#I usually read smut in the morning like its the morning paper

[milanesacosmica]

So. I thought about Jayce coming to a zaunite brothel just to oops, find Viktor with a guy that looks exactly like him,so he watches the whole thing. Imagine Viktor accidentally calls the guy Jayce lol.

Has this already been written or do I have to sign up some papers with my blood?

If not, please, make it the smutiest smut i've ever seen. Make me wanna take my eyes out of my eyesockets.

[mallowsweetmiri]

Need you to continue Best Friend! Fred please… PLEASE… I am begging on my knees… You write so well… I will be waiting right here… Oh how I yearn for Best Friend! Fred…

Merry Christmas sluts ❤️

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Bestfriend!Fred with no boundaries teaches you how to have sex pt 2

summary: its the day after you asked Fred to teach you about sex, and he's keeping up on his promise.

warnings: smut, cursing

⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆

It wasn’t unusual for you to think about Fred first thing in the morning. You often walked to breakfast with the twins and saw him within your classes on a daily basis. But it was unusual to wake up with your panties completely soaked while thinking about him. Was this something that happened the morning after, or did you just not shower well enough after last night?

Either way, you ended up taking a very cold shower before breakfast. By the time you came down to the common room, Fred and George were waiting by the couches. Fred smiled as he watched you come down the stairs.

“Good morning, lovely,” Fred said as you approached them. He pulled you under his arms as the three of you started towards the exit.

“Good morning,” you smiled, happy to start another day by your best friends side.

“What am I, a flobberworm?” George scoffed sarcastically from behind. You rolled your eyes playfully and looked back at him.

“Good morning to you too, George,” you teased, walking through the portrait hole. The day seemed much brighter in the halls, and it looked surprisingly nice out. The three of you walked into the Great Hall and sat down where you normally did, next to Hermione usually at this time of the morning.

"Good morning," she chirped, her head buried in a book.

“Morning, Hermione,” you greeted, taking a seat.

“Whatcha reading there?” The twins sat on the other side of the table.

“Ancient Uses of Mystic Herbs,” she replied, sitting up straighter and flipping her book up to show the cover. “Trying to find something that could help Harry.” You hummed in interest as Hermione sank back into her book. George pulled out a paper and began writing at the bottom.

"What’s that?" you asked, buttering your toast. George smirked and gave you a funny look.

"The Herbology assignment that's due today?" George said questioningly, raising his brows at you. Your brows shot up in response as you remembered the blank paper in your bag.

"I completely forgot about that assignment," you gasped. "Fred, can I please, please copy yours?" You pleaded, sticking your bottom lip out in persuasion. He shot you back an amused look as he gathered sausages onto his plate.

"Y/N, you're usually such a good student,” he teased, shaking his head at you in disapproval. “Were you distracted yesterday?” You sharpened your eyes at him and he laughed, passing you his paper. You felt your cheeks heat up. At least he was letting you copy off of him.

"You're too nice to her, Freddie," George joked, shaking his head at him.

"Ah, it's the least I can do for my best friend," Freddie grinned, leaning over the table to pinch your cheek. You batted his head away and started furiously copying his work, ignoring George laughing at you. As you copied his work, he filled your mug with tea. Earl grey with a dash of cream, just the way you liked it. By the time breakfast was over, you had finished the assignment and were off to your first class of the day.

The day dragged on per usual. In Herbology, Fred and George rubbed sneezewart on the observation sheets causing multiple students to rush out of class in a fit. You had a few classes without Fred and George, and Ancient Runes was your final class for the day. You stared out the window as dull clouds began to roll in from the forest. You tried to pay attention to Professor Babbling, but her droning voice quickly became background noise. The clouds came in closer to the castle, the sound of thunder rumbling through the windows. Rain storms always made you feel cozy, and you wished class would end so you could curl up in your favorite jumper. It was Fred’s Gryffindor sweatshirt and the memory of its smell reminded you of yesterday. His skin had been so close to you, and while it was comforting, there was something else. A want, a yearning to just press your hips against his. Your head snapped away from the window as your peers began to gather their belongings. You began to do the same, noting the slickness between your thighs. There it was again. You needed to find Fred and ask him what you should do about it. Was it pathetic that you knew virtually nothing about sex? You slung your bag over your shoulder and left the classroom, moving hastily towards Gryffindor. You knew Fred wouldn’t judge you and would actually teach you, that’s why you had asked him in the first place. But would he pity you for barely knowing anything at all?

By the time you got to the tower, it was pouring outside. There was the usual chatter and rough housing in the common room, but your failure to spot Fred had you climbing the stairs to his dorm. You were frustrated and cold and you just wanted to be near your best friend.

When you opened the door after a hurried knock, you were happy to see only Fred in the room. He was laying on his bed reading his book.

"Hi Y/N," he greeted, looking up from his book. "How was class?" You huffed as you moved towards his closet, pulling his hoodie out and slipping it on over your head.

"It was terrible," you pouted, coming over to his bed. Fred put his book down and opened his arms to you. You fell gladly into his chest.

"Why was it terrible love?" Fred mumbled into your hair. You groaned and buried yourself deeper into him.

"It's just..." you hesitated, always losing the courage to talk about stuff like this.

"Is it about yesterday?" Fred asked, his hand petting the back of your head. He always knew what you were thinking and you were relieved that he had caught on.

