#I didn't even notice it played for like an hour straight

[apyrisol]

oh my god i got way too hyperfocused on slime rancher i forgot other people existed i forgot time existed i forgot i existed i forgot i was a person what in the hell

[eideticmemory]

SNAP OUT OF IT | SPENCER REID

Spencer knows he’s just a coworker. He knows he’s just a friend. He knows you’ve got a boyfriend. He just doesn’t really give a fuck!

Word Count: 5.5k

Warning/Includes: Taken!Reader, DownBad!Spencer, a little angst and a little smut.

Dedicated to wifetthew + future mrs stewart (and sidepiece) who inspire me everyday and don’t even realize it.

Spencer vividly remembers the moment he realized he was in love with you. Spencer remembers everything about you but this moment in particular, he recounts in his mind a lot. You had just joined the unit. He could tell you - you'd only been there three months, two weeks, and five days. You were flying across time zones so by the time you landed, it would be six days. Everyone else had fallen asleep or was nearly there. Save for you two. You tried your hand in a round of chess but you're shit at it so you'd taken to a game of cards. Spencer remembers thinking it was the easiest conversation he's ever had in his life. He could talk and talk and talk until he lost his breath and when he was done, you'd do the same until there was no air left in your lungs either. He shuffled the cards between his fingertips, hanging onto your every word, watching the sparkle in your eye as you spoke. He kept firing out subtle agreements between your words like, 'yeah...oh, I know...absolutely,’ not just because it's impossible to disagree with your pretty face but because you’re so smart. You get it. He actually had the thought: she gets it.

Finally, he thought, someone gets it.

And you felt just the same. You said to him, "Thank you for agreeing. No one ever gives a shit about my foreign film analysis."

"I...I give a shit."

You chuckled at the gentleness with which he swore and although his voice was soft, it was genuine. "I appreciate it. My boyfriend's unreasonably against the horror genre as a whole. I think it's his biggest flaw. I like being scared."

Because you were too busy counting up your cards, you couldn’t see the bright smile instantly drop from Spencer's face. He could feel the shift in his muscles, the way his eyes stretched wide. He promptly shifted his gaze down and cleared his throat, “B-boyfriend?"

"Yeah..." you shrugged. Very casual, very nonchalant. "Three years next month."

"Oh, wow," he replied and it sounded kind of snide but you didn't think much of it. “That's nice."

He had realized he was in love with you three years too late.

Spencer could have accepted defeat, yeah. Absolutely. If there's one thing the boy genius can do, it's compartmentalize. This is work. This is [y/n]. This is my coworker. This is our job. This is our jet. These are the cards we've been dealt. The best thing to do would be to play them as they fall. Yet, he keeps himself awake for six hour flights just to hold your undivided attention, to talk about things nobody else cares about. His eyes linger on you as you deliver a profile and he thinks: That's [y / n]. That's her face. That's her voice. That's the sweater that matches her eyes just right and the boots she wears when we travel down south. If there's one thing the boy genius can't do when it comes to you, it's compartmentalize. How could he?

He finds himself standing by the elevator at four in the morning. There is nothing exciting about being called in at four in the morning, save for the prospect of seeing you. The elevator dings and he stands up straight, poses his satchel just perfectly on his hip. He wants to be picture perfect ready. Like a model directly out of a Backup Boyfriend catalog. Although, when you step out, you don't even notice he's there. You storm through the bullpen, your phone held up to your ear and your head ducked down. You sequester yourself in an awkward corner, far enough that you feel secluded but not enough so that Spencer can't see you. He sways in place, an attempt to look casual, his hair tucked behind his ear so he can hear you better. He picks up strained words like, 'please...I don't know...okay...fine...bye!' It all comes to a sudden end, your thumb landing on the screen with such force that it could crack.

You seamlessly join the rest of the team, shoving your phone in your back pocket. Try as you might to shift your focus, the edge hasn't quite left your body so when Spencer asks, "You okay?" You respond with a curt, "Yeah. I'm fine.”

He thinks: That's fine. That's okay. I can take it. On the jet, you bury your nose in a case file and when your phone won't stop vibrating, you silence it completely. Spencer brings you a cup of coffee and you hardly even process it.

"Cream and extra sugar," he pips because he knows that's how you like it.

"Thanks.”

That's it. Spencer waits for more but it never comes. He sits on the opposite side of the jet, watching you pick up your phone, huff, and type, type, type in a rage. He thinks: I cannot take this.

The case is a good distraction. A relief for him to know that even when you are not yourself, you're still brilliant. You just can't help it. There's a moment where he just finishes the geographical profile and you stand at his side, arms crossed as you look it over. Your gasp cuts through the air like a knife and his eyes land on you instantaneously.

"Spencer Reid." You put your hand on his shoulder and oh, he almost drops to his knees. “You're a fucking genius."

You race out of the room and he exhales a breath he didn't even know he was holding. He grips onto his shoulder and his skin is still red hot.

A win is good. You needed a win. You all needed a win. Makes you feel good for something. Makes the flight home much less suffocating than its departure. On top of solving murders in a rush, the mental gymnastics your brain has endured over the week leaves you exhausted. You pull a blanket over your body and snuggle against the solid walls of the jet. You let out this big, heavy sigh just as Spencer sits down across from you.

“Close call today, huh?” he says.

“Yeah,” you nod. You look up at him with these bleary eyes and they’re so beautiful that he doesn’t think he’ll be able to talk.

But he does, “All thanks to you.”

You smile. You want to be bashful, to deny the praise, but you don’t have the energy. “Thanks for the pat on the back.”

“Oh, anytime.”

He watches you take another deep breath, your body lulling into further peace by the second. He hates to disrupt it. “You, uh…” he stutters. “You wanna share what’s been bothering you now?”

You glance over at him from the corner of your eye, “Is it that obvious?”

“Only to a profiler.”

You chuckle. He loves to make you laugh. “It’s nothing,” you shake your head.

“You…you know I’m the profiler, right?”

You sit up, another laugh escaping your throat without much thought. It feels nice. “Yeah. Right.”

“So?”

“I’m just…stressed…” you finally admit, though that part was evident.

“Blackjack?” He sets an array of cards in front of you.

You nod, “I have a stressful job. Hit me.”

He flips another card, “Five. Yeah, you do.”

“And…it’s hard when…when things at home are stressful, too. Makes it worse. Hit me.”

Another card, “Ooh, six. That makes sense.”

“Sometimes, I…I don’t know…I let myself get pulled in too many different directions,” you look over your cards, dangerously close to 21, and you take a leap of faith. “Hit me.”

He turns the final card over and it brings you right to 21. The way it unfolds shocks you, pulls you from your brain fog and you break out in a grin. “21? That’s 21, right?”

“Yeah,” he nods. He bites down on the smile on his lip and it’s a look on him you’ve never seen before. You can’t stop staring at it. “All you, money bags.”

You giggle, “Did you rig that?”

“Me? No,” he shakes his head, casually clearing the pile. “There’s no rigging in blackjack.”

“Oh, yeah, sure. I’ve heard that before.”

“Everything should be that easy for you,” he whispers. There’s a slight change in his tone that even an untrained profiler could pick up. He glances up to meet your gaze, “I’d rig it all for you if I could.”

Now, he thinks because he’s resetting the table that you’re not focused on the subliminal message in his voice. But you notice. You look down at your cards, look back at him, “Hit me.”

When the boyfriend is a concept, an idea trapped inside your phone, a mirage that you only mention in passing conversation, Spencer doesn’t think much of him. Spencer doesn’t think of the motherfucker at all. You clock into work and he’s determined to take the time he can get with you, any way he can, the only way he knows how.

You get back into DC one night and the sun hasn’t even set yet. Emily and JJ invite you out for drinks and it’s with an anxious nod that you accept. So Spencer super graciously accepts. He strides beside you on the walk from the bureau, keeping you tucked in on the safety of the sidewalk because he doesn’t know how to not shield you. From anything. You order a wine and a glass of water. Spencer sits right beside you and orders himself a shirley temple.

You gasp, “Ohhh my god, I should’ve got that.”

“Here,” he slides the glass over to you.

“Oh, no, no. It’s okay.”

“No, take it.”

“I can’t.”

“But I’m offering. I don’t even want it. Maraschino cherries, yuck, gross. You have it.”

You chuckle and shyly grab the drink, sticking a straw in. “Thank you.”

“Mhm,” he nods. And he means that mhm in the way of it’s really no big deal. He’d give you a kidney if he was a match.

He trades you for your water though he doesn’t pay much attention to it. He watches you fall into loud conversation with the other ladies, yours being the only laugh to match Penelope’s in pitch.

You lean into him, cackling, “She’s insane. Oh my god, she’s ridiculous.”

His skin buzzes where your shoulders make contact and his face is bright red from how wide he smiles at you. “Oh, yeah. I could’ve told you that.”

Spencer’s absolutely obsessed with the joy in your eyes, the way you nearly choke on your second shirley temple. The way you’re so close to him. He cannot look away. So when your smile suddenly drops and that joy’s promptly replaced with anxiety, he’s the first to notice.

“Hey,” you whisper to the figure behind him. He turns around and looks the man up and down. “You’re early.”

The Boyfriend shrugs, “Sorry. Hi, everyone.”

He’s not at all like Spencer imagined him. He’s taller. Not as much of a little bitch.

You rise from your seat and wrap your hand around Boyfriend’s bicep. “Uh, this is just some of the team. That’s Emily, Penelope, JJ and, uh, Spencer. This is my boyfriend.”

They all dole out polite waves and smiles. Except for Spencer. He stands up tall and ha, just as he thought, they’re the same height. He gives Boyfriend a stern handshake. “Nice to meet you.”

“Yeah, you too. Spencer? Heard a lot about you.”

“Oh, that’s nice. Haven’t heard that much about you.”

The ladies exchange confused glances and you exhale a quick breath to cut the tension.

“Well, we’ve been together a while. Too much there to sum up in words, I’m sure.”

“Oh, I’m sure,” Spencer nods and here is another smile you’ve never seen on his face before. It’s not genuine. That, you know.

“You ready to go?” Boyfriend asks and you nod.

“Mhm. Bye, you guys!” you wave, falling into the grip of the possessive hand around your waist.

Emily glares at Spencer as he lowers back onto his stool, his eyes not leaving the door even when you’re long out of sight. “You done swinging that thing around?” she mutters.

“Hm?” he hums. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Mhm.”

As Boyfriend opens the car door for you, he can’t help but comment, “So that’s Spencer, huh?”

“Yeah?” you buckle yourself in and it’s an anxious few seconds before he’s buckled in beside you.

“Well, it makes sense now.”

“What?”

“The little toothpick’s in love with you.”

Spencer doesn’t think it’s a coincidence that the time you spend on your phone at work becomes more frequent after that. That you come in looking drained and pale even at ten o’clock in the morning. That, carefully, you distance yourself from him. It’s not a coincidence. It just hurts.

As he reads over a case file, he builds a tower of cards. You can’t help but admire the way his brain splits in two, one side reading and the other stacking each piece just right. It’s cool. You think it’s cool, but there’s not a kind bone in your body today and you snip, “Got nothing better to do?” as you sit across from him. “People are dying.”

“People are always dying. Kind of how we get a paycheck.”

“Mm. How altruistic of you.”

“I’m just passing the time,” he continues to stack. He’s very near the top of the pyramid. “People do all sorts of things to pass time.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, you know. They spend hours, days, weeks, years…building something. And you know, you would think that would ensure some type of stability or longevity or…anything, right?”

“I guess.”

“But sometimes it doesn’t. Sometimes no matter how much time passes or…how much effort you put in,” he places the final two cards on top. “It’s just not meant to last.”

And with a tiny flick of his finger, the whole pyramid comes tumbling down. You can’t help but watch the picturesque scene, the way they float down onto the table in a big mess.

Spencer doesn’t think there’s a chance in hell that you don’t know what he’s talking about. You’re smart. You get it.

You don’t acknowledge it, though.

That night, you can’t sleep. For some reason, you’ve got this idea in your head that if you force your eyes open for a few hours longer, you can make yourself useful on a case that, so far, has no end in sight. The hotel accommodating the team is a nice one. There’s a library on the first floor that they leave open 24/7, perfect for a profiler on the hunt. You flip through the files in the near pitch black, curled up in a chair beside the tiniest lamp in the world. Despite your eye for detail, you don’t even notice when Spencer walks in. Not until he clears his throat.

You look up at him, startled, until you see his face, “Oh,” not the reaction he was hoping for. “Should’ve known you’d find me here.”

“I like to think I’d find you anywhere,” he shrugs. He sits down in the chair beside you and looks over your shoulder. You can smell him from just a foot away but it doesn't affect you. It can’t affect you. “Any luck?”

“No. Care to help?”

“Not at all.”

“Oh, great.”

“[y/n], it’s late. Nothing you can do without brain power.”

“I just hate…” you start, the exclamation coming out before you can hold yourself back. Spencer watches you intently, hanging onto your voice. “T-the detergent they use on the linens. Gives me a headache.”

He sighs, “Yeah. Me too. I swiped some extra pillow mints. Want one?”

“Mhm,” you hold your hand out and unwrap the candy instantly. It helps your anxiety.

Enough so that you open up just a bit more, you tell Spencer about the headache that’s been bashing against your skull all day. “But maybe I’ve just had too much coffee.”

“Or not enough.”

You laugh, “Yeah, no, that must be it.”

Your phone pings in your lap and you check the message very quickly, the small smile that once sat on your lips dissipating in thin air. Just when he wrangled a laugh out of you, Spencer thinks. Of course. He watches your entire mood change in the blink of an eye and he fucking hates it.

“You okay?”

“Yeah,” you sigh. “Yeah…tired. Should probably head to bed.”

“But the detergent?”

You chuckle, “I’ll survive.”

On the elevator ride up to your floor, you rest your back against the wall, Spencer perched right beside you. You keep your eyes closed, your hands gripping the bar for balance. The motion doesn’t help your headache. You gulp, clear your throat, and when you open your eyes, Spencer is staring at you. Shamelessly. You furrow your eyebrows at him, tracking his eyes as they focus in on your mouth.

“Are you looking at my lips?”

He nods, “Mhm.”

“Can you read them?”

“Mhm.”

“I have a boyfriend.”

“Oh,” that snaps him out of his trance and he stands up straight, shaking his head. The elevator dings and he walks off, exasperated, exhausted, exclaiming, “[y/n], who cares?”

Your jaw drops in shock and by the time you step out to follow him, he’s already marched into his room. You scoff as you burst into your own suite. You crash in bed and you lay there tossing and turning for what feels like hours. In reality, it’s only thirty minutes but it’s long enough. Long enough for this unbridle, illogical rage to build within you. Long enough for your mind to fill with thoughts like: who the fuck does he think he is? What the fuck does he know? Oh, I’ll tell him what he doesn’t know. And you hop out of bed. You storm down the hall in your slippers, knocking on Spencer’s door like, ironically, the feds.

Lucky for you, he was nowhere near asleep yet. He swings the door open and he opens his mouth to speak but you beat him to it.

“Listen, Einstein.”

“I’m listening.”

“Just…just because you don't get it doesn’t mean you have the right to shit on my relationship.”

“Who was shitting on your relationship?”

“Stop it.”

“Fine, I was shitting on your relationship.”

“And that’s not fair.”

“But you’re…” and he enunciates this next word very clearly. “Not happy.”

“Don’t tell me what I am. You don’t know anything. You don’t know me or my life. You don’t get to cast judgement.”

“Oh, okay. Okay. Well, then, I’m so happy for you, [y/n]. I am.”

You’ve said all you need to say and you have no interest in hearing any more. You turn around and march away but he persists, “Hey, I really am. I’ll be the first one to buy something off your wedding registry!”

There are no more card games on the jet for a while.

And that sucks, but you’re trying to prove a point here. Spencer knows nothing. Maybe no one’s ever told him that before and maybe that’s why it stings. Maybe that’s why he can hardly look you in the eye, but you’re trying to prove a point here.

You’ve drawn a boundary that should’ve been drawn long ago. Not even because you wanted to but out of spite. Spite can carry you a long way. It has before. The nature of your work makes it easy to clock in and think of nothing else. Focus on nothing other than getting the job done. It’s the moments in between that are hard.

Like tonight, as you’re typing up case notes at your desk. It’s too quiet. It leaves too much room for opportunity. Taking full advantage, Spencer sets a small gift bag in front of you. You tilt your head as you look up at him, your face etched with inhibition.

“I…” he stutters. “I got it a while ago. Thought it’d be a nice birthday present and I won’t see you tomorrow, so…”

You give him a small smile. The ice doesn’t just thaw, it melts. “You didn’t have to.”

“I wanted to. Happy birthday.”

“Thank you,” you dive into the bag, pulling out the hardcover book and holding it flat between your palms. You release a small gust of air from your nose. You touch the textured font of the lettering along the cover. “Oh, Spencer.”

He has to act like the tone in your voice doesn’t have the biggest effect on him. Hearing his name in such a gentle whisper. He just shrugs, “I recognized the limited edition cover while I was in this library near the art museum. It’s a nice library, you’d like it.”

“I love it,” you breathe before you can censor it. “The book. I love the book. It’s wonderful. Thank you.”

“I’m glad.”

There’s so much more to be said. The weight of it all vibrates behind your teeth and you grind them together as you gaze at Spencer. He can see your mouth aching to open but he knows it won’t.

“Well…happy birthday.”

“Thank you.”

“I hope it’s a great one.”

“Thank you.”

And you watch him disappear. You feel your heart sink to the barrel of your stomach, like all the words you’re destined to scream out to him are making you sick.

This nausea lasts well into your birthday. No matter the sheer amount of fuss. No matter the amount of texts or calls or gifts that arrive at your door. You’re sick. Even when you put on your fanciest dress for dinner, you curl up in your office with your new book, finally and for no reason, gathering the courage to open its pages and read the quote recounted on the first page.

“And here you come

with a shield for a heart

and a sword for a tongue”

Happy Birthday, [y/n]

Spencer

You slam the book shut and trap it in the drawer of your desk. You’re sick.

You still eat at your birthday dinner. The love and affection reserved for a day like today helps settle your stomach. You think: I am [y/n]. It’s my birthday. These are my gifts. They are from people who love me. This is my boyfriend. This is my birthday cake. It works, it’s working.

Then he pulls out that fucking ring.

The angle at which he kneels in front of you catches the light just right and the diamond blinds you in the eye. Your mind, along with the entire room, falls silent. For the first time in what feels like a lifetime - silence. When his voice cuts through the thick air, you can see his lips moving, you can hear the vibrations going wah wah wah wah wah. But nothing is as loud as the sound of your own breathing, heavy and rapid. Your hands are over your heart but just to keep it from forcing its way out of your chest. You’re sick.

You’re sick.

Spencer had just gotten in bed. He made it the entire day without allowing himself to call you and now he figures he can force himself to sleep. That is until there’s a booming knock at his door. Now he’s wired. He springs into action like it’s not a potential threat and he throws his body against the door to glance out the peephole.

When he opens it, you are still out of breath. Your chest is heaving and you wheeze with every exhale. His eyes travel down your body, the pretty dress and your beaten and bare feet, the heels dangling from your fingers. The look in your eyes is a mystery to him. It’s laced with exasperation and desperation and he furrows his brows trying to figure it all out. Nonetheless, when he sees you moving towards him, he wraps his arms tight around your waist, opens his mouth and gasps as you kiss him.

He’s quick to close the door behind you, stumbling when you drop your shoes to the ground, but only for a moment. No time for stumbling here. He moans at the sudden grip you take of his hair and his body pushes into yours even more, directing you to his bedroom with just the pressure of his chest.

Never expecting this to happen, let alone tonight, Spencer is quick to swipe away all the books that have piled up on his bed. He promptly takes their place and grabs your waist to pull you back into the kiss. You have to hike your dress up your thighs to properly straddle him but once you, he swears he can feel the warmth all the way to his toes.

Your eyes roll back as he licks all over your neck, attacking your chest with sloppy kisses and sudden bites. You feel his erection raise between your legs and the pressure of it has you moaning directly in his ear. The vibration scratches just the right spot in his brain and he bunches your dress up in his hands, the veins along his arm straining through his skin.

