#(also the way he picks at the rest of her food - the 'done with this?' the only thing they say - and the framing through the window

[writersdrug]

Simon "Ghost" Riley is the kind of man who:

In your shared home, always sits with his legs spread. Manspreading king. Adores it when you cross your arms and give him a disapproving look, saying there's no room for you. "Course there is, luv. Jus' sit between my thighs."

Refuses to let you do simple tasks around the house, like making tea, folding his underwear, or putting away the dishes. One might think it's a sweet, husbandly gesture - but he's just super picky. You made tea in the microwave once, and now you're banned from ever touching his tea stash. Likes his underwear folded in a specific way, and you don't understand the importance of it. He got tired of you stuffing his underwear in his drawer, so now he folds it himself. And the dishes? Couldn't stand how you put them away. "There's no rhyme or reason to 'em." "I didn't think there had to be, Si-" "Just gimme the damn bowl." Fewer chores? You aren't complaining.

Looks like he's always on edge - and he is, kinda. When he's out with you, he can't help but be alert and watchful, and extremely protective of you. You've tried to get him to loosen up - it's the supermarket, what could happen? - but have just come to accept it as his nature. Plus, you get that giddy feeling when you see other men look straight down at the floor, avoiding Simon's stare as the two of you pass.

Is the grumpiest, poutiest, and most indignant man ever when he gets sick. Doesn't want you doting on him in case you catch whatever he has. But, wait - where are you going? "Get your ass back in this bed - 'm cold." Grumbles like a child when you force him to let you get up to grab him soup, tea, or medicine. And no, he doesn't care how sick he is, he's not wearing that stupid, floppy ice pack hat.

Brings Johnny over unannounced, and you've grown used to it. The moment you hear that Scottish yapping out the front door as the key unlocks, you grab a third plate for dinner - he insists you don't need to feed him, but you always make extra for Simon's lunch the next day regardless, and the last time he'd said that, he ended up grabbing an extra fork and picking from Simon's plate. Which, of course, had Simon up at 1 am making instant ramen because he was still hungry, but didn't have the heart to ask you to make him a decent meal. So, yes, Johnny would be fed.

Loves spoiling you on your birthday. What is a man if not someone who spoils his partner rotten? Orders in food from your favorite bakery, sets all your presents neat and nice on the table (the excellent wrapping job done by yours truly, Gaz), flower petals sprinkled on the ground and the table top (also Gaz's idea), and a seat on his lap so for you while you open your presents. Loves watching your face light up, and each little "you remembered?!" fall from your lips as you open each gift. Scoffs and shifts in his seat. "I's not that much of a fuss, luv..." as you squeal excitedly, but you know he's biting back a proud smile. The blush, he can't even attempt to hide.

Is somehow a magnet for your young nephews. Every time he comes along to your sister's place, he's either making conversation with her husband in the living room, or he's interrogated and cornered by her two sons. And, lord help him, he doesn't understand it either. He'd always expected kids to look at him like a monster, but, especially with these two, that was never the case. They'd ask him for stories about "being in war" - half of the time, he'd make up some not-too-gory adventure, sparing them the details of real war. The rest of the time, he'd talk about "Soap, my mate who blows everything up." And they'd listen with wide eyes and jaws on the floor.

Has scared you unintentionally, more than too many times. He'd come home at three in the morning from a mission, and all he wanted was to quietly peel his dirty uniform off and slip into bed with you. His main intention was to avoid waking you up, because you'd force him to shower before joining you in bed - and he was too tired for that. However, you'd been rounding the corner, up for your 3 am glass of water - you screamed as you saw the hulking, dark figure by the front door, launching your phone at him. He'd caught it effortlessly and shoved it into his back pocket. "What've I told ya 'bout using the bat?" "I was just getting water!" "I coulda been anyone." "Well you're not." "Missed ya, luvie." "Missed you too- but you're grimy. Go take a-" "No." He grabbed you and threw you over his shoulder, ignoring your protests as he hauled you back to bed.

[coquettepascal]

birthday girl

summary: sometimes a girl just needs to cry her way through her birthday; joel makes sure you cry for a good reason this year.

tags: 18+, smut, praise kink, crying, crying during sex but not for bad reasons, fingering, joel has big hands (duh), soft sex, sweet sex, clingy!reader, academic!reader (implied), reader is younger than joel, reader is in college still but no age is discussed, anxious!reader, quiet!reader, soft!joel, dom!joel (a little?), praise kink (again), boyfriend!joel, use of the following nicknames: baby, dove, birthday girl, reader has hair, size difference kind of, happy ending :]

a/n: it's my birthday today !! and i felt like projecting into a fic so here is this thing i wrote in one sitting HAHA <3

(1.4k, not beta read)

“Baby?” Joel calls softly.

He’s knuckle deep in you, stretching you across two of his fingers. You can feel how you’re melting onto him, how you clench onto him in every way possible.

There’s no possible way that this is comfortable for him, not in the slightest. You can tell that his wrist is aching, that the forearm he’s resting on is aching, but he hasn’t said anything yet and you don’t want this to stop.

He’s laid beside you kind of, with one of your legs out on the opposite side of the bed while the other is sandwiched between his own. He always lets you hold yourself open how you want, and tonight you want to be as close to him as you can. 

Your arms are awkwardly hugging his neck down to you, so you can nuzzle into his cheek and tell him how you’re feeling. This kind of attention can feel so anxiety inducing sometimes, this weird pressure to come for him quickly so he can be done with it, even if that isn’t what he wants.

Joel will coax your release from you no matter how long it takes, or how many times you want it. He doesn’t mind, he’s always telling you he doesn’t mind, but he needs you to talk to him through it.

“Hey,” he murmurs softly, curling his fingers in you. It makes your hips twitch slightly, a soft mewl leaving your throat in response.

“How’s my birthday girl doin’? Is this good?” Joel asks. 

You’re stupidly lucky to have him.

He carried you up the stairs after you began bawling into your birthday dinner, salty tears mixing with the pasta that Joel slaved over for the evening. You couldn’t swallow anymore of it, everything was feeling so heavy already and each gulp of food was landing like lumps of grease in your stomach. 

This year has been lonely, painfully so. Somewhere between high school and postsecondary you shrank back into your shell, leaving behind friend groups and growing into your own skin. It felt good for the first little while, but your success and achievements in classes didn’t make up for the sinking feeling in your heart. You have some friends, but not enough for a birthday party, and they aren’t close enough to remember your birthday anyways. 

Going out to dinner felt stupid if it was just you and your boyfriend celebrating, it didn’t feel important enough. Joel fought you on it at first, but gave up when he noticed how upset you were. Instead, he made dinner for you and set up some decorations.

You feel a little guilty, thinking about the birthday banner downstairs, the pasta on the table, and the cake in the fridge, but then he curls his fingers again and your eyes flutter.

“Need your words, dove,” Joel says patiently. He doesn’t thrust his fingers at all, just pushing them against your walls softly to remind you he’s there.

Managing to nod, and find your voice, you murmur a yes, feels good, but your voice is so small. Joel picks up on it right away.

“You wanna talk, baby? S’okay if you don’t, s’okay if you’re feelin’ quiet.”

Tears start to billow and burn in the bags beneath your eyes, stinging as you close your eyes and shake your head into the crook of his neck. Your hands clasp behind his neck, pulling him closer, and he nods. 

You feel so embarrassed and guilty, but also stupid. Here is Joel, giving you all you need, and you can’t even speak up for him. You didn’t finish his dinner, or blow out the candles, and he’s still reassuring you. 

“Is it good slow? Deep and slow right now?” he asks into your ear, scruff scratching your ear.

Your soft nods reassure him and he resumes a slow pace, pushing up against your wall as he presses kisses down the side of your head and in your hair, hushing you. The feeling of his fingers in you is so foreign still, not quite new but not your own either. He’s such a stretch compared to yourself, one that makes your brain fuzz over. 

Joel curls his fingers in you, then strokes the inside of you with the pads of his fingers as he begins to talk.

“It’s okay you’re bein’ quiet, baby, you know I don’t mind. Don’t matter if you can use your voice or not, s’long as you keep bein’ the good girl you are.”

Now the tears spill over, hot and rolling slow down your heated cheeks. There are so many emotions and he’s monopolized this overwhelming feeling into pleasure as he pulls wetness from you and spills it onto his knuckles, into his palm. You’re surprised you’re even this turned on when you’ve had such a shit day, but you know it’s because of him. 

He hasn’t realized you’re crying yet, still fingering you at an easy pace, something he hopes you can handle. 

“Jus’ wanna make you feel good, you deserve it. My strong girl’s been so tough lately, workin’ so hard to make me proud, huh?” 

Your tears pour into the fibers of his tee as you push your head down into his shoulder, nodding as you catch your breath between a quiet sob. This recognition feels so different, so much better. 

“You cryin’?” He asks quietly.

His fingers don't still. You’ve cried a lot tonight, if you wanted it to stop he knows that you’d tell him, or kick him. You have your means of communicating, even if you’re feeling too much to speak. 

Nodding into his shirt, you breathe out a shaky little breath. His neck feels clammy under your hot palms, but you can’t bring yourself to let go.

“S’okay if you’re cryin’, that’s okay, baby. It’s tough bein’ the birthday girl, right? So much stress sometimes, hard to be that pretty and special,” Joel reassures, pulling his fingers almost fully out of you before slowly easing them back into you. There’s a nasty noise coming from you, one that would be lewd if he wasn’t so sweet.

“Yeah, yeah, it’s so hard for you, but you’ve been so good. Best birthday girl I know,” he hums, pushing a little harder into you now. It makes your eyes draw together as tears brim, a little sound pulling itself from your chest.

“M’so proud of you, dove, you know that? I wanna make you feel good, an extra special birthday gift for bein’ so disciplined,” Joel adds.

He drags his face down to yours, shrinking into his own body in a silly way so he can nudge your nose with his. Your eyes are closed but it doesn’t matter, you don’t know if you can handle seeing anything right now. Joel presses a kiss to your forehead, pushing deeper and a little faster into you as his fingers curl, drag, and press into you just right.

“Can I give you that, huh? You want your gift, birthday girl, since you were so good? 

Everything is melting now, the tears down your face and the space between your thighs. Wet is everywhere, from your cheeks to his knuckles. Hot, and sticky, and dripping, all of you being kept together from where he’s plugged himself into you. Trying to speak, you make noises, but just babble aimlessly through a desperate sob.

Somehow, through your orgasm, you drag him closer. He’s nearly collapsed on top of you now, barely able to keep moving his fingers as you clench around him, spilling onto him.

“There you go, dove, there you are,” he shushes softly as your chest heaves with a mixture of gasps and sobs.

He doesn’t pull away from you, just lets you cling and sob as you need, kissing wherever he can. 

It takes awhile for you to come down, but when you have he doesn’t pull away except for sliding his fingers out of you. Your head feels distant from you, eyes soft and chest exhausted.

“Maybe we can try this birthday thing again tomorrow, hm?” Joel asks, adjusting you so he can lay with you in a more comfortable position. Your head rests on the meat of his chest and you nod, eyes half open. Honestly, apart from what happened just now, today sucked. Having two birthdays sounds perfectly appealing to your melted little brain as he holds you close to his warm body.

Tomorrow, tomorrow can be your birthday.

[dcxdpdabbles]

DCxDP Fanfic idea: The Cousin

Clark had always known that Krypton was an entire planet with more than just a few cities scattered about, but it was a very distant knowledge that he grew up with.

Yes, it was sad that he was among the few Kyptonians left in the universe, but Clark has always considered himself human before anything else. He was Jonathan Kent and Martha Kent's son long before he learned of his identity as Kal-El.

It made him feel guilty that he preferred being Clark Kent to Kal-El, but it was the honest truth, as mean as it was.

Kara had once accused him of not understanding what it mean to have lost their home planet like she did. She often pointed out that his Kryptonese sounded like someone who had learned it as a second language. She also claimed that he was only pretending to be Kryptonian in another argument, and the worst was when she stated he wasn't Kryptonian enough. She raged because she was mourning the loss of her planet and people, and lashing out at him was easier.

He knew that, but it still stung, though not in the way she wanted. It stung because of the guilt: He agreed that he was prouder to be considered an Earthling than a Kryptonian.

He couldn't help that English rested more comfortably on his tongue or the scents of Earth's food were far more appetizing than the meals Kara made (As close to her family's recipes as she could. There were some spices Earth similarly couldn't substitute)

His rocket ship was his parents' attempt to stuff as much of their culture as they could into it before their people were wiped out. He tried hard to learn everything they managed to save, but he didn't connect to it as strongly as he did in history class listening to the USA's humble beginnings.

He felt guilty about that, too.

When they found Kon-El, he let Kara give him a name, only to later discover what Kon in Kryptonian meant. By that point, the clone had built an entire identity out of the name, and seeing his cousin's smug smirk made his insides turn.

He didn't like the clone, but he didn't think the boy deserved that. Though Clark should have done something, eventually, he would help rebrand the name, shifting the translation of the more modern (or it was before Kypton was no more) to an older Kryptonian one. Although Kara acted like he was destroying more of their culture, Clark felt it was better this way.

It was a struggle to be trapped between two worlds, but Clark knew which one he would choose every single time.

Then Bruce found the boy.

As usual, Bruce kept an eye on all major powers, including up-and-coming heroes. He first gained wind of the young hero in Amity Park from a young Wes Weston, who posted daily about Phantom. Since Phantom seemed to fall under the jurisdiction of the Justice League Dark, Clark didn't pay much attention to him.

Bruce had eyes on the young hero and had sent Robin to offer training and support, but the boy seemed much more interested in staying in his own part of the world and fighting the dead. Clark could respect that.

All heroes had an area that was undoubtedly theirs, and Phantom picked the most haunted place in the country to protect. It made sense. Months went by with Bruce occasionally bringing up the boy in meetings, to either update them on his work or praise the child for his missions in that weird, emotionless way Bruce talked as Batman.

Then, one day, Kara barged into the meeting, about to argue for her right to join the Justice League, when her eyes landed on the hologram of Phantom, which was frozen in place. Her mouth opened and closed, eyes wide, before she blurted out, "You found someone from the house of Lor-Van!?"

"What?" Clark sat up, recognizing his mother's maiden name.

"Look at his chest! That's the Lor-Van symbol!" Kara screeched, hope starting to bloom in her eyes. "He's your cousin, Kal. Likely from your mother's young brother! I heard he was attempting to make a rocket on the other side of Kypton, but I never knew if he was successful....but he must have! He has your mother's eyes!"

Clark feels like someone kicked him in the chest. His voice cracks as he asks, "There were other refugees from Kypton?"

Whatever glee was on Kara's face died a painful death as she turned away, hiding her tears. "Not everyone believed Uncle Jor, but not everyone thinks he was lying. They just didn't make it."

The silence in the meeting hall is heavy. Clark is only half aware of his teammates shooting unsure glances between the two aliens until Bruce clears his throat. "If Phantom is truly of house Lor-Van, I think it's time to approach him again, especially since he's a ghost. Anyone with magic can take control of him."

"Oh," Kara's voice is small. "He didn't make it either."

Clark leaps to drag Kara into a hug. She goes willingly, but doesn't hug back as she stays stiff as a board, hiding her face in his chest. "He should have been your age. Makes sense why he's still a teenager."

He doesn't know what to say to make her feel better. Nothing will feel better when you lose your entire world.

"We could go meet him, " he offers instead. Clark feels Kara move her head against his chest in one brisk nod, but it's enough for him to excuse himself from the rest of the League. They wave away his apology, offering to come with them for moral support, but Clark feels it's something he and Kara should be able to handle on their own.

She's crying on her way back to Earth, aiming for the part of the planet that houses Amity Park. Clark could have just had the Zeta beams from the Watch Tower, but he felt a flight would have done her some good.

"I don't know why I'm sad," She laughs wetly. "It's not like he's my cousin. He's a cousin of a cousin. I just thought...."

"I know," he tells her, pretending not to see the flooding tears behind her. Maybe we can find out what happened to him."

Maybe he was raised on Earth before his early death. Maybe Phantom is like me. Clark says, but he hopes. Even if it were a ghost, it would be nice to have someone understand.

The two Supers don't say anything else as they re-enter Earth's skies, and they can spot a ain't green glowing monster fighting against another smaller white glowing figure on the horizon.

[woantohae]

Every breath you take || (Bob Reynolds x reader)

Summary: After a failed mission, in which Y/N ​​almost drowned trying to keep herself and Bob afloat, the man feels guilty for not being able to save them. Or more like, save her.

Author's note: Did you guys watch the new teaser of THUNDERBOLTS*???? I literally can't stop watching it and I repeat over and over again to find any new detaill of Sentry.

I'm gonna start writing more of Bob Reynolds because it's never enough <33

《tags: fluff, hints of angst, Bob being shy, mentions of drowning, angst, Bob being guilty for what happened》

Lost and insecure.

That's how Bob felt after having caused destruction in New York City. After having been the cause - or having been part of - such chaos that drove the city crazy.

He still didn't fully understand his powers and everything that he and... his other self were capable of. It hadn't been long since Valentina and her followers experimented on him to turn him into their weapon. But when he was able to escape Valentina's perfect varnished nails, he was able to feel a little calmer.

Until he felt the heavy gazes of the rest of the team again.

It wasn't like they did it on purpose to make him feel bad about himself, but they still hadn't forgotten what had happened. Bob knew it would take time to gain their trust and really become part of the group, but he was struggling to do so. He constantly made an effort to make small gestures and actions that showed he was trying hard. But the man always received a smile that was almost polite rather than genuine. He couldn't blame them though, Bob would be like that too if he were in the rest of them's place.

He always kept quiet. When Alexei, Yelena or Bucky spoke to him, he allowed himself to respond. Or when it was time to eat, he usually excused himself by saying that he wasn't hungry, but whenever the rest finished and went somewhere else, he would go to the kitchen, take a plate of food and eat it while silence surrounded him. The silence of the environment, because his head was always making noise.

If they didn't want to include him yet, he would wait. However, even if he didn't realize it, Y/N was always there trying to include him.

The girl didn't feel pity for the man. No, that was not it. She knew what he was going through, because she had also been through something similar, so she could understand him. Besides, there was no point in bringing up the past and blaming Bob for his actions, because every member of the team had done wrong in their past. Even her.

And now it's not like they were doing anything good either.

Y/N was fighting off four men who were trying to stop her. The team was on a mission to infiltrate the mansion of a drug dealer of the Soldier's serum, who was trafficking it to the least suitable people to manipulate it. They had fought and killed many of those who crossed their path to stop him. Staining their hands with blood, something they were already accustomed to.

After Y/N was able to finish off the men, she takes the suitcase with the samples and places the earphone in her ear.

"I already have the samples. We need to move before more of them arrive" she announces as she rushes to run through the hallways until she exits through the courtyard of the mansion.

"Got it. Guys, go to the meeting point" Yelena orders "Alexei will come for you"

"On my way!" The man says.

Y/N adjusts the suitcase in her hands and walks through the backyard that overlooks a large forest. It was obvious that such a person would live as far away from everything as possible to avoid being caught. In the distance she sees Bob waiting for her. They had agreed on this meeting place so that Alexei could come and pick them up in the helicopter. The spot was right on the edge of a cliff so that Alexei could stay in the air when he picked them up and escape as soon as they got into the helicopter. It was quite high from where they were, and as Bob waited he had seen how rocky it was down there and how the waves broke against the rocks in a violent impact.

Y/N comes to Bob's side and smiles at him, moving the suitcase triumphantly.

"I told you it would be easy," she tells him, catching her breath.

Bob, in the splendid Sentry suit, looked at her proudly and shyly at the same time.

"You should have let me go with you. Something could have happened to you," he mentions, looking over the girl's shoulder, in case someone unexpectedly came.

"Worried about me?" she asks amused. Bob blushes "Aww, no one has ever worried about me that much"

He smiles amused and looks away to the sky to see if Alexei is nearby. "Are you sure you want to wait for him? I could carry you in my arms so we can get out of here faster" the man points out, turning to look at her again.

"It's okay. They'll come for us," she points out, and her eyes widen as she sees a man sneak up behind Bob and hit him with a rock. "Bob!"