"Yes," you fussed, sitting up from his grasp. Fred huffed out a chuckle and followed suit. "It's just that, I can't stop thinking about it, y'know?"

"Oh, I know," Fred mumbled. You continued on with your ramblings.

"It's like I'm in class and I'm just distracted," you explained, your hands gesturing wildly. "And my underwear has been wet for hours. How do I make it stop?" Fred swallowed and dropped his gaze to your skirt.

"Darling, it's not something you can just stop," Fred explained, his eyes coming back up to yours. "Your body just wants more." You pursed your lips as you pondered this for a second, listening to the rain pelt against the window. Maybe you really did want more...

"I want to go all the way," you declared, sitting up straight and nodding your head. Fred couldn't help but smiled at your naivety.

"You want to go 'all the way'?" Fred chuckled, teasing your choice of words. He found this entire situation charming.

"Yes," you huffed defiantly. "I want you to have sex with me." Fred chuckled in disbelief and ran his hands through his hair. Your bold innocence made his head spin.

"It's going to hurt," Fred warned, trying his best to properly inform you before you made the decision to lose your virginity. He wouldn't be able to say no to you.

"Okay," you nodded, your fingers playing with the hem of your sock. "What else?"

"You might bleed," he said. "And it might not feel good at all this time." Your brows furrowed.

"But everybody says sex feels amazing?" You questioned, tilting your head. Freds half smile made you heart skip. That was new.

"It does," he chuckled, his eyes falling to your lips for a moment. "But it might be uncomfortable your first time. Especially with me,” he teased. You rolled your eyes at his insinuation and he laughed again. "I'm serious, Y/N. I don't want you to do something you don't want to do." This was clearly the wrong thing to say as you leaned forward to roughly grasp his shoulders.

"Fred, I want this. I want to know what it feels like and there's nobody else on this entire planet I trust more than you," you stated, gripping his shoulders as he watched your declaration.

"Well if I'm going to fuck you we need to kiss first," he grinned cheekily, watching the heat rise up to your cheeks.

"Oh, shut the fuck up," you huffed, finding the courage to lean forward to kiss him. He laughed into the kiss but gladly gripped your hips in return, his mouth moving in tandem. You kissed him greedily, your body moving on its own. Fred swept you onto your back, crawling over your without breaking the kiss. Within seconds, he had taken the control back from you, his kiss melting away your sudden burst of courage. He clearly knew what he was doing and you didn't put up a fight for dominance. The ache in your core surged as his knee pried open your legs, causing a moan to leave your lips. You felt more confident this time, less embarrassed of your noises of ecstasy as Fred's knee applied a much needed pressure to your cunt. You let your hands grip his hair, then run down his back. You felt him groan and it made you want to do it again. You were surprised at your self assurance, and even more surprised that you seemed to have to same effect on Fred that he had on you. His teeth bit softly into your neck in a change of pace.

"Fred," you moaned instinctively, you back arching off the mattress against your will. He didn't stop, instead tearing off your sweatshirt. This prompted the two of you to hastily take off all your clothes, only stopping to laugh when your hand accidentally whacked Fred in the face. The laughter faded as he came forward again, this time kissing you with such tenderness, you thought you were melting back into the mattress.

Fred was hopeless; he had been ruined since yesterday. He knew from the moment he kissed you that he'd been a complete fool. All day he'd been trying to convince himself otherwise, that he didn't harbor any romantic feelings towards you and you were still just his bestfriend. He wasn't going to bother lying to himself any longer. He was hopelessly in love with you.

His kiss began to trail down your neck again, then to your breast, then down your navel. Fred wanted to devour you. He wanted to watch as you came again for him. It drove him crazy that he was the only person to watch you unravel.

"F-Fred," you breathed, your hands tugging at his hair. "What are you doing?" His brown eyes peered up at you as he pressed his mouth into your thigh, making your hips buck.

"Before you have sex, we need to get you nice and wet for me darling," he breathed, kissing closer to your cunt. His fingers ran up your slit and you shivered. "Although, it doesn't seem like you need much help." You didn't have time to respond before he pressed a kiss into your clit, effectively sucking the rest of the air out of your lungs. You shuddered repeatedly as he licked gently on your sensitive clit. It felt so different from his fingers, so wet and warm. It took you a moment in your daze to realize he was moaning into your pussy, greedily lapping at your clit and pushing his tongue inside you. Fred wasn't even trying to hold himself back, his arms wrapping underneath you thighs and pulling you into his face. You tried to press him off of you, embarrassed at how close he was to you heat, but his grip won over you. His tongue lapped in circle, his gentle suck and kiss pulling terrible noises from your mouth. With every movement, the pressures built up inside you, sensation washing over you as you rocked your hips against his tongue. It felt like only a minute had passed when the tightness in your core suddenly snapped.

"Oh, fuck-" you cried as you came unexpectedly onto his tongue, the waves of intense pleasure taking away your ability to breathe. He sighed deeply as he lapped it all up, his grip not loosening for a second. It was only when he felt your legs kicking and your needy pleas for him that he gave one last gentle kiss to you clit. You stared at him breathlessly, unsure of what to say after you just came all over your bestfriends face. Luckily for you, Fred didn't miss a beat.

