#(p sure it's the insomnia)

[mcrololo]

I love you nose spray. I love you tea with honey. I love you throat lozenge. I love you paracetamol. I love you vicks vaporub. I love you cough syrup. I love you and thank you for keeping the devil at bay 🥰😘❤️

[lesenbyan]

Me: maybe I don't have OSDD. Maybe I'm just faking. I can't hear any voices but my own and no one else takes full executive control and intermittent OCD might just mean I'm faking that and-

Me: finds aphantasia posts in the DID subreddit

Me: oh. maybe I do have osdd. ok.

[samsmissingshoee]

ANGEL — SAM WINCHESTER.

SUMMARY — sam starts to grow fond of an angel. they have grown more comfortable around each other, and tensions run high when dean leaves for a bar.

WARNINGS — no plot all porn... 18+, softdom!sam, unprotected sex, p in v, oral, f!receiving, unexperienced!reader, angel!reader, LOTS of praise, biting, creampie, mentions of religion, sam's a sweetheart. he's also a freak.

WC — 4.3k. i got carried away.

A/N — i feel like i'm going to hell just from the warnings alone. i erm. i don't even know. shout out the two people who asked to get tagged in this 🙏 first ever smut fic, if you hate i'll probably delete my account. i am not editing 4.3k words btw. i'm lazy.

angels weren't supposed to enjoy the feeling of a human. that much was well known.

and when you came from heaven to assist castiel in whatever the hell it was that he was doing, that was repeated to you over and over again. these 'humans', they weren't important. your only job was to make sure sam winchester didn't get hurt. that was all this was supposed to be. a casual round of protecting the winchesters.

you didn't understand human norms, and at first, sam didn't like you. you didn't take personally, of course, because, well, sam hated any angel at first. castiel quickly explained to you about the brother's and how you'd be spending more time with them while he awaited directions. honestly, you couldn't care less about either of the brothers, too. they were hunters, and you were an angel. you weren't supposed to mix anyway.

sam winchester was more interesting than his older and shorter brother, though. sam was thoughtful and a lot more curious about you than he let on at first. as you spent more time 'watching' over him, you realized he enjoyed asking you questions about heaven, and the angels, and about castiel. and you tried to answer them to the best of your ability.

sam was more open to learning about you than dean, and he was more considerate when it came to teaching you knew things. slowly, he started defending you against dean's antics, and he learned about how curious you were, too.

he spent many late nights awake with you, struggling with his insomnia. you made it much more enjoyable. on the off chance that he did get some sleep, he'd wake up to you in the bunker, lounging and reading one of his books. as soon as you saw him awake, you'd pounce on him, eager to talk all about it.

sam found you endearing in the same way you found him intriguing. you both taught each other different things. he taught you about different emotions and how to communicate them to him. he showed you his favorite movies. he told you about his time in standford and about how he was studying law. you taught him about the bible, about praying and how you'd always come if he prayed for you. you taught him about heaven and hell, and angels and everything in between.

eventually, you two become friends, as much as younger sam would have hated to admit that. he showed you what friendship was and what it was like to worry about someone more than yourself. he explained to you what love was and about heartbreak. sam watched as you turned from this unemotional, blunt angel into a person, crafted by the things you loved.

you two kissed about six months after hunting with him. you were unexerienced, and painfully so, and your first kiss was nothing but giggles and awkward stares. the second, third, and fourth ones weren't any better. sam was ridiculously dotting and patient, and even though you were an angel and didn't understand what a relationship was, you still tried for him, and he loved you for it.

after a week of sneaky kisses and rushing into each other's rooms once dean fell asleep, you seemed to have gotten the hang of it. you and sam hadn't done anything remotely sexual other than a few hands-under-the-bra's and one /bad/ attempt at a handjob. sam was enthralled in watching you become more confident and learning how to touch him the way that he liked and how to kiss him properly. so he didn't mind taking things slow.

you two agreed to not have sex yet, partially because to you, it was a sin, and partially because you didn't know what you were doing. sam had no issue waiting. that was, until tonight.

you don't even remember how this happened, honestly — the lingering touches became more frequent, more needy, and at some point, sam had slipped you out of your shirt and bra. you'd barely even made it to his room /thank god for dean being out at a bar tonight/, before he was kissing you, his lips hiding something more intense tonight.

you wouldn't have protested anyways, but as soon as your shirt was gone, sam was all over you.

"i know it feels dirty, honey. but it's not. i wouldn't lie to you." sam hums against your throat, kissing the soft skin. when he talks like that, all low and soothing, you might just believe anything he says. he pulls back to look at your concerned expression, and his smile softens.

his movement stills, and you frown, almost wishing sam would convince you to do more. that feeling in your stomach, the one that felt close to nausea, started to feel nice. and you craved more of it. you craved more of sam.

although his desire outweighed his guilt for ruining the purity of an angel like this, sam still sat up for a moment, his hazel eyes practically begging you. he was nothing, if not a gentleman. "do you want this?" sam asks, hushed and spoken like a prayer, and you think you might get sent to hell just from how he's looking at you.

sam's hair is a ruffled mess, and his long sleeve black shirt was rolled up to his elbows. his carhartt jacket had long been discarded by you, tossed somewhere into the dark abyss that was the dingy, horribly lit motel room. he looks beautiful.

"i do, sammy, but—" you breathe out shakily. before you can finish answering, his hands are on your hips, tugging you closer to him. you're both standing up, his large hands moving up your skirt to trail up your sides. sam can feel your back arch against his hands slightly, and it's taking everything in him to not lose his resolve.

san, who previously said he was okay with waiting, felt like a selfish man tonight. he could honestly care less about your innocence right now. what he did care about was you, though. sam knew that if you wanted him to continue, he wouldn't be able to stop.

"but what?" sam mumbled, his fingertips digging against your hips. his erection was pressed dangerously against your thigh. he shifted you until you were pressed against him — he knew what he was doing and the effect it was having on you. you didn't answer and could only grumble a complaint out.

"just needa taste you, honey. we don't have to go all the way if you don't want to." sam's words are a contradiction to how he was staring at you. "although, i have thought about doing more." he hums, and he has a slight shit eating grin on his face. it's sort of surprising that this is your sweet sammy.

you're conflicted— this is wrong. sinful. but there was a bubbling heat in your stomach, and you wanted nothing more than to make sam feel good. maybe a part of being human was indulging in your sins. you pout at him slightly, and sam has to stop himself from moving his hips up against you. he doesn't just want this, he needs this. he needs to corrupt you, to ruin your innocence until all you can think about is him.

"fine. be gentle, though, sam. i mean it." you relent, although you didn't need much convincing. honestly, if he tried to pull off of you, you'd be the one begging him to touch you and not the other way around.

"oh, fuck—" sam groans, and he almost instantly falls to his knees. his hands are tugging off your jeans faster than you can process. "you don't know how long i've wanted this." his tone makes you feel dirty, and you can't help when your brows crumple into a slight glare. you didn't know what he was doing, but you wanted him to hurry it up.

you help him kick your jeans off around your ankles and step out of them. you're left in your cotton panties, and for some reason, it turns sam on more to know you weren't planning for this. honestly, neither was he.

"leave these on." two fingers slip underneath the elastic by your thigh, tugging them and letting them go, the fabric snapping against your skin. the action makes you suck in a breath. sam's lips make their way to your upper thighs, sucking and kissing at the sensitive skin. it's not enough, and he knows that. he's driving you crazy on purpose to see you squirm for him.

"sam—" you chastise, like a scold, your hand running through his hair and tugging on it gently, trying to bring your hips closer to him. sam fucking moans. he moans at getting his hair pulled, and it makes your brows crease in bewilderment. /you would definitely be keeping that in mind./

sam looks up at you with those same puppydog eyes, and you swear you're going to burst into literal flames and have your wings removed instantly. "needa taste my girl's pussy. y'gonna let me?" sam says softly, his voice muffled by your thigh, gently biting on a spot. when you whimper, he pulls back to kiss at the forming bruise, his hands massaging at the fat of your ass.

truth be told, you'd probably let him fold into a pretzel at this point, but you didn't want to stroke his massive ego.

the noise you make is answer enough, and sam deftly pulls your panties to the side. his hand brings yours to hold them. he needs *both* hands for devouring you. sam's two middle fingers move to collect your slick from your folds, and you shiver. his brows raise, and he smiles again. "you're soaked, baby. you really want me that bad?" he asks, and you're nodding quickly.

sam can't hold back when you look this pretty above him. you can feel his breath against you. even just looking at you bare in front of him is enough to make him want to cum in his fucking jeans.

he flattens his tongue against you, and your hips stutter against his mouth. you've never felt anything like this before. you can feel sam's grin against your cunt, his hands cupping into your ass and pulling your hips further into his mouth.

seeing such a large man, especially one like sam, at his knees, lapping at your pussy like a fucking starved man— it makes your head fuzzy.

without warning, his middle finger slips into you. your hands move to his hair to steady yourself, massaging at the brown strands, pushing some from off his sticky forehead. the concentration on his face is almost cute, but it soon becomes too hard to keep your eyes open.

another finger slips past your folds, and you're mouthing his name like a prayer. his fingers are rocking into you at a slow speed, but his mouth— it was fucking dirty, the way he'd suck on your clit, only pulling away to breathe. everytime he pulled away, a string of saliva followed, connected between you two. his chin was slick with your arousal, his chest panting with heavy breaths. and then he was right back to devouring you.

maybe sam winchester was the devil.

your hands tug on his hair slightly, and sam groans against you. the heat in your stomach was building and sam was near drunk on your pussy. when he looked up at you with those hazel eyes, you moaned, your thighs tremoring.

"sam— sam, it feels too good... please—" you breathed out, panting too now, and sam didn't relent, no matter how hard you were tugging at his hair. his hand was holding your hip hard not daring to let you squirm away from him. indents of his fingertips would ruin your pretty skin by the morning. you had to shy away from his intense gaze.

sam pulled away, still fucking his fingers into you. "eyes on me, baby." he mumbled, before sinking flush against your clit again. you listened, although your face was an embarrassing hue of pink. sam was just as loud and needy, if not worse than you. everytime your thighs clenched around him, or you tugged on his hair, profanities and groans slipped from his lips. he needed you.

sam kept his tongue latched onto you, his eyes showing that he was as desperate as you were to make you cum. the noises he was making were filth, soft grunts and groans, all muffled by your puffy pussy. when your eyes flickered down, you noticed that one of his hands were palming himself through his jeans.

with every shake and spasm, it was like sam knew you were close. he was using his hands to rock your hips more onto his tongue, your weight practically suffocating him. sam would gladly die a happy man in between your folds, if it meant getting to look up at your beautiful face contorting in pleasure. his chest swells at the fact that he is the one who gets to touch you like this.

that feeling returned as quickly as it left, and soon you were cumming on his face, your legs shaking as he kept his fingers curled into your folds. that was probably the best thing you'd felt since coming to earth. sam pressed a kiss to your overstimulated clit, before kissing up your stomach, your breasts, collarbone, and finally standing to his full height over you.

"how was that?" sam asks, licking the wetness off his fingers. as much as he wanted to ruin you, he also wanted to make sure you were comfortable.

heavy pants still wracked both of your bodies, your thighs aching and barely able to hold your own weight. he had the audacity to ask that after making you feel things you hadn't felt in your centuries alive? in between deep breaths, you shot him a slight glare.

"what do you think?" you tutted, puffing his lips out in that gorgeous pout that made sam was to kiss you stupid, holding onto his biceps so you didn't lose balance.

sam grins in response, his hands moving to your bare hips, pressing you into him. his cock was fucking painfully hard and he had to refrain from rutting against you. "i need to fuck you, honey." fuck sam and his beautiful eyes, pleading at you. his hand leads your to palm him from over his jeans, and he moans softly, so prettily.

you were conflicted. you knew his cock would feel so much better than his fingers, but this was wrong. "sammy—" you say in the same chastising voice that drives him insane.

"please, let me fuck you. need to feel you around my dick. fuck, doesn't even have to be all the way." sam pleads, and you have a hard time saying no to that. he was practically begging you. you sigh at how weak you were for this man. "please fuck me, sam."

sam eyes widen slightly, and he can't help his grin as he pushes you back against the bed. his eyes stay on you as he pulls his shirt off, discarding it across the motel floor along with all of yours. you can't help but stare at him. all tanned, scarred, and bruised, despite being young. it was so different compared to your imperfect skin, free of any blemishes or let alone scars.

sam's tantalizingly slow as he takes off his belt, followed by his jeans. he's fucking huge. that much you can tell by his bulge alone. your eyes widen slightly when he strips his boxers off.

he wanted to take his time with you, to treat you like the goddamn angel you were, to wrack every noise he can from your lips. but, sam was impatient as hell. and he was really, really hard.

"you're beautiful." sam coos, caging you in between his much larger frame. there is a shine in his gaze, so soft and loving, that it almost makes you feel queasy. he's not doing this because he's bored or because he wants to get off. sam's doing this because you're his world.

"you're alright." you respond, not able to hold back the giggle that escaped your lips afterward, especially when you felt sam's annoyed sigh against the crook of your neck. you can feel his irritated grin. sam fell in love with that devilish laugh of yours, and he found it endearing that even during this, he could make you sound like that.

it was such a sharp contrast from how emotionless and... awkward— you first were when you met the winchester brothers. sam has loved watching you adapt this sassy personality, loved eyeing you while you admire new things, hearing the way your voice heightened whenever you laughed, the way you took over parts of his and dean's own quirks and personalities.

"just alright? you wound me, angel."

this time, you rolled your eyes. you turn your head to the side to press your lips against the mole below his right eye. "you're beautiful too, sammy. you already know that." you huff out, your tone unmistakably soft. sam scoffed, nipping at her neck slightly. it was nice to hear that from you, regardless of what he thought about himself.

unfortunately for you, the compliment rushes to sam's head. he sits up slightly, his cock pressed against your lower stomach, a hand brushing over your cheek, moving your fanned hair out of your face. "are you sure you're okay with this? we can stop— i'll put on a movie, and we can forget—"

you interrupt sam's worries by pressing a kiss to his palm. "yes sam, i'm sure. please." and that small act of intimacy followed by your voice pleading for him was enough reassurance for sam. no need to tell him twice.

sam pumps himself a few times, his eyes not once leaving yours. "scoot your hips up for me, honey." you oblige, and you can feel his cock pressed against your clothed entrance. the sight leaves nothing for the imagination and sam sighs as his fingers pulls your panties down to your ankles.

sam looks like he's in fucking heaven, his lips parted and staring at you bare in front of him. his thumb habitually moves to your clit, rubbing soft circles against it just to watch you squirm under him.

"sam, quit being a damn tease." you frown and wiggle your hips into his more. his gaze is making you shy, something you didn't know was even possible as an angel.

"innocent angel, my ass." sam mumbles under his breath, but he obliges, lining up his cock to you. he collects your slick with his tip, dragging the wetness over your already overstimulated clit. sam rubs it against your folds a few times, before pressing only about halfway in. the moan that leaves your lips is heavenly, so much so that sam's head has to fall to your shoulder and bites it softly so he doesn't cum too fast like a damn high schooler.

"you're so fucking tight, shit—" sam groans and it's so dirty coming from him. he's usually so sweet to you, so hearing this is different. and arousing. but different. you'd expect this talk out of dean, not sam.

sam really wished he would've slept around a little more in college now because it was taking far too much concentration to not finish already.

"need to fuck you, baby. please." sam all but whimpers out. all of your beliefs, your nightly prayers, all of it was gone the second you felt him inside of you. you can only nod in response, your hands tugging at his waist to come closer to you.

sam stills, looking at you for a moment like he can't believe you want this. and slowly, he pushes in all the way, and you both share a pornographic moan.

sam is quiet as he lets you adjust to his size. he wasn't one to toot his own horn, but he was pretty big. and even though your vessel wasn't a virgin, mentally, you still were. sam had a mantra of things going through his head — the main ones being: please don't cum, please don't cum, please don't cum. don't say i love you. don't move too fast yet. let her adjust.

sam leans down to kiss your forehead. "good?" he hums.

you nod again. "hurts a little." and sam is nothing but patient, kissing each of your temples before brushing your hair away.

"i promise you're doing so good. it's gonna hurt for a moment. it'll feel better soon. just relax." sam murmured against your shoulder, his lips sighing down towards your collarbone. "gonna move now, sweet girl." calloused palms are pressing your thighs to your chest. he leans down enough so you can hold on to his shoulders if you need.

with one hand still on the back of your leg, and the other one cupping one of your breasts, he pulls out almost all the way before rocking in slowly. your eyes screwing shut from pleasure is enough to test the waters with a more heavy thrust. "that's it, baby. look at you—" sam groans, his fingertips digging into your skin. his eyes were glued to where his cock was entering you rhythmically, and god, he could get addicted to that sight. sam could fucking see where the tip of his cock was pressing into your belly. his palm moved over it, adding slight pressure to your lower pelvis. the feeling made him groan out your name softly. he was just as loud as you were. "so beautiful."

part of you wanted sam to shut up so you could focus on the feeling of your walls fluttering around his cock, but the other half of you enjoyed the flithy words leaving his flushed lips.

"oh, fuck. sammy, 's too much—" you whimpered out, your hand squeezing his biceps. your legs wrapped around his waist to bring him closer, the balls of your heels digging against his ass. sam think he likes that you're not very vocal. it makes every beg, every moan that much more special to him. he was the only one who got to see his angel falling apart like this.

everything about sam is fucking massive, from his height, to his sheer size difference over you. it shouldn't have been shocking that his dick was huge too, but you felt it now. you felt every single inch, stretching you out, your arousal slipping down his shaft. sam's thrusts grew more feverish, his shaggy brown bangs falling into his face as his head fell forward slightly. "i know you can handle it baby." he grunted in response to your plea, hazel eyes fucked out with lust.

that feeling in your lower belly returned, and now, at least, you know what it meant. it was overwhelming, but not enough for you. your hand reached for sam's hand, guiding it to you clit. sam thought that was the hottest thing he'd ever fucking seen, and shuddered slightly. "you wanna cum around my cock? is that it, sweetheart?" sam asks, a small, contemplating smile on his lips.

you're writhing under his cock, your back arching off the bed, his thumb rubbing soft circles around your nub. you tap his bicep in warning of your approaching orgasm, but he doesn't stop. he doesn't slow down either. in fact, he ruts his hips faster. the feeling of you clenching around his dick is enough to send him over the edge, too. he's biting down hard on his cheek to stop himself from cumming before you. he wants, needs to see you cum first, before he can.

your face contorts into pleasure, and you cum hard, sam still fucking you through your orgasm. he groans and his eyes close when he watches you making a mess all over him. "thaaat's it. that's my girl." he encourages, the feeling of your walls clenching around him tipping him over the edge. "fuck. gonna fill you up." he grunts against your shoulder, his hips stuttering slightly and you moan as you feel his cock twitch inside you, before you feel cum spurt into your cunt.

sam pulls out a moment after, his eyes blown out when he watches his spend leak from your pulsating hole. he uses two fingers to spread it around over your folds. once he's satisfied with his handiwork, he slumps down into the bed next to you.

you're still a panting, sighing mess. you feel your legs twitch occasionally, and you're finally coming to your senses. you were just fucked stupid by your best friend. a human.

"jesus, sam. is this really what humans are doing?" you ask, out of genuine curiosity, and sam pinches your side with a slight laugh. he looks spent, almost as bad as you. his head falls to your shoulder, pressing his lips to the soft skin present.

"the lucky ones, yeah." sam huffs in amusement. "you're okay, right? i didn't hurt you, or pressure you or anything?" his voice is a little persistent, worried, already overthinking like he wasn't just inside of you.

"'course not. that was amazing. i think i'd go to hell if it meant having sex everyday— i see why castiel was encouraging me into trying this." you tilt your head to the side, and sam raises an eyebrow. he didn't even dare ask what odd things castiel told you about. nor did he want to know. he couldn't see castiel doing anyone without scaring them away with his bluntness first.

sam chooses to ignore that, leaning over to pepper kisses onto your cheeks, nose, and forehead. anywhere you'll let him at this point. "you did amazing. absolutely drained me. y'sure you haven't done that before?" he teases, and you roll your eyes at him. your eyes watched him with concern when sam stood.

"alright, crazy girl. let's get you cleaned up."

[hannie-dul-set]

have u read villain with a crush on webtoon

i read it on a scantalation site before!!! but i haven't caught up w it anymore HSHHSHS but i ADORE the concept so much i swear it's so funny 😭😭

[soaps-mohawk]

Cherry Red, Crimson Blood

Chapter 15: Bonnie

Summary: Your heat is over and your pack has moved on with their lives, settling back into the familiar routine. Except, some things have begun to change, and you're not entirely sure if its for the better.

Pairing: Poly 141 x reader

Word Count: 7456 words

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, smut, oral, handjobs, overstimulation, P in V sex, unprotected sex, creampie, hair pulling, switch Johnny, Johnny's lingerie kink, Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, language, mention of nightmares, brief talk about killing and violence, insomnia, fluff, and of course a bit of angst

A/N: This chapter was an absolute bitch to write. I'm not kidding this was a nightmare. I'm happy with the changes I've made though, and how things are progressing. We've made a little bit of a time jump here, but not much. I think I'm getting sick so, posting the chapter before I inevitably pass out again. Oh, and Happy Easter everyone that celebrates.

Want early access to chapters, as well as other bonus content? Consider supporting me on Patreon.

MASTERLIST | <- Previous | Next ->

Your eyes fly open as the alarm blares. They burn as you squint against the bright phone light. An arm reaches over you, the warm skin sliding against your back as he fumbles to turn off the offending noise. 

You let out a quiet groan as you catch the numbers dictating the time on the screen before the phone is placed back on the nightstand. “‘S too early.” You grumble, rubbing at your crusty eyes. 

“Go back to sleep.” John murmurs, pressing a soft kiss to your shoulder before he shifts, climbing over you to get out of the bed. He tucks the blankets back around you before slipping into the bathroom. 

You won't go back to sleep. The last time you'd glanced at the time on your phone had been two hours ago, at 2 A.M. You’ve been awake most of the night, as you have been the last couple nights. You haven't been sleeping well. It was like your heat opened a floodgate and now every time you close your eyes, you're transported back into the past, back when you were a child. Back when things weren't fine. 

You've started trying to avoid sleep, waking constantly during the night from nightmares or from your brain’s own fear of them starting back up. It’s only been a week since your heat ended, and yet you feel no more rested than you did coming out of it. Nothing you’ve tried has worked, not even staying awake until you inevitably pass out prevents your subconscious mind from pulling up the horrible memories of your past. 

Even sleeping next to your alpha hasn’t provided any comfort for your mind. His presence isn’t enough to quell the fear in your mind that the nightmares might come back, that the memories might surface. 

Even he can’t protect you from this. 

You close your eyes as the bathroom door opens again, pretending to sleep as John dresses for his morning workout. He’s quiet, near silent as he moves about the room. It’s almost terrifying how quiet they can be. Though, you suppose, if your survival depends on it, it’s a skill you’d spend plenty of time honing. 

John grabs his phone from the nightstand, running a gentle hand over your head before he leaves the room, closing the door quietly behind him. You lay there for a few minutes, trying not to let the guilt eat you alive. You should tell them you’re struggling to sleep, that your mind is plaguing you with memories from your past, but you’re afraid of what they might think of you. You’re not the perfect omega, you’re not as whole as you might seem. 

You’re held together with duct tape on the inside. They already have enough to worry about now, they don’t need the weight of your misery thrown on top of the loads they all carry. 

You let out a long breath, turning over in John’s bed. You press your face into the pillow, inhaling the imprint of his scent on the fabric. It’s still warm where he was laying, and you shuffle over into that spot, letting your body go lax as you imagine him still there with you, arms still wrapped around your body. You want to bury yourself in his arms, press against his chest until you sink into him and become one. 

Only then, perhaps you can feel safe enough to sleep. 

You press your face further into the pillow, every inhale filled with John’s scent. It lulls you into a daze, the hypnagogic stage between sleep and wakefulness. 