You huff, pull back to look at his face, his eyes hooded and hungry. “What…” you pant. “What am I doing?”

Caught off guard, Spencer can’t do much but blink. And shrug. “What…are you doing?”

You stumble over your words, if that’s what you could even call them. It’s more a collection of whines and one short whimper before you simply carry on. Grab his face, catch his mouth and let it go. Perfect for Spencer, because he didn’t really need an answer.

He follows your lead as you undo the tie on his sweatpants. He pushes and you pull until his throbbing cock is free. You don’t mean to gasp, but you do. It just all feels so unreal, like a dream, like a fantasy. Except it’s not, it’s tangible. You can feel it. You can touch him - and you do. You wrap your hand around him and shudder as he grips onto your forearms. His teeth are clenched tight so it makes it harder for him to kiss you, harder for him to breathe but he keeps you locked in place. If he could talk, he’d beg please don't stop, please. Please, please, please.

And it’s like you can read his mind. Through the ferocity with which he pushes his face into yours, the way his hips buck underneath you, you get it. You’ll give it to him. You pull your panties to the side and just the tip pressing against you sends a visual jolt through your body.

“Yeah?” You whisper. More like - right? This is right? Right?

Almost immediately, Spencer grunts, “Yes. Yes. Yeah,” he could say it in a million other languages if it would get the point across but english is good enough. You lower yourself down on him and thoughtless, he yelps, “Yes!” as he falls back on the bed.

Even though he’s transcended his own body, Spencer keeps his eyes locked on you. His gaze follows your jaw as it drops wide open and both of your moans fall in sync as you start to roll your hips. Spencer’s hand clamps down on your thigh, the other reaching up to touch your face. The tender contact makes your vision blurry but you can still see the way he’s looking at you.

He touches your hair and your jaw and takes a soft sweep over your cheekbone. His thumb runs over your bottom lip. He can feel your breath coming out hot and quiet each time you land on him, the rhythm of your body taking the air out of both of you.

Is this really happening? he thinks. This can’t be happening. But you increase your speed, lower your inhibition, send a shock of pleasure through him so good that he has no choice but to believe it’s real. You catch his thumb between your lips and he grunts, whines out for you, “[y/n]…”

“Mm, yes?” you lay your body flat against his, your hands intertwining with his amongst the bedsheets and he clenches his fist tight, tight, tight, tight. It’s all so much. Stimulation coming from everywhere at once. From your chest rubbing against his, from your pussy tightening around him like you’re nearly swallowing him whole. From the messy kiss your lips tangle in and the ever increasing volume from you both.

Spencer bends his knees behind you, supporting your body when your movements become rushed and uncontrollable. With your hand pressed to his chest and your head thrown back, he’s emboldened enough to grope your breasts, losely place his hands around your throat.

“Oh…” you whimper. “G-god…” and Spencer hangs onto the broken sound of your voice, enamored by the way your eyes cross over one another. He feels like he’s not doing much, like his body is still in shock and most focused on keeping himself grounded. As you crash down on him, he bends underneath the pressure, overwhelmed as each bounce grows more deliberate than the last. Each collision accompanied by a throaty, “Mm…mm…hmm.” Until your thighs come to a grinding halt and latch onto him, the orgasm radiating from your belly to your chest and directly to your head. He responds to your boisterous moan with a breathless gasp, catching you in his arms when you land on his chest.

He peppers your shoulder with tiny kisses, licking his way to your neck, biting your throat because he absolutely has to. Your hips continue in this mindless rhythm, draining every last twitch from your body as he whispers, “[y/n]…”

“Hm?”

“[y/n]…I, mm,” you catch his voice in your mouth, pushing your tongue between his lips. You attack his neck. You push his shirt up his torso just to move down his body and kiss his stomach.

“[y/n]…ah!” and though you love the sound of your name on his lips, you love to hear him scream even more and after you suck his cock into your mouth, he can’t stop screaming. Mouth open, body trembling, ear ringing moans. He reaches down to keep your hair out of your face and his hips jolt a bit rougher than he means to. He wants to look at you but his body is too taut. He wants to hold you in the palm of his hand, to call out your name one last time to make sure this is real. But he shoots into your mouth, his legs flailing around your frame, and all he can do, still, is scream.

You hum. You swallow. You slide off of him with a sharp pop. You crawl off of his body and drop as soon as your head hits the pillow. Spencer’s hand keep track of you, grazing your thigh, sad to feel you leave, begging to keep you close. Even as he struggles to breath, he balls up the edge of your dress in his fist. You lean back against the headboard, looking up at his ceiling fan, your body finally exerting all its energy and unable to move any further. The room has settled into nothing but the sound of heavy breathing and catharsis.

Spencer looks up at you and when you make eye contact with him, there are so many more complicated thoughts you could have. But the only thing that swims in your mind is the slow bead of sweat dripping down his forehead. You rest your knuckles on his cheekbone and he promptly grabs your wrist, peppers soft kisses all over your hand.

You owe him something. He has every right to ask. As he opens his mouth, you’re prepared to tell the truth. You will give him nothing but the truth.

“Did you see they’re adapting another Stephen King novel into a movie?”

You exhale a small laugh. Partially because you weren’t expecting it and partially because you had been dying to talk to him about it. “Yes. And I think it’s stupid.”

“Me too! I mean, the premise is promising, I think it can be done, but it’s the…”

“Supernatural element.”

“Yeah!”

“It’s hard to pull off. Major chances of it turning out cheesy and robotic.”

“Yes! Thank you! I’m still going to see it.”

“Oh, me too,” you laugh and his laughter blends in just perfectly.

It can wait. There’s a lot to catch up on. A lot of questions to ask and answer but for now, it’s easy. This, Spencer thinks. This is it. This is actually the easiest conversation he’s ever had in his life. And he’s not gonna fuck it up now.

Author’s note:

Ahh 😝 thanks for reading!!! Like, reblog, comment, all the things!! Just wanted an excuse to post this meme. Stay safe out here 😚

[theblacklewinsky]

Note: back with our favorite boo, Terry. It's my birthday, but I guess I can gift y'all with something lol! ❤️

Helpful Neighbors. | Aaron Pierre.

Toxic!Neighbor Terry Richmond x Black!Female Reader.

Warnings: MNDI!! this story is 18+ with depictions but not limited to; sexual content ( penetrat!on. toy play, water sports), extreme language (cursing, use of b-word and others.) slight daddy kink if you squint.

Summary: You confront your noisy neighbor about his loud late night company, he allows you to retaliate.

you fucking nasty,

first you cum and then you wipe it on my ass cheeks.

There wasn't much that you knew about your neighbor Terry. You knew he was generally friendly, you bringing him a small housewarming gift of a bath and bodywork's candle when he'd first moved in months prior. You knew he was a vet based on the marines sticker on the bumper of his pick up. You knew he was active, you often seen him heading out for camping trips, often seeing him in the apartments shared gym area when you'd take time out of your busy schedule to get a short work out in. You knew he was gorgeous, anybody could attest to that.

And he was loud. Very fucking loud.

And if you didn't know anything else, you knew that for sure.

The noise varied. Most nights he was particularly quiet, you wouldn't even have noticed anybody lived there if you hadn't seen him before. But some nights, he was a little loud. Metal music from an 80's band bled through the apartment walls, straight into your bedroom, you actually didn't mind it—being an exhausted charge nurse, the metal music did something for you, calming you in a strange way. Him seemingly fixing something, sometimes in the latest hours, drilling, hammering.

But it wasn't any of that. There wasn't any metal music. But he was sure drilling or hammering somebody. And she was extensively louder than anything you'd heard from Terry's apartment. You had to quickly grab your remote, muting your comfort show on your television to make sure she wasn't screaming blood murder.

It wasn't bloody murder, but she was screaming alright. You sighed, it was your first off day in two weeks of working straight in the trauma unit of the local hospital. It'd been a viscous stomach bug going around, and with the big panic from the prior pandemic, the hospital wasn't risking another one slipping up—so work was rough, and long.

But maybe you were bitter? It'd been way too long since you'd properly got your rocks off—not anything involving your beloved rose. So maybe you were just a bit bitter that at least somebody was getting theirs. Good for him! Just not on tonight. Not this night. You'd planned to crawl in bed, eat the most unhealthiest snacks in your cabinet and watch your comfort show, and maybe weep the prior two weeks out onto your pillow, you deserved a good cry after all, girl.

You sighed heavily, placing the pillow over your head letting out a groan. You'd definitely have to catch him in the morning and talk about this, cause this was outrageous.

Maybe sleep was out of the equation, but you'd definitely moved on to weeping.

The morning sprung and you jumped into action. Due to working 7AM to 7PM, you left out for work around the same time as a Terry did his morning runs. 6AM.

You woke up at 5:30 on a mission, brushing your teeth and doing your skincare and putting on your biggest t-shirt, sweatpants to match, oh you meant business.

You caught him as soon as he'd left his door, jogging the opposite way of your apartment toward the elevators before you called out to him. He turned confused at first until he noticed you, giving a lazy morning smile as he did. Black compression shirt, with the pair of black basketball shorts to match. He had no business being so damn fine. But you weren't deterred by that, last night was fucking atrocious.

"Goodmornin', beautiful," he smoothly recited like he did every morning. He was just nice like that. He said it every morning without fail, he always found something to compliment you on. New color of scrubs, how you decided to get your hair, even sweeter when he sees you out of your deliciously fitting scrubs.

"Good morning Terry," you smiled weakly, "I don't mean to disturb your routine, but can we talk for a minute?" You uneasily shifted your weight. You weren't good with confrontation, it just wasn't in your nature, but you didn't play about your sleep.

He nodded and you walked inside still holding the door open for him to signal him to follow you. He did, his smile faltering a bit once he came inside, you could tell he was confused a little thrown off.

You closed the door behind y'all, moving into your large kitchen area to pour yourself a mug of coffee. "Want some?" You politely asked him to which he politely rejected holding up his thermal water bottle.

You added your usual fixings to your coffee, taking a cautious sip, cradling your mug in your hand before you continued. "I don't mean to be confrontational when I say this," you walked around him heading into the living area, plopping on your newly purchased gray plush sectional, " but you were very ...loud last night." You chose your words, nicely.

He featured you a puzzling look, his finger gesturing to the comfortable chair adjacent to you, "of course." You quickly obliged before he took a seat, uneasily continuing. "Your lady...company, I meant." Sex talk wasn't your thing. Sex was sacred to talk about for you—and you didn't want to make him feel uncomfortable at all.

"Oh shit," he softly cursed, his expression filled with slight concern, "I'm sorry, I didn't realize we were bein' so loud, I hope we ain't keep you up."

"Oh, it's not a big deal," you quickly intercepted not wanting him to feel any type of way, "it's just my first day off in a couple of weeks so I just wanted to wind down with some quiet time and you guys were very...vocal," you chuckled to diffuse the awkwardness of the conversation, to which he added a light chuckle of his own, "at least somebodies getting their rocks off around here." You said jokingly before taking a sip of coffee. You hoped that didn't sound suggestive.

A short moment of silence followed your statement before you recognized Terry's eyes locked on something behind you for responding, "I see I ain't the only one gettin' mine," you furrowed your brows slowly turning your attention to where he was previously locked on. Your rose, sitting cleaned and comfortably on your end table.

You really had to learn to start putting shit back. 

Or maybe not.

Somehow you found yourself on your back, pinned to the couch, Terry folding you up in missionary, knees to your chest, rose to your clit as he gave you long, deep, torturing strokes. You couldn't even remember the quick and somehow satisfying foreplay you'd taken to get here—and you didn't even care anymore. You could feel the fat tip of his dick kissing your cervix, and as if you weren't loud enough, you got louder. How ironic? You could barely hear yourself think, or were you thinking at all?

"Mhm," he hummed, his face composed, nothing but his teeth lightly sunken into his bottom teeth as he drilled you in, finger tips of his thumb and pointer finger giving your right nipple light squeezes and tugs, he kept his eyes on you, even when they rolled back, quickly turning up the vibrator, "look at you, mama. Why you bein' so vocal? Why you bein' so fuckin' loud, baby?" He taunted.

"My god, Terry," you whined, breathless, he kept up, dick hitting that spot that made your toes curl. How was he so good at this shit? You understood her completely. It wasn't atrocious at all. Very understandable. Very justified.

"Yeah, baby?" He quirked his brow up, his own soft groans almost mocking yours. "You want her to hear you? She still next door, wake her ass up mama. She kept you up all night didn't she?" He asked tearing his fingers away from your nipples to slap firmly against your cheek prompting an answer from you.

"Yessss," you slurred out, throat raw from moaning and groaning. You'd say yes to anything he asked you in this moment. You'd adopt six German kids and live on a farm with him if he requested you to do so in this moment, the world was his oyster. He was digging you out so good, so deliciously good. He was getting more than your rocks off and you knew that when the pressure in the pit of your tummy came weighing down on your bladder. "Ooouuu fuck! Fuck I'm gonna—"

"Yeah," he chuckled, evil all evident in his tone, all in his smile as he glanced down to the mess unfolding between y'all, "wet this dick up baby, I feel that shit." He groaned, eyes zoning in on the creamy ring you were leaving around him. "Wet me up, and you better wake her ass up when you do."

"Cumming!" You abruptly announced nearly cutting him off from his lewd rant, the sounds of your own arousal clashing with his dick sent you tumbling over the edge, clear juices spurting out of you with so much force it ejected him out as well. It only prompted a more lazy laugh out of him, shaking the suction of the rose on your clit even faster. Trembling underneath him, your breath hitched in your throat as he sent you into complete overdrive, your voice was hoarse once a moan came tumbling out of you loud and broken. Why did you cum so hard from knowing that she was next door, possibly hearing you get your nut off with him?

"I like that shit, mama," he mumbled to you, turning the rose off slapping his free hand down on your clit, watching your body jerk in response. He said nothing dipping his body down momentarily to give your soft, sensitive nub three sloppy, mind numbing sucks. He was so loud and lewd with it, smacks loud, tongue slurping loudly. You were too turned on, too sensitive, but too fucked out to even object given how sensitive you were. He stood up on his knee once again, other floor planted flat on the ground. "Sticking up so pretty f'me and shit," he hummed, "put that ass in the air, I'm finna give her some more."

You whined, you were too tired to move. If this was sex? What the fuck were you having before? And he seemed to insatiable, how was he asking you for more when you already so tattered from your last orgasm?

"Can't," you weakly managed to get out.

He took the initiative to help you, his hands firmly grasping your hips and flipping you over roughly, bringing your hips up into the air, spreading out so nicely for him. He moaned in response, looking at how both your holes seemed to open for him. He slapped his massive hand against your ass cheek, the loud sound seemingly filling your quiet apartment, a high wince following behind it, his dick twitching at the recoil. "You gon be a good girl for daddy and hold this shit on your clit while I take care of you back here?" He asked you the dominating reference only furthering the throbbing in your pussy, one hand softly kneading the sting out from his slap. You could hear the quiet buzzing from behind you, head nodding eagerly as your hand reached from under you, making grabby motions for the toy.

Once it was in your possession, you placed it where he asked you, body lightly trembling since your clit hadn't had a moment long enough without stimulation. Both his large hands had been planted on your ass cheeks, spreading you apart for him. He groaned in response, spitting down onto your second hole winking for him so sweetly, you moaned in response to his lewd action. "Fuck yeah," he muttered sending another lighter slap to your ass. No further words were spoken as he grabbed his girthy member in his hands, fat tip rubbing softly against your slit before he stretched you open once again around him.

A loud whine erupted from you as soon as you felt him sliding into you, stretching you, the light sting providing the perfect pain to compliment the pleasure of him literally stuffing you. It was mind numbing for him, feeling you stretch and clench around him so perfectly, gummy, wet walls feeling so warm and snug around him. "Pussy so fuckin' good," he muttered not sure to who, you or him.

His strokes had already started off staggering; hard and deep. Pelvis slamming into your ass with loud, rippling sounds through your apartment, the force literally nudging your couch across the floor. You couldn't care about the scratches you knew were now engrained in your hardwood flooring, everything was so good. Too good.

"Fuckkkk!" You slurred out, eyes fluttering closed, face pressed against the plush cushions beneath you. Brainless wasn't the word for you. You were hyper focused on the pleasure you were receiving, the vibrations from the toy, Terry's back breaking strokes, and the sounds of your arousal around him didn't help the diagnosis. Your free hand held onto the top of the couch for a sense of stability. "Why—why you fuckin' me like this?!" You stammered out through a moan, voice hoarse and broken.

"What you mean, mama?" He asked through a groan, sending another rough slap to your ass. "You such a good girl, you deserve this dick. Workin' all hard and shit, always lookin' so fuckin' good." He grunted, working himself inside of you. Thumb tracing your asshole teasingly. "You deserve some good dick, baby."

The praise only heightened your moans, encouraging you to slam your ass back on him until you felt your own orgasm once again lurking around the corner.

"Show the fuck out, then, baby," he said breathlessly, stilling his own movements as he watched as you fucked yourself on his dick, ass slamming back onto his pelvis with dizzying recoil.

"Shiiiit! I'm finna cummmm!" You moaned out, your movements only increasing in pace, using him for your own pleasure now. And he ate that shit up.

"That's right, get that nut mama. Get yo' shit, fuck me," he affirmed through a series of groans accentuating your own, "fuck, I feel all that shit. Nasty ass bitch, get that nut." His dirty words filling your ears as you released around him, halting your movements. Squirting for the second time, the orgasm hit you like a ton of bricks literally. This one cramped your muscles as it temporarily paralyzed you, huge steaks of pleasure coursing through you. Terry didn't give you a moment to recover, his own climax brewing in the background. He resumed his strokes as if he never stopped, powerful, fast and hard. The rose clobbered to the floor with a hard thud, still buzzing away as your body flattened into the couch, Terry using his upper body strength to drop dick in you.

"You runnin?" He asked breathlessly through a series of overstimulating strokes to your pussy. "Why you runnin? Daddy, let you get yours right? Let daddy get his." He hummed to you.

You couldn't tell him you were overstimulated. Could you talk at all? Were you even breathing? What the fuck even was this?

"Dick got you goin' stupid, look at you," he groaned, dick hitting that spot again, and again. You came again, with announcement. You hadn't even known you were that close again. "Fuck, you keep cummin' on my dick."

Your voice came back to you in little squeals, nodding in agreement to his last statement.

"Pussy so good—I'm finna nut baby," his voice rushed and panicked as he kept up his strokes, "fuck I'm finna nut—shit!" He hurriedly pulled out of you, groans and grunts spilling from him earnestly as warm, ropes of cum painted your ass.

That was so unreal.

You focused on steadying yourself as you heard Terrys whispered curses behind you. It wasn't long before you heard his lazy chuckle, soft lips kissing down your spine causing a small chill to sneak through you. "You good?"

"Yes? I dunno," you answered bleakly, voice rasped out. Terry laughed gently, hands rubbing some warmth into your thighs and midsection.

"You enjoyed yourself?" He asked softly, kissing up to your neck, and shoulder tenderly. You nodded eagerly to his question, earning another chuckle for him. He sounded so good. "I'm glad, where towels at pretty girl. Lemme clean you up."

"Bathroom closet," you jammed your finger in the direction of the closet. You were halfway into a slumber when Terry came back with a warm towel, cleaning you up gently.

You knew for a fact it was gonna be a lot of noise coming from the both of your apartments.

-

still don't have a tag list together but I hope y'all enjoyed another toxic Terry fic 🫡 my favorite Terry after all! Happy Friday! 💗

[ageingfangirl2]

Imagine Being Bonten's Receptionist (Bonten x F Reader) - Tokyo Revengers

FIRST DAY/INTRODUCTIONS

Bonten is Tokyo's most notorious crime syndicate but has an office like any respectable business. even if it was a front. Each member had an office, there were a couple of meeting rooms, and they even had other staff who like you were sworn to secrecy or face deadly consequences. The pay was better than any other place you'd interviewed at, and the hours were reasonable, but you were expected to be flexible if needed to come in early or stay later.

The reception area had a few sofas and tables, and your counter was the first thing you saw when you got off the lift. You couldn't actually enter the offices behind you unless you had a key card or you buzzed them in. It would be quite lonely out here on your own or so you thought.

