your shorts as he sat back up, wiggling his hand around until he found your clit and rubbed it gently. "Ah, no panties. Dirty girl. I did find somethin else though." His fingers massaged your pulsating clit, using your juices as lube. His fingers glided over the bud, causing him to moan. He kept you there for what felt like ages, slowly teasing your clit until you finally choked out, "Joel please I need you to fuck me so bad, please. I need you in me right now." He didn't take long to undress and get his cock coated in the precum that he was dripping and he yanked your shorts off. A firm smack on your bare ass was given to you and he straddled your thighs once more, gripping your ass cheek as he buried himself inside your tight hole.

The pillow underneath you muffled every moan of his name you let out, every beg of yours for him to go faster. He thrusted inside you, bringing it just so it was barely in before slamming his cock back inside you. "Fuck yeah sweetheart, you take my cock so well. Such a good girl for me. Now, don't move too much darlin'" and with that came a firm paddle on your ass from his belt. You squirmed as the stinging pain shot through your ass cheek, your hand immediately covering it. "Joel you said you wouldn't" you wailed out, half mixed with moans.

He shoved your hand away as he fucked you harder, giving you another good crack on your ass with the belt. "I know sweet girl, I know." He cracked you a few more times and you tried moving away, but it was no use. The pure adrenaline rush of being pinned down under him and his belt clashing against your skin sent you spiraling. "Don't run away now baby, thought you said you don't run from pain?"

[1starqi]

Better

genre: fluff, established relationship

warnings: barely proofread

pairing: mark x reader

word count: ~500

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Now Playing: Like We Just Met (seriously it's better with the soundtrack)

Your mind is fuzzy as you’re rudely awoken by the beaming sunlight that lights the walls of your shared bedroom. You instinctively call for your boyfriend, the one you share your bedroom and life with. “Mark?” You rub your eyes and feel the sleep that you slowly brush out of your eyes. The window lets in a slight summer breeze softly through the curtains. “Hm?” He sounds just as sleepy as you feel, his voice is low and slow from waking up. “Did I wake you up?” The whole world looks blurry as you recite your morning greeting. The texture of your shirt is soft against your skin as you shift trying to keep yourself awake. He responds with the typical, “No, no.” despite the fact that there’s no way he would dare to sleep through you calling for him. He ruffles the blankets when he turns over to get a better look at you. His finger pad is calloused and rough from all the time he spends with his guitar, but they feel like the softest thing on earth as he reaches out to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “Are you wearing my shirt?” He asks, and you look down to remember that, yes, you are wearing his shirt. Last night, you found all of your comfortable shirts for sleep were cast after wearing to the laundry basket on the side of your closet. This is the first time you’ve taken one of his shirts, and you hoped it wasn’t a big deal. “Did you not want me to?” You ask and tilt your head to see him. “Sorry.” You mumble at him while he lies there, looking stunned. His eyes are wide and jaw drops just enough for his lips to part. You wonder what he’s thinking about, that is, until you see his mouth start to curve—he’s smiling. The look in his eyes can only tell you one thing, he loves you. “No, no.” He echoes his response from earlier. The difference this time is his tone. Earlier, his tone was that of weak and tired. This one is full of admiration. Your own smile forms, and he just grows even more flustered. He blinks slowly—you recall that that’s how cats show their love. He fits the role. The shirt isn’t anything of wonder—it’s soft, yes—but at the end of the day, it’s an old, plain shirt. “You’re wearing it.” A blush slowly reveals itself on his ears. “You’re wearing my shirt.” He affirms. You look at him in adoration. You knew you always had this effect on him but it’s a whole nother level when you get to see it. He blinks again and his smile grows bigger. “How did you sleep?” His voice is warm. “Well.” He reaches out and lightly traces a path along your arm with his finger. “You?” “Good.” He answered. His eyes map the features on your face. “I might like being awake better, though.” 

[64yrsold]

ACHES 10. try

18+ (please see masterlist for cw) aches masterlist previous (9)

“I’m sorry,” I choked, covering my mouth with my hand. “I can’t believe I was that drunk.”

“I promise, I didn’t mind,” he soothed, sitting me down on the bed. He sat beside me, leaning forward against his thighs. “You remember everything?”

“Most of it, I think.”

He nodded, staring at his hands. I watched the back of his neck, ashen from the moonlight.

“You were crying, most of the time.” He picked at the skin on the side of his thumb. 

I laughed, thick and empty, “Why did you ask me out to dinner, then?”

“I was intrigued by your honesty.”

“Intrigued?” I let hot, embarrassed tears wash over my cheeks. 

“You were very sweet,” he looked back at me, frowning with concern. He swiped away a tear from my face. “You were vulnerable with a stranger.”

“God,” I muttered, “I wish I knew when to shut the fuck up.”

“Don’t say that,” he was firm, “Don’t say that.” It sounded like an apology.

“Thanks for giving me a second chance, at least,” I shook my head, palming at my face to dry it. “I know I’m crying again, but–”

“You’re pretty,” his fingertips found my jawline, “When you cry.”

“Only then?” I smirked, lip quivering. My skin warmed where he touched me. He licked his lower lip, shaking his head. He palpated for my jawbone, tracing it up to my ear. 

“Your eyes get all glassy and bright,” his other hand brushed over my lower lashes. My breath froze in my lungs as I tried to stay still for him. “Your lips blush up, all flowery and springtime.” My lips parted for his thumb, which pulled and pushed my bottom lip. 

I was burning from his attentive gaze, his wide-open pupils and concentrated brow. I was convinced he could see the heat coming off me. 

“And your skin,” he kissed the center of my cheek, open-mouthed and wet. “You taste like the sea.”

“I–” Any words I tried to form caught in my tongue as he tasted my skin, inhaling as he moved down my jaw. He exhaled, a sweet breeze, cooling my flushed cheek. 

“You’re moonlight on water,” he kissed my neck. “You’re distant rain, clouds falling into the horizon.”

I laughed, pulling back to look at him, “What are you, then?” 

He shrugged, blinking, “I’m watching.”

