#I got a walking pad for Christmas

[mzcain27]

Should go for a stupid little walk but it’s so BORING

[pissywiser]

pulled an unconsenting all nighter , itd 10 am im feeling bright hapy cheerfula and most of all i am eepy. and i had a oone (1) cup of tea . (i need a shit )

[peachesofteal]

Light On - single mom/neighbors fic Simon Riley/female reader 🎄 @glitterypirateduck’s December challenge: O Christmas Tree

"What about this one?"

You're standing next to a giant tree, one that's probably double your height. "It's a little big but-"

"I don't know if that will fit in your flat, sweetheart." You huff, hands on your hips, and Emmaline wiggles where she's snuggled against him, tucked up on his chest inside his arms. You've got her in some sort of snow suit, like a baby marshmallow, capped with a red knit hat that ties under chin to keep the ear flaps down, and even though she clearly hates it, and looks a little ridiculous, he knows the whole thing is keeping her warm in tonight's frigid weather.

"Okay. What about this one?" The one you're pointing to now is smaller, but sparse, a little prickly looking. He shakes his head. "You don't like any of them!" You protest, and Emma grunts, babbling some sort of nonsense.

"'m just doing what the boss here is telling me to do." She looks up at him, eyes bright with a little bit of snot beneath her nose, and he wipes it away with his thumb. "There you go, baby girl. I gotcha."

"She's not the boss." You step close with a shiver, close enough that he can see the fog of your breath, peek of your neck beneath your scarf, and he reaches out to pad his fingertips across your chilled cheek.

"Cold?" You shrug.

"A little." You dip forward to give Emma a quick kiss on the cheek, and at the same time, he ducks down, pressing his lips to the crown of your head. He's never going to get used to this. Never. Even now, in this moment, he can't believe he's walking a tree lot with you, debating which one to choose. Him. Simon Ghost Riley, picking out a Yule tree with you and the baby. His family.

There's a bang in the street. A car backfiring, probably, but it's enough that it startles someone else on the lot, and they shout, the combination like a shot of adrenaline to his heart, focus and intensity taking over, his movements shifting to autopilot. His hand covers Emma's head, curling forward at the same as he tugs you into his body with a firm arm around your back, essentially immobilizing you, keeping you close in case- "Simon." You say his name softly, gently, fingers holding onto his forearm. The touch grounds him, reminds him to breathe, and he relaxes slightly. "It's alright. We're okay, we're at the Christmas tree place. You're okay. You're with us." With you. With you and Emmaline. At home. He closes his eyes, repeating it in his mind, twice, three times, for good measure, before he trusts enough to uncover the baby's head and let go of you completely. You smile when he does, bright, beautiful, sweet, still working you touch against his arm, not stepping away.

"I'm sorry." He tries to explain, but you shake it off.

"Don't be. It's okay." You loop your arm through his, sticking close to his side. "Want to keep looking?" You ask, nonchalant, and he's overcome with emotion so strong it could bring him to his knees.

"Yeah, but I... I want..." he stumbles over it, words failing, and you wait, patiently, turning into him so you can look up at his face.

"What is it?" Holiday lights glow behind you, twinkling colors mixed with frosted whites, strung together across trees and posts and big red and green signs, 'O Christmas Tree' playing over the speakers that line the perimeter. He's never been one for holidays, never really cared about any of it, all the excitement lost on him, most of the celebrated days spent alone. But now... with you, with the baby, he feels the magic. He thinks he can even see it, in you, in Emmaline, and he's filled to the brim with the wonder, the anticipation for it all, to experience it all for the first time like this, with his angels.

"I want to kiss you." He says the same words he gave you a week ago, outside on the balcony, and you give you him the same smile, warm and welcoming, lips curling upwards with happiness.

"Please." You beam, and he obliges, your lips parting for his, getting lost in the taste of your mouth, decadent honey dripping across his tongue. You make him dizzy, make him stupid, make him so weak for you, and all he wants is more. He wants it all, wants everything you'd give him, and he has to hold himself back, cognizant of Emma in his arms, pulling away regretfully after five seconds that could last five hours, or days. Years. You clear your throat. "Well, okay, uh- should we?" You motion to another row of trees, and he nods with a laugh.

"We should."

Later, after the tree has been decorated, dinner has been made and cleaned up, fire started in the fireplace, Emmaline has had her bath, and you've changed into your pajamas, he sits on your couch with you curled into his side, both you and the baby asleep. It's late, and the lights are out, and he thinks he probably should have woken you to get you both up into bed, but he can't bring himself to shatter the moment, the silence, the fire, and the sounds of your breathing, face barely illuminated by the glow of the lights. He stays right there, listening to the crackle of the logs, staring at the tree, watching the two of you breathe, heart so full he thinks it could explode. This is it, he thinks. This is the magic.

[mayajadewrites]

birthday sex

˚ ₊ ‧ ⁺ ⋆synopsis˚ ₊ ‧ ⁺ ⋆: you're kento nanami's wife, and today just so happens to be his birthday.

warnings: creampie, mentions of babies, unprotected sex, oral fem! receiving , face riding

happy birthday to nanami kento, i hope you're relaxing on a beach in malaysia <3

"And, done." You lit the last candle on the table before looking around your home that you share with your husband, Kento Nanami.

Instead of taking his birthday off, he decided to work today. He said he'd rather miss you all day and come home to his favorite gift of all.

Life with Nanami is so simple. Once you wed, you became a stay at home wife. Your choice. You love cooking and cleaning for your hunk of a husband, so this is almost a dream job.

You pad over to the full length mirror that stays between the entryway and the living room, making sure your outfit, or lack there-of, looked perfect.

Last week Nanami took you to the mall to go lingerie shopping, to which you picked out a handful of pieces. You took note at the look on his face for each outfit, even though he loved all of them - there was one in particular that made him almost feral.

Your hands dragged over your voluptuous curves, which you knew made your husband go mad. He describes you as 'soft' and 'delicious'. You're wearing a teal lacy one piece, with a deep v that has your tits spilling out. You have a matching mesh robe laying over your body, cascading to the floor in the most angelic way.

Your hair is curled, skin is moisturized and scented with your favorite perfume that Nanami got you for Christmas the first year you started dating, which smells like roses, with a hint of vanilla.

You didn't apply much makeup - it would get ruined tonight anyways.

In the kitchen is a table full of all of Nanami's favorite dishes: sandwiches with your homemade bread, as well as miso ramen. He loves fruit, so you had a plethora of options for him, but you knew he would love the strawberries you picked from your garden that you both love to work on on the weekends.

˚ ₊ ‧ ⁺ ⋆

You heard tires roll onto your driveway - your husband is home.

To this day, you still get butterflies whenever you're anticipating his arrival.

Like clockwork, he locked the car, twice, opened the door to the mudroom and took his shoes off, then opened the door into the home.

"Happy birthday, baby!" You open your arms as his eyes meet yours. A smile creeps onto his face as he sets his briefcase down, walking quickly towards you to pick you up and spin you around.

"The best gift." Nanami pressed his lips to your forehead, nose, then to your lips. "Thank you, darling."

Nanami's eyes dragged over your figure once he put you down, his calloused hand pressed to your plush hip. "Is this one that we bought last week?"

"Mhm. You like?" A smile tugs at your lips as you give him a twirl.

"Honey, I love." He almost growled, pulling you into his bubble. You wrapped your arms around his neck, piling kisses onto his lips. His mouth wandered to your neck, leaving open mouthed kisses on your skin.

"Kento, we have to eat dinner first." Your back arched as you spoke, feeling your husbands fiery lips kiss the sensitive spot on your neck.

"My dinner is right here." He spoke in-between kisses, making sure not one centimeter was left untouched.

"No dessert before dinner my love, you know the rules." Reluctantly, you pulled away to walk into your kitchen. Nanami's eyes widened at the foods on the table - he didn't know where to start. He loves how you always make sure he's taken care of, in every sense.

˚ ₊ ‧ ⁺ ⋆

"Delicious as always, darling."

"Of course, Kento." You washed the final dish before turning around to face your husband. He's in front of you now as you lean back against the sink, his broad shoulders hovering over you.

"Now can I get my dessert?" Nanami pressed a hand to your hip, rubbing small circles on your skin as the other hand pushed a hair out of your face.

Without words, you answered him by pressing your lips to his. Your lips moved slowly, leaving room for your tongue to invade his mouth. His arms caged you at the counter - the veins on his arms clearly visible. Your hands glided up his chiseled chest, feeling the beat of his heart in your palm.

"You have my entire heart, darling." Kento purred into your mouth as he moved his lips against yours, lewd noises coming from your mouths colliding.

You could taste the strawberry on his tongue as you kissed him, only intoxicating you more. Nanami's hands gripped your hips as he hoisted you onto the counter - him in between your legs as he continued to kiss you.

You looked down at him, relishing this moment. He seemed to be doing the same, his honey colored eyes glistening.

His hands gripped your lace bodysuit, pulling on it ever so gently, making sure not to rip it. Then they traveled up your soft tummy to your chest, kneading your tits with more force.

You pressed a hand to the back of his head, feeling his fresh undercut that he got done yesterday. His mouth landed on your chest, biting, sucking, and kissing the sensitive skin. You felt his fingers push the fabric away from your tit, revealing your erect nipple.

Kento peered up through his lashes, watching your expression as he took the nub into his mouth, sucking slowly. "Oh, Kento." You moaned softly, wrapping your legs around his waist. Never ignoring your other breast - he gripped it with his other hand, massaging gently.

One thing about your husband - he wants to give you the most pleasure, even on days that are supposed to be about him.

Kento continued kissing, sucking, and biting your breasts, leaving purple marks all over your chest.

"Baby, bed please." You whine, your voice breathless as you feel your body heat up, gripping his shoulders the best you could.

"How can I say no to you when you say please like a good girl?" He purred, holding you up as he stepped back from the counter. You smiled as he walked the both of you to your bedroom, which was also lit with candles. You kissed his cheek gently as he walked, feeling his back muscles contract as your nails dragged along the fabric of his shirt.

He laid you down gently onto the plush fabric of the comforter, watching your hair splay out. He laid down on his back next to you, pulling you on top of him. "Are you having a good birthday, Kento?" You whisper, rolling yourself onto your stomach. He reaches for you, pulling you onto his lap.

"Mm, yes." He gripped the fat of your hips, pulling your body towards his face as you straddled him. "I'm ready for my second course."

"We just ate, Kento-" You giggle as he pulls your aching core onto his face, his hand moving the fabric away from your cunt gently.

"I'm still hungry." You watched his eyes flicker up to you as he plunged his tongue inside your core, earning a moan from you.

Kento fiddled with the body suit, eventually snapping the buttons so he could pull you fully onto his face.

"You know I love when you sit on my face, angel." Kento's hands planted on the fat of your ass, kneading your cheeks as he wrapped his lips around your clit.

"K-Kento-" Your thighs start to quiver as he takes turns sucking on your clit, to burying his tongue inside of you. The room filled with the sounds of Kento devouring your cunt like it was his last meal.

You rocked your hips against his face gently, feeling the contours of his face on your cunt.

He knew that you were close, so he brought one of his hands that were on your ass to your aching clit, massaging it in circles with two fingers.

"F-fuck, baby, ah-" Your thighs pressed together, squishing his face as you came. Instinctively, you lifted yourself up but Kento pulled you right back down.

Once he felt satisfied with his meal, he pulled his face out from under you, which was coated in your juices. He dipped his index finger inside you, then bringing the digit to your lips.

"Taste." Kento demanded. One thing about your husband, he wanted you to know how obsessed he was with you. He wanted you to taste how delicious you are.

You open your mouth slightly as he pushed his finger past your swollen lips.

"Delicious, hm?" He wiped part of his face with the back of his hand before gently pushing you off of him to peel off his clothes. You watched as he the fabric fell to the floor, mesmerized by his physique.

˚ ₊ ‧ ⁺ ⋆

"Kento." You whispered, as if you weren't in your own house. As if other people could be listening.

"Yes my love?" His large hand rested on your shoulder as he pulled the straps down of your lingerie. He marveled in how good the color looked against your skin, his fingers gliding down your arm.

"I-I want a baby." Your doe eyes find his, searching his eyes for an answer before his mouth says it.

"A baby? Are you sure?" He pressed his hands to your thighs. "I don't want you to feel like you have to do that just for me."

"That was always the plan, Kento." You moved your body closer to his on the bed. "We've been married for four years. I'm ready."

A smile graced Kento's face as he kissed you more times than you can count.

"How did I get so lucky with you?" He whispered, pressing his forehead to yours.

You felt the same. Being married to Kento feels like a fairytale every single day. Like you won the lottery.

"Happy birthday, baby." You pressed a sultry kiss to his lips, cradling his face in your hands.

He look a deep breath as he kissed you, slowly pushing you down on your back onto the bed. You looked down at his lower half, your breath hitching when you see his impressive cock. Even though you see it constantly, every time feels like you've never seen it before.

Kento aligned his leaking pink tip with your cunt, gently pressing as he moved his hips. He kept his eyes on yours as he sheathed himself into you, your walls stretching around his cock.

You closed your eyes as he pushed his entire length into you, his heavy balls hitting your skin.

"Keep your eyes open, honey." He brought his finger to your chin, lifting it so you're looking into his eyes. "I want to watch you as I put a baby inside of you."

Your mouth turned into an 'o' shape as he gained his rhythm, never leaving your gaze.

"You're taking my cock so well, you're always so tight." He praised you as he buried himself into your cunt. "Like a good girl, hm?"

You fight the urge to close your eyes as he thrusts into you at a quicker pace, the sound of his balls hitting your body as he plows into you.

"A-ah, I'm close darling." He watched you as his strokes became uneven. You watched the fire in his eyes as your walls fluttered and squeezed against his cock, milking him dry.

"Kento, fill me up, please."

He could never say no to you. Ever.

His entire body twitched as he put in his last strokes, his breath staggered. "I'm gonna put a baby in that belly of yours, you're gonna be swollen with m-my seed."

You wrapped your arms around his neck as he pressed himself into you one last time, coating your walls with his juices.

He emptied himself into you for what felt like minutes. Slowly, he removed himself from you, a whine leaving your lips. You're spoiled with him, truly.

He panted, squeezing your body against his gently as he kissed the side of your face. "Are you okay?"

"I always am my love." You nod as he caresses your face with his knuckles. "Did you enjoy your birthday?"

"I always do with you. And next year, maybe we'll have a little one to celebrate with too." He pressed his hand onto your tummy, rubbing it gently as if theres already a baby Kento growing inside of you.

One thing led to another, and there you were... on his cock... again.

"We gotta make sure there's a baby in you by tonight." Kento chuckled as he pulled you on top of him once again, kissing your swollen pink lips as you pushed yourself onto his cock once again. He watched his length disappear inside of you as his hands slapped your ass cheeks, his head laying on the pillows.

You looked down at your pussy swallowing his cock, shaking your ass is you move up and down his length. Curses and moans left his lips as you rode him, your walls squeezing tight around him.

"K-kento, I'm gonna come again."

"Go on darling."

You rocked your hips against him, your walls twitching around him as you used his cock to fuck yourself. The euphoria hit you hard as you came, your hands clenching his biceps as your entire body twitched.

As he watched you grind on him, he felt another wave of pleasure. He pressed his cock up into you, filling you again.

You're both panting as you come down from your highs, smiles on your faces because you both fucked each other dumb.

"Thank you for being my other half." Kento pulled you into his arms, your face on his chest as you felt his heart rate slow down.

"I love you, baby."

"I love you more my darling."

[going-to-ikea-for-the-fries]

Who wears the pants. || husband!John Price

[MASTERLIST]

Rating: M Words: 3.4K without the extra!! (this one got away from me, I'm sorry.) Pairing: husband!John x wife!reader CW: quick smut!, yelling mentioned, slightly dubcon (if you squint), john got angry and jealous Tags: you/your pronouns, afab!reader, smut, fingering-ish, slight exhibitionism, love bites and marks, established relationship, jealous!john price, anger mentioned, ghost's stirring the pot. Summary: John is embarrassed of the fact you 'wear the pants' in your relationship... But only after the lads come to stay over and a snarky comment from Simon, does he decide to show you what's what. a/n: my first attempt at writing smut that I wanted to post... Also Ghost/Simon is a dick in this one...

John simultaneously is and is not ashamed to say how much he loves you. 

Of course, he loves you to bits, finds you the most stunning woman he’s ever seen, and would kill and die for you in a heartbeat. His love was the epitome of “If I ever were to lose you, I'd surely lose myself.”

However, he would never risk introducing you to his teammates. Not if he can avoid it. And not just because he cares about you and wants to keep you away from prying eyes, safe and sound in your family home…

More like… they don’t need to know how John purrs when you scratch his beard right beneath his chin and whisper sweet nothings into his ear. They don’t need to see how his pupils almost morph into hearts equally if he sees you in one of his shirts, or in your work clothes, or in joggers and a sweaty t-shirt, or a sexy little number, or nude…

And they especially don’t need to know that their tough-as-nails Captain figuratively rolls over and bares his neck in submission when in the presence of his wife… Or that your voice is like a goddamn foghorn making him genuinely quake in a way he hasn’t since he was a boy at Sandhurst, getting yelled at by drill sergeants… 

He hasn’t left the toilet seat up in 12 years. Hasn’t tracked mud into your shared home (whose floors you had just mopped!) in 10. Hasn’t eaten the last of your snacks or used the last of the tea bags without replacing it in 6. 

There is no weaponized incompetence in your home because you know John is not incompetent and you will not allow him to feign being it to make you his maid. You take care of him and your home, and you refuse to let him disrespect you in any way… And he knows better than to try.

His teammates have no idea how hopelessly in love he is with you. With the way you seize control from him in a way he allows no one else to. Not his soldiers, not the rest of his family. He’s been the ‘man’ of the house in all aspects for as long as he can remember… But that stops the moment he crosses the threshold of the front door, hangs his coat and his gear in the hall closet, and pads through the home in search of you. 

He always finds you busying yourself with something or other and you beckon him close like a puppy, with a pat on the chair next to yours as you work at the dining table, or a come hither motion of the fingers as you water the plants, or reach your arms out for a hug as you stand atop a ladder halfway through repainting the accent wall in the living room. He always hugs and burrows himself in you, inhaling your scent, basking in your warmth, leaving kisses and touches in every inch of exposed skin.

He’s not embarrassed of you, he’ll gladly shout out to the world about his love for you. But he’s embarrassed by how he acts around you. Soap and Gaz would tell him he’s “whipped” if they ever knew what you do to him. So he doesn’t want them to meet you.

But he doesn’t have a choice. December 23rd, at 11 P.M., he and the lads have just touched down from a mission. The weather forecast speaks of a rainstorm and severe weather warnings extending right over Christmas… And John knows what he must do.