You jolt as a hand touches your arm, calluses smoothing over the bare skin. You blink your eyes open, letting out a quiet groan. It’s light outside now, the room bathed in white light instead of the yellow tinge of the nightlight John had bought for his room for you.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you.” John says, gently squeezing your arm. He’s already dressed for the day, hair still damp from the shower. You hadn’t even noticed he’d returned. 

You roll over, rubbing your eyes. “‘S fine. Didn’t even know I was asleep. Breakfast time?” 

John hums, leaning over you. “Almost. You’ve got time to get ready.” 

You blink up at him blearily, your mind still trying to wake up completely after your short nap. You stare up into his eyes, getting lost in their blue depths. You feel like you could swim in them, his deep earthy scent drawing forward memories of camping and swimming in the lake. Memories you could pretend were happy, memories not tainted by fear and grief. 

“Christ,” He breathes, pressing his lips to yours. “So fucking beautiful.” 

Your cheeks warm at his words, your lips moving against his as you kiss. You trail a hand up his arm, sliding it to his back. His shirt is soft, thin enough that you can feel the muscles in his back as you smooth your hand across his shoulder blades. 

“Wish I could stay here all day.” He murmurs, his face pressing into your throat. You tilt your head for him, a quiet groan rumbling through his chest at your sign of submission. He sighs, pressing his nose against your scent gland for a moment before he straightens back up. “Got a job to do.” 

You let out a groan as you stretch, arching your back. “Fuck your job.” 

“I’d much rather be fucking you.” He says, leaning down to nip at your bottom lip before he stands up, grabbing the shirt you’d worn to slip into his room last night off the floor. It’s one of his, one you’d stolen from his laundry hamper while he was in the shower. “Don’t let anyone hear you say that.” 

You grin, pushing the sheets down before sitting up on the edge of the bed. You rub your eyes tiredly, stretching again before pulling on his shirt, slipping your slippers on. You pad back to your room, changing into more appropriate clothes for breakfast. You’ll be left to your own devices again afterward as the guys return to their normal training schedule. You won’t be napping this time, though, you fear. Instead you’ll be looking for ways to keep yourself awake. 

You and John walk hand in hand to the mess. It’s been a while since you’ve been inside of it, and you find you’ve grown to miss it a bit. You don’t miss the stares, the looks that pass over you and your entwined hands as John leads you to the line to get food. It’s like they know, like they all somehow witnessed what had transpired over the last couple weeks, like they had all been spectators to it. 

John makes your tray for you again, carrying it to the table where the others are already seated. You take your normal spot next to Kyle, both him and John sitting closer to you than before. Perhaps they were picking up on your nervous energy, but even Johnny and Ghost seemed to be sitting closer. You cast a glance between them before digging into your tray. Something had transpired, but you’re not quite sure what. 

You might never get to know. 

It’s quiet as you eat, the coffee bitter and watery, but you don’t care. You’ll suffer anything that might give you a boost of energy to make it to lunch without falling asleep. 

Johnny walks you back to the barracks after breakfast is over, his arm around your waist as you take your time crossing the courtyard. He’s oddly quiet compared to how energetic he usually is this early in the morning. Something must have happened to make him silent. 

“Johnny?” You ask after a group of soldiers jog past behind you. 

He hums, looking down at you. His eyes are still bright, but his brows are slightly furrowed. 

“Is everything alright?” You ask carefully, not wanting to risk pushing any buttons. 

“Aye.” He answers after letting out a sigh. “Jus’ an incident in the gym this mornin’. Nothing ye need tae worry about.” 

You raise your brows at him, silently conveying your desire for more information, if he can give you any. 

“Just some alphas talkin’ shite, like they do. Callin’ ye the 141’s whore. Askin’ if we all take turns or if ye let us all go at once.” He says, his tone practically seething as he leads you into the barracks. “Simon reminded them of their place.” 

You can only imagine how that went. 

Despite their obvious tension at the jabs made at you by the other alphas, you don't feel as angry as you probably should. Being called a whore was a bit demeaning, but part of what was said wasn't entirely wrong. Perhaps it's just some leftover hormones surging from your heat, or maybe being claimed has shifted your feelings towards your packmates, but the idea of being shared by them has warmth spreading through you. The mental images piecing together in your mind of taking them all at once would probably make the alphas that made that jab at you blush furiously. 

“Johnny?” You ask, turning to him when you reach your door. 

“Aye?” He stares down at you, his blue eyes soft as they gaze down into your own. 

“I, uh, I wouldn’t mind if at least part of what they said was true...” You sink your teeth into your lip. “You...uh...you’ve been waiting for a while...for your turn.” 

He gulps, shifting slightly on his feet. You can’t tell if he’s nervous or excited or something in between. 

“Well, I’ve been officially cleared to partake in more...strenuous activities..” 

“Christ.” He breathes, crowding you against the door. For a moment you’re worried he might just do it right here, right now, but instead he leans in, close enough you can smell the coffee he had with his breakfast. “I’d love that, kitten.” He bites his own lip as he stares down at yours. “Let me know, and I’ll be ready for you.” He leans down, closing the short distance between you as he kisses you. 

You lean into him, kissing him back. It feels like the first time you kissed him, except you can feel the hunger, the restraint behind this kiss. You can feel how much he’s been holding back, how long he’s waited to finally have this moment. To think of anyone desiring you in such a way makes your head spin. He wants you for you, not what you can do for him, not what you can give to him. Not even just for what’s between your legs, even if that’s what you’re going to do. 

He wants to be with you because you’re you. He doesn’t have to, he could choose not to, but he does. 

He pulls away, staring down at you. His eyes are darker now, speaking promises of what’s to come. “When you’re ready, I’ll be waiting.” 

“You're tired.” 

You blink, your gaze snapping to his face. You had been drifting thoughtlessly, quite enamored with a single spot on the floor. You're not sure how long he let you stand there, empty-headed and practically dozing upright. 

You rub your eyes, trying to force your brain back to awareness. “It's early.” You give the excuse, toeing off your shoes. “Been a while since we've done this.”

“You're going to have to work extra hard to gain it all back.” Ghost says, pulling off his sweatshirt. 

Your eyes are immediately drawn to his arms, the strength in them, the tattoos on his skin. You bite back the desire to move closer, to get just a glimpse at one close up. You want to sit and trace them, hear the story of every single one. You want to push his sleeve up, watch the way his muscles bulge and flex, see how far his tattoo goes up his arm. 

You snap yourself out of your thoughts, moving onto the mat before you do something embarrassing like starting to drool. You watch him as he stands at the edge of the mat, brown eyes taking you in as you stand there. Something tickles in the back of your mind, a hint of fear, the sense of sudden danger prevalent. What would you do if he suddenly ran at you? Try to dodge and make it to the door? Where would you go? The med center again? 

“Easy.” He grumbles, sensing your obvious tension.

Your gaze snaps back to him, his posture relaxed as he stays still. “I'm putting a lot of trust in you.”

“I know.” He says, standing almost as still as a statue. You wonder how he can possibly be so still, but you suppose it's something he learned to do. “I should never have broken that trust in the first place.”

Your eyes widen, brows lifting as you stare at him. You didn't expect such a straightforward apology from him. You haven't really gotten one, until now. You hesitate as you stand there in silence, Ghost obviously waiting for your response. 

“I don't know if I can forgive you.” You finally say. 

“You shouldn't.” He shrugs, his gaze shifting to the wall behind you. “Even if you weren't really in danger, it was still a dick move.”

Your eyebrows raise even higher. “An apology and admitting you were a dick? Should I be worried?”

He huffs out a breath, shaking his head. “Consider it an offering of amicability, for Johnny. I know you two are getting close, so inevitably we're going to find ourselves around each other more often than we have previously.”

“Well, I suppose I could accept that.” You say, shifting on your feet. “I don't think you could convince Johnny otherwise.”

“Hardly. He wouldn't listen anyway.” He finally moves, shifting on his feet. “You gonna put your hackles down so I can approach?”

You take a deep breath, relaxing the tension in your body. You don't really have a reason to fear him, despite what he did. He hasn't given you a reason to fear him since then, and he's even gone so far as to apologize in his own way. John wouldn't have allowed this to start again if he didn't trust Ghost not to do something that might put you in danger. 

John trusts him, so you should be able to as well. 

Ghost slowly approaches, your eyes watching him carefully until he's directly in front of you. You stare up at him, holding his gaze. You wish you could see the rest of his face on the off chance it might give you a hint at what he's thinking and feeling. You wonder if that's partially why he wears the mask. 

Ghost holds out his hand and you place your own in his. It's so much bigger than yours, his long fingers engulfing your wrist as he wraps your hand. You could probably do it yourself by this point, but you like making him do it. You like the way his hands hold yours, the roughness of his skin against your own. 

He starts out reviewing things you already know. Punches, kicks, dodging. It doesn't take long for you to get back into the groove of things, moving like it hasn't been nearly a month since your last training session. You notice the fatigue faster than you had during your last session, but you expected that after almost a month, paired with your heat two weeks ago. 

“Now, punching and kicking will only get you so far in a fight.” He says, giving you a moment to breathe. “Almost all fights are going to end up on the ground. Even if your goal is disarming enough to escape, the chances of you and your opponent ending up on the ground is highly likely.” 

He swipes your feet out from under you before you can even blink, nearly knocking the wind from you as you land on the mat on your back. He’s on you quickly, dropping to his hands and knees over you. Your breath catches in your throat as you stare at him above you, his hulking form seeming even larger from this angle. Your mind begins to run wild, imagining all the things that could happen in this position. 

“Focus.” He grumbles, arms flexing as he presses his hands into the mat where they rest on either side of your head. “You don’t want to be in this position in a fight. You’re too vulnerable.” 

A shiver runs down your spine at his words. You are vulnerable like this. Even with him, someone who doesn’t want to hurt you, it would be so easy. Your head begins to turn, your gaze leaving his as instinct begins to take over. 

“No.” He snaps, gripping your chin to turn your head back so he’s looking in your eyes. “You do that in a fight, you’re not going to see the other side.” 

You gulp, trying to ignore the warmth of his fingers on your face, the firmness of his grip as he keeps you from showing submission to him. That’s not why you’re here. He’s right. If you do that in a fight, it’ll be over before you even have a chance to run. 

“Your legs are far stronger than your arms. Use them to your advantage.” He says, showing you how to get him into the right position to flip him. 

You know he’s helping you as you flip him onto his back. If he really was fighting you, you’re not sure you could have done it, even if you managed to land enough of a hit to disarm him. You wind up on top of him, sitting on his stomach. The position doesn’t help your racing thoughts, and you pray you can keep enough control over yourself so you don’t make it obvious. 

“Use your legs to pin my hands.” He directs you. You shift your knees slightly, trapping his hands against the mat. “Good.” He says, laying still under you. “You can’t hold a bigger opponent down here for long, but that’s not the point. This gives you a moment of opportunity to go for the face or the neck. Stun them and that gives you a headstart. If you have a weapon available, then you have one less person to worry about chasing you.” 

You gulp at his words. It hadn’t even crossed your mind during your training. He had said it so simply, so easily. You suppose it is to him, after years of doing it, after countless moments where it’s his life or theirs. Is that what he tells himself? Is that how he rationalizes it? Is there so much blood on his hands now that killing is as easy as breathing? 

You wonder how they all rationalize it. They all have blood on their hands, they all have killed, and will kill again. Every time they leave and come back, it’s with more blood, more nameless faces on the list of lives they've taken, all in the name of the greater good. 

Is violence and death really the path to the greater good? 

“What?” He asks, sensing your inner turmoil. 

You sit back on his stomach, your body rising and falling with his even breaths. “I don’t know if I could do it.” 

He tugs his hands from beneath your knees easily, resting them on the mat next to your legs. You can feel his fingers twitch as the blood rushes back into them. “You might not have much of a choice.” He says, holding your gaze. There’s a softness in his gaze you have never seen before. “Sometimes it’s the only choice. If they’re attacking you, they’re better off dead. Even if their goal is to take you alive, the things they’ll do to you.” He shakes his head. 

He’s speaking from experience. You know he’s seen things, witnessed the brutality omegas are subjected to at the hands of the worst kinds of alphas and betas. He’s watched omegas die in front of him while he’s sat helpless.

His hand lifts, cupping the back of your head to pull you down closer to his face. You catch yourself with your hands on either side of his head, fighting the urge to tense your shoulders. His hand doesn’t move from the back of your head, his fingers not even twitching as he holds you steady. 

“If they’re willing to do it to you, how many others have been on the receiving end? If you’re not willing to be the last, how many others will come after you?” He says, his gaze intense as he stares at you. “I hope you never have to, but you always have to prepare for the worst.” 

He holds you there for a breath, staring up into your eyes before he releases you, flipping you off of him and onto your back on the mat. He pushes himself up to stand, staring down at you as you lay there, catching your breath and thinking over the last few moments that transpired. 

“Come on. It’s almost time for breakfast.” 

It’s quiet in the rec room. The TV is off for once, only the hum of electricity and the occasional turning of a page the only sound breaking the silence. You and Ghost are the only two in the rec room, both of you relaxing silently as you read. He’s in the chair as usual, and you’re stretched out on the couch. 

You’re only halfway paying attention to your book, still thinking over your conversation with Johnny earlier, and what transpired in the gym during your training session yesterday. You know how much Johnny wants to be with you, and you're more than willing to go that far with him. You like Johnny, more than just as a packmate. It's hard not to fall for him with his confidence and his playful demeanor. You know he's been desperate to take things to the next level too. 

All he's waiting on is you saying the word. 

He will never force you into it. He'll impatiently wait for you to go to him, to tell him that you want it. All jokes and teasing aside, you know he'd never make you feel like you were being forced into something. 

The thought makes you want to cry. 

“Pull his hair.” Ghost’s voice cuts through the silence, nearly making you jump. 

You lower your book so you can see him, eyebrows raising in surprise at his words. “What?” 

“When you finally fuck Johnny, grab him by the mohawk. He likes it.” Ghost says, not even looking up from his own book. 

You stare at him wide-eyed, wondering for a moment if he can read minds, or if you’re just not quite as subtle as you think you’re being. 

“I'll, uh, keep that in mind.” You say, lifting your book again to hide your blushing face. 

The room descends into silence once more, the two of you continuing to read as if nothing had happened, as if that conversation hadn’t transpired. You wish it felt that way in your mind, though. The mental images Ghost’s words have drawn up drowning out the words on the pages that you’re trying to read. You’re trying not to get worked up further, but you can’t help it. After your training session and the thoughts that had come to mind with Ghost, and now these new images of Johnny, you’re sure your scent has begun to sweeten with arousal. 

You need to rectify this, and fast. 

You knock on the door, shifting nervously on your feet. Your hands have disappeared in your sleeves, the weight of your phone in your pocket the only thing keeping you from floating to the ceiling and dissipating into the air from the anxiety. 

Your stomach nearly drops from your body as the door swings open, Gaz standing there in his full glory. 

“Everything alright?” He asks, staring down at you with those big brown eyes. “You look nervous.”

You swallow the nerves, nodding in response. “Yeah, I just...wanted to talk to you for a minute.” 

He steps away from the door, brows still pinched in worry and confusion as he motions for you to enter. You brush past him as you step into his room, taking a look around. You haven't been in his room before. It's slightly smaller than yours and John's, and it doesn't have a private bathroom. There's artwork up on the walls, and a couple of plants on his desk, along with a few personal belongings. It's neat and tidy, not that you expected anything less. 

“What did you want to talk about?” He asks, turning to face you after closing the door. 

You take a deep breath, calming the nervous twist in your stomach. You shouldn’t be nervous. It’s a natural thing to bring up to packmates. You blame it on the fatigue from your lack of sleep putting you on edge.

“I wanted to ask you something.” You start, staring into his big brown eyes. They’re so beautiful, so expressive as they stare down at you. “Johnny and I...we’re going to...sleep together soon and...I just wanted to make sure that was okay? In case maybe you wanted to go first?” 

Kyle’s lips slowly lift up into a smile as you stare at him nervously, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “He’s been an absolute tosser since before your heat, and he’d only become utterly unbearable if he didn’t get to go first.” He steps up closer to you, grinning down at you. “For the sake of everyone’s sanity, I don’t mind being patient. Besides,” He leans down, his breath fanning your ear. “I at least know what you look like naked, so I can occupy myself while I wait.” 

Your face burns with warmth at his words, a shiver running down your spine. He’s not wrong. He’s seen you at your most vulnerable, lost to your heat, naked and stuffed with John’s knot. Your brain flashes back to the start of your heat, the feel of his fingers slipping beneath the waistband of your pajama pants. You swallow thickly, meeting his gaze as he pulls back. 

“Enjoy your time with Johnny, love.” He slips his hand into yours, lifting it to his lips. He presses a soft kiss to your knuckles, lips brushing your skin as he speaks. “I’ll be here waiting for you when you’re ready.” 

You feel a bit out of breath as you leave Kyle’s room, and you’re sure your scent has sweetened with arousal and excitement. You might have been tempted to just jump Kyle’s bones right now, had it not been for your desire for Johnny, and your commitment to letting him be first again. You know Kyle’s right. You’d never hear the end of it if Johnny didn’t get the chance to be next in line. 

Now you just have to find him and tell him the good news. 

“Ye look nervous. Are ye nervous?” 

“I mean, this is a big step...” You say, wrapping your arms around Johnny’s neck as he shifts you into his lap. You try not to think about how strong he is, how easily he moves you. 

“Ye don’t have tae do this, if ye don’ want to.” He says, looking down into your eyes. 

“It’s not that...” You say, shifting in his lap. “It’s more...there’s no going back after this.” 

He wraps his arms tighter around you. “If I didnae want it, I wouldnae offer. Yer a fucking stunnin’ omega, kitten. Would be crazy not tae want ye.” 

Your cheeks warm at his words, your gaze dropping from the intensity of his own. His stubble tickles your fingers as you trace the line of his jaw, working your way towards his lips. His tongue darts out, wetting his bottom lip as your fingers trace the jagged scar on his chin. 

“Just...go easy on me? At least this first time?” You say, tracing his lips with your fingers. 

“‘Course, kitten.” He says, pressing a kiss to your fingertips. “Wouldnae want to scare ye away.” 

Your eyes widen slightly at the implications of his words, your stomach fluttering with excitement and a hint of fear at what he could possibly be alluding to. His hand lifts, gently grasping your chin, tilting your face slightly. He closes the distance between you, pressing his lips to yours. 

“Don’ worry.” He murmurs against your lips. “Take good care of ye.” 

You hum against his lips, tasting the chocolate he’d been snacking on when you sought him out as his tongue slips into your mouth. His hand leaves your chin, sliding down your throat to rest right at the base of your throat, fingers splayed across your clavicle. His thumb rests right on the edge of your mating mark, the pressure making you shiver. 

Johnny pulls you tighter against his chest, your arms wrapping around his neck. He moans against your lips as you shift against him, the bulge in his pants pressing against your ass. It’s not the first time you’ve felt it, but this time it’s different. This time you’re going to do something about it. 

“Fucking christ, take ye right here on this couch, if I’m not careful.” Johnny groans, nipping at your bottom lip. 

“Then best take me to bed, Sergeant.” You say, pulling back slightly to give him what you hope is a sultry look. 

The groan that’s pulled from his lips is downright salacious, something flashing in his eyes as you call him by his rank. He curses, tightening his hold around you before he stands, maneuvering you so you’re tossed over his shoulder. You let out a squeak of surprise that’s quickly replaced by giggles as he packs you down the hall to his room. 

He sets you on your feet once you're inside, closing the door. You look around his room, surprised to see it full of art supplies with drawings and paintings all over the walls. You stare open mouthed, taking it all in. It's messier than John and Kyle's rooms, though there's still a sense of order to it. A chaotic order, but you suppose that explains Johnny perfectly. 

“You draw?” You say, studying the art on the walls.

“Aye,” Johnny says, coming up behind you. “In my free time.”

“I didn't know that.” A small smile tugs at your lips. “They're beautiful.”  

“Thank ye, kitten.” He wraps his arms around you from behind, reminding you of why you came in here in the first place. “Not quite as beautiful as you.”

Your face warms at his compliment and you tilt your head back, staring up at him. “You're such a charmer.” 

“Try my best.” He grins, leaning down and kissing your forehead. “Promise I'll show ye my drawings later.”

You turn in his arms, wrapping your own around his neck. “I know. You're desperate.”

“Been waitin’ weeks for this, kitten.” He groans, grinding against you. 

He leans down, pressing his lips to yours. You tighten your grip around his neck, jumping into his arms. He manages to catch you, stumbling half a step back as his hands grip your thighs. You wrap your legs around his waist, lifting yourself so you’re face to face with him. 

“Christ.” He groans against your lips, walking forward until he reaches his bed.

He drops you on your back, your body bouncing on the mattress as he settles on his knees over you. His eyes have darkened as he stares down at you, your stomach twisting in excitement. Warmth has started to pool between your legs, your scent sweetening with arousal. 

Johnny’s hands are rough as they slip under your shirt, tugging it up over your head. He groans, eyes fluttering as he realizes you’re without a bra underneath. He curses quietly, something you can’t quite understand as his hands immediately close around your breasts. Your lips part as he squeezes the flesh in his hands, leaning down to take a nipple in his mouth. You gasp at the sensation as his lips close around the sensitive bud, suckling at it like he’s a man starved. 

Well, you suppose he is. 

He has been waiting for quite a while for this opportunity. Something about it makes your brain tingle, arousal pooling in your stomach at the thought of someone desiring you that much. 

It’s not just him, though. Three of the four members of your pack have expressed their desire for you in such a way. The thought makes your head spin. You’re just a simple omega, and yet, here they are going half crazy over you. 

Johnny releases your nipple with a pop, shifting so he can give the same attention to the other one. Arousal continues to pool between your legs, your arms wrapping around his shoulders. You drag your fingernails across the back of his neck, a shiver wracking through his body, his hips grinding down against your thigh. 

“Fuck,” He gasps, releasing your nipple to stare up at you.

You repeat the motion, dragging your fingers slower. His eyes roll back, hips grinding harder against your thigh. He’s so sensitive, you think, pushing your thigh up against him. He lets out what can only be described as almost a whine, rutting his hips against your leg. 

“Fuck,” He curses again, pushing himself back up onto his knees. “Tonight is about you, kitten.” He takes a deep breath before slipping his fingers under the waistband of your pants, tugging them down quickly and tossing them on the floor next to your shirt. 

He sinks his teeth into his lip as he stares down at your panties, one of the pairs he got you on your shopping trip before your date with John. You had changed into them specifically for Johnny, remembering how excited he’d looked when he bought you five pairs of the lacy garments. He groans quietly as he runs his fingers over your lace covered skin, slowly lowering his fingers between your thighs. He glances up at you, meeting his gaze and you give him a nod before his fingers dip lower, trailing the wet spot on the lacy fabric. 

You part your legs more for him as he rubs you through your panties, quiet moans leaving your lips at the feeling of the friction from the fabric. His eyes are still on you, glued to your face as the pleasure begins to build just from his touch. You buck your hips against his hand, searching out more. More pleasure, more of his touch, more of him. 

“Look at ye, needy little thing.” He groans, his thumb dragging up your slit until he finds your clit, slowly circling it through the fabric. “Barely touched ye an’ yer cunt’s already soakin’ yer skids. Fucking sweet little thing, so needy for me, aren’t ye?” 

You push yourself up onto your elbows, staring down at him. “Are you going to sit there and run your mouth all night, or are you going to fuck me?” 

He grins wickedly at you. “I’m just gettin’ started, kitten.” 

He leans down, pressing a kiss to the inside of your knee before trailing kisses up your inner thigh. His thumb continues to stroke you through your panties, applying more and more pressure as he gets closer and closer to your center. He whispers out a curse as he shoves your panties to the side, revealing your glistening folds to him. He leans forward, warm breath fanning your slit before he closes his mouth around you. 