Y/N rushes to send the man flying away with her powers, while she watches as Bob staggers and falls off the cliff. She drops the suitcase and without hesitating twice, she throws herself after the brown-haired boy, who luckily doesn't fall into the rocks.

Bob falls into the depths of the sea, while Y/N dives right behind him to grab him. As she can, she grabs his arm and tries to pull him afloat, but he's heavier than her, so it's harder than it looks. As soon as she manages to lift him a little and pull him with her, Y/N gets her head out of the water while trying to get Bob's head to face the outside as well.

She tries to stay calm, but the desperation of not touching the ground consumes her. The waves crash against both of them, causing Y/N to start gulping water.

"Yelena...." she tries to speak.

"Y/N..... we are...... guys....." Yelena's voice is heard in her ear.

"We're in the water," she manages to say, before a wave covers them for a few moments.

Y/N clings to Bob's unconscious body, still straining to keep them both out of the water. She feels the tiredness take over every muscle in her body, feeling the temperature of the water freezing her with every passing second. Y/N spits out the water that enters her mouth and looks at Bob, who keeps his eyes closed.

"Please, Bob. Stay with me" she begs, hugging him against her as best she can to stay afloat "Stay with me..."

After that, Y/N closes her eyes.

Y/N opens them still feeling like she's in the sea. But she's relieved to look around the corners of her room.

She sits on the bed and sighs as she listens to the raindrops falling hard outside, feeling at peace for a moment until she remembers the man.

Bob.

Where is him? Is he okay?

These and more questions invade the girl's head.

"Shit" she curses and rushes to remove the sheets from her body, bringing her feet to the floor, but feeling an object that prevents her from moving.

Or rather, the body of a person.

"Ah! Shit!" he complains.

Y/N looks with surprise at the person, freezing in place as soon as she sees that it's Bob, sitting on the floor and removing the blankets from his body.

"Bob? What are you doing sleeping on the floor?" she asks him, kneeling down next to him.

Bob scratches his eyes and then looks at her.

"I wanted to make sure you were okay," he replies in a low tone, as if he were embarrassed, "after the mission."

She gulps and a small smile curves her lips.

"Are you okay?" she asks, bringing her hand closer to his, but not touching it.

Bob nods.

"I'm sorry" he says suddenly.

Y/N frowns not quite understanding what he's referring to. "What are you sorry about?"

Bob stares at her with guilt flashing in his blue eyes.

"That I couldn't have saved you right away."

She looks down and shakes her head.

"It's not your fault" she lets him know. "We didn't see the guy coming and we didn't know what was going to happen after that either."

Bob closes his eyes and lets out a sigh, starting to feel the pain in his head spreading. He feels the guilt consume him and believes that the team will continue to hate him for what happened. Y/N shakes her head at the thoughts of the man in front of her.

"Stop blaming yourself Bob, no one will hate you for what happened" Y/N intertwines her fingers with his. “I don’t want to see you like this.”

Bob reconnects his gaze with hers, letting her fingers caress his.

“I don’t want you to hate me,” he admits in a whisper. “I’m supposed to be strong and have the power to protect you guys from anything. Protect you from anything, but I.... couldn’t. I was weak.”

She rushes to wrap her arms around him, feeling him hug her tightly, as if she were going to fade away from his arms. Y/N caresses his back, feeling the wool fabric of his blue vest that he wears to sleep. The girl feels him sob on her shoulder, feeling a weight on her heart.

"Bob, it's okay" she whispers.

They spend a little more time hugging each other until Bob calms down a little, still in her arms. When they separate, she puts her hands on the man's cheeks so that he looks at her.

"What happened doesn't make you weak. We can't always save others, but we can let ourselves be saved by others" she tells him softly, under the man's saddened gaze. "It's not your obligation to protect me, but I appreciate that you want to do it."

Bob reimains silent.

She lets out a sigh as she sees that the guilt is still eating him up inside. Y/N makes a face and stands up, being watched by Bob from the floor, with puppy dog ​​eyes.

"Come," she holds out her hand.

Bob frowns slightly and stands up holding her hand. Y/N leads him by the hand until he is in front of her bed, to which he opens his eyes like saucers.

"No, I can't...."

"Bob," she interrupts him.

With her look she seems to tell him that she will not let him continue sleeping on the floor, so he gives up and watches as Y/N lays down, leaving him a space on the bed. Hesitantly, he drops onto the bed and climbs inside, while Y/N covers him with the sheets. Bob gulps and doesn't know where to put his hands or how to position himself so as not to disturb her or make her feel uncomfortable, so the girl takes the initiative and puts her head on Bob's chest, putting an arm around his waist and hugging him. The brunette moves his hands slowly until he hugs her waist as well and feels the warmth of the closeness between them.

Bob prays that the girl can't hear the rapid beating of his heart against his chest, but he knows that's impossible with her so close to his chest. He doesn't care anymore though, because she's in his arms now and in that moment he knows that she's safe.

"I promise next time I won't let anything bad happen to you" he whispers as his eyes gaze out the window and out into the rainy night "I'll be watching you. Always"

She smiles and feels her heart warm at his words.

"I know" she lets him know "I promise you that too, Bob"

And both swear on their souls that such a promise will not be broken.

[malsmind]

the sweetest

chris sturniolo x reader

“what’s the most romantic thing you’ve ever done?” “fuck a girl on her period.”

warnings: smut, unprotected sex, period sex, fingering, praising, pet names (baby,ma, angel), very fluffy n sweet, aftercare!

author's note: inspired by that one question lil peep was asked in an interview

wc: 1.1k

english is not my first language!

your day’s been shit. you’re on your period, your cramps aren’t as bad as they usually are, but you’re just not in the best mood. you’re tired, you can’t be bothered to get things done, it sucked. your boyfriend has been the sweetest to you the whole day. getting you food, giving you back massages, cuddling with you all day long, whatever you wanted, he did it.

you stepped out of the shower, drying yourself off, already missing the feeling of the warm water running over your aching muscles. you put your clothes on and left the bathroom. chris was laying on his bed, scrolling trough his phone while the movie you put on was on pause, ready to be watched. chris looked up from his phone, giving you a warm smile. “you feelin’ a little better?” he asked, putting his phone down.

“not much, honestly wish i could stay in the shower forever” you whine, flopping down on the bed beside him. “it’s just so relaxing you know what i mean?”

“yeah i get what you mean” he chuckled, pulling you into his arms. you cuddled up to him, his warm hands immediately landing on your lower stomach, knowing you love feeling the comfort of his touch whenever you’re on your period. he pressed play on the movie, leaning back against the headboard. you got comfortable in his arms, resting your head on his chest, watching the movie play on the TV in-front of you.

chris’s fingers trace over your stomach in a soothing manner, making you tense up slightly at the feeling.

as the movie went on, your eyes scanned over the way his fingers traced your stomach. it was so innocent, he was just making sure you were comfortable, after all. you couldn’t help but imagine the many other ways your boyfriends fingers made you feel good. chris of course noticed the way your eyes followed his fingers every movements, a small grin tugging at his lips. chris moved his fingers lower down, playing with the waistband of your shorts. your breath hitched a little when he glided his fingers along.

“you not gonna watch the movie? haven’t seen your eyes look up at the screen once in the past 10 minutes, baby.” his voice pulled you out of your trance, making you rearrange your eyes back to the TV screen. “sorry, zoned out.”

your answer made chris chuckle. watching you try your hardest to put your focus back to the movie playing, chris leaned up a little, fully aware of what’s going trough your head. he slid his hand into your shorts, watching you intently, as his fingers danced over your clothed heat. you knew what his intentions were, and you also knew that he basically read your mind. you melted into his touch, leaning your head back onto his shoulder.

“you want me to touch you?” he spoke lowly, waiting for your consent before going any further.

“i’m on my period chris…” you sighed knowing that more than anything right now you wanted his fingers to relief the tension in your body.

“i’m aware, so can i touch you?”

his words made you sink your teeth into your lower lip and you nodded. he wasted no time, pulling your panties aside to run his fingers trough your wet folds, carefully pushing them inside your needy hole. his fingers moved slowly, in and out. you let out a sigh of relief, your body relaxing and the tension in your muscles loosening.

the movie in the background was long forgotten as chris’s fingers curled up. you nuzzled your face into the crook of his neck, muffling your moans while his fingers picked up their pace. chris placed a small kiss on top of your head before speaking up, “could give you more than just my fingers if you want..”

“what about the mess? i don’t wanna get your sheets bloody chris..” chris pulled his fingers out, moving on top of you. his lips met yours and he kissed you sweetly, slowly moving down to press slow, soft kisses to your neck. “you know i don’t mind ‘the mess’. jus’ wanna make you feel good.” he mumbled against your skin. you agreed, mumbling a small ‘okay’.

his hands carefully tugged your shorts off along with your underwear, pulling his own down. he took his dick into his hand, rubbing his tip along your slit, lubricating it in your wet mix of period blood and arousal. chris slowly pushed his hips forward, making sure he wasn’t inflicting any pain on you when his dick glided smoothly into your pussy. you bit your lip, gripping his shoulders when he bottomed out inside of you, letting out a low groan. his hips moved slowly into yours, the squelching sound of his dick moving in and out of you filling the room, mixing with the sound of the TV playing. delicate moans left your lips when he picked up his pace, leaning his head down to press his lips to your neck again.

“doin’ sooo good for me baby, fuck..” he praised, small moans leaving his lips now.

“lookin’ so pretty, shit ma.”

his words made you go crazy. the way he always made sure you felt so good. you could feel yourself getting close, your orgasm building up with every thrust of his hips into your own. chris knew you were close too, your walls clenching around his dick while he moved in and out of you, always hitting all the right spots.

“good girl, that’s it.” he breathed out, approaching his own orgasm.

“yes, juuust like that baby.”

before you knew it, your moans grew louder and your orgasm washed over you, making your legs cross behind his back, pulling him closer into you. chris couldn’t hold back either, feeling you cumming around him did it for him. his head fell onto your shoulder, muffling his own moans and with one more thrust, his cum coated your walls.

the both of you laid there for a little while, catching your breath. he carefully moved up and pulled out of you, looking down at where your bodies were connected just a second ago. he grabbed his boxers to clean both you and himself up.

“didn’t make that much of a mess.” he smiled down at you. you hummed in response, your eyes were heavy, you were surprised at how much your orgasm wore you out. chris threw his boxers aside, laying down behind you, pulling you back into his chest.

“you okay angel?” he asked, placing small kisses over your face.

“mhmm, tired.” you mumbled out, cuddling back into his body. his arms hugged around your waist, holding you close. both of you were more tired out than you thought you’d be, with the warmth and comfort of each others body, you eventually gave in to your tiredness and drifted off to sleep. chris wasn’t far behind, giving you a few more kisses before relaxing back onto his pillow, holding you in his arms as he fell asleep aswell.

© 𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐬𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐝

dividers by @strangergraphics

-

@sturniololuv08 @middlepartmatt @forgottxen @emely9274 @impossiblecollectorcat @staargazr

[gf2bellamy]

heyyyy

i love love love the sunshine!reader x post!prison spencer fics, they’re so so cute

If you could, could you write one with them where they’ve gotten together recently and they’re coming back from a case that hit reader particularly hard, and she kinda just shuts off which is so unusual for her. So spencer’s so concerned and confused and he wonders if he did anything wrong and when he asks her about it, she just completely breaks down and cries her entire life’s hurt out to him and he finally realizes why she tries to be the sunshine in everyone’s life (cuz she grew up without it) and he just wants to protect her from the world

(im so so sorry if this is so detailed and long) (also i really yearn for angst/ hurt comfort if you cant tell) (you can totally ignore this, i dont really mind <3)

thankyouuuu smm <3

unhappy — spencer reid

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader ( no use of y/n ) content warnings: reader crying , mention of a rough case , spencer making food for reader a/n: hiii !!! i hope you like this <3 ( also i love flangst too <3 )

Spencer stood beside you in the small kitchenette of the jet, watching as you absentmindedly stirred honey into your tea. He hesitated for a moment before speaking.

“Do you want to solve a Sudoku?” 

Normally, it was the other way around—you were the one who pulled out your puzzle book with a bright smile, nudging him until he joined in. But tonight, you hadn’t even reached for it. Spencer had noticed how quiet you’d been since the case wrapped up.

You barely glanced at him before shaking your head. “No, I’m sorry,” you murmured, your voice exhausted. Then, without another word, you picked up your cup and walked away. 

Spencer watched you retreat to your seat, concern settling deep in his chest. You were always the one who tried to lift his spirits after a hard case, the one who made sure he wasn’t drowning in his own thoughts. For you to be this withdrawn… it wasn’t like you. 

For the rest of the flight, he didn’t press you.

Instead, he simply sat beside you, letting his knee rest lightly against yours—a small offering of comfort. You didn’t react, but you didn’t move away either. He kept glancing at you from the corner of his eye, wondering if he had done something wrong. Had he been too wrapped up in the case to notice you struggling? Had he missed something? The thoughts gnawed at him. 

When the jet finally landed and everyone gathered their things, Spencer, as always, carried your bag to your car. Normally, you’d roll your eyes playfully and tease him with a “What a gentleman.” But tonight, there was no teasing. No light chatter. Just silence. 

Spencer placed your bag down beside you, studying your face as you unlocked the car. 

“I came with Emily,” he said carefully. “Is it alright if I drive with you?” 

It wasn’t entirely true—he could have easily gotten a ride home another way—but that wasn’t the point. He just needed to be next to you, to make sure you were okay. Pretending to need a ride was just an excuse. 

You looked up at him, and the sadness in your eyes made his heart clench. He hated seeing you like this, so unlike yourself. 

“Yeah, sure,” you murmured, trying to force a smile, but it faltered before it could fully form. You gave up and just got into the car, and Spencer followed, settling into the passenger seat. 

The ride was quiet. Spencer made a few attempts at conversation—small observations about the case, about a book he’d read recently, about how Rossi had nearly fallen asleep with his head against the window—but you only responded with a few short words.

Eventually, he gave up and just stared out the window, worried. 

When you pulled up to his apartment building, Spencer hesitated before unbuckling his seatbelt. He turned to you, studying the way your fingers gripped the steering wheel a little too tightly. 

“Do you want to come up?” he asked softly. 

You blinked, barely meeting his gaze. “I-uhm…” Your fingers tapped absently against the leather of the wheel, the hesitation clear in your posture. 

Spencer scrambled for another reason, another way to make it easier for you to say yes. “You can come get that book I told you about,” he added quickly, even though he didn’t really care about the book. He just wanted to get you inside, to keep you from going home alone to sit in silence with your thoughts. 

For a moment, he thought you might say no. But then, you let out a quiet sigh, too exhausted to argue. 

“Yeah… okay,” you whispered, turning off the engine. 

Relief washed over Spencer as he stepped out of the car, waiting for you to follow. 

The two of you walked quietly into his apartment. As soon as you stepped inside, you toed off your shoes, your movements sluggish with exhaustion. Spencer set your bag down near the door, watching you carefully. 

“Do you want something to eat?” he asked gently, already thinking of what he could make you. 

You shook your head without hesitation. “No, that’s fine,” you murmured, your voice quiet.

Spencer frowned slightly but didn’t push. Instead, he watched as you stepped toward his bookshelf, running your fingers lightly over the spines of his meticulously arranged collection. 

“Which one was it again?” you asked, tilting your head as you scanned the titles. 

“The one on the second shelf, third from the right,” Spencer supplied, stepping closer. “But you don’t actually have to give it back. That was just an excuse to get you up here.” 

Your fingers froze on the book spine, and for the first time that night, you turned to look at him fully. His honesty caught you off guard.

A small, tired smile ghosted over your lips. “Yeah, I figured.” 

Spencer’s gaze softened as he took a slow step forward, his voice barely above a whisper. “Do you want to talk about it?” He watched you closely, his eyes filled with concern, as he waited for a response. 

You bit your lip. Spencer could see you trying to hold it together, but he knew you weren’t fine—not by a long shot. Without another thought, he moved closer and gently pulled you into his chest, his arms wrapping around you.

That was all it took.

The moment you felt his warmth, the dam you had built up inside cracked. Your tears came in a rush, soaking the fabric of his shirt as you clung to him tightly. Spencer’s heart tightened at the sight, but he held you even closer, one hand moving to the back of your head, threading through your hair in soft, steady motions. 

“It was so awful, Spencer,” you whispered between sobs, your voice shaky as you gripped his shirt.

Spencer pressed his cheek against the side of your head, his other hand moving in slow, soothing circles across your back. He didn’t need to say anything, not yet. He knew you just needed to be held, to let it out.

His voice was gentle when he spoke, full of understanding. “I know," he murmured. "I know. I know it was hard” 

You clung to him, your face pressed against his chest. You let out a shaky breath, your voice muffled. “Everything is,” you whispered. 

You couldn’t stop the tears. Spencer felt his heart tighten in his chest at the sound of your pain. His instinct was to hold you tighter, to shield you from the world’s cruelty, and he did just that, tightening his grip around you as though he could absorb some of your suffering. He pressed a soft kiss to your temple, his lips lingering there for just a moment before he whispered, “I’ve got you.” 

The simple words were a promise, a vow. And he meant them with every fiber of his being. He didn’t let go of you—not for a second. He didn’t try to fix it, didn’t try to offer solutions. He just held you. Let you cry. Let you feel. 

Time passed. Your sobs became softer, less desperate. His hands gently stroked your back.

Eventually, the tears began to slow, and you pulled back slightly, your face flushed with emotion. Spencer’s hands were immediately there, his fingertips brushing away the last of your tears, his touch tender and careful. 

You sniffed, trying to gather yourself. “I’m sorry,” you whispered, your voice small, fragile, as you wiped at your eyes. 

Spencer’s eyes softened even more as he cupped your face gently, his thumb brushing lightly over your skin. He made sure you met his gaze, wanting you to see the sincerity in his eyes. “Don’t apologize,” he said, his voice soft. “You have nothing to apologize for.” 

His voice grew even softer as he added, “I’m here for you, always.” 

A small, shaky breath escaped your lips. You stared up at him, still feeling vulnerable, but in a way that felt safe now.

“Thank you, Spencer,” you whispered, your voice barely above a breath, but filled with the depth of gratitude that words alone couldn’t capture. 

Spencer’s gaze softened even more. He shifted slightly, his hands still resting gently on your face, and then he let out a soft chuckle.

“You know, crying is actually a biological response that releases endorphins, which are natural painkillers. So technically, you just gave yourself a free therapy session. Pretty efficient if you ask me. ” he said, giving you a sheepish grin. 

You couldn’t help but let out a quiet chuckle of your own, your lips curling into a smile.

Spencer looked down at you, his eyes warm and soft. “See? I can still get a smile out of you, even if it’s just a little one,” Spencer said, his voice teasing but gentle, his lips curving upward in a small, knowing grin. 

“Yeah,” you breathed out, the small smile not leaving your face. You kept your hands on his waist, absentmindedly toying with the fabric of his shirt.

Spencer’s fingers brushed a loose strand of your hair from your face, his touch soft and tender.

“Do you want something to eat now?” he asked, his voice gentle. His hand lingered on your cheek, thumb continuing to make slow, soothing circles along your skin. 

You paused for a moment, realizing you had been so caught up in everything that you hadn't even thought about food. As the thought crossed your mind, you realized you were hungry.

“Yeah, sure,” you smiled weakly, the exhaustion still in your voice, but it felt a little more like your usual self. “I think I could eat something.” 

Spencer’s smile softened, reaching for your hand, as he gently led you toward the kitchen. 

His kitchen was small, but organized, just like everything else in his apartment. He pulled out a chair for you at the tiny table , his hand lingering on the back of it as you sat down.

Spencer moved quietly, pulling open cabinets.

“I could make grilled cheese,” he offered, glancing over his shoulder. “Or, if you’re not in the mood for that, I have ingredients for pancakes. Though I should warn you, my flipping technique is… inconsistent.”

A small, breathy laugh escaped you, and Spencer’s chest tightened at the sound. There it was. That little spark of you—the one that had been missing all night.