So disgruntled, your husband walks off to his office and calls you. In a low tone of voice, almost hushed, because he woke you up, he grumbles about the storm, about how Soap won’t be able to drive up to Scotland for Christmas, that Gaz can probably risk driving to Birmingham, but it’s still pretty unsafe, and that Ghost, as usual, was going to lock himself in his quarters on base and drink himself until he passes out…

You don’t need to be told again. You spring into action immediately. You simply reply that you’re getting up and getting the guest rooms ready, asking if one of the lads would mind getting the pull-out sofa in John’s study, and telling John to drive safe, that the roads are dangerous with the rain… 

It’s midnight when you hear the front door opening, and the hall light turns on, flooding the space with a bright warm-toned yellow-ish light. “Shoes off, you lot. The missus doesn’t want water or mud inside.” He demands in a gruff tone.

As they go about unzipping coats and undoing their muddy boots, you can hear John still chastising them. “I’ll stress again: I want you on your best behaviour. No work talk, no cursing, no disrespect. The missus is doin’ you a favour.” He adds as if the poor lads are children who cannot be trusted to be polite.

Unbeknownst to you, he had already spent the whole drive over from base warning them about picking up after themselves, about being respectful to you, about putting the toilet seat down, about making their beds… reaming them out as if they were wild animals who had never once been inside a house and would break and dirty up everything they touch.

You move to stand at the step that separates the lowered entryway from the sitting room, silently observing them, arms crossed as you lean your shoulder against the wall, wearing a robe and your house slippers as you look at them.

They’re all taller than you, moving surprisingly efficiently and quietly, trying not to disturb the peaceful home too much. They’re dripping wet, probably from rushing from the car in the driveway up to the front stoop. A set of four backpacks or duffle bags are on the floor by the door, their clothes for the days they’ll spend here inside.

“Give them a break, Jonathan, you can keep bossing them around in the morning, love.” You quip and you immediately feel all their backs stiffen, four pairs of eyes glued to you.

“Hi, lovie…” John says, already crossing the small entryway to wrap his arms around your waist, dropping a deep open-mouthed kiss to your awaiting lips. Your hand touches his face, caressing his cheek over his mutton chops.

“Steamin’ Jesus, the Captain’s got taste…” You hear a voice murmur, followed by a sharp ‘ow, what was that fo’?’ which causes both you and John to look at the other soldiers. The offending man, the shortest, with a mohawk, rubs at his arm, which seems to indicate the tallest one on his left side smacked him into shutting his mouth.

You don’t need to be told who’s who to realize that it was ‘Ghost’ who smacked ‘Soap’, while ‘Gaz’ stands on Soap’s other side and shoots John an apologetic look. He told you everything about them, without ever revealing names or pictures, for you to know more about them than you should. John himself as his lips pressed together, his mouth nearly disappearing behind his mustache, as he glares at the lads (aka Soap) for making comments about you.

You quickly approach the three men. “You must be the lads my husband talks so much about!” You say with a chuckle. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet the men responsible for bringing my John home in one piece every time…” You tell them gratefully while shaking each of their hands with two of your own, your eyes shining a bit.

“Please, come in!” You gesture behind you into the home as you flick the sitting room lights on. “John, will you show them their rooms while I put the kettle on?” You ask your husband as you slink into the kitchen. 

A few muffled footsteps, created by socked feet, are heard as they walk inside, with John directing the boys to the different bedrooms (and study), and you hear a gruff voice murmur something about taking the pull-out sofa. You assume it’s Ghost.

Your husband then comes to hug you around the waist as you wait for the water to boil, dropping kisses to your temple and cheek, doting on you while his big, calloused hands squeeze at every part of you, your thighs, especially, but your tummy as well, along with gentle words. “I missed you so much, lovie…” “Thank you for doing this…” “You know, I can never sleep right without you in my arms…” “Just missed you so much…”

Five minutes later, you hear their steps coming back as you’re finishing pouring the water into a few separate mugs. Your husband dislodges his arms from around you. He doesn’t need the others to see he’s so crazy about you. 

“Your home is beautiful, Mrs. Price.” Gaz says as you set the tea mugs, the sugar, and the milk within their reach on the island counter. He takes one of the mugs and tops it off with some milk. The way the young boy calls you ‘Mrs. Price’ has nothing if not respect dripping from it. 

It makes you tingle on the inside, even after so many years, the realization that you’re John’s wife, John’s choice, John’s priority. Your husband preens himself a bit when he catches the look in your eye. He loves that you’re his, of course, but loves it even more that you like being his.

“Thank you, Gaz. I’m glad you like it.” You remark with a smile as you sip your own tea. Herbal, different from theirs, so you can resume your sleep which John interrupted with his phone call. 

“Aye, real cosy!” Soap quips from beside him as he slides up to a stool on the island. He doesn’t drink tea, so you didn’t prepare any, per John’s request.

“I hope the beds are to your liking… I kinda made them in a hurry.” You quip, which causes the boys, and your husband, to laugh, as they seat themselves across from you, in the bar stools. You barely even noticed Ghost taking the last cuppa and sliding up next to Johnny, his mask rolled up just enough to allow him to drink.

“We’re soldiers, ma’am, we’ll sleep anywhere,” Gaz told you, ever polite, with a sweet smile on his lips. John has told you all about Gaz, his protegé, of sorts, a respectful lad, the youngest, but one that has proved himself to be useful.

Your eyes flitter over to John for a moment, watching as he drinks his tea, two fingers laced through the handle of his navy blue mug, rather than around him, his behind leaning back on the counter beside you. While doing that, however, you miss the glances the lads exchange with each other, and then to you.

“As true as that might be…” You trail off after sipping your tea and look back at the soldiers again. “I still hope you have some good rest. And, I’m sorry about the pull-out sofa… it’s a bit old, came from John’s old apartment… Has gotta be a decade old now.” You quip as you look toward Ghost.

“It’s alright. I’ll sleep fine.” Ghost says. “Like Gaz said, we can sleep wherever.” He adds.

Soap nods along. “Anything’s better than sleeping on the ground with your rifle between your legs and your jacket folded up to serve as an eyemask.” He adds and laughs.

“Johnny.” Your husband calls out, chastising him. “No work talk.”

“Aw, c’mon, Captain, that hardly counts as work talk.” He retorts with a little boyish grin.

“Them’s the rules. No bloody talk about service.” John insists.

“John.” You scold him, and your husband stiffens next to you, his eyes flittering over to you, eyebrows scrunched and his eyes softened as he meets your eye… nothing short of a puppy.

It was stronger than John at this point, to respond to your tone of voice with nothing but a baring of his neck, not a baring of his teeth like he would with anyone else. The boys all noticed it, the way his shoulders sagged and his eyes looked at you with utter devotion.

“Let the boys talk about work. As long as it’s nothin’ too gory or confidential…” You trail off. “I’m sure I’ll enjoy ‘earing all the stories they have to tell about you at work... Right, lads?” You ask as you look at them again.

“Oh, we’ve got stories alright.” Soap says with a giggle and a wagging of his brows, which causes Gaz and Ghost to snicker under his breath.

“Well, then, regale me with them during Christmas dinner, ye?” You ask them, to which they nod along with smiles. You could swear even Ghost had one in the corner of his scarred lips.

After a bit more small talk, you kissed John goodnight, while he told you he’d stay downstairs and talk with the lads a little longer, so you waved at them while trekking your way upstairs, the boys once more thanking you for the hospitality.

The moment John’s trained ears honed into the fact the bedroom door has closed, he finishes his tea and glares at the lads.

“Don’t be bloody flirtin’ with my wife.” He tells Soap directly, though his comment extends to Gaz and Ghost as well, which is why he glances to both sides at the other two.

“Sir?” Gaz asks while blinking.

“You ‘eard me, Garrick.” He adds and points a finger at the young Sergeant. 

“We’re not flirtin’, sir.” Soap tries to defend himself.

“Aw, that’s rich that there, MacTavish, yeah.” Your husband says bluntly.

“Weren’t flirting.” Ghost retorts as he looks at John. “I was more so interested in the way she has your balls in her little purse.” He adds.

Both Soap and Gaz turn to look at Ghost with eyes so wide you’d think he just tried to kill the Captain directly… and he might as well have, the way John choked on nothing and started coughing up a lung.

The other two are trying to muffle their chuckles and hide their smirks as Simon continues. “Don’t give me that look, boss. We all saw it. Pretty thing might as well be walking you around on a lead.”

“Nonsense.” John says defensively as he snatches the cups of tea from the island and turns to deposit them all in the kitchen sink. He starts washing them quickly, shoulders stiffened.

“Bunk down.” John demands. “We’ve got plenty to do tomorrow.” He adds. The light screeching of bar stools being pulled back and pushed back into place is heard, as the boys vacate the kitchen with curt ‘Goodnight, sir’ murmured before they headed upstairs as well.

“Balls in her bloody purse, my arse.” John grumbles under his voice as he finishes doing the dishes, drying his hands, and then setting them on the island across from him, head hung in shame.

He knows Simon’s right. Hell, he revels in the fact you’ve got metaphorical balls of steel to confront him, to steal control right from under him, to wear the pants in the relationship. Lord knows it took him years to meet a woman who could not only keep up with him but put him in his place…

So why does it embarrass him so to hear them snicker at that fact? Why does it annoy him to look weak for you in front of his men? Why does it anger him that he loves to be weak for you?

Those are the thoughts in his head as he turns off the sitting room and kitchen lights and marches upstairs... And as he approaches your bedside in the dark, pulling the covers out from atop of you, exposing your body to him.

Under that robe you came to welcome them in, you were only wearing one of his t-shirts and no pants whatsoever, which he had peeped by the way your bare legs had shown through the slit between the two sides of the fabric whenever you walked.

“John?” You ask him in surprise, his breath is a bit ragged, more so huffing like a bull through his nose, as he grabs you and pulls you up into his arms, only to drop you on the bed further in the middle of the bed.

The giggle that escaped you when he did so annoyed him even more. He’s angry, pissed that he had been humiliated in front of his men, that you had humiliated him by merely existing and going about your relationship with him the way you always did…

So why are you giggling? Is he really that weak for you that you’ve grown to not fear his anger?

He grabs the hem of his shirt and yanks it up and over your head, tossing it to the side before he attacks your neck with nothing but kisses and bites, his hands touching your naked body, rough skin dragging over every inch of the softness he has left on display.

“John!” You giggle some more as he keeps touching and kissing you, his body weighing down on yours, your legs parted to accommodate him. “We can’t… We have guests!” You try to negotiate as his fingers dig into the pudge of your thighs and slide around to grip a greedy handful of your ass.

You still haven’t spotted the anger in him… And, as such, your playful attempts at negotiating postponing sex only annoy him more. You’re still trying to call the shots…

His left hand wraps around your face, quieting you with a strong palm holding your lips, his fingers digging into your jaw on either side. “You’re mine.” That’s all he says as his fingers continue exploring your body.

“You think you can embarrass me like that in front of the blokes?” He asks you in a whisper as his teeth catch your earlobe and suck and bite at it. “Hm?” He beckons, his tone aggressive. “Make me look like a big girl’s blouse in front of my subordinates?” He continues.

A shiver runs down your spine as his free hand wraps around the waistband of your underwear and yanks it off, down your legs, tossing them to a random spot, barely giving you time to react before his fingers drag up your thigh.

“You think you’re oh-so-box-clever, innit?” He asks you as his fingers slowly drag across your slit, finding your clit effortlessly, years of practice aiding in his torturing of you. You find yourself moaning and sighing against his hand, hips stuttering a bit, your feet looking for a perch at the edge of the bed so you can rub yourself into his hand.

“Walking around in just my shirt and those knickers and stupid bloody robe, making my boys see how lucky I am to have you, make them jealous… Only to embarrass me, make me look weak…” He trails off and tuts loudly, his tongue clicking disdainfully.

The things he’s saying make no sense to you. You didn’t try to seduce his friends, and you sure as hell didn’t try to embarrass him! It’s just the way you always act around him, around the house. He’s never complained, in fact, he’s praised you plenty of times for being ‘perfect’ for him… So where did this change of his come from?

Frankly, you don’t know, but you don’t care… It has been weeks since you were last together, sure, but you know that’s not the main reason why you’re loving this. The unbridled rage in his voice, combined with the way his experienced fingers touch your body, is making you feel things John’s never made you feel before. Your mind is clear of nothing if not a pang of hunger for him, your hands gently pawing at his shoulders atop his charcoal grey t-shirt, soft whimpers muffled by the hard palm pressing you into silence, into submission.

“I’m afraid I’ve let you gone unchecked for too long, lovie...” He grunts in your ear as his fingers draw circles against your clit, the rough pads catching at the throbbing bud, making you whine and whimper, your whole body shuddering against him. “I’m going to fix that attitude of yours...” He clicks his tongue again, sounding all the more annoyed.

“Now you’re going to be good f’r me…” He says as he uncovers your mouth, his hand, wet with saliva, slipping from atop your mouth to grab your wrists and pin them above your head, flush to the mattress. “And make the lads know exactly who’s in charge in here. Clear their doubts...”

[MASTERLIST]

extra: 500 words-ish

The next morning, you wake up before John, as usually tends to happen when he comes back from a mission. The silence and lack of stress, the warmth of you in his arms, the cosy atmosphere of the house… It’s all the perfect sedative to keep him as good as dead for many, many hours. You slip out of his embrace and check the clock… it was just past 9 A.M. You pad quietly to the hall bathroom after fishing out a change of clothes from the wardrobe, and rinse off the sweat from the night before, as well as the dried slick and cum between your thighs. You’re still unstable on your feet, your thighs and the space between them deliciously sore, your body covered in marks of the night you spent in your husband’s arms… You feel like you’re floating as you drift downstairs and into the kitchen…  “Fuckin’ hell!” You jump, startled. In your kitchen, pouring himself a cup of tea is Ghost… You think. The height seems about right, though you didn’t expect a broad-shoulder, bare-chested blond in your kitchen. “Good morning.” You say softly as you shuffle inside, hearing him return that same greeting in a way-too-deep of a voice, standard of man who’s just woken up. “Go put a shirt on, this isn’t the beach.” You scold him, as you open the fridge, looking for the eggs. Your voice is as fierce as it usually tends to be with John. When he doesn’t reply, you look over at him, noticing his mask is missing. You assume John scolded him about it, how you’d likely be startled by seeing a masked man in the night. The look in Ghost’s eyes is unreadable, stern, unwavering, and eerily calm, as if he’s seeing through you. They flit over you, up and down, with a certain glint you can’t quite decipher. You straighten your back in the face of his look, portraying nothing if not confidence. Ghost leans against the counter, one hand holding his tea cup and sipping from it, the other resting on the counter to support his weight, before one of his eyebrows shoots up. “Nice night, huh?” He asks you and, immediately, you feel your entire confidence bleed out of you, your eyes widening like saucers. Of course he heard it… You’re sure all the lads heard you, especially considering John and you started right as they had gotten to their respective rooms to sleep, all of which were located in the same hallway as the master bedroom… It’d surprise you if they hadn’t… Hell, it’d surprise you if the neighbors across the way didn’t! The way John had you last night, crying out his name at the top of his lungs and making you apologise repeatedly for something you didn’t even do (on purpose) definitely leaked through the walls… Just like the shame you currently feel leaks through your pores. You turn away to fix your eyes on the fridge, too embarrassed to face him again after realizing he knows. Your brain rushes to find something to distract you, to hide what you feel… “Are you hungry?” You end up asking softly.

[marauder-misprint]

Faking it

Sirius Black x fem!reader

3k words

cw: fluff

People were only mildly surprised when you started to date Sirius. He had started flirting with you in Charms. And then in Astronomy and Ancient Runes. Which turned into whenever and wherever he saw you in the castle. You had never thought much of it, knowing full well that Sirius flirted with a lot of girls. It wasn’t until he asked you to accompany him to Hogsmeade that it hit you: He hadn’t been flirting with anyone else for at least a week, only you. Everyone else saw it coming, but you were blindsided.

When the first date went well, you still played it low, not believing that Sirius could commit to one person. With more dates and continued flirting, you two became official. You had been convinced that maybe you could be enough for him. After a month of being official, it was everyone else who was fully surprised. Sirius never stayed with one girl so long. It stroked your pride that of all the girls at Hogwarts, you were the one who got him to stick around for a while. 

For a time, you two were inseparable. Always cozied up to each other before and after classes. Always taking trips to Hogsmeade, just the two of you. Snogging in a corner, away from the prying eye.

You thought everything was fine over the Christmas break. You made time to see each other, you going to the Potters’, where he was staying. Nothing anyone said or did hinted at anything being amiss, except for a single glance shared between SIrius and James a few minutes before midnight on New Year’s Eve. You brushed it off as overthinking what was likely a trick of the light. 

The ride back to Hogwarts was fine. As was the Welcome Back feast. Everything was fine. You weren’t as attached at the hip, but you figured that was healthy, being comfortable in your relationship and being your own people. Yes, that was good and everything was fine. 

Until you heard him flirting with another girl a few weeks into the spring term. Your heart sank and shattered. You watched her twirl her hair and giggle. He gave her his award-winning smile. She leaned up and kissed his cheek. He had no negative reaction, no “I have a girlfriend.” The hollow, empty feeling of disbelief sank into your chest as you turned and walked away. You skipped dinner to be in your room. You sobbed.

The next day, you broke up with Sirius at breakfast. You approached him and ripped off the bandaid.

“Sirius, congrats, you’re free to see other girls, like you so apparently want to. We’re over.”

You walk away before more tears can fall. You leave the table of Gryffindors utterly confused. Sirius and James had discussed your relationship over the break, which had resulted in James telling him that it was his first long relationship so he would have adjustments to make if he wanted it to last. Sirius had been under the impression that everything was still going good between you. After you ended it, he just sat at the table, staring at where you had stood and delivered the blow.

“Pads? You okay?” Remus asked.

He didn’t respond. He didn’t know what he did wrong, where it went wrong. The girl he had worked so hard to get was gone and he didn’t know why. He couldn’t focus at all in class that day.

You, on the other hand, put all of your energy into class and Quidditch. You volunteered to help tutor some first years in Transfiguration. You made yourself busy. You seemed to be everywhere, doing everything. You gave yourself no time to think about Sirius.

During the next Quidditch match, you scored 90% of your house’s points. Even if your seeker hadn’t caught the snitch, you would’ve won. You received top grades on every test and essay you turned in. You were constantly smiling and laughing, always surrounded by your other friends.

While you were a shining beacon, Sirius fell deep into himself, far more quiet and reserved than he had ever been. 

Sirius almost dropped Quidditch. He was finding it hard to drag himself to practice. If he didn’t have James, he probably would have. He couldn’t bring himself to study or do homework so his test grades weren’t as good as they could’ve been, and without Remus, his essays wouldn’t have been handed in. His mind was constantly on you. He didn’t understand and he wanted to. He needed to. 