I bit my lip, trying to find something funny to say, distracted by the warmth spilling inside of me. Uncapped love, sweetness, appreciation. 

“You’re the sun,” I decided. “Putting the clouds back together.”

“How many times have you used that line?” he teased, rolling his eyes sarcastically. 

“And how many girls have you brought back to this hotel?”

“Just one,” he placed a hand on my thigh. “Spent the whole night singing her to sleep, though.”

“Want to do something else this time?” I asked, reaching for his neck. I felt his pulse in his neck, heavy and erratic. It matched mine, ringing in my fingertips.

He nodded, “But I’m not going to fuck you.”

I was flustered at his direct statement, feeling as if he had skipped over paragraphs of conversation.

“Not that—“ he looked at me closely, “Not that I don’t want to.”

“Do you want permission?” I pulled a curl over his forehead, watching it flick over his eyebrow. 

“Well, of course, but–”

“Fuck me, then.”

He laughed, short and breathy, “I just thought you might want to take it slow.”

“We can do it slow,” I replied, all sultry and smoke. I watched his eyelashes, drooping over his honey eyes, beat like wasp wings. He exhaled, restrained.

“I need a cigarette.”

I giggled, getting up and standing at the balcony door. I watched his silhouette heave, inhaling and exhaling in giant waves. He shook his hair over his forehead, and got up to follow me. He sat against the brick of the hotel, lighting his cigarette in the dark. I remembered how I used to be afraid of lighters, afraid of any sort of fire. It seemed silly now, watching him fiddle with his black lighter, starting the flame and cutting it off, controlling it. He raised an eyebrow, noticing me staring.

“You have nice hands,” I pointed to the fingers wrapped around his cigarette. 

He exhaled the smoke from his lungs, “Thanks.” 

“Perfect size, nice knuckles.”

He squinted, “What are you thinking about?”

I laughed. He just stared at me through the haze. I was lightheaded and electrified by the freezing winter air, trying to relax and keep from shivering. I was drawn in by the red ember between his fingers.

I sat in front of him, our knees nearly touching, running my fingers over the outer line of my lips. I listened to his breathing shift as I pulled down my lower lip, sliding two fingers into my mouth. I let him watch my fingers move along my tongue, his own hand twitching on his thigh.

I closed my lips around my knuckles, hollowing my cheeks. 

“Fuck,” he groaned, “I can’t do it, baby.”

I pulled my fingers from my mouth with a pop, “How many times do I have to convince you it’s okay?”

“I just… No matter what you say, I’m just not going to believe you.”

“Why not?” I tried not to feel rejected, reaching for the last remains of his cigarette. I inhaled, shaky and uneven. I coughed, flicking the cig off the balcony.

“I don’t know.” He stood to go back inside. I was happy to follow him back into the warmth of the room. He sat in the armchair, where I had awoken with him such a short time ago, his fist curled under his chin. 

“You know,” I sat on the bed. “Come on, tell me.”

He closed his eyes, rubbing his forehead, “I just realized that– I want to see you again. Okay?”

“That’s stupid,” I said. “Having sex won’t make me unreachable.”

“I don’t know.”

“We can wait for another time,” I shrugged. “Any time you want.”

“You told me you liked to use sex to replace intimacy.” The words spilled out like a confession.

“That doesn't even make sense,” I frowned. “Sex is intimacy.”

“It’s what you told me,” he stretched out his legs. “And I’ve been thinking about it since you said it.”

“I don’t even understand it, okay?” I laughed. “I was just drunk.”

“But,” he brushed a hand through his hair, “I want to find that line, the one delineating sex and intimacy.”

I watched him run his fingers over the armrest.

“What if we replaced sex with intimacy? What if we reached the very edge of intimacy, if we strained it and found its base elements?” He sighed. “What if we’re all craving intimacy, and letting sex distract us?”

“I’d try,” I whispered. “If it means I’ll see you again.”

“Let’s try, then,” he patted his leg. “Come here.”

-> next (11)

[beautifultypewriter]

So Close ~ Boromir

Requested: Yes / As part of my prompt bingo. Suggested by @retvenkos

Warnings: None

Word Count: 945

Pairing: Boromir x reader

Prompt: Almost Kiss

Summary: Reader and Boromir share a moment together. Unfortunately, Faramir has never had good timing.

A/N: Does anyone remember the prompt bingo? I do. It haunts me. But look, I’ve started!! I’m the actual worst and I’m so sorry. Also, I did not listen to the song So Close from Enchanted like a million times while writing this.

The music followed you out into the garden as you slipped out a side door as quickly and as quietly as you could. As soon as the cool night air hit your face, you sucked in a large breath. It was nice to mingle with everyone and let yourselves feel light and happy after everything that had happened, but the crowd could still be stifling. You’d only be gone for a minute, and no one would even notice. Making your way over to a far garden wall, you leaned against the stone, looking up at the stars littering the sky. “My apologies. I didn’t mean to disturb you.” You spun quickly as the low voice reached your ears. Boromir was standing near the same door you had exited from, looking unsure.

 You smiled at him, turning back towards the sky, “You’re not disturbing me.” Boromir smiled as he stepped closer to you, moving to lean against the wall, his hands clasped behind his back. With a quick glance at the man next to you, you smirked, “Are you hiding from your own festivities?” You watched him bow his head, his hands unclasping and moving to rest on the wall in front of him.

 Boromir chuckled as he shook his head, “Just in need of some air.” He looked over at you, “The well wishing seems to never cease.” You tried to hide your laughter from him, your hand moving up to rest on your cheek and your head turning. You could feel his eyes on you, and you were thankful for the breeze that cooled your face.