“Grilled cheese is perfect,” you murmured, resting your chin in your hand. Your voice was still quieter than usual.

Spencer nodded, turning back to the stove to hide the way his lips twitched upward. He could feel your eyes on him, studying his movements.

“You’re staring,” he said lightly, not turning around.

“Am not,” you lied, but he heard the smile in your voice.

“You are. And statistically, people who deny staring are actually staring 87% of the time.”

You snorted. “You just made that up.”

“Maybe.” He peeked over his shoulder, grinning when he caught your amused expression. “But you can’t prove it.”

The playful banter was familiar. It was you—the real you, the one who always found a way to smile even on the hardest days. The one who had, more times than he could count, pulled him out of his own spirals with nothing but a joke or a gentle nudge.

Spencer flipped the sandwich with only minimal cheese casualties, then slid the plate toward you. You took it gratefully, your fingers brushing his for just a second.

“Thanks,” you said, taking a small bite.

He leaned against the counter across from you, arms crossed, watching as you ate. He wanted to memorize this—the way your nose scrunched slightly when you chewed, the way your fingers tapped idly against the plate when you paused to think.

“You’re doing it now,” you pointed out, raising an eyebrow.

“Doing what?”

“Staring.”

He didn’t deny it. Instead, he tilted his head, his voice softening. “I’m just… glad you’re feeling better.”

You looked down at your plate, but not before he caught the faint pink dusting your cheeks. “Me too,” you admitted. “I didn’t realize how much I needed to just… let it out.”

Spencer hummed in understanding. He knew better than anyone how easy it was to lock things away, to pretend you were fine until the weight of it all became unbearable.

And then, halfway through your plate, you spoke.

“I think I scared Emily today.”

Spencer paused, glancing up. “How so?”

You toyed with your fork, avoiding his gaze for a moment before sighing. “I just… didn’t say anything the entire day. And you know how she is—she kept trying to get me to talk, but I just… couldn’t.”

Spencer nodded, understanding. Emily wasn’t one to let things go easily.

“She’ll get it,” he said softly. “She knows how these cases can get under your skin.”

You hummed, pushing a piece of food around your plate absently. “Yeah. I just… I hate being like this.”

Spencer studied you for a moment before stepping closer, his fingers brushing lightly against yours. “You’re allowed to not be okay sometimes,” he murmured. “Even sunshine has to set.”

The words were quiet, but they made you look up at him, your eyes softening.

And then—

A real smile. Small, but real.

“Since when did you get so poetic, Spencer?”

Spencer felt his cheeks warm, but he didn’t pull his hand away. “I read a lot.”

You laughed—actually laughed—and the sound was like sunlight breaking through clouds.

Spencer’s chest tightened. There she is.

You finished your food, then leaned back in your chair, finally looking more like yourself—your usual brightness seeping back in, bit by bit.

Spencer couldn’t help the small, private smile that tugged at his lips. 

You caught his expression and narrowed your eyes playfully. “What’s that look for?”

“Nothing,” he said, though the fondness in his voice betrayed him. “Just… it’s good to see you smiling again.”

Your grin softened, something warm flickering in your eyes. “Well, I do have a pretty great grilled cheese chef.”

Spencer rolled his eyes, but he didn’t bother hiding his amusement. “Flattery won’t get you a second sandwich.”

“Are you sure? Because I do have a very convincing puppy-dog stare.” You demonstrated, widening your eyes exaggeratedly.

He groaned, but he was already standing up to make another.

Because for you he’d do anything , if it meant that he got to see that light in your eyes again.

[ssahotchnerr]

pleasepleaseplease, if you're willing ofc 🫶, can we get a little something where jack is trying his absolute hardest to get hotch and r together during the christmas season?! (i can only imagine the romcom chaos and deliciousness that'll involve haha!) 🙏❤️🎄

mistletoe mischief

the dream!!!!! & jack receives some assistance from morgan also :) cw; bau fem!reader, mutual pining, mentions of food, typical cm case talk, bau family banter, feelings realized (with some making out <3), fluff 🤭 wc; 1.5k

It had become tradition for everyone to go to Dave's house for Christmas Eve. And that meant everyone - the team, the kids, partners. The more the merrier.

It was a time to enjoy each other's company, laugh, exchange gifts and indulge in delicious food and treats. It was a nice reprieve from the hectic stress that the holidays brought, and everyone was happy to have it.

Whereas Jack had a different approach to the night. He had decided, that tonight would be the night you and his dad got together. He would make sure of it.

Only, it wasn't as easy as he thought.

All night Jack's done what he could, in hopes of initiating something between the two of you. Dinner was easy, he had sweetly asked you to switch seats with him - how could you have possibly said no? He persuaded his father to team up with you for the 'reindeer games', like holiday bingo, or unscrambling Christmas songs. That had been a small victory; Aaron giving you a celebratory hug when you were the first to call bingo.

But it still wasn't what he hoped. Things like that worked at school, if someone had a crush on another - they sat together in the cafeteria, they teamed up as partners in class, they played together at recess. (Sadly it was snowing outside, and Uncle Dave didn't have a swing set.)

Defeated, Jack found himself slouching on the couch, pouting alone.

Morgan had been the first to notice his minor sulking, making his way over. "What's on your mind big man?"

"Nothing." He mumbled under his breath, picking at the cookies on the plate you had put together for him.

"Nothing? For someone Santa's visiting tonight, you don't look very excited." He sat down, giving Jack's shoulder a pat, an invitation to open up. "Wanna tell me what's up?"

Jack kept his eyes on his treats, toying with the idea of sharing before sighing, asking if Dad liked you. Like really, liked you.

Derek's lips pursed. His expression changed to one of uncertainty, mulling over the situation.

"That's the million dollar question right there. We think so," Derek confessed, thinking back to all the times where you and Aaron seemed much too comfortable. The constant, lingering stares. Aaron going soft on you at times. The fear in your eyes when Hotch had encountered an unsub at gunpoint. This had occurred recently, and afterwards when Hotch was deemed safe and sound, you had refused to leave his side altogether.

"What have you seen? I'm sure you know what's going on more than the rest of us."

Jack nodded, perking up slightly at his uncle's vague admittance. His lips pulled into a smile, "Well, she is over a lot."

Derek grinned, his head tilting to the side. "Really."

"Yeah," Jack took a bite of his cookie. "We have a lot of fun. She brings over pizza for movie night every Friday if she and Dad aren't working. Cheese for me. Pepperoni and sausage for her and Dad."

"They share, huh?"

"And then Dad spent a lot of time picking out her Christmas present. But they haven't kissed." Jack sighed frustratedly, an innocent confusion on his face. "That's what grown ups do when they love each other, right?"

"It is pretty standard," Derek affirmed, amused himself at the confirmation something was, in fact, going on. It's only been driving the team crazy for weeks.

He, as well as the others, have confronted you about it numerous times, knowing that if they went to Hotch instead, he would confess nothing. But you reacted similarly. A shrug and a "just friends" before switching to a different topic.

"I tried all night too." Jack's bottom lip protruded in a pout once more. "But nothing works."

"Well..." A smile formed on Derek's face. "Maybe you just need a little extra help."

-

"Rally up the troops." Penelope clapped at you, to which you snorted an airy laugh through your nose. "Don't just sit there. I have been shopping since Halloween and I've masterly selected each and every gift and I have been itching to see all your reactions. I almost gave you yours two weeks ago."

"Okay, okay," You surrendered, throwing your hands up. You knew better than to face Penelope's driven wrath.

"You better," Her expression was sharp, pointing a warning finger at you. She hurried away as another laugh escaped you, while you also opted to take one more drink.

As she left the room, Jack entered.

"Hey Jackers," Your face brightened at the sight of him, putting your drink aside. "I heard it's almost time for presents." You raised your eyebrows, a soft smile on your face. "You excited?"

Jack nodded, a glint in his eyes. It was rather mischievous, similar to the one he gave Aaron when he wanted to delay going to bed early, only much more so. "Can you help me with something first?"

"Of course I can," You agreed within a split second's notice. Jack grabbed your hand and led you away just as fast. "Is everything okay?"

"Yeah."

He led you towards Dave's foyer. It was dimly lit, shoes scattered amongst the welcome mat. God forbid someone stained Dave's carpeting.

Aaron and Morgan were just coming back inside; Aaron looked a bit agitated, per usual, while Derek was sporting his famous, cheeky grin.

" - I don't know why you would say that." Aaron continued, tossing an annoyed look over his shoulder to Morgan. As his gaze returned forward, and made eye contact with you, the softness in his face returned instantly.

"Is everything okay?" You wondered, eyebrows furrowing in confusion as you and Jack came to a stop.

"Morgan said my car alarm was going off." Aaron shoved his keys back into his pocket, leaving Morgan's side and favoring yours. "And evidently lied."

"Lied?" A laugh escaped you, perplexedly looking at Morgan, seeking an explanation as well.

"My bad." He waved it off, giving Jack a wink. That was suspicious, but he switched topics before anything could be said. "Oh, would you look at that."

His hand raised, his index finger pointing upwards, directing right between you and Aaron. Both your gazes followed.

Mistletoe.

Oh.

Your eyes shot to Derek's, wide and surprised. In contrast, Aaron's face remained neutral, but a deep blush was growing on his cheeks, as well tinting his ears.

"Well, we'll leave you two to it." He left it at that, shrugging nonchalantly before gesturing Jack away.

"What... Jack?" You started, turning around. "I thought you needed..."

The two of them were gone before you could finish your sentence. However, you did view the tail end of Derek giving Jack a high five.

So, they had been in cahoots. You scoffed a laugh, shaking your head.

Now alone, your eyes connected with Aaron's, who was standing there rather anxiously. Naturally, there was a touch of tension in the air, but it wasn't awkward by any means. A mutual excitement, as well as relief. An electricity.

Aaron hadn't been anxious, but buzzing with anticipation.

You've been wanting to kiss him. He's been yearning to kiss you. The time had just never been right, nor had it the perfect moment. In addition, there was always the fear of rejection.

And suddenly you felt like an idiot for even contemplating such, because from the longing you noticed within his pupils, you've always been on the same page.

Aaron chucked, stating the obvious and peering back up at the mistletoe. "I think we were set up."

"You don't say." You quipped in response, a nervous laugh escaping you. Oh my god was repeatedly circling in your head. You shifted your weight from one foot to another. There was so much you wanted to say, having gone through the potential conversation in your mind more times than you could count. But now, as the opportunity finally presented itself - nothing.

Aaron on the other hand, simply decided to show you.

He wasted no time - his confidence was quite literally the hottest thing you could fathom. All in one smooth motion, his hand cupped your cheek and he placed his lips firmly onto yours.

A spark of energy rushed through you, the both of you in fact. Every nerve in your body was suddenly alive and heightened. Your fingers clutched onto the sides of his shirt, reciprocating the passion.

Aaron's kiss was gentle, his fingertips rough but incredibly soft where they rest against your skin. It made sense, it mirrored him perfectly. A hard exterior, but tender underneath.

And longing to be even closer, Aaron shoved you lightly against the wall, slotting a leg between your thighs. That way, he could lose himself more into you, and you could fully succumb to him.

Your head was fuzzy, feeling lightheaded in the best way possible as your heart fluttered in your chest. Now that Aaron had kissed you, you were done for. From now on, you refused to go each day without receiving another. You couldn't.

"We're missing presents." You teased once the two of you pulled away for air, cheeks flushed. And immediately missing his contact, your lips easily found their way back to his. You could feel his smile, a happy sigh leaving him.

"They can wait."

[mirkoluvs]

★ SUPER SHY

sanji (opla) x fem reader

genre: angst to comfort !!

notes: request !! this is a bit of a long one… also, yes. the title is inspired by new jeans hehe. also, request have been closed for a bit because my inbox is flooded… i appreciate the support and will open requests again soon once i finish most of them!

you were sitting as you listened to nami complain about how the crew was running low on money because of luffy’s food needs. you thought about bringing up her clothing addiction, but since you wanted the ship to stay intact, you kept your mouth shut.

“and i always tell him that we have enough to last us in the kitchen, but he never listens! i swear next time he spends money on food without telling me i’ll-“, “nami!”, sanji called out, walking out the kitchen with a tray of drinks. he quickly made his way over to the table that the two of you were at.

“nami, take this. it’ll help you calm down. i know luffy can be stressful”, sanji smiled, handing nami the drink. “why thank you, sanji”, she smiled back, taking the drink from his hand. “hey! what did i do?!”, luffy shouted from the front of the boat where he was watching usopp fish. sanji simply didn’t answer, continuing to smile at nami as he pushed off luffy’s whining.

finally, he turned to you. “for you”, sanji quickly said, handing you your drink and walking off. your eyes narrowed at the short lived interaction. it seemed like he didn’t care about you as much as he did nami. maybe you were overthinking it. but what if you weren’t? had you done something wrong? did you offend him or something?

“y/n?”, nami called out, tapping your shoulder. you jumped at the sudden touch, snapping out of it. “are you okay?”, she asked, a small bit of concern on her face. “yeah, i’m fine. i’m gonna go to the bathroom”, you smiled, quickly dismissing yourself. before she could further question you, you were already gone.

you quickly shut the bathroom door behind you, letting out a sigh. looking up, you stared at your reflection in the mirror. walking closer, you began picking at parts of your face.

is there something wrong with me? sure, i’m not as pretty as nami or other girls, but am i that bad that someone like sanji would barely acknowledge me…? he flirts with every woman he can, yet he always ignores me… that says a lot, huh?

before you could even realize it, there were tears streaming down your face. insecurities were swallowing you whole, it was unbearable. you leaned against the door, sliding down it as you tucked your knees against your chest and laid your head on your knees.

“hey, who’s in there? i gotta use the bathroom”, zoro asked, banging on the door. you jumped at his sudden presence. “sorry, i’ll be out soon”, you replied back, your voice unexpectedly quivering. you didn’t hear a response for a moment, the silence making you a bit nervous. “i’ll just wait, it’s fine”, he replied. before you could respond, he walked away. you sighed as you rested your head against the door.

the day passed by quickly as everyone was seated eating the dinner sanji had prepared. “where’s y/n? nobody ever skips dinner”, sanji asked, holding an extra plate. everyone looked around, shrugging. “i haven’t seen her since this afternoon, she might’ve fell asleep early”, nami answered. sanji rose an eyebrow but didn’t choose to question it.

after everyone, or so he thought, had left the kitchen, he started cleaning up what was left. “what the hell are you still doing in here?”, sanji groaned, being faced with the sight of the green-haired swordsman when he turned around. “quit whining, i can go wherever i want”, zoro fought back.

“did you say something to y/n earlier?”, he asked, picking up a random fruit on the counter. sanji rose an eyebrow as he continued scrubbing the dishes, “no? why are you asking me that”, he asked. “well, i saw her leave right after you gave nami and her those drinks. then i went to the bathroom and she was in there. sounded like she was crying or something”, he told him. sanjis eyes widened at what he said, pausing everything he was doing. “she was crying…?”, sanji muttered, turning to look at zoro who was playing catch with a random apple. “yeah, i guess. but if you say you didn’t do anything then maybe it was something else”, he shrugged, placing the apple down and walking out. sanji stayed in the same position he was in for a moment, thinking about what zoro said. he didn’t remember ever offending you, so what could’ve happened? he sighed, finishing up the last bit of the dishes left before closing up the kitchen.

soon enough, everything was packed away and sanji was able to go to sleep. he let out a yawn as he closed the kitchen door, rubbing his eyes. “finally, i’m exhausted- SHIT”, he exclaimed in shock, running into someone. “who the hell- y/n?”, he questioned in surprise. your eyes were wide as you realized who you had run into. you muttered small curses under your breath as you began to back away. “sorry, i’ll get going”, you started, beginning to turn around as you started to walk away. “no, wait”, sanji interfered, grabbing your wrist. your eyes widened at the motion. “were you gonna try to get leftovers?”, he asked. you let out a light laugh, trying to skim over the topic. “what? no! i just- well…”, you stuttered. yeah, you were busted.

“why weren’t you at dinner? nobody ever skips dinner”, sanji asked. his hand was still on your wrist as he looked into your eyes, a small bit of concern being prominent. “wasn’t hungry”, you muttered, looking away from him. he rose an eyebrow at your odd behavior, something was up and he knew it. “you don’t expect me to believe that when i just caught you trying to sneak leftovers, right?”, he asked, cocking his head to the side. “it doesn’t matter, just forget it. im going to bed”, you sighed, trying to pull your hand away from his hold. “tell me what’s wrong, y/n. did something happen? did someone say something?”, he asked, trying to look you in the eyes, something you were dodging.

“where is this concern suddenly coming from?”, you muttered just loud enough so he could hear you. that left him even more confused than before, his eyebrows tightening as he tried to figure out what you meant. the silence finally pushed you to look at him. you wanted to scoff at his confused expression. “you don’t care about me like the others, and you don’t have to pretend to because it’s just us here”, you told him, your voice a bit stern. his eyes widened at your words, shocked and lost. “wait, what? where is this coming from?”, he asked, a mix of concern and confusion lacing his words. “you always avoid me, sanji, and it hurts. it hurts a lot. you don’t look at me the same way you look at nami and other girls, you always keep our conversations short, hell, sometimes you don’t even look at me when we’re talking. i get it, maybe i’m not pretty like nami, or as entertaining as luffy and usopp, but is that really enough of a reason to hate me?”, you ranted, your voice cracking. once you started, you couldn’t get yourself to stop, it was a never ending pile of word vomit.

once you finished, you sighed, sniffling as you wiped a few tears running down your face. the silence was deafening as you looked at the ground, anxiously waiting for his response. “…is that really what you think?”, he finally muttered, his voice just loud enough so you could hear him. your silence clearly told him what your answer was. “y/n, look at me”, he asked. you remained still, your eyes staring daggers into the ground. he sighed, gently moving your head with two fingers so you’d face him. “listen to me when i say this. i do not hate you. it’s the complete opposite of that, actually. if i knew what i was doing made you feel like this, i would’ve stopped being such a wimp”, he sighed. you rose an eyebrow at his choice of words. “wimp?”, you questioned. “the truth is that i really, really like you. so much that i become a nervous wreck around you. that’s why i kept our conversations so short and never looked you in the eye. cause if i did, i’d probably explode on the spot. but to think that because i was such a coward that i had you feeling like this, had you skipping a meal all because i was nervous. i’m such an asshole”, he spoke, his regret being notable in his tone.

your eyes were blown open at his words, your jaw a bit agape. this whole time you thought he hated your guts, but in reality, it was the complete opposite. he was just nervous around you. you didn’t even know someone like him could get nervous around women. before you could reply, you felt his arms wrap around you, knocking the breath out of you due to shock. “im sorry, y/n. please forgive me. it hurts to see you cry, and it’s even worse knowing it’s my fault”, he apologized, his voice dripping with sorrow. you opened your mouth to speak, but you couldn’t even find words. you were shocked to say the least. sanji took the silence as a form of not accepting his apology, so he sighed. “it’s alright, i understand, i’ll-“, “NO! no, wait. i’m just shocked, that’s all… i forgive you… it’s alright”, you yelped, grabbing onto the sides of his arms. his eyes were wide for a moment, but quickly softened. a small smile grew on his face as he looked at you .

“you know what would be a nice make-up gift, though?”, you started. “what is it? i’ll do anything, you name it”, he answered quickly, pulling away from you to look you in the eyes. just as you were about to speak, your stomach let out a loud grumble. the two of you froze for a second. “guess my stomach spoke for me, huh?”, you laughed. sanji let out a light chuckle.

“one fresh plate coming up!”

© mirkoluvs. please do not copy, modify, or repost on other platforms. thank you !!

[roosterforme]

Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw Part 2 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: The collection of letters that Bradley received from the fourth grade class provides him with entertainment while deployed. He takes the time to answer their questions and send a package back to the United States via air mail. But he has your email address. He also has a bit of a crush and some questions himself.