How did you not miss him like he missed you? How were you able to end it and act like nothing had happened? What had happened?

What he didn’t see was what you didn’t allow anyone else to see: you crying in the shower, crying with your curtains closed and a silencing charm cast on your bed, crying in a secluded corner of the library. You felt so broken inside, but somehow that fueled you to do better, be better. You’d make Sirius regret breaking your heart. You had been the girl to tie down the Sirius Black for six months. And you were the one to end it, in the eyes of everyone. You hadn’t told anyone about the girl you saw him flirting with and it seemed that he didn’t tell anyone either. He was allowing everyone to see you as the girl who tamed Sirius and then left him. 

It’s Remus who approaches you in the library during one of the days when the tears fell on their own accord down your face. You had been studying all day. Your books piled around you and various homework assignments scattered around the table. You were trying to crank out several subjects at once in some sort of roundtable system. Remus sat across from you, not saying anything. It takes you a few minutes to realize someone had joined you. You sniffle as you finally look up at him

“Oh… hey Remus.” Your voice is weak from crying and not speaking for several hours.

“Hey,” he whispers. He wasn’t expecting you to be crying and it threw him off. His original interrogation plan had to be scrapped. After a moment, he asks, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, just peachy,” you answer with another sniffle.

There’s a beat of silence. 

“What do you want, Remus?”

He flinches at the expected sharpness in your voice. He fiddles with the cuffs of his sweater.

“Well, I had wanted to talk to you about Sirius.”

You put your quill down with a sigh and look at him. Your eyes are puffy and slightly bloodshot. Your face is patchy with splotches from on-and-off crying. Overall, you look exhausted. 

“What about him?” you ask, your voice firm yet tired.

“What happened?”

You scoff. “I broke up with him because he broke my heart.”

Remus leans forward over the table.

“What did he do?” He sounds so concerned and his face shows just that.

You just sigh. 

“What did Sirius do?” he repeats.

“He was flirting with another girl. And then when she kissed him, he didn’t do anything.”

“When was this?” His brows furrowed over his honey brown eyes. This was obviously new news to him.

“The day before I ended it.” You pause for a moment, debating how much of your thoughts you should share. “I knew it was going downhill. He was getting distant. Tired of me. I just caught him indulging himself in secret so I figured why not free him to do as he wants, since it’s clearly not me anymore.”

Remus leans back and crosses his arms. His contemplative expression has you furrowing your brows. You look at all of your homework spread out around you. You wish it wasn’t so messy so you could quickly clean up and leave Remus and the library. Remus was still figuring out what to say, trying to see how your version of events compared with SIrius’. 

“If you ‘freed’ him as you say, why has he been moping around the common room then?”

You roll your eyes. “I don’t know and it’s not really any of my business anymore, now is it?”

“I think it is.”

You purse your lips and send Remus a scalding look.

“I’m just saying…” He leans forward again. “Sirius wasn’t, isn’t tired of you.”

“Then who was the girl?”

Remus shrugs as he stands up.

“I’ll see what he knows about that. Talk to him, yeah?” He waits a moment for you to give a response, which you don’t give. “Give the poor sod something. He really is moping.”

After Remus leaves, you slowly put away your things. You didn’t feel like working anymore. Some small part of you was glad to know that Sirius was missing you, that he wasn’t happy to be single. But Remus’ visit felt like salt in the wound for some reason. You could feel the need to sob building in your chest and it wasn’t the kind of crying that you could do in the library. You retreat to your dorm, which is thankfully empty. You sink to the floor as you feel the wave of sadness overwhelm you. 

A hint of crimson under your bed catches your eye and you reach to pull out whatever it is. You wail a sob when you realize it’s Sirius’ sweater, the one he had given you over Christmas break at the Potters’ house. You had goosebumps up and down your arms as you sat next to him on their couch. It didn’t take Sirius long to notice and he disappeared momentarily, only to come back with the sweater. He gave it to you without a word. He just smiled as you pulled it on and brought the sleeves up to sniff it. What kind of girlfriend would you be if you didn’t enjoy his smell? You bring the sweater in your hands up to your nose. It’s more faint now, but it still smells like him. The smell brings you back to a different day over break.

•••

You had been laying in his lap in the conservatory, in the sweater and under a blanket. James was elsewhere; you think he said he would be writing to Remus, Peter and others if you needed him, but you knew Sirius had asked for some alone time with you so he was getting out of the way. Sirius was twirling strands of your hair around his fingers as he studied your face.

“What’s on your mind, love?” he had asked, voice soft.  

“Just thinkin’ ‘bout how perfect this feels,” you said. You smiled up at him. “I’d like to bottle how I feel right now so I can feel it when I’m feeling low.”

He leaned down and kissed your forehead. His curls that fell forward tickled your face. 

“I’m not going anywhere. I’ll remind you how it feels.”

“You’re not that part I’m worried about. The coziest. The comfort. The snow!”

Sirius looked up and appeared shocked to see that it had been snowing. He had been so focused on you that he hadn’t noticed. 

“I’ll find a way to make it snow for you on the summer solstice if that’s what you want.”

You smiled wider and shook your head. “There are more simple things you can do to make me smile, you goof.”

“Yeah? Like what?” he teased.

“Kiss me.”

And then he did just that. You had adjusted so he wasn’t at such an odd angle. It was a soft and gentle kiss that was followed by him peppering your face with kisses. As much as you had wanted to, you both knew you couldn’t snog at that moment. The door was cracked open and James or his parents could enter at any moment. 

•••

As you inhale again, you decide that you should talk to Sirius. Maybe, just maybe, you had been too hasty in breaking up with him. Maybe it wasn’t too late to fix things. Especially if Remus had been honest in saying he was moping around the common room all day. You wipe your eyes and put on a brave face before heading to dinner. 

---

Remus leans toward Sirius as the dark haired boy glowered at the mashed potatoes on his plate during dinner.

“She’s broken up about it too,” Remus says, his voice low so only Sirius could hear him.

Sirius looks to where you are sitting, animatedly telling a story to your friends.

“Doesn’t appear that way.”

“It’s an act,” Remus says. “Found her crying in the library today.”

Sirius gives him a disbelieving look.

“Yeah? And how do you know it’s about me?”

“I asked,” he answers, rolling his eyes. “She said you broke her heart.”

“What?” Sirius gasped.

Remus nods, shoveling food into his mouth. Sirius watches him, waiting for more information. 

Remus swallowed. “Something about you distancing yourself and then flirting and kissing another girl.”

Sirius shakes his head as he looks down at his plate again. He mutters “no” over and over to himself. He thinks back to when you broke up with him and the days leading up to it.

“It was that ballsy third year!” Sirius exclaims, his head snapping up. “Little bitch was flirting with me, not the other way around! I was trying to let her down easy! Moony!”

“I’m not the one who needs to hear about that.”

They both look in your direction. You had finished whatever story you had been telling and now are watching the boy across from you with a smile on your face. The smile Sirius had grown to love seeing on your face, especially when he was the one who caused it. Remus looks back at Sirius.

“Talk to her. She just thinks you betrayed her trust.”

“What would I even say?”

“The truth, Pads. Tell her the truth.”

---

You wait until the next day to talk to Sirius. However, now that you actually want to find him, you swear he’s nowhere to be found. You check all of his usual spots, each empty. What’s even more frustrating is you’ve found Remus, James and Peter. You don’t talk to them, but why can’t you find Sirius? You want to scream. 

Giving up, you go sit outside the castle. It is too cold to comfortably sit outside for too long being that it wasn’t quite spring yet. You welcome the cold air. It feels nice against the heat of frustration from failing to find Sirius. You start to walk the perimeter of the castle, unsure if you wanted to keep moving or sit on one of the stone benches. After days of crying from sadness, you almost find it comical to want to cry out of frustration. It feels like a completely different kind of emotion and for a moment, you honestly debate screaming. It would be cathartic, but it would draw attention. You could find somewhere less public to scream. 

You nearly jump out of your skin when you hear your name. You turn around to see the very person you had been searching for. He is properly dressed to be spending time outdoors with his thick robes, gloves and scarf. 

“Sirius!” you say. “Can we talk?”

He blinks at you. “I was going to ask the same thing… Oh, you must be freezing, love.”

He walks toward you, unties his scarf and wraps it around your neck. Out of habit, you lift part of it to your nose and inhale deeply. His scent is enough to warm you from the chill, not even considering his gesture or his residual warmth on the fabric. 

“I wanted to say I’m sorry,” you say after a moment. He was looking at you with a softness in his eyes that you didn’t see often. “I shouldn’t have ended things so abruptly.”

You cock your head to the side as he chuckles at that. 

“If what Remus told me is true, you had reason to be pissed. But I wish you would’ve talked to me first.” He gives you a sympathetic smile that confuses you. “I would have explained.”

“What explanation do you have for flirting with someone?” you ask, words coming out choked. After wanting to talk to him so badly, you didn’t think getting the words out would be so difficult.

“Let’s sit, yeah?” he says, taking your hand and leading you to one of the stone benches against the castle. “I wasn’t the one flirting. Some third year came up to me and started chatting me up.”

“But I heard you?” 

“You heard me being polite, trying to let her down easy. I was honestly so… so… baffled? Godsmacked? Confused. Floored. When she kissed me. I couldn’t react right away. And am I right to assume that’s all you saw?”

You nod, considering what he was saying and the truth to it.

He nods as well. “Then you didn’t hear her saying that she shouldn’t go around kissing guys with girlfriends whom they love very much.”

Your eyes go wide.

“You… love me?” you breathe.

He gives your hands a squeeze. You look down at them, having not realized that he was still holding them, and then you look back at Sirius. He’s already looking at you with kindness in his grey eyes. 

“I do. I love you so much.” He pauses for a moment. “This isn’t the circumstances I had planned on telling you… Was hoping for something a bit more romantic.”

You laugh, shaking your head. 

“If you love me so much, would you consider taking me back?” you ask softly. You hope you sound as hopeful as you are. 

“If you promise to talk to me, hell, argue with me, when something’s wrong.”

You nod with a smile. “Yes. I would rather argue with you for days than relive the pain I put us through.”

“Put us through? You seemed pretty happy without me…”

You put a hand on Sirius’ cheek.

“Darling, I was faking it. There are a lot of places in the castle to cry in private.”

“Well, then, here’s to not being miserable anymore?” he asks.

“Here’s to trusting each other and loving each other,” you say before gently placing a kiss on his cheek. 

[localkiss]

MY DADDY'S LOLLIPOP ♡

pairings: james sunderland x fem!reader

synopsis: You've been acting up ever since he got home, snuggling against him in the wrong way, watching a scary movie. And he decides that enough is enough, beginning to put you in your place. Teach you how to be a good girl again.

cw: MDNI, INCEST, DEAD DOVE, SLIGHT OOC JAMES, nipple play, unprotected p in v, creampies, oral (m receiving), guilt, mentions of mary, dirty talk, spanking, daddy kink, desperation, virginity loss, slight body worship, slight somno, pet names, manhandling, pregnancy kink, praise/degradation kink. lmk if i missed anything.

wc: 4.8k

masterlist & my ao3

thank you @bunnyclaire for proof reading <3! tags: @gettingsilly @withonly-sweetheart not sure who else 2 tag... also forgive me if there are some errors, fixing it in ao3 and then pasting it here is ass. </3

You hum your way around the house, clad in a nightgown and your underwear. It's too bad your dad couldn't make it back in time to start a binge fest of scary movies. It's not fun when you watch them alone, but you decide to do so anyway. 

  Picking out Scream, you push play. Snuggling up into your warm and thick blankets on the couch. With your snacks on your lap and your drink on the coffee table, you are all set! 

  Since you rewatch the same movies every year, you know the plot like the back of your hand. Even though you know it so well, you still jump at the scary parts and your heart thumps wildly. If your dad was here, he wouldn't stop teasing you for every little jump. 

  As the night goes on, you begin to nod off. With your hand in your bucket of candy and your head tipped back a fluffy pillow. You made it through at least three movies before getting too tired to continue the binge of movies. Groaning, you shift in your sleep. 

  The loud buzzing of your cell phone on the coffee table immediately wakes you up. Your heart leaps out of your chest as you frantically locate the source of the noise. The house is quiet and dark, except for the few noises from the fridge in the kitchen. Picking up your phone, you see it's your dad. 

  “Mm.. dad!” You croak out, rubbing your eyes. 

  “Hey honey. Just wanted to let you know I'll be home soon, okay? Make sure the front door is locked. Are you having fun watching the movies?” 

  Humming, you set the bowl of candy down on the table as you pad your way to the door. Double checking if you locked it or not. “I already locked it dad. I fell asleep watching one of them, it's just not the same without you. Hurry back,” you whine into the phone. 

  James sighs deeply, “Okay. See you soon.” He hangs up and you turn to flip the switch so there's light in the living room. Making you squint your eyes to see for a few moments. 

  Cozying back up in your spot, you put on The Nightmare Before Christmas. Perfect movie to fall asleep to. Pulling your blankets up over your shoulders, you begin to munch on your candy. 

  This time, you set down the candy as you feel yourself getting tired. Yawning, you snuggle your face into your pillow. Allowing your eyelids to droop and get heavy. The TV slowly begins to muffle out into background noise. 

  It doesn't even wake you up when your dad finally gets home thirty minutes later. Opening the door and finding you curled up, with the movie playing at a low volume. James sets down his bag on the table after locking the door and kicking his shoes off.

  Humming as he shuts the TV off, picking your body up carefully, with your blanket still wrapped around you. He pushes your door open and sets you down on your soft mattress. Adorned with the few stuffed animals he bought you or won for you. 

  Grunting, he begins to tuck you in. Quickly going back to grab your pillow and place it under your head. As soon as he deems you comfortable enough, he begins to walk away. 

  “Daddy…” 

  But you sleepily grab onto his arm, tugging him back to lay with you. You know, you're getting too old for your dad to hold you until you fall asleep, but that doesn't mean James won't not do it. Especially when you are trying to keep yourself awake for his sake. 

  “Sweetheart,” he starts, climbing into your bed behind you with a grunt. “I'm sorry for not being here with you on time. Forgive me, okay?” He presses a chaste kiss to your hairline and you nod a few times. 

  “Good.” James wraps his arms around you loosely. 

  Feeling the warmth of his chest press against your back just makes you melt. Nobody will ever top your dad. He's always going to be the best. 

  And you immediately knock out. He doesn't leave just yet, knowing that sometimes when he leaves, you wake back up. So, a lot of the times he ends up falling asleep next to you too. Resting his forehead against your shoulder. The rise and fall of your breaths and the soft mumbles lulls him to bed. 

  His arms instinctively flex and tighten around your middle, drawing you closer to him. It's the days like these where your mom's death gets to him. That damn disease taking her away from you both. Your dad pretends he's alright, that her death didn't take away from his life. Didn't take away the little joy of simply being there, alive, and able-bodied. 

  It doesn't help that you have the same sad eyes as your mother. Oh, no. Not one bit. Does it bother him? A little, but deep inside it festers into something else. Enjoying the fact you are becoming more like his late wife than a different person. Your own person. He just pushes those thoughts away because you are his baby girl. Not his dead wife. 

  Really gets him going sometimes when he sees you dress up all pretty in those skirts. Showing off your legs with your pantyhose and thigh high socks. Sometimes those skirts are a bit too short for him to feel comfortable with you being out and about in them. 

  He can't police you on what to wear and not to wear. What does he know about fashion? Nothing. Has worn the same MG65 Field Jacket for years. As long as it doesn't have holes in ‘em, he'll wear them to death. 

  Especially when you ask nicely for him to take you out to the mall or to simply go on a walk with you. Who goes on walks dressed like that? You do. 

  It doesn't click in his mind on why you choose those shoes when you know you've gotta walk a lot. Thinks they're cute anyways, blisters aside when you start bawling about your feet hurting. So, yes , daddy does carry his little girl around when she needs him to. And yes, you are spoiled. Probably a bit too much if you ask anyone else. 

  Hours later, you groan, stretching your body. Feeling your dad's body right up against you. Blinking, you squint, looking around the room. It's still dark out, drawing a large exhale out of you. Maybe you can start up the movie marathon with him again. 

  Turning around, you begin to shake your dad awake. “Dad, wake up. Wake up…” you grumble, hearing him breathe heavily like he's about to wake up.

  “Daddy, wake up!” Raising your voice and pushing him to lie down on his back. Climbing over his lap and sitting down, beginning to shake him with more force. All of that motion causes you to sort of bounce against his lap. 

  James's eyes open slightly, his hands coming up to rest on your hips. “Hmm.. baby? What's wrong?” Blinking and furrowing his eyebrows to see you. Breathing heavily as his body fully wakes up. 

  “Let's go watch our movies, please?” Holding yourself up by placing your hands on his chest. 

  His hands squeeze your hips as he opens and closes his mouth, thinking of what to say. All he can think about is how this sight of you sitting on his lap like this, makes his cock start to harden. The weight of your body, the feeling of your shapely ass and your flesh, it's all so stimulating. 

  Groaning, he closes his eyes. The fat of your hips and the way his fingers sink into you, makes him imagine you bouncing on his cock. Him holding and helping you keep steady as you work yourself on him. Crying out for daddy as you cream around his girth. 

  “Okay.. okay.” He nods quickly. 

  Leaning down, you kiss his cheek with a giggle. “Let's go!” Getting off of him and running out of your room, into the living room. The sound of your bare feet hitting the hardwood echoes throughout the house. 

  James gets up, “I'll be right there honey. Let me change into something more comfortable.” Walking over to his room, closing the door and stripping down. Throwing his clothes into the laundry basket, he opens the door to his walk-in closet. Stepping into his plaid pajama pants and tugging on a random shirt. 

  Sighing, he looks down at his little friend. “Oh for god's sake,” shifting it around so it isn't visible anymore. Praying it goes away soon. It would be so embarrassing for you to notice it and put two and two together. 

  He isn't ready to tackle that kind of stuff yet. James walks out of his room and makes his way to where you are at. Finding you all curled up and putting another classic movie on. 

  “Are you cold honey? I can go and get your blanket and we can share it, if you want.” 

  “I'm okay. I can just cuddle up to you,” giggling, patting the cushion behind you. “Come sit here.” 

  James slips behind you, trying to keep some distance between your ass and his naughty not-so-little friend down there. While watching the movie, his arms swoop around you as you slouch against his chest. Feeling you jump at the sudden noises, he has to stifle his laugh. So cute, he thinks. 

  Towards the end of the movie, you wiggle to be snug against his chest. The warmth transferring to your back. Sitting up and repositioning your head to be comfy. Holding onto his left arm, feeling the bit of muscle he has. 