 When you were sure you had composed yourself, you looked back at him, turning your body so that your hip pressed against the wall, “I suppose that now would not be the best time to wish you a happy birthday, then?” Boromir chuckled again and you let your hand drop as you laughed along with him. He took a step closer to you, leaning back against the wall and crossing his arms over his chest as he looked up to the sky. You copied his movements, standing close enough that your arms brushed slightly against each other. Boromir’s jaw clenched and your heart sank as you went to take a step away, an apology ready on your lips, but your movements halted as he pushed closer, the warmth of his skin seeping through his shirt sleeve and protecting you from the chill in the air. You smiled to yourself, your gaze turning to the sky as the silence stretched between the two of you. Boromir turned towards you, pushing himself away from the wall as he moved in closer to you. Your breath caught in your throat as your hands moved to rest on the wall behind you, the stone rough against your fingertips as your grip tightened. As you tried to regulate your breathing, you looked up at the man in front of you.

 Boromir bowed his head as he spoke lowly, “There is something I’ve,” he cleared his throat, his voice barely carrying over the music, “Something I’ve been wanting to…” His hand moved up to rest on your neck, rough skin making contact with yours as his thumb moved slowly along your jaw. You managed to lift your gaze to meet his as the air around the two of you thickened. The music faded away and the wind stopped as Boromir gazed down into your eyes. He leaned even closer, his forehead skimming your own as his lips hovered just over yours. You needed only to tilt your head up a breath and your lips would be touching.

 “Brother!” You startled, your neck where Boromir’s hand still rested felt like it was on fire and you ducked your head, hoping to hide from the voice. Boromir’s eyes slipped shut as he ducked, his forehead pressing into yours for a brief moment before he was pulling away from you. Faramir had his arm looped with Éowyn’s as they both moved into the garden, “We were wondering where you had run off to.” Boromir’s eyes had snapped open as he let his hand fall away from you. You missed the heat. He turned slightly to his brother, muttering some kind of reply you didn’t catch. You had turned in time to see Éowyn shoving her elbow into Faramir’s side, eliciting a quiet sound of pain from the man. She whispered harshly to him and his eyes widened as he fully took in the scene in front of him. An awkward laugh left his lips as he attempted to smile, “My apologies.” Before he could say anything else, Éowyn was pulling him away and back inside, still whispering to him.

 Boromir turned back to you, but it was too late. The air had thinned, and the world was crashing back in on you two, the music pounding in your ears, or maybe that was your heartbeat. Faramir and Éowyn were gone, but that feeling of being caught lingered in the night air and your whole body felt hot. Boromir smiled gently at you as he ran his fingertips over your cheek. You returned the smile, leaning closer to him, “Happy birthday, Boromir.”

 He nodded to you with a sigh, “Thank you.” You nodded back, taking a deep breath and looking up to the sky again. Boromir followed your gaze to the glittering stars and he sighed again. One day. Looking over at you, he held his arm out to you as he took a deep breath in. Looping your arm with his, you moved close to his side and let him lead you back inside to the festivities.

[dailydragon08]

Golden Hour

Pairing: Luke Skywalker x F!Jedi!Reader   Summary: The evening light makes you appreciate Luke even more as the two of you relax before bed. Rating: M Warnings: past/future sexytimes are implied, but nothing described. A/N: "Remnants" is a series of one shots in no particular order (but can be read in chronological order on my masterlist) about the budding relationship between you and Luke as  he trains you in the ways of the Force. Reader and Luke are married and running a Jedi academy together in this one (TBOBF era). See my masterlist (linked in pinned post) for more. Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated. Enjoy!

***

The setting sun through the windows turned Luke’s already tanned skin even more golden, the sun picking up the different shades of brown and blonde in his hair. The rays caught his eyes just right in a way that reminded you of the sky above your Jedi academy, crinkling around the corners as he smiled at you from where he leaned against the headboard of your shared bed.

You smiled back, stroking the lines with your thumb before moving to the faint scar on his cheek and above his lip. He watched you with loving eyes, brushing the backs of his fingers against your jawline as you traced the web of scars from the emperor’s Force lightning. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he was some sort of mystic Force being laying in your bed: lounged against the mountain of pillows that were now strewn everywhere, tanned, muscled chest on display, black pants that hugged him perfectly in all the right places. 

Luke’s fingers trailed from your jaw down the curve of your neck to the collar of the black v-neck you wore, his eyes following close behind. “I love seeing you in my shirts.”

You leaned forward to brush your lips against his. “Good, because I love stealing them.”

He chuckled and kissed you. “Yes, I know. I still don’t know where half of them are.”

“Hey, I put them back!”

He laughed and tucked your hair behind your ear. “No, you don’t.”

“I mean, I do when I’m done with them.”

“Oh, and when will you be done with the current missing ones?”

You shrugged, sliding your hand back up his chest, down his muscled bicep, and into his hands. “Soon…ish.”

He shook his head and gave you a toothy grin, playing with your fingers in his own. “Emphasis on the ish.”

“I mean, they won’t smell like you soon, so I’ll have to rotate them anyway—and how would you know? All your shirts practically look the same, so maybe I am rotating them and you just haven’t noticed.”

“Wha—hey! They’re easier to match if they’re all the same! I’m being practical!”

You laughed so hard your body pitched forward. 

He smiled and met you halfway to kiss your forehead, nose, and lips before wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you to lean against him. His smile faded, but the spark in his eyes remained as he continued playing with your fingers in his. “They’re so small.”

You smiled and nestled into the warm skin of his chest and neck. “Sorry.”

“No, I like it—although it did make finding a ring for you a bit stressful. I wasn’t sure if you and my mother would have the same size hands.”

You tilted your head back to look at him. “And you and Leia are still sure you want me to have it?”

He softly kissed your knuckle just in front of your engagement ring, rubbing the wedding band beneath with his thumb. “Yes, more than anything.”

You smiled and nuzzled into his golden skin, watching the sunset over your Jedi academy from the secluded bedroom window. The little pond in your and Luke’s backyard sparkled in the light as frogs hopped to and fro, the breeze rustling the leaves of the trees and floating in through the open glass pane. Luke sighed as he brushed the tip of his nose against your cheekbone, his hand gently sliding under your shirt to draw shapes in the skin of your back. As you tilted your head to look up at him, the sun caught just behind his head, giving him a halo in the evening hour. He let out a shuddery breath before murmuring your name and giving you a deep, lingering kiss. 