"You taste so fucking good," Fred praised, kissing up your stomach as you caught your breath. “You’re so good at this Y/N. Did that feel good?" He asked, coming up to hover over your face and brush the sweaty strands of hair off your face. You nodded shyly as you breathed, leaning up to catch his lips in a kiss. He chuckled as he accepted your kiss before saying, "Use your words, darling."

"Yes," you panted, pulling the back of his head down towards you. "That felt so good, Freddie." Fred groaned as his mouth came down to savor your kiss. You stayed like this for a while, kissing as Fred gently pressed his hips into yours. After a while, your hips began to rock with his, naturally moving with the rhythm he had set. There was nothing between the two of you besides his thin boxers, and you could feel his hard length rubbing against you. Occasionally, his tip would catch your entrance, and the pressure made the both of you groan.

"I'm ready," you mumbled into his lips, the two of you unable to break your kiss. He hummed into your lips and kissed you hard for a few more second before he pried himself off of you. He kneeled over you, freeing himself from his boxers with a slap. Your mouth parted slightly at the sight of him, and you were starting to believe him when he said it might hurt. His smile was more adoring than teasing as he watched you gape at his size. You watched breathlessly as he stroked himself a few times before coming back over you.

"Are you sure?" He asked once more, rubbing his tip up and down your slit, spreading your slickness. You weren't sure you could even speak as you watched him do this, you were mesmerized.

"Yes," you breathed, you gaze coming back up to his. His eyes searched your face for any hesitation, and when he found none, he lined himself up with your entrance.

"Just tell me if you want to stop," he soothed, brushing your fallen hair behind your ear. You nodded and tightened your grip on the back of his neck. He pressed a kiss to your lips and pushed himself inside of you.

Fred felt like an idiot as he exhaled into the kiss, his thumb rubbing gently across your cheek. He couldn't believe he didn't realize how much he liked you, how much he loved you. He wanted to swallow you whole. He wished that you knew how much this meant to him, but he knew you were too distracted to be thinking about anything else but his cock inside your tight pussy for the first time. Fuck.

"How does it feel, love," Fred asked, his voice nothing but a raspy whisper. You buried your face into his neck and whined.

"Just keep going," you whispered. "Please." Fred tried not to groan at your pleading as he pulled back again. He knew it must hurt for you, you were so tight. It was taking everything inside of him not to groan uncontrollably and push himself fully inside of you, you felt so good. His lips fell to your neck and left soothing kisses as he pushed himself into you again, this time going deeper. He felt your breath hitch into his neck as your eyes clamped shut. Fred's fingers gripped the sheets for his life.

"Just one more, darling. You’re doing so good," Fred muttered, pulling back gently once more. You nodded into his neck, making some sort of noise of assurance. With a final push, Fred bottomed out and let out an irrepressible moan. You cried again, your fingers digging into his shoulders as you felt his full length. He stayed like this for a moment, his lips encouraging you to return his kiss. You obliged and felt yourself relax, the feeling of his lips against yours softening your face. After a moment you let out a soft moan, the fullness inside of you finally satisfying what you thought would be a never ending ache. You moaned again into his kiss, this time louder as he became less controlled, his mouth eagerly devouring your own.

"It feels better now," you whispered into the kiss. Fred hummed and began to move with small and gentle pumps, letting you get used to his size. Fred's fingers were losing circulation as he gripped the bedsheets in an attempt to control himself from fucking you senseless. He fit perfectly inside you, and your breathy whimpers and pants were sending him over the edge. He made a critical mistake by pulling back to watch you as he picked up his pace, your watery eyes and swollen lips looked like heaven.

"Fuck, Y/N," he grunted, fully moving with his entire length at this point. "I'm not going to last long." You didn't seem to be able to form any coherent words besides your whines so you just nodded instead, overwhelmed by the unexpected knot forming in your stomach. He watched your eyes as he thrust into you over and over again, the pleasure on your face growing with each movement. His hand gripped your waist as he drove himself into you at his full capability for the final few thrusts. He couldn't help himself and from the noises you were making, you seemed to enjoy it. "Fuck," Fred whispered as he pulled out of you, pumping his cock a few times as he came on the sheets next to you. You watched in awe as he spurted hot liquid onto the bed, some of it falling onto the side of your hips. It made you buck you hips as the emptiness began to creep up, his warm cum dripping teasingly down your side. Fred finished and promptly smothered you in kisses, the two of you groaning as you rode out the last moments of euphoria with each other. Breathless and spent, Fred rolled off of you and pulled you in his chest.

"Are you okay, my love?" He asked, kissing the top of your head and your ears and your cheeks. You giggled and sighed into his kisses, coming up to place one onto his lips.

"Yes," you sighed. "More than okay." Fred smiled and huffed out a laugh, burying his face into you neck as his arms pulled you in tighter. You both sighed contentedly and rested like this for a moment, wetness and warmth in between your bodies.

"We need to get you cleaned up," Fred hushed, reaching over to his bedside to grab his wand. He quickly cleaned up the bed before moving to you, carefully casting the proper charms to get you clean before doing himself. "You should definitely use the bathroom soon and shower before you go to sleep tonight, love." Fred pressed a kiss to your lips again before pulling his sweatshirt over your head and finding you a fresh pair of his boxers to slip up your legs before pulling his sweats back on.