  He presses a kiss to the crown of your head. And the movie ends, you scramble to switch to a different movie. Feeling your ass touching his groin, so.. so.. sooo snugly. Looking down, he watches the way his cock kicks against the confines of his pajama pants, begging to be freed. Sweat begins to form on his scalp, beading soft droplets around his hairline. It's okay, it's okay James.. just—just relax. He sighs, placing his hand on your knee, the other one still wrapped around your waist. 

  Your skin runs hot and tingly as soon as your dad’s hand is on your knee. Wanting to squeeze your legs shut, feeling your cunt throb and ache. Remembering the times you have accidentally seen him touching himself. How he spat on it, just to tug it faster. The soft moans and groans he let out, being careful not to draw your attention with the volume. At that point, you started to tiptoe back to your room to finger yourself. Covering your mouth with your free hand, as humiliation flooded your veins. 

  But, you keep still, knowing and feeling his hard-on against your back. Wanting to appear as innocent as possible, as you make him horny. You push back, wiggling like you are resituating yourself. Grinding, catching the way his hands and arms flex, inciting a smirk out of you. Halting your movements, you turn your head, pressing your lips against his cheek, near the corner of  his lips. 

  And he dips down and kisses your temple. You titter and lower your chin to your collarbones, feeling his fingers start creeping their way towards your side. Knowing he’s about to start tickling you. 

  The movie is simple background noise, drowning out the creaks of the house. He laughs behind you, warm breath tickling your ear. Then, his hands start attacking your ribs and armpit, erupting a guffaw. 

  “Dad, stopp!” Squirming, you push down, trying to get away from his hands and eventually your head lays right next to his bulge. Kicking your feet, you fail to get his hands off of you. Laughing so hard, your cheeks are stained a cherry tomato red, and you're beginning to sweat. 

  Without even thinking about it, you turn and press your face just a few centimeters away from his no-no zone. Just wanting to hide yourself away from his tickling fingers. His hips jumped up a centimeter or two. A puff of warm air exhales from your mouth has James hissing faintly. 

  Hearing him react to where your face is located, you smile mischievously. Deciding to take it up a notch, see how he acts. Relocating yourself on his stiff member, nuzzling into it.

  “What is this, dad?” Your voice is muffled, vibrating against him. “Is it candy?” Soft and innocent as you can be. 

  “Oh,” he twitches against you, “uh… it-it’s nothing special, honey.”

  “You're lying, I know you're hiding candy away from me dad! I want to see what kind it is,” you shift onto your haunches, furrowing your eyebrows and pursing your lips. Grabbing the waistband of his pants and boxers, tugging it down impatiently. Cunt throbbing and leaking slick into the gussets of your panties. 

  And his dick springs out, standing straight to your attention. Before you could do anything, James grabs your hands and yanks you over his leg as he situates himself to sit up properly. Feet laying flat against the floor. 

  Without a warning, he hikes up your nightgown and gropes your backside. Pulling a cheek and spreading you open, just to let it go and smack your ass. Squealing, you writhe on his lap, feeling tears start to flood your eyesight. 

  “Bad girl,” he scolds you, “I don't remember teaching you how to be a slut. But since you want to see it so bad, I'll teach you how to be a good girl again. Spank you over and over again until you've learned your lesson.” His rough hands hit against each cheek until you are full on sobbing. 

  “Got that, baby?” James rubs his hands across, soothing your sensitive and raw skin. Welts of his hand prints are all across them, making him bite his lip at the sight. “Say, ‘yes daddy' .”

  “Mm.. y-yes daddy,” you whimper out. 

  “Good girl, now get on your knees and take that nightgown off, sweetheart.” Patting the back of your thighs as a signal. 

  You pry yourself off of him, legs wobbly as you stand between his legs, sliding off your nightgown, leaving you in your red cotton panties. Holding onto him as you get on your knees. Looking up at your dad, with a pink tear stained face. 

  Leaning down, he presses a kiss to your forehead, his thumbs wiping away your tears. “Such a good girl,” he hums, stroking your hair. “Now open that filthy mouth for me.” 

  Opening your mouth, staring into his clouded eyes, waiting for your next command. Hands on his thighs, trying not to look down at his lap. 

  “Now, baby, daddy's going to feed you what you thought was candy. Okay?” His right hand pulling away from your head and giving his cock a few strokes. Watching you nod and blink slowly at him. Slowly, he guides his tip into your mouth, groaning at the feeling of your hot, wet mouth on him. 

  “Suck on it like a lollipop,” James’s left hand gently holds your hair back. “Yeah.. just like that, princess. Just like that.” Loving the way you suckle on the tip, going down with a slow pace. 

  You close your eyes, the weight of his fat dick is heavy on your tongue. Heavy, but perfect. The taste is salty and bitter, with a hint of sourness. Moaning around his girth at the praise, you decide to try and take him deeper. Wanting—no—needing to hear your dad praise you in that sweet tone. Nails digging into his plaid pajama pants, you gag loudly, the tip hitting the back of your throat. Jerking your head back to cough and catch your breath.

  “Good job baby, daddy's so proud of you. Who knew you could take it like a champ?” Tugging your hair back to make you look at him, he ravages your lips, sliding his tongue into your wet cavern. Kissing you until your lips are swollen. With each and every whine, his manhood twitches. 

  He knows he shouldn’t be thinking about Mary at a time like this, but god, your lips felt the exact same as his wife’s. Shouldn’t even be comparing you to your mom. If anything, it makes the dark, fucked up part of his mind have the need to ruin you in a way a daddy mustn't do to his offspring. You are his daughter, he knows he would treat you better than any other guy would. You are his princess, the apple of his eye, his whole world that he is clutching onto with every fiber of his being. 

  Your hands grab onto his shoulders, arching your back and pressing yourself towards him and the cushions. “Dad,” you swallow down his spit, heaving after an intense make out session. “Please touch me daddy, please.” Saliva dripping down to your chin, mixed in with his precum, and blown out “fuck me” eyes are currently being ingrained into James’s psyche. 

  Groaning, his hands being to traverse over your chest, taking his time to truly admire you. Eyeing you up and down, he mumbles praises, as his eyebrows pinch upwards slightly. “Stand up for me,” giving your tit a squeeze, his eyes following the movements of your body. Resting at your waist, he plants kisses across your sternum. Teasing you into thinking that he’s going to immediately latch onto your nipples. 

  “Where do you want my hands honey? Show daddy where you need him the most.” Making his way to your breast, deliberately avoiding your areolas. Worrying your skin as he flickers his gaze from your face, down to your chest. 

  Grasping him, leading them towards your underwear. “Right here daddy,” your voice is soft and airy, giving the illusion that you are innocent. When in fact, you are the complete opposite of it. It's sort of like a roleplaying thing for you.

  James finally starts to lick and suckle on your stiff peak, switching between the two until they are puffy and red. Dancing around the waistband, groaning when you tug on his hair. “So impatient, baby,” he grips the fat of your hips, moving you closer to him. “Sit on daddy's lap.” 

  You do as he says. The wet, lukewarm saliva and cum mixture paints an inch or two of your skin. Shivering as his breath fans over your sensitive and wet nipples. Perching like a pretty princess on his lap, holding onto daddy to seek comfort. To retain all of his love, care, and attention. 

  Swiveling your hips down, wanting so badly to reach in-between the space of your bodies, and lay his cock down. “Dad,” you gulped, “touch me please. Please, please, please—” Trailing off into a mewl. Eyes fluttering into his tired green eyes. 

  Your dad's thumb presses against your mound, before cupping it. Letting out a low moan at how wet you are. Just for him. Because of him. And that inflates his ego and makes his heart swell up with pride. Mary never let him do anything like this to her. Only wanting to make love, slow and soft. 

  His middle finger presses against your slit, spreading your lips with the fabric. Taking in how chubby your pussy is. Pulling the waistband up, forming an exaggerated camel toe. “You like how I'm touching you, hm?” 

  Whining, you rock your hips down once his hand returns to it's spot. Looking down at what he's doing to your cunt, makes you clench down on nothing. James's tired, glossed over eyes flicker back and forth from your face and to his hand. His other one is holding you up, splayed across your lower back. 

  “So pretty,” he mumbles against your skin, leaving kisses where your ribcage is splitting into two. Sighing, he slips the damp fabric to the side and leans back. Biting his lip once he sees the clear strings of slick connecting you to the garment. The sight of your naked body over his lap, wet for him, is what really snaps this into reality for him. 

  Bashfulness is painted all over you as your thighs quiver against your dad's. Making yourself smaller and begin to cover up from instinct. James doesn't stop you as he presses his thumb to your wet folds, groaning and bucking up, drawing a gasp from you. Rubbing circles into your clit with ease, adding pressure with each swipe. 

  “Mmph, dad, daddy, daddy, dad! Oh please…” 

  Hearing your whines and moans bouncing off the walls and into his ears, makes it feel like it's a song. A song only he can hear and play. With the instrument being your body. 

  “You ready?” James pats your glistening lips softly. The squelching fills the silence as you reel your mind back into place. 

  “Yes, yes, yes, ‘m ready,” you dip down and press your lips frantically upon his own. Slipping your tongue in and basking in the fuzzy, warm feeling. Letting go of your embarrassment, you tangle your fingers into his hair. Hips twitching forward as he notches the blushing head against your opening. Easing you into the feeling of something bigger than your fingers entering you. 

  Suckling on your tongue, he gently pushes you down on him. Not wanting to hurt you and make you cry out like that. If you're going to be crying, it better be because daddy's making you feel real good. “You okay? Does it hurt, baby?” He's massaging your hips, trembling with desperation. Absolutely needing to pound that tight hole into the ground. 

  Your mouth is open in a silent moan, tugging on the strands that  are in his scalp. “Mhm.. hurts a little bit,” grinding down, taking more in at your pace. Until he's nestled deep into your wet pussy, grazing the womb. Jumping at the sensitivity. 

  Shallowly, James thrusts up into you. Placing his forehead on your collarbones. Groaning out sweet little praises, telling you how brave you are for taking his dick. Anything and everything coming out of his mouth, with the thought of what sounds the dirtiest and loving things to say. The need of fulfilling your expectations of how good and how sexy it all is. 

  He hasn't had sex in awhile, the only thing he remembers is his fist. But that doesn't even compare to you, at all. And you begin to chase the fullness he provides you. Humping down into his thighs, pussy so wet it's running down to his balls. 

  “Such a good girl,” he moans, all breathy. Leaving your hips to play with your chest. Tweaking your puffy nipples and squeezing the fat of them, before he puts his mouth into play. “Taking daddy so deep, making a whole mess out of yourself. Right?”

  Keening, you push your chest further into his face. His other hand that isn't preoccupied goes down to the swell of your ass and slaps it. Pulling away and pressing his thumb down on your clit. Feeling you flutter around his girth and watching your eyes roll into the back of your head. 

  “Dad, please—more!” Bumping your nose into his forehead, breath all hot and fanning across his skin. Adding more sweat and tension to the palpitating air. Your panties sticking uncomfortably to your skin. Creating an absolute puddle on his lap. Drenching his pajama pants with your arousal. 

  Being greedy in the way he is treating you with such care and love, digging your nails deep into his shirt. Bouncing up and down like you own his cock. Like a slutty little porn star making incest videos. If you were to post it on there, nobody would bat an eye, thinking you are lovers or co-stars. 

  “Shit, baby,” he grunts, pulling you down and making you take it. Keeping the pace he wants to go at. Sloppy and irregular, threatening to spill deep inside of you. “Can I cum inside of you please? Let daddy fill you up, please honey.” Whining at how sensitive he is becoming. He isn’t as energetic as he used to be. Can’t last too long.

  “Yes, yes, yes!” Opening your eyes straight away, you gape into his eyes. Moaning into his mouth, squeezing him tighter than ever before. The stuttering of his thrusts and his thumb rubbing your clit so diligently, pulls you over the edge. Soon after, James follows suit, pumping you to the brim as you ride out your orgasm. 

  “Daddy!” You scream out, holding onto him for dear life. Creaming all around him, squeezing his fat dick for all he's worth.

  “So beautiful,” groping your thighs as you tremble atop. Clinging to daddy as always. “Sweetheart, hold on. If you give me a few minutes, we… we can keep going.” Pressing soft kisses on your cheekbones, dragging his tongue down to that soft spot. The one where you squeal and get extremely ticklish. Adoring how your heartbeat rises up dramatically when he sucks on it like a Werther’s Original.

  And you stay nestled on his softening cock, rope after rope of his spend shooting up into your womb. Feeling so stuffed, you're sure your belly is protruding just a bit. The milky liquid bubbling out of you and pooling on his pelvis.

  “Dad,” you whimper, rolling your hips down. “Are you going to marry me when I get pregnant?” Tucking your face underneath his jaw. The jumps of his manhood and his hips as you ask that question, forces soft noises to exhale from your throat. 

  Petting your hips, he groans lowly into your ear. “I- I don’t know, hun.” Digging his nails harder into your skin, too pussy whipped to even be in the correct state of mind. “Would you want me to?” Whispering against your neck, sucking small hickeys to ease the sensitivity of you wiggling around on his length. 

  “Uhuh, want to stay with daddy forever,” mindlessly bouncing, ignoring the whimpers coming out of his puffy kissed bruised lips. “Please? Want you s’bad dad, pump me so full that I can’t walk.” And it’s flooding his mind of you swollen with his babies, being the perfect mommy as he spoils you with love and attention. Taking care of your every need, carrying you around because his baby girl deserves it. He deserves to have a proper wife, proper family. A wife who won’t catch a damn disease. 

  The squeezing of your gummy walls, is wringing another orgasm out of him. In a flash, he pounces on you, pushing you flat on the cushions. Folding you in half as he begins to fuck you harder and faster than before. Plap, plap, plap, his balls hitting your ass as you begin to claw at him. 

  Ignoring your cries, he humps you with the intention of fulfilling his fantasy. One that Mary could never begin to achieve. Breath coming out fast, gusting across you. Keeping his hands underneath your knees, pinning you down with his weight. Eyes trained on the faces you’re making, his pelvis making contact with your clit, so perfectly. “Y’gonna take all of dad’s cum? Yeah?” Edging you on, moaning into the kiss he drives. All teeth and spit. 

  Messy enough to coerce another toe curling orgasm, but this time it’s slow and syrupy. Leaving you cockdrunk and pliable to his every need and want. Your thighs squish against his neck, creaming so much it’s forming a ring at the base of his cock. Cunt too tight, about to cut the blood flow, causing him to feel lightheaded. 

  Being a babbly cutie beneath him, he whispers out some “Yeah?”, “You like that?”, “That right, baby?”. Watching you come to tears, sobbing for daddy. Head dangling around identical to the way a lasso whips around, no thought behind those eyes. Closing his eyes tightly to hold onto the pleasure he is receiving from your wet pussy. Already addicted to it, deciding he’s going to make some father-daughter time happen every single day. Take you out shopping, just to pound you in the dressing room. Buying all the clothes that he humped you in. 

  “Ohh… I’m going to cum,” he growls, his hips faltering. “Mhmm… god, I’m cumming in my daughter’s wet hole. Fuck, Mary forgive me, please.” Trailing off into a high pitched mewl, dropping down on you. Gently fucking his cum deeper into that womb, painting your insides white. 

  As it starts drooling out, he stays put. All that exercise really winded him out. “Honey, dad really loves you.” Planting sweaty kisses across your cheeks. Faintly hearing a response back. “Let’s go to sleep. Can’t have you sleeping out here, daddy will keep you warm all night long in his bed.” 

  Leaning back on his haunches, he pulls out. Fluttering cunt oozing out his spend, sheer white plastered everywhere in your nether region. His chest swells up with satisfaction, knowing that he was the first and last one to dump his load into that needy cunt. Picking you up and making his way to the master bedroom. 

[princesssmars]

thinking of soft yearning at the lodge with sam. sfw.

you walk through the dark halls quietly, not wanting to wake anyone with your silly slippers hannah bought for you for christmas. which was in a few days but she was never the most patient. just for that her crackers will be spared.

it’s around two in the morning when your stomach decides to be a bitch and tell you to raid the washington lodges pantry for snacks.

after spending so much time in the lodge the environment rarely effects you, beating winds and banging trees drowned out by your gentle humming on the way to your task as you finally make it to the kitchen.

the tile is cold even through your slippers while rummage the pantry, passing through the snacks and food everyone bought for the stay while your stomach quietly rumbles. you settle on somebody’s trail mix as you close the wide pantry doors, but you nearly jump out of your skin when someone is standing right in front of you.

“jesus christ, samantha!”

she grimaced as she held her hands up, automatically trying to calm you down and apologize. “oh my gosh i’m sorry, i thought you heard or saw me behind you-“

“behind me? yknow sometimes i forget how sneaky you are because of those weird gymnastics you took a few years back.”

“yeah yeah, whatever.” she snorts and rolls her eyes as she lightly pushes past you to get to the pantry. you hop up on the island counter behind her, stuffing your mouth with the salty pretzels and peanuts from the bag while sam idly searches for…whatever.

she grips both of the doors with her hands as she rocks back on forth on her feet while browsing and you subtly let your eyes glide over her exposed arms. it’s not your fault she looks good in a tank top.

“ugh, josh forgot to get my veggie straws again.”

“want some of chris’ trail mix? he won’t kick my ass if both of us eat it. maybe i can wake ash up for a bite.”

she laughs before picking up a random box of crackers (not hannah’s, of course) and pushing away with a sigh as she closes the doors of the pantry yet again. she pops a cracker in her mouth and chews only for a few seconds before rolling her eyes and spitting it out in the nearby garbage can.

"ugh, these are as hard as rocks," she scowls, tossing the whole box into the garbage. "god, i would kill for a burger right now. why did i go vegan again?"

"beeecause you love animals and are going to become a veterinarian?"

"oh yeah. forgot about that." the chill of the kitchen air suddenly feels amplified when she pads over to you and nudges your legs apart to stand in front of you. she wordlessly opens her mouth and waits for you to drop a pretzel inside, your eyes fixated on her lips while she chews.

“now i kjow we’ve definitely been here too long, you’re starting to act like mike.”

“hm? wha’dya’mean?” she asks through stuffed cheeks. your giggle at her behavior makes her laugh in return and rest her head on your chest as her arms wrap around your waist. you pull her into a deeper hug by wrapping yours around her shoulders and rest your head on the top of hers.

you sit in silence for a few minutes, content to just share body heat in the dim light of the kitchen as the wind and snow howls outside. your kind can’t think of what happened the last time you were cuddled together on a night like this only a year ago.

chris had sneaked up some wine from the cellar and before you knew it you and sam were plastered in her bed giggling and playfully pushing each other. until suddenly you were staring at each other, breaths mixing as you both inched closer and closer-

“hey, did you hear me?”

her question kicks you out of the memory, slightly shaking your head to reorient yourself to look down at her looking up at you. little strand of blonde hair are sticking out and you gently guide them back over her head.

“no, sorry. was just thinking. what’s you say?”