You gasp at the sensation, dropping back onto your back on the bed as he drags his tongue through your folds, flicking it across your clit before he closes his lips around the sensitive bud, suckling at it like he did your nipples earlier. Pleasure shoots through you as he eats you like a man starved, slurping away at your pussy obscenely. 

“Fuck, Johnny!” You gasp, legs trying to close around his head, but he holds your inner thighs, keeping them spread. 

You’re not going to last very long, not with him alternating between sucking at your clit and swirling his tongue around it like that. He’s done this before, and you can’t help the momentary spike of jealousy at the thought of him between any other omega’s thighs now that he has you. 

“Gonna cum!” You whine, hips bucking against his face. 

“Yeah? Gonna make a mess all over my face?” He groans. 

You curse, your back arching as he continues to work you up, hands fisting his sheets. 

“That’s it.” He groans against your clit, dragging his teeth over the sensitive bud. “Be a good omega for me.” 

You cum with a cry, soaking his chin as he continues to tease you. He laps at your juices, not slowing any as he works you through your orgasm, even as you begin to shake with overstimulation. 

“I-I can’t.” You gasp, the burning feeling starting to pulse through you as he continues to suck at your clit. It’s quickly becoming too much, the feeling overwhelming you. 

Ghost’s words flash through your mind at that moment, his suggestion yesterday while you both spent time in the rec room reading. You reach down, sinking your fingers into Johnny’s mohawk, gripping the short strands. He lets out a groan as you tug, pulling his face from your pussy finally. His chin is glistening with your release, his tongue darting out to lick your juices from his lips. 

He follows as you tug upwards, drawing him away from your pussy. He crawls up your body until you’re almost face to face, your fingers still tangled in his hair. 

“I said that’s enough.” You say, slightly breathless from your orgasm, but you put as much authority in your tone as you can manage. 

“Yes ma’am.” He practically whines, the muscles in his arms flexing as he sinks his own fingers into the sheets around you. 

The sudden shift in control has something buzzing in your brain, the back of your neck tingling. You’re an omega. You’re not supposed to be in control, and yet, here Johnny is, practically folding in front of you. A thrill shoots through your veins at the thought of what you could make him do, what lengths he’d go to for you simply because you have him in this position. 

“Take your clothes off.” You say, releasing his mohawk. 

He sits back without complaint, tugging his shirt over his head. You take him in, the hard lines of his muscles, the dark hair on his chest, the line disappearing under the waistband of his pants. You lick your lips as he undoes the button on his pants, undoing the zipper before tugging them down with his boxers. 

His cock is hard and practically standing at attention as he kicks his pants off. He’s slightly smaller than John, but not by much. Your pussy clenches at the thought of him inside you, but you’re not ready for that quite yet. You guide Johnny back up to your face, pressing your lips against his. You can taste yourself on him, making him groan as you lick into his mouth. 

You guide him onto his back, trading places with him. He settles beneath you, his hands lifting to your hips, but you push them back as you pull away. You smirk down at him for a moment before you move, changing your position so you’re facing away from him. You trap his hands against the bed with your legs like Ghost showed you, sitting yourself on his taut stomach. He has a clear view of your ass still sporting your lacy panties, your wet folds pressed against his skin. 

“Simon show ye that one?” He asks, flexing his hands under you. He could easily overpower you and free himself, but he doesn’t.

“Uh huh.” You say, wrapping your hand around his cock. 

“Hells bells, what are you two gettin’ into during trainin’?” He groans, obviously starting to picture the lewd things you and Ghost might be doing. You wonder how he’d react to seeing you on top of Ghost like you were yesterday. 

“He’s just teaching me how to defend myself.” You say, slowly pumping his cock. “I’m finding there’s not much of a difference between fucking and fighting.” 

Johnny lets out another groan, but you’re not sure if it’s because of your words, or your hand on his cock. You continue to pump his length, feeling the softness of him in your hand, squeezing gently to feel the vein running along the bottom side. Johnny lets out a choked groan, hands twitching again under your legs. 

“Fuck, I cannae last much longer.” He gasps desperately, his length twitching in your hand. 

Pearly white beads of precum have begun to slip from his tip, and you can’t help but lean down and drag your tongue across his head, gathering some in your mouth. He lets out a whine that rivals ones of your own, his hips bucking as he gets closer and closer to his own orgasm. 

“Please, kitten, let me cum inside ye.” He begs, pulling his hands free from underneath you so he can grip your hips. 

You pull away from his cock, sitting up on his stomach. He’s panting, his fingers digging into the skin of your hips. You shift yourself again, turning back around to face him. His eyes are hooded as he stares at you, pupils blown with lust. His lips are parted as he pants, sweat beading on his forehead from the strain of holding himself back. You push yourself back until you’re hovering over his cock, pulling your panties to the side with one hand, grabbing his length with the other. 

You groan as you sink down onto him, bracing yourself with a hand on his stomach as he stretches you open. His hands settle on your waist, squeezing your hips as you work yourself down his length. 

“Fuck,” You breathe, pressing your hands against his abs as you sink down completely onto his cock, your hips flush with his. 

“So fucking tight and warm,” He groans, his grip near bruising around your hips. “Fucking feel fantastic, kitten.” 

You slowly begin rocking your hips, using your hands on his stomach for leverage. Your toes are curling already from this angle, the tip of his cock brushing that spot deep inside you with every rock of your hips. Small whines and whimpers leave your lips as you fuck yourself on his cock, squeezing your legs around his hips. They’re shaking already, and you know you won’t last long in this position. 

Johnny seems to notice that as well, his grip on your hips tightening as he starts to guide your movements. You’re starting to sweat from the effort, your thighs burning, but it feels too good to stop. You’re getting close again, the stretch of him inside you paired with the high of having such control over him just a few moments ago driving you closer and closer to the edge. 

Johnny pushes himself up as your movements begin to slow, wrapping his arms around you to shift you in his lap, laying you down on the bed facing the footboard as he slots himself over you. He takes over, thrusting into you, setting a frantic pace. Your head falls back as he pounds into you, your back arching as he folds his body over yours, pressing his face into your neck. 

“Gonna cum for me? Need tae feel ye squeezing ‘round my cock.” He grunts, nipping at the skin of your throat. 

You let out a whimper, nails digging into his shoulders. “Just like that.” You pant, squeezing your legs around his hips. “Don’t stop!” 

“Yes, ma’am.” He groans, continuing to rut into you like your pussy is the only thing that can save his life. 

You practically see stars as you cum, squeezing around his cock as pleasure jolts through your body like electricity. Your hips buck against his, grinding together like some sort of forbidden dance as he’s forced into his own orgasm by your walls squeezing around him. His hips stutter before he stills, warmth spurting into you as he cums. You hold him there, his body trembling with yours as he groans into your throat. 

“Fucking hell.” He moans, starting to shallowly thrust into you. He’s still hard, his cock dragging through your sensitive walls as he continues to fuck you despite having just orgasmed. “Never gonnae tire of this sweet cunt.” 

He probably won’t, you think as he continues to slowly thrust into you again. 

You’re in for a long night. 

NEXT ->

Taglist:

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[fauustic]

late night bubble bath

((oh yeah the brainrot has hit HARD!!! IM IN LOVE!!! please send me asks / requests about miguel o’hara i might just melt ...))

gender-nonconforming reader x miguel “spider-man 2099″ o’hara

comfort, fluff. a needy miguel who is just a big kitty.

warnings: mention of wounds, very little blood. taking care of him after a night of insomnia. use of spanish pet names, yet a translator helped me because my spanish isn’t the best. lmk if i missed anything!

word count: 3027

A sigh escapes your lips as you shakily grasp the cup of water along your bedside table. You weren't one to have intense insomnia, yet the anxiety bubbling within your gut served as a painful reminder that you haven't been blessed with a moment of shuteye.

Was it something you had forgotten? You ran through a mental checklist that consisted of taking after Miguel's late nights, and not a single chore was unfinished.

Leftovers for dinner could be found neatly packed away in the place he always checks in the fridge, so there was no need for your love returning from work hungry and tired. Today's laundry was already fluffed and ironed, which will make it easier to begin the upcoming morning. Miguel mentioned off-handedly to you how an important board meeting at his lab had been stressing him out, so you couldn't help but surprise him when he got back home even if it was just prepared outfits.

You leaned back against your pillow before rolling towards Miguel's side of your queen sized bed. You felt so jumpy, your hands itching to do anything. Nights like these you craved Miguel's presence tenfold, as he would be snuggled right in your arms, smoothing the stress out from the tips of your fingers through a careful massage. You could remember the sleepy rambles he'd murmur into the air over the ambience of the television, "Pasar tiempo contigo, brillante. Encantador. Mi pequeño amor. Could bask in your presence always, mi conejito." Miguel would whisper into your ears with a cute sleepiness, peppering your jaw with his lips. It's almost as if he was right beside you, brushing his thumb against your skin as he held your hands.

Thinking so fondly of your boyfriend's habits soothed the anxiety of your insomnia as you tried to remind yourself that he always stays safe and remembers you love him. Once coming home for the first time from work, he can't help but smother you in kisses and silly pet names, showering you in soft reminders of how much love and affection he has for you. And then the second time of the night, he'd do the same thing under different circumstances. It had happened the night before, and it'll happen again. 

Miguel, soft groans escaping his bruised lips, would come through the balcony of your shared apartment that stored your little collection of flowers and greenery, slip through the door you always made sure to crack, and wake you up in the dead of the night to be bandaged and treated by your caring touch with hushed pleas. Whispering sweet things, neediness in every touch. "I missed you, cariño. Been waiting to see your pretty face all day, can I kiss you? P-please, let me kiss you." 

And so you did, resting your fingers on his shoulders and slowly trailing up until they cupped his bloodied face by the jaw. Then, you'd painstakingly kiss him until his blood would mix with spit, his fangs desperately wanting to sink into your tongue. 

Getting so caught up in your little dream, the blaring of a shrill beeping car down below your apartment startled you. Interrupting the glass upon your lips, it spilled onto your nightgown with a gasp.

"Fuck.." you mumbled to yourself, missing your boyfriend more than ever. Changing in a rush, you pulled over one of his flimsy lounge shirts over your head to bask in his smell as a reminder of his presence.

Nueva York was a city that didn't sleep, as the chatter of passersby rang through busy traffic. Bars down below thrived under the limelight, people not in their right mind hid in the shadows of skyscrapers. 

You wondered what Miguel could be doing right now. Scouting the vibrant lights as his claws dug into the beam of a building? Knocking someone senseless under the conditions of justice? Saving a civilian as they fall from great heights? 

Wondering made you sick, the anxiety bubbling in your stomach as if you were the one downing margaritas and cocktails in a scummy bar down below. You needed to distract yourself. So you did anything an adult on a late night would do.

So when you finally came to your senses, you slapped a flour dusted hand over your mouth and groaned.

Apron tied to your waist, hair in a loose bun– nothing too serious, in fact you appreciated how this style still kept your androgynous but still staying practical. Wisps of hair straying from the hold would cloud your vision every now and then, which you'd have to blow out of the way subconsciously while preparing the whipped frosting. The TV, distantly able to still be heard from the living room, echoed quietly through the apartment with an ambience that lulled you to a calm. It was the news, you couldn't help yourself due to late night paranoia, but your hands were busy and your attention was snatched away from your beloved creation.

You've truly outdone yourself this time, you decide as you watch the oven in front of you with an exhausted gaze and a yawn. The kitchen was messy with egg residue and splashes of water and vinegar oil, the clock on the microwave read "2:49" in the morning. It was a kind of chaos you normally wouldn't find yourself to, as Miguel loved a schedule, a routine. It wasn't as if he didn't want you to have your fun, far from that, he simply just loved doing whatever was eventful with you. And you couldn't help but find baking amusing as you observed the small cakes in the shaped pans inflate as time went on.

You found yourself in the middle of your small apartment kitchen floor, sleepily peering into the oven until that sleepiness shifted into fully dozing off. It couldn't be helped, crashing so hard after pulling off a mission to pump out more than a dozen cupcakes, half chocolate batter and the rest strawberry flavoring. Thankfully, you were able to stay awake long enough to take the cakes out to cool, but as soon as the oven made the beep to turn off– the couch was the closest thing to fall into a needed rest.

It's hard to know how long you had exactly fallen asleep for, yet the frantic arms encompassing your form must have been any kind of indicator. It was a startle to wake from, as your mouth couldn't keep quiet before your brain began working. 

"Eeugh! I- God Miguel, you scared me so badly–" You heaved into his shoulder as he practically slumped on top of you, whispering his usual panicky tangents he'd spew after returning from his late nights. 

"Lo siento, lo siento mucho." Miguel buried his face into your neck, nose pushing against your pulse. "Would never purposely scare you, mi lucero del alba. But not seeing you in bed, that made me feel… not like myself." Miguel confessed with a shaky breath and a pause, breathing in the floury smell and just you, swearing a purr erupted from his throat. "Would have fallen on the floor of our apartment if you weren't here, in my arms.  "Te necesito más que al propio aire, baby."

A subtle smile peeked through his tone despite the desperation, the longing in his touch. His forearms pushed against your back ever so slightly, reminding himself that you're here. That you're safe. His hands met your sides, thumbs circling in a soothing motion. You knew it calmed him down to trace shapes within your skin, but you wouldn't be lying if you said you loved the burn of his touch when he isn't even truly doing anything on purpose. It was as if the warmth of his finger tips ignited into flames, searing his touch into you. You'll never be able to forget each circle, heart, or even a very rare star traced into your skin, accompanying every freckle or birthmark you have. Every part of you is adored, loved, cherished. 

"I'm going to be here, waiting for you. No matter where you are or where I have to be."

"I hope so." Miguel hummed, "If anything happens to you," His claws found themselves underneath his shirt that you wore to bed that night, trailing your sides like handing a delicate doll. "Tengo miedo de lo que pueda hacerles. For you I'd do anything." 

His body didn't feel suffocating to be lying beneath, as he cradled the both of you to be meeting halfway. It was heartwarming, being clung to like a teddy bear by a man who's trying to hold up an entire city with his own two hands.

You realized his suit was only partially off, head uncovered as well as part of his chest– the suit clung to his waist like a lifeline. Needing to see his soft little smile that he held so selfishly against your neck, you led his face to be held over yours. A soft whine escaped his lips, missing the warmth your neck provided, but a quick hush quieted himself easily.

"Don't act like a sad puppy, my love." You whispered into his lips, breath fanning an old cut just underneath. Inspecting the damage, Miguel's eyes fluttered shut as you smoothed over the stress lines between his eyebrows. Not too rough today, expect a few cuts and bruises. So in your terms and conditions, today may even be considered a great day. "Aww, look at you. You did so well today, didn't you?" Awarding him with a kiss, Miguel melted into you like a weighted blanket.

Both hands cupping his jaw, you held him there for a long while, relishing in the moments of peace and quiet with him. Peppering quick, feathery kisses over his lips and gliding over cheekbones and freckles upon the nose, kissing the stress line you smoothed out, before doing the routine all over again. You strayed, always did– couldn't resist his alluring features and soft pleas to continue kissing him. 

Miguel isn't always so docile. Some nights he'd storm into your bedroom in a trance of pent-up frustration and stress with bruising kisses and bites that took home amongst hidden skin. But most nights, he could be handled like putty. It was an adorable sight to see, as his fangs peeked through his plush lips from the tension going slack in his jaw.

Your lips finally met his for the first time that night, yet it wasn't heated or filled with ulterior motives. Miguel's mouth met yours, and he lazily tasted every inch of your mouth, grazing his fangs against your tongue by accident. He needed to know every inch of you, and remind himself a hundred times over.

"Miggy.." you mumbled between his kisses, and happiness dripped from your voice as he barely let out a "mm?" Separating for just a moment, he decided to simply nuzzle your hand as a substitute.

"Let me run you a bath."

This sparked his attention, a quirk of the eyebrow and a stare of disbelief. "Eh?" Miguel chuckled stiffly, his nuzzles coming to an abrupt end. "¿Qué piensas de mí, un niño pequeño? I'm no toddler." By his response, he hasn't heard such things in ages. But as you slipped away from underneath his grasp, you padded towards your shared bathroom without a word. He was the one to bicker, but once the plan was in motion Miguel couldn't help but abide with a light begrudge in his step.

"The little cakes can wait, honey. Don't try to use those as an argument to get out of this." Your words would come out as a scold to anyone else, but as you turned to start the water it was clear you simply just cared. Too much for your own good. "Let me just do this for you, I missed you today." You admitted. 

"It's too late for this still, cariño." He groaned with a tint of guilt as you started helping him undress. "I'll just shower, go on. Vete a dormir." Yet he did not swat away your advancements to prepare a towel, nor even the drop of bubble bath mix in the water. Miguel looked at you like a deer in headlights, mouth agape as you did so.

"I added the bubble bath formula only because you told me to sleep." You said deadpan, grabbing the suit that's fallen to the floor to hang it on the rack. Miguel's expressions contorted to annoyed, then shocked, to just downright amused of your antics that always had him guessing. He cackled as you kept yourself busy, until you finally signaled to get in.

It was as if you tried to get a cat in the water, as he stared at the mountain of bubbles that rivalled the skies. "I'm not getting in. I can't lose the rest of my dignity." This time, his tone was solid– nothing sounded as if it could get through to him. But you could read your boyfriend like a book, solve him like a puzzle in a matter of seconds. 

"Miggy, my love. My other half. My everything." You cooed, dropping to your knees to poke at the bubbles. "You don't get in this forsaken bathtub with just the right warmth and the bubbles I made with my own blood, sweat and tears, you will sleep on the couch until I give you explicit permission to lay with me." His scarlet eyes glowed with genuine fear in his eyes. "And then, you will just lie with me. You would not be able to hold my hands or waist or twirl your finger around my hair– you will be in timeout. No bed, no holding–"

A splash interrupted your words, wetting your legs as his size struggled to stay in the tub. His arm hung out of the side as his feet kicked up on the tile walls, and he looked as flustered as ever. "No me lo puedo creer." Miguel blew at the bubbles that settled on his face. "I'm no dog who needs a bath, cariño." 

Shaking your head at his rare childish antics, you leaned over the tub to kiss the bubbles upon his nose. It was a sweet, domestic little moment between the two of you.

Small little scars littered his form as you glided a soft wash cloth over the grime of the city that washed off onto him. When the fabric slid over a sensitive muscle or wound, he'd hiss a curse and a "be gentle with me, love." You only responded with a lick into his mouth, which earned you a bite to your lips. "I'm not trying to hurt you, just wanna take care of you, my angel." You whispered into the bubbles, shuffling your knees the closest you can to the tub without falling into it– and massaged the tension in his shoulders.

This elicited a groan to rip through the bathroom walls, a low rumble that he couldn't contain to himself following. Miguel was like a domesticated tiger, all bark and bite yet the rare moments of silly tenderness peeking through his rough exterior. "Ah, that feels–" Miguel hisses again in pleasure, his brain short circuiting under your graze. ".. increíble. Tú eres mi medicina." 

His forearm hanging off the side of the tub twisted to bring his grasp to your face, locking the both of you into a heated kiss, one that stored the unspoken words of lonely nights as Miguel's shifts grew longer and more tiresome. "Missed you, baby. I need you, need you always with me. Wouldn't know what to do without you, I'd go crazy." He rambled as one of your soap filled hands snaked into his hair, to lather his curls and simultaneously scratch where he loves. 

It was an endearing sight whenever Miguel openly expressed his adoration of you, both his thoughts and worries.

"I love you more, Miguel." You giggled as his nose scrunched together at the abrupt sensation of water cascading over his head, the bubbles falling from the softness of his hair and down the ridges of his jaw and nose.

Silence comfortably enveloped the two of you as you rinsed him off, scattering kisses on his skin whenever he mumbled declarations of affection.

As you wrapped his curls in a soft, small towel, his sleepy grumble of a question caught your attention. "What about your little sweets, mi amor? Do you need me to help you finish them?"

Laughing, you shook your head only to shush him softly. "No, no baby. Let's just do it together tomorrow once you get some rest." Leading him to stand, you began draining the tub. 

Miguel didn't argue with the idea of that, purring softly as he imagined the two of you frosting little delicacies– something incredibly cozy and lovely. He loved that about you, the way you reminded him about his own humanity, the little hanging reminder that he needs his own time to help to heal and thrive. 

"All done, baby." You slid your arms around his waist, resting your head against his chest with a sigh. The towel hung around his waist was as soft as the fleece of a sheep, lulling you into the serene sleepiness your body craved to have. "How was your bubble bath?" The words tumbled from your lips as Miguel led the both of you to your shared bed, tucking you into the bundle of blankets scattering about. 

Before long, he slid into the opposite side with his own sigh of relief. Your hands grabbed at his now clothed chest, peeking at his exhausted, but content expression staring right back at your own. "Perfect, mi conejito." Miguel whispered with honesty, bringing you closer than ever as his breath fanned the crook of your neck.

Sleep began to take you as the strong scent of bubblegum flooded your senses, the slightly damp curls of Miguel tickling your neck and cheek. He intertwined his soul with yours, purring with a calm he could only achieve with you.

"Cupcakes tomorrow?" You murmured into his shoulder, soft and sleepy.

"Cupcakes tomorrow, cariño." A kiss to your neck. "Dulces sueños, goodnight."

[l0v3-stay]

MINI YOU.

Pairing: P. Sh. x Reader

Genre: Smut, Fluff

Warnings/Tags: SoftDom!Hoon, Hoon and reader have a child, Lots of fluff, smut, fluffy smut, anniversary, cuddles, lingerie, aftercare, oral (f. recieving), protected sex, p in v, lots of kissing, neck kissing, true love, just soft, porn with feelings and plot. lmk if I missed anything! ^^

Word count: 4.3k

A/N: AYY This is my first smut so forgive me if it sucks! :,D Hope y'all enjoy this anyway! Please feel free to give me advice and feedback in the comments so I can improve, I highly appreciate that! Requests are also highly appreciated! :3 Have fun reading this and remember to eat, drink a lot of water and stay healthy! <3

P.S, If you don't like this, don't read!

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

 “Mom, is that really how you and dad met?” 

You simply nodded, humming softly, while gently tucking him into bed. Sunghoon stood behind you, a fond smile on his face as he watched you take care of your child. You gave the kid a soft peck on his forehead and stood up, turning the lights off before leaving along with Sunghoon, closing the door behind you.

As soon as you closed the door, you felt two strong hands wrap gently around your waist, a nose nuzzle into your neck and his breath fanning over your soft, sensitive skin. Your hands slowly come to rest on top of Sunghoon’s on your stomach, your fingers entwining in the cutest way possible.

“It’s our anniversary tomorrow” He whispered against your neck and you could feel a smile forming on his lips, his hot breath fanning over your skin as he buried his face in the warm spot between your neck and your shoulder.

“I know, love” You answered, your thumb tracing gentle patterns on the back of his hand as he held you close, his palm on your tummy. “Let’s head to sleep?” You asked softly while you yawned, exhausted from the long day of work.

You got a day off tomorrow since it’ll be yours and Sunghoon’s 5th anniversary. It had been 5 years since you two got together under those beautiful fireworks, the 10th december. You had gotten pregnant after about a year and gave birth to a beautiful boy that was now a 4-year-old. He often asked you about how you and Hoon met, and you always told him the whole story in vivid detail.

You knew tomorrow would be a special day: Not only did you get a day off, but one of the other members of your group promised to bring your son to her parents’ house for the day so he could play with her little brother after Kindergarten. 

You and Sunghoon did your night routine silently, just enjoying each other’s presence. It always felt like it was the first time you slept together in the same bed at that sleepover at his dorm, butterflies in your stomach and your heart racing. 

You two went to bed, his arms instantly wrapping around your waist, his body spooning you, keeping you warm and safe, just like that first night.

Since you two got together and moved in together, sleeping in the same bed every night, you stopped having problems with your insomnia. You stopped taking your melatonin pills and still slept amazingly in his embrace. 

It was like he made your whole life better, like he was your medicine.