Hajime Kokonoi had hired you, he said it was because you looked trustworthy, and of course, you made a joke that he'd probably had your background checked. He told you to your face he had and you were the most worthy applicant. When you pushed for more he sealed his lips. On your first day, he put a very nice vase of flowers on the reception counter stating it gave the place more life, but it was a bouquet of your favourite flowers. So you thanked him and he said it was nothing, even though a couple of flowers had to be imported. You heard he was stingy with money.

You were typing away when Takeomi Akashi walked out of the offices with an unlit cigarette between his lips not noticing your presence, because he was busy cussing the lighter that wasn't working. 'Excuse me, let me help you,' you call out, grab the lighter from your bag and walk over to him. 'Who are you?' he asks confused, and you explain as you light the cigarette. 'Thank you, you smoke?' he enquires and you shake your head, and explain your friends do and on nights out you'd rather them come to you than a stranger. 'Smart girl, never smoke.' Takeomi now knew who to come to when his lighter wouldn't work.

Kakucho walks out of the lift on his phone, 'good morning,' you say politely. The poor man jumps out of his skin and nearly drops his phone on the marble floor. You apologise profusely for scaring him and his face gets a little redder the more you talk to him. It's not lost on you that he's not so subtly checking you out, in fact, you find it kind of cute when he should be intimidating. 'Nice to meet you, err I have to go,' he stutters and makes a quick escape into the offices. At the end of the day, he introduces himself properly, telling you if you need anything you can call him. It had been a while since a guy had given you his number.

Word spread by lunchtime about the new hire and that's when you met the Haitani brothers Ran and Rindou. Hajime had warned you to be on your guard, you were innocent and the brothers would try to taint you. 'hello beautiful, I have a reason to come into the office more now,' Ran croons, leaning over the counter staring at you with lustful eyes. You sit up straight, 'it's nice to meet you, but nothing's going to happen.' Ran looks hurt while his brother laughs, 'Maybe you're not as much of a charmer as you think brother. Call me Rindou.' and you're shocked when he takes your hand and kisses it. You would almost believe he was a gentleman if he didn't have the same lustful eyes as his brother. You smile and remove your hand from his, 'I don't know what game you two are playing but it won't be easy. I've been warned.' the brothers exchange a look and huff, 'Koko,' they say in unison. You nod and go back to your computer. Little did you know that your rejection ignited a challenge between the brothers to see who could win you over first.

After the Haitani brothers, you thought you'd be left alone but there were a couple of cocky male employees who thought they could flash expensive suits and watches while being drenched in overpowering cologne. Unlike the brothers these two immediately violated your personal space making you feel uncomfortable, 'can you leave me alone please?' you ask, 'get away from me,' you insist. One of the men goes to grab your arm 'Know your place bitch--' when he's grabbed himself and thrown backwards. Kanji Mochizuki stands guard in front of you, 'the lady said no, just wait until the boss here's about this.' Then men scurry off scared by the threat. He turns to face you with a warm smile, 'Sorry about that, they won't cause you any more problems. Give me a shout if anyone else makes you feel uncomfortable.' you weren't quite sure what to make of him, but you just got your second number of the day.

Hajime or Koko as he told you to call him asked you to stay late to accept a parcel for another member. This is where you met Bonten's no.2 Haruchiyo Sanzu and the leader Manjiro Sano. You were taken aback seeing Sanzu covered in blood while Mikey didn't seem to have a single scratch on him, both looked equally intimidating and you didn't want to get on either of their bad sides. You gulp and look down at the parcel you'd not long signed for seeing it was addressed to Sanzu, 'good evening I have a parcel for Haruchiyo Sanzu.' both men stare at you, Sanzu looks manic while Mikey looks bored. 'Thank you, lovely lady, pink looks good on you,' Sanzu chuckles and takes the parcel before skipping into the office. You brush imaginary creases off your light pink blouse, 'well I guess I'll be going then, have a good night sir,' you pick up your bag, turn off the monitor and stand up noticing Mikey hadn't moved his eyes from you, 'are you okay sir?' you ask. He blinks a couple of times, 'Yes, get home safe,' you nod and press the lift button, feeling a little uneasy having Mikey continue to stare at you.

When you returned to your apartment you threw yourself on the bed thinking about your interesting first day of work, and all the Bonten members you'd interacted with. This was going to be an interesting job.

[cherrygirlfriend]

rafe and kook!reader that hate each other

warnings: smut, MDNI! i got this idea when i hadn't slept for like 48 hours but then when i finally got some sleep a few days ago i decided to write it !!! i just felt like i write a lot of "meek" readers so i didn't wanna do the same thing over and over lmao i hope you enjoy

you didn't know why you always had to come whenever your parents always had to drag you and your brother along when they visited the camerons. it's not like when you were a kid who needed to be babysat to make sure you didn't do anything wrong, but your mother wouldn't stop hassling you about it, saying how it would be 'so rude' of you to not show up, and it'd seem like you hated them. only problem was, you did.

well, pretty much just rafe. you had gotten along with sarah pretty well, but apparently she wouldn't be present. despite being the same age and both being from figure 8, you and rafe were like polar opposites. you were more into academics, and he was more into playing sports and getting fucked up with his friends. so, you never got along. but your families had been friends even before your birth, due to your respective fathers being in business together. so you had to pretend to be civil.

year by year, it went from hitting and kicking each other because someone took the other's toy, to when you started at the same middle school when he'd steal your books from your locker, to whenever you'd start dating someone in high school, they'd mysteriously end up breaking up with you the next week, and every time you asked why, you only heard one name.

rafe.

and said boy was standing in front of you now, next to his family, his arms crossed in front of his chest, with that same smug grin on his face you had last seen when you'd left for college. and you knew, that even though you were both older, he hadn't changed one bit, and it made you worry what kind of disaster tonight would bring, and if one of you just finally strangled the other to death.

after your parents had changed initial pleasantries, you all went into the dining room, and as if it had been some kind of cosmic joke, you had ended up sitting next to rafe. and so, while the people around you were chatting and eating, you sat there, occasionally taking sips out of the glass of wine and bites of your food, until you heard someone call your name.

"hmm?" you asked, looking up with a small smile.

"how's college been?" rose cameron asked, and it seemed like every eye was on you now. you swallowed the bite you were eating as you considered your answer and cleared your throat.

"it's been pretty good. difficult, and not a lot of sleep, but i seem to fit in. i really like the campus and my professors, and since i live in an apartment close to the campus i get there easily."

"your parents are always talking about how proud they are of you," ward cameron mentioned, "they're always saying how great it is that not only did you get into an ivy league school, but that you're also staying on top of your studies. must be nice to get a summer break, though."

as you were about to answer, you couldn't help but notice that the boy sitting next to you had stiffened, his jaw clenched tightly, and a part of you couldn't help but feel a tiny bit of self-satisfaction over the fact that your accomplishments seemed to be getting to him despite him always making fun of you for your commitment to your studies.

"well, the point of college is to study, even though i do try to let loose every now and then." you let out a small chuckle, taking a quick sip of wine before you continued, "and it's nice, yeah, but i also do miss school."

at that, you could heard a snort from next to you, and you turned to look at rafe with a feigned friendly smile, the look in your eyes basically egging him to tell you what his snort was caused by, "something you wanna say?"

at your words, it felt like the entire dining room went quiet, and for the first time the whole evening, rafe looked straight into your eyes, his piercing blue eyes cold as steel, even though the corners of his lips were uplifted just a tiny bit that if you hadn't sat next to him you wouldn't have even noticed it. he let out a small, demeaning chuckle.

"it's just... who would miss school?"

"i do. i just said i do, didn't i?"

"like... don't get me wrong, but don't you have any other life? just like in high school, is all you do just... study? that's really sad, you know. you should really do something fun. have you even tried to go out, or do you just coop up in the library because you think it's some kind of a replacement for people who give a fuck about you?"

"rafe-" ward was trying to stop his son from speaking, but before he could, you simply let out a small laugh.

"as opposed to what? staying on the same island i've lived on my whole life, doing nothing but living off my family's money, play golf and hang out with my friends until i eventually take over my dad's business and one day get married and have 2.5 kids who end up doing the same. sure, i could probably just start working for my dad, but the thing is i don't want to." with every word you say, the blood from his face is drained slowly, while you just smile at him, "i could be just like any other rich kid living off their parents, but i'm actually going to make something of myself instead."

after you finish speaking, the room is so quiet that if a pin dropped, it would sound like an anvil, the two of you staring at each other, while everyone's eyes darted from you to rafe, and back again like you were a tennis match, until you simply turned your head away from him, the boy still staring at you, while you cleared my throat. "rose, the food is really good." you said with a friendly smile before bringing the glass of wine to your lips.

eventually, the chatter started back up again, and the dinner went on, but still, every now and then, you could feel rafe glaring at you resentingly.

you were making your way through the halls of tannyhill, your phone in hand as you were texting, but when you finally found the bathroom, you pulled the door open, only to be faced with something you hadn't expected.

rafe was standing there, his head thrown back, and when you looked to the counter, you saw his credit card, a little pouch, and two white lines, in rafe's hand, a rolled up one-hundred dollar bill, and when you let out a quiet chuckle, he finally noticed your presence, and you could see the alarm bells ringing in his brain.

"damn, you've moved to coke? last i saw you, you were just into weed or occasionally molly, but this? shit, well, i shouldn't be surprised, i mean-"

before you could finish your sentence, rafe's hand was gripping your arm tightly, and the boy pulled you into the bathroom, locking the door behind him before slamming you against it, the door handle digging into your side, the blonde's pupils dilated to all hell, remnants of white powder under his nose.

"the fuck do you think you're doing?" you stared up at him while trying to push him away, but his muscular arm pressed against your chest, holding you against the door.

"you're a fucking bitch, you know that?"

"wow, that's really original cameron. what is this, fifth grade? you're pathetic."

"don't fucking talk to me like that," he said, his jaw clenched, his head leaning down to look at you. "you've always been such a fucking pain in my ass."

"i have been a pain in your ass? that's rich." you finally managed to push him off you, the boy stumbling slightly back due, "you've done nothing but made my life a living hell. when we were kids, when we were teens," you started walking closer to him, "even tonight, who was the first one to fucking snort at my comment and start talking about sad my life is, when in reality you're the one who's still acting like a teenager."

"it really seemed to hit a nerve. what's wrong, you still don't have friends, just like you didn't back in high school? let me tell you why that is; you act like you're so much better and smarter than everyone. sure, i might act like i'm better than some people, but you act like you're a fucking god. and that's why no one can stand you."

the two of you now stood in the middle of the bathroom, the bathroom filled with the noise of you both breathing erratically from all the insults you'd thrown, rafe glaring down at you, his gaze filled with ice, yours filled with fire, both of your words poisonous and knives meant to cut deep.

then rafe's lips were on yours, your arms around his neck, the kiss full of hunger, of craving, the both of you trying to consume one another. it was just like any another fight between you, but without any words, just with your lips.

rafe pushed you against the bathroom wall, his lips slowly trailing down your jaw and your neck while you ground your body against his, his erection pressing against your lower stomach, one of his hands on your neck, while the other was lifting the hem of your dress, your hands undoing his belt.

"i still fucking hate you..." you breathed out, tugging at his hair while rafe simply chuckled against the your neck, nipping at the sensitive skin, a gasp leaving your lips and you dug your nails into the back of his neck to get back at him, the boy letting out a groan before he continued sucking and kissing on your neck with his warm lips as you moved your hands down to undo his pants and letting them fall to the ground.

your head felt like it was in the clouds when his hands touched the waistband of your panties, slowly sliding under it, and when you felt his fingers travel deeper, you couldn't help but gasp, feeling rafe run two of his fingers over your folds, collecting some of your arousal onto his fingers, his lips detaching themselves from your neck. "you hate me but you're this fucking wet, huh?"

"you wanna play that game?" you chuckle, palming his erection through his boxers, rafe letting out a groan as you freed his erection from his boxers, spitting into your hand before you were stroking up and down on his cock, the red tip of his length already leaking precum, the boy letting out ragged breaths, unable to keep kissing you from the pleasure you were giving him.

his fingers were working your clit, your back arching against the wall, your head swimming as you continued stroking him, rafe brought his lips back to yours, your lips lazily and messily pressing against one another, both of you two too blissed out by the pleasure you were giving one another to even care.

when he pulled away from the kiss, he pressed his forehead against yours, your breaths mingling together as your hands worked in tandem, and it felt like it was the first thing you two didn't hate about each other, rafe's breath hitching with every stroke of his cock, a small whimper leaving your lips every time he touched your clit just right.

you closed your eyes, as you felt the heat building in your abdomen, you bit down on your lip, and you knew that rafe was just as close to coming from the way he picked his own pace up on your clit and how his breathing got more and more ragged.

and finally, when you felt the feeling in your abdomen just... stop, and your orgasm washed over you in a rapid wave, you heard rafe let out a glorious noise that was between a whine and a groan. you could feel cum rushing out of his cock as you kept stroking him, his fingers still working on your clit as the two of you let the other one ride out their orgasms.

your breathing was ragged and you were both blissed out when you finally took your hands off each other, still coming down from your orgasm, but when you finally did...

"fuck." you clamored, pushing rafe off you as you pulled your dress back down and made your way to the sink, washing your hands, while rafe was also getting dressed. you took a few moments to fix your makeup and hair, before turning to him, rafe looking at you in a way that didn't let you know what he was thinking, as usual. "this never happened."

and before he could even respond, you were out of the door.

[seungkw1]

you're so sweet, but... — hvc

♡ pairing: bf!vernon x afab!reader ♡ theme: smut ♡ wc: 3.1k ♡ warnings: brat!reader, brattamer!vernon, sub!reader, softdom!vernon, praise kink, degradation kink, slight exhibitionism, unprotected piv sex (do not do this), fingering (f. receiving), gagging (f. receiving), lots of spit going on, body worship, spanking, manhandling, hair pulling, head pushing, nipple play, doggy, riding, dacryphilia, oral (m. receiving/f. receiving implied), cum swallowing, slight possessiveness, pet names (princess, babygirl, good girl, slut), minor fluff at the end ♡ a/n: ummmm yeah so here’s the vernon fic i’ve talked about writing for a while i kinda went feral hope u like it !! :)

Your sweet, wonderful boyfriend always treats you so well - but you secretly wish he would be a little bit meaner sometimes. One day while he’s working from home, you decide to take matters into your own hands.

“How long is the call?”

“Shouldn't be more than an hour.”

You pout at your boyfriend, tugging at his arm, trying to drag him away from work. 

“That's too longgggg,” you whine. 

“Sorry babe, duty calls.”

You cross your arms, rolling your eyes at him. “Vernon, you can't just say duty calls about a Zoom meeting.”

Vernon turns around, taking your hands in his as he steps back toward you. He leans in and gives you a big kiss on the lips. 

“Love you.”

He spins you around and sends you off with a light tap on the butt. 

“It's a good thing you're cute,” you say, looking back at him with a grin. He gives you a playful smile before shutting the door, leaving it slightly ajar. 

You last about 15 minutes. Ever since you moved in with your boyfriend, you hadn't spent much time apart from him at all - so when you went on a trip with friends, you didn't realize how much you'd miss him. You were only gone a week, but it was enough to drive you nuts - and make you stupidly horny. 

You lay upon your bed, caressing yourself lightly through your clothes, imagining Vernon was here on top of you, stripping your clothes off so he can worship your crevice of your body. He always is so good to you, speaking soft, sweet praises as he fucks you: 

“You’re taking me so well, baby.”

“You look so pretty riding me like this.”

“That’s it, cum for me darling.”

It’s incredibly hot, and you're so grateful to have such a loving partner who prioritizes your pleasure above everything. 

However…

You’ve never admitted this to him, but sometimes you wish he would be a bit meaner. 

Vernon is well aware that you have a praise kink - it pairs perfectly with his love of complimenting you. But recently you’ve started dreaming of your sweet, wonderful boyfriend calling you a dirty little slut as he throws you around, pins you down to the bed, fills your pussy up with cum and then fucks it into you all over again. And it really turns you on. 

You’ve been hesitant to share this with him - only because you don't know if it’s something he'd be into. In the year or so you've been together, he has never spoken down to you in any way - the man simply doesn't have a mean bone in his body. You worry it would upset him if you expressed this desire to him and he couldn't deliver. 

You ponder this as you lay there, fantasizing about being dominated, degraded, fucked so hard you forget your own name. You don’t even have to touch yourself to know how wet this is making you.

A very debaucherous idea suddenly comes to you. 

You think about it for a minute. You know you probably shouldn't do it, but you're feeling so depraved right now that you don't even care. 

You hop to your feet, making your way back to Vernon’s office. The door is still unlatched. Praying the hinges aren't creaky, you slowly push it open about halfway, enough to bring your whole body into view. You see him sitting at the desk’s chair, looking a bit bored but focused, his posture pin-straight and perfect as always. His eyes flicker over to you as he notices you standing there. He looks at you with concern - you never interrupt him when he’s at work unless it's something urgent. He tilts his head slightly, silently asking you if something is wrong. 

You bite your lip to hide the smirk creeping upon your face. You slowly lift your shirt, sliding it above your bra to reveal your tits. His eyes widen. He’s still on camera, so he doesn't let himself react more than than, but you can tell he’s getting flustered already. 

You pull your shirt over your head, dropping it to the floor. Your hands make their way to your jeans, unfastening them, slowly dragging the zipper down. Vernon stares at you, shaking his head as subtly as possible. 

Don't do it, his face reads. 

Doing it anyway, you start pulling your jeans off, caressing your hips seductively as you slide the pants down your legs. As you kick the jeans off, you pull your underwear up tight against your cunt, showing off the existing wet spot - making it even wetter as the thin fabric sticks to your soaked folds. Your pussy is all but on full display. 

Vernon’s ears burn bright red. He tries to ignore you, turning back to his computer. 

“Sorry, can you repeat the question?” he asks somebody on the call, his voice straining to remain unwavering. You hear a muffled voice in his headphones, repeating what they just asked. Vernon gives an abrupt nod and answers the question. 

You wait until he finishes his response. Once he’s done speaking, you see his attention start to drift back over to you. You reach behind you, releasing the hook of your bra. Your breasts fall softly out of the garment as you slide it off; you toss the bra toward Vernon, not quite far enough for it to be spotted in the webcam, but daringly close. 

The flush begins to spread to his neck. He maintains a cool facade, but you can tell he is stewing inside. You smirk, pleased with yourself for managing to make him so distraught so easily. 

He answers another question, shifting in his seat slightly to accommodate the growing erection in his pants.  

You take a step into the room. He shoots you a panicked look. You take another step, reaching over to the desk. You lean over and- 

Pewwww. 

With a sad sounding noise, the entire computer shuts off. You release the power button. Vernon stares at the black screen for a moment, in shock. He turns back to you, shock washing over his face. 

“What the fuck are you doi-”

You disappear from the doorway in an instant. Vernon runs after you. 

“Hey!!”

He chases you into the bedroom. 

“What the hell was that for??”

“I dunno,” you reply, grinning at him coyly. “Just felt like it.”

“You can't just interrupt when I’m in a meeting like that! What if it was important??”

“Was it?”

“No, but-”

“See? You’ll be fine. Just say your internet went out.”

He purses his lips shut. “That’s not the point. You could have gotten me in huge trouble.”       

“Oh no,” you say cheekily, poking him in the chest. “I guess you'll just have to put me in my place then.”

Vernon looks at you, his expression shifting from anger to disbelief. He lets out a huff. 

“So that’s what you want,” he responds incredulously. “You’re acting like a brat on purpose.”

You step forward, grinning as you get in his face. 

“Now you get it.”

“Jesus y/n, that was too risky!” he scolds.  

You clasp your hand tightly on the bulge in his pants. He lets out a sharp groan. 

“Yeah, but you like it.”

He stares at you, trying to be upset, but his eyes start to glaze over as you squeeze his cock. 

“Now,” you continue, speaking softly. You lean in and let your lips linger in front of his. “Are you gonna fuck me or not?”

He stands there, mouth slightly agape, dumbstruck by your audacity. 