You couldn’t help but smirk and he tilted his head questioningly. “Wanna go again?”

He beamed. “Yes.”

[ginkuki]

lady ...so mysterious

omg i was mistaken i did in fact have a non gaalee centric wip on the list. this is my sequel-prequel to Blood Sky Morning - my sirens gaaleesbians fic. it's the kakagais discussing lee going overboard but takes place after the original fic! it is named 'lady' because, idk i just think lady kakashi is fit 😌 i like women.

thank u v much for asking teehee

a snippet down yonder!

According to rumour, Kakashi was born wrapped up in the eye of a storm. Her mother, The White Fang, had given birth in the lull, then had gone right out and ordered her women to sail back into it. With Kakashi held snugly against her breast, they had torn through gale and rain.

As it is, Kakashi has no memories of the Hatake Sakumo that birthed her. She knows of her mother as nothing more than a legend. An old wive’s tale. A scatter of bones on the seafloor.

“Come back to bed, my darling.” Gai’s voice is sleep-low when she wraps an arm around Kakashi’s waist, swaddled in their sheets and facedown in her pillow. Outside the ship, the crash of water is more of a lullaby than anything else could be, though the sweet press of Gai’s lips to her shoulder is damn close.

“In a second.” Kakashi scrubs her hand over her cheek, where her scar itches with the cold breeze sneaking through cracks in the wood. “Sorry to wake you.”

Gai has always been so very strong. Stronger now when she sees the very set of Kakashi’s jaw and takes the initiative to sit up, drag her into her lap, to cradle her, rock her gently and sweetly. “You’re thinking about her, aren’t you?”

“And who is her?”

“The girl. The one you lost last week.”

Ah. The girl. The girl so naive, who had leapt from The Skirmisher before Kakashi even knew she had snuck onto it. She had swum towards certain death and Kakashi was powerless to stop it. The raw wounds on her wrists from rope-chafe still sting in the ocean spray. Gai wasn’t to know that Kakashi hadn’t been struggling to maroon herself, but to save another from the same fate, and Kakashi can’t dare feel anger for that.

Gai only did what she did best. She wore her mantel of saviour well - even if, this time, she saved the wrong one.

“Do you harbour regrets over not letting me free?” Kakashi asks, biting back an ocean’s worth of her own.

Gai’s thumb stills over Kakashi’s shoulder, the meandering stroke that brings goose pimples to flesh and a crab’s-leg-tickle of satisfaction deep within her soul. If she is offended, she only presses a full-lipped kiss to Kakashi’s jaw and says, “Never. In another life, I may have freed you and saved her, but you may have taken her fate. You may have joined your mother in the murky depths and our beloved ship would need to find a new Captain. What’s done is done, my love.”

“I would’ve deserved it.” Kakashi sighs, nose pressed into the hollow between Gai’s collarbones. Her own breath washes back over her, hot and salted. “The losses I’ve been responsible for are… immense. You should never have forgiven me for Lee.”

The breath Gai sucks in is deep, whooshing past Kakashi’s ear with all the force of a storm, the batter of wind against their hatches. With her voice wrung to near-death, she bends down to ensure that these words are for Kakashi only. “I never held you responsible. You forgave me - can’t you allow yourself the same kindness?”

“Never.” Kakashi brushes her lips over Gai’s collar, thoughts reforming into hard-edged silver. She thinks of Neji, innards splayed by talons sharper than any cutlass; of her own blindness; of the scar she’d left in Gai’s daughter’s leg. She wraps these thoughts around her skin and lets them dig in tight enough to bleed.

[eddysocs]

Page Six — Chapter One (Dog Disaster Leads To Unlikely Friendship)

Summary: An incident while out jogging leads Jocelyn to meet Beverly Hills housewife Kyle Richards, and to say she was starstruck would be a bit of an understatement.

Word Count: 1,259

Warnings: None

Jocelyn jogged along the now familiar path down the road from her shiny new house, feeling the morning breeze against her skin and the steady rhythm of her feet hitting the pavement. She didn’t usually go out this early, but with Paris fashion week coming up, she’d upped her jogging routine to twice a day to keep fit. Once in the early morning, and once just before dark.

Just as she was pondering her outfit line up for the trip, the tranquility of her morning run was suddenly shattered by a flurry of movement coming from around the next curve and the sound of rapid paw steps.

Before she could figure out what was up ahead, a large fluffy dog came shooting around the bend and barreled into her legs, sending her sprawling onto the ground. She landed on the neatly trimmed grass of someone's lawn with a soft thud, completely disoriented as the dog enthusiastically licked her face.

“Ugh—okay, okay, I get it,” Jocelyn laughed, trying to push the dog’s face away with both hands. “I’m down, no need to keep licking me.”

She managed to grab hold of the dog’s collar, squinting at the name tag. Storm, it read. Now why did that sound so familiar?

Meanwhile, the dog showed no signs of letting up on her, clearly thrilled with the attention, or the fact that it had tackled a stranger to the ground, Jocelyn really couldn’t be sure. She was about to try and get to her feet when she heard a voice off in the distance, growing louder as the dog's owner approached.

"Storm! Storm, where are you?"

Jocelyn looked towards the direction of the voice, raising her hand, though she doubted she could be seen with the dog still holding her down. "Over here," she called for emphasis.

Moments later, a woman came rushing into view, her face flushed, though clearly relieved to see her dog had stopped its escape. Hardly able to see her beyond the mass of fur that was obscuring her vision, Jocelyn offered another small wave as Storm gave another lick to the side of her face.

The woman gasped as she reached them, immediately pulling Storm back by the collar. "Oh my gosh, I am so sorry about my dog! She can get a little overexcited." The woman offered an apologetic smile. "I’m Kyle, by the way."

Jocelyn froze, still a bit dazed from the furry, slobbery onslaught she’d just endured. Besides a couple of grass stains and some dirt on her hands, she seemed to be fine, but the sudden uptick in her heart rate had her momentarily concerned. And then she started to put the pieces together. Storm. Kyle. Oh. That Kyle.