You two quickly fell asleep cuddled up against each other, his face buried in your hair and his chest pressed firmly, yet in a comforting way, against your back. 

—-------------------------

Your Given-Taken alarm woke you up at 7, signaling you that you had to help your lovely child to get ready for kindergarten and then get ready yourself before bringing him there. 

You rubbed the sleep off your eyes and looked at Sunghoon. His pale skin looked like honey with the soft sun rays passing through the curtains on the window of your room, casting a soft glow over him, highlighting his features in a perfect, unreal way. 

You admired him for a couple moments before getting up lazily, making sure not to wake him up. You made your way to the bathroom and got dressed before heading to the kitchen to make breakfast. As soon as you were done, you went to wake your son up. 

“Hey sweetie, wake up” You whispered, pampering him with kisses all over his sleeping face until he woke up with a soft whine. You picked him up and made your way to the bathroom with him. You dressed him up and then went with him to have breakfast. All of this while Sunghoon was peacefully sleeping.

After breakfast, you took your son’s bunny-shaped backpack and took his tiny hand in yours, walking with him outside and to the kindergarten. He jumped happily as you held his hand, his smile the same as Sunghoon’s, white teeth with pretty, vampire-like fangs. He also had the same moles as Sunghoon, reminding you about your beloved boyfriend every time you looked at him.

As you reached the kindergarten, you gave him his small bag and pecked his forehead gently. “I’ll see you tonight then, okay Sweetheart?”

“Yes mommy!” He said, giggling as he waved at you and rushed to play with his friends as the teachers kept an eye on them. You made your way to a nearby cafe where you thought of buying some pastries to bring to Sunghoon. 

As you arrived there, you chose two pretty cupcakes with strawberry icing and heart-shaped, red sprinkles. You asked the baker to add two cherries on top before paying and making your way to a nearby jewelry store to pick up the gift you ordered for Sunghoon: a necklace with a heart-shaped pendant, on it there was written “Mon coeur t'appartient”, which meant “My heart is yours” in french.

You walked home with the two boxes, sneaking in and hiding them right away before looking for Sunghoon.

He was nowhere to be found…

When you started to get worried, though, you heard someone call you from the kitchen, and luckily it was Sunghoon.

You quickly rushed there just to find him cooking for you. 

“What are you doing?” You asked, clearly confused. He just turned around to face you, wrapping his arms around you, pulling you flush against his chest, burying his face in your neck with a smile.

“Happy anniversary, princess” He spoke against your neck, and you could feel him smiling even without being able to look at him directly. You smiled too, your chest swelling with love and warmth, your heart filled to the brim.

“Happy anniversary” You repeated with a smile, your arms wrapping around him too, his scent enveloping you along with his warmth. You glanced behind him at the stove and patted his back while chuckling, “Love, those veggies are going to burn” 

He quickly turned around and checked on them with a laugh before speaking softly, “Go check what I left between your makeup products”

You looked at him with a confused face but went to check anyway. You made your way to the bathroom and checked your makeup bag, taking everything out of it just to find a piece of paper at the bottom. It was neatly folded and it was of a soft, baby pink color.  You unfolded it, and inside there was written “Go check where you keep your jewels    -Sunghoon”.

You made your way to the kitchen with the note in your hand, a soft smile on your face as you showed it to him. “Hoonie, what is this?” You asked with a chuckle. 

“Go find out” He simply shrugged with a small giggle, and you made your way to your room jumping like a kid when you bring them to a luna park. 

When you reached your room, you opened the small drawer beneath your desk where you kept your jewelry box. You opened it and there you found another baby pink-coloured note saying: “Come check in my pockets     -Sunghoon”.

You laughed and rushed back to the kitchen, the notes shoved in your own pockets. Now you understand why your son liked treasure hunts so much, they were really fun. 

As soon as you reached the kitchen, you rushed to Sunghoon and shoved your hands in the pockets of his jeans while laughing as he squirmed, getting ticklish.

“Y/N IT TICKLES!” He laughed, squirming all over. The sound of his laughter being one of the sweetest noises you’ve ever heard. You finally found the note and pulled your hands away from him.

You looked at him with a satisfied face before opening the note, all this while he looked at you with pure love, adoration and affection in his eyes. “Look under the bed      -Sunghoon” was written in the note.

You rush back to your bedroom and look under the bed, there was another note along with a small key. You opened the piece of paper delicately, inside, there was written “Look in the locket drawer in the kitchen    -Sunghoon”.

You jumped all the way back to the kitchen, where he was putting the food he made in two plates. He made noodles with veggies (Yum), one of your favorite foods. As soon as you entered the kitchen once again, he looked at you with loving eyes, a smile on his face as he saw your happiness, his dimples showing along with his vampire-teeth, the teeth and dimples you grew to love more and more every day. 

You took the small key and unlocked the lock that kept the drawer closed before opening it, curious about what you’ll find there. Inside the drawer, there was a bag along with a note. The bag was closed and on top of the note there was a pretty, white rose, your favorite flower. You took the note and glanced up at Hoon, who was already looking at you, with a smile before opening it.

“Already 5 years together, huh? Remember that 10th December in which we kissed under the fireworks? I didn’t know that day things would change this much, but they surely changed in an amazing way. Before that day, I couldn’t stop talking about you to Sunoo and Jungwon, they kept telling me that I would’ve eventually found someone LIKE you, but I wanted YOU. Your flaws, your mistakes, your insecurities and your perfections, because in my eyes, you ARE perfect. You have a place in my heart no one else could have, and when we met, I didn’t think you would become this important to me. I fell in love with you because of the million things you didn’t know you were doing. I chose you, and I always will choose you, over and over again. Without a pause, without a doubt, in a heartbeat. I’ll keep choosing you. You make me happy in a way no one else can. For me, Home is in your arms. 

(Fuck butterflies, when I’m with you I feel the whole zoo)       -Sunghoon”

Tears quickly formed in your eyes as your hands covered your mouth in pure, utter joy. 

You jump up and throw your arms around his neck, wanting to feel him close, his touch, his warmth, his everything. You just wanted to be close to Sunghoon.

Like you wished you were when you saw him in all those clips on YouTube.

Sunghoon’s arms instinctively wrapped around you, his hands gently caressing your back as your tears soaked his shirt, your hands gripping the fabric behind his back as if he was going to disappear if you let go.

“What did I even do to be with someone like you?” You asked between tears. Sunghoon was truly special to you, he was your life and your future, you everything. And you felt it in your soul, in your heart, you meant it. You loved him, and you knew you were truly happy. 

“I don’t know, I just saw you and fell in love. I don’t know how, when or why, I just did” He whispered softly, his hands still rubbing soothing circles into your back, the small touch electrifying and calming at the same time.

It has been YEARS since you two had sex. It felt like an eternity. The last time you did was when you got pregnant, so about 4 years ago, and saying you were touch-deprived would be an understatement. Even his smallest touches turned you on, making you SO needy SO easily. But you could never do anything about it as you two had a kid. How were you supposed to have sex with him with your child around?

You felt a small shiver run down your spine at the thought that this one might be the right night to finally get that love-making session with Hoon that you’ve been craving for so freaking long.

“Are you cold, baby?” He asked you, snapping you out of your thoughts and back grounded to reality. You gently shook your head before you heard him giggle softly, knowing he was smirking at you. But why was he smirking?

“Open your gift” He whispered directly in your ear, his hot, minty breath hitting the side of your neck deliciously as goosebumps raised on your skin. You took the bag and opened it. Inside, you found something you never expected from Sunghoon. The past anniversaries he gave you cute and cuddly things such as teddy bears, plushies or matching pajamas. But this, you didn’t expect this.

A set of white, angel-like lingerie.

You looked up at him with red cheeks, holding up the soft pieces of fabric.

He just looked at you with a smirk, his eyes dark yet filled with love and adoration. “Go try them on” He said, his voice seductive, making your heart race. You made your way to the bathroom, your heart beating so fast you were scared it was going to explode. 

You slowly took off your clothes, replacing them with the pretty lingerie.

It consisted of a pair of lace-up, white panties decorated with lace, two small bows that kept everything up on your hips, keeping the strings attached, and a matching lace-up, white bra, this one also decorated with lace and bows. 

You looked at yourself in the mirror just to see how your ass was basically completely exposed, but your breasts and front were covered just as much as needed to make any man struggle to not just rip them off of you.

You could’ve just taken them off and gotten back dressed, Sunghoon never asked you to show him how you looked in that sexy lingerie set. But you didn’t. You wanted to tease him, to make him go crazy.

So you made your way back to the kitchen like that.

He was leaning against the counter, checking his phone, not really paying attention to the surroundings. 

But when you called his name and he looked up,

His attention was solely on you.

“How do I look?” You asked with a small smile, the most annoyingly cute and innocent expression on your face as his own jaw hung slightly open, his eyes wide and dark, filled with love and desire.

“Fuck you look stunning” He said, somehow sounding breathless. He took long strides and reached you in a millisecond, his arms wrapping around your waist as he whispered in your ear “My beautiful angel, so pretty for me”

Your cheeks heated up, butterflies in your stomach as you felt yourself dripping already, and he hadn’t even done anything yet. 

“Tell me what you want, sweetheart” He whispered again, his hands now resting on your hips, his thumbs drawing small circles on them, causing your walls to clench around nothing.

“You” You replied shakily, feeling his fingers slowly slide underneath the strings of your panties on your hips, your breath getting stuck in your throat.

He picked you up in bridal style, walking to your shared bedroom hurriedly and gently laying you down on the bed, hovering over you as soon as your body hit the soft, warm sheets.

His lips trailed from the side of your mouth to your cheek, then your jawline and down your neck, leaving a hot, flaming trail in their wake. Your breathing was heavy, your cheeks flushed a soft shade of red and goosebumps raised over your skin at the feeling of his hot breath against your now sensitive neck.

You could feel your clit pulsing already, your hands twitching with the want (Or more like NEED) to touch him, to feel his soft skin under your fingertips.

Your cheeks were flushed red as he kissed you deeply and hungrily, your tongues fighting for dominance as his hands worked on the bows keeping your panties together. He opened them and slid your panties down your legs, a shiver running down your spine as the cold air hit your core, a soft gasp escaping your lips.

“Even prettier than I remembered” He whispered in your ear, your hands now trailing down from his shoulders to his chest. Your heart was beating loudly, your hands trembling a bit, just like the first time you two were intimate with each other.

You slowly pushed him off of you and into the bed, straddling his lap with a sudden surge of confidence, his hands moving to grip your hips tightly. “It’s not fair that I’m the only one half naked here” You whispered, pouting a bit too cutely given the situation.

“Maybe if you remove your bra like a good girl I’ll take my clothes off too” He smirked in your ear, his breath teasing your skin so sweetly it was overwhelming.

Your hands quickly moved to pull at the strings keeping your bra up, throwing it somewhere in the room as soon as it came off.

“Good girl” He whispered before lifting you up effortlessly, placing you down on the bed, and taking off his own clothes.

Your jaw hung open, your mouth watering at the sight, as he pulled off his shirt, revealing his toned chest and abs. His skin was smooth, so smooth that you had to use all your willpower not to get up and lick all the way down his chest. You knew he was hot, but you didn’t remember him being THIS hot. 

You almost drooled when he let his jeans fall down to the floor, remaining only in his black boxers, his arousal clear through the thin layer of fabric.

“Like what you see?” He asked, his voice deep yet soft as he slowly laid back down, hovering over you once again. His lips attached to your neck right away, gently nibbling and sucking on the sensitive, milky skin there. Small, pleasured sighs escape your lips as his hands trailed over your body, slowly kneading the flesh of your thighs.

Your whole body quivered as he took one of your nipples into his mouth, playing with the other one with one of his hands. You exhaled in pleasure and he sighed against your skin, you could feel his own arousal pressing against your legs, it felt so hard you wondered if it hurt for him to stay like that.

Your own core was aching more and more with the need to be touched, you were dripping wet, your walls clenching around nothing as your clit pulsed with need.

His mouth slid down your body sensually, moving from your chest to your stomach and down to your hip bones. His hands caressed your quivering waist, rubbing up and down soothingly…

…Until his hands slid down to the backside of your thighs, easily spreading them and pushing your knees up to your chest, his breath hovered over your soaking pussy as he looked up at you with the most innocent look in his eyes, a small, satisfied smile on his lips and his pupils blown, dilated. 

“Please” you murmured breathlessly, throwing your head back against the pillows as soon as Sunghoon licked a long stripe between your thighs. Your lips parted in pure ecstasy at the feeling of his soft, wet tongue against you, his plump lips working magic on you.

“Fuck you taste so good” He murmured against your skin his hot breath sending shivers down your spine as your hips bucked up involuntarily, seeking more of his sweet mouth on you. 

He held your hips down as he got back to work, alternating nibbling and sucking on your clit with subtle slips of his tongue inside of you, teasing your plushy walls delicately.

Your moans got louder and your breathing heavier as the coil in your stomach tightened more and more, he could feel you pulsating against his mouth, his thumbs rubbing slow circles on your hips as he slurped you up like you were his last meal on this hearth.

It felt like time had slowed down, shockwaves of pleasure running through your body as you came, creaming on Sunghoon’s tongue as he lapped up everything you gave him like it was the purest essence on this hearth.

It took you some minutes to get down from your mind blowing orgasm, your breathing still heavy and your heart still beating hard and fast.

Sunghoon slowly came up from between your legs, licking up the remnants of your pleasure from his lips, his chin and cheeks still glistening with your arousal.

He felt himself twitch at the sight of your fucked out face, legs still shaking lightly due to the aftershocks of your climax.

“Fuck you’re making me insane” He whispered as he lowered himself on you, skin against skin, his face buried in the crook of your neck as he inhaled, taking in your scent like it was the only thing keeping him alive in that moment.

You could feel his hardness against your leg, and damn it was hard rock. You could feel a bit of stickiness caused by his precum soaking his boxers and that was enough to send heat back rushing through your veins.

“Doesn’t it hurt, love?” You asked him with the sweetest, most innocent voice ever and he couldn’t help but grind against your leg, a shaky breath going past his lips and hitting the heated skin of your neck.

He simply nodded, choking back a small whine of desperation as his hips grinded against your leg again.

You slowly caressed his shoulders as he hid his face in the crook of your neck, leaving small, messy kisses there.

“Can I make love to you, please?” He asked, his voice whinier than he intended it to be.

He was about to speak again but you shut him up by kissing him, nodding lightly into the kiss and melting in his arms when you felt him smile in it.

“I’ll make you feel so good I promise…” He whispered, his hands slowly moving back to your thighs and spreading them open again before leaning over you to grab a condom from your bedside table.

“I don’t think you want another mini version of me running around the house, do you?” He asked with a chuckle as he took off his boxers and slipped the condom on his length. Just as you were about to answer he made you silent by passionately kissing your lips, his tongue sliding over the seam of your mouth gently, seeking entrance.

As you finally pull apart from that kiss, he slowly lines his member with your entrance, gently teasing your folds with his tip. He looks up at you for permission, and when you nod, you feel your heart stopping at the fond smile forming on his face.

He slowly pushed inside you, biting back a moan at how tight, hot and wet you were.

You gripped his shoulders to ground yourself, your eyes rolling to the back of your head at the pleasure of being filled by him again after so long.

He thrusted inside you while whispering sweet words and praises in your ear, the pleasure building up quickly for both of you, his gentle thrusts to let you adjust soon turning into harder ones meant to pleasure you both.

He caressed your thighs and hips as you started shaking slightly from the pleasure, your lips parted and eyes hooded.

“You look so pretty, you always do” He whispered breathlessly in your ear, peppering soft kisses all over your jawline and neck before moving to your cheek and forehead.

“I love you so much” He added, his voice turning shakier with pleasure as he started to feel you clenching hard around him, signaling your second climax getting closer, “I’m the luckiest man alive to have you, my angel” he murmured, moaning softly in your ear, one of the most heavenly sounds you’ve ever heard.

“I love you” You muttered, out of breath, as your orgasm approached.

You came before you could warn him, moaning his name over and over again like a mantra, your nails digging into the skin of his back and shoulders and your juices coating his member.

“Fuck- Cumming-” He choked out, filling the condom with his hot, sticky seed, riding out both of your orgasms and whispering more praises to you.

“You did so well, love” He muttered, slowly pulling out of you, making sure not to hurt you as he did so. He rolled the condom off of himself before throwing it into a nearby trash can.

You laid there, out of breath, your body quivering with the aftershocks of your second orgasm, your body spent.

He left for some minutes while you caught your breath, the sticky feeling caused by your juices between your legs becoming uncomfortable.

He came back, his arms gently wrapping around your waist and legs. “I prepared the bathtub, it's filled with warm water and a lot of bubbles, just how you like it” He said, his voice soft and his touch gentle, warming your heart and making you forget about the uncomfortableness of your body.

He brought you to the bathroom in bridal style, sitting in the tub with you, your back pressed to his chest.

His hands gently caressed your stomach, his face buried in the crook of your neck from behind as he kept you close.

“You know,” You start, your voice soft, filled with love and fondness, “I wouldn’t mind having another mini version of you running around the house”.

[writinginatree]

I Want You More Than I Want To Die (18+)

Relationship(s): Bodhi Durran/female!marked!reader

Summary: Thank gods you have a best friend like Bodhi. Whatever you need, be it a shoulder to cry on or having the depression fucked out of you, you only need to ask and he'll give it to you.

Warnings: Depression, mentions of self-harm, suicidal thoughts and insomnia. Friends with benefits dynamic. Smut including unprotected p in v, edging, overstimulation, praise kink, forced orgasm, creampie, dumbification, dom/sub.

Inspired by IC3PEAK's song "Bad Night"

Another sleepless night.

You've had a lot of these lately, but tonight the dark thoughts in your head are especially loud. You've been fighting to drown them out all day, training twice as hard as usual to distract yourself, not allowing yourself any breaks. Turning in for the night, you'd been so exhausted you were sure sleep would come soon. But now, multiple hours later, you know better.

Your mind is racing a million miles per hour, the urge to turn one of the hard-earned daggers neatly lined up beside your bed on yourself getting stronger by the second, so you give up on the tossing and turning, swing your legs over the side of the bed and slip into your boots. You don't bother to tie them — your destination is just down the hall.

Chewing on your lip as you walk the short distance to Bodhi's room, you contemplate whether it's really worth waking him up.

Maybe you shouldn't have waited so long to seek him out. The guilt you feel about always bothering him with your problems — even though you know he doesn't consider it a bother — made you wait until you were absolutely certain sleep wouldn't come, but now it's long past what could be considered a reasonable hour to come knocking on your best friend's door. But you promised him that you would tell him when you needed anything, that you'd come to him if the demons in your head got too loud, no matter the hour.

Stopping in front of Bodhi's door, you softly knock, still hesitant to disturb him. Despite knowing he won't mind, you don't like to rob him of his sleep. After years of having your feelings invalidated by your foster family, you're still getting used to the idea that your feelings do matter, that you're allowed to feel bad, that someone cares whether or not you're okay. But Bodhi does care, you know that. He hates when you pretend to be fine even though you're not, and if you end up giving in to the need to cut yourself because you're too stubborn to seek his help, he'll blame himself when he finds out — which he will. He always does, no matter how hard you try to hide it.

You can't do that to him, so you knock again a little louder. A few seconds later the door opens and Bodhi stands before you, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, a strand of his dark curls flattened against his temple from his pillow. The heaviness in your chest eases a little at the mere sight of him. His calm presence never fails to comfort you.

He doesn't have to ask what brings you to his door so late, only opens his arms for a hug you gladly accept. You practically melt into him, blinking back tears as you realize just how much you needed this. After a few seconds he pulls away, stepping aside to let you into his room and dismissing your apology for waking him up with a smile.

"I already figured you'd show up tonight," he says, closing the door behind you. "Meant to ask if there's anything I can do to help, but you kept running off."

"Sorry. I was trying to shut my mind up by keeping busy, but... didn't really work. Was it really that obvious?"

"Only if you know what signs to look for." Bodhi gets back into bed and pulls you on top of him, letting you curl up with your head on his chest. "The usual stuff?" he asks.

You nod.

You've been struggling with depression ever since the apostasy, your parents' execution. Somehow you pushed through, long enough to make it to your second year at Basgiath, but despite what everyone used to tell you, it never got any easier.

Being in a place as deadly as the Riders Quadrant isn't exactly helpful, either. That very first day when you'd had to cross the parapet, you'd come close to just throwing yourself into the ravine below. The two hundred foot drop had seemed as good a way to go as any, and unlike the many other methods you had considered over the years, it would have looked like an accident. Just another candidate that slipped and fell. It had been Bodhi who'd stopped you — and quickly became your best friend and anchor. Walking behind you on the parapet, he'd reached where you were standing halfway across, frozen in indecision. He hadn't known why you'd stopped and stood there, and you hadn't told him — not then —, but his kindness had been enough to make you decide to live another day. When others might have simply shoved you over the edge and out of their way or barked at you to keep moving, Bodhi had remained patient, and gotten you walking again with gentle encouragement. Safely on the other side, neither of you had said a word about what had happened, talking about the quadrant and what lay ahead of you instead.

After getting assigned to the same squad, it had been a matter of days for the two of you to become so close you were practically attached at the hip most of the time.

This year, with Bodhi having been made the executive officer for Tail Section, you haven't been able to spend as much time together anymore, which is taking more of a toll on you than you care to admit. Thank the gods Bodhi makes time for you whenever he can, including in the middle of the night. Words can't express how grateful you are to have him, and you often wonder what you did to deserve someone as wonderful as him in your life.

"Tell me what you need," he says now. "Cuddles? Sex? A midnight flight?"

"Fuck my brains out, please."

He grins and kisses your forehead before flipping the both of you around so he is on top. "Gladly."

Moments later, both of your clothes are gone, and Bodhi kneels between your legs, rock-hard under the featherlight brush of your hand. His lips crash into yours in a kiss so hungry it seems he's stealing the very breath from your lungs. It's exactly what you need, and you wrap your arms around his shoulders, try to pull him closer even as he's already lying flat on top of you, his weight a comfort that anchors you in the here and now.

Not breaking the kiss, you push your hips up, grinding against him. Bodhi gets the message and slides a hand in between your bodies, moving it right to your core without hesitation. He smirks against your lips when he feels how wet you already are. As if he isn't just as turned on from just a few touches. Either way, you can't find it in you to care how pathetically desperate you sound as you beg for more.

Bodhi obliges your whines, two fingers easily sliding inside you. Slowly pumping them in and out of you, he trails kisses down your neck until he reaches your chest. His teeth graze your nipple, tongue darting out to swirl around the hardened bud. It's nice, but not nearly enough. While it can be fun to spend hours going back and forth teasing each other, you're not at all in the mood for extensive foreplay tonight.

"Bodhi," you whine. "Don't waste time being gentle. Want it rough tonight."

"Alright, alright," he chuckles, pulling his fingers from you to grab your hips and flip you around. His grip tightens, pulling you back until you get your knees under you.

You make to push yourself up on your arms, but one of Bodhi's hands goes between your shoulders, pressing you back down into the mattress. You whimper, back arching as wetness pools between your thighs. Having Bodhi manhandle you like this has got to be one of the hottest things ever, and he knows damn well that you think so — this is far from the first time you've asked him to be rough with you.

Having you ass up, face down like this seems to be his favorite position on those occasions, and while you're happy with any position that allows him to go hard and deep, you've grown rather fond of it, too. There's just something about being facedown and vulnerable, completely at his mercy, unable to look at him. The fact that any sounds you make will be muffled into the mattress is just an another bonus.

An impatient wiggle of your hips only earns you a light smack on your ass, but then, finally, Bodhi is bending over you, pushing into you while still holding your head down with one hand. He goes slow enough not to hurt you, but knows better than to still inside you to let you adjust to the stretch. After the first few gentle thrusts he picks up the pace, urged on by your pleas for more.

Your thoughts are still spinning round and round, making it difficult to focus on the physical pleasure, but you know Bodhi will take care of it. He'll gradually get rougher until he's fucking you so hard there's not a single thought left in your head. You just wish your brain would hurry up and take the hint to switch off already.