Warnings: Fluff, language

Length: 4100 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female teacher!Reader

Check out my masterlist for more! Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw masterlist

A few days later, when Bradley was done with his training protocols for the day, he returned to his bunk with a different mission in mind. While he unzipped his flight suit, he eyed the box which was taking up most of his nightstand, and a smile found its way to his lips. He managed to find a notebook that nobody wanted along with a thick, padded envelope, and he was going to take the time to respond to the fourth graders who wrote to him. 

He'd spent hours poring over the letters, laughing at some of the questions from the kids and frequently picking up that one photo. He couldn't stop going back for more. For another look at you. Just one more look. Okay, this really was the last one. He had to toss it across the small room toward his duffel so he could focus on something other than your smile and the fact that he might have a tiny crush on a fourth grade teacher who knew absolutely nothing about him. Yet.

The note from Jayden was on the top, and Bradley opened it up and started to jot down a response.

Jayden,

It was so nice to hear from you and the rest of your class. To answer your pertinent questions, I am currently stationed on the USS Theodore Roosevelt. The most disgusting food in the mess hall is easily the cabbage rolls (which taste nothing like cabbage... or rolls). The best food in the mess hall is surprisingly the meatloaf. And yes, I would love to see a photo of your Cocker Spaniel. Please send one next time. I hope you're studying and doing your best in school.

Lt Bradley Bradshaw

The next note he decided to tackle was the one from Violet who had the tiniest handwriting he'd ever seen. The page had at least fifteen questions written out, but he decided to answer just a few for her. He had to squint as he skimmed through them again.

Violet,

You seem very inquisitive. That's a great quality to have, especially if you want to be a pilot someday. No, I did not attend the Naval Academy. I went to the University of Virginia. Yes, the Navy is way better than the Air Force. Yes, I can hold my breath underwater for three minutes. Yes, they actually made me do it. No, I don't think I could make it as a Navy SEAL. Yes, I have been staying hydrated and getting enough sun, thanks so much for asking. Keep studying hard, because you have a lot of school ahead of you before officer training.

Lt Bradley Bradshaw

Okay, so this was actually a lot of fun. Up next was a response to the note from Oliver, which made Bradley laugh every time he looked at it. 

Oliver,

Thank you so much for drawing the different Naval aircrafts for me. I hate to break it to you, but I actually do not fly the F-35 Lightning II. Yes, I know they look 'sickeningly cool'. Yes, I know it would be like 'slam dunking off the back of a dragon'. I guess I never knew I was jealous of those pilots until right now.... But I fly the equally cool if not quite as sickening looking F/A-18 Super Hornet. And yes, I would be more than happy to draw my own version of one for you. See below.

Lt. Bradley Bradshaw

The ten minutes he spent replicating his own aircraft to the best of his ability for Oliver churned out a pretty damn good result. He fished his phone out of the nightstand and took a picture to email to Nat when he had time, because she would find this whole thing amusing. Then he reached for the letters from Harrison, Nia and Jackie. He wrote his responses, and after a bit, he had a decent sized stack of letters all ready to go back to the fourth graders.

After a few more days, he worked his way through the entire class, and each kid would soon have a handwritten response on the way. He just needed to figure out what he wanted to say to you. The pretty teacher from the class photo that he now kept tucked in with his personal items. He worked on that one last, writing your full name at the top of the page and wishing you didn't go by the very non-specific Ms. which gave him zero clue as to whether or not you were married.

The package you sent was the nicest piece of deployment mail I have ever received. Thank you. I'm lucky it ended up in my hands. I'm impressed by how much all of your students have learned about aviation this year. I just hope I did them justice in regards to the questions they had for me.

I also hope you don't mind that I replied to each kid individually. They had some very amusing stories and questions, and I wanted to acknowledge all of them. But there was one question in particular that I was asked so many times, I thought I'd answer it here instead. My call sign is kind of a silly one, so it's okay if you all laugh. I go by Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw, and my helmet is mostly red, yellow and black.

Your kids seem like a fun bunch, but I bet they keep you on your toes. Feel free to let them know they can write back to me again, but please include my name on the package this time. I don't know that I'd be lucky enough to have it fall into my hands again by chance. I'll just be here somewhere in the middle of the Pacific Ocean for a few more months, ready to answer any questions you throw at me. Hope to hear back from you soon.

Yours Truly,

Lt Bradley Bradshaw

The following day, he packed everything up and dropped it off with the rest of the ship's outgoing mail. There was a rumor that a helicopter would be coming to pick it up in the next day or two, and he wanted to make sure it got back to California and those fourth graders as soon as possible. On his way back to his bunk, Bradley stopped by the lounge to see if there was an iPad free, hoping to send a quick email or two. He was in luck. He also happened to have your email address memorized.

--------------------------

You yawned at your desk and checked the time on your computer. Within the next ten minutes, your classroom would go from silent solitude to mass chaos, so you took a minute to clear out your email inbox. You had a few messages from some parents and a reminder about Spirit Week from the superintendent. And a random piece of junk mail that must have slipped through the spam filters. You didn't know anyone with a US Navy email address, and you didn't know anyone named Bradley Bradshaw.

As you closed your laptop, you gasped and tried to pry it back open again as quickly as you could. The Navy! The package you sent a few weeks ago! Maybe it was someone writing back to your class! Of course it could just be someone saying they were sorry that they didn't have time to engage with your students, but you figured even that was better than nothing. 

"Come on," you whispered, entering your credentials again before your inbox reappeared on your screen. The email was just a few lines long, but it was addressed to you by name. You were smiling immediately as you read it.

I just wanted to let you know that I got the mail you sent to a deployed Naval Aviator. There's a package on its way to your school for your class. It should arrive in about a week or two. Your fourth graders provided me with several hours of entertainment, and I hope they find my answers to their many (and amusing) questions useful. Thanks for the laughs, and thanks for the photos, too. Can't tell you how much I've been enjoying them. Hope to hear from all of you again.

Yours Truly,

Lt Bradley Bradshaw

You squealed and pumped your fists in the air. Someone actually got the box! And he actually responded! The other, older teachers thought you were just wasting your time when you deviated from the lesson plans a bit. Literally all of them said there was no way anyone would write back, even though you took the time to go through the proper channels at Top Gun on North Island. But now you could rub it in their faces, all thanks to Bradley Bradshaw who sounded like he'd had as much fun with this whole thing as your class had.

Then your day really started as Violet and Oliver burst into your classroom, calling out your name with excitement in their voices. The rest of your kids followed behind them, already asking about the plans for the day and what kind of adventure you'd be taking them on in each subject. 

When you clapped your hands twice and said, "Good morning," they all clapped and replied with their own greeting, and then they sat quietly with their gazes fixed on you. "Guess who I just got an email from!"

"The president!" 

"My grandma!"

"My Cocker Spaniel!"

"Oliver's grandma!"

You just shook your head and tried not to laugh as you said, "None of the above. But do you remember when we wrote and packed up those letters for a real aviator in the military to read?" Most of the kids nodded, so you added, "Well, he emailed us! And he sent us some mail that should arrive in about a week!"

And telling them that was a mistake. Because you didn't know a moment of peace after that. Every morning, you had kids rushing into the room to see if the promised piece of mail arrived yet. Every day you had to disappoint them, but you were finding yourself a little disappointed, too. You wanted to know what this Bradley Bradshaw guy sent back. 

You'd responded to his initial email letting him know you and the kids in your class were delighted to hear from him and that you would let him know when the mail he sent arrived at your school. He didn't respond, but you figured he was busy. Too busy to constantly muck about with your class while he was thousands of miles away on a deployment. 

And that was what left you standing at your desk with your mouth hanging open in awe when the padded envelope did finally arrive one morning. Because when you carefully cut it open, you found not just one letter to the class but individual handwritten notes, one for each child.

"Wow," you whispered, pulling the note with your name written on the top out of the stack. This man seemed humble and sweet, and his letter made you laugh in more than one spot as you read through it. Then you read it again. He sounded apologetic about responding to each individual kid, but you felt like your insides were melting. Who would do that? Who would take the time to give individual attention to a bunch of nine and ten year olds besides you? And you were technically getting paid to do it. 

Bradley Bradshaw seemed willing to continue to engage with your kids, and you weren't going to stop him. Because starting that morning, he became something of a legend to your class. A celebrity. A real lieutenant in the Navy replied to all of their silly questions, and their love of aviation just grew from there. You figured you were going to have to keep your lesson plans going a bit longer while their faces lit up as you walked around the room and handed them each their notes. You had taken the time to skim them beforehand, often laughing at his sense of humor which seemed to jump off the pages.

"Can we write back to him?" Jayden asked as everyone read their notes from Lieutenant Bradshaw. "I have more questions."

You smiled and nodded. "Yes, you may write back to him." Then you postponed your geology lesson until the next day and let them spend the next forty minutes writing some followup letters. You took some pictures of them diligently toiling away at their desks, excitement on their faces. Then you bit your lip and sat down at your own desk.

As you started to construct an email letting him know the envelope had arrived, your thoughts drifted to what he might be like. Humble and sweet, for sure. But he also made it a point to tell you that the box from your class was the best piece of mail he'd ever received while deployed. Maybe he was a little bit lonely. Maybe he was single. Maybe he was stationed on the west coast. Your thoughts started to get ahead of you, and it was hard to reel them in when you imagined him excited to see another email from you. Smiling when he was handed another box from your class during mail call.

Dear Lt Bradley Bradshaw,

We got the envelope from you today, and my kids are absolutely thrilled! I'm not sure if you know how hard it can be to wrangle eighteen fourth graders all at one time, but they are currently sitting quietly and working on new letters for you to read. Once again, please don't feel obligated to continue correspondence if you're too busy. I'm sure you have other people you could be writing to who want your attention as well. I just wanted you to know they are overjoyed that a Naval officer took the time to answer their questions about aviation.

I have attached some photos as proof that they are sitting still. Thanks again for making their day.

You signed your name at the bottom the way you always would from your work email account, and then you attached the photos. After a brief debate about adding the selfie you took with Violet where most of your face was visible, you decided to just go for it. Adding it to the mix wouldn't hurt anything. It wasn't like this semi mystery man would be up all night thinking about you. 

But you found that you were still thinking about him when you went home to your silent house and made dinner that evening. Maybe he was a little bit lonely, but maybe you were, too.

-------------------------

It was amazing how infrequently Bradley found himself thinking about Vanessa. He was busier now with his duties picking up a bit more as his deployment wore on, but even when he was tired and in his bunk at night, his thoughts seldom settled on her like he was afraid they might. He didn't miss her or her half-hearted emails, and he wasn't craving the connection of reunion sex with her. 

Instead, he was thinking about what a group of fourth graders were learning about this week and what their cute teacher was up to. It had been a few days since you emailed him, letting him know that his package was delivered to your school. You made it sound like the kids were excited that he sent it in the first place, and when he really thought about it, he supposed some officers would have just eaten the snacks and tossed the notes in the trash.

He didn't reply to the email yet, still thrown off a bit by the pictures you attached. Your classroom was vibrant, and the kids were absorbed as they worked on more notes for him to read whenever they happened to be delivered to the carrier. But the photo with you in it held his attention longer than it should have. The fact that you were working at a school that was just a handful of miles from his damn house made him feel warm.

But what would he do about it? What could he do about it? Nothing. He didn't want you to think he was creepy. He still knew essentially nothing else about you. The only thing he could do was keep it friendly if not professional. Unless of course you did something to push the boundaries of conversation into a more personal realm. God, if you did....he didn't think he would be able to handle it. 

The next day, when he was heading out on deck to talk to the mechanics who were doing regular maintenance on the aircrafts, he took his phone. "Hey, you mind if I take a few photos of some of the engine parts? I want to send them to a class of fourth graders who will think it's cool."

"Go ahead, Lieutenant," the head mechanic replied. Then he smiled and asked, "You dating a teacher?"

Well. Wouldn't that be something? Bradley would never run out of curious pen pals. He would always have some fourth graders to take interesting photos for and to send notes to. He'd always have a classroom to visit as soon as he got home from a deployment.

He couldn't help but picture you as the teacher.

"Nothing like that," he replied, his voice a little gravelly. "Just writing to some kids who are learning about aviation."

After dinner, when he had a chance to use an iPad in the lounge, he did his best to put together a response to your email that would at least hint at the curiosity he felt. 

If all it takes is mail from three thousand miles away to get your class to sit quietly, then I should probably be writing to you every day. But I'm sure you're a great teacher. That's a given considering how much your students learned and shared with me. And I can assure you that I'm more than happy to take the time to write to your class. And you. Please don't think I feel obligated, because I do not. I want to.

I have attached a few pictures of some F/A-18 engine components as well as some of my cockpit controls. Each photo is labeled, but please let me know if you have any questions.

It was nice hearing from you.

Yours Truly,

Lt Bradley Bradshaw 

As soon as he hit send, he wanted to kick himself. Should he have included a photo of his face like you had twice now? Or did he already sound too desperate to hear from you and your class again?

"Shit," he muttered, looking around the lounge as if there was going to be someone here proficient in the art of getting to know a fourth grade teacher without sounding stupid. But it was too late now. All he could do was wait for the next mail call or hope you decided to write back to his ramblings by the next time he checked his email. 

-----------------------------

You were going to have to scrape your jaw off the floor. You had no idea what this man's face even looked like, but his hands were... something else. And his thighs... well, they were pretty great, too. It must have been too long since you got laid, because you were sitting at your desk in your classroom staring at the set of photos in your inbox, currently unable to look away from his right hand. It was wrapped around the throttle of his aircraft. It was elegant with attractive veins and rough calluses. You were sure that you were supposed to be focusing on the cockpit controls, but all you could see was that hand and his thick, muscular thighs below.

The next photo was no better for you. He was holding up his helmet with his call sign Rooster emblazoned across the front, and you were able to see his left ring finger. There was no wedding band. There was no evidence of an outline where a wedding band would belong. There was just his big, strong hand.

You whimpered softly while your students worked on their math tests. You couldn't help it as you took one last look before logging out of your email account. And now you needed to know if his face matched the very attractive image you had in your mind. 

When Jayden called your name, you rocketed to your feet like you'd been caught red handed. "Yes?" you squeaked, your voice sounding higher pitched than usual.

"I'm done with my test. May I have the hall pass and use the restroom?"

You handed it to him as the rest of your class finished working through the math problems. A few minutes later, when you collected the papers from them, Violet asked, "When is Lieutenant Bradshaw going to write back to us?"

It had only been a few days since you mailed him the second box of notes and some more snacks, but it made you happy that they were all so invested in learning more from him. 

"It will probably be a few weeks before we get anything in the mail. However... he did email me some pictures of engine and cockpit parts from the aircraft carrier for me to share with you guys." When you looked around the room, the kids were on the edges of their seats, excited expressions on their faces. With a laugh you added, "I was going to wait until tomorrow and use the projector to show them all to you, but if you're very well behaved for the rest of the afternoon, maybe I could pull them up on my computer for you to see them today."

Not two hours later, you were just as excited as the kids were to look at the photos... again. As they crowded around your desk, you opened up the first one of the cockpit to a barrage of questions. 

"Is that really his jet?"

"Is that the throttle?"

"What do all the buttons do?"

"Was this right before he flew it?"

Once again you were distracted, but you managed to click over to the next photo, and the kids gasped in delight. 

"His helmet is so cool!"

"It says Rooster!"

"That's his call sign!"

"Red is my favorite color!"

You just smiled softly and laughed. "Should we go ahead and start working on another list of questions for him?" you asked as you slowly scrolled through the rest of the pictures. "He said we can write back to him as much as we want to." When everyone cheered, you handed Oliver a marker and pointed to the board at the front of the classroom. "Let's start making a list."

You listened to all of your students call out questions for Bradley while Oliver wrote them down. Then Violet asked, "Can he send us a picture of his whole jet? From the outside of it?"

You cleared your throat and added, "Maybe he could get someone else to take the picture so he could stand in front of it. For size comparison."

Violet nodded, but you knew you were a fraud. Sure, it would be great for the kids to understand just how massive the F/A-18s were compared to an actual person, but you were the one who wanted to see all of Bradley. You were itching for it now. 

Later that night, you drank most of a bottle of wine and did something you promised yourself you'd never do. You logged into your work email account after nine o'clock. You skipped over the handful of unread emails from parents and clicked on the icon to compose a new message. With your liquid courage goading you on, you typed up a response to Lieutenant Bradley Bradshaw and hit send before you could think twice.

Thank you for the photos. They were very enlightening. We especially liked the ones where you were showing off your cockpit. Or I did, anyway. The kids liked all of them and started on another list of questions for you. Good luck getting rid of us now. 

We were wondering if you could have someone take a picture of you standing in front of your jet. For size comparison purposes. And also because my students would like to know what you look like. Hearing from you makes our day even better.

You couldn't believe how forward you were being with this man who you'd never even met in person, but you fell asleep thinking about his hands and what they might be capable of.

-------------------------

This Bradley makes me swoon. I've never wanted to be a fourth grade teacher so badly in my life. There is something that's starting to blossom between them even though they haven't even met in person. Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 3

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[little-raccoon-32]

Jealous

Pairing: Reader x Hotch (Criminal Minds)

Description: You have dinner with a district prosecutor after he promises to assist in the investigation of a killer. No big deal, right? Your boss certainly doesn’t seem to think so.

Reader is from the BAU. Younger woman/Older man. (Hotch gets jealous because he thinks he isn’t the older man in this scenario).

Gets a bit spicy at the end but not really explicit.

Inspired by the one scene from the show Younger. Props if you know what I’m talking about.

~*~

“Anything you want me to hand off to the chief, Pen?” You asked Garcia gently as you peeked into her office.

It was nearly midnight, but a late night at the Bureau was hardly unusual. Neither was your shyness to confront such a man like your boss.

The reason was the only thing that was slightly different.

Perhaps you were just trying to avoid the inevitable by asking Garcia (who pretty much did everything digitally anyways) if she needed anything done.

The blonde peeked up from her computer and smiled. “Nope,” she chirped, “Not yet at least. Just trying to finish up some loose ends.”

You nodded, almost disappointed. “Mhm. Got it. Have a good night then.”

“You, too, Hon!” She waved you off.

With a final goodbye, you clenched your Manila folders tightly and walked through the empty office where even Spencer had already gone home.

Only three people left.

You stood outside your boss’s door, unconsciously fixing your appearance. It was always nerve racking to be in front of such a handsome specimen - that man in particular.

Even since you first met him, you felt like a shy schoolgirl crushing on her teacher. Unfortunately, him being your boss and all, that wasn’t so far off from the truth.

But now you’re nervous for a whole other reason.

The team was working on a case, a serial killer, which was the usual. What was unusual was the suave, new district prosecutor who was ready to fight tooth and nail to help with the investigation.

You were pleasantly surprised at him being… actually oddly pleasant.

He was into the classics, funny yet also sweet. Not to mention he was rather handsome despite being several years older than you - Penelope gushed about that part. A true silver fox. (Meow~ as she added).

You liked him - but not the way he seemed to like you.

When you met him with the rest of the crew, he made sure to shake everyone’s hand. But when he got to you, he slowed down, staring at you in an almost surprised manner.

You offered up a tight lipped but sweet smile. He shook your hand, gaze and tone softening as he introduced himself to you.

It reminded you of when you first met Hotch. Only when your boss shook your hand, you almost collapsed on the spot.

When he held your hand for what seemed to be a bit too long, Hotch cleared his throat. “I believe there’s something you wanted to speak to us about,” he said firmly.

The prosecutor blinked and nodded, quickly leading the team into a meeting room with a cordial smile.

Throughout the case, this man and you shared a few nice conversations, even a few jokes. He was good company.

But out of the corner of your eye, you could almost always see your older boss watching you both like a hawk.

You’re a profiler - it’s literally your job to pick up on cues. But God forbid you be naïve so you wouldn’t even entertain the thought of him being jealous.

No, not the handsome, stoic, can simply roll up his sleeves and get any girl or far more experienced, confident, and put together woman than you.

(Seriously, those forearms of his are the equivalent to a medieval woman showing off her ankles).

Then the prosecutor asked you to dinner - a date.

At first you were unsure. After all, how could you be on a date without mourning the fact it wasn’t your boss across from you?

But he politely insisted, winking while saying he’d make your case the top priority in a light manner. Plus, he insisted on it being casual. So you took the bribe. Free food was free food and he promised to pay the check.