“i was just…you mentioned earlier that you’d got accepted to both davis and washington state. wanted to know if you picked one yet.”

“hmm no, i haven’t. why, you wanna be dumb freshmen together?”

“maybe, yeah. wouldn’t be so bad, right?”

it’s quiet again. your mind is mulling it over but also hyper focused on her still between your legs and looking up at you like you’re all she cares about tonight. maybe it’s the cold affecting your brain or just pure dumb hope but you swear you see her lean in just an inch-

“woah! yikes, my bad, guys.”

god, of course chris is also looking for something to eat at this hour. he awkwardly laughs as the two of you pull away from each other and start heading back, the man grunting when you shove the bag of trail mix into his chest. sam makes a shimmy movement with her hand until your fingers are entwined, the girl nearly dragging you back upstairs.

when you get to the end of the hall you plant your feet when you notice she’s dragged you to her room instead of escorting you back to yours. your heart flutters when she tugs you with a smile into the room before softly shutting the door.

“sam cmon, ‘m too tired to have a girls talk night.”

“that’s not why your here! i just,” she looks down and her thumb rubs over the back of your hand. you really hope she won’t notice the goosebumps traveling up your arm, even though you can blame it on the temperature. “i really wanna be close to your tonight. please?”

she doesn’t even need to ask, the both of you settling in under the covers before you can even think to deny her. your legs tangle and her arm immediately comes up to pull you closer as you get comfy, the pounding of your heart drowned out by the droopiness of your eyes.

so as you fall asleep you don’t notice the flush on sam’s cheeks, or the slight grip she has on your top before she tells your sleeping form ‘goodnight’ and places a soft kiss on your cheek.

[cheriladycl01]

Crash into my life - Lance Stroll x Civil Servent! Reader

Plot: You work in a fancy government job, pretty boring 9-5 but Lance Stroll and his insurance claim makes your job that little bit better

Your job wasn’t exactly fun, wasn’t exactly boring. It was one of those jobs that you’d got it at a young age and worked your way up through the ranks as you’d got better and better and because it was safe and something you were good at you stuck with it.

To keep it short and sweet you were a civil servant. Not like 007 kind of crazy stuff but you did work for MI6 in their fraud, tax and insurance department.

You basically took over insurance claims that were over a certain threshold and had to go through the government for … whatever reason whether they are a foreign National claiming in the UK or something.

Usually it was boring matters such as Chelsea Football Club claiming compensation for things as simple as water damages etc. You didn’t even really get to see anyone, you had the data and you analysed it against the scenario and hey presto you made your pay out.

Your favourite time of the year was winter. More claims came through and life was more unpredictable thanks to the whether. Delayed train into London St Pancreas? No tubes working so you have to make the 20 minute walk to your office building from the station. Slipping on ice, it was the only excitement you got in life which was honestly kind of sad.

For you it started at as a normal Monday. You woke up at 7am, brushed your teeth, got into a nice corporate appropriate outfit, got on the train, got a coffee from Pret before heading into your building.

That was your routine, and you didn’t often differ from it unless you had holiday booked. But working a 9-5 Monday - Friday often meant that you

But it felt like there was a different buzz today around the building like there was something going on.

When you all went into the morning briefing for the cases you’d get today, everyone was way too excited for 9am and the start of the day. You sat down next to your office buddy Shiv and looked around confused.

“What in earth is going on with everyone?” You ask looking over at Shiv who’s typing away on her laptop taking in information.

“Apparently there’s some really interesting cases to work on up for grabs today” she explains and you nod knowing once every blue moon some exciting things would crop up and have the whole office acting like kids on Christmas.

You’re all still waiting for the department boss to come in, joining in conversations about what could possibly be happening today.

“Ladies and Gents please take a seat for the meeting to commence. Thank you. Thank you” he offers smiling and everyone gets comfy.

“So we’ve got some exciting stuff today. I’ve formed a team to deal with the Train Networks Claim, that’ll be Shiv, Brayden and Ravi” he says and they all nod writing in their pads what tasks they’d have to do today.

He went through all of them apart from you, before dismissing the meeting. You were slightly confused and therefore packed up yours things a little slower than everyone else to see if you could stay behind and ask why you hadn’t been given an assignment.

“Y/N could you stay behind so I can talk to you for a moment” he asks and you nod, going to the end of the long conference table where he was stood.

“I like you, you’re young and learn quickly and I want you to progress more than you already have so I’m giving you a really important case. You’ll actually get to meet the said person affected, he’s … of high value so be considerate of your wording when talking to him. Alright thank you, here’s the case! Have a report to me by Friday” he offers and you nod happily. You take a seat opening up the material seeing the name of the claimer immediately.

Lance Stroll

You read through the facts, apparently he crashed his Aston Martin driving down the M1 to get to Silverstone into some sort of government van.

After analysing some of the data yourself, a knock comes on your office door from one of the younger interns.

“Erm, Y/N there’s two men in suits here to see you?” She asks rather than tells you, it wasn’t common for people to come in and out of the building due to the confidentiality of the work conducted here.

“Send them in please, but before you do ask them if they want anything. Tea, Coffee, Water” you smile and go back to reading another report from a police officer who was on the scene of the accident.

You watch as two men walk into your office space. One looking younger maybe the same age as you and one looking significantly older which you assumed was the dad.

“Good morning” you smile lightly before going back to some data on your computer. They took a seat, patiently waiting for you to address them.

Lawrence, who you’d just read about in the report who was indeed the father, cleared his throat as if to get your attention.

“Give me one minute Mr Stroll and I’ll be right with you” you smile, still nose in your computer.

“We’ve come all this way to the city centre to see you it would be appreciated if you didn’t waste our time” he huffs and even just from this reaction a bubbling of excitement started in you, just at the promise of actually seeing a client and talking to them in the flesh.

“I understand that, but I won’t be able to tell you much unless I see all the data” you say looking up at them through your glasses. This time you notice Lance and how he’s just sort of staring at you.

“Can I help you Mr Stroll?” You ask looking over him.

“No, I’m all good. Take your time” he smiles and you nod. In 5 minutes you believe you’ve combed through enough data to talk to them.

“This is awfully interesting I almost never get to see the people behind the claim” you smile happily and they both nod.

“Okay so so far from what I can see is there was a crash in your vintage Aston Martin that was for an event at Silverstone, the race track and that you got into a collision with a government van trailing a foreign national?” You ask.

“In short terms, yes … but” Lawrence tries to declare.

“And you weren’t present Mr Stroll” you say looking in the direction of the older man.

“No I wasn’t” he huffs out.

“Okay, then I will ask you to just step out my office while I get an account of the events from your son, if that’s alright with you. Just down the corridor there’s a waiting room there, help yourself to the food and drink in there” you smile hoping to butter him up a little to get him out.

“Alright” he says before taking his leave.

“Okay Mr Stroll lets…” you start but he interrupts you.

“Lance, please just call me Lance” he offers and you nod.

“Well Lance, it’s not … looking great” you start of slowly and he looks at you shocked.

“What do you mean? Your guys went into me?” He says raising his voice slightly and you give him a stern look that has him sinking into his seat.

“Don’t come into my office and raise your voice when I’m doing my best to help you!” You exclaim placing a pad in front of him.

“Sorry it’s just that my dad isn’t happy already that i totalled a car that was needed for race day” he sighs rubbing his temples.

“Ahhh so you’re an F1 driver. Or is it NASCAR because of the accent?” You ask and he looks shocked as if you were supposed to know who he was.

“Er F1” he offers and you nod.

“You any good?” You ask writing done some more notes as you watch the camera on the government vehicle as Lance’s car didn’t have one.

“Excuse me?” He chokes out and you couldn’t help but laugh a little.

“Well I mean im currently looking at your claims for a super car that you totalled and so I can’t help but ask if your any good” you tease and once he heard the tone he gets it and just rolls his eyes.

“Oh haha laugh it up” he says and you do.

“Im sorry but this is quite possibly the most fun I’ve ever had in this job. It’s rather boring most days so I’m just making the most of it” you smile and he smiles back.

“Okay I can see that they did in fact turn into you. And of course I’m here for the people. The issue is where your Canadian. I can pay out what the car was worth when you originally brought it, but 50,000 for the fact that it was an accident on our part” you say and he thinks for a moment.

“No” is all he says and you look over at him in shock.

“Sorry? What do you mean no, no is my final decision” you say crossing your arms.

“I would like to add something else to the 50,000 on top of the car value” he smiles and you nod, wondering what it could possibly be and admiring the boldness of his statement.

“Id like to take you out to dinner” he smirks and your head shoots up from your laptop.

“I- i cant do that… it’s not professional. I could get told off. I could loose my job.” you admit knowing that if people were to find out about your payout and think it was bad then they’d be asking questions to you.

“Oh come on it’s just dinner to say thank you for being so … helpful” he smiles leaning forward in his seat and you shake your head.

“Fine, dinner it is” you smile.

That was the start of something way bigger than just dinner.

y/user

Liked by lance_stroll and others

y/user: Work has been rather interesting lately 👀🏎️

View all comments

Comments have been limited on this post

lance_stroll: thank you for having another look for me 👍🏼

-> y/user: 🫣you’re welcome Mr Stroll

-> lance_stroll: you’re making me feel old ☹️

user: is that whose car I think it is bestie?

-> y/user: it sure is 🏎️

user: need to catch up soon babe, Pret tomorrow morning?

-> y/user: sure thing!

user: Civil Service < Serving Cu*t 🥰

Instagram Story Caption:

Back in the Office wiv Shiv 🌸

Taglist:

@littlebitchsposts @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @daemyratwst @lauralarsen @the-untamed-soul @thewulf @itsjustkhaos @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @summissss @gulphulp @starfusionsworld @jspitwall @sierruhhhh @georgeparisole @youcannotcancelquidditch @tallbrownhairsarcastic @ourteenagetragedy @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @eiraethh @curseofhecate @alliwantisadonut @dark-night-sky-99 @i-wish-this-was-me @tallrock35 @butterfly-lover @barnestatic @landossainz @darleneslane @barcelonaloverf1life @r0nnsblog @ilove-tswizzle @laneyspaulding19 @malynn @landosgirlxoxo @marie0v @yourbane @teamnovalak @nikfigueiredo @fionaschicken @0picels0 @tinydeskwriter @ironmaiden1313 @splaterparty0-0 @formula1mount

[axelsagewrites]

Robb Stark*Cant Catch a Break

Pairing: robb x f!reader

Word count: 1223

Warnings: making out, sneaking around, almost oral, handjob, getting caught, slight begging, teasing, horny desperate robb, angry mother

Masterlist Here

a/n: i promise i'll have some requests up soon i just am struggling with one of them the now so its taking me a bit plus christmas etc but enjoy some horny robb i wrote at 2 am

Ned and Catelyn had intrusted their eldest with the most important task ever. Babysitting the kids. As Robb waved goodbye to them as they drove out the driveway your headlights switched on a street back when you got the ‘they’re gone’ text. Hey, you had to seize the opportunity.

“Hey,” Robb grinned as he opened the door, deliberately leaning on the frame to show off his arms not that you were complaining.

“Hi,” you grinned back as you leaned up to kiss your boyfriend, ignoring the loud ew Arya gave as she walked past, “Do I not get to come in?” you pouted.

“I suppose you can,”

“Oh, you do?”

“Yeah,”

“On what conditions?”

“A kiss,”

“How about more than a kiss?” you teased as you kissed him again.

“You’re gonna be the death of me,” he mumbled against your lips.

“Whereas I’m going to kill myself if you two don’t get a room,” Jon grumbled as he walked down the stairs as Robb finally let you cross the threshold.

“Good idea Jon,” Robb smiled obnoxiously as he grabbed your hand, “You know where to find me. Now forget,” he said as he pulled you along up the stairs with him.

“Hey, you’re supposed to be babysitting!” Jon yelled.

“We’re not babies!” you heard Rickon yelling in the background as Robb pulled you into his room.

Usually in his snaps or video calls it was a mess but today it looked passable, “Oh you cleaned for me, how sweet,” you smiled as he closed the door, pushing your back against it as his lips dangled just above yours.

“What can I say? I’m a gentleman,”

You laughed as your hand snaked up to the back of his neck, “Its just a shame I don’t plan on acting very lady like,”

-

Usually, you loved Robbs siblings but if one more knocked on the goddamn door you may just combust. Sansa had come complaining about Arya hogging the tv which meant Arya then came to complain about Sansa being an ‘air head’ for watching reality tv which resulted in Robb going down to tell Jon to deal with it. Jon however had also been up about four times to ask dumb questions like where the batteries were or if you wanted any pizza put on or any other excuse, he could muster to ruins Robbs evening with a shit eating grin.

“Where were we?” Robb asked as he all but slammed the door after helping Jon figure out the oven.

He crossed the room to where you sat on the edge of his bed. His lips quickly found yours as he moved you to lay down on his bed. “This is better,” he teased as his lips moved to your jaw, kissing down your neck as his soft hands slipped under the thin fabric of your top which he’d tried to get off at least three times already.

As his hands cupped your tits, squeezing slightly making him groan against your skin there was a soft knock on the door. Robb groaned so pathetically you wondered if he’d cry, “What?” he called.

However, Rickon took this as come in which he did making Robb quickly shoot up to be kneeling over you as you fixed your top as Rickon pouted, “Its bedtime,”

“Goodnight little man. Close the door on your way out,”

“But story time,”

“Get Jon to do it,”

“But you always do it,”

“So, it’s his turn,”

“but you’re better at it,” Rickon whined, stamping his four-year-old foot with a pouted lip.

You sighed as you looked to Robb, “Cmon how long can it take?” you whispered.

Robb sighed as he looked down at you, “But we were gonna…you know,” your head turned to Rickon then back to Robb and the look you gave him was enough, “Okay fine, c’mon Rickie,”

“What were you doing on top of her?” Rickon asked as he padded out the room, Robb quickly behind him to tell him never to repeat what he saw with the promise of candy.

-

You were straddling his lap as his head rested against the headboard. you had finally ditched the t-shirt leaving you in a cute bra and skirt as you grinded against Robb’s painfully hard bulge through his strained sweatpants. Thankfully the sweatpants were the only thing left on him. His hands had moved under your skirt, grabbing your ass as you tugged on his curls making him moan into your mouth.

Your lips moved to his jaw, kissing down his neck, “What are you doing?” he half groaned as your hands roamed his abs as your lips moved to his chest, kissing all the way down his torso.

“Can’t say you haven’t earned it,” you grinned, shuffling back as your hand moved to palm him over the fabric of his trousers making his head roll back, “Unless you want me to stop,” you teased.

“Dear god don’t stop,” he groaned as your hands toyed with the hem of his waist band. “You wanna hear me beg? is that it?” he asked, his desperate eyes searching your teasing ones.

“Maybe, could be kinda hot,” you teased as your hand slipped under the fabric to take hold of his hard on making him moan softly. Your hand wrapped around it, stroking it softly, “I like it when you’re all desperate,”

“Fuck please baby. I really am desperate, so fucking desperate please,” he said as your hand sped up slightly.

You grinned as you leaned down, moving the fabric away painfully slow to reveal his hard cock already wet with precum. You leaned down to place a kiss to his tip, Robbs hand moving to rest on the back of your head as your tongue poked out to lick it when suddenly the door slammed open, banging off the wall as laughter rang out.

You shot up as Robb quickly pulled up his sweats and jumped out of bed, accidentally pushing you on your back in the process, “Bran I’m gonna fucking kill you!” Robb screamed as he chased his cackling brother down the hall as you scrambled to pull your top back on and run after him to stop murder.

As Bran bolted down the stairs, Robb soon after him, and you just reaching the top of the stairs the front door swung open to reveal a once happy looking Ned and Catelyn. Their faces first turned to shock as Bran ran into his mothers’ arms still grinning like a Cheshire Cat then to confusion, then you felt Catelyn’s eyes fall on you and then quickly turn to Robb in anger.

Meanwhile Ned put the pieces together slightly slower before muttering “poor kid,” under his breath as you quickly rushed down the stairs.

“I’m just gonna-“you said, pointing to the door which you were soon heading out of, “yeah. Bye Robb, bye guys,” Cat watched you leave with a fury and Ned with a sorry glance.

“Wait but-“ Robb said, trying to reach out but you gave him a sorry look as you left the house, hearing him sigh and go, “Aw man!” he said before muttering, “I can’t Catch a fucking break,” making Cat cross her arms and Robbs life suddenly flash before his eyes. One thing was for sure though. He was going to kill his brother.

General taglist: @strvngestark @headinfantasy @meg-ro @427120lxld @obx-josie18 @ravenmoore14 @tessakate @justtilly @jjkjbhj @clairacassidy @valeskafics

Game of thrones taglist: @mysunflowerspace  @xyinparadise  @nyotamalfoy @asgards-princess-of-mischief

Robb Stark taglist: @kimm4710

Taglist Sign Up Here

[watchmegetobsessed]

THE USUAL

A/N: i fell down a rabbithole of AI pics and this was inspired by those👀

WORD COUNT: 2.2k

SUMMARY: It's a slow day at the diner, everyone is in a post-Christmas haze. However yours clears up when your favorite stranger shows up, smug as always but this time some nasty bruises are all over his handsome face.

MASTERLIST | SUPPORT ME!

The days after Christmas feel like you’re just floating through the void. Nothing feels real, you have no sense of time and it’s all a blur.

This year you’re working on the 27th, most of your colleagues have families so you wanted them to have an extra day at home. All that’s waiting for you at home is your leftover takeout, unfolded laundry and reruns of Home Alone. Working at least gets you out of your cave.

It’s always a slow day, the diner is almost entirely empty, only a few of the regulars are occupying their usual spots by the counter or in their booth. It’s just you and Molly, the college girl waiting tables, she was keen on escaping her family as soon as possible after the holidays, and then Jeff is back in the kitchen probably playing on his phone, because it’s so dead here. 

You like to keep yourself busy even when there’s nothing to do. Wipe down the tables, rearrange the shelves, get rid of old receipts from behind the counter. In a weird way this place feels like a second home, you’ve spent most of your time here the past three years, working 50 hours a week usually. Of course you like to keep it clean and organized. 

You’re watering the plants when you near the booth in the corner and you can’t help but think of who usually occupies it. You can see his signature smile in front of you, the way his eyes follow your every move, his smooth voice is ringing in your ears as he greets you. You know so many tiny details about him, yet you know he is just a stranger. You know his name, his order, you know how you get butterflies in your stomach every time the bell rings above the door and you see him walk in, but nothing more.

He is a mystery. A very handsome one, might you add.

It’s been weeks since the last time he wandered into the diner, but still, every time a tall curly haired man walks inside, for a split second you think it’s him, as if you’re expecting him to show up. 

A family of four comes in around five so at least you have a table to tend, they order hamburgers and pancakes and you listen to the kids rave about the gifts they got from Santa. 