"Mmm," you groaned, closing your eyes and falling back onto his pillow. You were sapped. Fred chuckled and came to join you again, wrapping himself around you.

"Are you listening, love?" Fred teased, rubbing your back with his soft and sturdy hands.

"Mmm," you hummed again, burying yourself deeper into his chest, relishing in his comfort. He huffed out a laugh and buried himself back into your neck.

"Well, I'm getting you up in a moment to use the bathroom," he said, pressing a kiss into the fabric on your shoulders. "And you're not getting out of it. I'm not going to succumb to your cute little noises." You murmured again into his chest and smiled when this made him laugh.

"Can we do this again?" You asked quietly, almost hoping he hadn't heard you. He chortled at your question.

"Yes. Yes, we can do this again."

[azrielbrainrot]

An Exercise in Patience

Pairing: Azriel x F!Reader

Kinktober 2024: Cockwarming

Description: Your plan to bother Azriel while he's working fails, or maybe it doesn't.

Warnings: Smut, cockwarming, implied vaginal sex, slight dom/sub dynamics, kinda bratty reader, actually kind of fluffy

Word Count: ~1,3k

Rating: 18+ MDNI

Kinktober 2024 Masterlist

You sigh for what feels like the millionth time, unashamedly acting like a petulant child who hadn't gotten her way, pouting against Azriel's shoulder as you felt his chest rise and fall against yours.

“I'm not sure what you expected was going to happen when you walked in this room wearing that, my love.”

“I expected my mate to bend me over his desk and fuck me.”

The disinterested yet somehow amused hum he offers makes you let out a huff of your own, straightening your posture so you aren't leaning on him anymore and can meet his eyes, trying to ignore the way his cock is filling you oh so deliciously, and only goes deeper with the change in position. If he wants to act unaffected, you'll do the same.

“Rhys needs these reports ready by tomorrow morning for his meeting with the High Lords,” he starts explaining, the sounds of his pen scratching against the paper the only sound in the room as he pauses, reading carefully through the pages, choosing the documents over you even now, “I told you all of this already.”

The way he was reading over your shoulder, not even meeting your eyes as he talked or acknowledging the fact that you were barely wearing any clothes at all, the sheer black lace not truly covering anything, was annoying you more than it probably should have.

It's not your fault you can't be patient when it comes to your mate. Not when he looks like a wet dream personified, especially when he focuses on something as he is now. It's also not your fault Rhys suddenly had a meeting the day after you bought such a beautiful set for Azriel to rip off of you and ruined all your plans.

It's not like you didn't understand how important his work was, but he had shut you down too easily, simply sitting you on his cock and going back to writing his report like it was the most normal thing, like the way his mate was dripping and clenching around him didn't matter. It was especially vexing since you could barely form a single thought, his scent and warmth making the bond want to jump through your skin, lay him down over the desk and ride him until you were shaking on top of him.

“I can almost hear your thoughts,” he says, a hint of amusement breaking through the serious tone he put on earlier.

“Has Rhysand been teaching you new tricks?”

Your tone makes him pause, hazel eyes shifting to yours for just a second before returning to the task at hand. He doesn't say anything, but he wraps one arm around your back, pulling you in closer, making you wrap your own arms around his neck, hugging him to you once again, humming when you relax a bit against him, annoyance fizzling out in his arms. Your body was a traitor, and he knew its every little secret.

One thing you wouldn't admit is how impressed you were that you had been able to fit him all the way inside you so quickly and with barely any preparation, it usually takes you a bit of stimulation to be able to get to this point, not that either of you mind the need for some foreplay.

Unfortunately, these thoughts led to memories of how well he fucked you just about every day and every night, this morning even, on the bed, in the bathtub, on this stupid desk, and up against the wall. Another defeated sigh escapes your lips, your cunt clenching around his hard cock involuntarily.

“You know if I was a little more insecure I'd find it insulting that you can keep working while I'm sitting on your cock,” you mumble, nuzzling into the crook of his neck.

“I was trained to not let anything distract me,” he answers matter-of-factly.

Your teeth find the skin of his neck before you could stop yourself, biting hard enough to leave the imprint of your teeth on the soft skin, his body tensing under yours - apparently he wasn't immune to every type of distraction.

Feeling bad for him, or just wanting to see what other reactions you could get out of the stoic spymaster, you lick over the mark, kissing and sucking on the skin until a deep red spot bloomed under your mouth. Sadly, it still doesn't keep him away from the papers, only giving you the satisfaction of feeling him tense up against you a couple times.

“Didn't know you could be so mean either.”

“Mean?” His voice sounded deeper, maybe your little plan was working better than you assumed. “I think I'm being quite generous, letting you warm my cock when it's the opposite of helpful while I have work to do.”

“Then why can't I move?” You grind into him softly, a harsh breath escaping him at the movement, it brings a triumphant smile to your lips even if his shadows rush to stop you from repeating the motion.

“Because you need to learn how to be patient.”

“So this is my punishment?”

“We can call it that if it makes you feel better.” It doesn't, not at all. “Now hush, the sooner I finish the reports on my desk, the sooner I can bend you over it.”

“Azriel,” you whine yet again.

“I'm almost done,” he shushes you softly again.