At least he was hot. (Daddy vibes as Penelope very helpfully added).

And admittedly… it was nice! You enjoyed it even - but more as a friend than a potential romantic partner.

But the life of a profiler is never smooth sailing and… well… Rossi happened to be meeting up with an old friend there as well - bringing Hotch as a plus one.

You’ll never forget meeting his eyes from across the dimly lit room. It was embarrassing, scandalous even.

You felt like a kid caught with their hand stuck in a cookie jar.

You desperately wanted to curl up and disappear. But apparently Hotch was a sadist as he approached the table in unfairly, cool, confident strides.

He looked almost angry, an idea confirmed to you when Rossi raised his whiskey glass in the air towards you with a smirk as if to say good luck.

“Y/N.”

“H-Hotch,” you nearly choked out.

Your date blinked but smiled. “What a surprise, chief. Hope you don’t mind me stealing one of your agents, do you?” He joked with a laugh, but when Hotch remained stoney faced, he quickly shut up.

“You’re having dinner… with the district prosecutor,” Hotch observed in an eerily calm manner.

His eyes were intense, staring right into your soul, particularly daring you to lie - but to also tell the truth as well.

Gulping a bit, you nodded slightly like an ashamed child. “Yeah. Uhm… y-yeah.” You mumbled awkwardly, unsure of what to say.

You watched as his jaw tensed, his eyes roaming your formal wear. “Right…” he said, “You look… nice,” he added.

“Oh. T-Thank you,” you smiled at him brightly. Your actual date had said the same thing, but frankly, Hotchner’s words meant so much more.

Hotch looked over at your date once more, a look of disdain in his eyes before turning back to you. “I apologize for interrupting,” your boss nodded towards you, “call me if you need me,” he forced out before walking back into the awaiting arms of Rossi.

Your date whistled. “Well that was a surprise. I didn’t know a person could be so intense,” he chuckled.

You forced out a tight lipped smile. “Yeah…” you mumbled, no longer that much hungry anymore.

“Actually, we’ve got a long day tomorrow and… you know, we should probably get some sleep,” you said, ignoring the guilt bubbling in your gut.

The prosecutor, albeit slightly disappointed, agreed and paid the check, him insisting on giving you a ride home.

You agreed. Unfortunately, as you walked out of the restaurant, your boss’s eyes followed with every step.

So that lead you to now, in front of your boss’s door, needing to simply give him a report but feeling like he was giving you a death sentence.

He was likely questioning your professionalism.

Sighing, you knocked on his door, only receiving a curt “come in” in reply.

You hesitantly opened the door, entering meekly as Aaron barely spared you a glance, not saying anything as he continued scanning the file in front of him.

“I finished the report you asked for,” you informed weakly. “Put it on my desk. Thanks,” he said.

Your eyes widened slightly. You knew him to be a no-nonsense man, but… he always seemed to treat you a bit more sensitively than the others. More gentle.

Perhaps that was because of your younger age but Reid wasn’t much younger than you and Hotch treated him like he was an annoying little orphan who clung to an older, grumpy man for a parental figure.

You did as he said, quickly putting the report on the edge of his desk and backing up. “Is there… anything else I can do for you, sir?” You mumbled unsurely.

This time, Hotch refused to even glance up. “No. Go home and get some rest,” he ordered blankly.

Once more, you blinked in surprise before furrowing eyebrows slightly.

It didn’t take a profiler, much less a genius, to tell something was bothering him - and you were almost 90% sure on what this was about.

“Is this about my date?” You asked bluntly, a burst of confidence taking even you by surprise.

Finally, Hotch looked up at you, taking a deep breath and leaning back against his chair with a blank look. “What makes you say that?”

“You’ve been… excuse me for saying this, petty since you saw me with that prosecutor. Why? Do you think it’s unprofessional or something?” You questioned, getting a bit riled up in the heat of the moment.

Hotch sighed. “It may not be the best look, but you’re a grown woman and you can make your own choices,” he replied, trying to sound nonchalant but definitely sounding more irritated.

“…You sound angry.”

“Angry?” Hotch said, his put-together composure cracking. And frankly, good.

He stood up from his chair and let out a tired, almost pained sigh. “Angry? Yeah. Angry, stressed, annoyed, tired,” he paced the floor behind his desk, running his hand through his hair.

“You had dinner with a district prosecutor, so what?” He said more so to himself than you.

Hotch suddenly turned to you. “Are you dating him now? Was was it about him then?” He asked suddenly, making you feel like a victim of his brutal interrogations.

“W-What?” You shivered out. Hotch rubbed his temples, taking a deep breath before throwing his arms down at his side. “Damn it,” he cursed.

Taking a deep breath, you looked at your boss with wide, cautious eyes trying to remain calm. “I just think… you shouldn’t make a judgement before you know all the facts…”

Aaron Hotchner took yet another deep breath, slightly pacing back and forth once more. As he spoke, he seemed to only get angrier while taking a few steps closer to you.

“You’re right. I don’t know. I don’t know how we’re going to get this new unsub, I don’t know what I’m going to do about Strauss breathing down by neck, and I don’t know why you’re dating an older man in the criminal justice system who isn’t ME!”

…

The world seemed to pause for the both of you.

Your eyes were wide in shock as you stared in silence. Not only had the usually composed and stoic chief Hotchner just went low-key ballistic, but he also just confessed some kind of romantic feelings towards you.

Aaron huffed and brought himself back up to full height. He blinked at you, waiting for a response - expecting you to tell him off - when the door suddenly opened.

“Hey~!” Penelope greeted sweetly as she waltzed through the door with a smile. You and Aaron only had the brain capacity to spare her a glance.

The quirky woman got in between you, but not so to obscure your vision of each other. “Sorry to interrupt but I finished these papers and I really want to go home now. I mean, beauty sleep and all,” she laughed as she placed the stack of papers over Hotch’s desk.

Penelope backed up with a simple grin, looking between you and Hotch, waiting for a reply. He only murmured a stiff ‘thank you’ as both of you avoided eye contact.

The woman blinked before her own eyes went wide. “Oh… OH. Oh, I am so, so sorry,” Penelope babbled as she backed up to the door. “I-I’m just gonna… go. Pretend I wasn’t even here, okay?” She said as she reached the door, giving you a quick thumbs up before likely scurrying away.

You and Hotch continued to stand across from each other, unable to speak or even meet the other’s gaze.

Finally, Aaron spoke with a sigh. “So…” he mumbled, realizing the extensive HR visit he may soon be receiving.

“So…?” You echoed back, “what now?” You drew out slowly.

The man closed his eyes, messaging the bridge of his nose before finally, finally turning his gaze to you.

“Tell me you don’t want this - don’t want me - and… we can forget all this ever happened… mostly for my sake,” he muttered the last part.

You turned your eyes towards the floor for a minute. Perhaps it was his confession that a sudden burst of confidence erupted but eventually you managed to speak up.

“I can’t do that…” You whispered softly as Hotch peeked up at you from the hand covering his face. “Aaron, I… I want you but… is… this even allowed?” Probably not.

But hearing your own confirmation, Hotch stepped forwards. “Y/N. I don’t even care.”

With that, he practically rushed you (not that you were complaining) and fiercely, with only a fierceness of a man barely able to keep a lid on his desires, pressed his lips to yours in a searing kiss.

Your bodies molded against each other perfectly, one of his large hands cradling the back of your head to assist in keeping your lips to his. His other arm wrapped around you to eliminate any dreaded, unnecessary and unwanted space between the two of you that had long outstayed its welcome.

One of your own arms came to wrap around his neck encouragingly as your opposite hand rested on the side of his face, his faint stubble brushing against your palm.

In a tangle of limbs, he moved you around and back against the desk until your bottom was atop of the dark wood.

In an almost cruel but necessary manner, Aaron pulled away from your lips for a moment. “Say you don’t want this and I’ll stop.”

“Please don’t,” you nearly begged him (but hey, why have shame when this absolute specimen of a man was caging you in?) “Aaron, I want you. I really do.”

Aaron huffed and desperately loosened his tie, throwing it uncaringly somewhere in the room. “You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to hear that from you,” he said before locking lips once more to your delight.

~*~BOUNUS~*~

“The ship has sailed, I repeat, the ship has sailed!” Penelope squealed as she crouched ‘stealthily’ outside Hotch’s office.

“Woah, woah, woah. What’s sailed, babygirl?” Derek questioned worriedly over the phone, the grogginess of sleep leaving his voice.

“The USS (Y/N)ner! Oh my god, I can the desk moving…!” Penelope babbled in near manic delirium of joy.

Derek dragged a hand over his face. “No kidding… it happened?”

“It finally happened!” Penelope squealed once more, “My ship has left the port,” she said before going dead silent at a sudden noise of pleasure behind the wall she was crouched next to.

“Was that…?”

“Oh my God, they’re wasting no time whatsoever. Y/N, you go girl!”

“Damn,” Derek breathed out as those certain noises only got louder. Seems they forgot Garcia was there… again.

Penelope gasped. “It’s getting spicy~…” she said.

“Babygirl, get outta there.”

“I know, I know.”

“Penelope, now!”

“I’m going!”

“Guess we’re getting new HR buddies.”

~*~

Just a little one shot because Hotch is unfairly pretty and the Younger TV series really works with this pairing. Hope you enjoyed. 👍

[luigisbambinaaa]

Soft Spot Pt. 2 ~

summary: spring break trip to cabo, luigi gets wiped out, and you’re sent to help him ;)

content warning: smut, oral (both receiving), p in v, luigi gets bruised

an: hi!! thank you to everyone that liked, shared, and commented on part 1!!!! also thank u to my homie palmersluvr for help with the formatting tho im still figuring it out. idk the word count but this shit is sooo long but i had so much fucking fun writing this so i hope you all enjoy :)! take a shot for every single time i said “rhythm” lol.

part 1

————————

weeks passed, and despite the playful texts shared between you and luigi, he wasn’t able to come back for a second “appointment”.

not because he didn’t want to. but because midterms had everyone busy— especially him.

sleep schedules were fucked up, group chats barely active, and every inch of the library taken over by students running on iced coffee.

luigi had practically disappeared— only proof of his existence being the many students that he tutored making jokes about how their TA had a spot reserved in heaven for all the hard work he’s done for them.

and yet, despite the chaos, there hadn’t been a single mention of back pain from him or his friends.

if anything, everyone noticed he seemed lighter. maybe your hands really had worked some sort of magic.

and eventually you were all able to taste the sweet freedom of spring break. friends of friends all headed to cabo for a well deserved get away.

instagram buzzing with photo dumps of tan lines and tiny bikinis, camera roll full of coconut drinks, beach sunsets, and grainy late-night dinners.

the resort ridiculously beautiful— picked out by luigi and others. shady palm trees stretching over the infinity pool, balconies overlooking the ocean, music a constant hum in the background no matter the hour. every corner full of beauty.

spending mornings with your girls walking the shoreline, tucking cute little seashells into your beach bag. afternoons spent exploring, wandering through colorful local markets, vendors beckoning you over in spanish, taking polaroids of everything. chaotic dinners with messy seafood platters, one too many margaritas, and tables full of friends cramming in every space they could.

and always, luigi was there, lingering just close enough to keep you on your toes. the flirting having been buried under study guides and endless cups of coffee— but not entirely gone.

you felt it in the way his eyes lingered on you in your sundresses, in the way he saved the empty chair next to him for you, in the way your fingers would brush when passing certain items across the table, yet neither of you said anything.

it was the kind of tension that hung in the air without needing to be addressed aloud. sweet, aching, and unbothered— until it wasn’t.

all the boys had decided to go out early that particular morning to catch some waves, lugging huge surfboards down to the beach while you and the rest of the girls stayed behind for some late brunch at the resort cafe.

you were mid-bite into a piece of french toast when someone burst into the outdoor patio, face red and out of breath.

“luigi wiped out bad on a huge wave,” they panted, trying to catch their breath, “board slammed him in the back, he should be okay, but he’s out for the day. they took him back to the room to rest.”

your stomach dropped. you honestly didn’t even realize how much you’d been hoping he’d show up that day, maybe just for lunch or just to sneak a few glances at you.

“can someone go check on him?” one of your friends asked, glancing around the table. “he’s probably fine, just milking it. but still.”

many of them shrugged, too caught up in their delicious breakfast food or downing their drinks to volunteer.

“you’re the nicest one here and have the expertise,” another added, pointing her fork at you with a smile. “can you go make sure he’s still breathing? im sure he won’t bite.”

they didn’t know. shit, nobody knew about you two. and so you nodded, wiping your hands on a napkin and standing slowly.

you headed back to your room first— not wanting to show up empty-handed. grabbing some essentials from your suitcase like some peppermint oil, aloe vera, the same lotion you used on him in your dorm, all thrown into your tote bag.

when you stepped back out into the hallway, one of the guys had caught up to you and handed you a spare key card.

“he’s in one of the oceanfront suites so i figured you might need this since he’s probably bed ridden”

you mutter a thank you and walked a few doors down the hallway. with the door clicking shut behind you, you stood still for a second, just admiring.

everything was nicer, sleek, clean, and expensive. the king sized bed resembling a cloud , a perfect plush comforter thrown over. floor to ceiling windows letting in sunlight that kissed every surface in gold, and a soft sea breeze drifting in through his open balcony door. and then there was a hot tub, massive and polished. half sunk into the floor near the balcony, something out of a dream.

your breath hitched.

“luigi?”

you called out gently, stepping further into his room. and then you saw him.

sprawled out across the bed, shirtless, eyes half closed, with a pillow or two tucked under his lower back.

his swimming trunks were riding low, dangerously low. low enough that your eyes traveled down the faint trail of hair leading down his stomach— the one you didn’t get to appreciate too much before.

your fingers clenched slightly around the strap of your tote bag, heart skipping a beat.

“…hi.” he replies softly and shyly.

you don’t say anything at first, tossing your bag on the dresser and kicking off your sandals without a second thought.

the bed dips slightly under your weight as you carefully climbed up beside him, leaning in slowly, one hand going to cradle the side of his face, your fingers instinctively tangling themselves in his curls, scratching his scalp softly.

“what the hell happened?” you murmured, brushing your thumb over the curve of his cheek. “how bad is it?”

he leaned into your touch just a little, lashes low and heat radiating off of him.

“hurts like a bitch,” he admitted, lips twitching into a tired grin, “but seeing you kind of helps.”

you rolled your eyes, but your thumb still stroked gently over his cheek.

“you’re such a baby,” you muttered, “let me see.”

he blinked up at you, hesitant. you pull back enough to sit on your knees, glancing down at the way his arm was draped over his stomach.

“come on, turn over so i can see, or do i need to do it for you?”

he grumbles something about you being bossy, but shifts anyway to let you get a good look. wincing slightly as he moved his arm, revealing an angry red mark blooming across his lower back and side— already beginning to bruise, dark and raw.

you sucked in a quiet breath.

“jesus, luigi…”

you reached for your tote bag and rummaged through it, pulling out the lotion and peppermint oil, warming it up in your hands.

“this might sting a little,” you warned.

“i trust you,” he murmured, eyes falling closed again.

your hands pressed carefully to his skin in slow, gentle circles at first, barely any pressure. and his breath hitched, not from pain, but from you and how you knew exactly where to touch without asking.

you kept your focus low, jaw clenching and unclenching, pretending not to notice the way his hips twitched slightly when your palms smoothed along the curve of his waist.

“relax,” you whisper, “I’ve got you.”

your fingers moved in slow, practiced motions, the familiar rhythm calming the both of you. he was quiet under your touch, face buried into a pillow, muscles slowly uncoiling under your hands.

“you’re so dumb,” you said gently, a little laugh slipping out. “what were you even trying to do? show off? impress the ocean?”

luigi letting out a small groan and barely lifting his head mumbles, “was tryna ride the wave,” his words slurred with exhaustion and comfort.

you pressed your thumbs in a little deeper to the sides of his bruises, careful but firm.

“and it rode you huh?”

“mhmmm…”

you smiled, shaking your head, continuing— moving a bit lower, tracing along the edges of his blooming bruises. he let out a low whimper, somewhere between a sigh and a moan, his fingers slightly curling into the sheets.

“seriously gi,” you murmured, softer now. “you could’ve really hurt yourself.”

“m’sorry,” he breathed, voice small now. “didn’t mean to.”

you leaned down just a little, hair falling over your shoulder as you whispered near his ear. “you gotta stop being reckless. who’s gonna fix you up next time if i’m not around?”

his only answer being a quiet, needy whine— his head tilting slightly towards you.

and with you leaning over him like that, face being close and hair brushing his skin, he lifted his chin just enough to press his lips to yours. soft and tentative. you froze just for a second, then kissed him back just as gently.

you’re the first one to pull away, giving his hair a light tug. “you better behave,” you whispered, breath warm against his mouth. “or i won’t finish your massage.”

he grinned, lazy and dazed. “im behaving,” he mumbled, already slumping back into the pillow like your kiss was enough to sedate him.

you scooped up a little more oil into your palms and worked quietly for a few more minutes— slow and careful movements over the bruising, his muscles loose now.

and then, a soft murmur:

“i think my back’s good now… think you could get my shoulders?”

…

“…and maybe my chest too?”

you smirked and glanced down at him.

“whatever you want princess”

he began to turn over, shifting on his side with a groan, but as you were about to guide him onto his back—

“wait not like this.”

before you could even reply, his hands slid over your hips and in one quick motion, he brought you right into his lap.

you let out a quiet gasp, straddling him now, palms braced on his bare chest as he looked up at you— eyes dark and blown out.

“like this.” his voice barely above a whisper.

you didn’t say anything, just swallowed hard and nodded once. your fingers dipped back into the oil, rubbing it between your palms to warm it up before sliding your hands over his chest.

he was pretty still beneath you, save for the tiny shifts of his body. sharp inhales when your thumbs pressed into his skin, the subtle twitch of his thighs when you pressed too low.

“shit,” he breathed, voice hitching higher this time, soft and strained. “feels so good…”

your hands moved to his shoulders, thumbs circling into tight knots just beneath his neck. it was a bit of a stretch from your spot in his lap, so you leaned forward, your chest brushing against his, your breath grazing his jaw.

and then his lips found yours again, lazy and slow. he kissed you without urgency, one hand sliding to the small of your back, and the other on your thigh, trying to keep himself grounded.

you kissed him back, just as slow. before pulling away slightly, catching your breath, and going back to his shoulders as if nothing happened.

he groaned again, though not from the massage this time.

“not fair,” he muttered.

you laughed under your breath, going back to press into a particularly tight spot behind his shoulder blade.

“too bad.”

you leaned back down, lips finding his again and this time it gets heavier. his mouth opened beneath yours, teeth dragging your bottom lip between his, and his hips shifting beneath you.

he groaned into your mouth, deeper, and then—

his hips rolled up. just once. slow, instinctual, and desperate.

he sighed, lips parting as he dropped his head back into the pillow, his chest rising and falling fast under your palms.

“fuck…”

you didn’t move at first. just stayed still in his lap, enjoying the rise of fall of his chest. and then softly, you leaned in again.

you kissed the corner of his mouth— a gentle peck, then another, and another. then along his jaw. then that sensitive spot just below his ear, that always makes him shiver.

you worked your way down slowly, kissing along the edge of his throat, his collarbone, your mouth lingering all over as he tilted his head back to give you more access.

“baby…” he whispers, his voice wrecked.

his hands slide up your sides, slow and kinda unsure. when his fingers brushed the hem of your swimsuit coverup, you let your arms fall to your sides, silently giving him the permission he wanted.

he sat up slowly, groaning softly at the movement and peeled the fabric from your body in one slow motion, letting it fall somewhere in the room.

then his fingers reached the tie of your bikini top. he tugged at it gently, watching you the entire time. when you didn’t protest, he undid the knot with shaky fingers and let the top slip away.

his breath hitched.

“fuck, you’re—“

he didn’t even let himself finish before his mouth was already on you. soft kisses at first, then his lips closed around the swell of your breasts, tongue flicking, hands pressing you closer to him as you arched your back.

your quiet gasp became a whimper.