“I-”

Before he can continue, you start undoing the button on his jeans. You tug on the zipper, having to put a little extra effort in due to his hard cock straining to escape from the confines of the denim.  The zipper glides down over the bulging mass; he sighs at the relieving sensation. You pull the waistband of his boxers down just enough to free his tip - he's already leaking with precum. You collect it on your index finger and bring it up to your mouth, licking your finger clean. 

“God,” Vernon groans through gritted teeth, his cock twitching against his stomach. “You’re a fucking menace.”

He reaches for your core. He pulls your hopelessly drenched panties aside, dragging the pads of his fingers over your slit. 

“Look how fucking wet you are.”

You whimper as he slips his middle finger inside you. He slides it in and out a few times before adding his ring finger. You cry out as he curls his fingertips to hit your g-spot - he always knows how to touch you in your most sensitive spots to drive you fucking crazy. 

He starts fucking your pussy, the heel of his palm pressing deliciously against your clit with each motion of his hand. After several deep pumps he pulls his hand out - it’s already soaked. 

“Open,” he commands. 

You open your mouth and stick your tongue out. He shoves his fingers inside. You latch onto them, sucking your own juices off. He pushes further into your mouth, making you gag. Your eyes start to water. 

By the time he pulls out, his hand is coated with your spit. A big string of saliva sticks to his fingers; it breaks, the remainder dribbling down your chin. Vernon leans in, slipping his tongue into your mouth, dragging it around the inside of your teeth.  He reaches for your cunt again, gently circling your clit. His spit-covered fingertips glide easily over the bud, the stimulation making your pussy clench around nothing. 

“Oh my god,” you moan into his mouth. You start grinding your cunt against his fingers. “Just fuck me already.”

You whine as he pulls his hand away. Grabbing you by the hips, he pushes you over to the bed. He practically throws you onto the mattress. He pulls his jeans and boxers down in one go, yanking them off hurriedly. His shirt quickly joins the discarded clothes on the floor. Standing fully nude before you now, he slowly begins stroking his cock. With one finger he reaches beneath the crotch of your underwear, pulling the elastic back. The cool air of the room stings pleasantly against your wet cunt. He releases; you jump slightly as it snaps back against your pussy. 

“Get rid of these.”

You don't move. “Do it for me.”

He stares down at you, his eyes filled with lust.

“Fine,” he growls.

He reaches for you, running his hands up the sides of your thighs. You lift yourself up a bit so he can strip your panties off - but instead he grasps you by the hips, flipping you over onto your stomach.

He nearly rips your underwear off, not bothering to remove them, but sliding them down just enough to expose your cunt. He smacks you on the ass, hard. You let out a small cry at the stinging sensation.

“You like that?” he asks as he traces his fingernails over the tender area.

“Mhmm,” you mumble into the sheets.

He grabs you by the hair, yanking your head up.

“Speak up, princess.”

“Yes,” you whine. 

He spanks you again, even harder this time. Your skin begins to burn where his hand struck you.

“More,” you plead.

He leans over, gripping your hair in his fist still as he speaks softly into your ear.

“Oh I don’t think so,” he mutters. The hair on the back of your neck stands up. “You’ve been very bad today, I’m not just going to give you what you want so easily.”

He grabs his cock in his other hand, leading the tip to your heat. He strokes it over your entrance a few times, the combination of your juices and spit coating his cockhead. He pushes into you slightly to tease you, but you’re so wet that it slips right in. You cry out at the sensation; he lets out a long moan as he slowly pushes further, making you take his full length. He rests for a moment with your pussy wrapped around his whole cock, breathing deeply.

“God your pussy is so perfect,” he whispers into your ear. “And it’s all mine, isn’t it babygirl?”

“Y-yeah,” you whimper. “All yours.”

“Good,” he grumbles. “A good little slut all for me.”

He begins to fuck you, slowly at first, sliding in and out of you, making you feel every inch of him. Quickly though his pace increases, thrusting into you with powerful strokes, his hand unreleasing in your hair. Your legs start to quiver as his cock hits you in the perfect spot each time. You grasp onto the sheets, desperately clinging to them as your boyfriend fucks you like never before, your cries muffled into the mattress. Vernon pulls you up again, your moans filling the air as he wraps his other arm around your torso, squeezing your breasts as he holds you tight against him. He plays with your nipples, pinching them and rolling the bud around between his thumb and index finger. You already start to feel your orgasm approaching when he releases your tits, sliding his hand down your stomach and reaching for your clit.

“Fuck I’m so close,” you cry out between an unholy symphony of moans. Vernon groans as he fucks you even harder, his cock pounding into you as his fingertips flutter over your sensitive bud. Your screams escalate, so near to your climax - but before you can cum he pulls his cock out of you; he rests it against your ass, dragging your wetness all over your skin. He flips you around again to face him, throwing you onto the pillows. 

“Not yet,” he tells you as he climbs over you. He lays beside you, grabbing your arms and hoisting you on top of him. “Wanna see your pretty little face when you cum for me.”

You straddle him, sitting with your pussy resting upon his shaft. He laces his fingers through yours, holding your hands as he pulls you toward him. You begin to rock your hips back and forth, sliding your cunt up and down his length. Your clit pulsates as his hardness presses against it with each movement.

“Want you to cum like this,” he mutters, his eyelids halfway closed as your pussy strokes his cock. He grips onto your hands tightly, supporting you as you pleasure yourself upon him. You grind against him, your cunt throbbing, begging for release. A burning sensation builds in your gut; your mind starts to go blank - the only thing you can think about is Vernon, laying under you as he watches you unravel atop him, losing all composure on his cock.

“I’m gonna cum,” you wail. You relinquish all control, letting your orgasm take over. Your body trembles as every nerve in your body is set ablaze like fireworks. You scream out your boyfriend’s name as you release over him, cumming long and hard, your climax seemingly endless.

You start to come down, breathing heavily as you recover from your high. You collapse onto Vernon, laying your body on his chest as you bury your face in his neck. He lets go, sliding his hands around you, squeezing you against him in a tight embrace. He lets you catch your breath, but only for a moment. 

“Look at me,” he demands as he lifts you up to face him. Your face is undoubtedly a mess of tears, but Vernon thinks you’ve never looked more beautiful.

“Such a good girl for me,” he says as he plays with your breasts. His cock twitches against his stomach, painfully hard, straining for release. “Should I give you my cum now, love?”

“Please,” you beg.

“Where do you want it, baby?”

You open your mouth wide and exaggeratedly stick your tongue out. 

“Fuck,” Vernon groans. “Whatever you want, babygirl.”

Quickly you climb off of him, kneeling between his legs as he sits upon the edge of the bed. You take his cock in your hand, giving him a few pumps as you take his balls in your mouth. You lick up his length, letting his tip rest against your swollen, wet lips as you look up at him with big doe eyes. He brushes your hair out of your face.

“So beautiful.”

You stick your tongue out, giving his cock kitten licks as you gaze into his eyes. You then take his length in your mouth, swallowing him to his base.

“Oh fuckkkk,” he moans.

You look up at him as you suck his cock, gagging on his length and creating a mess of spit all over him. He stares at you as if he thinks you’re the most desirable thing in the universe - and to him, you are.

“Look at you, princess,” he coos. “So pretty with my cock in your pretty little mouth.”

You speed your pace, your head bobbing up and down faster and faster. Nothing matters more to you in the world right now than bringing him pleasure. His eyelids flutter as his eyes begin to roll back, soft moans emanating from his lips as he pushes your head down, making you take all of him with each stroke of your mouth. Grotesque sounds try to escape you, to no avail; the vibrations of your hums send Vernon over the edge. He lets out a string of “ah, ah, ah”s, getting louder as he gets closer and closer, until…

“Oh my goddddd.”

His hips jerk upwards as he releases, painting the back of your throat with hot white ropes of cum. His cock throbs in your mouth as you swallow his load. The pressure upon your head lessens as the tension in his body begins to fade. Giving you a final few spurts of cum, he relaxes; he pulls you back up onto the bed, taking you in his arms as he rolls over onto his side. He holds you against him, you as his little spoon, as he peppers your cheek with kisses. He whispers into your ear, his voice low and raspy.

“I fucking love you.”

You smile. “I fucking love you too, baby.”

He takes your chin in his hand as he turns your face toward his. He gives you a long kiss. As his lips part from yours, he squishes your face playfully.

“But don’t do that again,” he says with a grin.

You giggle. “I won’t - but next time I come home from a trip you have to fuck me right away.”

Vernon presses his nose against yours, his face dead serious. “Yes ma’am.”

You kiss him again. “Don’t you have to get back to work?”

He shakes his head. “Can’t work, the internet is out.”

“Oh yeah,” you grin back at him. “Bummer.”

“Besides,” he continues, shifting you onto your back and making his way down the bed, positioning himself between your legs. He wraps his arms around your thighs, pulling you up to his face.

“I’m starving.”

[srrynrk]

⋆. 𐙚 ˚ Stages of a petty dispute ! . . . ( 西村力 )

01. Style 운명 . Story 02. CONTAINS: Angst, angst, fluff, crack if you squint so exponentially hard, talks of dieting/body image issues, ni-ki‘s dumb and oblivious, fighting, pettiness, think that’s it ! 03. wc ! 1,710

The cause

Getting your hair and makeup done was boring, but Riki came along every time (wether you asked him to or not) so at least he was there to keep you company

Riki and Jake both sat on the couch showing each other stupid things on there phones and play fighting

At one point you and Riki had gotten into a conversation Mainly complaints from you about how unfair the manager was to you about dieting, Riki being Riki took this as a chance to make a joke. "Well maybe you should stop eating so much and he wouldn’t be so tough on you" He laughed, pretty loudly despite the joke not being funny, you looked at him through the mirror, almost disgustedly, just to see Jake not laughing either.

If anything he looked just as confused as you, but despite that Riki smoothly changed the subject and started joking around with Jake again. You turned back to the mirror, not looking at anything in it, simply spacing out. Riki had never made those types of jokes about you, he always talked about your body in such a sweet way, it was shocking to say the least.

2. The start

Workday was done, you were back at the dorms, and Riki was nowhere in sight.

He was probably in his room playing video games, as you could tell from the loud gun noises. Meanwhile, you sat in your room, confused and slightly heartbroken he would say something like that.

It had been hours since the incident and it’s all you’ve thought about. Riki, out of all people should know that wasn’t funny. Joke or not. Out of all people, HE would know about your image issues HE would be the one to know about your eating habits, The phone chimed, pulling you out of thought, it was Riki

"Babbbbyyyyyy can i come lay with you

i’m tired and i want to hold you" You wanted to say no fuck off but you didn’t, that would’ve been too straight forward and you wanted to be petty and drag it out. Make sure he felt realllllyyyy bad so you texted back "Not rn, i’m studying" Dry and assertive. Not at all how you text him usually, it was perfect !! "mmm okay :("

"can i come in after?? pretty plsss" You just ignored this one

It made you feel a litttlee guilty but he deserved it for being an ass

3. The rising emotions / tension

It had been 2 days since you've started ignoring Riki (kinda)

You were only answering his texts here and there and you hadn't let him sleep with you not even once.

Sure it was only 2 days but it was too much for him, he got used to sleeping with you, and he struggles to fall asleep without you now! You even locked the door just in case he tried to come in after being ignored over the phone

Riki started to get suspicious

He presumed the worst, you fell out of love, you were cheating, he did something wrong without realizing it, he didn't know what he did, but he intended to find out

But it's kinda hard when you won't stop dodging him

Night 3 of being ignored, and it got increasingly harder for him to sleep

It was 1am and he hadn't been able to properly keep his eyes shut for longer than 5 mins so he decided to get some water

When he walked out to the kitchen he saw you, wearing only his t-shirt, some shorts and a jacket

He loved seeing you in his clothes so it was like a jab to the heart

he almost got on his knees and started begging for forgiveness for whatever he did right then and there

"What are you doing up so late baby?" You looked up to see him walking towards you "Just getting some water"

"Ohh me too" It came out kind of shaky sounding, like he was trying to make small talk with a stranger

"Here have mine" Putting the glass down you started to walk off, not noticing Riki's hand reaching out for your wrist, just barely missing you.

While you went back to your room Riki sat in the kitchen kind of hurt.

He pondered on going after you but the last thing he wanted to do was annoy you or upset you more so despite the need for physical connection, he drank the water and went back to his room.

He laid in bed for another hour before giving up and playing some video games to pass the time

Riki got a solid 3 hours of sleep that night

Riki is dying and is determined to figure out what he did

4. The climax

Day 4 of being ignored, he felt like he was going to pull all his hair out

During dance practice he thought of every thing he did that could warrent this type of reaction and every way he could fix it

After thinking for a while he came to the conclusion that he must've made you jealous, probably from talking to Danielle for 0.2 seconds regarding work things

How? He had zero clue but that didn't matter.

After practice while everyone else went to lunch, he booked back home to shower and head out. He ran to your favorite cafe, and your favorite boba shop.

By the time he got back home, everyone else, including you, were back home, and he already thought about what he was going to say when he got back; sure you had gotten jealous before but it never seem to make you this upset so he had to go all out this time.

He knocked on your bedroom door, hoping you'd actually let him in this time, "who is it?"

"Riki" There was a moment of silence that made Riki worry even more but you told him to come in so he was relieved but, you were confused when he walked in with boba and bags.

You thought maybe he was finally apologizing, perhaps he finally realized what he did and wanted to own up to it.

You put down your phone and walked over to him, as he put the boba and bags on your desk. He seemed a little more nervous the closer you got but he took a deep breath in and started talking

"I know I messed up, and you don't have to forgive me but I want to make it right." Good start good start

"I don't want anyone but you baby, I mean I barely even talk to her. It was purely for work I promise." Huh

"But I completely understand your upset, and you have every"

"What" You cut him off mid-sentence, mainly just cause you were confused

"uhh what?" Riki though, seemed more confused than you

"What are you on about Nishimura"

"Uhhhhhhhhhhhh, you're mad at me?"

"Obviously."

"And I'm trying to apologize?" He seemed unsure of himself

"Okay... for what?" He thought long and hard about his answer "Talking to Danielle the other day?..." DUMBFOUNDED

You couldn't believe that's what he genuinely thought you were upset about

"Bro I do not care about Danielle." emphasizing the "not"

Riki's eyes widened with confusion "Haha what."

"You didn't seriously think I was upset about you talking to Danielle? About work?" He gave a sheepish smile

"I'm sorry baby I really don't know what I did but I can NOT handle being ignored like this."

"The eating joke Riki. How do you not understand that, that wasn't okay." It's like the gears started turning in his head "OHHHHH"

You rolled your eyes "Oh my god baby I am so sorry."

"You laughed when other people make those jokes so I assumed it was okay..."

"No it's not okay Riki?? I only laugh because they're my bosses, I'm not allowed to be upset about it"

It took Riki a second to process and think, "I know I know, I'm realizing that now. Seriously I am so sorry baby... I clearly wasn't thinking it through and it was a horrible joke to make."

You nodded, verbally telling him to go on

"You don't have to forgive me, I know it was shitty but just know that I didn't mean it, baby."

He walked closer to you, putting his hands on your face, "You are the prettiest girl in the entire world, and I mean that. I never meant to hurt you that much baby, and I promise I won't ever make a joke like that again. And I'll think more thoroughly about the things I say, the last thing I want to do is upset you pretty."

You looked up at him, your eyes glossed over slightly.

What Riki did was wrong, but deep down a part of you knew he didn't mean it.

And he was so good at making you feel better.

You got on your tippy toes and kissed him.

It was deeper than usual, the lack of time together made it sweeter

Riki pressing into your lips and savoring every last second.

"I love you so so so so much."

"I love you too Ki. And I'm not mad at you, it just... was shocking? To say the least, I didn't expect it from you of all people, nor did I expect you to take 4 days to apologize" You smiled slightly

"But in the end, you did apologize and you took accountability so that's all that matters. Next time I'll come to you first without ignoring you for days, it was petty."

"No no it wasn't petty" He rubbed your cheek "But please don't do it again, iv got like a solid 10 hours of sleep the past few days and I almost threw myself off the HYBE building." You giggled at that, happy to hold him again

Riki went back in for another kiss which led to a long night of catching up.

Kissing, cuddling, "I love you"s, ect ect, gross couple stuff.

Riki was dumb sometimes and wasn't the best at using his words, but he always tried for you and even showed it in his own way and that's all that matters.

@taiyaakii

[shotmrmiller]

when the video on your phone freezes for a heartbeat, just a fraction of a second, you're jolted back to reality.

and then it begins to vibrate in your hand. you stare at the screen, eyes squinting against the unforgiving glow that pierces the darkness you're enveloped in. (had been, anyway.)

in the corner of it says 2:03 am. witching hour. when the world holds its breath. everyone except for him. as always.

the same man who couldn't fit you into his meticulously curated world for longer than a night; a world where emotions were ruthlessly shoved into a cardboard box and labeled non-essential. (yet dogs you endlessly.)

the phone continues to ring, vibration buzzing like a mosquito in your ear. you run through your very limited options. ignore it and you'll have to suffer with him having nothing better to do than cause you to lose sleep because you need the alarm to go off in the morning or pick up and let him prod at old wounds with his gloved fingers.

(fingers you wish were curling inside you again, pad of his thumb rubbing on your aching-)

this isn't the first time he's disrupted your peace using an unknown number and it isn't the first time you answer despite knowing you shouldn't.

maybe in another life you'll have better self control.

(your masturbation session will have to wait.)

before you even get a word out, he's already cutting you off. "pet. didn't wake ya, did i?"

insufferable fucking man. "you know what time it is. what do you want, Simon? here i thought blocking both your number and johnny's would get the point across." you hope your tone conveys the weariness better on his end than it did on yours.

he merely hums, a disinterested noise that ripples through the phone. you're tempted to hang up but you know the script. he'll just call. again. and again. and again.

"were ya watchin' our video again?" heat spreads up from your neck to the soft of your cheeks. there's no way he knew what you were doing before picking up. pure mortifying happenstance.

"i was." a tight breath warms the inner side of your wrist. he's always been a straight shooter which on him is both a strength and a flaw, and right now, with the way his voice carries over the phone, it's your weakness. good thing he's not here to notice the way you squeeze your thighs together.

"'nd it got me to thinkin' on how sweet you'd been then, bleary eyed 'nd pliant beneath me," your lower stomach burns white-hot, knowing the exact type of filth he likes to talk when he's in this kind of mood, "how thin i had your pussy stretched 'round me."

your core pulses at the memory of him resting against the firm seal of your womb, his work-worn palm pressing your stomach, as if trying to feel himself from the outside. (maybe he could, maybe he couldn't, you wouldn't know. not when he had you sitting on his lap as his own personal cock sleeve for longer than you deemed necessary. you'd been incoherent then.)

with liquid heat flowing through your veins, prickling at your fingertips, burning behind your eyelids, doing what he says next had never been easier.

"take your shorts off 'touch tha' pretty pussy f'me."

(you'd disconnected all the cameras in your room except for the one you didn't know was there. he's gotta keep a sharp eye on what's his, yknow? of course not, how could you? as far as you're concerned, he's just coincidentally calling when your hand is weaving downward to rub the little bundle of nerves between your legs with a home video he'd recorded of him fucking you stupid one tipsy night playing on your phone.)

[cheeseceli]

Your nephew is jealous of him

Pairing: ot7 BTS × Gn! reader (individually)

Genre: fluff, reactions, a bit of crack

Request: when they try to get close to the reader, their toddler niece/nephew won't let them. The baby is really possessive of y/n and doesn't like anyone touching them.

Warnings: some of them are almost fighting with the kids lmao; that's it.

A/n: this was actually so fun lmao | daily click

Jin

‌oh so this is his first trial to prove himself as boyfriend material, he sees

‌he's ready

‌will try to befriend your niece

‌is actually trying to enchant her and be like "hey I'm nice too :D"

‌and honestly it's working?

‌of course it is, bro is doing everything the little girl asks of him 😭

‌but his goal is not to steal you from your niece

‌is to steal your niece from you

‌being liked by the family ✔️

having a chance of being invited on next hangouts ✔️

impressing you by showing he's good with kids ✔️

‌he's so winning

Suga

‌he's honestly a bit confused

‌because why can't he be even three meters near you??