You watch his face for a moment longer, debating whether to try your luck or wait patiently like he asked you to, but a quick glance from him has your body making the decision for you, leaning back down against his strong body, waiting quietly, and mostly still.

With a hand falling over the back of his neck, you pet him softly, fingers combing through the curls on the nape of his neck, just how you know he likes, feeling him relax under you immediately. Azriel wouldn't let you move too much, but you could at least do this. You start dropping little kisses all over his neck, starting by his ear and moving down until you find the fabric of his shirt, unbuttoning it so you could tug at his collar and reach as much of his soft, unmarked skin as you could.

“What are you doing?”

His voice startles you, pulling back to meet his eyes, you had gotten so focused on covering every little bit of skin that you almost forgot he was even there. He did look a bit less in control than before as half lidded hazel eyes stared back at you, and you can't help the smile from spreading over your face at that, leaning down to kiss his cheek.

“Kissing my mate,” you answer, lips brushing against his skin as you did, his stubble tickling your lips, “or are you going to tell me I can't do that either.”

“That would be cruel,” he breathes out, eyes locking on your lips when you pull back just enough.

“It would,” you say, dropping a quick peck to his lips before kissing his other cheek, traveling down his jaw. “Don't mind me, you can keep working.”

“I already finished the reports.”

“What?”

“I'm done,” he says one more time, the smile growing as you look behind you to find the files neatly arranged and ready to be delivered to your High Lord.

“You're done,” you repeat dumbly.

Azriel lets out a chuckle and nods. “I'm all yours.”

“All mine?”

He hums in response, finally kissing you properly, his scarred hands traveling down your body, caressing the exposed skin at last, moving down to hold onto your thighs. Suddenly, every bit of calmness and patience leaves your body, the feeling of his hard cock sitting inside you the only thing you can think about once again.

You're both out of breath when he pulls away, the same hunger that has been eating away at your sanity present in his eyes as he lets go of all his self control.

“How do you want me, my love?”

[mariasont]

Office Sleepover 3 - A.H

a/n: yeehaw this took me way longer than i thought but here she be

i feel like im so ass at writing smut so just bear with me yall

masterlist

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part one here! part two here!

pairings: aaron hotchner x fem!reader

summary: in which reader gets put on a hit-list and has to stay in the office (kind of based off when penelope got put on a hit-list by the dirty dozen)

warnings: 18+ MDNI, hungover reader, unwanted attention from some rando, awk as fuck reader, fingering, dirty talk, doing the dirty in the office, definitely illegal, definitely probably caught on cameras

wc: 4.2k

Everything hurt--your stomach churned, your head throbbed, and your eyes burned. You squeezed them shut, feeling your body tense against the stiff fabric of the pull-out couch. Fists curled tightly, you gradually let your eyelids part, casting a slow, sweeping glance around the room, trying to piece together what the hell happened.

Pain hammered around the inside of your head. You desperately needed a hefty dose of Advil--ten at least. As though your mind had materialized them, you rolled over to discover a bottle and a glass of water on the nightstand. You assumed you had JJ to thank, though the certainty of that was as fuzzy as your thoughts. Each effort to reconstruct last night's events was a stab to your already excruciating migraine.

You had all your clothes on, that was a plus considering your notorious history with wine and stripping. Stripping. Your hand slapped over your mouth, a floodgate of recollections bursting through--calling Hotch in a wine-induced haze, flashing your tits, asking him to stay.

You were in full-blown panic mode, the sudden urge to throw up clawing at your throat. The bed was empty, save for yourself, but you vividly remember Hotch laying down with you. This only left two possibilities: he left after you fell asleep or it had been a figment of your imagination. You were desperately hoping it was the latter.

But clearly, the universe had its own plan, because there he was, leaning against the door frame, a steaming cup of coffee in one hand and a paper bag that, by the smell of it, contained greasy food.

With a throat like sandpaper and sweaty palms, you met your boss's gaze. "Hotch," you croaked, pausing to swallow. "Um, good morning--or is it? My sleep schedule's always off after drinking. It feels bright in here, right? It's also kinda hot, is the AC working?"

You impulsively rose from the bed, a decision you instantly regretted as the room seemed to spin around you in protest.

"Sit down," he commanded, a firmness in his voice that brooked no opposition, and you promptly sat your ass back down, watching him with an expectant look.

You attempted to read his face, but it was a blank slate, making you that much more nervous. He must hate you, you figured, because you certainly hated yourself. Your boss had seen your nipples. A wave of heat washed over you, and you clenched your eyes shut, as if that could make this situation disappear.

"Here," he said, handing you the coffee and the bag, then gesturing to the Advil on the counter. "Take that, and I know you might not feel like eating, but it's necessary. The food and coffee will stabilize your blood sugar levels."

"Right, yeah, course," you nod, accepting the items with shaky hands, holding the cup with a grip that's a little too firm. "Listen, sir, I'm really sorry about last night. I promise I don't usually drink that much. I don't even know how I got that drunk, and I know I acted completely inappropriate towards you. If you need to file a complaint, I understand. Again, I'm just so sorry..."

You wanted to cry, but you held it back, knowing it would only make this whole situation worse. You deliberately avoided his eyes, focusing on anything but him while you absentmindedly toyed with the breakfast sandwich in your hands.