"Harder, Bodhi, please," you whine, words muffled by the mattress your face is still pressed against.

Your best friend obliges, slamming into you with all the force he can muster, which is considerable. Paired with the hand he has on your clit, it doesn't take long until heat curls in your belly, release lurking just around the corner. But Bodhi knows what it takes to turn you into a mindless puddle, and pauses just when you're about to come.

Edging is the perfect substitute for hurting yourself, and the desperation that comes with it never fails to drown out your depression. Already, the thoughts plaguing your mind seem quieter, receding just like the orgasm you'd been so close too.

Bodhi doesn't give you any warning before he starts slamming into you again, both hands gripping your hips now. The sudden action makes you yelp, clutching the dark sheets as your whole body is driven forward with every hard thrust.

"F-fuck, Bodhi!"

"Hmm? Still not rough enough for you?"

"No, 's p— ngg— perfect," you moan, head turned to the side now that he isn't holding it down anymore.

From the corner of your eye, you catch the smile on his face, a matching one involuntarily rising to your own face as his thrusts grow more fervent. You love exploiting his praise kink, to get him all riled up until he's so desperate himself that he forgets all about holding off your orgasm.

Still, he has enough self-control to edge you twice more, until you're begging him to let you come and just about ready to start crying from desperation.

"Hmm, I don't know. Are you really sure you can handle it?"

You nod with as much force as you can in your position, recognizing and ignoring what you know to be a warning that he intends to overstimulate you if he does let you come. "Yes! Please, Bodhi!"

A second later, the ability to form words momentarily leaves you as Bodhi slams back into you, rubbing your clit so fast and hard that in your worked up state you find yourself at the edge almost immediately.

And this time, he keeps going.

Your back arches, letting Bodhi go even deeper as he fucks you through your orgasm, encouraged by the moans you muffle into the mattress. His thrusts quickly become erratic — by edging you as he had, he'd inevitably edged himself, too. Just as your walls stop clenching around him, Bodhi stills and coats them in his warm cum.

It's only his hips that still, though. His hand on your clit continues at the same merciless speed, drawing an endless string of moans and whimpers from your mouth.

The sensation gets to be too much way faster than you expected. One moment you're hoping he'll keep going like this all night long, the next, you're overstimulated and sore, hips reflexively jerking away. But Bodhi holds you in place. He knows you won't want him to stop unless you say your safeword, knows if you don't it means you want him to pound you until you're nothing more than a boneless puddle, or until he can't keep going. From experience, the former is much more likely to occur first.

Already you feel tears gathering in your eyes, and what a relief it is to cry from pleasure instead of despair. Sex with Bodhi is the only time you never bother to suppress your tears, the closest you ever get to letting your emotional walls down.

It's only moments before you feel him get hard again, before he pulls out almost completely to slam back inside with even more force than he had earlier. The rhythm he sets isn't particularly fast, but the way he hits just the right spot with every brutal thrust has you shaking nonetheless.

You don't notice when the first tear rolls down your cheek and you start full-on crying, but Bodhi does.

"What are you crying for?" he mocks. "I thought you wanted it rough?"

Gods, he's good at this. With how nice and considerate he always is, you might think him a softie in bed — and he can be when the mood is right — but he can also be a fucking freak, dominating you to hell and back, all the while making it feel like heaven — just like you need him to when you're feeling the way you are tonight, like the world is a lost cause and life is worthless. You love him for that.

Not quite able to form words, you nod, bucking back into him and praying he takes it as the clue to keep going just like this that it is. Any depressing thoughts are forgotten, but you still need him to tire you out enough to fall asleep. Even if that wasn't the case, it simply feels too good to not keep going as long as you can. You'll be sore as hell in the morning, and tired, but it'll have been worth it.

"That's it," Bodhi praises when you come again. "Good girl. Just— ahh— keep coming for me."

More tears blur your vision as you muffle something between a sob and a cry into your palm, head spinning from the ceaseless stimulation.

Bodhi rubs your clit even harder, your next orgasm chasing right after the last. You writhe under the onslaught, sobs drowning out the pretty moans leaving Bodhi's mouth as he, too, loses himself in the pleasure.

He wraps a hand around your neck and pulls you upright so your back is against his chest. The pathetic mewls filling the air sound as if from far away, and you hardly register that it's you making these sounds. By now any coherent thoughts are gone from your head, replaced by blissful numbness as Bodhi pounds you into yet another orgasm.

"There you go," he praises as you shake in his arms. "Doing so well for me."

"T-too much," you whine when he shows no intention of slowing down. "Can't cum anymore, Bodhi!"

"Of course you can, baby. It hurts so good, doesn't it?"

"Mhhm, y-yes, but I really don't k-know if I can again."

"Shh. You don't have to worry your pretty little head about that. Just leave it to me. You wanted me to fuck your brains out, remember?"

You do — vaguely. The hazy state of your mind proves just how well he's worn you out, the sleep that evaded you for so long already reaching for you and trying to drag you under, even as Bodhi undeterredly continues to steer you toward yet another orgasm.

"One more, okay?' he pants, pressing a quick kiss to the top of your head. "Then we'll go to sleep."

Nodding, you bite down on his arm to ground yourself, and embrace the overstimulating pleasure of his hand on your clit rubbing away all other thoughts and sensations. You hover right on the edge for what feels like minutes. Through the pain and pleasure blurring your mind, you're starting to think you really have reached a point where you physically can't come anymore, but just as you open your mouth to voice the thought and ask Bodhi to stop for real, your orgasm finally hits you with such force it knocks the breath from your lungs. You can only hang limp in Bodhi's arms, barely getting out a high pitched mewl as you come so hard you think you actually black out for a second.

When you regain awareness of your surroundings, Bodhi is pulling out of you, warm cum seeping down your thighs until he reaches for a piece of clothing from the floor and uses it to wipe away the worst of the mess.

"How are you feeling now?" he asks, gently laying you down on your back with him between your legs, pushed up on his elbows to keep most of his weight off you.

"Great," you sleepily mumble, tilting your head up to kiss his cheek. "Thanks."

"Of course," he replies, kissing the top of your head in turn. "Do you want to go get cleaned up before we sleep?"

"Nh-nh. Too tired."

"Alright then," he chuckles, getting comfortable beside you and pulling you into his arms. "Good night."

"Good night, Bodhi."

[rottenomelet]

Hey, could you do a little fic with yandere Choso? Going a little more into depth like the one you did with Geto? You’re writing is phenomenal

(note(s): i absolutely can :P i was thinking about doing this anyways like anon u just read my mind. and thank you :)

warning(s): implied kidnapping, implied stalking, mentions of period (non sexually), all-in-all slightly creepy tendencies. choso is just an oral king here so if that isnt ur thing, i sorry.)

Yandere Choso Thoughts (1k)

Here’s the thing: Choso is the oldest of ten. He’s hyper independent and he’s in a position of always taking care of others. But he doesn’t just enjoy the act; he embodies it. Being a caretaker is his pride and joy. Being an oldest brother is Choso’s absolute greatest accomplishment, and he wears the title like a medal.

So of course the same can be said when it comes to you, his precious darling.

Having you as his responsibility brings him immeasurable joy. Choso is prideful about how well he’s taken care of you, how much brighter and healthier you’ve looked since he’s taken you into his care.

He’s attentive to your needs like no one else, recognizes what you need even before you do. If you take any medication, he reminds you of it. He makes sure you drink enough water, that you eat balanced meals at healthy times, that you go to bed on time every night. Choso does not allow you much personal time for hobbies but he has no qualms about an - approved - book now and again, or even a tv show as long as you watch it with him.

Any nasty habits you have - smoking, drinking, not eating right, insomnia - he goes through absolute lengths to ‘cure’ you of. It’s not that he thinks these things make you imperfect, but rather that you’re his/. His darling, his responsibility - it just won’t do to have you feel anything but 100% good all the time.

Of course there is the more… concerning side of this attentiveness. He’ll mention special dates (an old friend’s birthday or the graduation of a family member). Choso will bring up tv shows you used to love but forgot about, give you comics you were once interested in but deemed too expensive. He even knows your cycle, buys you sanitary products the day before you begin. Choso sees no issue in telling you when you’re ovulating.

(“You’re at your most fertile today.” He’ll mention during dinner and you freeze. Your stomach churns as you process what he just said.

Choso doesn’t have to eat so he likes to sits there and watch you eat dinner. It was awkward at first, the man not much for talking and you reluctant to converse with your capturer. But as time passed, the two of you could at least exchange comments here and there for the duration of the meal.

Choso pays your discomfort no mind. “I know your stomach hurts, but try to eat a bit more. You have a busy night ahead of you and I want you at your best.”)

You’re in his capable hands now - there’s no reason to even think when Choso is there.

He’s caring in different ways too.

Choso loves your reactions. The way your brows scrunch, when you bite your lip, when your eyes roll into your skull. When your toes clench and your hips twitch and your thighs tremble. The sounds you make - heavens bells could never compare. Whether you’re moaning, whining, screaming, or crying his name, Choso revels in anything that leaves your lips.

He finds that the easiest way to get you to react is when his tongue is between your legs. You practically sing for him then.

The only thing he doesn’t like is how difficult it is to see your face when he’s down there. Because of this, his favorite position is with you on your back and your knees hooked over his shoulders. His face in your cunt, his eyes on you as he licks your most delicate place. He holds your shaking thighs apart as he suckles your clit. Choso practically moans with you when you cum on his tongue.

He doesn’t stop after one - doesn’t see a reason to. He’s here to take care of your every need - one orgasm isn’t enough for him.

(“No more. Please no more.” You whimper as you plead for Choso to have mercy on your sweet pussy.

You’ve come thrice on his tongue already. You’re shaking uncontrollably and the only reason you haven’t collapsed onto the bed yet is because Choso is holding you up. You’re overstimulated and your cunt aches. You can feel your clit pulsate on his tongue.

Choso only pauses his ministrations to reply. “You can handle it. You’ve done it before.”

He kisses the top of your cunt before sliding his tongue back against your special place. His tongue slides against your inner labia, only teasing your clit by circling it.

Your head falls back as moans spill out. It’s all just too much. You’ve never experienced pleasure like this - no one ever good enough at this to make you enjoy oral to this extent.

But Choso? Choso is a master at understanding your pleasure.

“I can’t.” You say, keening as you do.

“You can.” He responds and this time you know he’s not giving you any other options. “Just a little more, love. I know you can take it.”)

But even though Choso loves taking care of you, sometimes he needs to be taken care of.

He needs cuddles more than he would like to admit. He likes to lay on top of you with his head in your chest and your hand in his hair, scratching at his scalp. Choso likes praise, though he’ll never ask for it. Tell him he’s a good big brother, that he’s a good man to you too. He’ll be over the moon.

He’s quiet. He never reveals much of himself unless you prompt him to. He’ll always answer any question you have for him, adhere to most requests. But Choso will always be surprised, pleasantly so, when you show interest in him or want to spend time with him.

And when it comes to more human things, you find yourself leading. Kissing, hugging, holding hands. All things Choso has never heard about until you.

He was a shy kisser at first but now he absolutely loves it. That closeness? It’s something he could never replace.

He’s sweet, really. Choso just cares so much about you.

[thebellearchives]

For your event, fluff prompt 13 for gojo satoru please 👉👈

𝐒𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐓

~ satoru gojo ; jujutsu kaisen

✧˚ · . S Y N O P S I S : you’ve remained silent about your feelings for your long time friend Satoru for a while now, but when he’s the one being silent it’s suddenly not so normal

‧₊˚ c o n t e n t s : gn!reader, fluff, friends to lovers, reader is also a teacher at jujutsu high

‧₊˚ a / n : hope you like this anon because absolutely love how it turned out! i think it’s one of my favourite shots i’ve written!

The view from the classroom’s window wasn’t exactly breathtaking. Your eyes examined the training grounds below, covered by the night sky and the wind blowing through the tree branches. Insomnia had been your most trusted companion for a while, so even though you were tired from the workday for some reason your brain wouldn’t stop buzzing. The classroom’s door opened, a sigh escaped your lips knowing perfectly who had closed it back and walked up to you.

Satoru decided to stand next to you, resting his lower back against the desk just like you had been doing for the past thirty minutes or so. Both of you stared at the calm scenery in a comfortable silence, you wondered how much longer would it take him to start talking but as time passed he didn’t say a single word. Restless, your eyes furtively glanced at him, but he remained silent and holding that characteristic smile of his.

“So?”

“So?”

“Why are you so quiet all of a sudden?” you chuckled, curiously searching for an answer in his hidden eyes.

“What? Can’t I enjoy a moment of tranquility with my dear friend?”

You tried not to show how sour his comment had tasted to you, holding your smile and shifting in your place.

“Yeah, friend” your eyes went back to the window and quickly followed the conversation somewhere else “this friend of mine isn’t usually so silent. In fact, I doubt he even knows what the words “shut up” mean.”

The sorcerer snickered, jumping up and sitting on top of the desk.

“Just say you miss my beautiful voice.”

“Oh Satoru, I’m so glad you’re here, I missed your voice so much” you sat on the desk too, close to him.

“My beautiful voice” your friend corrected.

“I missed your beautiful voice so much!”

“I know dear, that’s why I came looking for you. I have this special ability of knowing when your heart sings for me so I run to find you and bless you with my presence” he leaned back and clocked his head towards you, a cheeky grin on his lips.

“You’re so considerate” you laughed, leaned in closer to him and flicked his nose.

“Ouch!” whining, he rubbed his nose and pouted “I’m so nice to you and you hurt me like this”

“Aww, sorry baby, let me kiss away the pain, alright?” you rolled your eyes, having no intention on actually following through.

“Alright” he grinned again, taking the bandages off his face.

As soon as his white hair fell down on top of his forehead his long lashes flickered towards you, stunning sky blue irises making sure to stop your heart immediately. He rested his weight on his elbow, keeping his undivided attention fixed on you and yours on him. The man was gorgeous, he had always been. And yes, it was probably so cliche of you to fall in love with your long time friend Satoru Gojo, but when he looked at you like that with that playful smile of his and those beautiful eyes there was no stopping the butterflies that fluttered uncontrollably inside of you, that longing for his love that burned deep down in your heart.

“Well?” he rose his eyebrows “where’s my kiss?”

You laughed again, making him laugh along with you.

“What makes you think I’m gonna kiss you?”

“I don’t know, maybe those deeply in love eyes you’re giving me”

Your face flushed immediately, you bit your lip for a second before giggling.

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

His smile never left his face, he just licked his lips as his pupils examined your face and rested on your smile.

"When you laugh like that, it’s just - you're so beautiful, you know that?"

You probably blinked a bit too much, your eyes opened wide. It was normal for Satoru to make frisky flirty comments like that towards you, enjoying all the reactions he could get from you. But this one… this one was different. His fingertips then traced your jawline, guiding you closer to him. And so you followed, as naturally as chasing river flow, heart beating loudly in your ears. He tilted his head slightly, and then he softly kissed you. Lips caressing yours in a loving motion, a bit insistent, just a little bit curious, licking your lips and taking advantage of the surprised gasp you let out to explore your mouth with his tongue for a while. Your hand shakily traveled up his chest and your fingers weakly grasped the fabric in between. The kiss stopped just as softly and delicately as it had started, both of you lingering on each others mouths.

“I knew it.”

“What?”

“I always had a chance, didn’t I?” a sly smirk tugged from the corner of his lips, you frowned.

“I liked it better when you were silent” he giggled, but you smiled and kissed him again.

[cupids-chamber]

♡. WHEN CROWLEY DECIDES that the boy's need a dosage of learning to prepare for the 'future' and sets everyone up in pairs to take care of a fake baby that mimics a real one. @ ; Gender neutral reader / Crack (In some parts) / Fluff ## heartslabyul + pomefiore + octavinelle / scarabia + savanaclaw + diasomnia

. ACE TRAPPOLA ; “Why does this gremlin look like us?” he asks nonchalantly, waving his hands towards the baby. The child looked way too real to be fake, though Crowley had informed everyone beforehand that the child was in fact fake, and was made to take after its caretakers.. They seemed real.. And you wouldn’t put it past Crowley to kidnap a couple thousand kids, I mean he technically did the same to you.. So it can’t be that uncommon.. Plus it would save him some cash if he actually did that. 

The baby was asleep when it first came into your possession. You swear you saw Ace lose his sanity a tad bit when it first cried, that should have been a red flag.. Alongside his literal meltdown when he was confused as to what he should do, you watched and humored his worries, by putting needless concern and teasing him. You swear you saw him take a breath of pure relief when the child stopped crying and began drinking its milk. 

The child indefinitely had insomnia because it just wouldn’t fucking let you two sleep.. At all.. Ace wanted to commit a crime, he thought it would be peaceful having a month off classes.. And since the child was fake it would all end well, Right? Wrong. The baby was artificially designed to look exactly like the two of you, which was bad because you couldn’t help but grow attached to it.. And that wasn’t the worst part, It acted like a real child.. and functioned like one too. You were now 99% sure Crowley kidnapped a bunch of orphaned newborns and put a sort of disguise spell on it.

The two of you even named the kid.. Well Ace just continued to call it a little gremlin, and you ended up joining him. It was much easier, and well.. The child was a gremlin.. The child was growing fast, and it was torture. It would pull your hair, tamper with Ace’s make-up. Fuck with your supplies and tools, and was genuine hell to work with. But that’s not to say the child was all bad, it was cute. And the three of you grew quite close together. 

When it was time for your Little gremlin to go, the two of you were completely heartbroken. Over the past month, the two of you grew closer together as a pair, hell Ace even confessed. It was sweet, and now you little gremlin had to leave you both. “WE’LL MISS YOU” you yelled as Crowley took the kid away from you both, sure Crowley was an excellent matchmaker for the two of you but what the fuck?!?

. DEUCE SPADE ; Deuce grew up with care and was surprisingly well trained in the art of taking care of a child, the moment the baby was given to you, it started crying. Yet Deice was fully prepared for this event in advance, it was actually a rather adorable sight. However, you didn't get to view the full scene, as Deuce ushered you away to get your supplies for the baby. 

You heard that the Child was supposedly supposed to take after the two of you, yet a part of you doubted the fact but when Deuce pointed out the similarities you began taking notice of it as well.

Was Deuce an expert child specialist, you weren’t quite sure… But he was exceptionally good at taking care of the little demon that was now in both of your possession. The first few hours went by pretty fine, since Deuce was quite skilled in taking care of children.. You were actually quite shocked when he asked you for help, but the scene was worth it. 

The three of you would play together, go on picnics, and do a bunch more fun stuff; which led to the three of you quickly growing attached together, he even gave the little demon with legs a name. Everything about this experience was fun and enjoyable, and you couldn’t help but grow used to it. Though it was quite odd, the little demon seemed to have quite a lot of patience for a child, you don’t think that was normal. You even asked Deuce about it; he then explained to you how throughout his earlier years, he had been a remarkably calm child to deal with..

When it came time for the two of you to give up your precious child, you swore you could see Deuce shed a tear. And you were quite sure that Crowley purposefully, meticulously planned this event; since he handled taking your demon away from you and turning the device off, much slowly, then the others. 

. RIDDLE ROSEHEARTS ; Riddle was not ready for this— One normal school day with peace dear heavens.. Mercy on his soul. (Something yuu should be saying but ok Riddle be dramatic mr mommy issues 🙄) Immediately hands the kid over to you, he does not trust himself. And that’s a lot coming out from Riddle the housewarden of Heartslabyul—Himself..

He’s trying.. He truly is.. He’s putting in his best effort.. But his mother didn’t raise him right and he sure as hell is worried that he’ll make a slight mistake in parenting.. Even if the ordeal is fake.. He is 100% inclined to pretend this is in fact real? Why because that monstrosity of a child looks like the both of you and takes after him mostly and that is creepily burdening, almost like Crowley planned this thoughtfully like a well planned, carefully coordinated villain but that cant be it because he slacks in every other fucking field there is. (And Riddle also wants an A) 

Ever had a nagging housewife of your own? No.. well be prepared to have one, because Riddle expects you to get off that high couch and get your fine ass down on the carpet, you both shall dedicate all your time to the baby that obviously took a lot out of him, like imagine waking up and getting handed your child first thing in the morning? Truly the gift of life is so unbearable. WHY ARE YOU STILL ON THE COUCH.

‘Y/n L/n if you do not come out of the goddamn bathroom and join us for this fucking playdate, I will destroy your fucking phone — sincerely Riddle’

Most definitely sends you paragraphs and paragraphs worth of texts and etc, starts acting like a nagging husband. You can’t even tell what's real or not anymore, bro you have to leave your friends with a “I gotta check on my wife” type of goodbye. (He’s not as controlling as he sounds I swear, you both are having fun but he can be.. extra.)

. TREY CLOVER ; Trey and you had actually recently started acting on both your feelings, not necessarily confessed but the two of you were definitely having this flirting session. Like edging into dating but you both haven’t really decided to make things official yet. And as of current times, Trey was giving you some freshly baked cookies catered to your tastes. He loves expressing his feelings through baked goods, giving you sweets, etc as a means to express himself.. And it was at this moment did Crowley end up announcing his stupid bogus plan and idea.. That he most definitely was serious about.

Trey had always given a responsible vibe to you, he just had this aura that radiated.. well.. you couldn't explain it. But you were quite sure that he'd be good with kids... and you were right. Though he did look kind of nervous and worried, he pulled through quite quickly though. He carried the child with shaky arms, and you could swear he was glaring daggers into Crowley. 

The entire class was filled with baby noises and a bunch load of struggling teenage men's voices. It was a funny sight to any normal civilian, and it would be to you too.. If you weren’t suffering the same fate as all the boys in the class. Trey thankfully got a clean pacifier and shut the thing up..

. CATER DIAMOND ; Cater was well.. Um shocked? Taken aback.. Conflicted.. It was hard to tell.. He seemed to have been going through what appears to be the five stages of literal grief in front of you as if it was normal. You were grateful Crowley handed the ‘thing’ to you and not Cater because you doubt in his state, he’d be able to carry the child let alone take care of it.

The three of you were in Cater’s room, and the child sucked on its pacifier as you sat on the edge of the bed; with the kid on your lap, witnessing Cater’s emotional breakdown live. 

“I’m not ready for kids.. I can’t even take care of myself.. nOw KiDs?!/1!/1/!?1//1//1/??!” he babbled on and on, with light curses, and more. 

You raised your hand and explained “Cater you do know.. That this is a project right?” 

“WHEN DID YOU TWO GET HERE?”

. EPEL FELMIER ; Surprisingly skilled in taking care of the little girl you both were given to by the demon that is Crowley, having mainly female figures in his life has presented Epel with outstanding qualities in taking care of children. It was a shocker really, how he was so considerate and able to tell what the child needed. Contrary to his act and front of being manly and his need to prove himself at any given moment, Epel could be so utterly soft and adorable when it came to children. It also didn’t help that the kid looked exactly like a mixture of you both. 

Epel actually shared multiple stories about his time back home, how some of his grandmother's friends would come over and let him babysit their nephews, children, or even grandchildren. They claimed that he had excellent skills when it came to taking care of children, they also teased him alot, claiming that he’d make a great husband in the future. (But he’ll leave that part out in the stories) 

The stories truly explained why he seemed to be so great at taking care of kids. He even taught you some tricks and tricks on how to calm down a kid, some things that maybe you didn’t even know— which made everything all the more interesting. 

“I say we name her Applejack”

“We changed her diaper—gave her food, hell we even read stories and played with her.. Why isn’t she sleeping!” you exclaimed, exceptionally tired as your 5am alarm to check on the baby went off. You sighed, leaning into the armchair on your third cup of coffee that night, this experience is making you dread the idea of kids as a whole.. Why were they so difficult? “Did you give her her pacifier? Also stop drinking coffee dear, have water instead” Epel hands you a cup of water, as you let out a dramatic sigh and then you went on to explain how she keeps on spitting out her pacifier. 