‌at first he thought the kid wanted to play with you or just missed you

‌but then he noticed the problem was him 💀

‌your nephew just low-key hates him

‌and actually, Yoongi ain't doing anything to change his mind

‌he's just chilling as far from you as possible

‌just so the kid doesn't make a scene

‌and when you laugh at him and try to get closer saying "it's okay"

‌he's like "please don't come any closer your nephew will attack me-"

‌kid 1, suga 0

J-hope

‌he thought it was funny

‌cute even

‌it was good to know kids liked you

‌that could only mean you were a very good person right?

‌well, now Hobi is the one who's almost becoming a bad person 💀

‌he can't handle your niece trying to take him away from you every. single. time

‌like hey, I like them too??

‌he's trying to either bribe her or just straight up calling her mother to take her away

‌"that's not mature" he doesn't care that much atp

‌he just wants a second with you without a kid screaming at him

Namjoon

‌he truly is trying to be the bigger person

‌he knows he is the adult and your nephew is just a little kid

‌but he is about to start beef with this child

‌he tried his best, but now he's just stressing😭

‌he really thought he could use this opportunity to get closer to your family but that's just too much

‌tries to leave you and the kid for a while and then he tries small talk with the rest of your family members

‌but if he comes back after a hour or two and your nephew is still being possessive

‌he's about to cling to you so the kid either makes a scene and is taken by his parents or just notice that he can't win

‌namjoon 1, kid 0

Jimin

‌he gives up

‌the kid can have whatever he wants, Jimin is not fighting him😭

‌in the beginning he tried to like talk with your nephew

‌negotiate even

‌but then the kid just starts screaming and kicking him when he tries to get close to you and he's like "yeah, no"

‌he can endure being away from you for a while

‌kid 1, jimin 0

Taehyung

‌i'm honestly surprised this kid likes you more than him because damn

‌he truly has his charms when it comes to kids

‌and I think your nephew would like him quite a lot honestly

‌that is until he decides to come close to you

‌and at first taehyung is just a little confused

‌but then he's offended

‌like "I thought we were friends?!"

‌is honestly more upset with the fact the child suddenly doesn't care about him when you're near than the fact he can't be around you

Jungkook

‌oh now this is a competition

‌"no, my niece is only three years old"

‌he doesn't care.

‌if she didn't wanna compete then she shouldn't have started it

‌he is trying to distract her like "oh look, an airplane"

‌and then he's running to you the moment she is busy with something else

‌and actually gets like 🤨😦😔 when he sees he lost for a child

‌actually relieved when the evening is over and you guys are going back home

‌ but if there's a next time, bro will make a whole war strategy and will be prepared

Masterlist | you'll probably like: you have a lot of plushies

Reminder that this is all fiction, this does not represent the members in real life!

Taglist (open!): @yuyubeans @butnotmontana @lelewright1234

Dividers by @peachesboard | images 1 , 2 and 3

[endzithefangirl]

Sleepy interruptions

Authors note: Hello, I'm back. Don't ask why or how I wrote this Max Verstappen blurb, but here we are. Also, I have like 8 more fanfics that I've been working on that I plan on publishing at some point (you can thank @angelussiderum for always reminding me to write).

Summary: An unexpected guest crashes Max's stream

Warnings: English isn't my first language, no use of Y/N, gender not specified but the term 'girlfriend' is used, sleep deprivation? is that a warning

Word count: 516

You hated these long working hours, especially now during the summer. You can hear Max streaming on ‘Red Line’ in the other room. Now, 9.9 times out of ten, you wouldn’t bother him. But… You just haven't seen him in almost 20 hours and it's already 11pm... So, you walk into the streaming room. Max was sitting behind a huge PC that had about 4 screens; his monitors were showing a game that he was playing while he is streaming on his main monitor.

"Come on... come on.... there…!" He mutters as he plays, too caught up in his game to notice you entering the room. You, in your sleep deprivation and probably from too much diet Pepsi, just walk towards him and wrap your arms around him from behind, not giving two shits who sees at this point. His eyes widen as he feels your arms around him and turns his head enough for only you to hear him speak so that the stream doesn't hear him.

"Baby... you know I'm streaming right now…"

You can see he's surprised, but more confused, as you never really walk in when he's streaming. You, again in the sleep deprived state running on practically nothing, kiss his cheek very softly. It was maybe too tender as his face goes red and whatever he was about to say is forgotten. His mind went blank for a moment, his cheeks turning a darker shade of red as he stares at you. He wanted to say something or protest, but he couldn't bring himself to do so, his brain having stopped fully functioning after your unexpected actions.

"B-baby... I'm…" He stutters out, slowly processing what had just happened and trying to regain control by turning his gaze back to the game on his screen. You move away and then leave, your mind taking you straight to bed.

'Ohhh look who just made a stream debut, huh Max?' one of his friends from the stream laughed as Max attempted to compose himself. Max let out a shaky exhale, trying to compose himself enough to respond. "Y-yeah, unexpected cameo from my girlfriend..." He mutters, rubbing the back of his neck as he spoke and feeling how warm his cheeks were by now, he knew he probably looked like a tomato.

The chat started to flood with more messages as people saw how flustered Max had been and saw this as an opportunity to tease him

'Looooooool brooo you didn't know what to say to your gf'

'Did she just interrupt your game?'

'Man your cheeks are so red bro are you blushing??'

Max was silently cursing everything and everyone at that moment, including you, even if it was your actions, or lack of actions, that got him into this messy situation in the first place. He took a deep and shaky exhale trying to calm himself down so he could come up with a decent excuse to explain to chat

"Shut up guys... I just wasn't expecting that to happen... my girlfriend usually doesn't come into my room while I'm streaming... obviously"

[malertop]

OMG,can you do Peter Parker (Tom Holland) x Male Reader where Peter is fucking himself on a dildo while moaning about Male Reader and then Male Reader caught him (let's say because he just kissed Peter and wanted to see him) and then Peter stop's and pulls out the dildo but his asshole was so sloppy and gaped/wrecked/opened that he couldn't move and then he uses that moment and snatched the male reader, first he gave him a blowjob and then he started to fuck himself on male reader cock,ahd in the end he becomes a mess and his asshole was gaped even more when Male Reader pulls his cock out

Peter Parker x Male Reader

CAUGHT YOU

"Oh, oh shit- ah~" Peter breathed out as he was slowly picking up the pace of fucking himself on his dildo. His thoughts wandered, his mind only thinking about what it would be like if it was Y/N's cock, long and thick, thrusting deep inside of him. He closed his eyes as he started bouncing on it more and more, unable to suppress his needy moans. He couldn't stop himself. He was thrusting the dildo deeper inside of him, moaning from the painful enjoyment as his hole was starting to get bigger and sloppier. "Ugh-Ah Y/N~" Peter moaned again as he continued bouncing himself towards the dildo deeper and deeper, his hands were on his nipples as he was playing with them, just making him moan more and more, god knows how the bed is still okay after his hard and fast bounces from his legs.

"Hey Petey I wanted to te-" Y/N said as he barged through the door,not noticing the moans that left from Peter's mouth until he entered and heart them himself.Peter opened his eyes and seeing someone who he did not expect to see, his boyfriend , the person he is just fantasising is Infront of him and indeed shocked. Peter pulled out the dildo as his hole was gaped opened, his rose revealed and his hole opened as it was very much to add sloppy and wet. "I-" Y/N said with a shocked face as he couldn't say a thing, his eyes were on his boyfriends hole and body. Peter stayed in the bed as he was panting not knowing what to do now.

1 Hour ago:

"Okay so we're here" Y/N said with a smile as he was holding Peter's hands "Thank you for coming with me" Peter said as they both stood Infront of his and aunt May house/apartment "Don't mention it Petey, you know I will always do anything for you!" Peter blushed as Y/N finished his sentence, Y/N and Peter let go of their hands now no longer holding their hands "Okay Petey, love you but I need to go" Y/N said as with a smile again and started to walk out but then he felt a hand stopping him "Wait!" Peter said as he held Y/N's hand "What is it?" Y/N asked with a smile and confused voice "Just...That!" Peter said and put his lips on Y/N's mouth and kissed him, the kiss continued for 2 minutes but then aunt May opened the door "Hey boys-Oh, Sorry!" She said as she entered inside again, giving them privacy as they both let go "Okay..I think now it really is time to go!" Y/N said with with a smile while they both chuckled as they both smiled and looked at each other.

Present:

Peter looked at Y/N and thought that maybe that was finally his moment and he should use it while he can, Peter shot a web on Y/N's chest and snatched male reader towards him, Y/N landed in the bed next to Peter who started to kiss him, he let his tongue inside Y/N's mouth as Y/N didn't expect that, Y/N followed and did the same after 1 minute. Peter put one of his arms on Y/N's face while the other one was on his tight , Peter finally let go of the kiss as he placed his hand on Y/N's place and went straight for the zipper. "W-Wait Pete..you know I am a virgin" Y/N said with a shaky voice as he was still shocked and now nervous from Peter's actions "Well you know..it's time to change that" Peter said with a smirk as he started to unzip Y/N's pants "Wait!" Y/N shout as his cock was now revealed "I knew you were big..but not that big Y/N" Peter said with a smirk as his hands touched Y/N's cock, Y/N cock leaked out pre-cum from Peter's touch which made Peter blush and smirk more and was now more than ready for his next step, he looked at Y/N eye's and put his tongue on his tip which made him leak more pre-cum.

"Ahh-Pete..W-augh~" Y/N moaned as he felt Peter's mouth on his cock, Peter started moving his head up and down, Peter was taking Y/N's cock fully inside his mouth, gagging on his cock as he moved his head up and down but that didn't stop him. Peter had the majority of Y/n's cock in his mouth, sucking him off at a rhythmic pace. His hand was around the base, jerking the other off. Peter only wanted for Y/n to be sent over the edge, so he did his best - adding to the pleasure with his hand in compensation for what he couldn't fit in his mouth. His eyes rolled as he continued to gag on Y/N's cock as Y/N moans didn't stop, Peter stopped at the deepest he could, gagging himself as his eyes rolled again as he could feel Y/N's cock in his throat, Peter let go with the sound of a 'pop' and started panting, breathing for air as he looked at Y/N who was also panting and all red from blushing.

"You know Y/N.." Peter said as he was still breathing for air "for a virgin...you last long" he said with a smirk as he got on top of Y/N "guess we're going the next way, the one I've always wanted.." Peter said with a smirk as he could feel Y/N's cock touching his asshole, he looked at Y/N and said "you will fill so much better Y/N..just let my hole handle it.." with a smirk and entered himself on Y/N's cock "Oh-F-Oh, shit!" he moaned as he felt Y/N's cock inside of him,opening his hole "Pete-Oh my gosh!" Y/N moaned as he felt Peter's walls around his cock. His tight hole was easily starting to open as Peter started sliding even more thanks to his sloppy hole "Fuck Y/N, you're wrecking me!~" Peter said as he finally took Y/N's cock fully inside of him, which made his eyes wide for a second as he gasped , feeling Y/N cock fully inside of him was something he always wanted and now he has it. Peter fastly started fucking himself on Y/N's cock , not giving a second to be wasted as he wanted Y/N to cum inside of him "Fuck Y/N! You're destroying my pussy!~" Peter moaned as he looked at Y/N who couldn't even move as he was all red, blushing from the situation as he sees his nerdy cute adorable strong boyfriend fucking himself on his own cock, losing his virginity. Peter started thrusting himself on Y/N's cock faster which made his eyes roll from the enjoyment "Fuck-Ah, fuuuuuck my boy cunt is getting so wrecked!~" Peter said as he started losing his mind "Pete w-wait I feel like I am going to cum!" "Then cum inside of me Y/N, cum inside my boy pussy and make it a mess!~" Peter said as he was thrusting faster, moaning so much that probably his neighbours could hear him "FUCK MEE Y/N! DESTROY MY CUNT AND FILL ME UP WITH YOUR CUM!~" Peter loudly said with moans "Wai-No Pete..I-i am cumming!~" Y/N said as he finally Y/N came inside of Peter who's eyes rolled as he stopped thrusting "finally..I got your cum inside of me" Peter said with a smile as he pulled out of Y/N's cock, his asshole was gaped even more than before as his rose came out for a second, Peter looked at his hole which was gaped as his rose was out and then slapped it which made the rose go back inside of his gaped asshole, cum falling out of his hole, dripping Y/N's cum out as Peter smirked and looked at Y/N "you destroyed me N/N..and it was so so so good.."

[deakyjoe]

Every Breath You Take

Pairing: Michael Myers x Reader (afab but no pronouns used I don’t think)

Category: stalker romance (??), smut (!!)

Summary: It shouldn’t exhilarate you so much knowing a serial killer was stalking you. But you just can’t help yourself.

Warnings: 18+ only, smut, unprotected p in v sex (wrap it before you tap it), vaginal fingering, dry humping, biting, licking, creampie, overstimulation, motorboating, pain as pleasure, slight voyeurism/exhibitionism, choking, scent kink, multiple orgasms, nipple play, over the clothes handjob, under the clothes handjob, slight dubcon (only because Michael doesn’t talk but I tried to make it as clear as possible that they just want to fuck each other), stalking, mentions of injuries and blood, mentions of murder, breaking and entering, morally questionable reader, mask is on and off, lights stay off during sex, virgin Michael, a little dark I guess (??)

Word count: 6.4k

A/N: For those who love masked men (aka me). For those who want to fuck slashers (aka me). For those who love the quiet type (aka me). For those who love a tall man (aka me). For those who love a strong man (aka me). I wrote this for me basically. I don’t think there’s much of an audience for Michael Myers fics within my followers but hopefully it reaches the right side of Tumblr :)

Consider buying me a coffee :)

It was probably disgusting how much it excited you knowing he watched you every day.

He'd stand in your back yard each night, totally still, and just look through your windows for hours. And then, when he was satisfied you assumed, he'd leave. But he always came right back the next day at the same time.

When you'd first noticed him, you'd been terrified. Naturally. You knew exactly who he was, you watched the news and heard stories. And the white mask and blue coveralls were unmistakable. You'd seen him through your window and locked all of the doors immediately. Then you waited. Patiently.

You didn't know what you were waiting for. Him to kill you... or to defend yourself. Your chances of survival were slim, he was inhumanly strong from what you'd heard. But you clutched a knife in your hand nonetheless, mirroring him in a strange way, in case you did suddenly have to fight him off.

Luckily, it never came down to that dilemma as he left a couple of hours later without even a step closer to your back door. You blinked and he was gone.

He came back the next night and did the same thing. And then the next night. And the next. And the next. Until it became a ritual.

You went about your evening and he watched. You always wondered whether he watched you during the day as well but you'd never noticed him. You also wondered what it was about you that didn't make him murder you straight away.

You were older than his usual victims, sure. And he supposedly liked to commit most of his crimes whilst his victims were in the middle of sexual acts and you didn't tend to have many visitors over. But then what was making him fixate on you?

You just couldn't figure it out.

It got to a point where you were less scared of him and more intrigued. Having him stand and stare was getting boring, you wanted to know why. No. You craved knowing why. But you couldn't ask him. You'd heard he wasn't fond of talking.

So what were you supposed to do? Just let it carry on? That was your only choice.

But things changed one evening.

When he appeared something didn't seem quite right. For one, he was seven minutes later than usual. And his left shoulder slumped forward with all of his weight placed onto his right leg.

He was injured.

And you couldn't help but feel bad for him.

So, like an insane person, you unlocked your door and opened it for him.

As you stood in the doorway staring at him, you noticed him straighten up. As if he were surprised. But you knew the man didn't show emotions, much less any that would display him being caught off guard in any way. So you put it down as your imagination or a trick of the moonlight.

But you left your door open. An invitation. Like he needed one of those.

He didn't move so you left the doorway and went to retrieve your first aid kit from the cabinet above the sink. And by the time you'd found it and turned back around, Michael Myers was standing about a foot into your kitchen.

You stared at him for a second, unsure of the emotions turning in your stomach. "Close the door. It's cold outside."

You really didn't know if you could afford to be giving him orders but considering he hadn't murdered you in the months he'd been watching you, you thought that you were probably safe until you'd at least bandaged up whatever wounds hid beneath the blue jumpsuit.

Not sticking around to see if he did it, you walked to your lounge and put a lamp on. His footsteps were silent so you kept an eye on the archway where he'd emerge from the kitchen. Which he did a few seconds later.

"Sit on the couch."

Surprisingly, he did as he was told. But you thought you might be pushing your luck so you stopped telling him to do things.

As he sat down, not relaxed in the slightest with the best posture you'd ever seen, you realised that getting a wounded man to sit on your nice furniture was probably a bad idea. What if he got blood everywhere? Too late now. You weren't going to ask him to move.

You moved towards him slowly, trying not to spook him. He still had a knife clutched in his hand after all. It was bloodstained. You ignored it.

Michael watched you closely, his head didn't move but you could feel his gaze through the dark eyeholes of the mask. It didn't escape your notice that he was still extremely tall even when sat down.

"What's hurt?"

It was a stupid question, you could see where blood was seeping through his clothes and the slashes in the fabric was clear. But given your very recent history of poor choices, an obvious question seemed like the least of your worries.

He didn't respond anyway. No finger point, no head tilt, no shrug. Not a single inch of his body moved apart from his chest from his breathing. If you couldn't see his inhales and exhales then you'd think he was some sort of dummy or mannequin.

"Have you got a shirt on underneath the jumpsuit?"

Why were you still asking questions?

He still said nothing, which you expected, but he did raise a hand to pop the first couple buttons open to reveal a grey t-shirt under the blue coveralls.

You sighed and nodded. "Um, you're going to need to- to undo a few more buttons. So I can get to your shoulder."

The blood stain was getting bigger and staining his clothes a deep purple.

He tilted his head to the side at you, the most emotion he'd shown so far. But he did as he was told again and then pushed the suit down his arms so it lowered to his waist. You didn't fail to notice how the grey t-shirt clung to him nicely, maybe a size or two too small, and displayed every inch of rippling muscle that covered him. Explained his inhuman strength.

You took a few supplies from the kit and started cleaning up the injury on his shoulder, careful to avoid staring at how his sleeve stretched against his bicep.

When you noticed him staring at you from the corner of your eye, you cleared your throat and pulled away again to distract yourself with looking for other injuries. Which was a fine idea until you realised that blood was dripping from beneath the rubber that adorned his face.

You went to lift the edge of the mask, no intention of taking it off, but his large hands gripped your wrists before you even had the chance. The knife was suddenly forgotten on the cushion of the couch.

You gasped in pain, his hold was tight, but didn't pull away. Trying your hardest to meet his eyes as best you could, you attempted to explain. "I'm not going to take it off but I need to get to your neck. You're bleeding. Lift the mask to your chin and hold it there so I can clean your neck."

There were a few tense moments of heavy breathing from him before he let go and did as you said. He was too agreeable, very out of character from all of the stories you'd heard about him. Were people wrong? Or was he acting differently than usual? How were you supposed to know?

You shook the thoughts from your head and got on with cleaning him up. You couldn't find the source of the blood so assumed it must've been coming from higher up on his face. But you weren't going to ask him to lift the mask anymore. You were a risk taker, if the night was any indication of that, but you didn't have a death wish. Mostly.

"Done." You mumbled and stepped back a few paces, looking down to clean away all of your supplies.

By the time you looked up he was standing again fully clothed.

"You going to kill me now finally?" There was a hint of laughter in your voice. If he did you wouldn't blame him. You probably deserved it after inviting a serial killer into your home and treating him like his own personal nurse.

He didn't respond, just turned and left the room. And by the time you got to the kitchen to follow him out, he was gone and the back door was shut and locked like he'd never even been there.

"See you tomorrow night then." You grumbled to yourself, assuming he'd return as he usually did.

And he did.

Uninjured this time. To your relief and, honestly, slight disappointment. There was really something very wrong with you.

But the routine returned to normal. Michael Myers would appear in your back yard every night at the same time and watch you for hours with no sign of even attempting to enter your house to murder you. And he'd leave when he was done watching whatever he sought out from you.

The initial thrill you'd had knowing he liked watching you had disappeared quickly after you'd realised there was less danger than you'd expected. And the fact that you could get so much closer to him was more exciting than anything else.