Once they leave you clean up after them and grab the trash to take out. You’re mindlessly humming the song that was playing inside as you drag the bags out to the back where the containers are. The lighting is not the best out here, you’re usually cautious when you step out after sunset, but somehow you’re too caught up in your thoughts to look around this time. So when you throw one of the bags into the container and a tall figure steps closer from somewhere next to it, you jump with a squeak.

“Not even a proper scream, Darling? What if it was someone else?”

Harry, your mysterious stranger walks over to you with a charming smirk, his hands hidden in the pockets of his leather jacket. 

“Shut up, why were you hiding there?!” you scold him with a hand on your chest as you wait for your pulse to slow down. 

“Was just having a cig, no hiding.”

“Why didn’t you come inside?”

“Mm, I think I need the cold air right now.”

It’s only now that you notice the nasty bruise on the side of his face. A curl is kind of covering it, but it’s noticeably there and very likely fresh. There’s a cut too, obviously bloody and it hasn’t been treated. 

“Harry…” you breathe out as you step closer and without hesitation, you reach up, brush his hair out of his face to see his wound. The pad of your finger touches the cut and his face flinches the tiniest bit before he moves his head away, the smug look back on his face.

“Nothing to worry about.”

“You’re bleeding.”

“And you’re worrying,” he cheekily replies.

“What happened?”

“Just a bit of a disagreement,” he shrugs his shoulders.

Your gaze moves down his arms subconsciously, because somehow, deep down you know that if someone did this to him, there’s no way he didn’t fight back. And if he did, then his hands…

He notices you staring at his hidden hands and with a defeated sigh he pulls them out, revealing his bruised knuckles. 

“Nothing to worry about?!” you snap as you take his right hand, running the pad of your thumb over the dark red, purple and almost black marks gently. 

“It’ll heal. Not my first rodeo.”

It was supposed to be a joke, you see the smirk on his face, but it just bubbles anxiety in the pit of your stomach, thinking of all the times he ended up beaten up before. You feel silly for caring so much, it shouldn’t matter, but you can’t help it. 

“Hey,” he says, seeing the look on your face, his voice now soft and tender as his bruised hand takes yours. “I’m fine, really. I didn’t mean to worry you, that’s why I didn’t go inside.”

“Then why did you come here?”

You look him in the eyes as he hesitates before answering.

“Wanted to see you. I saw you through the window and decided not to go inside. I was about to leave when you came out.”

He sounds honest and you’re not sure what to think of his words. He gets into a fight, comes here to see you but then doesn’t come inside so you don’t see his wounds. Why did he come here? Were you his first thought?

“Let me clean that cut up,” you then say, ignoring the butterflies in your stomach that are now very much awake. 

“No need, Darling. I’ll be fine–”

“I know you’re a big boy and you’ll be fine on your own, but let me do this one thing so I’ll worry less about you.”

His lips press together into a thin line before he finally nods. He lets go of your hand and grabs the other trash bag you dropped when he came out of the dark, he throws it into the container and gestures for you to go inside, he’ll be following you. 

It’s still just as dead inside as before, so no one notices when you bring him into the restroom that’s for the staff. He closes the toilet seat and sits on top, watching you snatch the first aid kit from under the sink. 

“How was Christmas?”

He asks while you grab everything you need from the kit and angle his head so you see the cut clearly. It looks worse in the light, but you swallow down your theories of how he got it and just start to clean it.

“Fine. Quiet.”

“No big family get together?”

“No family,” you correct him with a straight face and you see the surprise on his face. He stays quiet for a bit before speaking up again.

“You spent it alone?”

“Yeah.”

“What about friends?”

“Don’t have many. I’m usually working. I like my colleagues but we’re not close enough to spend Christmas together,” you explain with a shrug, gently tapping a cotton ball drenched in alcohol on the cut, earning a hiss from him. His hand comes up to your hip out of instinct and you stop at the feeling of his fingers digging into your skin. His grip is firm and warm and it makes you think of how it would feel if you weren’t wearing your uniform. 

Your eyes lock with his for a second before he removes his hand.

“Sorry.”

You just shake your head, almost disappointed at the lack of his touch, but force yourself to return to the cut.

“So then spend Christmas with me next year,” he speaks up after a while, the corners of his mouth curling up in a cheeky grin.

“Sure,” you chuckle.

“I’m serious. We can have a feast, watch Christmas movies, anything you want.”

“Don’t you have anyone to spend the holidays with?”

“I’m usually with friends, but I would trade that in a heartbeat to be with you.”

Oh fuck, he is so smooth!

He is definitely turning you into a giddy little girl, as if he knew what to say to make you melt, but you try your best to mask just how much his words affect you. Shaking your head with a smile you just continue tending to his wound without a word. 

“Ow, she is silent, not a good sign,” he teases you as you put on a few butterfly bandages on the cut to help it heal prettier. “Did I say something wrong?”

“Nope,” you shake your head avoiding looking at him. “And you’re all done.”

You turn back to the sink, busying yourself with packing up the kit, but you see him standing up in the mirror and stepping right behind you, so close that if you leaned just a tiny bit back, you’d bump against his chest. 

“Y/N, would you look at me with those pretty eyes, please?” he asks and you have to take a deep, shaky breath before forcing yourself to look up and meet his gaze in the mirror. He brings his face down a bit, so his cheek brushes against the side of your head and you finally give in. 

Moving your weight back you lean against him and his arms curl around your waist instantly, as if he’s been waiting for this all along. His embrace is welcoming, warm and you fit into his arms perfectly. 

“Thank you,” he murmurs, his eyes never leaving yours in the mirror.

“It’s just a few bandages,” you whisper.

“No, not for that. Thank you for caring, Y/N.”

Your knees would probably give up if he wasn’t holding you up. His words sink into your mind and burn into your memory forever. Even if you never see him again, you’ll remember this moment for the rest of your life, how he just made you feel, how the connection felt unbreakable and irresistible.

Not able to speak, you just let yourself sink further in his hold, turning your head a bit so his lips meet with your forehead. You’re not sure if they just brush against your skin or he kisses you, you’re burning up way too much to decide but whichever it is, it’s just drawing you even closer to him.

His hands move to your hips and he gently turns your body until you’re facing him, wedged between him and the sink. His eyes find yours again and you imagine a thousand possible things that could happen right now. Yet, when he opens his mouth, the words still surprise you.

“I care about you too.”

Your lips part and you suck on your breath. Maybe it’s his charm, maybe it’s the force pulling you towards him or maybe it’s how long you’ve been on your own, but you feel so weak yet so courageous in this moment. His eyes flicker down to your lips and you know what’s about to come and you are so ready–

“Y/N? You in there?”

Molly’s voice is coming from outside with a knock on the door, completely shattering the moment.

“Yeah,” you call out. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s just that woman, Jo, I think? She’s here and she only wants you to take her order.”

Jo is a regular and she always insists on having you as her waitress, because she thinks only you know how to put her order in right. You do nothing differently, but she doesn’t know that.

“I’ll be out in a minute.”

You wait until you hear her footsteps go down the hallway. Harry moves back just enough so that he is not pressed up against you anymore and he runs his thumb over his bottom lip while you put the first aid kit away.

“I need to go back.”

“I know,” he smiles at you. “Is my booth free?”

“Yes.”

“Good, I’m feeling quite hungry.”

His eyes return to your lips and you know he is not talking about the food right now and you wish to have just a little more time with him right now, but you need to go out. 

“You can’t come out from here,” you simply tell him. So when you step out of the restroom you turn him towards the back door and give him a push. You hear his chuckle, but he doesn’t protest, just walks out.

When you return Molly is eyeing you with suspicion and you wonder if she heard Harry’s voice in the restroom before knocking, but you ignore her and start stacking the glasses.

The front door opens, the bell rings and you don’t have to look up to know that it’s Harry.

“Good evening, ladies,” he greets you and you finally glance at him only to see that smug smirk on his face as he walks over to his usual booth and slides in. 

“I assume you’re taking him, right?” Molly asks with an arched eyebrow.

“Yeah,” you say, grabbing a menu even though you know what he’ll order and walking over to his booth with your notepad and pen you stop by the table and look at him, unable to hold back a smile. “What can I get you?”

“The usual, Darling.”

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!

[nanamis-princess]

Wait, since you're on your period.... Might as well write a fic of jjk period comfort fics? Pretty please?

They comfort you while your on your period: jujitsu kaisen edition

Genre: fluff!

Characters: nanami kento, Gojo Satoru, geto suguru, Shoko ieiri x menstruating reader

A/n: thank you so much for the suggestion! Requests are open and im working on them in the order I’ve received! Master list

Nanami Kento

he’s prepared a few days before you get it, restocked your pads/tampons along with panty liners

as many others think he does track your period for you, it started because of a pregnancy scare in the beginning of your relationship

he encourages eating whatever you’d like during that time of the month, you want that cake for breakfast? He’s going to get it for you before his shift or he gets it delivered if he’s working.

^^ although he doesn’t mind cooking for you and waiting for you on hand and foot either.

your laying on the couch with a book as you just took a nice warm shower when your phone dings. A text from kento “hello darling i order you something, it should be there shortly. I promise i will make this up to you, i feel awful for not being there. I love you i will be home as soon as i can” you smile at your phone before going to the door. A candle you told him previously about with your favorite snacks along with a bottle of ibuprofen.

Cringing at the cramps as you take your ibuprofen while the heating pad warms up, kento walks in your shared bedroom with the plate of cake along with the drink of your choice. You look up at him with admiration, his light blue sweater sleeves rolled up just below his elbows revealing the watch you got him for Christmas, his hair still intact from this morning just one small strand leaning to the side complimenting his face. Giving you a soft smile while holding the plate and cup for you as you sit back in bed. “You’re so pretty kento” you say looking up at him, he chuckles with a small smile on his face. “You’re pretty too my love” he hums as he leans into kiss your forehead.

Gojo Satoru

you guys must be synced together because he acts like a diva right along with you.

he is stocked on sweets though, you’ll never catch him lacking with sweets. He’s got strawberry candies in his nightstand, he always has some type of cake or bakery good in the kitchen from a local shop. He has a candy dish by the door.

he does become your little errand boy though, anything you need he’s getting it for you. Honestly you tell him to jump he’ll ask you how high. You have the strongest sorcerer wrapped around your finger

you guys have a self care evenings as many times as you want, he’s sitting at the end of your bed rubbing your feet facing the tv with under eye masks on. “Okay but why would she trust him? He’s obviously been hiding something and he doesn’t seem trustworthy” he shakes his head.

The smell of essential oils fills your nose as you lay on your stomach as you feel cold hands meet your skin “your hands are so cold” you huff looking to your side. He begins in slow motions on your upper back “your nice a warm” he hums rubbing gently. “This ones new, its mint i think it smells nice” Satoru hums continuing to rub along your back. You feel yourself getting a little sleep between then gentle rubbing and the heating pad on your tummy. Satoru has you roll over, he gently rubs the bottom of your belly, slowly working the cramps to simmer away.

Geto suguru

he’s very mindful of things like these, he’s the type of person to walk around his home seeing what is running low and put it on his shopping list. This habit came from taking care of the girls. So you never run out of period products.

will do anything you asks of him really but he makes note of the things that you dont want to ask for, the ones you just want him to know to do.

like gojo he will rub your cramps out and not let you lift a finger.

he got really into meal prepping so everything you eat is home cooked, he makes meals with ingredients that may help ease your cramps.

he brings you ginger tea and dark chocolate as a snack

His hands gently rub small circles on your back as you sit facing him in his lap, your head gently resting on his chest. The rhythm of his heart beat, the scent of his amber cologne and the touch of him rubbing your back could just make you curl up and fall asleep. Not to mention the heating pad between you both being the cherry on top. “You are making me sleepy” you whine looking up at him. “That’s a bad thing?” Suguru questions looking down at you. “Mhm” you just hum and before you knew it you drifted to sleep on him.

Shoko ieiri

you guys are both synced together. Twining fr

she gets hers a day before yours so shes the first to notice if you guys are running low on products

if one of you accidentally stains the sheets you rock paper scissors shoot to see who washes the sheets.

sometimes she gets clingy during the last few days of her cycle and feels bad for being clingy. She just wants to be all up on you. She does like when you lay on top of her, the weight of you soothes her.

prefers getting takeout over cooking, she’ll cook for you if that’s what you’d prefer

has a warm beverage in her hand almost all the time during her cycle. If you have to go to work she gets your lunch delivered

She rolls over to face you, her head gently rests on your chest and rubs the bottom of your tummy. Slowly and gently rubbing out the cramps as you both decide on a place to order dinner from. “I’ll go a get it when it comes but keep an eye on it” she mumbles while continuing to rub out the cramps. Ieiri looks up for a moment but not stopping her movements “I know its like healthy to work out during your period but like all i want to do is lay down” she said recalling that her time of studying. She nuzzles her face into your neck and giving it a quick kiss.

[julietifsheneverdied]

hiii can i ask something for james potter??

i’ll absolutely take anything you give meee

thank youuuu

YAYAYAY TY FOR THIS I HAD FUN!!!

GIFT GIVING 𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𓇼 ࣪ 𓈒ㅤׂㅤ⭒ james potter x reader christmas breaks spent at his house was the best thing you could do.

fluff | friends to lovers

━━━━ WHEN YOU woke up in the potter manor christmas day, you didn’t expect it to be because the three of your friends - james, sirius, and remus - had been violently shaking you awake for a long time.

the three greeted you with wide smiles, accepting the usual morning hug with the same wide smiles unmoved. you grabbed a sweater (who’s sweater it was, you had no clue - they seemed to show up randomly in your bags) and followed them downstairs to where james’s parents were waiting.

“good morning, everyone.” james’s mom greeted the four of you, pulling everyone in separately for a hug. she held you the longest, running her hand through your hair and kissing your head. you had always been her favorite (even if she didn’t say it).

“okay mom,” james huffed, “don’t hog my friend.” he reached for your hand and tugged you to him. you smiled at james and took the spot on the carpet next to him, and managed to miss the glance james’s mom gave his dad.

with the gifts handed out, you spent time with your dear friends opening every gift and have a special reaction for each. you relied heavily on “thank you” for a response to everything.

from james’s parents; you got new clothes and book and chocolate, from sirius and remus (who both did joint presents for everyone) you got new vinyls, and from james you got a bracelet.

he even assisted in putting the bracelet on, sending a fluster of butterflies rampant in your stomach. after gifts and putting them away, you ate brunch with everyone.

it was peaceful to spend christmas break away from hogwarts here, in the warmth of the potter manor beside your best friends. you had never once taking advantage of it, enjoying every second you stayed in this house.

now you sat, quiet and peaceful, in the room assigned to you this time and every other time, without anyone bothering you. for now, at least, no one was bothering you.

“hey,” james slid your door open (had he knocked?), “can i come in?” he carefully asked, looking like a wounded puppy walking in with wide eyes looking at you where you sat at the window.

“‘course james, c’mon.” you beckoned him over, patting the seat beside you. he took it without another thought, holding a second box in his hand.

“i got you something else, but i didn’t wanna give it to you downstairs. moony and pads would’ve lost it if i got you more than them.” he smiled lopsided and handed you the carefully wrapped gift.

you took it in your hands, it was light, (like you’ve said before,) wrapped with precision, and well-thought about. the wrapping paper wasn’t like the one james’s parents had - this one didn’t have snowflakes like that one, it was covered in hearts and hearts galore.

“james,” you gushed over the small box, “what is it?” you met his eyes, watching you with a misty layer resting over the brown irises you’d come to love.

“you have to open it to find out, you idiot.” james scoffed, flicking your forehead carefully (god forbid he ever actually hit you and inflicted pain).

you tore through the wrapping paper, smiling at the clearly handmade necklace that had his initials and was in his favorite color.

when you looked back up to gush over the beauty (rather than the box this time), you found james fishing under his shirt to pull out a necklace just like yours - your initials and your favorite color replacing his on your version.

“james,” you were at a loss for words, “help me put it on?” you held out the necklace with such delicacy. you’d never want to break it before you even got to wear it.

he did, and you let it hang above your shirt. you were too busy smiling down at where his initials reached on your chest to see him smiling at you.

“do you like it?” he was careful as he spoke.

“of course i do!” you gasped, “it’s beautiful. did you make it?” you smiled at him now (much to his delight) with a fond look in your eyes that had his heart warm and beating faster than normal.

“yeah, i thought you’d like it i guess.”

“you know me so well.” you hummed.

there wasn’t much else to be said now, your legs had found themselves (at some point, somehow,) intertwined with james’s legs on the cushions of the windowsill, looking out it.

at least you were, james had his eyes solely trained on you. warmth filled him despite where he sat beside the cold glass window.

maybe it was you, he noticed, your vibrant personality that shone above everyone else’s, your kind smile and caring actions towards people you didn’t even like - you had mean bones, but you had more kind ones.

he decided then that that’s why he was so warm - you. you kept him warm and happy, and maybe that’s all he wanted.

“it’s now or never.” lily had told him, one day when he was seeking solace on what to do regarding the ever piling feelings he had towards you. he liked you, and god did he need to tell you before it was too late.

“can i… can i tell you something?” he hesitated, suddenly his hands were clammy and his heart was (if possible) beating faster minute after minute. it caught your attention what he said, and you looked away from the snowy landscape in front of you to see his eyes drilling into yours.

“mhm, of course.” you smiled. it was your smile that made him realize how badly he needed to tell you.

“i like you,” he sighed, “well i think i love you, but i know i like you. and not in a friendly way, i really really like you.” james wasn’t looking into your eyes anymore, his hands were much more interesting it seems.

“it’s fine if you don’t like me back,” he started.

“well if you had given me a second james you’d know i felt the same way, you idiot.” you were smiling wider, and james saw you in a different light.

no longer were you the quietly charming first year, or pranking second year, or focused third year. you weren’t even the calm and charming fourth year you were last year - you were james’s first love, a beautiful and loving fifth year.

“really?” he spoke breathlessly, looking to you for any signs of lying or joking. when you nodded, and reached out for his hand, he knew. and it made so much more sense.

“cmon, it’s cold over here.” you had his hand in yours, and you brought him to the messy bed. he sat in front of you, your back facing the pillows behind you.

you were too busy wrapping james into a hug and pulling his head to rest comfortably on your chest to notice sirius and remus peeking through.

“about bloody time.” sirius used his foot to kick the door wider open, letting himself in with remus following - obviously scolding the dark haired boy.

“no matter, moony, it’s alright.” you smiled, waving them over. there was plenty of space.

and so the four of you, together, spent the rest of the morning and a good chunk of the evening on your bed in the potter manor. maybe it was because you were fifteen, and had so many fears surrounding growing up, but you would’ve traded anything to spend even another minute where you sat that day.

you were happy, james was happy, sirius was happy, and remus was happy. it was all you needed.