“Let me try; you go and get some rest… you could use it.. !”

. VIL SCHOENHEIT ; Vil Schoenheit was the partner that Crowley had chosen for you, for what reason.. you do not want to know. All you know is that Crewel was yelling at him afterwards, and you only presume he was against the idea just as much as you.. Vil was smart.. But god forbid you work in a group project with the housewarden of Pomefiore.. And unlike before.. This time it was only the two of you.. With an unknown third party who is a literal child. 

I mean— you predicted this much.. Vil had flawless skills in almost everything you’ve so far seen him doing.. Well except that tiny winy (penis) small little conflict with Neige. Thankfully, no problems have so far appeared (in deez nuts) while the two of you were parenting.. And raising.. This.. ‘thing’... you both didn’t name it, and Vil kept calling it little potato. 

You swear Vil was being ultra sus with his lowkey perfect parenting but then he truly came undone (do you get it.. But like… do you get it?) and you for realzies found him tot’s bragging and flexing to a very tired Epel and Rook about his kid. Which is lowkey for realzies not his kid, but you know.

. ROOK HUNT ; It was your first time witnessing Rook actually grow nervous, and at Crowley's announcement no less… Were you expecting anything out of the ordinary today? Not really.. But where Crowley exists there can never be peace. But it was slightly worth it though, watching Rook have an internal meltdown as he held the ‘fake’ child with care. 

It was hilarious, he was stunned, his month hung open and his face was basically a reenactment of: ‘0’, except he was sweating a shit ton as well.. “Rook, do you need me to take the child for now?” Rook immediately snapped out of his trance on queue as he turned away from you. 

Rook, despite being beyond confused and struggling a shit ton to present himself as a normal parent, refused to let you take any of the major workload. It was sweet, but on the first day you vividly remember wearing a suit and greeting the literal baby as if it was a job interview, like “Yes I’ve come to addition for the role of your father little fake ‘child’”

To be honest you weren't quite sure if you could trust him to be in charge of the child..

. AZUL ASHENGROTTO ; Crowley handed the little infant to Azul… Azul. He’s panicking, he’s nervous; his hands get sweaty and shaky, he’s not used to carrying children.. or more so babies.. even if they’re fake.. ‘It’ still behaves and acts like a child, and not to mention how it looks like the carbon copy of you two, is Crowley trying to traumatize the whole of NRC? ‘Well ‘it's’ quite adorable’. 

You quickly and carefully remove the child from Azuls arms, refusing to give it back to him till he’s completely calmed down, he seems rather… taken aback by the entire thing.. Which rightfully so, imagine your headmaster just randomly handing you a child which he claims is fake, that looks and behaves like your partner? It would’ve traumatized anyone really, you’ve just grown rather immune to Crowley’s bullshit. 

Azul was surprisingly good at taking care of the child when needed, he was well coordinated and thoughtful.. He was very responsible and quickly memorized the necessary rules and actions he must do as a child caretaker, you were quite weirded out by the sheer dedication he had.. But Azul is quite the overachiever so it came as no surprise to you. 

The three of you would huddle together and play games with the child in the evening and then read story books together at night, it was fun.. And you even enjoyed your time with the housewarden, his effort was well appreciated as he handled all your little sea shell’s temper tantrums and meltdowns well. You didn’t have to put much of an effort, really. But you did regardless, since.. Well, the child looked so like you it would be weird not too.. It just felt wrong. 

Before you knew it, you two started acting like a divorce couple (Who obviously are still in love) trying to impress their kids and gain more attention from the other. (Floyd wins this game, he keeps stealing you kid.)

. JADE LEECH ; Jade was amused by Crowley's assignment. Questions as to how Crowley had gotten his hands on so many con children that could perfectly impersonate two different students filled his head; while you remained purely horrified by the fact of partnering up with Jade… ‘Does he even know how to manage a child?.. probably…? I mean Floyd most definitely didn’t live on his own.. He would have probably been in jail if he was living alone’

Contrary to your worries Jade had presented himself as a great help to you, he offered to bring the materials you required and more. He even helped set up his dorm room to be more baby proof, and though Floyd’s visits did often bother you and kid… he worked out solutions and helped everything stay in order. 

Hell he even tried recommending a lot of family games and etc, though you had to most graciously decline his offer for a family hiking trip… for mushrooms… (You also had to decline his offer for mushroom flavored baby food)

. FLOYD LEECH ; Floyd surprisingly was very calm.. I mean the two of you were paired not because Crowley chose so, he just grabbed you and your poor fate was decided.. And then the process of manufacturing the realistic dolls went on for a week, you were 100% sure it wasn’t dolls but in fact real babies with dyed hair or a spell on them of sorts, and Crowley just spent the week planning a heist to kidnap the babies. 

Floyd was a surprisingly good parent, not perfect by any means but only Crowley would imagine that a fancy Schmancy college filled with (mostly) privileged wealthy boys would be able to take care of a bunch of kids (Newborn/infants at that).. Hell you heard some rumors that some people got twins and even quadruplets.. (Which added to your baby heist theory)  

Floyd held the bottle to the little eel’s mouth and watched the ‘thing’ drink (you two haven’t gotten a name for it, so you both just call it little eel or eely), while carefully listening to your baby heist theory; providing nods and a bunch of “uh huhs” and “mhms” in response, as you went in tremendous detail with your little white board. 

Also Floyd most definitely flexes his little demon to Jade and disturbs his time with his kid, “Look at my kid, it’s so incredible” energy.(Soccer mom but dad version vibes)

© cupids-chamber, do not repost, plagiarize, translate, or adapt my work without prior permission and or confirmation.

[pickleskisser]

spade anon back again

i was wondering if you had any headcannons about what it be like to sleep with the boys (not in THAT way but like, actually sleeping) which ones cuddle? which ones would much rather not?

HIII omfg this took longer than usual cause,,, school,,, break,,, but i got it done now!!! even threw in an additional Charles section ;p

Sleeping habits with the band + Charles Offdensen

Nathan Explosion

A cuddler. I have no proof it's just a gut feeling.

He's a diehard big spoon though. He thrives off looking down and seeing his s/o there in his arms...

Christ he's such a sap under those layers upon layers of brutal bullshit.

He's a guy who likes routine too. So, once you've slept with him enough it's a pattern he relies on your presence.

Spoiler: you better have a good reason if you're skipping out on nightly cuddles.

Overall a big teddy bear he's a cutie.

Pickles the Drummer

This guy is all over the place. A complete mess if you will.

Your nightly routines consist of making sure he's in bed, first of all.

He has a tendency of just passing out wherever. It's not too awful but about once a week you're going to have to hunt him down and find him face down in his own vomit in a hallway.

Due to this his s/o will grow a subconscious habit of a night time self care routine? Of sorts?

Getting him decently clean before bed just kinda becomes a thing.

And yknow what. He appreciates it!

He loves being doted on.

I think he cuddles but not a big Spooner.

He likes laying on his partner's chest or vice versa.

It's nice listening to your heartbeat, it's soothing. And on the flipside having you lay on him is like having a weighted blanket.

It's the shit for him!

Skwisgaar Swigelf

While I'm not the biggest believer of the whole Skwisgaar having like a 100 step self-care routine.

I do think he has one.

Just nothing insane. He does care on a small level. But one expensive face wash with benzol peroxide and a face mask every now and then is about it.

And you are absolutely being dragged into this. He holds his self image to a high standard and you are a part of that.

Now the actual issue is getting him to bed.

Sometimes he gets too caught up in his composing and practicing he neglects some basics to self preservation.

Just gently remind him it's good for him and to his benefit and you can get him to give in without much struggle. Mostly.

Sometimes he's adverse to touch. Nothing personal it's just a lot to him sometimes.

But he always need to be facing you in bed. If anything you need to be the last thing he sees before he shuts off his mind.

Toki Wartooth

Do I even have to say it?

Cuddles. 10000%

He doesn't care how, just that he needs it.

He is also a man of routine but in the sense that he has rituals.

He does things a certain way, and in a certain order.

If you follow his routine with him he'll love you until the world combusts. But he also understands if you have your own thing, just don't disrupt his.

He also can't sleep without you and it deeply upsets him if you can't.

You will have to make up for it with LOTS of cuddles later.

William Murderface

personal headcanon alert.

I think he has insomnia.

Due to a mix of paranoia and night terrors he does not get a lot of sleep.

He can have periodic naps during the day but that's it.

Though once he's dating someone, like, actually dating someone, he tries to fix his sleep schedule.

Going to bed with him always starts with a movie, he needs the background noise.

He'll keep it on a low volume if it bothers you, but you can not make him give up his diy asmr.

He likes holding his partner, and I think their weight helps him calm down enough to try and rest.

That does not mean it always works though. But he enjoys you being their and humoring him nonetheless.

If you curl up with him for a nap though, you basically have his hand in marriage.

Charles Offdensen

His sleep schedule is garbage, but you best believe he's making sure you get your full 9 hours.

Obviously, he won't overstep. You are an adult and capable of making decisions and taking care of yourself.

But you may notice subtle nudges if you start slacking. Say you are busy with work at home, he might persuade you to take a five-minute breather. Come lay in the bed with him. No, he did not light a lavender candle, yes, the weighted blanket is necessary, of course he's going to massage his sweetheart's shoulders, don't look too deep into it.

Of course he is a massive hypocrite, and brushes all of his partners concern off when it comes to his habits.

That does not mean he is completely unable to reason with though, especially if they're wanting to go to bed with him.

When it comes to cuddling, he is neutral on it. If it's something you want, then sure.

He is a chronic back sleeper though, so spooning is rare, but he happily offers his chest as a pillow.

[ferida-kahlo]

♡ Hotline ♡

Mikey Berzatto x F!Reader

Summary: You and Mikey have been casually seeing each other for a few weeks. After a late night text from him, you make the drunken insomniac executive decision of calling him back. Naughtiness ensues.

Or: the one where you and Michael have phone sex.

Warnings: 18+, SMUT, M/F. Minors DNI // PWP, P!rn With Feelings. Phone sex, flirting, teasing, sexual innuendos, dirty talking, mentions of oral sex (m. receiving), masturbation (m. and f.), sexual fantasies, role-playing scenarios, librarian k!nk, mentions of rough sex. // Blink-and-you-miss-it angst, alcohol use, mentions of insomnia, anxiety and self esteem issues.

Word count: 3.8k

Read below the cut OR on AO3

Notes: Reader wears glasses in this - don't look at me like that, it's integral to the plot 🙄

For the history nerds, the quote at the beginning is from the book "Fire from Heaven" by Mary Renault, about the relationship between Alexander the Great and his friend and lover, Hephaestion.

Enjoy! As always, likes, comments and reblogs are very appreciated ♡

His feelings were confused; he wanted to grasp till Alexander's very bones were somehow engulfed within himself, but knew this to be wicked and mad; he would kill anyone who harmed a hair of his head…

… you yawned at the page you’d been reading (i.e., staring at without absorbing a single bit of information), before turning your head to the nightstand and seeing the clock mark 2:49 am.

“Good god”, you whispered, tiredly rubbing your face with one hand, while the other reached for the half-full glass of red wine keeping you company in your insomnia.

Technically, you knew drinking was the last thing you should be doing on a weeknight, when you were having a hard time falling asleep and were expected at work in the morning. But living alone was really not helping you behave like a responsible adult with bills to pay. So, you slowly sip your wine, read your book, and hope that eventually your brain will give up and allow you to pass out for at least a few hours.

Suddenly, your phone lights up with a text. Michael B., it says on the screen. A pang of excitement hits you, and you immediately scoff for reacting so earnestly to a text from a guy you’ve been with (not even biblically, just the daytime coffee dates that people with busy lives manage to pack into a crazy week) for a grand total of two times and less than two hours, overall. Not pathetic at all.

Still, you can’t help but reach for the phone.

Hey, I know it’s late and you probably won’t read this until morning, sorry. Wanna have dinner at that spot we talked about? I can pick you up at the office ;) – M.

You smile, and without really thinking, hit the call button.

He picks up quickly, an amused tone in his voice. “Well, I was not expecting that. What the hell are you still doing up, princess? No work tomorrow?”

You laugh. “God, I wish. I just can’t sleep. Haven’t had one of these nights in a while… my brain won’t shut up, even though I’m so tired I feel like I’ve been hit by a truck”.

“Ooof. That fucking sucks.”

“Yup.”

“Well, I’m glad to be your booty call in this desperate time.”

“Michael”, you laugh so hard you choke on some wine and must set the glass back on the table. “I really don’t think that’s what this is”.

“Oh, no?”, he feigns innocence.

“No…”, chuckling, you continue with the most sultry, mock-seductive voice you can muster “… a booty call is if I was like: Sooo, Mikey… are you, like, busy right now? Do you wanna… come over? I’m aaall alone…”.

You make sure to put particular emphasis on the word ‘come’ and Mike sounds like he is doubling over with laughter. “That was the worst proposition I have ever heard, no doubt”.

“Oh, yeah? Well, you’re officially off my booty call list. I don’t need this kind of negativity in my life.”

“Ah, shit… I fucked up now, didn’t I?”, you swear you can hear his grin from the other end of the line. And see the laugh lines that form on the corner of his eyes when he smiles genuinely, the rare but so cute nose crinkle that makes your belly flutter…

You would love to get a fucking grip, thank you very much, but the wine was making you incapable of keeping a level head in this flirtation.

“Well… all is not lost. Taking me out to dinner is a good start to redeem yourself. If your game is on point tomorrow, your booty call list status might be revised… in the not-so-far future”, you add, suggestively.

“Shit. Now the stakes are on. I gotta be on my best behavior tomorrow, then”.

“I don’t know about best behavior…”. You feel like slapping yourself for your lack of subtlety.

He chuckles. “So… you like them a little nasty, huh?”

You’re glad he can’t see you blush furiously. “Not like that… but I do like a man who isn’t afraid to… take what he wants. Respectfully, of course.”

“Of course… damn, girl. You’re getting me thinking about all sorts of things…”

“Well, you’re the one who started talking about booty calls. It’s technically your fault”.

“That’s fucking rich. I was being a gentleman, sent you a sweet text and all. Not a single sex reference!”, he says, proudly.

“Ok, that is true”, you concede, laughing softly. “Are you still at the restaurant?”

He sighs deeply. “Yeah… paperwork coming out of my eyeballs. I don’t even understand how the hell I organized this mess”. You hear rustling through the line, and imagine the mess of letters, invoices and bills that must be covering his office desk.

“That fucking sucks”.

“Word”. His chair squeaks loudly. “So… what are you wearing?”

You laugh. “You’re unbelievable”.

“What? I’m just trying to keep the conversation light, you know? Nobody wants to hear about my fuckin’ paperwork at 3 am”.

It was subtle, but you could sense something deeper in his words (sadness? self-deprecation?).

“I wouldn’t mind hearing about your ‘fuckin’ paperwork’ at any time of day, Michael”.

The line goes silent, and you fear you went too deep, too soon. Made this weird in record time, wow.

“I didn’t mean it like… I meant if you want to talk to me about your shitty day, you know, you can, but I don’t want you to be uncomf-”

“Hey, hey, it’s okay sweetheart. I get it… thank you for that”, he says, softly. “Maybe some other time. Right now, I honestly just wanna forget about this for a little while... I was really pumped when you called”.

“That’s okay. Really?” You smile, relieved.

“Yeah, really. So… wanna make a guy happy and tell him what you’re wearing?”

With a chuckle, you concede. “Well, nothing. I’m in bed and I sleep naked, so… yeah”.

There’s a heavy pause. “Holy shit. Are you for real?”

“Um, yeah?”

“Jesus, fuck… baby, you can’t say stuff like that and expect me to be normal about it”.

You grin, having just decided that, actually, you wanna play dirty.

“Who says I want you to be normal about it? Besides”, you throw back, suggestively, “I hardly think a woman can be held accountable for what she says after four glasses of wine on a Thursday night… naked and alone, in such a big bed…”

“Now, see, that was a much better pitch for a booty call than the first o-”

“I’m gonna hang up.”

“No, no, no, I’m sorry”, he laughs.

“You’re an asshole”. Even as you say it, you’re smiling.

“And you are a minx, lady. Gettin’ a guy all worked up…”

“Oh, my... I don’t know what you mean…”, you whisper into the comforter, now balled up in your fist over your mouth, as if to cover up your blushing cheeks from an invisible audience.

“Oh, I disagree… I think you know exactly what you’re doing”. There’s a note of sarcasm in his voice you find exhilarating. A sudden noise – like a chair squeaking loudly on a panel floor – can be heard from his end. Followed by… a metallic rattle, more subtle but still clear. A… belt unbuckling?

Wait. Is he…?

You grin, amused. “Mr. Berzatto… I’m hearing suspicious noises. What is going on over there?”

A deep grunt. “Nothin’ much, sweetheart. Just making myself comfortable, is all”.

“And how exactly are you doing that, mister?”

“You know… freeing the junk.”

Your eyebrows shoot up. “Well, that certainly helps set the mood”.

“Hm… baby, can I ask you for something? It’s totally fine if you don’t wanna do it… but I figure I might as well shoot my shot.”

You notice you are sitting up very still against the pillows in your bed, holding your breath in anticipation. “Sure… what is it?”

A heavy pause follows. Your heart feels like it’s about to beat itself out of your ribcage, your throat feels dry, and your tongue sits heavy and thick in your mouth, the taste of wine suddenly overpowering your senses. And you are so horny.

“Could you… send me a photo of you right now? Are you wearing those new glasses?”. He sounds… eager, almost nervous with the way he trips over the second question.

Oh. Something clicks for you, then. You smile. “So, you really liked the new glasses, huh?”

“Shit… c’mon, don’t bust my balls about it”, he says, with an embarrassed chuckle of admission.

“I’m not! It’s very flattering, actually”. You hope you conveyed how much you are not making fun of him. However, you hate misunderstandings, and to dispel any that might be going on here, you decide there is only one acceptable solution.

“Give me a minute”, you tell him, determined. You don’t wait for an answer before you drop your phone and get to work.

Meanwhile, Mikey sits in his rusty office chair, in what he thinks must look like a very… undignified position. Cock out, right hand stroking it lazily, slumped back with his jeans barely down his ass, work shirt dirty and stinking of cooking oil, his entire body tense in a mix of anticipation and shame. A part of him can’t help but wonder if you are fucking with him: laughing from the other end of the line, leaving him hanging – literally and figuratively (he chuckles dejectedly at the realization that he still remembers something from high school Lit class). He guesses he would kinda deserve that. What type of freak asks for nudes after two… dates? Do those rapid-fire coffee-grabs even count? He is so shit at this. Anything more than a casual hook-up or a quickie behind a sleezy pub is rocket science for him. ‘Congrats, loser! You just fucked it, yet again’.

Then, his phone pings. 5 photos received.

In the first one, you are lying on your side, in bed, a dim warm light illuminating the scene. He can see the contours of your body clearly, despite being covered by a layer of nearly sheer white sheets. His gaze follows your exposed collarbone, to the silhouette of your breasts – he is sure you purposefully allowed a bit of side-boob to slip past the entrapment of sheets… just for him.

He swears he could stare at the shapes of your body all day and never get tired – or limp. His dick is throbbing painfully, now.

It does not get better when he sees the rest of the photos. Your face is visible, on those. The last two are his favorites. You are laying on your stomach, with the reading glasses on, as promised – except they sit lower on your nose than usual, so that your eyes peak out from over the top of the frames. Your hair is down, tousled and wild like it’s just gotten messed up. ‘Is this what she looks like after…’. You are holding a glass of wine to your mouth – lips plump and lightly tinged red – that detail drives him a little insane –, and in front of you lays a book, delicately held open with your other hand. And in the last photo, the sheets have slipped lower down your breasts, revealing a generous cleavage. You’re staring directly at the camera with an inquiring gaze, biting your lower lip. ‘Come get me’.

“… Mike? Are you still there?”

It’s been some time since you sent the photos (twenty seconds, which your anxiety tells you is actually half an hour), with no reaction from him. Your cheeks heat up, and you suddenly feel very silly and insecure. Are they even… good? What makes a good nude? Do these even qualify as nudes? You’re not showing anything super explicit… they’re suggestive, at best. Is he going to think you’re a prude? God, why is this so diff-

Mike clears his throat. “Yeah, I… fuck. Fuckin’ hell. Holy shit. Sweetheart… these are so hot. Jesus… thank you so much. You’re so fuckin’ gorgeous…”. The last part comes out as a whisper, like he’s starstruck.  

You didn’t know it was possible to get more flustered than you already were. “You’re welcome… I’m flattered I managed to make Michael Berzatto incoherent over some low-res thirst trap selfies.”

“Baby, these are genuinely the hottest pics I’ve ever seen. You look like a hot librarian or something”.

You laugh out loud, triumphantly. “Ah! I knew it!”

“What?”, he laughs along.

“Something you wanna share with the class, Mr. Berzatto?”.

“Fuck, don’t stop calling me that, sweetheart”, he says, sounding out of breath.

“Yeah?”, you whisper.

“Fuck, yeah. It’s just… I’ve got a thing for girls with a kinda nerdy, librarian type of vibe, you know? And when I saw you this last time, holding a book and wearing your reading glasses… I gotta admit, my mind went straight to the gutter.”

Interesting. “Really? What did you imagine then?”.

A pause. “I’m not sure you want to hear it… I don’t want you thinking I’m a pervert or something”.

You sigh. “Mikey, I just sent you near-naked photos of me. We’re having phone sex. We are two horny adults having fun. Besides…”, you switch your tone to what you hope comes across as faux innocence, “… I asked you about it. It is kinda my fault, right? I guess I was kind of… bad”.

“Oh, is that what’s happening?”. He chuckles, as if saying challenge accepted. “Alright, then. When I saw you like that for the first time, this image popped into my head, right? I mean, you looked like a really hot librarian. So, I started picturing you in that scenario, with big glasses and all – just like the photos you sent me… except you had your hair in a cute ponytail, and your lips were even redder with lipstick… and you were wearing fishnet stockings up to your thighs – fuck, you got such nice legs, baby –, and you had a pair of those… what are they called. Uh, kitten heels. Yeah. Fuck, your ass would look unbelievable like that. I mean, it is unbelievable, you know what I mean? When you show up at the restaurant wearing those cute little dresses and skirts, I feel my dick twitching in my pants… that’s how hot you are, baby… that’s how crazy you make me feel.”

His words were streaming out like an avalanche – a filthy stream-of-consciousness. Flash images of all the times you were together pop into your mind. He was always nice and polite to you, if cheeky – that was his personality, after all. You’d never felt disrespected or threatened around him. Maybe that’s why, now that you knew he had been actively thinking about you like this… you were very turned on.

“Too much, sweetheart? You wanna keep listening to this filth?”

“… yeah, Mikey. Keep going. What happened then?”

“Then, I took you to a hidden corner in the library, rucked up your pretty little skirt and ripped your real nice dress shirt open… you know, so I could suck on your tits while I fucked you hard against some shelves. Didn’t even need to rip your panties off, ‘cause you weren’t wearing any. Just lifted you up and slammed my cock right into your pussy… God, you were drippin’ wet for me, and you mewled so sweetly… loud, too. Had to shove my fingers into your pretty mouth to keep you quiet. That’s what I imagined, sweetheart. More or less.”

The crass and vivid way in which he described his fantasy made you speechless. It was exhilarating. Knowing that all those times he had talked to you with a straight face, he had been actively fantasizing about fucking you hard. His words.

“Jesus Christ, Mikey”, you breathe out. “That’s… I can’t believe we had entire conversations while you had a cheap porn flick playing in your head”, you laugh softly, unconvincingly.

He sighed deeply. “See, I knew this was a bad idea… honey, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you feel like shit. I guess I’m just a fucking perv-”

“Babe…”, you interrupt him, gentle, but firm, “shut up, please. I’m messing with you. I told you, it’s very flattering that you’re attracted to me. In fact… it’s super hot. Knowing you were having all those dirty thoughts about me while still being a gentleman… is making me feel all kinds of things, right now.”