Then she realized Kyle was holding her hand out to her in order to help her up off the ground. After a few seconds of hesitation, she let Kyle help her up. Once on her feet, she brushed off the dirt from her leggings and adjusted her hair, her mind still trying to process what just happened. When she finally got a good look at Kyle —those gorgeous eyes, perfect makeup, and that apologetic smile that was way cuter than it had any right being— she went momentarily slack jawed.

Kyle raised an eyebrow, her smile faltering a little. "Are you okay?"

Jocelyn snapped back to reality, her face burning in embarrassment. "Yeah, I’m fine. Just...wasn’t expecting to be tackled by a dog this morning." She chuckled awkwardly. "I’m Jocelyn, by the way."

"Nice to meet you, Jocelyn," Kyle replied warmly.

As Jocelyn dusted herself off further, her eyes drifted to the side, and that’s when she noticed the cameras. A couple of them were positioned a few feet away, capturing the entire scene. She blinked, suddenly hyper aware of her every move.

"Oh…you’re filming?" Jocelyn asked, feeling a little stupid for the obvious question.

Kyle gave a sheepish smile. "Yeah, we’re in the middle of filming this week. Sorry if it caught you off guard. I can totally make sure they cut this out if you want!"

Jocelyn glanced back at the camera crew, still feeling a little self conscious, but she forced a smile. "It’s fine. I mean, it’s not every day you get run over by a dog on camera. It’ll be a funny story someday."

Kyle laughed, reaching down to ruffle Storm’s fur. "You handled it like a pro, though. Storm’s usually more…gentle. A big love bug, really."

Jocelyn smiled, the initial shock fading as she adjusted to the unexpected turn of her morning jog. "Well, I’ll take it as a compliment."

Kyle shifted on her feet, suddenly looking embarrassed again, her gaze dropping to Storm and then back to Jocelyn. "Still, I feel terrible about this. I mean, you were just minding your own business, and my dog comes barreling into you like that. Is there anything I can do to make it up to you?"

Jocelyn paused, momentarily surprised by the offer. She hadn’t expected Kyle Richards to be so thoughtful. It wasn’t every day a Real Housewife was asking how they could make something up to her, especially in such a down to earth way. It felt a little surreal.

"Honestly, it’s fine," Jocelyn began, but then an idea popped into her mind. She had a perfectly reasonable request. "Actually, if you’re serious about making it up to me, why don’t you join me for lunch? My husband’s in town, and we’re having a little get together later to prepare for Paris fashion week. He’s a designer. I’m sure you’d love some of his pieces. You may have even heard of him? Aiden Page?"

Kyle’s eyes lit up with interest. "A fashion designer, huh? That sounds like fun. I’d love to come if you’re sure it’s no trouble."

"No trouble at all. It would be great to have you over. You’ll get a chance to meet Aiden, and we can talk more…" Jocelyn trailed off, wondering if the cameras would still be involved. Either way, she wasn’t going to miss this opportunity. She'd sign papers, or whatever she had to do to get even a minute more with Kyle. It’s not like she was camera shy.

"That sounds perfect. I’d love to meet Aiden. Maybe we can exchange ideas for Paris Fashion Week too! I’m always looking for new designers to wear."

"Trust me," Jocelyn said with a smirk, "Aiden will have plenty to show you. I’m pretty sure he’ll be thrilled to get some input from you. Just let me know when you’re free this afternoon, and we can make it happen."

Kyle pulled out her phone, checking over her schedule quickly. "I’m free after two. How about I swing by around then?"

"That works," Jocelyn agreed readily. The idea of spending an afternoon with Kyle Richards fully took over any awkwardness from being run into the ground by her dog. "We’ll have everything ready by then. I’m just down the street. Let me text you my address."

Kyle put her number in Jocelyn's phone and immediately a text came through with the address. Kyle's phone dinged with the notification as Jocelyn knelt down to give Storm a final pat.

"I’ll see you this afternoon, Jocelyn."

As Kyle turned to walk back toward her crew, Jocelyn couldn’t help but feel a slight flutter of excitement. Lunch with Kyle Richards. Her morning might have taken a strange, unexpected turn, but now it seemed like the day had the potential to be much more interesting.

For @flufftober

❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

❤️ -> Chapter Two

Forever Tag: @baubeautyandthegeek, @kmc1989, @curious-kittens-ocs, @fanficanatic-tw, @gcthvile, @kenjioharashotspot, @immyowndefender,

[adelaidedrubman]

COMFORT MY CHARACTER. (from this prompt list) + jestiny +☀️ - a nice day outside (requested by @simplegenius042) + 🧸 - a soft plushie (requested by @blissfulalchemist) + ✋ - a hand carding gently through their hair (requested by both!)

notes: hello hello, look who is coming in three months later to finally answer these. i am sorry for the delay and ofc no pressure to read, but i decided this would be good to pivot and post for valentine’s day. also, avoiding spoilers but if you want a visualization on 🧸 you can find it here. this is set in hook, line, and sinker verse, but the only context from it you really need is that john and jestiny are fake dating. wordcount: 2.3k warnings: animal death, fleeting detailed fantasies of violence against humans, and threats to do violence to humans. pretty tame all things considered.

A gentle breeze kicks up to ease the heat settling into Jestiny’s cheeks and tickle her jaw with the feathery ends of her hair, and as she draws in a deep inhale of the scent of pine carried on the air it dawns on her that this truly is her definition of a perfect day. 

The sun beats down on the back of her neck to bake the skin and draw a pleasant coating of sweat that flushes cool with the wind. The glittering waters of Snowshoe Lake lap gently at the thick heels of her boots stuck into mud. 

Three trout float defeated and bled dry in the cooler she pulls a fresh beer from, a fourth cutting ripples into the water as it moves to flirt with her hook. The glass on her bottle of Two Hearted Ale kisses her inner thigh with its crisp coating of frost as she props it against her leg. 

Hank is tucked away in the bib pocket of her overalls and firmly in the grips of a food coma courtesy of the extra scoop of bait Adelaide threw in for him, pointy pink fingers still curled around the batch of crickets he grew too full to finish. 