MAIN MASTERLIST — REQUESTS ARE OPEN — HARRY POTTER MASTERLIST

authors note; hi guys listen my tumblr is being weird so FOR NOW i can’t link stuff to the masterlists I AM FIGURING IT PUT I PROMISE

- juliet ⋆♆.˚

[thefatedthoughtofyou]

{ This is my little gift for you all! I had to do something! So i wipped this up toot sweet!!! I hope you all have a good Holiday Season!!!! }

🎄🎁🎄🎁🎄🎁🎄🎁🎄🎁🎄🎁🎄🎁🎄🎁🎄

Eddie's not sure why he lied. Told the party, Hopper and Joyce, and Steve, that he couldn't stay for Christmas. He'd gotten everyone gifts. Brought them all to the house. Steve had rushed out the door when Eddie was struggling to grab them all, like he'd been watching out the window for Eddie to arrive or something.

Steve's warm smile and laugh as he steadied Eddie on the sidewalk, and unloaded several boxes into his own arms, had made Eddie's stomach all swishy. But he'd walked through the door, into the, very loud, house. He'd seen everyone. All of them shouting hello's and asking for presents and telling him where to put things and what they were eating and what time.

Eddie's chest felt tight. He didn't know why. He hadn't even smiled at any of them, except maybe Steve, he couldn't remember. But he'd set the gifts down, cleared his throat and the words had tumbled out of his mouth.

"Sadly gremlins. I cannot stay. Wayne just got home from his shift at work. They finally let them have a Christmas off. And I promised we'd do a nice quiet Christmas, just the two of us." And he unceremoniously ran for the door, the disappointed sounds of the house full of his friends following him as he ran, his heart pounding. He thought he might have heard Steve tell him to wait, but he couldn't. He ducked out the door, nearly slipped on the ice on the stairs and booked it down the sidewalk before scrambling into his van.

Steve was standing on the pourch when he chanced a glance that way as he was backing out, his arms wrapped around himself to fend off the cold. He raised his hand, waving at Eddie as he drove away.

He could feel the tears coming before he managed to get back to the trailer park. His vision swimming. He wiped at his face and slowed down a bit. It had started snowing again, big fluffy flakes falling down. He pulled up to the trailer, it's windows dark, the way he'd left it after Wayne had gone to work, and he'd headed out to Hopper and Joyce's house.

He slammed the van door and stood standing in the falling snow, looking at the empty trailer, tears falling down his cheeks.

"You're so fucking stupid." He hissed at himself, turned, kicked his tire several times and yelled before stomping up the steps and ducking inside.

He kicks his shoes off, yanks his clothes off, struggles into his pajama pants and his ratty comfy old Dio shirt and crawls into bed. He hadn't turned on one light in the trailer. Preferred to do his self loathing in the dark.

He doesn't know how long he lays there, crying into his pillow, listening to the wind and the light patter of chunky snowflakes hitting his window. But he barely hears the knock. He sniffles, lifts his head, waits.

Two knocks. Gentle but insistent.

His chest tightens but he tosses his blanket off and pads slowly to the door. His hand reaching out as two more knocks hit the door. He bites his lip and turns the small lock, pulls the door open to find exactly who he knew he'd find.

"Steve." His name. That's all he can manage right now. He's so tired.

"Hey." Steve responds, looking up at Eddie from the second step of his porch. There are snowflakes in his hair and his eyes are bright as he looks at Eddie, he's got a look on his face Eddie can't decipher right now.

"Are you okay?" Steve ask, blurts really, his hands shoving into his pockets, shoulders bunching around his neck. And oh. Nervous. Steve is nervous.

"I'm fine Steve. Just-" he sighs, deeply, covers his face with his hands and groans.

"You don't seem fine. And- and Wayne's clearly not here. And you just ran, man. What- what's wrong?" Steve had stepped up the last step, moved toward Eddie. Eddie missed his hands reaching out and dropping back down. But he didn't miss Steve pressing into his space. He could feel the warmth of Steve's chest against his arm, tears welling in his eyes again.

"I don't know." He whispers into his hands, before dropping them and looking at Steve, finally, his face wet.

"Hey. It's okay. Let's- can we go inside, you're gonna freeze." Steve's hands land on his shoulders, in comfort, and question, and guide him inside when Eddie nods.

Steve kicks his wet shoes off and grabs the blanket from the back of the couch. He wraps it around Eddie and then sits them both on the couch, their knees gently pressed together. His hands soothing over Eddie's arms. The comfort just makes Eddie feel like crying more. He shivers, fights the urge to  push Steve's hands away.

"Tell me what's going on in your head Ed's." Steve says, his voice quiet and soft.

"It was just... too much." Eddie shrugs, doesn't look up at Steve, just stares into his lap. He hears Steve sigh.

"I get that. Everyone in one place is definitely a lot." Steve moves his hands down, curls his fingers over Eddie's hands.

"I've never had that." Eddie admits, looks up at Steve then, finds his eyes wide and open and waiting.

"It was always me and my mom. Or me and Wayne. Sometimes my dad but he always disappeared at some point and no one really missed him." Eddie shrugged. Steve nodded, squeezed his hands.

"I don't know why I lied I'm sorry." Eddie's throat feels tight again, his voice tilting into a whine.

"Hey it's okay. You don't have to be sorry. It's okay. Come here." Steve grabs Eddie, pulls him agaisnt his chest. It's awkard, the angle, but it feels safe. Steve always makes him feel safe. Eddie takes a few deep breaths, breathing in Steve, his face smooshed against his deep red sweater.

"Did everyone like their gifts?" Eddie asks, he feels Steve laugh and then he's leaning back, letting Eddie sit up to look at him.

"What makes you think they opened them?" Steve gives him a look. Eddie gives him one right back that makes him laugh again.

"Yeah they loved them. Mike tried to touch Erica's without asking and she smacked him. She's gonna be busy painting those for awhile." He smiled at the memory.

"Oh. And you made Nancy cry. She didn't even know you knew Barb. Where'd you even get that picture?" Steve asked, smiling. Eddie sighed.

"I didn't know her super well. She was in my theater class two years in a row though. We did a skit together. A Shakespeare thing. Our teacher said her calm manner was the only one in class that could offset my manic energy." Eddie laughed, remembering how Barb had smiled at him when their teacher had said that.

"She was always nice to me. Even when people called me a devil worshiper. She never cared, or believed that, I don't think." Eddie shook his head.

"Anyway, one of the girls in stagecrew took the picture, it was during rehearsals. We were just goofin off." He shrugged again. Steve reached out, took his hand.

"She loved it Ed's. It was perfect. You uh, you're quite the gift giver." Steve says, a small smile creeping over his features.

"I like giving gifts." Eddie says, keeps his eyes on their hands as Steve's thumb moves over his skin, gentle and warm.

"Did you-" Eddie clears his throat.

"Did you open yours?" He asks, his teeth digging into his lip. Steve mirrors him, and then drops his head, looks up at Eddie through his bangs.

"Yeah. How long did it take you to make it?" He asks, his fingers twitching agaisnt Eddie's.

"Not as long as you'd think probably. Finding the right patches took the longest." He shrugged again, aiming for nonchalance.

"Mhm. And you left room for more. You'll have to sew them on for me if I find some. I don't know how to do that." Steve ducks his head again, trying to get Eddie to look at him.

"I could teach you how. It's not hard really, once you figure it out." Eddie looks up then, giving Steve a reassuring smile.

"Mhm. That could be nice." He squeezes Eddie's hand again and guilt shoots through Eddie. He scrunches his face as Steve looks at him.

"What? What's that face for?" Steve laughs.

"I finished your vest months ago." He blurts, his hands starting to shake in Steve's grasp.

"Oh." Is all Steve says, because he doesn't get it. He doesn't understand why that's a problem. Or a secret. Or whatever it is. But now that Eddie's said it, he can't not tell him why. Can't stop his mouth from telling Steve the things he's shouldn't tell him.

"I was afraid to give it to you." He says, Steve tilts his head to the side, looking like a fucking lost puppy with those fucking eyes of his.

"Why?" He finally asks when Eddie just stares at him.

"Because. I knew if you saw it. You'd know." Eddie says, his shoulders drooping.

"Know what?" Steve asks, Eddie's feels his hands clench, just barely. Eddie sighs, takes a deep breath, lets it out again.

"How I feel about you." Eddie says, in a sort of rush, and then his mouth really gets going.

"So ya know I figured, Christmas. That would solve it. I could give it to you at Christmas, when everyone gives gifts, that's a normal, friendly thing, to do. And I figured ya know, in a crowd, that it would be less... intimate? And maybe it wouldn't feel, so much... like what it so fucking clearly is. But I ruined that too. Cuz I fucking ran. And I didn't even get to see you open it." His hands flail out of Steve's grasp, and he stands, starts pacing.

"And maybe that's for the best. That I didn't see it. That might have made it worse. Seeing your gut reaction, not a reaction after the fact, that you had time to rehearse. Cuz if you actually hated it. And I saw that. God that would have been embarrassing. Here's me just fucking, declaring my love for you on a fucking peice of painstakingly perfected fabric and then there you would have been, opening it in front of everyone! Oh my god why did I think this was a good idea? This was so stupid. I'm a fucking idiot what the fuck was I- whoa what are you-" Eddie's words die in the air as Steve grabs him and yanks him to his chest, his fingers curled into Eddie's shirt, their chests pressed together firmly.

"Stop. Talking." Steve says, his mouth a crooked line as he smirks at Eddie.

"What?" Eddie asks, brows furrowed. Steve closes his eyes, shakes his head.

"You're ridiculous." He huffs, opens his eyes.

"I didn't hate it. Eddie. I'd never hate anything you made for me. But especially not that. I loved it." He breathes, leaning closer, just a fraction, Eddie can feel his breath ghosting over his skin. Steve's face hardens from the fond look into something more serious. He licks his lips. Takes a breath.

"I love you." He says, his hands uncurling and pressing flat against Eddie's chest, surly he can feel Eddie's heart pounding. Eddie nods.

"I love you too. Like a lot. Like it hurts sometimes how much. Does that make sense?" His face scrunches, Steve presses closer, slowly closing the small distance between.

"It makes perfect sense to me." He whispers agaisnt Eddie's lips, and kisses him. He hums into Eddie's mouth when Eddie gasps and scrambles for purchase on Steve's back.

Steve pulls back and brushes his nose against Eddie's. Resting his forehead against his as they breathe in each others air.

"Come back to the party. You can stay in your jammies." Steve whispers between then, giving Eddie's hips a squeeze. He squirms, further into Steve's grip.

"My jim jams." Eddie whispers, almost laughing.

"Mhm. Wanna spend Christmas with you. Was kinda really looking forward to it." Steve is still whispering. Eddie pulls back, shocked, for some reason.

"Really?" He asks. Steve bites his lip and nods.

"Yeah. Of course. Plus," he dips forward, presses a chaste kiss to Eddie's lips, because he can now.

"You've got gifts to open Mister." Steve smiles at him, tucks a strand of his hair behind his ear.

"Aww really. Gifts for lil ol me?" Eddie teases, but he feels his chest grow warm.

"Yeah. And if the party gets too much just tell me, and me and Rob and Nance will yell at everyone to shut the hell up." Steve shrugs, kisses Eddie's cheek.

"Yeah. Yeah okay. I'll get my coat." Eddie nods, untangling himself from Steve. Steve lets him go, but smacks Eddie's ass as he's walking away. Eddie yelps, jumps, and rubs at his butt as he walks down the hall.

Steve drives them back, carefully in the still falling snow. Eddie's sure Hawkins has never been so beautiful as it is right now. Eddie sitting in Steve's car, quiet Christmas music playing through the speakers as Steve takes them back to a house full of people who love him, and missed him, and want him there. Eddie watches the snow fall, tightens his fingers where they're laced with Steve's, and decides maybe Christmas isn't so bad after all.

[rustedhearts]

“what’s wrong?”

steve’s socked feet pad over the rickety floorboards of the bedroom. he hesitates on the floorboard that wobbles and it groans. he creaks the rest of the way to the edge of the bed. you’re watching the curtains billow in the breeze.

“i don’t feel right.”

the bed dips behind you. steve’s hand smooths over the blankets on your hip. you’ve been in here all day and it’s starting to get dark. the green of the walls turn blue in the evening tint.

“yeah? what doesn’t feel right, baby?”

he’s whispering. like he’s afraid to wake the room that seems so still. other than the curtains, of course. the curtains that wave with the cold. steve figures you must be cold, too. nose bared to the breeze, limbs sheltered under the comforter.

the house was quiet when he got home. just how he left it.

his hand continues to move in circles on your hip. you barely feel it.

“dunno,” you mumble. “everything, i guess.”

steve eyes the room again. the streak of light over the lump where your feet are. the glass of orange juice he left on your nightstand this morning—still full. the pill container. your watch, not on your wrist but resting in the jewelry dish across the room.

“are you cold, baby?” steve asks. he curls his hand over your hip and pulls. “hmm? let’s warm you up, yeah? doesn’t that sound good?”

don’t baby me, you always told him. i’m not a child. you don’t have to baby me—

but.

but sometimes, you needed a hand. sometimes, you needed to be ‘babied.’ though, it wasn’t being babied, was it? you weren’t a child. steve was only loving you, and allowing you to be vulnerable. the way you were when you were a child, that’s all. it doesn’t make you one.

but it’s that feeling, isn’t it? that helpless feeling that makes your skin crawl. because it reminds you. it makes you recall what you don’t want to anymore.

“yeah,” is all you tell him.

it’s a long walk to the bathroom. at least for you it is. for steve, it’s a breeze. he peels back the covers and scoops you up. he carries you to the bathroom and sets you on the edge of the tub, where he kneels on the plush mat in his jeans and turns the knob. the faucet squeaks. the stream of water beats into the basin of the tub.

steve uncurls your arms from your chest. carefully, like they’ll break. pulls the wilted t-shirt over your head, stands you up to wiggle down your sweatpants.

the warm water envelopes your feet and—it is nice, steve. you wish you could tell him aloud but you’re so tired. he understands, though. can see it in the droop of your shoulders when he rubs them with his warm, dry hand.

he pours a few caps of bubble bath in the water before he turned it off. it foams and clings to the tile, your knees, his hands. it smells like christmas. it feels like heaven. steve with his long fingers and big hands roaming your back, squeezing the hard, aching muscle.

he tips you over to him and kisses your head. your skin is damp from the heat. you let your head fall to his shoulder. he keeps it there and lathers those christmas bubbles all over your skin.

when he wraps you in the towel to take you back to bed, you realize he never even turned the bathroom light on.

he redresses you in clean clothes. his clothes. a henley that smells like his cologne and the cedar drawers of his dresser. a pair of plaid pants that feel like home. he rolls a pair of white socks over your feet with expertise and care.

“you warm now?” he asks, gently lying you back.

you accept the blankets snuggled up to your chest. hold them there—his hand, too. grabbing it tight, lacing your fingers together. feeling the weight of it on you, the smell of him so close. he smiles down at the gesture, hazel eyes collecting streetlight.

a hand touches his face. your other one, unpossessed by his own. your soft cinnamon palm cups his cheek and presses close. your thumb meets his eye bone and sweeps.

“yeah,” you tell him. “it’s alright now.”

steve squeezes your hand.

“it’s alright,” he agrees.

[emotionallyattachednerd]

Storm's Heat Part 2 | IDW Drift/Deadlock x f!robot reader | NSFW 18+

Word count: 4900+ ( 2400+ each scenario )

Warnings: Smut ( spike in valve, breeding kink and knotting ), some violence and attempted/mentions of non-con. NSFW 18+.

Notes: Finally, I've managed to get something done with writing. Sorry for the delay in posting anything. Was very busy over Christmas and than I caught a terrible bug that lasted weeks, and it's still lingering.

Even with the poll I still couldn't decide, so I did something with two scenarios. Am I crazy? Yeah, sure, why not? Normally the polls help but I just couldn't stop thinking about both outcomes. This is a two part story, one of each with a different scenario of events. Hope you all enjoy. 🥰

☕ Coffee

Becoming part of The Lost Light crew wasn't something you imagined yourself to be in, but you were really grateful and honoured to be offered such a position. Your job is to monitor and analyse data, simple enough for you, and you are eager to meet the crew.

Ratchet is the only one you've met before a number of times, and it's thanks to him that you got yourself on this crew. He was your first visit as you made your way towards the med bay, the only place you imagined the old medic to be lingering.

However, you managed to get yourself lost along the way down the endless halls, and as your helm was spinning you weren't paying attention and ran into someone, knocking your data pads onto the ground.

"Slag! I'm so sorry!" You hurry to gather the number of pads without looking up in your frazzled state.

"It's quite alright, it was an accident." They say before helping you gather what you dropped. The voice sounded strangely familiar, making you look at them finally.

They meet your gaze, confusion filling both his and your optics, before yours brisky widens. "Deadlock?"

He stares back at you, mute and bewildered that you're here, and calls him by his old name. He looks completely different, but you knew it was him, and his autobot badge even catches in your view.

Finally, he's able to find his voice in his startled state. "That's not my name anymore, darling. It's Drift now."

The way he called you darling makes you smile a little. It's been a while since you've last heard from him. In your last encounter you remember him as Deadlock, a decepticon you found yourself trapped within in your outpost, and decided to let yourself go and grasp into the unforgettable desire he provided.

Standing back up he offers back your data pads and you smile as you take them back. "Dead-Sorry, I mean Drift. What happened to you? You joined the autobots?"

Drift offers a tender smile. "A lot did happen, it's a very long story."

"Maybe we could catch up later?" You ask without hesitation. All you wanted was to talk with him, find out the story, if he wanted to speak about it that is.

For a moment he continues to stare before smiling more fondly. "That would be nice, of course we can. Where are you headed?"

"Medic bay, I wanted to speak with Ratchet, he's an old friend."

"Old friend? I'll need to hear that story." He smirks softly causing you to return the same. "Come, I'll walk you there."

It wasn't until much later that both you and Drift managed to find the time to meet and catch up. You were curious about his story, and just how he became an autobot. You end up meeting in his quarters just so you both had some privacy, his idea, and you sensed he had some things to say to you.

And a lot he said.

"Told you it was long. Banished Decepticon. Wreaker. Autobot. Interrogator. Public Relations Officer. And now, third in command aboard the Lost Light." Drift finishes with a light shrug as if it was all nothing.

"That's impressive. You've done and been through so much. You should be proud of yourself."

"I know, but not everything is perfect. I've done a lot of terrible things still, taken innocent lives, rained chaos as a decepticon. That's something I can never forget and I have to live with. That's what I've accepted."

"But how will you find peace then?" You ask for furrowing your optics slightly.

"Maybe I was never meant to find peace?"

"You've been given all these chances to become better, and you have. Punishing yourself won't change the past, but you can still find peace."