“Yeah? What kinds of things?”

“Good things, Mikey… I’m so wet right now”, you mewl, the need for release in your core overwhelming the embarrassment you would be feeling otherwise. Without thinking, you kick the sheets away from your body and cup one of your breasts, kneading it and flicking your nipple – a moan leaves your mouth in a desperate plea.

“Fuck”, he whispers, “you got wet over that filth? Jesus Christ, baby. I won the fuckin’ lottery”.

You are burning with desire, and you can feel your pussy throbbing when you finally give in, sliding one hand down and shoving two fingers inside with barely any resistance. “Mikey… I wanna come so bad. Can you talk me through it… please?”

“Fuck… yeah, sweetheart, anything you want”. He moans, then, and you don’t think you have ever been so turned on in your life. Mikey Berzatto, a horny, moaning mess, jerking off in his mess of an office at 3 am… because of you.

Chicago’s Helen of Troy. You chuckled softly at the thought and decided to up the ante. “Baby… do you know what I was thinking when you were telling that beautiful story just now?”

He laughs, voice recked. “What, baby?”

You pout, and add another finger in, increasing the pace of the thrusts. “I wish you had pictured kissing me real hard, while I unbuckled your belt… would you let me get down on my knees for you, baby? I really wanna have you in my mouth, Mikey, like, right now”. Your words come out broken, sentences all messed up – you sound pathetic, but you are so past caring.

“Shit-”, a gasp, followed by a deep breath and the noise of something hitting a surface really hard. “… holy shit. Baby, I imagined all that and a whole lot more – seriously, you have no idea. Hell, if the lady wants to suck my dick, who am I to deny her, uh? Fuck. Would you let me fuck your mouth, baby…?”

You moan loudly at that and realize you need both hands, putting the phone on speaker – fuck the neighbors – and bringing your other hand to your clit, rubbing lightly, but fast. You were so close. The thought of kneeling on the floor, clothes and hair all messed up from Mikey’s hands, lipstick smudged… looking up at him, and watching his composure unravel because of you…

“Hm… yeah, Mikey, I think I would… ‘cause you’re so nice to me… such a gentleman, even when you’re fucking me hard… would you ask me real nice, baby? Hold my face gently in your big hands, while you fuck it?”

“Fuck, baby… I would treat you so right, you deserve everything-”, he chokes up and, for a few moments, you hear a distant cacophony of noises, like he’s put the phone down. Then, he’s back. “Sorry, sweetheart, I need both hands now”, he chuckles.

You giggle, “Me too… you got me so hot I’m fucking myself on my fingers and rubbing my clit at the same time… and it’s still not enough. I need you…”

“Fuck, that’s so hot. You fuckin’ yourself because of me… I know it’s not enough, baby… you need my cock, don’t you?”

“Yes! Mikey… please…”, you howl, completely out of your mind.

“How do you want me to fuck you, baby? Hm? Want it nice and slow? Nah… I think you like it fast and rough, don’t you? Long as I keep kissing you real good, touchin’ you real gentle, all over your body… you’d let me do anything to you, wouldn’t you?”. How he manages to say such filthy things with so much honey dripping from every syllable, is beyond you.

“Yeah, fuck, baby… it doesn’t matter. I’m so wet already, you don’t need to do anything else, just hoist me up in your arms and pin me against the shelves… and shove it in me”.

You are still holding onto a shred of decency because you blush at your own crass admission – still, there is clearly not a whole lot left, as you start rubbing your clit and fucking yourself harder and faster. “I don’t want you to be gentle when you fuck me… I just need to feel your cock stretch me open… wanna feel the sting of it for days, be at work and not be able to focus because all I can think about is how you fucked me so good-”

At this point, you have no idea if he can understand anything you’re saying, because your words are intercut with moans and gasps and mewls and incoherent babble, as you’re about to reach your peak imagining Mikey’s on top of you, railing you into the bed.

“Baby, I’m gonna come… fuckin’ Christ”.

“Mikey- fuck!”.

Your body shakes and your eyes roll back from the strength of your orgasm. Distantly, your brain registers a broken string of moans and curses from the other end of the line.

A few seconds pass, and you feel yourself coming back down to Earth. You lazily stretch out on the bed, completely relaxed and fucked out. “That’s so cute… we came at the same time, babe”, you happily whisper, a ditsy smile on your face.

He huffs, amused “Yeah… what can I say? I’m a romantic at heart”.

You laugh sincerely. “This was… so good, actually. I’m glad I gave into my instinct and called you”.

“Well, I’m even more sticky now”. You both laugh at that. “But I’m also glad you called… like, really glad. Uh, can I ask you something?”

You notice a shift in his voice.

“Yeah… what is it?”

“I don’t want things to get weird between us after this… Like, I don’t want you to feel like you need to do all these things to get me off. You know what I mean? It’s just a fantasy… I’ll have you in any way you want me. Okay?”

You feel a tightness in your chest, and you wish, not for the first time tonight, you had him right in front of you so you could kiss him all over and hug him.

“Mikey… I genuinely liked tonight. And the more we talk, the more I like you. You’re not the only one who feels like you won the lottery…”.

“Baby… you’re too sweet. Don’t you think you already got me blushing enough for one night?”

“That’s fucking rich. I must’ve gone through all shades of red tonight, because of your filthy mouth”.

“Please. You loved it”, he chuckles.

“Yeah, I guess I did”, you concede, with a smile.

After saying goodbye – and confirming that yes, you would very much like for him to pick you up and take you to dinner later – you fall asleep fast, your mind finally catching up to the pleasant tiredness in your body, a soft smile on your lips.

[asimpforthe80s]

Happy Late Valentines

Starring: Eddie Munson x Reader

Warnings: slight angst. Smut!! Cunnulingus. P in V (unprotected). Breeding kink? Daddy kink?

♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡

Valentines Day. A day Eddie had despised for years. He never got anything, which is obvious knowing what his most known title is in the town. But you, on the other hand. You were quite popular despite hanging out with Eddie 'the freak' Munson, almost daily.

It was conveniently HellFire night on Valentines, and right before the campaign started, you were all showing off everything you had gotten. Everything from cards to chocolates.

Everyone was smiling and showing off expet the man himself, sitting on his throne almost frowning.

"So, what'd you get, Eddie?" You giggled, not noticing how saddened and frustrated he looked. "What do you think?!" He scowled, arms crossed on his chest.

"I didn't get shit. I'm just sitting my ass here, like always watching you get everything."

He said, leaning back in his throne and looking at you a bit, expecting sympathy. Everyone went silent, and as he expected, you looked at him with sympathy and shame. Ashamed of how you had shown off your cards and chocolates.

"God damn. I hate this stupid day." He muttered, turning his head to the other side, feeling pretty upset.

He didn't talk again for a bit, just sitting with a cold stare at the wall. "Sorry, Eddie.." you muttered. Dustin swallowed and decided to say something. "Should we get on with the campaign now?" He asked.

"Yeah-yeah- sure. We have nothing else to do, anyways." He said, sounding a bit annoyed with himself.

"God, sorry. Yeah. We should start. We got a lot to do today. Just- nevermind. I'm okay. Let's just do this campaign."

The eight of you nodded and waited for Eddie to start the new D&D campaign he had praised himself for the entire week. Eddie took a deep breath and looked at all of you, nodding.

"So, everyone's ready? All here?"

He asked, sounding enthusiastic, a way to distract himself from Valentines Day. "Yeah." You said, after counting all of Eddie's so-called 'sheep'.

"Okay, cool, cool. So." He rubbed his hands together, a large grin on his face, though his mood from before still kind of lingered.

"As you finally got out from the cave, you were all standing in a green field-..."

♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡

You were up all night crafting something for Eddie. It had to be good. It had to be perfect. You told yourself as you sat up by your desk gluing and painting.

You made a homemade heart-shaped box and painted the logo for HellFire in the middle of it. Then, filled it with chocolates and a small jar. Inside the jar there were small, midevial looking letters where you had written all the things you like about him. After hours of painting and writing, you put the last thing inside the box. A love letter.

All the while, you'd have a big smile on your face thinking of how happy Eddie will be. You were sure that he'd love your present, who knows? Maybe he might finally look at you as more than a friend. You couldn't wait to give it to him. You thought he'd probably appreciate some sweet gesture like that in the morning.

After a few more last touches, you called it done. You sat the box on your nightstand so you knew you wouldn't forget it tomorrow morning.

After a little bit of insomnia, you finally fell asleep, excited for the next morning, and finally getting to give Eddie the present you've worked on for hours.

♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡

You wake up with the biggest smile on your face, remembering the present right away. You quickly get dressed, wanting to go and hand him the box as soon as possible.

You grab some breakfast on the way, hoping you get to him fast enough. You barely finished eating before rushing out to your car and driving across the town to get to Eddie's trailer. When you got there and knocked on the door, your anxiety kicked in. What if he didn't like the box? What if he thought you did it because no one else did? What if he didn't like you like that?

Those thoughts and more kept rushing through your head, heart beating fast in anticipation for what might happen.

After a while, you heard some shuffling through the trailer. The door opened after a bit, and Eddie stood on the other side. He looked exhausted. You hadn't even thought about how early it was. All the thoughts disappeared from your head, however, as the look on his face turned to surprise as he saw you.

"Hey, Eddie.." You chuckled nervously, holding the box out to him. He looked down at the box curiously. A smile then crept onto his face and he took it from you.

"For me?" He said, a bit curious and surprised. "For- for you, yeah.." you said nervously, scared of how he'd react to your love letter. "Thank you." He said a bit stunned, and then he looked down at the box again before back at you.

"It's early, um, mind if I open it later?" He said, looking tired and a little bit out of it still.

Your heart ached with anxiety and slight pain. "Y-yeah, sure." You mumbled. "Thanks." He said before yawning wide, and his eyes began to flutter shut.

After a quick goodbye, he closed the door, leaving you to walk to your car and drive home upset. A small bit of hope still lingering, hoping that he'll actually look at it later. But Eddie was forgetful when it came to things like this. You probably wasted an entire night on making that box just for Eddie to never open it.

When it got to evening, that last bit of hope that he'd open the box began to disappear. You felt bad that you wasted all that time on it, wishing that he would actually look at it. But he didn't, and he probably didn't care much anyway.

You sighed and decided to call him.The phone rang a bit before Eddie picked up.

"Hey, what's up?" He asked after you said hello. "I know you've forgotten and this is kinda fucking important, so go open that box I gave you.. if you get surprised or something, live with that, I've got too much anxiety right now to deal with that." You said before hurriedly hanging up.

Eddie looked down at his phone, quite surprised at your sudden aggression. He didn't expect that at all.

Feeling a but hesitant, he walked into his room and over to the nightstand. He picked up the box and looked over at it for a moment before he finally opened it, careful and slow, expecting what the surprise might be.

He stared at the contents of the box as his eyes widened and he froze, not really sure what to feel.

The love letter, the chocolates, and the little surprises caught him by surprise, and he didn't really know what to do in the moment.

Feeling a bit overwhelmed by everything, he took a deep breath and closed the box, stilThe emotions just hit him like a truck.

He suddenly looked overwhelmed by everything, all the things you went through just for him.

Eddie just stood frozen, thinking at how much you really do love him, even with all the crap he puts you through.

As tears welled up in his eyes, a feeling of guilt washed over him. He couldn't believe that you had gone this far for someone like him, for him.

Eddie couldn't hold back, and the tears began to fall. The sudden rush of realization that you truly love him hit him hard, and he just bawled his eyes out, unable to control the emotions.

In that moment of weakness as he cried into his hands, he couldn't help but wonder, "Why me?"

After a bit, Eddie managed to calm himself. He still had tears on his face as he wiped with them with his sleeve.

Finally, he pulled himself together and looked at the open box again.

He picked up the jar and pulled out the love letter to finally read it.The love letter really struck him in the heart.

He could actually feel that love pouring out of it, like there was nothing else on earth that mattered more than you felt for him.

Eddie felt his eyes well up yet again, it was a bit embarrassing.

"To: Eddie.

For once in my life, I don’t have to try to be happy. When I’m with you, it just happens. Your Lips? I kiss that. Your body? I hug that. My smile? You cause that. Your heart? I want that. In a sea of people, my eyes will always be searching for you. I’m so confused. I don’t know what to do. All I know is I wanna be with you. You make me smile whenever you're around. I could just sit and watch you without making a sound. I could talk to you for hours about nothing at all. You make me feel so comfortable into your arms, I wish I could crawl. I miss you when you’re gone. I miss you when you’re near. If we are together, we will have nothing to fear. So I guess I’m finally telling you I’m being real and true. Not only do I like you, I’m completely head over heels in love with you."

The love letter just overwhelmed him more and more.

He couldn't believe that after all this time thinking he was just a freak and that no one could like him, that this was his reality.

He could hardly hold back his tears of joy as he read the entire thing.

"God damn, this is it. She finally said it. She really likes me." He thought, happy tears flowing down his cheeks. As he finished the letter, he finally looked at all the contents in the box, his emotions still overflowing.

"Damn..." He muttered to himself, just overwhelmed with joy now that he really knew how she felt. He really couldn't believe that she could like him like this, he almost felt like he didn't deserve it.

His tears of joy started to dry up and he wiped all the tears with his sleeve, finally starting to calm down as he looked at the box again.

"She really went through all this for me..." He thought to himself, staring at the jar and the chocolates. He looked back over at the love letter again, feeling his heart flutter.

This was the happiest he felt in so long.

Finally, after this long time, someone really likes him.

"And- and here I thought being a freak, I'd just be alone for the rest of my life... She really... She really likes me..." He whispered to himself, smiling wide and his heart beating so fast. He set the box down and leaned against the nightstand and just took a moment to breathe.

This was the best he'd felt in years. Someone really liked him! What a feeling! He never thought that would happen, he really didn't think he was good enough for that.

But now, things seemed possible... The feeling was so overwhelming for him, he couldn't think straight. All these emotions just rushed the moment he saw the letter.

He felt like crying all over again, but he didn't wanna cry anymore.

He grabbed his phone, thinking about finally texting you and telling you all the things you mean to him. Just to thank you, or at least try. As he finally opened the text box and typed up the message, he stared at the screen.

He didn't know how to fully put it into words, but he had to try right?

He typed up the message slowly and sent it off to you.

He set the phone down and waited in anticipation to see how you'd react once you got it. After just a few minutes, his phone started ringing.

"Hm?" He said, looking at his phone.

He picked it up and checked the caller id, noticing it was you.

"Hey, um, what's up?" He said, his heart beating fast all over again, nervous of how you'd react. "Hey.. so, uh... my gift wasn't a bad idea, huh?" You chuckled nervously.

"Bad idea?" His voice sounded shocked for a moment as he laughed lightly too.

"It's literally the best thing I've ever received in my life." He said, truly meaning it.

"There's just so much to say to you, I don't even think you will fully understand just how much you mean to me." He added, still looking at the texts he sent you.

"Can I come over?" You asked nervously. In your head, you'd go to his place, and you'd cuddle all night while watching movies on the thick TV in his living room.

Eddie went silent for a moment, thinking about everything and what you asked.

He took a deep breath, thinking, "Oh God, oh God, OH GOD! She wants to come over! What do I do?!"

"Uhm... Yeah, I..." He stuttered, not sure how to finish his sentence. "Thanks." You giggled and hung up once more, immediately putting on some comfy but pretty clothes and rushing to your car, again.

Eddie quickly sat there in his bed staring at the phone, processing everything.

"Oh god, she's coming over. She- she wants to come over! Oh God, oh God!!"

He got himself out of the bed quickly, frantically putting on some clothes to look presentable when she gets here. He took some breath mints and sprayed himself with cologne a few times.

"Oh god, what should I do when she gets here?! How do I act?" He paced around the room now, just waiting nervously for her. He would check his phone every few seconds, thinking about her on the way over and how he's going to act when she gets here.

"Should I be calm? Should I be excited? What does one even do in this situation!? What do I talk about? I have to be so goddamn careful." He berated himself as he paced around the room, his anxiety kicking in.

He took yet another deep breath, checking the time. She should be here soon. He was sweating profusely now from his nervousness, and he was getting annoyed with himself.

Okay, Eddie. Calm, calm, calm...

After a few minutes, the doorbell rang.

He froze immediately from his pacing, thinking of nothing but the fact she was actually here.

He walked to the door and opened it with shaky hands and a big smile.

"Hey, uhm, h-hi." He said, not sure how to handle this, but he was glad you were actually here. "Hi.." you answered, just as nervous. His heart was racing, not knowing what to say. Should he invite you in, or should he just talk to you here?

"W-wanna come inside?" He asked, not wanting to sound rude by not inviting you in.

"Y-yeah.." you chuckled and stepped inside. Eddie immediately shut the door behind you.

"Oh um- follow me." He said as he began to walk towards the living room, letting you follow. She was actually here, and the thought is still a bit surreal to him. You followed him, sitting down very close to him.

"So- uhm, I just wanted to say..." His voice was shaky, it felt like he didn't have full control over the things he wanted to say to you.

"Thank you, for everything. For coming here and... And liking me like this, and for actually being here." He stuttered, feeling his emotions getting the better of him. You built up some confidence and decided that this was enough awkwardness. So you kissed him.

The kiss took him completely off guard and he froze with wide eyes for a second, but he quickly relaxed when the kiss continued.

His breath caught, and he held his hands to the side of you, gently caressing the back of your neck.

He was still very much surprised, but he couldn't resist your lips. You smiled against his lips. But the way his hands were moving over you made you feel sensitive to his touch. His hands began to move up and down your back. He couldn't help but caress your body as his lips stayed tightly pressed to yours. The kiss lasted long enough that he could really get lost in the emotion, and the feeling that someone really liked him like this was almost unreal to him.

When you pulled away, there was a string of saliva connecting you and heavy breaths filling the room. His breath was shaky and his face red from the kiss.

"That was..." He said softly, but he didn't finish the sentence.

He leaned back a bit and stared into your eyes, not breaking eye contact. And then he leaned forward again a bit for another kiss. Your eyes fluttered shut as he kissed you again. You moaned softly against his lips as they connected once more. His lips pressed to yours with a bit more force as he moved forward into you.

His hands moved to your waist now as he pulled you in closer. His breathing got heavy, and he kept kissing you as he took over.

You laid down against the sofa, and Eddie followed. Putting almost all his weight on you as he kept your lips on his. He did lay his entire weight onto you as he kissed you, you being pinned beneath him as he couldn't stop. The kiss felt like it went on forever, but he still wanted more.

His lips and his tongue moved in unison with each other, the heat rising between the two of you as his hands moved back to your neck.

You moaned softly against his lips as the intensity of the kiss grew. Your clothes were on the floor within just five minutes of making out.

Eddie leaned down and pressed a few kisses to your neck, causing you to shudder and let out a delightful purr. One that stirs not just the pit of his guts but in his boxers, too.

He presses two more kisses to your neck, open-mouthed, wet, and claiming he sucks hickeys into two sensitive spots. The hickeys made your eyes slightly roll back, and you let out not only another purr but a gasp of his name.

He has a feeling he knows what you want, but he's not ready to give it to you yet.

He moves from your neck, trilingual kisses down your right shoulder, tongue lathing against your skin before peppering more kisses. Kisses in paths down your brests until it's time to give both of them individual attention. A tweak of a nipple to the right one, a scrape of the teeth to the left one. He loves the way you respond. The way you gasp and moan his name like a chant.

Eddie continues his path downwards with one last kiss against each of your tits. His path leaves you breathless.

You grow inpatient as he takes his time, pressing kisses down your stomach and to the place you need him the most. "Eddie," you whispered. Voice full of need.

"What's the word, sweetheart? You know what to say if you want it.." Eddie groaned.

You sigh and bite your bottom lip gently. You don't want to give in to him so easily. Your eyes meet his brown ones, and you breathe out the one word he wants to hear. "Please."

The word "please" sent him over the edge.

Every muscle in his body was tense and his breath was still shaken. The sound of that single word was enough to make him lose the last bit of composure he had.

He looked down at you, his eyes full of desire and want for all of you. Eddie dipped down to your soaking cunt, first gathering your slick on his fingers and sucking them clean. Then he started eating you out like a starved man. His tongue lapping up all your slick and swirling your sensitive bud. You had heard that Eddie was good at this, but not that he had sex skills of a God.

You moaned and writhed under him, eyes rolled back and mouth slightly agape. Gasping, whimpering, and moaning as he ate you out. His tongue dipped into your entrance and started lapping up everything he could get to before pulling out and pushing two fingers inside instead.

As his fingers pumped in and out of your cunt, he sucked and toyed with your clit until you were gasping that you were gonna cum. "That's it.. fucking soak my face, baby." Eddie groaned and went back to sucking your bud.

Doing exactly as he said, you came all over his face with a breathless moan. He pulled his fingers out and sucked off your nectar like it was a necessity.

Eddie ridded himself of his boxers. Saying he was big was an understatement. He was *huge*. The biggest you'd seen.

He inspected your pussy for just a few seconds before deciding to gently slide into you. Bottoming out with a groan.

"This what you wanted, princess?" He grabbed your jaw and squeezed slightly. "Already too fucked out to answer? That's okay, I got you."

You barely nodded as he dipped his head down and caught one of your nipples in your mouth, biting a little harshly on the bud. "Ngh, Eddie.." Arching your back, pushing your chest further into his face, he pulled off with a pop.

"What, too much?" He said in a mocking tone. "Jus' want you.." Your hands grabbed at his chest and shoulders. "But I'm right here, sweetheart?" He looked confused.

You shook your head and wrapped your legs around his waist, pushing him impossibly deeper into your cunt. "Fuck.. just need me, hm? I can do that.."

He began to roll his hips, your pussy sucking him in with each push. His face hovered over yours, studying your pinched brows and puffy, kiss bitten lips parting softly. He kissed your cheek and then the other. Any other teasing comments died on his tongue once his eyes roved over you, halting his movements momentarily so he could speak clearly. "Love you, sweets."

You smiled at that. “I love you too, Eds.” You giggled as he held your cheek and began peppering kisses across your face. “Valentine's day got you all mushy, huh baby?” Eddie grinned and kept his hips moving ever so slightly. "Mmmh.. guess so.." you muttered.

He started picking up his thrusts, hitting that perfect spot inside you every time, making both of you moan out. "You close, baby? You gonna cum f'me?" He asked with a few grunts.

“More…” you whined out.“Oh, now she wants more.” He chuckled, gaze turning a little more dark as he said it. “Mmhmmm… need more.” You choked out as he moved out of you just for a moment to get a better angle.

He quickly sat up, pushing both of your knees to your chest, his thick cock pushed back into your tight cunt. In one swift motion, giving you no time to think. “That's it… mmm… she's gripping now. C’mon baby. Soak my cock.”

With the new angle, he set a brutal pace, as broken moans rang out with the sounds of your soaked pussy being pounded into oblivion. He reached up, placing his thumb between your lips, as you quickly sucked it into your mouth, swirling your tongue around the digit. "That's it.. get it nice 'n wet for Daddy." He groaned.

“Be a good girl. Come for daddy and I'll fill this pussy full. Let everyone know you let the freak wreck your tight little cunt.” He growled into your ear.

You hummed as he brought his thumb down to your clit. Immediately pushing harsh circles to your swollen nub.

“Oh fuck, Eddie!” His words straight to your aching core.Your orgasm hits with a blinding force, those fireworks burst behind your eyes as your pussy strangles his cock.

He lets out a low growl as his balls tighten for his impending release. His cock twitches as it paints your walls with thick, white ropes.

He put your legs down and laid his full weight on top of you once more. The both of you were catching your breath as you laid there in awe of what had just happened.

"Happy late Valentine's.." you breathed, stroking his long, brown curls.

"Happy late Valentine's Day..." He smiled at you, looking at you from his head laying on your chest, feeling the heat in his face fade just a little bit and his breathing finally slowing down.

He felt his muscles relax as he lay his ear on your chest, his hand moving down to touch your thigh. He finally felt happy that he could be like this with you now.