The idea of him being inside your house again played on your mind constantly, rolling around in there as regularly as a forbidden fantasy. And maybe it was. But surely you weren't fantasising about Michael Myers... right?

Perhaps the memory of his muscles and his height, just his sheer size even, plagued your brain way more often than was considered normal. The thought that he could probably just snap you in two with his large hands and impossible strength if he chose to, how easy it would be for him to break in and end your life on his will. But he chose not to.

That set your nerves alight.

So you turned your nights into a staring contest.

He'd stand in your back yard and stare into your window. You'd stand in your kitchen and stare out of your window.

And you slowly got more daring. You began to retire to bed earlier, going upstairs to your bedroom and changing right in his direct view. It was one of the few times he moved, tilting his head up slightly to see you better through the mask.

You didn't give him a full show, knowing it probably wasn't what he wanted. He liked to kill "promiscuous" people after all. But it was enough to give him an idea, a way to tease him. It was entertaining for you at least, even if he wasn't bothered.

But then one night when you noticed that he was a few feet closer to your house, you realised it was probably working.

He was tempted.

Whether it was to kill you or to do something else, you weren't sure. But you were exhilarated either way.

When he returned obviously injured again a few nights later, you sighed to yourself in annoyance. Yes, you were excited he'd be in your house again. But out of need, not want. You still unlocked your door and left it open for him as you waited in the lounge nevertheless.

When he emerged from the dark archway between your kitchen and your lounge, you looked him up and down. His stance was better than last time but he was covered in more blood. You deduced that it probably wasn't his.

"Sit." You whispered hoarsely. "Please."

Like manners were going to affect whether he killed you or not.

It went pretty much the same as the time before, cleaning the blood from him as best you could and bandaging up what was easy to access. He didn't flinch or wince, not even at the stuff that made your toes curl just from touching.

It wasn't until you were just finishing off spreading some antibacterial lotion on a gash on his thigh that you noticed he was breathing heavier than usual. You looked up at him and frowned, confused. But when he gave you no indication as to why he was suddenly almost hyperventilating, you shrugged it off and reached for a band-aid. As you glanced towards the wound to get an idea of the size you'd need for it, you realised what was wrong.

"Oh."

He was hard.

"Oh."

The prominent bulge in his crotch wasn't shy in showing you that it was there. He was big, to say at the very least.

Your mouth opened and closed a couple of times before you settled on a reassurance. "It's okay. This happens. Especially when someone is touching you a lot."

You figured this was the most he'd been touched in over a decade.

"I'll just uh..." You stood up to step away from him but he launched his arm forward to grab you by the wrist, not letting you go any further.

"Michael..."

He answered you by tugging your body into his lap, legs straddling either side of his thighs. You made sure not to settle your weight onto him, very conscious of what that could lead to.

But he had other ideas.

He planted both of his large hands on either side of your waist and pushed you to sit fully against him. And there was a lot to sit against.

You bit your tongue to prevent any noise coming out. What now? What did he expect?

His breathing was shaky as he surveyed you through the small eyeholes of his mask, hands hovering over your sides for a second.

You couldn't deny that this position, this close proximity, was turning you on. Especially feeling how hard he was pushed up against you.

He seemed to decide what he wanted to do next as his fists gripped the fabric of your pyjama shirt, suddenly tearing it open so buttons flew everywhere and then ripping it off of you and tossing it to a darkened corner of the room. His hands didn't hesitate it exploring the new uncovered areas of skin, his rough callouses against your soft flesh. He was clearly enjoying this new adventure as he appeared to grow impossibly harder beneath you. Lots of him was impossible.

The clasp he had on your breasts was almost painful but your eyes rolled back in pleasure nevertheless. You liked that he was manhandling you, the strength you'd been fantasising about since day one finally being used on you.

His hands slid down your sides until they met your hips, fingers digging in and pulling them against his. A choked moan escaped your mouth drowning out the sound of his own grunt. When Michael decided that he seemed to like that, he did it again. Rougher this time. And quicker. Then he set a pace doing it over and over again. Your hands flew to his shoulders to give yourself something to hold onto, some grounding. Because this was more than you could handle.

How could something so simple feel so good?

The feeling of his coveralls rubbing against you through the thin material of your sleep shorts was heavenly. That, mixed with his hardness pushing against you in all the right place meant you were in pure ecstasy.

The uncontrollable noises leaving you would've been embarrassing if it weren't for the fact that this was the best you'd ever felt. And you hadn't even had sex. Yet.

Barely a sound left Michael, just the occasional short groan to go along with his heavy breathing.

You couldn't quite tell where he was looking until his head suddenly snapped down and his eyes clearly fixated on where your breasts were bouncing with the rapid movement of the two of you rocking against each other. A slightly louder noise left him then.

There was no rest for you, even if your legs did grow tired and you ran out of breath because he wouldn't let you stop moving. You knew you were probably creating a wet patch on his clothes and that would only grow bigger when he finally came. You were surprised he was lasting this long to be honest. For someone who had been locked up most of his life and hadn't had any sexual experience, he had some stamina in him. But maybe he wasn't a virgin. Was your assumption wrong?

You didn't get time to dwell on it as his arm suddenly locked around your waist and he stopped the two of you. Looking down at him, he was almost the perfect picture of composure. Just some heavy breathing indicated what the two of you had been up to. You couldn't imagine you looked quite as calm.

The arm around you stiffened as he titled the two of you to the side.

"What are you doi- woah." The room was plunged into darkness as he switched the lamp off and then pulled you tight against him again. "Why did you- oh."

Your unfinished question was answered with the sound of rubber hitting the floor penetrating your ears and the feeling of Michael's breath against your skin. You didn't get the chance to question him further as to why he did that as he immediately buried his face in the valley of your breasts and rocked your hips against his to get the friction going again, his free hand rubbing up and down your thigh as the two of you moved.

You bit your bottom lip, extremely happy that he hadn't decided to just stop and leave, that this was still going. The happiness only extended when he licked a drop of sweat off of your skin and you almost screamed. But you couldn't imagine if was the kind of screaming he was used to so you bit your tongue.

Trying to adjust to the sudden absence of light by blinking, but having little success, you looked down to where you imagined Michael's head would be. You saw nothing. Naturally, the only solution to that was to move your hands up his shoulders, up his neck and into his hair. As you curled your fingers into the locks, you were pleasantly surprised to find how soft it was.

You would've smiled or giggled to yourself if he hadn't chosen that exact moment to bite into your collarbone and thrust up underneath you. Your response of tugging on his hair seemed to go down well as he did it again.

"Fuck." You whined against the top of his head, eyes scrunching shut.

That caught Michael's attention, his head pulling back and his free hand abandoning your thigh to wrap around the front of your neck, squeezing slightly when situated there.

You knew what he was doing. Mixing what he usually found pleasurable with this new experience. You wondered whether it was getting him off even more. If the way he was practically throbbing beneath you was any indication, then yes.

This added element of danger sent a shiver down your spine and an intense pulse to your core, making you rock against him without any prompting from him at all. You could still breathe but you knew he could stop that at any second if he chose to.

A breathless moan rumbled from the back of your throat as he squeezed your neck tighter, the arm locked around your waist pushing you against him even harder.

You were so close. So, so close. You chased your high like it was running away from you, rubbing yourself against him as roughly as you could. But there was no need.

Because when Michael leaned forward again to lick a long strip up from your left breast to your neck and then bit you, hard, it was like you saw the pearly gates of heaven. Or the fiery descent to hell.

Your orgasm crashed over you in hot waves as you collapsed against him, forcing his body to hit the back of the couch as your forehead met his and you gasped into his mouth, lips almost grazing but not quite meeting. Your grasp on his hair was tight, tugging on the roots like they were your lifeline. Your naked chest pressed against his clothed one, and that combined with the slight pain of the hair pulling was enough for Michael to come underneath you.

You could feel him twitching against you, only making you shudder against him more, as the wet patch on his jumpsuit grew as you predicted. The quietest extended groan left his mouth as he tensed beneath you, arms locking around you. His hips bucked up against yours a few times weakly before he grew limp.

You rested for a moment, trying to gain some strength back in your shaking legs, before you pushed off of him and stood up. Feeling around in the air for the lamp, you covered your eyes before switching it back on.

"Find your mask and put it back on." You instructed, waiting a moment for him to do so.

He didn't make any noise as he moved, as usual, and the only indication you had that he was done was the looming feeling of his presence in front of you and the sound of his exhales rattling the rubber that adorned him.

You uncovered your eyes and squinted against the sudden light, looking up to find Michael almost chest to chest with you. Well, head to chest. He was very tall after all.

Your gaze flickered down to his left hand which was slightly extended towards you. He was holding your pyjama shirt. The one he'd ruined by ripping all of the buttons off.

"Oh, thanks." You took it from him and put it back on, holding it together at the front by crossing your arms against your chest.

Probably a bad idea considering this position made the top gape open and your breasts push together to create an exaggerated cleavage. Michael didn't seem to mind as he lifted his right hand and traced a finger across the swell of your breasts for a moment before dropping his arm back to his side again.

You dropped your eyes away in embarrassment, and slight arousal, and noticed the mess the two of you had made on his blue jumpsuit.

"You're gonna want to wash that." You said, meekly gesturing towards it. You couldn't deny that seeing the stains that you'd made together was making your skin feel hot again.

He didn't even look to see what you were talking about, just continued to stare at you through his mask.

You tried to come up with something to say but nothing sprung to mind. What were you supposed to say to a serial killer that you'd just dry humped and orgasmed on top of?

It seemed like you didn't need to come up with a one-sided conversation starter though as he suddenly turned on his heel and left the room. You hesitated before following him. Stupid really since you couldn't even keep up with him at the best of times, especially not now on weak legs.

And, as usual, by the time you'd reached the kitchen he was gone and the door was locked.

He continued to return every night as normal but didn't enter your house again. No injuries seemed to be inflicted upon him for a while. You were beginning to get bored. Sighing every time he left with no hint of coming inside again.

Which is why a few days later you were very shocked by his out of character behaviour.

You woke up cold, your blankets stripped from your bed and the feeling of someone watching you sinking a chilling freeze into your bones. It was soon clear why you felt that way.

His silhouette was partially outlined by the moonlight coming through your bedroom window as he stood over you.

You shot up in bed, giving yourself a head rush. "Michael, what the fu-" You were cut off as he grasped the hand that was reaching for your bedside lamp. "No light? Why?"

He answered your question by pressing something rubber into your palm. His mask.

"Oh. Okay..." You frowned to yourself as you dropped the mask on your nightstand. What was he expecting you to do if he was injured but you couldn't see him? "I can't clean your wounds if it's dark."

It was too dark to see his face but the natural light from outside was enough to see him shake his head no. He wasn't injured. What did he need then?

"Then what? Why are you here? At this time?" You were still slightly dazed from just waking up, trying to shake some coherent thought into your head. What was the time? He'd already been and gone earlier that evening. How had he gotten in? You were sure you'd locked the door? Maybe that made no difference?

His breathing was heavy, shoulders moving up and down with his laboured inhales and exhales.

His grip on your wrist hadn't loosened as he pulled your hand towards him, resting it on his abdomen and then slowly dragging down and down and-

"Oh."

He was hard.

Very hard.

"You want me to-"

You'd guessed by this point that he probably hated hearing you talk as he was always cutting you off. This time by pushing on your shoulders so you fell flat on your back and bounced on the mattress. And then he was on top of you in mere fractions of a second.

He was smothering.

His mere presence was enough to stop your breath in your throat and having him be this close, having all of his weight pressed against you this way, practically stole the oxygen from your bloodstream.

His breath was hot on your face, his nose barely grazing against yours before he moved to trace it along your hairline and then down your neck where he inhaled deeply, groaning lowly at your scent.

You reached up to touch him but he was too fast, clasping both of your wrists in one hand and pinning them above your head.

"This doesn't work if I can't touch you." You mumbled frustratedly, more to yourself than to him.

It wasn't strictly true but what did he know? Last time he hadn't used any real technique, just done whatever felt best for him which luckily also felt good for you. He'd used the mere skill brought to him by innate exploration. Maybe this time he'd be more purposeful with you.

Unlikely.

The statement you'd made seemed to have some sort of influence on him though as he slowly let go of your wrists and let you dig one into his hair, where you gently pulled on it, and let the other drift to undo the top buttons of his coveralls. You popped them open cautiously, one by one, until your nails stroked the material of his grey undershirt. You assumed it was grey as usual.

Your fingers wandered to the neckline where you swooped the index to get a feel of his skin. He froze above you but didn't stop you.

"I'm going to undo more. Just stop me if you want. But gently." You clarified, not wanting bruised wrists in the morning which was guaranteed if he grabbed them with his vice-like grip again.

Each button fell open easily, like they were dying to be free from their clasps, and Michael didn't stop you once. And when the last one was undone, he leant back slightly on his knees to let you push the jumpsuit down so it bunched around his waist just like the first time he'd been in your house.

You took the opportunity to let your hands roam the muscles you'd been admiring since the first time you'd seen him up close. They were solid. He was solid.

He crowded over you again, breathing getting more rapid the more you touched him. He let out a soft sound when your hands reached his crotch, palming him over his clothes.

"Take them off and I can touch you more." You offered, attempting to sound sultry but sure you just sounded desperate instead.

He hesitated but did as you said, standing up to push the jumpsuit further down his legs but still not taking it off completely. Then he was on top of you again, pushing your hand against him before you even had the chance to realise he was so close again. You squeezed him through his underwear and he bucked his hips against your palm.

You did that for a while, moving your hand up and down the outline of him through the material and ignoring the ache between your own legs. Getting him riled up was a lot of fun, especially when he let noises slip every now and again. You just wished you could see the reactions on his face. Did he bite his lip? Did he screw his eyes shut? Was his jaw dropped open? You guessed you'd never know.

While those thoughts plagued your mind, it seemed Michael had changed his. And what was happening wasn't good enough for him anymore. So he slapped your hand away suddenly. Before you could even begin to utter a sentence, he ripped your pyjama shirt open.

Great, another one ruined.

His hands shot to your chest, away from where they'd been resting either side of your head previously, and he started to knead the flesh. Your back arched, pushing your chest closer to his and making your nipples rub against the fabric of his t-shirt. Michael must've figured out that the stimulation was good based on the gasp you let out as he moved his attention to your nipples, flicking and tweaking them with his fingers.

He didn't seem hesitant at all in what he was doing but it was also clear he wasn't experienced either. There was no rhythm to his touches, he just did whatever felt right. And that worked for you.

You grew extremely wet when he started grinding himself against your core from instinct alone. You wanted more, craved more, needed more.

Your hands flew to the waistband of his underwear, tugging them down a few inches to pull him free. You knew he was big but having the real thing in your hand, no clothing barriers at all, was a whole other story.

You could hear his teeth clicking shut when you started to stroke him, skin on skin, spreading his pre-cum up and down his length.

"Fuck, Michael. Jesus." You garbled, head wild with lust and nothing else. "Need you inside me."

He stopped moving at that, hands falling away from your chest and hips no longer bucking to pump himself into your palm.

Maybe he really was clueless.

"You know? Inside me?" You reached around to find one of his hands, pushing it down the waistband of your sleep shorts until his fingers met your wetness.

He wasn't even doing anything but the sensation alone of him touching you made you shiver. That was until he seemed to understand what he was feeling. His head tilted to the side, just about visible in the moonlight, as he let his fingers explore. As he grazed your clit, you squeaked quietly. He seemed to like that so he did it a couple more times, just to illicit a reaction out of you. But he got bored quickly and kept on feeling.

When he reached the source of the wetness, he pushed a finger in. You moaned. Loudly. He liked that a lot more, so pulled out the finger and reinserted with a second one joining in. Your eyes rolled back at this. And the sounds you made reached a new decibel. Michael did the same thing again and again, pumping his fingers just to feel you clench around him.

When he eventually pulled his fingers free, you whined in protest before the sounds of him sucking the taste of you off of his skin hit you. And you decided that maybe the loss of contact was okay if that's what he was going to do instead.

When he was satisfied with that, Michael tore your shorts off of you completely and tossed them over his shoulder somewhere. Then his underwear was pushed further down and he was spreading your legs apart, as far as they would go.

Your heart rate picked up further than it was already running, probably entering dangerous territory. But you didn't care. It was finally about to happen.

Michael crawled over you, shadowed face hanging above yours. You just nodded at him, wondering whether he was able to see you do it. Either way, he seemed to get the message that you really really wanted to do this. So, with a hand on one of your thighs to hold you in place, and the other on his cock to guide him, he pushed into you.

At that moment you decided that you were definitely seeing the devil in the afterlife.

But it was worth it for this.

He stretched you open perfectly, gliding in with ease considering how wet you already were. But that was nothing in comparison to how you felt hearing him letting out what could only be described as a mixture between a whimper and a pleasured groan against your ear.

If never hearing him talk meant that the noises he let out during sex made you tingle, then you'd take his silence any day.

The hand on your thigh moved to curl your leg around his waist, changing the angle so he moved into you deeper. And the other rested against your head to keep him propped up. Yours scraped down his back in ecstasy, probably leaving nail marks along the plains of his skin. You were sure he wouldn't mind, he'd had worse injuries.

He stayed still once he'd entered you, stiff but breathing heavily.

"Move, Michael." You whispered. "Please move."

And when he pulled out and slammed back in again, you were positive you could see the grim reaper knocking at your door ready to whisk you away to the tortuous pits of hell.

All you knew is that you certainly weren't seeing heaven after this.

Michael grunted, head hanging so his soft hair tickled against your skin. But he seemed to get the idea as he pumped in and out of you at a ruthless pace. Skin slapped together, your chests rubbing against one another as you bounced up and down the surface of the bed, which shuffled along the floor with every thrust.

You'd never known sex to be so loud. Maybe you'd just never had sex as good as this. Because the roaring of blood in your ears definitely wasn't helping.

You couldn't help the sounds that were escaping your parted lips, thankful that your neighbours' houses weren't close enough to hear you. Your other leg moved to wrap around Michael's waist, tugging him closer to you and locking him in place. You need him to be as close as possible, to be as deep inside you as possible.

The hand on your thigh dug in deep, certainly leaving bruises, before trailing up the length of your body and wrapping around the front of your neck. He pushed down this time, squeezing slightly to cut off your airway just a little. It excited you more than anything and made you clench around him.

That seemed unexpected to Michael as he faltered slightly before pounding into you harder than before, having absolutely no mercy on your body. You only clenched harder.

His pattern began to fumble, thrusts become more forceful but less regular. He was getting close. And you weren't far off either. You let one of your hands fall from his back and placed it between the two of you, starting to rub your clit. He took notice of this and pushed your hand away to replace it with his own, letting oxygen rush back into your lungs again.

The head rush combined with the pressure on your clit tipped you over the edge into oblivion. You choked out a muffled scream as your orgasm ripped through your body, tears falling from the corners of your eyes.

But Michael didn't let up for a second. This just seemed to give him a new wave of energy as his pace picked up rubbing tight circles on your clit and slamming into you with no forgiveness.

You approached the edge rapidly again, the raw feeling over overstimulation pushing you closer and closer. His sweat dripped onto you, creating a sheen that let your bodies slide against each other in erotic heat. You could feel every inch of him either against you or inside of you. And that thought made you come again. This time the scream was less muffled.

The feeling of you clenching around him again like a vice had Michael finally hitting his peak too, his face buried into the crook of your neck as he pumped you full of his cum. If you weren't so spent already, that would've made for three orgasms.

He bit down on the skin of your shoulder to prevent any noises coming out too loud, but he couldn't mask all of them. He twitched inside of you as he gave a few last lazy bucks of his hips before he pulled out completely, standing up and looking down at you.

You really wondered how good his vision must be in this light for him to be able to see you. Or maybe he couldn't. Maybe he was faking it.

Either way you didn't care, too exhausted suddenly to really think about it. You began to drift to sleep, desperately trying to keep your eyes open to see what he'd do next. You vaguely remembered seeing him get dressed again. But you don't remember him leaving. Or moving you to rest your head back on your pillow. Or him pulling your blankets over you again.

Maybe he didn't do any of that. Maybe you did in your sleepy state.

It didn't matter. He was still gone before you even had the chance to register what happened.