Drift listens and offers a soft smile. "Well, I found you again, so that might mean something?"

You can't help but blush a little. "Yeah, I believe so." He offers you more energon and you accept. It's quiet before he speaks again.

"You look well." Drift says to break the silence that lingered, and he looks as if he's nervous around you. You honestly thought it's cute.

"Thank you. You've changed a lot, but it's a good look on you."

He sits beside you on the sofa and fiddles with his servos, rolling his digits while staring at the floor, pondering over his thoughts. "I'm glad we bumped into one another. There is something I would like to say. What happened at the outpost, I'm sorry."

You furrow your optics a little. "Sorry? What do you mean?"

"I took advantage of you, it was wrong of me to do that. I've done a lot of terrible things in my life, many mistakes were made, a lot of innocent lives were taken by my servos, and that's something I'll live with forever. What I did to you, again, I'm sorry."

You continue to stare at him, still confused, and let your own thoughts ponder through your mind. "Do you seriously believe what we did was against my will?"

"Yes?" Now he sounds confused. "At least I pressured you, pushed you, didn't I?"

"I don't remember it like that." You shrug before thinking back to that moment. "I remember an autobot and a decepticon were trapped together in an outpost in the middle of a bad storm that lasted at least a month. In the moment, fractions didn't matter, and I wanted it to happen because I was so uptight about being cooped up. You showed me a pretty good time, and I never once held any regrets. Not once did I ever consider what happened was forced on me."

Drift listens as you speak, letting everything sink in through tender optics before letting out a long and quiet vent, as if relieved.

"Are you certain I didn't hurt you?"

"Not once did you hurt me. I promise." You touch his servo under your own, offering an assuring rub. "I'm...I'm glad we got to meet again, I was hoping we would cross paths."

"How so?" Drift is curious by what you mean.

You decide to not without holding back. Even if he rejects you, at least you could finally move on with him out of your thoughts, maybe. Leaning closer you meet his lips with your own and share a tender kiss.

You feel him tense, but it quickly departs, and then you feel him leaning into it, welcoming the delicate smooch. Tilting your helm you deepen it a little and coil your glossa with his own, which he softly eagerly accepts while moving his servos across your waist.

This entices you to straddle his lap and press yourself against his chassis, letting every moment of this last for as long as possible, because you didn't know if this will ever happen again or what Drift was even thinking at that moment. All that matters is he is kissing you back, and you are craving more from him.

Finally, the kiss is broken, but you remain close as you gaze into his optics, taking in the softness that swims in them. All you can do is offer a sheepish smile before speaking.

"Call me crazy, but I was hoping to find you again. You kind of left your mark, I couldn't stop thinking about you." The confession gets you all shy. "I don't know, just that...guess I like you. You might've changed your life, your name, but you're still you, and I feel drawn to you."

Drift listens, letting her words sink in before giving a tender smile, reaching up to caress her cheek plating. "It's not crazy. I'll admit, I thought about you from time to time, wondering where you were and what you were doing with yourself. I honestly didn't expect to run into you again, but I'm grateful I have."

You return with a smile, a weight lifted off your shoulders hearing him speak words you were hoping to hear. "So, what now?"

"Would you like to keep going?"

You nod, because you didn't trust your own voice to stutter through the elation growing through your system. He brings you closer and kisses you again, your servos moving behind his helm once again while deepening the kiss together.

His servos skillfully move over your hips and waist, holding you against him while his glossa coils playfully with your own, letting out soft moans together while the kiss plays on.

You decide to keep going for more and descend your servo down between you both, running your soft digits against his heated panel, earning a hitched vent from him against the kiss.

He doesn't hesitate though and retracts his panel, his semi hard spike emerging out, and there he still has his knot, making you giggle lightly.

"Well, guess not everything has changed."

Drift smirks through a light moan feeling your servo wrap around his throbbing spike. "Can I assume you missed not just me, but my spike as well?"

"Maybe." You tease, sharing another gentle kiss with him as you stroke him, right across the thick base of his knot and caressing around it with a gentle squeeze causing him to let out a stuttered vent.

"Well, I can happily say that I'm ready and eager for your lovely valve. Think you can handle that again?" Drift asks through his heated vents, waist wiggling a little against your stroking of him while you continue to pump him gently.

"I can handle it, all of you, always." You sound so confident, and you were, very much, and Drift's smile stretches more as you answer this.

Keeping your servo wrapped around him you lift your hips up to hover over his throbbing spike before sinking down, feeling him pulse through your channel, quickly meeting with his knot that settles against your valve lips. You missed him, so dearly much.

"Drift." You call him by his name, forgetting his decepticon name, gracefully wiggling your hips and grinding down on him, rubbing your node against him that creates an abnormal, yet sensual rolling moan from him. "Oh Drift...."

Your body rocks in motion against him while wrapping your servos around his neck, bringing yourself closer, and you can't help but smile through your heated moans as you hear his alluring purrs, silky sounds that swim around your audios. His servos hold securely against your waist while helping to guide you more down on him, though you were doing most of the work yourself.

His knot endlessly grinds against your valve, desperately seeking the velvet warmth that already surrounds his spike riding through you. You want it, all of him, so much, and you eagerly respond by pushing yourself down more firmly to try and get that knot in you.

Drift lets out a rowdy moan, feeling you grip all along him while attempting to bury yourself onto his knot that throbs rapidly, his spike increasing in size little by little, before he helps by pushing you more harshly down on him, and this is the help you needed before you feel his knot push past into your valve, locking you both together with his knot expanding, creating a elegant throbbing bump against your valve.

A sharp cry echoes from you feeling sudden stretch expand through your channel, every ridged pulse sending waves of electric shocks against your inner walls that boil through your frame, embracing him tightly with your face buried against his inner neck, letting out ravenous moans that join his growing purrs.

Within moments, you're rolling your waist skillfully and firmly against him, feeling his knot tugging at your valve at each grind you deliver against him. He meets with your movements in sync, harsh grunts hitting your lips before kissing him deeply and joining your glossa's together. It's you that overloads first, clamping down on him and letting out a buzzing mewl against his lips as the shocks rush through you. Then you feel him jerking against your frame before stilling, warm thick ropes of trans fluids soaking your depths while his knot expands more and prevents anything from leaving.

Resting against his chassis you let out heated vents as your fans kick in to cool yourself off. Drift doing the same while his servos wrap around your body, holding you close against him, his knot buried deep within your valve as you clench around him eagerly still. You missed feeling so stuffed by his spike and knot.

"So, would you like to go on a date?" He manages to ask and you answer through a beaming giggle.

"Yes, please. That would be nice."

Drift caresses your cheek plating and leans forward to share a kiss with you. It's so tender, gentle through your senses. "I look forward to it, darling."

It's a date.

AU where Decepticons win the war...

Its a living nightmare for all autobots. This wasn't meant to happen, least not how you imagined it would turn out, and now you find yourself a prisoner of war, captured with your group as you attempt an escape off the planet, only to fail.

Optimus Prime was offline. The decepticons have won the war. Cybertron was under Megatron's control. Autobots were spoils of war. All the worst and horrible things were happening so quickly.

Your group is led off a shuttle and shoved into a building, no one knowing what's to happen. The autobots were at the mercy of the cons.

You're trembling, lips quivering as your bound servos clench tightly to try and ease your nerves, but this doesn't help in the slightest. You're terrified about what your fate is to be, or just what might happen to you. After all, you're a femme, not a lot like you around, and that makes you stand out more.

Rough servos suddenly grab hold of you, tugging you out of your group, and you find yourself in the grasps of a decepticon who is staring at you with the most putrid smile.

"Well ain't you fine and dainty. You're coming with me, sweetspark. Me and the boys are going to have a lot of fun with you." Your optics widen as you're suddenly dragged away, the shouts and curses of the other autobots are heard but ignored. They couldn't help you.

"No, no! Please!" You plead as you try to dig your pedes into the ground to stop but fail as you're pretty much dragged across through the erupted crowds and into another rowdy building, music and cheers screaming out from it. They were celebrating, and you are their next taste of victory.

Upon entering, the catcalls and whistles cut through your audios that make you tremble more, trying to hold back your tears as the grip on your arm tugs you through into the center.

"Got us some entertainment! Let's show the auto-slut how we like to treat a femme!" The con announces before shoving you into a group, and chaos erupts.

Your screams and pleads were silent through the decepticons' own shouts and calls, each trying to grab and tug at you, before being yanked away again by another. Your helm is spinning, you're tired, and your vocals hurt, you just wanted this nightmare to end.

Things only got worse when the decepticons now start fighting over you and punches are thrown, one managing to knock the side of your helm and throwing you to the ground. Your audios start ringing from the impact as you try pushing yourself up off the floor. Escape. You needed an escape.

Another pair of servos grab you and you start struggling again, only to stop when you hear a familiar voice against your audio.

"I've got you, darling."

"Deadlock?"

"The one and only." You can feel his smirk as he lifts you into his arms and loops your cuffed servos over his helm.

You don't answer but you do act instantly by holding onto him, your saviour, as he attempts to take you away from the others that still try to grab you, though Deadlock wasn't going to let that happen. He'll tear them all apart if he must.

Grabbing his blaster he shoots one nearest to him in the shoulder, not killing them, but enough to send a message for the others.

"Get back!" Deadlock snarls at them all. "She's mine!"

Energon splattered across your face as the shots rang out but you didn't even flinch, you have much more to worry about in that moment.

Everyone knew who Deadlock was and just knew how dangerous he could be. Though the message was sent, it didn't mean they were stopping.

"You have no claim over her! She's nothing but war spoils!" The one who had dragged her here argues.

"What the fragging pit is going on?!"

A thundering voice cuts through the air and sends shivers through you, making you hold onto Deadlock more letting out a whimper as he offers quiet shushes against your audio. You peek your optics up, only to face an enormous con approaching Deadlock.

"Having fun with the spoils boss!" Another cackles which earns them some eager chants.

"Turmoil, do you really want this kind of greasy behaviour in your city? Your troops allowed rape anyone they please?" Deadlock knew his commander. As blunt and taciturn as he was, he wasn't one to approve of that kind of pointless behaviour.

"Whose brilliant idea was it to bring the femme here, to a bunch of riled up horny soldiers?!" Turmoil raised his cannon, swinging it around causing the others to duck for cover, but he wasn't interested in shooting anyone. " That's why we got brothels, to handle your needs! Stupid. The lot of you!"

That was it then. No further attempts were made to get you.

Turmoil fixes his optics on Deadlock. "Get her out of here. I don't care what you do with her." That answer is good for Deadlock, and carries you away from the scene.

It's over. You're safe.

"Thank you, thank you..." You feel yourself cry softly into his shoulder, a sickening weight is lifted off and you're now safe.

"I won't let anything happen to you."

Deadlock brings you back to his apartment, which is rather nice, and makes you wonder just how important he was. You sit on his berth, cuffs gone, and he offers you energon which you accept before he then starts to tend to a few minor injuries on you.

It's been so long since you last saw him when you were stationed at that outpost. After the storm had passed, you both parted ways, and that was it. Deep down you missed him, no matter how much you told yourself how wrong it was, you couldn't help but feel the need to see him again. Did you fall for a con? Yeah, you think you did. Now here you are, ruined again.

Seeing you again wasn't something Deadlock had expected to happen, but he was glad he came across you in your situation just in time before it could escalate. He didn't like his property touched, and made that clear when he started shooting them.

"Are you hurt anywhere else?" He asks once he's taken care of the ones he visibly saw.

"I'm alright." You whisper back, still trying to process everything. Then you feel a touch against your cheek plating and meet his optics. How could someone look so dangerous and harmless at the same time?

Deadlock is sitting beside you on the berth as he takes in your cute face he had missed, his digit gently tracing across your cheek plating while tilting his helm, as if trying to read every detail about you while you lean into his touches, before you find your voice again. "What happens now?"

"You'll remain with me." Deadlock doesn't hesitate. There's no way he can let go of you again. "Turmoil is my commander and I'm his SIC, he was given the city by Megatron. Things are still adjusting and new laws are being laid, but I'll make sure he knows you're not to be touched by anyone else."

At least Deadlock could do this to make sure you're not bothered. "What you said before, 'she's mine', what did you mean by that?"

"It means exactly that." He leans closer, his ravenous optics lingering through your own closely. "You're mine, everyone will know this, I'll take good care of you."

It should've made you feel degraded to be owned, but it doesn't. You see it as protection, a safe haven, but best of all you'll be with Deadlock. The autobots lost, there's no point in resisting, not that you wanted to towards Deadlock. In fact, you crave for this touches already. Calmly, you lean into his servo still lingering against your cheek plating and offer a delicate smile. He returns the same with an upturn smirk before closing the distance between you both and kisses you. Kissing him back you tilt your helm, deepening the kiss you both share with your glossa's coiling together. Oh, you've missed his lips, those pointed dentas, everything about him.

He's the first to break the kiss but he keeps close, letting out a satisfied purr while he nuzzles into your face, making you smile more, the most you've smiled since your capture. He speaks again. "Why don't you use the washranks? Get yourself soaked in fresh oil, and I'll help with you polish after."

"Thank you." Getting up you run your servo across his shoulder while keeping your optics on his, a light tease that makes him smirk softly again in return. In the doorway you stop and turn to face him again, noticing he was putting away the medical supplies he had used on you. "Would you like to join me?"

Deadlock meets your gaze again before giving a rather pleased smile between his sharp dentas as his amber optics glowed wildly. "I would like that, darling."

In the washranks you both settle within the fresh oil bath together as you straddle yourself within his lap. Your servos glide across his armour, digits trace across his decepticon badge, and move them back up to caress his cheek plating fondly, admiring every inch of him.

Deadlock watches you, curious and pleased to see you exploring. He knew you were a smart femme and you weren't going to cause trouble. He missed your cute face, that innocent smile, he could never forget about you after your time together at that outpost. Letting out another purr he leans his cheek plating into your servo, kissing the inside of your wrist before leaning across to claim your lips again. He tugs you closer against him by your waist while the bubbling heat grows between you both, a crave you'll both be unable to shake of. You already knew he had become your obsession, an addiction you'll never want out of your life, your knight in shining armour to love and protect you.

"Fragging pit, you're so beautiful darling, cute little femme." Deadlock murmurs through his growing hunger against your lips. "I bet you've missed me, not just me, but my knot as well. I ruined you for anyone else to satisfy you, didn't I?"

"You did." You answer honestly. It's true, and sure, you've shared the berth with a few other partners after Deadlock, but none of them ever got close just how good he made you feel.

"Good." Is his amused answer before you let out a startled gasp when you feel his servo glide across between your legs and against your panel, only for you to retract it immediately for him.

His satisfaction is visible before he pushes a digit inside, and instantly you're rocking yourself against him, moaning loudly while clenching your already soaking valve around his curling digit.

"So wet and eager." Deadlock couldn't hold back anymore. "Turn around, I want that aft nice and high for me."

Obeying his command you turn yourself and lean over the edge of the in floor basin, lifting your hips with your exposed valve in view and dripping with oil while you wiggle, teasing him as you send a lustful glance back over your shoulder.

Deadlock lets out a deep sound from his chassis, a profound growl that runs through his entire frame at the sight of you. Retracting his panel, his already throbbing spike slides out, along with his thickened knot as the whole length pulses. He lays himself across your back and takes hold of the front of your throat, tugging you back and kissing you firmly that you eagerly return, rocking your hips back against his heated spike that glides against your valve lips, ridges stimulating against your node.

He humps you, getting off the intense stimulation, before directing himself against your valve and thrusts forward firmly. A choked gasp erupts from you, feeling his pulsing thickness stretch you wildly, forgetting just how big he was. His swollen knot presses against your valve and he keeps still, savouring your clenching valve as he moans loudly against your audio.

"Oh darling, I've missed your tight valve." He growls in desire as he rolls his waist, earning a cute mewl from you. "I'm going to frag you always, claim you day and night, always ready for you. Would you like that?"

"Yes!" You let out an intense loud whimper. "Please, make me yours!"

Deadlock is overwhelmingly pleased, giggling through a grin between sharp dentas before he starts moving, grinding against your aft with his servos wrapped around your middle to hold you tightly and sets a shallow and firm pace, thrusting his spike into your depths. There's no holding back from either of you as he breeds you to his desire, rutting wilding, earning constant lascivious mewls from your vocals, his helm resting against your shoulder as his heated grunts press into your audio.

You feel his thickening spike plunging deeply through your channel over again, heated possessive grunts hitting your audio while you fall apart under him, letting him breed you as he wanted. His knot hits the outside of your valve repeatedly, grinding against your node perfectly, sending shock waves through your entire frame.

The wet sounds you hear causes you to quiver more, enjoying just how silky your valve is for him, willingly welcoming every possessive thrust he delivers. Your metal armour clangs against him over again as does the oil swish around against his excessive movements. His grip around your middle tightens as he starts to grind himself more firmly, and you know what is about to happen.

All you can do is spread your legs more for him and move back to meet his strong movements, trying to help him knot you, as this is what you both seek and become tied together.

"I'll fill you deeply with so much of my warm fluids, your chambers are flooding, and maybe we'll have a sparkling. Is that something you would like, darling, huh?" His words roll out through heated purrs.

The very thought of having his sparkling sounded perfect. "Yes, yes, please, I want that!" You'll give him as many as he wants.

"Wonderful."

That's your only warning you get as he grinds himself firmly against you harshly, followed by sharp thrusts that rock you forward and makes you squeal out while he tries to push his thick knot in. It takes a little more effort, but eventually he manages to push through your valve, tying you both together. You cry out in bliss feeling his swollen knot imbed you, spike pulsing widely and tip pressing into your chambers while he keeps thrusting, your mewls loud and eager.

Lost in the moment you lose yourself and overload hard, clenching tightly on him as you cry out in bliss. He snarls through his violent thrusts, and he uses his dentas to bite into your shoulder to lock you in place before shooting thick ropes of his warm trans fluids into your chambers and soaking through your channel. His bite only adds to the arousal, as does the growing bump over your valve where his spike and knot lock you both in place together. His movements slow, turning into slow jerks that cause you to whimper as your cooling fans kick in and rest against the edge of the basin, knowing fully well you'll both be there for a while.

You find yourself drifting in and out of stasis, with the lack of recharge you've had your systems struggled to keep you alert. At some point you end up in his berth again, cleaned and polished, resting within his safe arms as his servos ghostly graze against your back in a soothing manner. Easily, you've fallen for him, love perhaps, and you want to be with him always.

Deadlock feels pretty damn lucky to have found you again, his special cute little autobot, and he had no plans ever letting you go. One day he'll convince you to switch the symbol on your chassis, joining you to the winning team and giving you the life you deserved.

"No one else can ever have you, you're mine. Only I can provide you with a good life, and that's right at my side. Do you understand?" His words whisper into your audio, making you respond through a low hum.

"I understand."

"That's a good femme."