"I love you." He said softly, his hand moving closer to your hips, but you never really felt it as you were still laying there after the intense session you just had.

"Love you too.." you said, kissing his cheek. He smiled, his eyes closed now as he felt his body relax.

He thought to himself for a moment, now the feeling of happiness and love kicking in with the dopamine running in his brain.

He sighed happily and nuzzled a bit into your chest, the feeling of just laying here with you was more than enough to make him feel content and loved.

♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~

Tag list: @reidsbtch @rogueddie

Thanks for helping me.

[sequinsmile-x]

Aftertaste

Everything changes in an instant. The pleasant warmth she’d been feeling, the arousal burning in her veins, immediately replaced by ice, panic washing over her at the combination of the whiskey on his breath and the compliment that had once belonged to another man.

Emily has a panic attack.

-x-

Hi friends,

This is another one of those ideas that kind of came to me on a night when I couldn't sleep. (I'm currently doing the very grown up thing of buying my first home and the anxiety is crippling so your gal isn't sleeping.) So, welcome to another part of the insomnia chronicles.

Please let me know what you think <3

-x-

Words: 4.5k

Warnings: Trauma, PTSD, panic attack

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

He was even softer than she thought he’d be. 

She’d known him long enough to have seen it. To see the tender way he treated his son, how he’d been the same with Haley during the few times Emily had seen them as a couple. For years she allowed herself the fantasy of how he’d be with her, how he’d be gentle in a way no one else would ever know she wanted or needed. He’d exceeded her expectations over the last few weeks, treating her like she was made of something precious but never tripping over into treating her like she was fragile. 

She already knew she was in love with him, had known it for much longer than she cared to admit even to herself, but she couldn’t say it yet. The words trapped in her chest, buried under the rubble of all those that came before him, all those who had helped forge the walls she’d built around herself, the tools first handed to her by her mother before she was old enough to understand. 

She can’t bring herself to let go of him, her arms wrapped around him from behind, her cheek pressed against his shoulder as he digs through his pockets for the key to his apartment. 

“You said Jack is with Jess tonight?” She murmurs, kissing him through his jacket, breathing in the comforting scent of him, the vibration of his response passing back from his chest into hers. 

“Yes, she’s bringing him home in the morning,” he replies, pushing the door open before he turns in her arms, his smile soft as he presses it against hers, his hands on her lower back as he spins them, gently pushing her into the apartment first, “He said he’s excited for breakfast with you tomorrow,” he kisses her cheek before he unwraps himself from around her to lock his front door, “I told him we’d go to that diner he likes.”

Emily smiles nervously, an uncharacteristic shake to it, “And you’re sure-”

“Em,” he says, cutting her off with an understanding grin. He’d assured her more than once that Jack loved her, that he always wanted to spend time with her, especially now she was his father’s girlfriend, “I think you’re his favourite person on the planet. He loves spending time with you.” 

She presses her lips together to try to contain her smile, her cheeks warm with love for both of them, “I love spending time with him too.”

He hums, his hands on her hips as he tugs her closer, “Just him?”

Her smile turns teasing, her tongue pressed against the back of her teeth as she shrugs, “You too I guess.” 

He swallows her yelp as he pulls her into a kiss, his hands moving to her back as they lose themselves in each other. When he breaks the kiss he rests his forehead against hers, “Drink?” 

She nods, her tongue peeking out to lick her lower lip, chasing the taste of him whilst he grabs her hand and leads her towards the couch. As soon as she’s sitting down he tries to move, his hand slipping out of hers, but she stops him, the thought of not touching him too much to bear. She kisses him, a hand on each of his cheeks as he leans over the couch, holding him in place as he boxes her in. She stamps another kiss against his lower lip as he pulls away, smiling as she nips at the plushness of it, “I’ll take that drink now.”

He smiles, his dimples forming under her touch, the perfect size for her thumbs to sit, and he nods, “Do you want anything in particular or shall I surprise you?” 

She hums as she lets him go, feeling oddly bereft when he steps away, leaving coolness in his place as he walks the short distance to the bar cart, “What have you got?” 

“Well, Dave got me some whiskey for my birthday last year that I’ve never opened,” he says, reaching past the bottles neatly lined up on the front of the cart, “It always seemed too nice to drink alone, but…”

She stops hearing him when he shows her the bottle. The red glass momentarily makes her freeze, and the small gold bird on the label pulls her back in time. Aaron’s deep honey-coloured eyes are briefly replaced with icy blue ones, a flash of the past in between blinks that makes her breath catch in her chest. 

“Em, are you okay?”

She swallows thickly and looks at him, already nodding before she’s really sure, “I’m fine,” she says as she forces a smile, carrying on before he can ask again, “That’s an expensive bottle. Dave must have dropped at least a $1,000 on it.” 

He nods as he pulls the tag in the red foil around the neck of the bottle, “He told me it was $1,150,” he smiles wryly, “He likes to tell me how expensive things are in an attempt to make me feel uncomfortable,” his smile gets wider as she laughs, some of the tension in her chest easing, “I didn’t know you knew anything about speciality whiskeys.” 

Her mouth goes dry, her tongue heavy as she tries and fails to think of a way to respond. She didn’t know about whiskey, not really, but she knew this one. It was Ian’s favourite, something she was sure had everything to do with the price tag attached to it rather than the taste of the liquor itself. He’d always loved the finer things in life, always wanted the most expensive looking thing possible to improve his image. She knew she had counted as one of those things. It was why he’d bought her only the best clothes, never asking once if she liked any of them before he presented her with them, dressing her up as if she belonged to him. 

The scar on her chest aches, burning as if it were fresh, the smell of charred flesh briefly filling her senses before Aaron sinks on the couch next to her, passing her one of the glasses in his hand - a generous measure of whiskey in each. 

“Thanks,” she says, smiling as she takes it, staring at the amber liquid, “You know, I would have been happy with a normal $40 bottle of whiskey. They all taste the same over that price point anyway.” 

“I know,” he replies as he leans in to kiss her, the scent of his cologne washing over her, replacing anything else as she sinks into it, turning so she curls into his side, her hand on his thigh. His eyebrows knit together as he pulls back, a flicker of concern thrumming under his skin as she practically clings to him, her grip on his leg tight, “Are you sure you’re okay?” 

She nods, watching as he takes a swig of his drink, her gaze fixed on his Adam's apple when it shifts as he swallows. She doesn’t want to get into it, doesn’t want Ian to ruin what had been a perfect date with her boyfriend by bringing him up, his presence already having inevitably wormed into their very first one just a few weeks ago when Aaron saw her naked for the first time. He swore he only saw her, his touch gentle and kind as he skimmed his fingers over her scars. She hadn’t believed him until he took off his shirt and she saw his, Foyet the furthest thing from her mind as she took in how beautiful he was. 

She’s moving before she thinks about it, grabbing the glass from him and placing it down with hers on the coffee table. Before he can question what she’s doing she’s straddling him, her knees bracketing his hips as she sinks into his lap. She wraps her arms around his neck and kisses him before he can say anything else, sighing contentedly when he wraps his arms around her, his fingertips from his spanned-out hands almost touching each other over her spine.  She can taste the whiskey on his tongue but it’s chased by him, the final notes of it something she was already used to and aching to have for the rest of her life. 

He encourages her upwards, his hands squeezing her hips as they stand together, moving in tandem as he ends up behind her, his chest against her back, “Bedroom.” 

She’s so focused on him, on the way his palm is warm through the material of her dress, on his lips pressing against her collarbone, that she simply nods in response. Sure her voice would give away how much she wanted him, her desire lodged in her throat. When they make it to his room he turns her, his touch gentle yet insistent as he tugs her dress over her head, his pupils blown wide as he looks her up and down. 

“Beautiful,” he mumbles, the word half pressed against her lips as he encourages her backwards, the back of her knees hitting the bed as he guides her down, his hands on her back as she arches up into him, “So beautiful.” 

She’d always been complimented on her appearance. It started before she was old enough to understand the currency of it. Men her mother was friends with telling her she was pretty before she knew how her face and her body would be both something she could weaponise as well as something that could be used against her. Ian had always called her gorgeous. The word spat out amongst curse words whenever they fucked, the compliment she’s sure he meant lost somewhere along the way. 

Aaron always called her beautiful. It made her skin flush, warmth spreading from her cheeks down her neck whenever he said it, and something about the way he looked at her made her believe him every time. A sense of awe shining back at her as if he was looking at a piece of priceless art in a museum, hidden behind glass she’d placed in front of herself after one too many people had tried to ruin her. 

She smiles and pulls him in for a kiss, spreading her legs so he can settle between them, the weight of him against her as much of a comfort as anything else. She hooks a leg around him, smirking as their kiss breaks and he ruts his hips against hers, her teeth sinking into her lower lip as their eyes meet, 

“Do you like the lingerie?” She asks, even though she knows the answer, the heavy weight of him against her hip obvious even through his pants, “I bought it for you.” 

He growls at the admission as he looks her up and down, taking in the forest green lace cupping her breasts and hugging her hips, and pride pulses through her. The fact she could do this to him, the most controlled man she’d ever met, enough to make her burst. He leans in, his kiss more passionate this time, forceful in a way that makes her moan, and she holds him closer. He pulls back just enough to speak, his breath skipping across her face. 

“You’re gorgeous.” 

Everything changes in an instant. The pleasant warmth she’d been feeling, the arousal burning in her veins, immediately replaced by ice, panic washing over her at the combination of the whiskey on his breath and the compliment that had once belonged to another man. She can smell smoke and fear and burned flesh and she feels herself folding inwards, her chest collapsing as Aaron’s weight above her is suddenly oppressive. She’s brought back the moment he kisses her neck, a shiver passing through her for all the wrong reasons as she shies away from it, her hands forceful on his shoulders, her foot now pushing at his hip, as she tries to get free. 

“Stop,” she chokes out, her voice sounding nothing like her own, “Aaron, stop.” 

She needn’t have asked the second time, he was already moving, but she does. She barely looks at him as she scrambles off the bed, her chest tight as she tries to breathe. 

“Em? Are you okay? What’s wrong?” 

She ignores his questions and looks for an exit, her eyes land on the door to the en-suite and she’s moving before she can think about it, her legs carrying her of her own accord. She slams the door shut behind her and locks it, the heavy wood muffling his continued attempts to talk to her. She turns and leans against it, her head hitting it with a heavy thunk before she sinks to the floor, the cool tile against her ass and thighs a stark reminder she was only wearing her lingerie. 

She hugs her legs to her chest and rests her forehead on her knees as she encourages herself to breathe. 

“Em?” 

A shaky breath rattles in her chest, “Aaron.”

She can hear how it sounds as close to begging as she’s ever come to with him, desperation laced into every syllable. She knows he hears it too as he replies, his voice soft and even as if he’s purposely trying to make himself small to not intimidate her, even through the door. 

“I’m not going to force my way in or make you talk to me, I just need to know if you’re hurt, sweetheart.” 

Guilt swells in her chest, the fear and concern leaking from him makes its way to the door between them, causing it to swell and warp to the point she’s briefly worried she’ll never get out, stuck on this side of the space she’s forced between them.

She swallows thickly, “I’m not hurt.” 

There’s a beat of silence that draws out around her, almost long enough that she thinks he’s left until he speaks, “I’ll leave something for you to wear out here. I’ll be in the living room when you’re ready.” 

She doesn’t respond, doesn’t know how to, his kindness almost cutting, making her feel worse for a reaction to something she hadn’t known would trigger her. She doesn’t know how long she sits there on his bathroom floor, the coolness of the tile against her skin something she hangs on to, an anchor in reality, as she reminds herself that Ian is gone. She’d watched him die. That he’d lost and she’d won and now she had this. A man she knew loved her even though neither of them had said it yet. A man who had looked devastated at the thought of hurting her, his pained expression something she’d caught even in the height of her panic. 

She eventually scrambles off of the floor, her legs slightly shaky beneath her, and she unlocks the door and steps out into the bedroom. She walks over to the bed and sees her discarded dress folded neatly next to a pair of his boxers and her favourite shirt of his. It makes her ache that he’s given her options even in this - the comfort of him or herself - when he doesn’t understand what has happened. She slips on his clothes, taking the time to bury her face against the collar of his shirt, breathing him in, letting it wash over her before she leaves the bedroom. 

He’s sitting on the couch when she makes it to the living room, the bottle of whiskey no longer on the table, hidden away back in it’s place on the bar cart. The glasses are gone too, and she spots them on the draining board. She briefly wonders if he drank any more of the whiskey, but then she smells the coffee in the air and then she sees the half drunk mug of it in front of him. She can picture him cleaning to keep himself busy whilst she sat on his bathroom floor, spurred on by worry for her that stopped him from sitting still, deciding to make coffee that she hopes is decaf just to pass more time. 

He looks over at her, his elbows resting on his knees. He looks wrung out, stress painted into the fine lines on his face, and she watches as he tries to force himself to relax, rolling his shoulders as he tries to shrink his frame. She blows out a breath and walks over, the cuffs of his shirt wrapped around her hands as she sits on the coffee table, his knees bracketing hers as she wraps her arms around herself, her mouth opening and closing a few times before she finds the words she’s looking for.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers, “I…I’m sorry.”

He shakes his head and his hand twitches, reaching out for her before he stops himself, his hand forming a fist by his side, “You have nothing to apologise for, Em,” he says, his voice rough, “I just…what happened?” 

She knows if she said she didn’t want to talk about it that he’d drop it, that he’d let it go at least for now, and for a moment she’s tempted. Old habits that died hard calling her back, the empty promises the always offered her a lure she could never quite say no to, somehow never learning that the loneliness they brought weren’t worth the independence they gave her. She shakes it off because she doesn’t want to do that. She wants to tell him, wants him to know this part of her, to let him learn with her the parts of the new version of herself with her. 

She reaches out and grabs his hand, smiling softly as she links their fingers together, “I need you to understand this wasn’t your fault,” she starts with, squeezing his hand tighter when he frowns before he forces a tight nod, “The whiskey?” She says, biting the inside of her cheek, “It was Ian’s favourite. He drank it most nights.” 

Aaron’s hand loosens it grip on hers, the his shoulders slump no longer a conscious attempt to make himself small and unimposing, but his natural reaction to causing her any kind of discomfort. 

“Em,” he breathes out, her name like oxygen he can’t afford to lose as he shakes his head, “Why didn’t you tell me before I opened it? I never would have-”

“I know,” she assures him, wrapping both of her hands around his, “I know, but I didn’t think it would…” she presses her lips together and shakes her head, “I didn’t know that would happen.” She almost doesn’t tell him the rest of it, his reaction to just the whiskey itself enough to break her heart, to cause fractures he had healed to split back open. She knows she has to if she wants this to work, that she doesn’t want to put either of them in this position again, “He…he always called me gorgeous when we were…” she closes her eyes, embarrassment she knows she shouldn’t feel colouring her cheeks, “When we had sex. He’d always call me that. And-”

“I called you gorgeous,” he says, only remembering that he had as she says it, something he’d mumbled against her skin in the heat of the moment.

She nods, her gaze meeting his again, “I think that mixed in with the smell of the whiskey triggered something in my brain,” she hates that she can feel tears burning in her eyes, that this makes her feel so vulnerable in front of a man she’d already been intimate with, but she doesn’t try and stop it, disconnecting one of her hands from around his to wipe her cheek as the tears fall. 

“Sweetheart, I am so sorry,” he rasps, sounding close to tears himself, and she moves forward, sitting on the edge of the table so her knees are jammed up against the couch, her forehead against his, the last bit of tension in her chest dissipating at the smell of coffee on his breath, “I didn’t know.”

“You have nothing to apologise for, honey,” she assures him, “I didn’t know that was going to happen, so how could you?”

He kisses her forehead, the first time he’s touched her of his own accord since she’d walked into the living room, and then he pulls her as close as he can in the strange embrace they’d found themselves in, “We know now.” 

She smiles softly at the firmness in his tone, as if he was determined to remove the word gorgeous from his vocabulary entirely and swear he’d never drink expensive whiskey again. 

She captures his lips in a quick kiss, “Yeah, we know now,” she kisses him again before she stands, encouraging him backwards until she can sit in his lap, her knees on either side of his hips, a position they’d been in just before this all started. Instead of initiating a kiss she curls herself up, her cheek against his chest as she wraps herself around him, intent on being as close as possible. “Thank you for…stopping so quickly,” she says, her smile tight as she pulls away just enough to look up at him, unsure why she feels something close to embarrassed, “I appreciate it.” 

He frowns, the line between his eyebrows so deep she can’t help but reach out and soothe it, her thumb pressed against the bridge of his nose, “You don’t have to thank me for that.”

She thinks she somehow falls even more in love with him because of how incredulous he looks, and she stops herself from telling him, already feeling far too exposed for one evening, “Aaron, honey, you remember what we do for a living right?” She runs her fingers through his hair, “Not everyone stops.” 

He tightens his hold on her, questions she knows he won’t ask now pressed against her skin through the thin material of the shirt that she is wearing, “If there is ever anything else…” he says, his jaw tight, a ripple of self hatred passing through it, “You’ll tell me?” 

She nods pushing her fingers through his hair again, “Unless you take up smoking and dealing in the illegal weapons trade, I think we’ll be okay,” she jokes, her smile faltering when his lips barely twitch with it, the heaviness of what had happened dragging the corners of it down, “I’ll tell you,” she assures him, her lips catching the edge of his jaw as she leans in, determined to remove the tension from it, “I promise.” 

He kisses the top of her head, holding her close, touching her like she was made of glass, “Shall we get some sleep?” 

She knows this isn’t the end of this, that there is more to discuss beyond what had happened tonight, things they still had to learn about each other, but for now she wants it to be over. Wants to fall asleep in his arms, her face pressed against his neck. Comforted by the knowledge that even if her blue eyed monster visited her in her dreams, the smell of whiskey and danger the harbinger she may never truly be free from, that she’d wake up to Aaron and the love he gave her so freely. A debt she’d always repay without question, taking it in turns to be each other’s solid ground. 

“Yeah,” she says, kissing him, “Let’s get some sleep.” 

___

When she wakes up in the morning, she’s alone in bed, the coolness of the sheets only improved by the smell of him lingering on them. 

She wanders out into the apartment, bleary eyed and confused when it’s cold, every window open and letting in the cool morning air. She finds him in the kitchen, the now empty whiskey bottle disappearing from view almost immediately as he throws it into the recycling bin, the thick, expensive glass thunking against the bottom of it. She understands now why he’d opened all the windows in the early spring, the usual warmth of his apartment nowhere to be found. He hadn’t wanted her to smell the liquor in the air, had made sure to remove every reminder of it and she knew if she hadn’t woken up when she had he would have taken the recycling out too. 

“Aaron,” she exclaims, her eyes wide as he turns to look at her, unaware she’d even walked into the room, the sound of the street outside having drowned out her footsteps, “That was worth over $1,000.” 

She isn’t sure why she’s saying it, her gaze still fixed on the now empty bottle, the red neck of it peeking out from the recycling. She only realises he’s in front of her when he hooks his thumb under her chin, encouraging her to look up at him. 

“I don’t care about that,” he says, sounding so sure she can’t think of one reason to argue with him, “I care about you. I never want to…” 

He trails off, his hands tight on her hips as they migrate there as if magnetised, and she nods, wrapping her arms around his neck, her body pressed against his, seeking out his warmth in the cold, “I know,” she replies, stamping her lips against his, “I…thank you.”

It’s not lost on her that he’s thrown away something that was a gift, something he’d kept in the back of his bar cart for a special occasion, and that he’d done it without a second thought. So sure of her, of them, that he hadn’t considered anything else. 

“You don’t have to thank me, sweetheart,” he says, his eyebrows furrowed as if it was ridiculous, as if it wasn’t one of the kindest things anyone had ever done for her, past partner’s resistance to even pick up a box of tampons for her on their way home even more absurd than before, “It’s what you do for someone you lo…”

She fights a smile when he trails off, catching himself before he says it, panic she finds adorable flashing in his eyes. She kisses him, drawn forward as she cups the back of his head, holding him in place when she breaks the kiss. Her nose nudging against his as she says the thing that suddenly didn’t feel as revealing any more. Empowerment found in three words that she once saw only vulnerability in. 

“I love you.” 

His smile is answer enough, but he says it back, the words skipping across her skin as he repeats them, the smell of fresh coffee and her future lingering on his breath as he presses his lips against hers. 

[thelonelyshore-if]

I'll get here first! Perri NSFW Alphabet? please 🥺🙏

Perri Alphabet below the cut!!

A = Aftercare

Perri's a big cuddler. After sex they'd enjoy laying together, being a little silly and playful and flirty.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

F!Perri enjoys her hips, while M!Perri and NB!Perri are both partial to their stomachs. As for their partner, Perri is kind of obsessed with hands.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

The idea of being covered in a partner's cum drives Perri insane.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Nobody knows how kinky they are. They sort of feel like they haven't earned it, since they've never even had sex before.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Perri is a virgin! So everything is totally new to them.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

They don't know yet! There are lots they're intrigued by, but they don't think they could pick a favorite until they've tried them.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Perri falls somewhere in the middle between serious and playful. They wouldn't mind having fun during sex and are certainly able to laugh and tease, but they also would enjoy something a little more intense/serious.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

They don't shave fully but keep it neat--and, considering their hair is often dyed some outlandish color, the carpet doesn't match the drapes lmao. Their body hair is a very light brown.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Nervous. Terrified that they're doing something wrong or they're going to embarrass themself. At least, at first. After they've done it a few times, Perri is VERY eager. Eager to please as well as eager to try new things. And they're a romantic at heart lol they'd love the more romantic aspects of sex.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Touching themself is one of the only methods that sort of works when Perri's dealing with their insomnia. It isn't a sure-fire thing, but sometimes they're actually able to get a bit of sleep after an orgasm.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Their praise kink is out of control tbh. They have plenty of others, but that's the big one.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

They're intrigued by the idea of semi-public sex. Not full blown exhibitionism, but something like a parked car? The idea makes them squirm.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Perri's motivated by a combination of things--their own sex drive, their curiosity to explore their various kinks, and, maybe more than anything else, to get closer to their partner. Physical intimacy is so appealing to them and they crave it desperately.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

There's a lot Perri would try tbh, but they're very much so not into humiliation. They've got enough insecurities on their own without adding extra ones in bed.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

They've never done it, so at first I think they'd be very hesitant and unsure of themself. The idea excites them, though, and Perri's a fast learner. Ultimately I think they'll end up preferring giving, but only by a bit.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Fast and rough c:

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Hmmmm…sounds fun and exciting. Perri would love to slip in a quickie right before their show starts or during a commercial break. Just something fast and dirty and probably badly timed.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

There is so much Perri wants to try. That being said, they're a fairly hesitant person naturally. They'll need their partner to take the lead, at least a little bit, when it comes to anything that isn't something they're already curious about.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

F!Perri and NB!Perri can both last for several rounds. They're very eager to make up for lost time. M!Perri feels the same way, but probably needs a bit more time in between rounds to catch his breath haha.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

They have quite the extensive collection of toys! They're a collector at heart. That being said, I think they have their favorite toys and the others probably don't actually get much use.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Perri isn't super interested in teasing their partner. Edging turns them on, however; they like to be teased.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

For somebody so quiet, Perri ends up being quite loud in bed. A lot of little noises, mostly, but if you truly get them going they'll end up so overstimulated that they just babble whatever thoughts come into their head.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Perri doesn't know it yet, but eventually they'll realize how much they like being marked. Seeing leftover bites or hickies or bruises gives them an indescribable thrill.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

They'll be fairly shy about undressing, although they're fairly comfortable with their body. Their freckles are even more prominent on their body than their face, which is something most people don't know. They have a super cute tummy.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Actually fairly high, and once they've actually started sleeping with a partner it will only get higher.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Most of the time, Perri won't be able to sleep after sex at all. Their insomnia is pretty severe. On a rare occasion, though, post-sex they'll be able to cuddle up and drift off. They absolutely treasure these occasions. Being able to actually sleep with their partner is like a dream come true.