“oh…”

his groan followed instantly. he sucked a little harder, peppering warm, open mouthed kisses near your nipple.

“ you sound so pretty,” he mumbled against your skin. “don’t stop.”

then, without another word, he took your nipple into his mouth, gentle and almost hesitant at first. his tongue swirled around it, his lips closing in a tight, wet seal as he suckled, like you were his favorite lollipop.

you let out a sharp little moan, surprised by how sensitive you were and how good it felt to have him care for you as well. he groaned in return, the sound vibrating through your chest.

his hand slid up your spine, holding you steady as he moved over to your other nipple, showering it with the same attention— his tongue flicking, lips tugging just right to make you whimper again.

you threaded your fingers through his curls, breathing uneven, your thighs tightening around his hips as his mouth latched onto you. each moan that escaped your lips, pulled a groan from his— almost like he couldn’t help it, like your sounds were enough to unravel him.

your hips started to move before you even realized with small, slow rolls against his lap, the friction sending sparks between your thighs with every pass.

luigi’s breath hitched.

his hands gripped your waist tighter, thumbs brushing over your bare skin as he tried to ground himself, his eyes fluttering shut as your bodies rocked together in a lazy rhythm.

“fuck… that feels so good,” he murmured, forehead resting against your chest.

your fingers carded through his curls, your lips brushing over the top of his head, all tender and affectionate while your hips kept working him over.

but then—

a sharp inhale.

“ah- shit-“

he winced, body tensing up beneath you, and you froze instantly.

“your back?” you whispered.

he nodded, jaw clenched, and brows drawn tight.

“just moved a little weird, m’okay,” he exhaled, trying to wave it off.

you shook your head and cupped his cheek.

“nope. lay down babe. let me take care of you.”

he didn’t argue. just sank back into the pillows with a groan, arms falling to his sides like he had no fight left.

you kissed down his chest as you moved, slow and deliberate. letting your mouth explore every inch of his skin, from the curve of his pecs to the soft dips between his abs.

he was already breathing harder by the time you reached for the faint trail of hair leading down— that happy trail you admired earlier.

you licked a slow stripe down it and then another, watching him twitch slightly under you. his hips shifted again, his swimming trunks now tented and clinging low to his hips.

you hooked your fingers into the waistband, tugging them down in one smooth, letting him spring free, the weight of him softly slapping against his lower abdomen. his hissed, not from pain, but from need.

you hovered above him, eyes locked on his face as you leaned down and gave him a single, teasing kitten lick across the tip.

he groaned, loud and frustrated.

you did it again, this time even slower. and then another, barely brushing his sensitive underside.

his hips flexed, but you pulled back just in time, smiling softly.

“be patient,” you whispered, pressing a kiss to his thigh.

you kept it at that— delicate little licks of your tongue that barely counted as relief. just enough to make him squirm, to make him whine, to keep him right there on the edge.

“please,” he gasped, hips twitching upwards only for you to press them down.

“please, i can’t— i need—“

but you didn’t give in. instead, your hands held his hips steady, fingers digging into his warm skin, and your tongue tracing lazy circles around his sensitive tip.

another kitten lick, then met with a breathless groan.

he was shaking now, head turned to the side, eyes squeezing shut as he fought to keep his composure. his thighs tensing under your touch and his voice falling into almost incoherent whimpers.

“amore, please— im gonna—“

and then he did.

luigi’s whole body arched beneath you with a strangled moan, hips stuttering as he came hard against his stomach, all hot, messy, and sudden.

you kept going, soft and unrelenting, licking up everything he gave you with gentle care. every flick of your tongue making him twitch and sigh, oversensitive but too far gone to protest.

once you had cleaned him up, you leaned in close and pressed a tender kiss right to his tip. he let out a breathless laugh, eyes glassy and lips parted.

you smiled, resting your head just above his hips as you looked up at him, taking him in. you stayed like that for a bit, fingers tracing light circles on his thigh as he caught his breath.

his chest rose and fell in soft waves, his skin still flushed and forehead a little damp with sweat, lips parted in a dazed smile.

you leaned in again, pressing a kiss to his abdomen, another to his chest before moving upwards to curl into his side. your palms smoothed over his stomach, resting there while your nose brushed his jaw.

“how’s your back?” you whispered.

he chuckled weakly, still breathless, “honestly? im not even worried about it anymore.”

you scoffed and giggled into his neck, letting your fingers shift lower again, brushing over the curve of his hip.

then he turned his head, eyes burning behind the softness they had.

“let me return the favor,” he murmured. “please.”

your heart skipped a beat.

“luigi…”

but he was already moving. hands finding your bikini bottoms, fingers sliding against the strings at your hips as he untied them, tossing the fabric somewhere into the room.

his voice was hoarse, low and pleading.

“wanna taste you. been thinking about it since the day you made me take photos of you in that tiny bikini with your polaroid on the beach.”

you didn’t argue with that and let him guide you up his chest. letting his lips brush your skin the whole way up, until your thighs framed his face and your knees sank into the mattress on either sides of his head.

his hands gripped your hips, eyes looking up to meet yours as he exhaled, “let me take care of you too.”

he barely gave you time to settle above him before he was pulling you down hard. his grip tightening around your thighs, dragging you fully down onto his mouth, his tongue already parting you before you could even exhale.

your gasp nearly hit the ceiling, luigi wasnt soft nor gentle, he was hungry.

he moaned into you like he was starving— like just the taste of you was enough to keep him alive. his mouth moved so recklessly, tongue licking broad, wet stripes before curling into where you needed him most, lips sealing around you in a filthy, perfect kiss.

you tried to lift yourself just slightly, just enough to catch your breath but his arms locked tighter around your thighs, pinning you down against him.

“luigi—“

you barely got his name out before— crack!

his palm landed a sharp slap to your ass. not hard enough to hurt, but firm enough to remind you he was in control right now.

your whole body jolted, letting out a surprised moan as you instinctively ground yourself down harder against his mouth and started grinding. slow at first, trying to find the perfect rhythm, and then faster and messier, as he just let you ride him, his pretty nose nudging against your clit.

he sucked, licked, devoured.

“fuck baby— you’re so good.” you moaned, voice shaking as your fingers tangled themselves in his curls, tugging hard.

“you’re making me feel so fucking good— i can’t—“ and he groaned under you, the sound vibrating against your pussy, making your thighs clamp tighter around his head. and still, he didn’t let up.

just kept licking like a man possessed, grip tightening, strong hands digging into your thighs, keeping you locked in place.

your body was trembling, skin flushed, that heat ready to snap— and luigi knew it.

and right when you were teetering, mouth hung open and breath stuttering— his lips latched onto your clit.

not soft or teasing, just purely desperate.

he sucked hard, his tongue flicking mercilessly, drawing fast, tight circles that made your vision go white.

“oh—fuck—luigi!”

the loudest moan tore out of you, sharp, raw, and damn near broken as the pleasure slammed into you. your thighs crammed around him, fingers yanking on his hair, hips jerking uncontrollably as your orgasm hit with a violent force.

and he held you there, through every gasp, twitch, and tremble. sucking, licking, chasing every last drop of your cum like he couldn’t fathom letting any of it going to waste.

even as your body gave out and you tried to pull away— he didn’t let you. he stayed there, moaning into you, drunk on your release.

your body still trembling when he released the tight grip he had on you, letting your thighs relax, pressing soft, tender kisses along the inside of your legs. and when you looked down at him, he was already watching you with wide eyes, swollen lips, and cheeks tinted pink.

“c’mere,” he whispered. barely having the strength to move, but you wanted to be close, needing it. you climbed down slowly and he met you half way— sitting up, arms wrapping around your waist and pulling you into his lap.

your chests pressed together and noses brushing as your foreheads touched, “you okay?” he murmured, stroking his thumb over your hip.

“yeah,” you whispered, still trying to catch your breath. “are you?”

he smiled, just a little, “never been better.”

your lips met again, slow as his hands roamed your back, your thighs, and your waist— like he couldn’t get enough of you.

and as your hips instinctively shifted against him, he let out the softest groan against your mouth. you felt him, already hard and ready, pressing against your pussy.

he reached down, lining himself up carefully, and you sank down on him, both of you letting out content sighs. both stilling for a moment, getting adjusted.

and then slowly, you began to move, grinding, rocking, and meeting him half way every time he lifted his hips. his hands held your waist to anchor himself in the moment, just feeling all of you.

your name left his lips like a prayer and your moans soft and breathy as your bodies rocked against each other in perfect rhythm.

your lips brushed over his jaw as your hips rolled against his, “you feel so good,” you whispered against his skin. “So deep…”

luigi groaned, tightening his arms around you, the sound buried in your shoulder, “you’re fucking perfect, pussy’s so fucking tight.” he breathed, voice low and thick.

his hands slid from your waist down to the small of your back, guiding you gently, helping you move just right— until his cock hit that sweet spot inside you that made your body jolt.

“yeah? right there?” he asked, lips brushing the shell of ear.

you nodded, nails lightly digging into his shoulders. “yes—right there, baby.”

he adjusted his angle slightly, and then a slow, precise thrust upward, so deep. and it hit, your whole body clenching around him, and your moan came out softer, higher than before.

he pulled back just enough to get a good look at you, eyes glassy, lips swollen, and tits littered in love bites. your forehead pressed to his, your bodies meeting in such an intimate rhythm.

“you make me feel so good, so full,” you whispered, barely able to speak through the heat pooling low in your stomach.

he kissed you, harder this time and then he took over, just a little. guiding your hips with one hand while the other slid down to hold your thigh as he angled his next thrust perfectly into that soft, sensitive spot inside you.

“there we go,” he rasped, dragging his lips along your neck.

“let me take care of you, baby. let me give you everything.”

his rhythm had started to slow, a bit overwhelmed. from the way your body clung to his, from how tight, how wet, how delicious you felt wrapped around him. his head dipped to your shoulder, breath ragged against your skin, big hands grasping your hips attempting to ground himself.

but you felt ready now, your body humming with energy again—refueled by every groan, every helpless twitch of his hips, and every shaky breath that tumbled from his lips.

so you started to move. a soft bounce at first, just enough to shift the angle, taking in more of him. then another. then faster. luigi gasped, back arching slightly, eyes squeezing shut as you rode him with more control.

your lips hovered near his ear, voice warm and broken in between moans, “you’re so deep inside me, gi...” he let out the quietest whimper, hands trembling against your skin.

“so big… stretching me so good. you feel it, don’t you? how wet you make me?”

he could barely speak, just nodded. barely.

and then—click. the door handle turned.

your bodies froze, just for a second, before luigi pulled you tighter against him, shielding you, even as your hips never faltered.

“yo luigi! how you holding up man?” a familiar voice called through the narrow crack in the door. he hadn’t fully stepped inside, just peeked the door open a few inches, only being able to see the edge of the bed and maybe luigi’s bare shoulder. the rest, being you fully naked and still grinding in his lap, was completely hidden by the angle.

luigi’s eyes blew wide, his breath catching in his throat.

“you—you gotta stop,” he hissed into your neck, biting back groan. “please—“

you leaned in, brushing your mouth against his ear, voice was sweet as candy while your hips rolled again, deep and slow.

“answer him.”

“let him hear how good you’re feeling.”

luigi’s hand flew to your waist, attempting to still you, but it was no use.

“i—uh,” he choked out, voice shaking. “yeah—i’m good man, just resting.”

his friend paused, “cool, just making sure. let us know if you need anything.”

you didn’t let him get a chance to recover. the second the door clicked shut, you pushed him backwards, your palms resting on his chest as you eased him down against the bed, his eyes still wide and wrecked under you.

his head hit the pillow, curls sticking to his forehead, and his chest heaving as you straddled him fully again.

“you’ve been so good,” you whispered, voice shaking with need. “but now i need more.”

and then you started to really move. your thighs burned as you began bouncing harder, hips slapping against his with wet desperate sounds, so intense, overwhelming, and fast. luigi’s hands scrambled to hold you, his fingers digging into your waist like he might slip through the bed if he didn’t anchor himself to you.

“f-fuck baby—“ he gasped, voice breaking. “that’s—too much—“ but he didn’t stop you.

he bent his knees suddenly, feet flat on the mattress and thrusted up. hard. your whole body jolted, a choked moan spilling out of your mouth as he met your bounces with the same fervor. each thrust slammed deeper and harder, matching the way you rode him until all that could be heard was skin slapping and both of you chanting each other’s names over and over.

“yesyesyes—lu, just like that—“ you cried out as he fucked up into you like he was trying to split you open from the inside.

“you feel so fucking good,” he groaned, eyes hazy and voice raw. “such a tight little pussy amore— so perfect, can’t even hold back anymore.”

your movements became sloppier, desperation seeping through, your bodies completely lost in each other. just full of need. just you and him, chasing that sweet finish with matching desperation.

your name tumbled from his mouth in broken gasps, sweat slicking his chest where your bodies met, the heat between you two unbearable in the most delicious way.

and then his voice cracked out, desperate and strained, “i—fuck—i should probably pull out.” but his hips never slowed, because he didn’t really mean it and you both knew it. you leaned forward, pressing your chest to his, mouth by his ear as you wrapped your legs tightly around his waist.

“don’t,” you begged, breath heavy and hot. “i wanna feel you. want you to stay inside me.”

his groan was guttural, almost pained with how badly he had been waiting for that permission.

“fuck—fuck—“

your nails dragged down his back, your body grinding back into every one of his thrusts, and then everything shattered.

you came first, gasping, shaking, clinging to him like you wouldn’t survive without him.

“luigi—oh god baby, don’t stop—don’t—“

he followed instantly, crying out your name into your neck, hips buried to the hilt as he spilled inside you, his body trembling beneath yours as the outside world faded away.

your bodies stayed tangled for a while, skin to skin, limbs loose, and breathing slowly coming back down. the room was quiet now, except for the soft hum of the ocean breeze drifting through the balcony door.

luigi’s heartbeat thudded gently beneath your cheek as you laid against his chest your fingers tracing absentminded shapes against his ribs. eventually, he shifted beneath you, careful and slow, kissing your shoulder as he murmured, “be right back.”

he slid out from the bed with a little wince, his legs shaky and muscles drained. you watched with a sleepy smile as he padded naked across the room, grabbing a small towel from the bathroom and returning a moment later.

“here,” he whispered, eyes soft as he knelt between your legs and cleaned you up. “i got you.”

your heart fluttered.

luigi had already crawled back into bed, arms stretched behind his head, eyes half-lidded and warm as he looked at you with a soft, post-bliss smile.

you sat up slowly, reaching for the bikini top that wads left at the edge of the bed. “i should probably head back to my room,” you murmured, voice gentle. “so you can rest comfortably…”

you didn’t even get to finish your sentence when his arm reached out fast, firm as his fingers curled gently around your wrist to stop you.

“what?” he asked, brown furrowed slightly as he tugged you back down towards him.

“baby no.”

you blinked as he guided you back into his arms, your body slotting effortlessly into the space next to his.

“i wanna rest here,” he whispered, lips brushing your shoulder.

“with you.”

your heart skipped a beat as he tugged the covers up, over both your naked bodies. he nuzzled into your chest, one arm round your waist, the other lazily cupping one of your tits.

“m’tired,” he murmured. “wouldn’t be smart of you to leave your patient alone away.”

your fingers threaded into his curls, your other one rubbing up and down his spine.

“how’s your back?” you asked softly.

“feels perfect,” he mumbled, voice already dying down. “because you’re here with me.”

within seconds, his breath evened out, warm against your skin. and you were left with a sleeping, heavy luigi tangled into your bare body, like his life depended on it.

[sativariddle]

the walking dead au where mattheo fingers the reader to apologize for shooting her, making her feel so good before she shoots him back 🙂

𖦏 m.list ╱𖦏 the walking dead au

⌗ ┆ word count: 2k+

⌗ ┆ content: mentions of guns + getting shot, fingering and mattheo being pathetic, yay. if you don’t enjoy my content, there’s no need for you to stick around, i’m not responsible for what you choose to engage with.

a/n: i love pilu so much, her and that fuck ass little smiley face that somehow makes everything she says feel awkward. enjoy, queen. read this if you haven’t already.

you were always stubborn, everyone knew that. even you admitted it sometimes, like it was just another one of your flaws you’d made peace with. but after the world fell apart, your stubbornness didn’t just survive. it evolved. when you said you wanted your gun back, it wasn’t a request. it was a line in the sand. you wouldn’t speak. you wouldn’t eat. you wouldn’t drink the medicine pansy kept trying to press into your hand. the painkillers sat untouched, the food left to gather dust. not until the weapon was back in your grip. not until you felt like you had control over something again.

“i’m done with her,” mattheo snarled, the clatter of the dented can hitting the wooden table beside pansy. “she’s fuckin’ irritating me.”

“just give her what she wants,” pansy said, reaching for the gun resting on the high counter. her fingers hovered over it for a moment before she picked it up, the metal heavy in her hand. “she needs to eat. she’s already lost too much blood.” the pain was clearly eating you alive, anyone could see it: your skin had taken on a grey tint. mattheo didn’t bother arguing this time. if getting your gun back was what it took to make you eat, then fine. whatever. he just wanted pansy off his damn back. he would’ve much rather been outside, hunting a squirrel or sitting in silence with a cigarette, but no. pansy had insisted that he be the one to keep an eye on you. make sure you didn’t bleed out or drop dead on the floor.

hadn’t he already done enough? he’d dug the bullet out of you with a knife that wasn’t nearly clean enough. he’d even stopped the bleeding, more or less. that should’ve been the end of it. but she had reminded him: he was also the one who nearly pulled the trigger in the first place. so yeah. maybe he owed you this much.

“here’s your shit,” mattheo muttered, stepping into the room. he dropped the rifle onto your lap carelessly, the cold metal landing against the blanket. a can of food clinked softly as he set it down on the crate beside your bed. “you got what you wanted. now eat.” your gaze dropped to the rifle, fingers brushing over the familiar shape, checking it instinctively: still yours, still intact.

that tiny pull at the corner of your mouth threatened to give you away, smug little smirk itching to break through, but you held it back. you liked when things went your way, when your stubbornness didn’t just hold the line, but bent the world around it. you’d played your part, waited it out, and now here it was. “i’m not hungry,” you said calmly, almost bored, as you set the rifle at the foot of the bed. mattheo let out a longgg, annoyed sigh, tilting his head back toward the ceiling. the gesture stretched his neck, drawing your eyes to the sharp line of his jaw, the shift of his adam’s apple as he swallowed back whatever curse word he wanted to throw your way. your thighs tensed at the sight. you looked away quickly, trying to smother the rush of thoughts that came, twirling in the corners of your mind. vicious, vicious thoughts. “not for food, anyway.”

that made mattheo look at you. those damn eyes: deep brown, like melted chocolate, met yours. it almost made you laugh. how could someone with eyes that stupidly beautiful, be the same blind asshole who’d pulled the trigger on you? “then what do you want?” he asked. a dangerous question: what do you want. as if the answer was simple. you bit the inside of your cheek, holding his gaze, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a quick reply. he was watching you now, waiting like whatever you said next might change something. you moved your hand slowly and patted the space beside you.

sit down. on the bed, your bed, closer. close enough to touch. mattheo looked confused, but he didn’t press further. he moved to sit at the edge of the bed on the right side. your eyes followed him, unable to look away. just his presence, so close, made your heart pound faster. it was insane how easily he affected you. you could practically feel the tension beneath your skin, being touch starved creeping up on you like a scream caught in your throat. fuck, you were dizzy with it. the want. the need.