After a moment, he releases a soft sigh, the mattress sinking slightly as he settled beside you, his knee gently knocking yours.

"I'm aware this week's been tough on you. It's, uh, clear you weren't thinking straight, and I'm not about to make a formal issue out of a slip-up."

Your head dipped, as you tried to fend off the rising warmth in your face. "I don't think I can ever look you in the eyes again."

"That feels dramatic," he pointed out, a chuckle in his voice that made you glance his way. "Trust me, it's already forgotten."

That was a lie. He may have lacked Reid's eidetic abilities, but there was no possible, imaginative way that he would forget the image of you topless--it was imprinted in his memory. In fact, it had become the sole focus of his thoughts ever since. He silently thanked the gods that it was a Saturday, and he didn't have any pressing work issues.

"Somehow, that's not very comforting," you replied, a suppressed giggle breaking through as you met his gaze. "So, did you, um, end up staying over?"

Your cheeks glowed with a soft pink, hands unconsciously smoothing over your thighs--a nervous habit of yours he had quickly taken notice of. It emerged involuntarily when you faced tough cases, or when your computer took too long to start up, or even when the elevator made an unexpected noise.

"I did," he admitted, "You shouldn't have been alone."

Your whole body felt like it was on fire, and you were weirdly frustrated that you couldn't recall being the same bed as him, being able to feel his body against yours. You bet he was warm, and soft, and large against you.

"Thank you."

His phone went off. "Hotchner."

Your eyes followed his movements, noting the firm nods, watching as he stood, his expression hardening, jaw tightening, and hand coming to rest on his chin as he faced away from you.

The phone call was brief, and he quickly turned his attention back to you. "We've got a case."

And it was quite the case--three male victims, all in their forties. Each crime scene was close to Quantico, about twenty minutes, sparing the team any extensive travel. Though, after last night, you don't think you would have minded if they had been halfway across the country.

You were really banking on Hotch's ability to keep things professional, knowing full well that if Morgan caught wind of this, you'd be better off dead.

The team was huddled around the briefing table, absorbing Garcia's detailed rundown of the killings--they were violent to say the least--with heads bashed in and over twenty stab wounds per victim. Whoever was doing this was angry.

Hotch eventually split everyone up into tasks—Spencer and Morgan to the crime scenes, JJ and Emily interviewing the families, and Rossi was tasked with convening with the local police force. So, you know who that left at the office? You, Hotch, and Penelope. What a great group.

You avoided both of them, a pattern that had become all too familiar you had realized. Hunched over your desk, you were engrossed in sending Spencer images of your latest research on the town. True to form, he responded--Can you just fax that over to the police station?--because god forbid, he has to read it from his phone.

So, there you were, barely resisting the urge to slam your head into the fax machine. You wouldn't consider yourself technology impaired, but to say you were on friendly terms would be overstating it.

"Need help?"

"Oh, yes, please—," you began, but your voice trailed off as you noticed one of the guys from forensics hovering just a tad too close for comfort.

"They're always a bit stubborn," he noted, barely giving you space to breathe before his shoulder nudged against yours as he fiddled with the device, "just a slight...there we go."

The machine sprang into action, prompting you to step back and acknowledge his help with a nod. "Oh, thanks."

"Not a problem," he assured, stepping closer in the process, his fingers lightly brushing your thigh as he pointed out the correct button. "You see, it's all about timing," he added, his voice low and unnecessarily close, "these things can be so fussy, right?"

A subtle nod was your only response, hoping he'd take the hint that you weren't in the mood for small talk. The hangover clung stubbornly, and the whiff of his breath was a cruel taunt against the fragile peace you were maintaining over your stomach.

"So, do you find this kind of tech stuff challenging?" he asked, a little too casually. The question hung awkwardly in the air. You sought to put some distance between you, yet he matched your every move, keeping the space closed. "I mean, I'm pretty good with my hands, not just with machines honestly."

Ew.

You mustered a smile, though you were sure it was more of a grimace. The room felt smaller, the walls inching closer. "I usually manage," you responded, the strain evident in your voice.

He leaned closer, if that was possible, it was like the concept of personal space was foreign to him. "Maybe I can show you a few tricks, help you manage a little better?"

His words were light, but his proximity was anything but, almost suffocating.

Just as you were firmly about to tell him to shove it, a sharp voice beat you to it--probably for the best.

"That won't be necessary."

The forensics guy, whose name you still hadn't gotten, straightened, his smile faltering under the weight of Hotch's piercing, don't fuck with me, stare. A look usually saved for unsubs and incompetent officers, but now it singled out this man.

The same look remained on the poor guy as he directed his words to you, "why don't you join me? We need to go over some case details."

It really wasn't a question.

The man backed up instantly, mumbling something under his breath about just trying to help, but Hotch's glare followed him until he was well out of earshot.

Surprisingly, a similar sharpness was aimed at you as soon as he opened his mouth. "I'd appreciate it if you chose to flirt on your own time, not the Bureau's."

His words landed with the sting of an unexpected slap. You blinked, taken aback. "What? I wasn't--,"

But he didn't allow you time to finish. Instead, he pushed a water bottle in your hands, his eyes scrutinizing your face with such an intensity that you wished the floor would swallow you whole. "Drink. You look pale."