And any threat of tranquility stagnating to tedium is kept at bay by the sudden plop of her bobber to sink into the water, causing Jestiny to perk up and brace herself just in time for the satisfying tension of weight pulling against her rod. 

Jestiny licks her lower lip as she begins to reel, muscles of her arms tensing and tugging on instinct with the perfect amount of pressure to meet the force of the fish in a smooth, elegant dance — a back and forth quickly rewarded as her catch leaps from the water. An opportunity she gladly seizes, reeling it to its doom. 

She feels Hank begin to slowly stir against her chest as she pierces her knife through the fish’s brain, his head poking from her pocket for his whiskers to brush against her chin as she drops the trout into her cooler. 

A somehow still surviving cricket leaps from Hank’s clutches as he unfurls his fist in a waking stretch, landing at the top of Jessie’s head as the rest of the insects fall lifelessly into the depths of her pocket. 

“Hank,” she chides without malice, clicking her tongue against the roof of her mouth as she grins down at the opossum. “What did I tell you about goin’ and wastin’ bait?” 

Hank claws his way up Jestiny’s chest as she rewards herself with a hearty gulp of beer, climbing over her shoulder to cling to the back of her head and reach to pluck the cricket from her hair and plop it into his mouth. 

And to Jessie’s relief he doesn’t scramble back down to grab for the bait she slides onto her hook, instead remaining perched on her shoulder as she casts her line, his fingers tangled in her hair. 

Hank combs the fingers through short locks as Jestiny leans back to settle in and watch the water, his snout nudging against her as he sniffs for more bugs, licking to groom out anything he finds. 

His sharp little claws send a relaxing tingle along Jestiny’s scalp as they rake along the skin, gliding down her spine to ease the tension from her shoulders. 

Yes, in Jestiny’s mind it is truly a perfect day. And with the bright blue of the sky stretching out without a cloud in sight, she felt certain that nothing could happen to ruin —

The low rumble of an engine tears Jestiny from her thoughts, followed by the thud of a car door slamming that tells her the driver is close. 

“The fuck,” Jessie mutters under her breath as she glances to her phone. “Shouldn’t be a fuckin’ soul around here but —” 

“Ah, there’s the fisherwoman I’ve been looking for!” a devastating familiar voice calls, the surface of the water suddenly busy with the ripples of fish swimming away. 

“No,” Jestiny says before she’s even turned around. She jumps to her feet to face the man strolling towards her and shout louder, “No. Absolutely not!” 

“You certainly know how to give a lover a warm welcome,” John replies as he plants himself in front of Jessie. 

“Never fuckin’ call yourself that,” she says with a grimace, taking suspicious note of the giant, glossy gift bag slung over his shoulder. “Never call anyone that,” she tacks on, a disgusted shudder texturing the words. “And never fuckin’ bother me when I’m fishing,” she snaps. “How did —” she runs a frustrated hand through her hair, pushing it back into the face of the opossum still clinging there. “How did you even find my spot?! You stalkin’ me now?”

A sharp grin carves itself into his face to push back the modest rounds of his cheeks and deepen the sag of his laugh lines, his eyes lighting up with an irritatingly proud twinkle. 

He slides a hand beneath his vest, pulling out a sleek smartphone with a cross insignia on its case. “Scathing negative reviews of Snowshoe Lake suddenly popped up last night on Fishbrain, FishHub, ANGLR — even AllTrails and 27 Crags mentioned the nearby mountain pass being subpar.” 

“You saw somewhere with shitty reviews and figured you belonged there?”

“I figured it was the work of my clever, reclusive little angler slyly marking her territory.” A slow, dramatic bat-batting of his eyelashes punctuates the statement. “And lo and behold, here you are.”

The hinge of her jaw; her nose twitches. “I like my privacy,” she drawls slowly, so that he may understand. “Now that we’ve gone over the how, maybe we can move on to why the fuck you’re here? And when you’ll be fucking leaving?”

If it’s within the next ninety seconds, perhaps she can still salvage her perfect day. 

“Why, you haven’t been keeping track?” His tongue clicks against his teeth with a furrow of his brow in a contrived display of woundedness. “We’re celebrating our one month anniversary today!”

She snarls and bugs her eyes. “Great! Our fake relationship reached a fake milestone I wouldn’t even celebrate if it was real!”

“Do you think that attitude could have been a contributing factor to the death of your real relationship?” 

She thinks how beautiful her fishing knife would look lovingly buried to the hilt in his jugular, the sweet glug glug glug he would make choking on his own blood. She thinks about how pretty he would look with that sharp grin sliced to gape and droop like a catfish’s mouth. 

“I think interrupting my fishin’ time is about to be a contributing factor in your death,” she settles on. “The only way you’re gonna be any good to me around here is if I chop you up into little bits and use you as bait for my fucking hook.” 

“Well, for all that empty posturing you’d think you would better understand the importance of keeping up appearances,” he muses as he rifles through the bag at his side. “We’re pretending to be a happy couple — the kind that would spend their anniversary together.”

“Well, nobody’s here! So how ’bout we don’t and say we —”

Jestiny is interrupted by a hand shoving a bundle of red roses against her chest, full enough to block her vision so that she must snatch them by the tissue paper and ribbon wrapped stems to lower enough for her to glare at the man stepping back to gaze at her with a self-assured smile. 

“Aw, John,” she coos with a sweet flutter of her eyelashes and beaming smile. “You shouldn’t have,” she fusses as she leans in to stick her nose in the petals and inhale. “You really shouldn’t have. Because anyone who’d actually been dating me for a month would know —” she hurls the bouquet to the ground, stomping a foot down atop it. “That I! Fucking! Hate! Getting! Flowers!” she screams as she grinds the blossoms into the dirt beneath her boot. 

“Ah, well,” his unaffected sigh draws her attention to the repetitive shuttering sound filling the background. “Luckily, I don’t think anyone would suspect as much from looking at you.”

She looks up from crushed petals to see John holding up his phone with screen pointed towards her, her own sarcastically smiling face as she clasps a bouquet greeting her. 