“which hand?” you whisper. the questions blindsided mattheo. which hand? what did that even mean? “what—” he started. “—which hand pulled the trigger? which hand shot me?” mattheo stared, trying to piece together your meaning, he wanted to ask why. why you needed to know. but you weren’t joking. the look in your eyes told him you wanted an answer, not a deflection. “my right hand,” mattheo said, the words slipping out. the moment he did, you reached for it. so gently that your fingers barely felt real, a breeze brushing against skin rather than touch. you lifted his hand, bringing it close to your face. he held his breath without meaning to, unsure of what you were about to do, only certain of one thing. he didn’t want to pull away.

soon after came the ‘mmcht’ sound, almost shy kisses as your lips met his middle finger. then the pointer. the thumb. the back of his hand. and finally, the center of his palm. each kiss was faint. you began to unfold his fingers one by one. your touch guided them until only his pointer and middle finger remained raised. “i’m assuming this was the finger,” you said, wiggling his pointer with a cheeky smile, “the one that pulled the trigger?” you looked up at him through your lashes, and mattheo couldn’t speak. he just watched you, like your gaze had reached inside his chest and taken hold of his vocal cords. “yeah,” he let out. “you trust me?” your voice was sweet, dripping with an innocence that made it impossible to tell if it was intentional or just how you sounded when you were turned on. either way, it shot straight through him.

he didn’t trust you, he’d known you for all of three hours, and in his experience, that was far too short a time to trust anyone. and the fact that he’d shot you? that made it even worse. you could be playing some game, holding all kinds of cards up your sleeve. but when did he ever listen to the warning bells in his mind? when had he ever said no? so, despite every logical part of him screaming to not give in, he nodded. you reached out, grabbing mattheo's pointer finger, the very one that had pulled the trigger, wrapping it gently around your own finger. you slowly brought his hand under the covers, the fabric rustling softly as you dragged his fingertip down your chest, tracing along your sternum and stomach. the heat of your pussy against the very tip of his finger nearly made him jump, lust coursing through him. every cell in his body cried at him to push forward, to please, but he bit his lip hard, fighting the urge.

you parted your thighs even further under the covers, his eyes lowering with an almost trance like way. he was completely captivated, lost in the sight before him. his mind seemed to have shut off, fingers ready and willing to be used however you pleased.

you pushed mattheo's fingertip past your folds, a jolt of pleasure shooting through you as your tight walls clenched around the digit. a high pitched, breathy gasp passed your teeth as his finger stroked your inner deepness. you released his hand, giving him full control. mattheo immediately added another finger, spreading you wider. the wet sound of your eager pussy greeting his fingers filled the room: each stroke made you feel more desperate. you whimpered, hips rising to meet his thrusts. the two fingers moved in and out of you, each retreat pulling out with a loud, wet slurp before sliding back in. he hooked his fingers upwards, hitting that candy sweet spot inside you that made your eyes roll back so far, all mattheo could see was the white. accidentally, his thumb brushed against your throbbing clit, and you jumped, a muffled 'mmmph!' tearing from your throat. he had unintentionally hit both your sweet spots at once, sending pulses of pleasure through your insides.

tiny little stars began to form at the corners of your vision. the look on your face was so hypnotizing that he sped up his pace, fingers turning into a blur as they worked in and out of you. out and in. “sorry,” mattheo murmured, but his words were barely hearable over the wet sounds of your arousal. thighs clamped down on his wrist, holding him in place as his fingers continued their dance inside you. “about your arm,” he went on, “swear on my life, i had no idea you were human.”

“and now?” you breathed, gasping a bit as he picked up the pace. “still think i’m a walker?” of course he didn’t anymore, but you were just talking nonsense; he was making you feel so good, you didn’t care about making sense. “definitely not. they don’t sound this desperate just from my fingers,” he muttered, a smirk playing on his lips. you were sooo touch starved, strung out from stress, and now you had one of the finest men you’d seen in forever hand buried between your thighs, working his fingers like he knew your body better than you did. the thought alone had your spine arching off the bed, a gasp slipping past your lips as he curled his fingers just right.

“ugh—shit… shut the fuck up,” were the last words that left your lips before everything inside you tightened, heat coiling in your core. it washed through you, a wave so heavenly it stole your breath, and then you were coming, release spilling out of you and soaking the sheets beneath. the covers may have hidden the evidence, but the warmth on mttheo’s fingers gave everything away.

he slowly pulled his hand back, glancing at the mess before letting out a low chuckle under his breath. “using the same fingers that shot you to get yourself off?” he exhaled, almost in disbelief. you were insane. “very hot of you.” you rolled your eyes, letting your back collapse against the bed once more. your chest rose and fell heavily as you tried to catch your breath, the orgasm still pulsing through your veins. you knew you couldn’t just lay there forever, not with the mess you’d made. if someone walked in right now, you’d both be screwed in more ways than one. you began to push yourself up, body sensitive. as you leaned forward, mattheo’s eyes found yours, he watched you come closer, and for a moment, he seemed to forget everything else. to him, it looked like you were about to kiss him.

his lips parted slightly, and he leaned in without hesitation, closing his eyes. but the kiss never came. “SHIT!” his voice cracked through the room like a shot, eyes flying open as the pain in his leg hit him all at once. his hand shot down instinctively to his thigh, where the pain instantly turned severe. you had shot him. neat, and completely intentional. he looked at you with disbelieving eyes, mouth opening and closing like he couldn’t quite figure out which words to throw at you first.

“we’re even now,” you told sweetly, and leaned in again, not to shoot this time, but to plant a kiss gently on his cheek. you set your rifle down and reached for the can of food sitting nearby, popping the lid and grabbing the plastic spoon. scooping up a chunk of mushy vegetables, you popped it into your mouth with a hum of satisfaction, chewing slowly as if what was in front of you didn’t include a guy cursing you out while clutching a fresh bullet wound. mattheo’s jaw clenched. “oh, so now you’re fuckin’ hungry?”

[flippinpancakes64]

i would like The Cullens with an Insomniac! Reader who keeps getting more overworked and can’t sleep due to it, and I would wonder how would they react when the reader gets even more work.

The Cullens with an Overworked! Reader

I am so sorry again for the delay everyone. It’s been a big change for me moving into the dorms and whatnot. I have another story that I’m currently working on too but it’s taking a while so I’m writing this one too.

Thank you for requesting and I hope you enjoy!

Edward:

You call him a hypocrite

He’s always so worried about you overworking yourself

But he can’t acknowledge that he does the same thing

His argument is that he doesn’t need rest

But you do

He does his best to force you to relax

He picks up some of your homework, cleans your house for you, forces you to go to bed

But even he can’t stop exam season

When your teachers start giving you more stuff to do every day he honestly gets pissed

But he keeps himself cool

He just picks it up for you

Basically he doesn’t let you overwork yourself

Go to bed

He’s got this

Alice:

She just sort of takes your work

Like you could be working on your fifth work page of math for the night and she just… snatches it

It’s not that she doesn’t take no for an answer

She just straight up doesn’t ask

She’s worried about you

And she tells you all the time

Harps on you pretty often to go to bed

And she is not above sneaking melatonin into your food

She’s done it before

She will do it again

And if you ever even think about taking on more work, she shuts that down instantly

If you picked up an extra project at school or joined another club she is pissed

Like you do not have time for this

If you insist on doing whatever you were doing, she will help

She wants you to be happy more than anything else

Jasper:

He’s the most unfair probably

He doesn’t even try to argue with you about it

He just uses his ability to make you calm and sleepy

Boom problem solved

As for workload

He just does it

Like he takes your work and he does it for you

Does not let you take on more stuff

Like before you can go ask the teacher for more stuff or volunteer he stops you

And if your teachers start dumping more, he just does more of your work

He’s in problem solving mode

Rosalie:

She’s a little pissed off tbh

She would love to be able to go to sleep

And the fact that you’re not doing that frustrates her

Also the fact that you seem to refuse to take care of yourself

You’re pushing yourself in ways that she would

And she’s inhuman

She literally shreds your homework

And then she tells the teacher to back off

Problem solved

And you can’t even think about doing more because she shuts that down just as quick

She wants you to be happy and healthy and sleep well

Emmett:

He doesn’t really understand the thought process behind it

All he knows is that you’re not cuddling with him at night because you’re at your desk

And he won’t stand for it

Is not afraid to drag you away from your work

And if you try to argue he just hits you with the sad eyes

Again, if you get more work, he’s just confused

Like you’re already pulling all nighters, how the hell are you gonna make more time for more shit????

He just does the same thing

He pulls your ass away and back to bed

Esme:

She’s so concerned

She asks Carlisle about what to do for you all the time

I mean, it’s been years since she’s felt the stress of work

So she doesn’t really get it

All she knows is that your eye bags are getting bigger by the day and she can’t stand it

She does her best to kindly encourage you to go to sleep

But when that doesn’t work she just tries her best to help you where you’re at

Doing some of your work for you

Bringing you food to your desk

Maybe making a couple of heated phone calls to your boss

Carlisle:

Probably the best one for this

But then again he is just the best 💙

Anyways

He’s a problem solver

He works with you on how to reformulate your schedule to make it less stressful for you

And he’s of course has all of the medicine you could ever need to go to sleep

He’ll never do anything you don’t want tho

If you don’t want him to talk to your bosses or do your work for you he won’t

He’ll just be there to cuddle with when you do eventually decide to sleep

Vampire! Bella:

She remembers the feeling all too well

Before she moved to Forks and stopped caring about schoolwork she used to be a chronic overworker

All nighters, energy drinks, the whole deal

So she recognizes the signs pretty early

And she doesn’t do too much

She tells you when you should go to bed, but other than that she lets you do you

If you ask her for help with your work she’s more than happy to help

But if you’re the one who signed up for way too many classes, then it’s your job to do them

She’ll just be there later when you want to complain

[tayraedoll]

Old Man

Part 2 Part 3

You keep teasing Alastor due to his age, he is about to show you how his age just makes him more experienced.

TW: Swearing, drinking, vomit, blackouts, suggestive themes, old-fashioned chivalry, drunk kissing

No smut, but is very suggestive at the end.

You slam the door to the hotel angrily behind you, causing the door to shutter in a way that would have worried you about breaking it if you had it in you to give a fuck.

"Fucking prick...who the hell does he think he is?!", you mutter under your breath

You run your hand through your chestnut hair. Your demon form was that of a fallow deer, your hair turned a reddish brown color with ears to match on your head. You had little white spots adorning your cheeks, shoulders, and back. The last of your demonic changes would be your luscious deer tail- the same color as your hair with the spots peppered over it- so full that you needed to get all your clothes altered for it.

You make your way over to the bar- where you a hoping the man who instigated your wrath sits- stomping your feed unnecessarily hard on the wood flooring. Just as you were hoping for, the man you most wanted to pick-a-bone with sat in his usual spot.

"Angel!"

"Toots? Back from y'er date already huh?"

"You are sooooo not allowed to set me up on anymore dates! That guy was an absolute menace!", you slump into the seat next to his with an exaggerated sigh. Husk promptly placed your favorite drink in front of you. You smiled and lifted your glass to him in thanks.

"Jeez, 'm sorry toots. I gotta ask- what'd Mikey do that pissed ya off so bad?"

You took a deep breath and closed your eyes, trying not to picture your atrocious dinner date. "He ordered my dinner for me.", you spat as if it was the most egregious wrong ever done to you.

Angel and Husk stared at you with unreadable expressions, glancing at each other before quickly diverting their eyes back to you.

Maniacal laughter suddenly rang out from the other side of the bar- Alastor. You had not even noticed him when you first came in- if he had been there at all. You had a decent relationship with The Radio Demon, you mostly interacted at dinner but had the occasional chat in the library. He seemed to get along better with you than he did most of the other residents-save for Nifty and Charlie- you assumed that was due to being a deer like he was. Herd mentality and all you supposed. Now though, his laughter was grating on your already taut nerves. "Something funny you coot?" Angel's and Husk's eyes widened at your jab- no one had the balls to insult Alastor right to his face like that.

"Yes, very much so Darling. Did it ever cross your mind that perhaps he was just being polite? Ordering a ladies meal used to be the chivalrous thing to do.", he smiled wider at you as you narrowed your eyes at him.

"OK boomer, was it also 'chivalrous'(you used air quotes with your finger) to order her a salad instead of the wings and fries she wanted? The next man who has the audacity to order my food for me will become my meal instead!" You huffed and downed the rest of your drink, glaring over at your fellow deer.

He chuckled smoothly but relented his argument "No, I suppose you are right- that was not the proper way to go about it." You gave him a cocky smile before he continued "However, I must say that you...younger generation of ladies... give up so quickly. Running at the very first small inconvenience." He folded his hands and rested his chin on them, eyeing you mischievously.

"Well, SOOOORRRYY for having standards. Us younger generation ladies are not impressed by minimal effort and do not abide by the misogynist tendencies you old geezers put out", you laced your voice with as much venom as you could. "Mikey can take his Terry Crews in White Chicks vibes and fuck right off!"

Alastor eyed you thoughtfully,"Would you care to join me for a night out on the town my dear? Perhaps having a bit of fun will lighten your mood."

Now it was your turn to laugh,"Sorry gramps, but I fail to see how chaperoning you for your daily nightcap will lift my spirits."

"Hmmm, I suppose I will just need to show you how The Lost Generation cuts loose. Get dressed in something you can move in Darling." He was challenging you, you could see it in that smug grin on his face. Who were you to not indulge the old man?

"Give me 15 minutes.", you smirked at him and raced upstairs to your room. You have been saving a lacy, black party dress for a special occasion, now seemed like the perfect time to break it out of your closet. You would pair it with a pair of blood red pumps for a pop of color, wearing lipstick of the same shade to bring it all together.

You swagger down the stairs to meet up with Alastor at the front door. His smile widens ever so slightly as his eyes apprise you. "You look lovely Sha.", he says sweetly as he takes your hand in his, kissing your knuckles tenderly. "Shall we?" He tucks your arm through his and guides you out the door.

You walk in silence for a time, Alastor humming softly to himself. You finally speak up "So, what old saloon are you taking me to?", you smile coyly up at him hoping to ruffle his feathers a bit.

"We are headed to my favorite jazz club Little Fawn", he snickers at your scowl. You hated when he called you that, it was because of your spots. But you were just a different breed of dear- you weren't a fawn! The nickname made you feel like a child. You spent the rest of the walk in silence again- Alastor resumed his humming while you pouted.

The outside of the club was inconspicuous, an old building made of brick and wood with no windows. Just a large, metal door at the center. Upon your arrival a small eyelet slid over to inspect you two, The eyes on the other side widened upon seeing Alastor and hastily opened the door. Once inside, you walked down a short hallway and through another metal door.

The inside of the club was a vast contrast to what the outside was like. It was lively, bodies dancing every which direction and a live band played passionately on stage on the far side. The room was decorated in vibrant reds and golds. A long, wooden bar sat to your left. You could smell the tang of bourbon and puffs of smoke, getting a hint of sweat from all the bodies swinging around on the dance floor.

"Shall I order you a drink? Or would you prefer to do that yourself? I wouldn't want to insult you.", Alastor chortled as he walked you over to the bar. You rolled your eyes at him "What are you drinking?" He raised a brow at you. "I am drinking rye whiskey. I am not sure if that will be to your tastes Fawn."

"Hey, I'm sure I can handle anything you dish out Flapdoodle. I bet I can go drink for drink with you even.", you challenged. Maybe you could wipe that ever-present smirk off his smug face if you could get the old man to pass out. You could handle a couple of whiskey drinks.

Alastor hummed as he regarded you, "Very well, if you insist!", he turned to the bartender "Double rye on the rocks please!" You blanched, double? You were not expecting to be drinking doubles, but if Alastor could handle them then you had a good chance right? You took a sip of your drink, it tasted of spice and dark chocolate and had a pleasant burn on its way down your throat. You were sure if you sipped it you would be fine.

However, Alastor had other plans as he swallowed the entire contents of his drink in one go. Your mouth fell open in shock as you stared at him. Fuck, this isn't going the way you planned. Timidly, you brought your own drink to your lips and swallowed the rest of it, shuddering at the burn. Alastor watched you all the while, and promptly ordered two more drinks. This drink was sipped, but was still drank much faster than you planned.

After a while you started to feel the effects of the alcohol, your body relaxing. You started to sway to the music, a soft smile gracing your lips. "Would you do me the honor of joining me on the dance floor my dear?", Alastor asked as he took your hand, leading you out to the middle of the dancing crowd.

He placed your left hand on his shoulder, keeping your other hand held in his. His free hand held you closely by the waist and he began to swing you around to the beat. You stumbled along, if he weren't holding you so securely you would have ended up on the floor and the alcohol was not doing you any favors. "Oh dear, you a very bad at this!", he teased you. You glared back up at him "Well maybe if you would slow down instead of throwing me around like a lunatic I would be better!", you snapped. He chuckled, but slowed down enough that you could keep up and learn the dance. But once you seemed to get your bearings he sped up again.

This continued all night- the song would change and he would slow down so you could learn the new dance but speed up once you got it. All the while, the only thing you had to drink was whiskey. It did not take long for you to be truly drunk, your vision starting to spin and your movements becoming clumsy. Your legs were killing you, you had definitely worn the wrong shoes for this activity.

"Please excuse me for a second.", you smiled up at Alastor and walked off the dance floor. You exited out a back door you saw people use to take smoke breaks to get some fresh air. You leaned back against the wall, closing your eyes to help concentrate on breathing evenly. You heard the door open beside you but chose to ignore it until you felt a hand on your cheek. You opened your eyes to see Alastor standing over you, his eyes carefully scanning your face. "You truly are as beautiful as a magnolia in May.", he stated before slowly lowering his face to yours.

You gasped into the kiss, losing all train of thought. Weren't you supposed to be rivals? The new vs. the old? In this moment, you no longer cared. He continued holding your face as you grabbed the lapels of his jacket as the kiss continued, it was making you dizzy.

Oh no, you are not just dizzy from the kiss- the alcohol is making it worse. Your stomach started to twist uncomfortably and you had to roughly push Alastor away from you before you turned to the wall and puked your guts up all over yourself. When you were done you stumbled back, vision quickly fading. The last thing you remember before succumbing to complete darkness is a pair of strong arms catching you and the warmth of a chest cradling you.

You reached consciousness slowly, your senses coming to you one-by-one. Unfortunately, the first thing you registered was extreme thirst followed quickly by a pounding headache. You let out a loud groan, turning over in your bed "Fuck" you grumbled out.

A soft chuckle followed by an all-too-chipper "Good morning!" caught your attention. You glared at Alastor over in a chair before mumbling "I am not in the mood for your bullshit this morning.", burying your face in the pillow.

It took you an embarrassing few seconds to register that he was actually in the room with you and was not just a figment of your imagination sent to torture you. You shot up in the bed, making your head spin again. "What are you doing in my...", you trailed off as you took in your surroundings. You were not in your room. The bed you were in was large, with maroon-colored silk sheets. The room had crimson-colored walls with a grand fireplace, in front of which Alastor sat reading the paper. Behind him, the room gave way to a magnificent forest and swamp that made your breath hitch. You were obviously in Alastor's room.

"Al...what am I doing in your room?", you asked as you slowly looked back over at him, heart ready to beat out of your chest in fear of his answer.

"I did not feel comfortable leaving you alone in your room. You were incredibly drunk, I did not want you to asphyxiate if you were to become ill again. So I brought you here where I could keep an eye on you.", he explained calmly, watching your reaction. Your face burned with shame. You had set out to get The Radio Demon to make a fool of himself, but you had become the fool yourself. You turned away, not wanting to see the amusement that surely danced plainly on his face. When you glanced down you frowned.

"How am I wearing my pajamas?", you asked- the accusation plain to hear in your voice. When you glanced back up, Alastor had walked over to stand at the foot of the bed. "Well, I was not about to let your spew into my bed. So I sent my shadows to your room to retrieve your sleepwear.", he explained matter-of-factly.

"Did they change me too or...?"

"No, I did that.", before you could get upset at that revelation he snapped his fingers and you were suddenly wearing socks. You breathed a sigh of relief, you did not think Alastor would violate your privacy like that but it was nice to have the verification. As you sat there thinking, memories of the night before slowly trickled back into your mind. Alastor had kissed you! But why?

Before you could ask any of the million questions running through your mind he sat at the end of the bed. "Sha, I would like to have a rather important discussion with you if you feel up to it." You nodded and waited for him to continue. "Would you be open to me courting you?"

You stared at him dumbstruck "Huh?" was all you could muster out. Was this really happening? Did Alastor just ask to date you?