"Gee, thanks," you grumbled, under your breath, more to yourself than him, as he wheeled around and headed briskly for the briefing room.

Your steps lagged slightly behind him, your forehead lined with a thoughtful frown. What was that about? The way he acted--the tightness that had formed around his mouth and the harshness in his words, it was so unlike him, well, at least for it to be directed at you.

The rest of the day unfolded just as you thought it would upon waking--like shit. Hotch kept his distance, his exchanges with you brief and to the point. Every time you tried to grab his attention, hoping to clarify things (why you felt the need you weren't sure), he was already looking else, focused on literally anything but you.

It was painfully evident that he was avoiding any personal conversation with you, a realization that bit deeper than anticipated.

The office slowly emptied, the case binding you and Hotch to the briefing room, the only sounds being the faint gentle tapping of your pen and the occasional snap of your hair tie.

It was late when you finally spoke. "Hotch, this says the victim had fibers under his nails that don't match anything from the suspect's home."

Hotch's gaze snapped up to yours. "Are you saying you think the forensics team missed that?"

You met his eyes squarely, cocking your head to the side at the tone of his voice. "I'm not saying anything. I'm just pointing something out."

He bridged the space between you, his jaw set in a firm line. You could feel the warmth spreading across your cheeks as the distance dwindled.

"I'm just saying I don't want you jumping to conclusions based on underdeveloped theories."

You met his eyes with a glare, your teeth grinding together in the process. "Underdeveloped? Is that how you see my contributions now?"

The space between you had now vanished, your heart racing, finger almost poking into his chest as you spoke.

Hotch settled back against the wall, arms folded across his chest, giving you a pointed look. "I didn't say that," he replied, his voice level, markedly different from your agitated one. "We just can't afford to investigate every insignificant detail."

"Every insignificant detail?" you scoffed, "these are leads, Hotch."

His shoulders lift in an indifferent shrug that made you want to wrap your hands around his throat, and not in the good way. "Maybe. However, we need to be sure before we pursue it."

Drawing in a controlled breath, you fought to stay calm, but he was making it very hard. The sensation was all too reminiscent of college, contending with the overconfident frat boys just to voice your thoughts. That comparison may have been a tad extreme--Hotch was far from being like those insufferable boys, but he was certainly pushing your limits right now.

"I am sure. Why aren't you listening."

"I am listening," he said, but his voice was distant. "I just... I just don't want to get sidetracked, that's all."

"Sidetracked? By what, exactly?"

"I'm just not sure you're all here right now."

You felt your cheeks warming with a tinge of shame, but you pushed back, fists clenched at your sides. "I'm here, Hotch. I'm focused."

"Because last night—,"

"Last night was a mistake, okay? I got it. I already apologized for that. But I'm not irresponsible, my focus is on this case."

A lengthy pause followed, his expression unreadable. "You're certain about that?"

"Yes, I'm certain," you snapped, moving towards him again. "And for the record, JJ said you were okay with us having a few drinks."

"I was," he admitted. "But I didn't think—,"

You didn't let him finish. "What, that I'd get wasted? That I'd do something stupid? I'm sorry I'm not perfect."

"Well, yeah."

"Screw you, Hotch."

You knew that was a mistake the minute his nostrils flared, his chest now a pressing force against yours.

Then, without warning, his lips crashed into yours. A muffled oomph of surprise left you, your hands hanging motionless at first, only to quickly melt, grasping at his jacket, pulling him into you.

It wasn't a gentle kiss, nor was it kind, but it was magic, exceeding anything you could have imagined, setting every fiber of you on fire. His lips pressed against yours with an intensity that drew out a breathy sigh, arousal tingling through you, and your passion rose to meet his, equally hungry, equally desperate.

Your fantasies had never done him justice--kissing him was intoxicating, and now you could feel yourself getting lost in the sensation, realizing it was everything you never dared to hope for.

Drawing back just enough, his hands drew you closer, pressing against the dip of your back, his breath fusing with yours in a dizzying blend, making the air seem scarce.

Against the soft pressure of his lips, you murmured, "I wasn't flirting."

There's a pause as his eyes locked on yours, searching, questioning. Then, his hand settled at the side of your neck. "You better not have been."

Any witty comeback you had dissipated as his lips crashed against yours again, more urgently this time, his hands tracing every contour of your clothed body with an insatiable curiosity.

His grip tightened around your waist, effortlessly lifting you onto the briefing table's cold surface with a resounding thud, his palms then cradling your thighs. Documents and files fluttered beneath you, hopefully they weren't too important. His eyes, dark pools of brown, were meticulously scanning your face.

"You," he breathes out, his voice a low rumble laced with something you couldn't quite place, "have consumed my thoughts since the moment I discovered you on my couch." He inches closer, his breath scorching your cheek as his fingers waltzed a pattern up your thighs. "Do you understand that feeling? The intense frustration?"

You were rendered motionless, frozen in place, scared to even twitch and risk this all being a very realistic wet dream. This was Hotch, your boss, the man defined by his lack of outward emotion. To think that you--of all people--could have an effect on him was an overwhelming concept. The room seemed to tilt on its axis as he gently guided your legs apart, positioning himself between them.

"Y-Yeah, I know," you uttered unevenly, your thoughts scattering as your hands tentatively reached for his collar.

"So, you know what it's like, huh?"