“And image is what matters,” he purrs, stepping back and tucking his phone into his vest pocket just as she swings for it. 

“Then how about you get the fuck out of here before I wreck that phone and that pretty face of yours?”

He positively glows at the threat. “Come now, you didn’t really think I’d call it quits at a puny dozen roses, do you?”

“I’ll shove the next bouquet so far up your ass your mouth is gonna win an award for best rose garden!”

“Not roses,” he replies, holding out a bright red heart-shaped box. 

“Great,” she grumbles, snatching the box. “Another thing I don’t fucking wa —”

He catches her hand as it moves to throw the box to the ground. “Just open it.”

“I don’t fucking like chocolates,” she replies, holding no particular distaste for chocolates. “Especially this stupid fucking February 15th drugstore clearance aisle —”

He lifts the lid himself with a huff. 

She sees there are in fact no chocolates in the container. Instead, its five sections are filled with a menagerie of bait — a tangled ball of earthworms in the left round at the top, a school of dried minnows in the right, one pile of crickets and one of grasshoppers in the center, and a cluster of doughballs at the pointed bottom. 

“Mm,” she grunts in begrudging appreciation. She pinches the leg of a grasshopper between her fingers, lifting it above her head to offer up to Hank before she grabs the lid from John to place back atop the box. 

“Doesn’t make no goddamn sense to have doughballs and insects in the same damn container — where am I finding catfish and trout together outside of a stocked pond?” She snorts with laughter at the ridiculous thought of fishing at a stocked pond before clearing her throat and setting the heart-shaped box down by her cooler. “Still, I guess it keeps me from using you to bait my hook.”

That proud glow of his brightens until he’s absolutely luminous at her walking back of the death threat. 

“Don’t oversell the proclamations of love, Jessie dearest — it has only been a month,” he says with a dreamy sigh, leaning into her as if blooming towards the sun itself. 

“You wanna quit while you’re ahead?” she offers with a tilt of her head towards his car.

“Rule of threes, my love,” John answers breathily. “What would flowers and chocolates be without a cute stuffed animal?” 

Her eyebrow twitches. “Should have quit while you’re ahead,” she snaps. “I am a twenty-eight year old woman, not a schoolgirl looking for a teddy bear to hug at —”

Another flourish of his hand cuts her off, palm outstretched to display a soft plush of pink and gray. 

“Not a teddy bear,” he purrs. 

It’s not a teddy bear. Its round little ears are bare felt and marbled pink and black, the beads of its eyes pinpoint tiny beads, bubblegum pink tail curling around its body. It’s — 

“An opossum,” she mutters to herself, a small, giddy huff of a laugh passing through her lips against her will. She brushes her fingers against its soft faux fur before she can stop herself, and John’s free hand reaches out to cover hers and wrap it around the plush to hold it on her own before retracting his. 

She coughs and shoots him an obligatory glare before looking back to the opossum plush, eyes drawn to take notice of the opening in its middle — finding a second tiny opossum head peeking out. 

Her eyes widen, and in spite of herself she laughs out under her breath, “It’s got a baby in its little pouch…”

She pulls the smaller stuffed opossum from its place nestled inside the larger plush, holding both up in proud display to no one in particular. 

She feels the scraping of claws and a the tickle of tiny, sniffing exhales against her cheek as Hank climbs down to perch atop her shoulder and inspect. 

His clawed little hand reaches out to grasp the smaller opossum, holding it to himself in ownership, then tucking it into the pocket of Jestiny’s overalls before climbing down her chest to curl up beside it. 

“Ha!” Another laugh bursts out before she can stop it, looking up with a delighted grin on damnable reflex to check that her company saw the precious sight she did. 

Blue eyes sparkling bright with pride meet her. Jessie’s cheeks sear under their unbearable heat. 

She clears her throat. 

“Well, Hank likes it,” she mumbles, spinning on her heels to turn her back to him as she tucks the larger plush into her overalls. “Gotta keep it, I guess.”

“Is that all it takes?” John asks, his breath falling hot along the back of her neck as he crowds behind her with every step she takes back towards the shore, like a trout chasing a lure. “Perhaps Hank can put in a good word for me, then?”

“Opossums can’t talk, dumbass,” she scoffs in reply as she reaches into the heart-shaped box to pull out an earthworm to slip onto her hook. “And people who expect to be allowed to hang around while I fish shouldn’t either.”

Another dreamy sigh and a rustle of clothing against grass as weight sinks beside her in the mud. 

She focuses herself on the pleasant plop of her bobber landing in water, breathing in the crisp mountain air and ignoring the encroaching warmth of a knee casually pressing against her own as she spreads her legs to shore up her fishing stance. 

Perhaps her perfect day would have to be chalked up as another one that got away. 

An arm stretches out behind her to press its palm onto the ground on the opposite side, its owner’s head indiscreetly turned to the side to stare at her rather than the water, and this time she chooses to blame the heat crawling along her cheeks on the afternoon sun rather than the scrutiny of his adoring gaze.

But a bad day of fishing beats a perfect day of anything else, after all. 

[kitty-mactabbysh]

Flowers In the Park, Flowers By Your Bedside

Alright loves, I haven't been here in a while. I'm sorry ♡

Can't promise to be more active, but I can promise a little something.

Keeping in mind I wrote this before MWIII dropped, so this might be my last cute thing before Makarov brainrot takes over (kidding ♡)

Content Warning: Implied Major Character Injury, which includes major angst with a (somewhat) happy ending I will be writing some other time. Please, accept this peace offering for the time being.

Soap didn't remember how he got there, in his favorite park, in the middle of such a sunny day, with busy people and chatter all over him, everywhere. But who was he to question some well-deserved peace and quiet? He sat down, sketchbook in hand, and let his mind and hand wander.

After a couple of minutes and another line down, he could already picture the whole drawing in his head.

Simon.

Sweet, loving Simon Riley.

There was no one Soap loved more, or cared for in this world, than he did Simon. He was all Soap could think about, sleeping or awake.