"I have been admiring you from afar for some time now. I must admit I am rather taken by you. I enjoy our back-and-forth banter and admire your wit. You are such a strong-minded woman, and are not afraid to speak exactly what you are thinking. I would like the opportunity to explore our relationship a bit further if you assent."

Your jaw hit the floor, you had no idea how to respond. Alastor admired you? He wanted to have a more formal relationship? None of this was making sense to you at the moment but your heart was soaring. You had been hiding your attraction to the demon behind your crude jokes about his age. You'd be lying if you said you would not want to get to know him better as well.

"It is rude to stare Dear.", Alastor grinned at you. You had not stopped gaping at him while you processed your thoughts. "Y-Yes, I would be open to that." You shyly smiled back at him.

"One more thing, how much about your biology do you know?", he asked as he shifted closer to you, closing the distance between you two. "What do you mean?"

"Well, in just a few months the cervid mating season will be upon us.", he explained slowly. You crinkled your brows in confusion. "You arrived in hell very shortly after the last mating season. I was not sure how much about your deer form you had learned. If you find our courting satisfactory...I would very much like to claim you this season." He stared at you intently, searching your eyes for your reaction. He was leaning so far into your space that only a few inches separated you. His want was practically palpable.

Your mind went blank again, at a complete loss for words for the moment. This man was just full of surprises. You felt a myriad of emotions- excitement, fear, anticipation, nervousness. But you wanted it, so badly that it shocked you. But, you did not want him to get any more satisfaction at your expense today. So you smirked, "Only if you can keep up you old geezer."

With that you went to get up and dramatically walk out of the room to leave him with his thoughts. But instead you felt your calf muscles strain and knees buckle underneath you. Your legs were so cramped up, damn shoes! Alastor laughed heartily at you as you flushed tomato red. "You are not quite as limber as you ought to be for your age My Doe. Your endurance could use a bit of work.", he tutted at you helping you to your feet. You stretched your sore legs out a bit until you could at least shuffle around.

Before you could turn away Alastor grabbed your wrist and pulled you into him. "A final tidbit of information- did you know that deer can mate consecutively for 72 hours?", he watched as your eyes widened to saucers, leaning in until his lips just barely caressed the fluff of your ears. "If I were you Ma Petite Biche (My Little Doe), I'd begin stretching."

[madridfangirl]

So near, yet so far

(Jude bellingham blurb. Some fighting, some fluff, some missing each other.)

‘Stop being a baby & pick up the phone.’

Jude searched for his phone blindly when it pinged, while lying face down on a pillow, saw the message from his girlfriend, then put the phone away on the side-table.

She had sent that message after four missed calls throughout. He knew she had seen him online and would have understood that he was avoiding her on purpose.

Good, he wanted her to realise that. After everything she put him through.

The phone rang again, disturbing his sulky mood. He didn’t even look up this time.

‘Fine. Remember this the next time I don’t pick up your call.’

In this department, Jude could dish it out but absolutely could not take it himself. He always went nuts when she even remotely avoided him, following her around like a lost puppy. In fact, their whole fight had started from this.

Ananya was having a super tough day at work yeaterday. She was roped in on a deal last minute and the Managing Directors of their team had to pitch next afternoon. Which meant it was all hands on deck for the whole team. All day and most of that night.

That same day, Jude had a fantastic session at training, scoring bangers for fun, nutmegging teammates like child’s play. Especially Cama - he’d never let the boy live it down. For all his snake like agility, Jude had still managed to nutmeg that silky smooth footballer. And had even secured the video of it, which he had immediately sent to Ananya, along with a few others with his shooting.

Later, Carlo had called him to the side and praised him for his sharpness. He even invited him to accompany Carlo for the next pre-match press conference. It was a big Champions league away night, which meant it was a high-profile presser that Jude was being entrusted with.

It had been a great day overall. Plus he was having a great hair day as well, & took a couple of selfies in the gym (shirtless, sweaty, just what she liked) which had immediately made their way to her inbox as well.

She was supposed to get off work sooner today, given her MDs were due to travel the next day. He had no idea the pitch had to completely be overhauled at the last minute and that she was dying at work while he was having a gala time.

When he didn’t get any response even when he got home in the afternoon, he started to wonder if something was off. If he had missed some important day or did something or said something he wasn’t supposed to. But he couldn’t think of any such thing.

‘Hey, just checking in, all good?’

One hour went by. No response. 

‘I’m home, what time will you get here? Italian is good tonight?’

This was a harmless enough message, or so he thought. 

‘Talk later.’

That was all she had time & energy to type back.

Food was the last thing on her mind when she saw his message. She was surviving on two apples and 5 cups of coffee all day and would probably have to pull an all-nighter by the looks of it, on a day when she was supposed to get done by 6 pm. An anomaly. A massive anomaly in her line of work. But Satan was intent on ruining her happiness. 

Her team was cooped up in the conference room while her MD was on a zoom call from his mansion on the outskirts of the city, spelling out 1000 changes to the formatting while sipping a glass of red wine. 

One day, she’ll get there too. But till then, she had no choice but to slog her ass off. Like the rest of her team.

In the middle of that, her phone kept buzzing. She just put it on silent and threw it in her bag. Her plans for the evening all but forgotten. 

It was 6:30 pm already, and Jude figured she would have left by now. So he made the cardinal sin of calling her, twice. 

‘Are you ok?’

Still no response. 

‘Are you mad at me?’

He started to get worried now. And called Roma. Who was also in the room with Ananya, as frazzled as her friend, as knee deep in work as the rest of them. 

Her phone was on silent too. The executive director absolutely hated any sounds when they were all cooped up together like this.

30 mins later, they finally got up for a pee break, first in over 5 hours. Ananya and Roma rushed to the loo with their bags, looking at their phones at the same time.

5 missed calls, 15 messages between the two of them. All from Jude.

Ananya was furious. She was actually hangry, which made her even more irritated with this. Even her family knew not to bother her when she was having a tough day at work, just one message was enough for them to know she’d be out of reach for a while. Jude knew that too, but still had bombarded the both of them. And what in god’s name was he doing calling Roma? It just made her look stupid in front of her friend. She didn’t like people calling her friends to check in on her, a pet peeve since childhood.

But this boy just didn’t understand.

The said boy happened to call again just then.

‘Yes?’

‘Oh hey - finally. Where were you?’

‘On Mars.’

‘Huh?’

‘Where do you think I could be, Jude? Obviously I’m working.’

‘But, I thought you were getting free early today.’

‘Yeah, not happening.’

‘When you will get done?’

‘No idea. Not anytime soon.’

‘But…we had the whole evening planned, food is also on its way.’

‘Let me go say that to my MD and maybe he’ll let me go’

The crankiness and sarcasm in her voice was increasing with every passing second. And Jude couldn’t help but wonder if it was anything more than work that was causing that.

‘Ok gotta go. Talk to you tomorrow?’

Wait what? So she was seriously not coming home all night?

‘We are travelling for the match tomorrow.’

‘After than then.’

‘International break. This was the last night before I’m on the road for 12 days.’

‘After that then.’

Her voice was curt and her attention was elsewhere, like she was barely even listening to him anymore.

‘Are we good? You’re not mad at me for something?’

‘Oh for the love of god not everything is about you. I’m dying here. DYING. You’re not important right now. I told you I was busy, so pls try to understand.’

Jude was silent. She hadn’t said she was busy. She just said talk later. How was he supposed to decipher this is what she meant? How could she be cross with him for this?

‘Bye now. See you when I see you next.’

‘Bye.’

He stared at his phone long after, and at the screen where a game of FIFA was loaded, waiting for her. The food was on it way too, which he called to cancel immediately.

It was next evening. He was in the team hotel after a long flight. But still, 24 hours later also he was in a pissy mood. 

Ananya had worked all night, came back in the morning, slept for a few hours and was back in office now, on standby while the MD meeting was going on in London.

She finally got some time to focus on her irritated boyfriend, who she was trying to reach for the last 2 hours, and finally sent this message to get his attention.

Silent treatment was beyond his coping ability, they both knew that perfectly well.

‘Sure - be more mean to make up for being mean earlier.’

‘I wasn’t mean to you. I was just busy.’

‘Yeah right.’

‘Jude - I didn’t sleep all night. Didn’t have a proper meal in 24 hours. So of course I was on edge.’

‘You said I wasn’t important to you.’

‘Not important in that moment.’

‘Same thing.’

‘Big difference.’

‘Even after everything you’re still talking to me like this.’

‘How else should I talk?’

‘Like you want to make it up to me?’

‘Make it up to you?’

‘Yes. Massively.’

‘I should make it up to you coz my work is sucking the living life out of me right now? Sure, that makes sense.’

‘You forgot yesterday was the last day we had together in almost 2 weeks.’

‘It was not in my control. What could I have done?’

‘Could have felt bad for not being with me? Like I was feeling bad? Five seconds for that was too much to ask for?’

That made her take a pause. She was still learning to cope with the mad pressure that came on sprints like these, and didn’t always react in the most even-tempered way. Could she have taken a minute to talk to him softly and explain the situation? Possibly yes. But she was still leaning the ropes and all the first-year associates were as frazzled as her. Heck she only had 1 minute for a pee break, which is when she spoke to him. Why couldn’t he understand that pressure, when she understood his work pressures and how the weight of the whole world was on his shoulders at times?

‘You needed to be here to understand what it was like.’

‘Darling - I know what professional stress is.’

‘It’s different for you.’

‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

‘You are Jude fucking Bellingham.’

‘And don’t you think that means 100x pressure?’

‘No. Because you’re not some first year associate who is expected to work 16 hours a day, 6 days a week with near-perfect output.’

She could hear him breathing heavily at the other end. But he didn’t say anything, neither did she.

This was one of those moments where their crazy schedules got to them. As did the high-pressure of their jobs. For no particular fault of either of them. They were both fiercely ambitious, and driven in their careers. Which meant personal life suffered at times.

Ananya always wondered till what point would this be sustainable. If he’d turn around one fine day and would want more from her. That more was not in her control to give. Unless she sacrifices her dreams.

‘We’re going in circles.’

He broke the eerie silence. Another thing he wasn’t too fond of. Awkward pauses made him uncomfortable.

‘Yes we are.’

‘Did you manage to get some rest?’

‘Slept for a few hours. You?’

Jude was a sound sleeper otherwise but for the life of him could not sleep on a plane well. 

‘A little bit.’

‘Match is day after right? You should get some rest.’

‘Yeah, will crash soon.’

He didn’t want to sleep before talking to her. But he absolutely didn’t want to be the one making the call.

‘The presser was nice.’

‘Hmmm.’

‘Could have smiled a bit more. Your fan pages were waiting for classic Jude happy face.’

‘Nothing to smile about in my life.’

‘Stop being dramatic.’

‘Stop being mean. And stop being so far away.’

The sincerity & longing in his voice melted her on the spot.

‘Babyyy.’

He immediately felt lighter.

‘What I wouldn’t give to hold you right now.’

Sleeping without her being next to him just wasn’t the same anymore. He slept better now when she was in his arms.

‘Me too sweetheart, me too.’

She could use a Jude hug too. Desperately. And a nice, long, peaceful sleep. But no relationship was perfect, this was something they just had to deal with.

‘Say something nice.’

‘I love you my dashing boy.’

‘More.’

‘So cute. So sweet. So sexy.’

‘More.’

‘One of the best players in the world.’

‘One of the best?’

‘Yes. The best midfielder though.’

Jude didn’t push further, knowing this was the best he’d get. She wouldn’t lie when it came to football. Not even to him or for him. This was enough for now.

‘Missing you.’

‘Me too, babu.’

Jude loved it when she used this particular Hindi word of endearment for him, which was the equivalent of baby. She often used many such words when they were snuggled together & she was cooing to him, explaining the meaning of each of them. He understood quite a few by now.

‘I can’t sleep. What do I do?’

‘Keep talking to me. And hug a pillow.’

‘Way ahead of you.’

They both hugged pillows while sleeping now, when they were not next to each other.

‘Now tell me about yesterday.’

Excitement seeped back into his drowsy voice, but the exhaustion was evident. Midway through, he started slurring some words and a few minutes later he was almost asleep, while still mumbling things to her.

‘Honey, put the phone down, turn off the light & get some rest, yeah?’

‘Yeah, ok.’

He mumbled, already near crashing.

‘Sweet dreams.’

‘Mmmm will dream of you, beautiful.’

With that, the phone dropped from his hand, while the lights were still on and the TV was on mute. But it didn’t matter. He got what he needed, so did she.

...........................................................

Wanted to do a realistic comfort fic, for all the madness happening around us.

Hope you liked it! Wrote this in 2 hours so not edited properly.

[carlsangel]

VIRGINITY (PART TWO)

carl grimes x fem!reader

(you and carl get some alone time.)

tags: p in v sex, unprotected sex (don’t recommend yall)

masterlist here!

read part one here!

The day you lost your virginity, everything seemed so…weird. Rick and Michonne had planned to go on a run for a couple of days and the two of you were left with Judith. You’d both asked for advice from Glenn and Maggie and while you got some pretty good advice, Carl got an awkward conversation and a condom.

This was your chance. That morning, you and Carl woke up early to say goodbye to them. “The two of you are gonna be here with Judith, okay? I have Daryl sort of keepin an eye on you so behave.” Rick tells you, packing some cans of food from the pantry into his bag. You look to Carl with sort of an annoyed look. He returns the same.

“Understand?” You both turn to Rick and nod. “Yeah we got it.” Carl replies. Now you had to figure out a way to get Daryl off your back as well. “I trust ‘em.” Michonne approaches from behind you, putting her hand on your shoulder while giving you a smile. You smile at her back, knowing you’re kinda lying to her. But you’re a horny teenager. You gotta do what you gotta do.

“Well…I’m sure they appreciate that. We gotta go.” Rick tells Michonne, zipping up his bag and throwing it over his shoulder. He makes his way through the house, the rest of you following after. You give them their hugs and say goodbye. Once the door slams shut, Judith starts crying. Screaming at the top of her fucking lungs.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me.” You hold your head in your hands, unprepared for the headache about to overtake your brain. “Hey, don’t be stressed. We can use this to our advantage.” Carl smiles and picks up Judith as she sobbed, also grabbing a couple toys before walking out the front door. You watch him walk all the way over to the armory to hand her off to Olivia.

When he disappeared into the faraway house, you turned around to find something to do. When you do turn around, you’re met with Daryl. “Jesus what the fuck!” You practically jump back, Daryl just looks at you like you’re crazy. “Don’t do that, holy shit- where did you come from!?” You put your hand over your heart and try your best to catch your breath. “The back door.” He just stares at you till you’re done. You finally catch your breath.

“Do I seriously need to watch over the two of ya or can I go work on my bike?” He asks, you sort of hesitate for some odd reason, you felt bad for lying. “We’ll be fine. Probably gonna make some soup or something and I might go to the range later. I dunno what he’ll do, probably clean his gun.” You shock yourself with how elaborate that lie was. He nods. “Okay. I’ll see ya.” He made his way out the front door.

─── ⋆⋅ ꩜ ⋅⋆ ───

A little later, Carl came back and met with you in your guys’ room where you were changing. He closed the door behind him and you turn around to smile at him, your shirt sliding off your arms. “Whatcha doing?” You ask with an endearing smile. He walks a bit closer. “Looking at you.” You giggle at his response. “You mean watching me change? That’s a bit perverted don’t you think?” You rummage through your closet for another shirt.

“I don’t think so.” He slowly comes up behind you, sliding his hands over your waist. He lodges his face into the crook of your neck where begins to plant harsh kisses. “Stop looking.” He tells you, lowering your arms from the clothes you had in your hand. You turn to face him and he smiles once you do. “You’re so pretty.” He puts his hand up to hold your cheek while he pulls you in for another kiss. This one was soft, the kind of kiss that really meant something. A feeling in your stomach told you things would only get better from here.

The kisses continue, only getting more intense and eventually his tongue slips into your mouth. You let out a small moan and you can feel him smile at that as he kissed you even more. You feel him pull you a little and you follow, your mouths still intertwined. He quickly spins you and plops you on the bed. He seemed confident on the outside, little did you know he was extremely nervous. You sit back with your arms propping you up and he leans in to kiss you again, his hands going straight to the buttons of your jeans. It’s quickly unbuttoned and he starts to tug them off you, standing to discard his own shirt as well.

Looking at him like this drives you insane. His messy hair, swollen lips, and the very obvious boner confined by his jeans. You were both scared and excited. Carl on the other hand was just really fucking horny. He got on the bed above you, one of his knees between your legs rutting against your clothed cunt. You let out yet another small moan and this prompts him to pull away and reach around to your back to unfasten your bra. Or try at least.

He was new to this, you can’t blame him. He fiddles with the clasp in a frustrated manner. “I just wanna see you.” He frowns, upset at himself for not being able to successfully take your bra off. You look at him with a sly smile. He shuts his eyes and rests his forehead on yours, his hand freezing in place as he accepted defeat. “Could you help me please?” He has a defeated tone and you laugh, undoing the clasp of your bra, letting it slide down your arms. While you did so, he worked on undressing you completely and then you waited for him to undress himself.

You’d palmed him once, you knew he wasn’t small but christ. Now you were definitely nervous. He smiled at you, basking in your beauty before leaning down to kiss a trail all the way from your stomach, up to your chest, to your neck. He was so unbelievably happy. He leaned back up to kiss you some more, his hand wandering down to your thigh, pulling it up. Your other thigh moves up instinctively and he pulls away to look down to actually do this.

He holds your legs at the back of your knees while guides himself to where he believes is the right spot. Glenn was a fucking liar. He has no idea what he’s doing. Maggie was right. Jesus this was so awkward. “Um…i-is this right or-” He stutters hoping you’d know how to guide him. You did, you helped him but not without accidentally sliding his tip against your clit, extracting a sharp moan from the both of you. Once he found your hole, he looked at you before slowly pushing into you.

Your mouth drops slightly at the feeling, his eyebrows furrow in pleasure. “This okay?” He asked quietly, stopping to hear your response. “Mhm s’fine just keep going slow.” He nodded and kept pushing, eventually bottoming out. He was breathing heavily, and you were too but he seemed to be on another planet. “A-are you okay?” You sort of giggle. His eyes are shut and he nods. “Just really tight that’s all.” He says breathlessly, gripping your thighs like he was never gonna let go. “Mkay. you can start moving if-if you’re ready.”

Well he’s been ready. He begins to slowly stroke in and out of you, he opens his eyes and leans down to kiss you. You moan into his mouth and you wrap your arms around him. He props himself up to hover over you, still pressing his length into your now, sopping heat. He leans his head back into your neck, moaning against your skin while you leave indents on his back from your nails. “You’re so good, so warm n wet. l-love you s-so much. Please.” He rambled, not even sure why he was saying please.

You could only moan in response, muttering a small “I love you too”back. He started to thrust a bit faster, his pace only increasing. It got to the point where you couldn’t even speak. You could tell he was close to cumming, you were too. Everything felt so good, his affection was only making it ten times better. He was so sweet with you, he really wanted you to feel good and not just him. You were glad he was the one taking your virginity.

“Carl-f-fuck I’m gonna cum.” You tell him, your nails digging into his skin deeper than before which causes him to groan. “Mhm me too.” His voice sounds somewhat strained. You clench around him before cumming all over his cock, him following soon after. He bottoms out inside of you one last time, hitting your g-spot perfectly, causing you to both moan loudly.

He smiles satisfactorily, pulling you into his embrace while he breathes heavily. “You’re so perfect.” He presses a kiss to your jaw and smiles against your skin. “You are. I feel so good.” You say basically astounded, reaching your hand up to rest in his hair. You spend a moment, just breathing and enjoying the afterglow.

Suddenly, Carl pulls away from your neck, and looks up as if he had heard something. You eyebrows knit together in confusion.

“What is it?”

“We forgot the condom.”

a/n: ok cuz i’m scared and nervous to post this but imma do it anyway THIS WAS MY FIRST TIME WRITING SMUT i hope it’s okayyy i feel like it was so sped up and im mad about it but let’s ignore that 0-0 hope you like ittttttttttt (im so scared right now you shut up)

ppl to tag: @zomb-1-egutzz

(sorry if u didn’t wanna be tagged for this LMAO)