But you were pleased when the next night, you glanced out of your kitchen window and found him stood there as usual, watching you. From now on, you were just going to leave your door unlocked to make it easier for him.

A/N: To celebrate my Halloween, I watched Halloween (1978) home alone whilst my housemates all went to a party. It inspired me to write this.

[hellodropbear]

it's time. (II)

mapi leon x daughter

yay for part II! (part I here)

trust even i'm surprised that i finished this over the weekend (definitely should not have because I definitely have too much uni to be writing this)

hope you enjoy !!!!!!

~~~~~~

It was an unfamiliar sight, Mapi in the training kit. She frowned at herself in the mirror, still not entirely sure that this was the right decision. It felt unfamiliar too. The sleeves were tighter than she remembered and the shorts fell lower than they used to.

Even Isabel seemed to notice something was off with her mother, clinging to her all morning and providing her with more hugs and kisses than Mapi could have asked for.

"Go out?" The toddler was confused, clearly. It wasn't often that they left the house straight after breakfast time, but she knew they were leaving because she was dressed up in her special red and blue shirt and her Mami had brushed her curly hair back into a ponytail, clipping any stray hairs back with her favourite fluorescent clips. 

"We are going to training today, Is. Mami is going to play with your Ale and Leila from yesterday!" She mustered on a smile as large as she possibly could, trying to hide her anxieties and fear from the child and instead busying herself with slipping on her socks and some baby adidas sneakers. 

"Patri? Pina?" She frowned, wracking her brain for the other names. "Jenni?"

Mapi nodded. "Yes, with them too-"

"Ingrid!" Isabel beamed. "She pick me up!"

"Ingrid will be there, I'm sure."

The toddler laughed in delight, standing up from where she was sitting on the floor, her shoes and socks successfully on her feet. It was only when Mapi stood up too that she charged into her mother's legs, wrapping her arms around them in a big hug.

"Don't be sad, Mami!"

"I'm not sad, Is." She picked her up easily, grabbing both their bags for the morning and walking out of the apartment. "I'm excited!" 

It wasn't a long drive to the training centre, maybe half an hour. Isabel was easily entertained in the back, her lion captivating her in ways Mapi didn't think she would ever be able to comprehend.

But the 30 minutes was over too quickly and before she knew it she was walking back through those doors and into the changing rooms. She was early on purpose, wanting to avoid all the attention on her as she walked in also and wanting to meet the babysitter that the club had found to watch her daughter as she trained.

"She's 14 months old, she is smart though. She can say around 30 words and has a really good memory. She can walk well, climb up stairs if she's given the chance so please don't leave her alone near any steps because she is more than likely to fall."

The young looking girl nodded, her eyes flicking to the list she was given.

"She eats at 12?"

"Usually. There is a lunch box in her backpack, just start with the stuff labeled 1 and 2, then keep feeding her until she refuses. Usually she'll eat all the food offered, but if she doesn't want it, don't force it. Don't let her sleep if she gets tired because she naps at around 2 which is when we'll get home and I don't want to mess up the schedule."

The blonde nodded as Mapi looked her up and down, clearly judging whether she was good enough to look after her precious child. 

She hesitated. 

"Have you ever been arrested?"

The girl, maybe 18 years old, looked at her in confusion.

"No?"

"Where you a high school bully? Homophobic? Racist? Anything?"

She shook her head. 

"No, no. The club hired me, I have all my qualifications and plenty of experience. I had to go through two interviews for this. I'm from the preschool just up the road, we volunteered and then had to go through a long process to be hired by this club. I promise, I'm a good person."

Mapi nodded, still seemingly unconvinced. 

"This baby is everything to me. Ok? If a single hair on her head is missing or harmed, I know where to come looking."

She held the baby tight, not wanting to let go and the girl's eyes widened, cracking her knuckles out of anxiety. 

"Mapi!" 

Both Mapi and the babysitter's heads whipped towards the door, Alexia striding in and standing beside her shorter friend. 

"Leave her alone!" She shook her head, before looking towards the girl in front of her and sticking out her hand. "Alexia. What's your name?"

"Camila. Nice to meet you." She smiled uneasily, still hyperaware of Mapi's judgemental eye despite Alexia's sharp words and nudge in the side. 

"Nice to meet you too, Camila." She turned back to Mapi. "It's time to say goodbye to the pequena and go over to training. Jonatan just asked if you were actually coming back today or if he misheard because you're late. Don't restart that trend of being late every day, please." Alexia's was balancing on a fine line between desperation and leadership, Mapi well aware that she was trying her best to not be completely overbearing and bossy. 

Mapi rolled her eyes, taking one last glance at the increasingly more nervous babysitter in front of her before looking back down at the clueless baby in her arms. She planted soft kisses all over her head, trying to avoid the tears from springing to her eyes. 

"Ok, my Is. Mami loves you so much and I'll see you so soon. Be good for Camila for me, yeah?"

The baby smiled excitedly, clapping her hands. 

"Mami!" 

She wrapped her arms around Mapi's neck, planting a sloppy kiss on her cheek and patting it once she had moved away. 

"I love you, Mami."

"I love you too, Is."

She blinked away the tears as she passed the small child over into the arms of the stranger, trying to ignore the look of confusion that crossed her daughter's face as she handed Camila the backpack. 

"Mami? Where go?"

"I'll see you very soon, my love." She struggled to look at her daughter as she spoke, worried that she would burst into tears and prevent her mother from leaving. 

The centre back kissed the crown of Isabel's head as the emotions washed over her, promising she would be back soon and that everything would be ok. Isabel seemed to understand well enough, looking up at Camila with curiosity, poking at her face with her chubby fingers. 

"Everything will be ok, Mapi. I promise."

Mapi nodded at her babysitter, leaning into the comforting arm that Alexia had placed gently over her shoulder. 

"Thank you, Camila." Alexia spoke for Mapi, sensing her friend's emotions. "We'll see you in a couple of hours."

It was only when they left the room that Mapi allowed a single tear to slip down her face, quickly brushing it away to try and hide that she had become so emotional. 

"It is stupid." She shook her head, looking away from Alexia. 

The midfielder was quiet for a few seconds, trying to decide the best way to deal with this unfamiliar and uncomfortable situation. 

"It is not stupid. She is your daughter, you are worried, this has never happened before. It is normal to feel this way."

Mapi shook her head, sighing softly.

"I have never had a babysitter for her before. You are the only person who has ever taken care of her without me there."

Her voice broke at the admission and she finally turned to make eye contact with Alexia. 

"What if she hates it? What if she needs me and I'm not there for her?"

The midfielder didn't respond, almost certain that Mapi wasn't done talking; that these were rhetorical questions. 

"What if it doesn't work out and she needs me for the rest of her life? What if I can never come back to football?"

Alexia sighed softly, Mapi's voice fading out a clear indicator that she was finished. 

"Maria, you can't worry about things that haven't happened yet. You will figure everything out, I will help you." She lead the centre back towards a seat, subtly texting Jonatan that they'd be a few extra minutes late. "Isabel is a good girl. She will be good for Camila and she will be happy to see you in a couple of hours. And if not, we can figure something else out, we can find a new babysitter, we can think of something else."

The centre back used the heel of her hands to rub at her eyes aggressively, sighing and leaning into Alexia's embrace. 

"I just worry that I'm not doing everything right for her. I want it all to be perfect because if Luis was here, her life would be more than perfect. He would have been such a good dad, and I can't even give her that."

The brunette observed Mapi carefully, using her thumb to gently wipe away the few lone tears that remained beneath her eyes. It was a topic that had come up often, Mapi's insecurities in comparison to her friend, but it was a topic that Alexia still struggled to talk her friend out of. 

Because of course Mapi is a great mother, but Luis would have been a great father too. Mapi knows that more than anyone so Alexia can't just say that they will never know if it's true or not. 

It would be an insult to Luis' memory. 

"Just because you don't have that picture perfect family does not mean you are doing anything wrong, it doesn't mean you're a bad parent. Isabel is happy, she is smart and she loves you. It's all you need. And yes, Luis would have been a great father but there is a reason that he trusted you to have her. Biologically, Mapi, she is yours. Luis wouldn't have agreed to spending all that money if he thought you were a terrible person with bad morals, bad decision making and not a maternal bone in your body. You just have to believe he would have trusted you with her life. Everyone else does, it is just you that struggles to comprehend it."

Mapi was silent but Alexia hadn't expected a response. Maybe in a few days when she had time to think about the midfielder's words, which Alexia was sure she would; she always did. But they were so meaningful - her words, too meaningful to be able to come up with something to say right on the spot. 

"Thank you, Alexia." 

~~~~~~

Surprisingly, training went well. It took five minutes and a splash of water to the face for Mapi to face the team in the gym, but it took less than 10 minutes for her to forget about all her issues once she started training. 

The gym work was stuff she had been doing for a year alone, but as soon as they headed outside and started playing, Mapi realised how much she had actually missed the sport. It was a part of her, she realised, and maybe she had been so down because she had been missing it for so long. 

She was practically flying up and down the field, blocking shots, dominating rondos and shooting free kicks far out of the box. 

It was like she was on a high, nothing would bring her down; nothing could slow her down. 

And Mapi couldn't have been happier. 

Alexia watched with pride as she slowly reverted back to the person she once was, boisterous, excited, happy. She was becoming the person that the midfielder had missed for almost a year and a half; the person she knew before her life was flipped upside down and shattered into a million pieces. 

The person that Alexia had prayed every night to see again. 

She hadn't lost any skill either, still the fierce defender who would put her body on the line if it meant preventing a goal and the entire team was shocked. Excited, maybe, to have one of their best players back after a slightly disappointing season. It definitely wasn't a secret that they had missed their key centre back. 

Mapi was thrilled. Excited, over the moon. She couldn't believe how good just one session with the team made her feel, the complete antithesis of how she was feeling when she broke down to Alexia, in doubt of everything she had done over the past 14 months. It felt like the beginning of her life falling back into place and she almost drunk with happiness and pride as she sauntered back into the changing rooms. 

She was the last one in, chatting away to one of the technical analysts about something entirely unrelated to football, so she was expecting a half empty changing room, most people heading out quickly or showering after the somewhat gruelling session. 

What she didn't expect was for everyone to be standing and waiting for her, beginning to chant her name as she entered. 

The tears that sprung to her eyes were happy this time, finally feeling like she was out of the long and dark tunnel, lost and confused with not a clue how she was going to get out. 

But like most tunnels, the way out was right in front of her. So obvious but so frustratingly challenging to reach, such a long journey required to get there. 

"Calma, calma!" She laughed as tears filled her eyes, a single pair of arms pulling her into a hug that was quickly joined by the rest of the team. "Vale. I love you all so much."

"Ah Maria gone soft!" Leila's teasing voice was easily distinguishable over the rest of the cheering and Mapi could only slap her lightly on the side as the hug dissipated. "I am joking, Mapi, of course I am." 

Leila smiled too and it was then that Mapi noticed her glistening eyes, and when she looked around the room, she noticed the same thing in a lot of her long-term teammates. 

"It is a family, Maria. Everyone is right there waiting for you to let them in."

"Everyone is there for you, Mapi. They love you."

"They were all so proud of you when they came yesterday, they can't wait for you to come back."

"They asked about you over the weekend, they want to know how you are doing."

"They want to meet Isabel, but they're worried that she's so small that they'll hurt her accidentally. They said they really wanted to visit you though, so long as I hold the baby."

Everything that Alexia had said to her about her teammates rushed through Mapi like a warm stream, emotions floating through the gushing water until Mapi was a crying mess in her cubby, completely aware of where the sudden emotion had come from. 

Because the midfielder was right, they were a family and Mapi did have their support. Even though she asked them to stay away, even though she ignored them for months. 

They were still there for her and the centre back knew that she would be there for any one of them if the roles were ever reversed. 

Because they are a family and the love each other like sisters.  

Alexia's arm was around her again, the familiarity a fire blanket on the emotions that were blazing through her. 

"Are you ok, Mapi?" The midfielder knew the answer to her question before she even had to ask it, but blinked away her own tears as she watched her friend fall apart. 

She wasn't used to an overload of emotions when it came to Mapi, usually just experiencing her naturally upbeat nature. She was never much of a crier, usually going numb immediately at any tragic or disappointing news, hiding her emotions to anyone around her and only breaking after she was sure she was completely alone. 

She still was like that, but with Alexia it's different. Alexia is her best friend and has seen her through so many highs and lows of life that she is entirely familiar with Mapi's sporadic emotions. 

Her tears in the locker room were not expected, but they did not come as a surprise to Alexia. Because the past months, full of challenges, of sadness and grief have lead up to this moment of pure and unbridled joy, something the midfielder had been desperate to witness for so, so long. 

There are of course be hiccups, bumps in the road and dips on the rollercoaster still to come. It still would not be an easy road for the centre back.

But for now, she was on a high and that was all that mattered. 

She had found herself again, out there on the field, right where she belongs. 

"I am just so happy, Ale."

~~~~~~

"Isabel!" The small toddler's head whipped up to the door, spotting her godmother at the door, beaming as the midfielder strode towards her. 

"Mi Ale!" She stood up from where she was sitting, waddling towards Alexia and wrapping her arms around her legs until the brunette reached down and picked her up, balancing her easily on her hip. 

"How was she?" Alexia's attention was on Camila briefly, as the blonde stood up, a sheepish smile on her face at being caught doing role play with a toddler. 

"Good!" The blonde nodded, only continuing at Alexia's silent request. "She was very well-behaved. We did some drawing, we played with toys, we played with blocks. She ate all the food she was offered and I think she is almost ready for a nap."

Alexia nodded, her attention back on Isabel. 

"You had a good day, Is?"

She nodded giddily. 

"Camila says I can come back again soon!"

"I'm sure you will." Alexia looked back up at the blonde who held out the small backpack. "Thank you, Camila. Mapi will be very grateful."

"It's no problem. She's an absolute pleasure."

Alexia smiled, telling the baby to wave goodbye and watching as she did so, before walking back out the door and towards the locker rooms. 

"Where Mami?'

"We're going to see Mami now."

Isabel babbled away incoherently as they wandered through the facility until she spotted her mother in the locker room, excitedly poking at Alexia and gaining Mapi's attention. 

"Mami! Mami!" 

Mapi's head whipped up and her face dissolved into a smile, standing up and striding towards her daughter, easily plucking her from Alexia's arms. 

"Hello my Is! I have missed you." She placed a soft kiss on the crown of her head as the child wrapped her arms around Mapi's neck. 

"Mami!" 

Mapi chuckled at her daughter's inability to say much else, instead just holding her close, grabbing her own bag and the small backpack from Alexia and heading out to her car, the midfielder close behind. 

"So I assume you're coming back tomorrow?"

Mapi looked at her friend like she was stupid, a soft smirk on her face as she finished strapping Isabel into her seat. 

"Of course I am. I'm back, Alexia. I think for good."

"I'm proud of you." She stood awkwardly, leaning on the side of the car, watching the blonde fuss over her daughter. 

"I wouldn't be here without you." It was clear that Mapi was becoming emotional again and was trying desperately to not let herself fall apart again. 

Alexia could see that, so she didn't do anything else or say anything else. Mapi was happy and that was all that mattered in that moment. 

"Drive safe."

Mapi looked at her again, the same look of amusement at her friend's statement. 

"I always do."

Alexia rolled her eyes, waving goodbye and walking over to her own car, her eyes still on Mapi as she got in. She was emotional herself after the training session, finally realising that her friend was slowly coming back to her. 

It was after Mapi had driven away and Alexia was sure that she wouldn't be seen that she allowed the tears to fall freely. 

It was relief, really. She was relieved that Mapi and Isabel really were going to be ok.

~~~~~~

Isabel was asleep in the back of the car by the time they arrived back home, and Mapi was able to carry her upstairs and into her cot without her stirring at all. 

It was only after she had finished up with some household chores that the baby monitor went off, soft garbling coming from the nursery.

"Hello there Is!" She cooed at the groggy toddler, lifting her up out of the cot and rocking her gently. 

She quickly ate the snacks she was offered, still sleepy when Mapi placed her into the stroller and headed outside and downstairs for their afternoon walk. 

"Where do you want to go today, Is?"

The toddler looked up when she heard her name, shifting from her comfortable position, arms wrapped around her lion toy. 

"Leon! Mi Leon." She held it up to Mapi and roared quietly, laughing at herself when Mapi smiled down to her. 

"Your lion." The mother confirmed, leaving the lift and walking through the foyer of her apartment. 

They were walking out when she heard someone calling her name, turning around quickly to see the pretty new signing, Ingrid Engen, walking towards her and leaving two large suitcases behind. 

"Ingrid?"

"Do you live here?" The Norwegian was smiling as she spoke, although Mapi could hardly tell whether she was actually smiling or if her face was permanently set in the positive expression. 

"Yeah. We live on the 6th floor." Mapi nodded, smiling but avoiding eye contact with the gorgeous brunette. "Do you?"

"I'm moving in today. 4th floor."

Mapi's heart had been steadily increasing ever since she heard her name, but at those words she thought it may stop right then. 

"We're just heading out on a walk, if you wanted to come."

The Spaniard didn't know why she was asking, but the words just came out. She could feel her face flushing as she spoke but the Norwegian just made her feel so unbelievably nervous. 

Ingrid looked down at her bags, then back up at Mapi. She blushed, smiling sheepishly. 

"I would love to. I'll just run these upstairs if that's alright?"

Mapi nodded, moving towards the seating on the right to sit down and wait, her head in her hands as she went through all the reasons why this was a bad idea. 

She didn't even know Ingrid, yet the midfielder made her feel a type of way that she hadn't felt in a very long time. She seemed so calm and so kind, someone that Mapi so desperately needed, yet refused to admit it. 

Because she didn't have time to be a girlfriend. She was a mother first, then a footballer. Having a partner just wasn't an option, not when she was so busy with her current occupations, not when she already felt so guilty for handing her child off to a babysitter every time she needed to do her job. 

She looked up at the sound of the elevator arriving, standing up when she saw Ingrid and pushing her pram over towards the door. 

"So, congratulations, Mapi!" The Norwegian beamed and the Spaniard looked at her in confusion which prompted her to elaborate. "Today... you had your first session back since Isabel. That's what the others said, why they were all so excited."

"Oh. Yeah." Mapi grimaced. It wasn't something she was particularly happy about, considering she gave birth over 14 months ago and only just went back to team training. "I'm glad to be back, I definitely missed it."

"I can imagine." Ingrid smiled as they crossed the street, the setting sunlight catching her eyes and causing them to sparkle, something that didn't go unnoticed by the Spaniard. "It can't have been easy."

Not wanting to get into that now with someone she barely knew, Mapi changed the subject with ease.

"Where do you want to go? We usually just go down to the park and have a bit of a play there, but we can go somewhere better if you'd like?" 

Ingrid shook her head.

"We can go to your park today and then somewhere else another day! I'm sure that your daughter wouldn't appreciate someone coming in and changing her routine." The Norwegian continued to smile, and Mapi became more and more sure that her face was always set in that grin.

She chuckled lightly at Ingrid's words, shaking her head. 

"She wouldn't care in the slightest. As long as she has somewhere to run and play with her lion, she's happy."

"She's adorable."

Mapi knew. She knew she had a cute kid, one that people in the supermarkets would rush over to coo at. But her kid was so much more than that because she was smart and she was so loving. She had an excited personality and was full of so much joy that Mapi would wonder where it was all coming from.

She loved her child from the moment she was placed in her arms, but the excited and joyful person that Mapi was known as had been lost since her friends were killed in that car accident.

Isabel reminded Mapi so much of her old self, but she didn't know where it could have come from. The baby’s joy and excitement about the world was the complete antithesis of Mapi's overwhelming grief, fear and confusion. 

And she knew that if it wasn't for the small baby that she loved more than anything else in this world, she probably wouldn't have made it through the death of Luis. Definitely not. 

But Mapi didn't tell Ingrid all that, instead just nodding in silent agreement. 

"She's a good girl. She's good for her Mami." The Spaniard looked down at the small toddler whose eyes were slowly drifting again. "She's always sleepy after her nap, then she'll be wide awake for a while at the park and usually will fall asleep on the way home. I'll wake her up when we get back, we'll eat dinner and then she likes to cuddle after dinner and that's when she'll fall asleep for the night and I put her down."