He sketched down a few more lines, getting the feel of his partner's mask before he got carried away with drawing his eyes. Always so beautiful, so full of life.

As he focused on his little sketch, a shadow blocked over the sun. Soap knitted his eyebrows together, about to pout in annoyance when he lifted his head up, the anger melting into a bright smile.

“Simon!” He chirped, happy to see him. The corners of Ghost's eyes moved, he smiled back.

"Listen, Johnny…” He scratched his neck, looking away, which Soap always found so cute of him. “I know I'm not a good example. Or a good man. Or good at anything other than killing. But I want to be better. You make me want to be better. For you."

Soap blinked, raising an eyebrow at Ghost. The vibrant green of the park's grass swayed in the gentle breeze, and the distant laughter of children playing echoed in his ears.

'What does he mean?' He thought, not understanding why his Lieutenant sounded so hurt. Did something happen? The scent of freshly bloomed flowers filled the air, and Soap couldn't help but feel at peace. He was at peace.

"What do you mean, Simon?"

"You might be confused, yeah... I would be too." Ghost looked down, fumbling with the fabric of his mask. The sun made his hair look much blondier than it was usually, and Soap's heart skipped a beat. There he was, sitting on a weathered bench in his favorite park, getting to listen to Simon's ramblings as much as he wanted.

Just like in a dream.

"It's okay." He smiled. The warm sun rays caressed his face. "I don't need to understand you."

Ghost's chuckle sounded distant, like an echo from another world. It… didn't quite make sense.

"You've always been too good for me, you know." He reached out, hand gently brushing against Soap's cheek, which made him jump a little, like he wasn't used to it. The gentle touch felt surreal, like a phantom's caress.

“What's wrong, LT?" Soap was starting to get a little worried. "What... what happened?"

"I'm not letting you down ever again." Ghost continued, thumb running down Soap's face, resting on his lips. So gentle, but so light. "I promise I'll keep you safe next time."

Soap's eyes widened. He lifted a hand, fingers wrapping around Ghost's, expecting a reaction. Any reaction.

He got nothing.

"Simon?" He called out, his voice a mixture of confusion and slight panic.

"When you wake up, Johnny...” Ghost's voice was distant again. “Know I will be here for you.”

He smiled down at Soap once again, hand retreating no matter how much the other wanted him to keep it there. He had no strength to stop Ghost at all.

“Wait…” He whispered, watching the love of his life walk away. “Please, don't go…”

•••

The faint bip of machinery was anxiety-inducing. Ghost's jaw snapped shut. They told him Johnny would wake up in a couple of weeks or so. Maybe less if he was strong. He knew Soap was. Knew his Sergeant well.

He only wished that Soap was awake, so he could share his regrets with him.

Let him down again. Just like in Las Almas. But he would fix this.

There was not going to be a next time.

He moved his hand towards Soap again, holding his fingers tightly, eyes closed.

“You know I love you… don't you, Johnny?”

For both of their sakes.

“Yes, I do.” Soap replied, his tone soft as he held Ghost's hand back. Maybe Simon didn't realize it yet… but he would be fighting this fight. And he would win.

[magic-is-something-we-create]

Whispers Snippet - (3/?)

Happy not-MS Monday!! Word count: 640 Content warnings: depiction of smoking/smoking addiction. In which Marika's emotions war with her past and the man in front of her.

The night air is thicker in Serva than it ever was in Alna. It reeks of people, of leather and spice and heady perfume even through the cutting cold of the breeze that dives into the ravine. Dust trickles from the level of homes and roads above, mixing with the cold fog to dampen the lamps lining the street into the distance.

Both mix with the acrid trail of cigarette smoke that leads me to Ivan, hunched over the railing beneath the closest lamp, mask discarded in the small drift by his feet and hood down to let the cold bite at his ears.

Neither of us say anything for the long moment after I step up next to him. In the silence, after watching his hands shake for a little too long when he lights the next smoke, I watch the strip of stars that are visible between the cluttered walls overhead.

As the edges of the thin clouds first catch a hint of the green auroras, he snuffs the butt of this second cigarette.

“I’m sorry,” he croaks, still gazing at the yawning darkness below as he flicks the smoldering remains down into the depths.

I don’t know what to say, so I watch him dig in his cloak for another in silence.

“I still--” His voice cracks as he takes out the box. “I don’t know how to do it. How to tell someone... tell them their life is over.”

He sighs. Puts it to his lips, and plucks out his lighter.

“You deserved to know what you were getting into,” he mumbles. “I’ll never be able to make up for that. I’m sorry.”

It is my turn to sigh, to lean against the railing with the flats of my palms, letting the ice crystals dig into my skin as I soak in his words. As I hear the choke in his voice over and over again, in tandem with that of his realization in [redacted]’s home.

Ten years.

Ten years of hoping for an apology, a plea, a reconciliation--and hearing it now does not help. It does not fill the void of what I had hoped my life would become, of what I still want it to be, should I ever find a way to escape.

It does not fix the hollow in my chest that burns like a smokestack when I think of the week he had alone with me to figure it out.

But though I hate him, though his apology can never be enough, will never be enough--I don’t think I could ever hate someone enough to reopen the kind of wound left in him today.

I can heft this rage another day.

So, because I have room for neither forgiveness nor hate in me right now, I change the conversation instead, starting by putting a hand out for a cigarette of my own.

He obliges after a moment’s hesitation, hands shaking and jolting like a rope bridge under a dragon’s weight as he passes me the box and the lighter, his skin almost indistinguishable from the metal in temperature when our fingers brush. I use the time it takes to bully a flame from the flint to choose my next words, stamping down the anger and the desire in equal measure even as a shock runs up my spine.

I notice the pack is half-empty when I pass it back.

“You go through all of that tonight?” I ask, after drawing in a thick breath and letting the smoke trickle out of my mouth like the light of the auroras.

He grimaces, a guilty twinge in his jaw. “Yes.”

“Did it help?”

“... No.”

“Does it ever?” When he shakes his head, I eye the pocket where he squirreled them away. “Just an excuse for the air, then?”

“Sure.”