Ingrid laughed quietly. 

"Very established routine?"

Mapi blushed furiously, smiling with a sheepish expression. 

"The baby books all said routine was good. We fell into one and it's easy. She's easy. You know I took her to my paediatrician when she was 5 months old because she never cried?" Mapi laughed quietly. "I was so worried and searched up why and it was so scary that I took her."

Ingrid laughed alongside the Spaniard. 

"What did your doctor say?"

"She said that Isabel's happy, that I'm doing a good job and that I should never use google to find out what's wrong with her." She scoffed. "That’s why I had to start reading things up in the baby books!"

Their laughter dissolved into easy conversation as Mapi lead them down the street, letting Ingrid do most of the talking, listening intently as she raved about her home, her family. She told Mapi that Norway was filled with countless fjords and mountains, lakes and rivers that gave the country soul, spirit and wonder. She said it was a hidden gem, the most beautiful thing in the world. 

But Mapi disagreed, because how could anything be more beautiful than the girl that was stood beside her. Her eyes widened as the thought flashed through her mind, instantly averting eye contact and subtly shaking her head at herself.

She was like a 12 year old on her first date with their crush, and she cringed at the painful awkwardness that she made up in her head.

Ingrid listened as Mapi spoke about her home, back in Zaragoza where her parents and brother still lived, the Norwegian enthusiastic about visiting the Spanish city and immersing herself in the new culture.

Mapi listened as Ingrid complained about missing her cat and dog at home, and the Spaniard told her that she could meet Bagheera as a temporary substitute. 

It was easy for both of them, despite the language differences. Light conversation fell lightly in English, google translate only proving useful a handful of times, though Mapi emphasised that Isabel could barely understand her first language, let alone English.

The sun was well and truly setting as they arrived at the park, Mapi laying out the rug and pulling her daughter from the pram right under one of the street lights that would prove useful in half an hour. 

"Mami!" The girl squealed when her mother's face was finally in front of her, her eyes lighting up as she was placed on her feet, Mapi crossing her legs and sitting down beside her. 

"Is, you remember Ingrid from yesterday?"

The baby nodded shyly, moving back towards her mothers arms, nudging her face into the crook of Mapi's neck. 

"Don't be nervous, my lion cub! Remember, we are brave at heart."

"Lions, Mami." Slowly, her face peeked out from it's hiding spot, waving and smiling shyly at the Norwegian who waved back, a soft smile on her face. 

She slowly moved towards Ingrid, holding out her lion toy and making a lion noise. 

"She wants you to copy her." The Norwegian smiled at Mapi who had supplied the useful information, roaring softly at the small girl who giggled loudly and pulled the lion toy back into her arms. 

"soy leon!"  Ingrid couldn't understand Spanish, but somehow she knew what the toddler was implying, nodding happily as Isabel continued to babble in incoherent Spanish, entertaining herself by rushing between the two footballers who sat on opposite sides of the mat. 

The distance became shorter and shorter, however, as the two footballers inched ever so slowly towards each other, their voices softening as the sky became darker and the space between them smaller. 

The curly haired toddler fell exhaustedly into her mothers arms, dropping her lion beside her and cuddling up towards her mothers neck, successfully ending the ongoing conversation between the two adults. 

"You are tired, mi amor?"

Instead of answering, she yawned loudly from her comfortable spot in Mapi's arms, Ingrid laughing softly at her tired face. 

"I think it's time to head home for some dinner, if that's alright?" Mapi shifted nervously as she stood up, unsure if she should offer her hand to help Ingrid also. 

Luckily for her and her decision making, the Norwegian stood up and picked up the blanket before Mapi had finished her internal debate. 

"Of course!" Ingrid flushed crimson, her mind and body brought right back down to Earth, the floating feeling slowly evaporating as she folded up the blanket, an uncomfortable silence falling over the duo. 

Mapi was right in her prediction that Isabel would fall asleep as they walked home, and Ingrid laughed as she noticed that the girl had passed out almost instantly when she was placed down in the pram, tucked into a blanket and hidden away from the rest of the world with a scarf that Mapi used as a makeshift curtain. 

The walk home went quickly and the trio were back in the brightness of the apartment complex before they knew it. 

"Thank you for taking me with you this evening." Ingrid smiled gratefully, pulling Mapi into a soft hug. 

The Spaniard tried to stop herself from melting into those strong arms, but she was rendered speechless, her heart rate sky rocketing and her eyes closing. 

She regained her vocal abilities once the hug broke, clearing her throat awkwardly and averting her eyes. Those green eyes were too much for the Spaniard, they made her palms sweaty and her heart beat too fast for her liking, so she resolved to just not look at them. 

"It's no problem. Thank you for keeping me company. It was nice to talk to someone whose entire vocabulary isn't just limited to 'Mami' and 'lion'."

Ingrid laughed, and Mapi realised again that the sound of her laugh had the same effect on her as those sparkling eyes. 

As they said goodnight and retreated to their own rooms, Mapi also realised she was well and truly fucked. 

Because she couldn't date, there was no time. 

But she had fallen for the Norwegian, hard and fast, and she didn't think there was much she could do about it. 

"Your Mami is so silly, Isabel!"

~~~~~~

yay finished

I haven’t done much romantic writing so I’m worried that this will be painful for everyone to read (like it was for me) but let me know what you think!

if you have any requests please let me know, i will either add them in or write something about them at some other point (i have seen the ones that have been sent in and i will be writing them, just have to go through planning stages first)

i also was inspired from the olympics and have written a blurb of isabel as a teen competing in a sport (5 cents to anyone who can guess which sport) so please let me know if you'd be interested in reading it hahahah

and also let me know if you see any mistakes because i edited this all in one go and was too lazy to do a final read :)

(in summary, let me know)

have a nice day x

[m-musings]

Crawl Out Through the Fallout with Me: Cooper "The Ghoul" Howard X Fem! Reader

A/N: never played an official fallout game in my life but i still love this man so it's time to bullshit some stuff, let's gooooooo

Word Count: 1.1k

Summary: After a fight with raiders, a argument between lovers ensues when one of them gets hurt.

Warnings: typical fallout vibes, mentions of fighting, blood and wounds, pre-established relationship, Cooper being Cooper but also being a bit ooc, this is cheesy as hell and def not canon compliant lmao

"Damnit, (Y/n), just what the hell were you thinkin'?!"

An upset voice rang out into the evening air of the Wasteland as a pair of figures rested up inside the crumbling walls of an abandoned building.

Lit by the fading light of the sun, (Y/n) hissed in pain as her irradiated companion tried to sew a sizable gunshot wound on her arm shut.

As he passed the needle back and forth through the gash, the girl rolled her eyes with an exasperated groan as a few rivulets of blood rolled down her arm.

"Gimme a break, Coop! Did you wanna be the one to be shot?! I don't- ow!- think so!"

During a journey to find their next cash-out, the partners were ambushed by a large group of raiders & fiends. After managing to get rid of most of them, one had managed to sneak up and send a bullet flying straight for Cooper.

Noticing the weapon before Cooper could even turn to see the shooter, (Y/n) dashed over and shoved the ghoul out of the path of the shot, causing her arm to be hit instead.

Now- a few hours after killing the remaining enemies- they took shelter in a decrepit shack in order to patch themselves up in peace and rest for the night.

"I'd still be better off than you are right now. I mean, for fucks sake, darlin', I'm a ghoul. I've been through worse than just being shot at."

"Well then, that's the last time I try to be helpful. Next time, I'll sit back and relax while you get absolutely slaughtered by raiders, how about that?!"

"Go right on ahead, see if I care! Now, hold still. Can't close this cut if you keep on squirmin' around." Cooper huffed as he gave the suture one final tug before snipping the end off with a pocket knife and tying it into a knot.

After he was finished, (Y/n) rolled the pain out of her bicep before reaching into her bag to grab a somewhat clean cloth to wipe up any remaining blood.

With a sputter of her lips, she got up from her spot next to Cooper to sit upon the old mattress in the other corner of the room in order to apply a stimpak to herself. It wouldn't be enough to heal the wound completely but it would be enough for her to be able to use her arm properly.

Satisfied with the sight of her flesh knitting back together, Cooper finally relaxed in his chair as he crossed one leg over the other.

"Now don't go doin' anything that stupid again, y' hear me? Don't wanna have to use any more stims than we have to."

"I just... don't understand why you're so worked up about this. Something like this was bound to happen eventually, it's literally a warzone out here. A scar or two isn't unusual." (Y/n) griped as she fell back onto the bed while crossing her arms.

"Yeah, for someone like me it isn't. But it shouldn't ever happen someone like you. You shouldn't have to get hurt like that..." Grumbled Cooper as he leaned back against the wall.

"I'm not made of glass, Coop, I can handle a few hits."

"Don't care. You're way too valuable for me to lose."

(Y/n)'s glare softened at that, realizing the true intention behind the cowboy's scolding was worry. As Cooper sets up a small lantern on the floor to combat the growing darkness, (Y/n) watches the man with a fondness gleaming in her eyes.

"Is that what this is all about? You didn't wanna see me get hurt?" Whispers the girl as she turns onto her side.

Although the action is rather subtle, the ghoul's body visibly tenses up as he fixes his gaze away from the woman across from him.

"I never said that."

"It's clear that you thought it, though." (Y/n) chuckled as she softly grinned at the cowboy.

Heaving out an irritated sigh, Cooper hunches over to look at her as he readjusts his hat.

"What do ya wanna hear from me, sweetheart? That I care about you? That I love ya? Well, if you don't know that by now, then you might be much dumber than I thought you were."

"Hey, I resent that! You'd be lost with me and you know it!"

"Sure I would. Just like how you'd do great out there if you were all alone."

(Y/n) shakes her head with a scoff before she gets up from the mattress to walk over plop herself onto Cooper's lap after he sits back down on the beat-up dinner chair.

As she shuffles into place, Cooper places his hand on the small of her back to ensure she doesn't topple over. He silently glances at her face, analyzing her now troubled expression as she fiddles with the lapel on his duster.

Mouth opening and closing as she tries to find the words to say, she presses her lips together before finally speaking her thoughts.

"Y'know, I worry about you too... I'm always so worried that there's gonna be a day where that one gunner you miss is gonna be the one that gets you." (Y/n) admits sadly as she rests her head on Cooper's shoulder.

Cooper's eyes widen slightly and peer down at her as he begins to rub a hand up and down her arm in an attempt to comfort her.

"Hey now, look at me. That'll never happen. Not on my watch."

"What makes you so sure?"

"I got too much to fight for. I already lost one family to this nonsense and I'll be damned if you get taken away from me too. I'll fight tooth and nail before I let anything touch me or you again, understand?"

"But why? What's so special about me?"

"If I allow you to get hurt anymore, I will never be able to live with myself again. I love you, so...so much, darlin'." Cooper states with a resolute nod.

(Y/n) eyes water and crinkle with a gentle smile before she leans up to place a couple light kisses upon his charred lips, which he returns immediately upon receiving.

"I love you too, Cooper..." Mutters (Y/n) as she closes her arm around his shoulders.

With a laugh rumbling in his chest, Cooper wraps both of his hands around her waist as he holds her as close as he can.

"Your sweetness is what's gonna be the death of me one of these days, doll... Not some dumbass bullet." Cooper jokes quietly, placing a kiss atop her hair & resting his head on hers as he rocks back and forth to lull her to sleep.

Listening to the calming sound of her breathing as she slumbers, Cooper thinks about how lucky a man like him is to have found a love like (Y/n) in such a desolate situation.

[petew21-blog]

Workout routine

My best friend from school, Emily, married last summer while still being at university with me. She is still young, but claimed that her boyfriend truly loves her. Bullshit if you ask me, he never respected here and treated here like a trophy wife since the beginning. Yeah I hated him. He was a homophobic asshole and acting like some fuckin' alpha male. Why Emily dated him I never understood

One day we were on their garden studying for an upcoming exam. I was nervous most of the time cause James was working outside fixing stuff and eyed me like a prey. Emily went to get us some snacks and drinks.

He came up to me and started some homophobic talk how I could choose this path of sin and so on. I couldn't look up at him. Cause he was very close to me, very shritless and VERY sexy. Way too much. If I looked up even for a second, I would immediately get hard.

"You gays are the worst thing about this generation. You can't even work, y'all do your artsy useless shit and nothing usefull"

"Can you just let me live and go on about your life? I don't want to listen to this."

"Well you're on my property so you'll listen to whatever I have to tell you"

A call from inside the house. Emilly called him

"You're lucky. If it weren't for her you'd be already on the ground biting dust"

What an idiot. I was raging. I think I'll just leave and go home. I can't calm myself down and I don't want to cause any drama with Emily. Even if I think her husband is horrible, I don't want ot loose her a s a friend"

Emily came out of the house, smiling. She brought the snacks and water. She looked at me "Sorry for... taking so long. I had to sort something that couldn't wait. Now drink up, you haven't drank for hours. I should have brought drinks sooner."

I took the glass and took a sip. But then I felt really nauseaous. My vision was blurry now and I felt like vomiting. All I could make out of Emily's face was that she was smiling.

Then my vision started getting clearer again. But it was strange, I wasn't outside anymore. I was in their kitchen, holding a glass. "How did I get here?" went through in my head. As I looked for the nearest surface to put down the glass I noticed that I was shirtless.

Wait, what?!? This isn't my body!!!

I let go off the glass destroying it. But nothing could have prepared me for being this ripped in the matter of seconds. This is something I always wished for, but never thought I would get. I was always the skinny twink trying to build more muscles, but couldn't. And now, I have massive muscles.

I found a mirror in the hall. No, this can't be happening. I am James. I can't be him. He is an asshole. A homophobic asshole.

But his body thought otherwise. His dick got hard. And it isn't small. Which might be cool to play with, but now I was still angry everytime I looked at the mirror.

"Enjoying yourself?" Emily asked as she entered the house

"What have you done, Ems?"

"I gave you a new body. The one you have been lusting for. And as a side effect I got myself an improvement for a boyfriend. I loved him before, but I was blind and deaf to all the things he said on your account and to all the things he commented about me. Never appreciated me. But you are the best man I ever knew. And I wanted to be with you even if I wasn't your type. But now, I think I might be" she said as she placed her hand on my new crotch.

I thought I wouldn't like this, cause I was gay for my entire life, but James's body is still straight. But in my mind I could even picture myself with a dude and not be disgusted

"Ems, I think you didn't turn me straight as you wished for. I think I'm bi, actually"

"Whatever is best for both of us. I got a cute gay friend who you might like and who would love to explore your body, with me. But I think there might be some emotions involved, you know. Cause of the previous ownership and so on." she said and laughed out loud.

I took her up and put her on the kitchen table. Embracing her and going for a kiss.

"Ems, you are the best friend I could have ever wanted. I love you and I will love you now as your husband"

We could hear a scream outside coming from the garden. We could only smile at each other as we knew what was coming

Two months later:

"Hey, my name is James and this is my colleague Robert. Robert is a small gay dude friend from my wife. We are going on a road trip to get to know each other better with the permission from my wife. So we would like a room"

"Oh, there's only double bed? That's absolutely fine with us, right Robert? Bro's will be bro's and NO HOMO. Hahaha"

A story request from Inbox: Could you do a swap with a Twink and his best friend’s bodybuilder husband?

[bagerfluff]

Little Attention Whore

Sub/Bottom Casper x Top/Dom Male Reader

Prompt - Cock Warming

Warnings - Cock warming, praise, rough sex, unprotected sex, slight degradation, anal sex

AN: If you want to get straight to the smut go past the caution tape

Casper glared at you.

You were sitting at your desk while Casper was on your bed. You two were just hanging out, cuddling to be more specific, when you got a call from your boss.

You had to take it, you said.

It was important and the bills didn't pay themselves. Casper was furious about it. It was your day off! You had promised that you would spend some time with Casper since you’ve been working so hard.

Now Casper was left on your bed with only Azrael and your pet to keep him comfortable, not that they didn’t do a good job at that. It’s just that Casper wanted his boyfriend.

It had been an hour, and you still weren't done with the call. Casper wanted your attention back, he liked it. Casper smirked as an idea popped into his head.

Casper got off the bed without you noticing and walked up behind you. You glanced at Casper before looking away and out your window.

Casper reached a hand forward and pulled your shirt down, causing you to look at him with curiosity in your eyes. Casper leaned down and kissed the nape of your neck.

Casper could feel you shiver under his lips but you did nothing. Casper continued kissing the nape of your neck before moving to your shoulder.

Casper started light nipping your shoulder.

From right to left he nipped it and licked it. You shivered under him and you felt your dick grow hard at his actions.

You ignored it and Casper, trying to focus on the call but that was getting harder as Casper got more desperate in his actions.

Casper bit, licked, nipped, and kissed your neck. Both shoulders were played with, slowly hickeys covered your shoulders.

They weren’t the best, not deep enough in color to be seen from a distance and could probably be pulled off as burns. You however, didn’t like it.

“Sorry, can you give me a minute, my pet needs me”, you said. You took the phone away from your ear and pressed the mute button so your boss couldn’t hear you without waiting for an answer.

You turned your chair around to glare at Casper. Casper just smiled innocently, “what?” He asked with a smirk on his face. “What was that for”, you asked, your hand reaching up to touch your shoulders.

“I wanted attention, and I got it”, Casper said with a slight blush. You smiled, even though it had been months, Casper still blushed around you.

You smiled, “so you wanted attention. I can give you that”, you said with a smirk. Casper keeps his appearance up, but he was a little worried. He could see your boner in your pants.

But Casper kept up the smirk, not knowing what would happen.

Casper let out a strangled moan.

You just smirked at Casper while trailing your hand up and down his body. Paying extra attention to the hard nipples on his chest. Hickeys littered Casper’s body.

Chest, shoulder, neck, anywhere you could reach. “F-fuck~”, Casper moaned as he tried to move his hips. Your hand quickly shot down to his waist, keeping him still.

Casper groaned, “f-fuck~ me damn i-it!” Casper yelled, his dick hurt. Casper had been sitting on your cock while you continued the call with your boss.

He had been a brat, now he was reaping what he sowed.

Your dick was just resting in Casper’s ass and he hated it. Every time Casper moved a little your dick brushed against his prostate, causing Casper to moan and try to move.

But you didn’t let him, this was his punishment.

He had to cock warm you till you were satisfied. “You wanted this, you wanted my attention”, you whispered in Casper’s ear. Casper groaned, his ass clenching around your dick.

You groaned, Casper’s ass felt amazing and you wanted nothing more than you thrust into him at a rapid pace. “Just a few more minutes”, you whispered before going back to your call.

Casper groaned again, you said that forty five minutes ago.

“M-move damn, N-nine Hells”, Casper said. You tilted your head, “beg”, you said. Casper looked you in the eyes. Casper thought for a moment before lust over took his brain, “p-please, f-fuck me”, Casper stuttered.

Casper continued to beg, he was begging so hard he didn’t even realize that you had put your phone away. The call had ended ten minutes ago. “Okay, anything for my baby girl, you said.

You grabbed Casper waist with your hands and picked him up, slamming him back down. Hitting his prostate dead on. Casper moaned at the sudden thrust, not getting time to get used to it as you continued your hard thrusts.

“Ah~ ah~ ah~”, Casper moaned, his arms wrapping around your neck. “M-more, please~”, Casper moaned, finally the pain in his dick subsided. You groaned in his ear, “okay, pretty boy”, you groaned.

Thrusting your hips up as well as moving Casper up and down. Casper felt his orgasm getting closer, his walls clenching around your dick.

You groaned as you felt Casper get tighter, thrusting harder to get your orgasm “AAHHAHH~”, Casper moaned loudly as he finally came. Cum spurted out of Casper’s dick and onto your and his chest, ruining his shirt.

“Nnggeee~, ahaah, yefs~ y-yes”, Casper moan and you groaned as you came inside Casper. Casper leaned forward and laid his head on your shoulder.

Looking at the hickeys on your shoulder. You smiled and ran your hand up and down his back. Your dick sat inside Casper as cum leaked out of his ass.

“My little attention whore”, you said lovingly.

Casper blushed at your praise and slight degradation. Finally, Casper got what he wanted. All of your attention, even is he had to be fucked for it.

Casper would do it again.