Your nod was subtle, a flustered smile briefly lighting up your expressions.

"And?" he prompts, while his fingers explore the shape of your thighs, squeezing gently.

You squirm under his gaze, the intensity of it making your heart race inside your chest.

"And... it's annoying," you confess, puffing out a breath, trying sound annoyed, but the delicate blush dusting your nose gave you away, you were sure.

"Annoying?" Hotch repeats, his hand tenderly angling your face upward, his smile laced with a taunt. "Is that all?"

You rolled your eyes, a reluctant smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. "It's distracting," your voice was softer now, desire pooling in your belly as you grasp just how compromising of a position you were in.

"Distracting," he tsked, echoing you once again as he nodded solemnly, pulling your hips into his. Your mouth parted in an 'o' of surprise, your gaze lifting to meet his. "Have I been the subject of your thoughts, then?"

Your head dipped in a nod, your fingers brushing against his firm chest, a soft blush coloring your cheeks. "Maybe a little, in a totally platonic boss-employee type of way."

"Oh yeah?"

You caught your lip between your teeth, considering your next words very carefully. "Well, maybe more than a little, and maybe more than just a boss."

"Oh, wow," his breath was a warm hover over your lips, hanging in the space between you. You ached for the tase of him again, rich with dark expresso and spiced cinnamon. It was a lovely combination. "Sounds serious."

You released a hushed giggle, a light note floating between you as your foreheads met. "It's not like I can help it."

"And why is that?"

"Because," you paused, wetting your lips in anticipation, "you're infuriatingly unforgettable, that's why."

"I'll take that as a compliment."

"You would."

He was kissing you again. This time a little softer, unhurried, and the whole reason for your argument faded into nothingness. Although if insubordination led to this sweet consequence, it might just become a habit.

His lips traced a path down your throat, prompting your head to tilt back, baring the expanse of your skin to his exploration. Your legs wrapped around his waist, drawing him impossibly close. The world seemed distant, the sensation dreamlike, buoyed by the soft lull of a lust-induced haze.

Reason gave way to impulse; your hands lost in the softness of his hair, your back arching to his hands grasping at your ass, your clothed pussy grinding against his erection.

His hands hesitated, hovering as he reached for your top, his eyes holding yours. "Is this okay?"

You nodded, more eagerly than necessary, but that still wasn't good enough for him.

"I need a verbal yes or no."

Desperation clung to you, a needy sigh escaping you as you squirmed into his touch, his hands halting your restless movements. "Yes, please, Hotch."

"You were so eager to call me Aaron last night. Say it again."

"Aaron, please, I need you to touch me," your voice rang out, imbued with such sweetness making his length constrict against the fabric of his slacks.

His fingers deftly navigated to the hem of your shirt, sliding it over your head with a fluid motion. Your bra was next, its clasp yielding effortlessly to his touch, your tits releasing with a gentle bounce, and he fought back a groan as his large hands enveloped them.

"Every bit as perfect as I remembered," he said, his fingers skillfully pulling and twisting at the nubs as you brought you forehead to meet his, a breathy gasp tumbling from your lips at the contact.

You arched your back into his heads as he let out a soft chuckle, loving the way your body reacting to him. Your eyes held a glazed-over look, lips parted ever so slightly, and you looked up at him expectantly in way that could surely kill him. 

His hands moved slowly down your sides before brushing the sensitive skin under your waist band. You swallowed a gasp, moving your hips into his again, rolling yourself against his stiff erection.

His palms pressed against your hips. "Slow down. Let me take my time with you, yeah?"

You were at his discretion; he could ask you to jump into oncoming traffic right now and you'd probably say yes.

A nod was all you could manage as you fought the urge to move, every muscle tensed, waiting for him to make the first move, but god was it hard. You couldn't really believe this was happening, until the solid press of his thumb against your clit brought the moment into sharp focus. 

"Aaron, god," you gasped, your hands tangled in the hair at the nape of his neck. Your teeth found your bottom lip harshly, trying not to show him just how easily you could come apart right now.

"Is that good, honey?"

Honey. You could practically feel the arousal dripping your thighs as you nodded eagerly.

The pad of his thumb glided between your folds, gathering the slickness to continue his assault against your swollen clit. You buried your face deeper into his suit jacket, attempting to stifle the embarrassing sounds that you couldn't seem to contain. 

A whine of protest filled the space between you as his hand slipped away from your pants. His eyes bore into you as he gathered the strands at the back of your neck, guiding your gaze to yours. 

"None of that. Let me hear you gorgeous."

"Aaron, please, I need your fingers inside me, please."

You were painfully aware of how ridiculous you sounded, knew that if anyone else was in the office right now, you'd be so screwed, fired probably, but as his fingers dipped into your cunt those concerns dissolved quickly.

"Since you asked so nicely."

He was torturing you--his pace aggravatingly slow, working in and out of you as you tried to fight the overwhelming desire to slam your legs shut. It was so much, yet not enough. You ground yourself against his hands as his other hand clamped around your back, keeping you from falling back.

"That's it, baby, fuck yourself on my fingers."

His eyes were dark, pupils dilated, his chest rising and falling in a way that only seemed to spur you on, doing exactly as he ordered. His words felt foreign in your ears, before today you could never imagine him talking like this, so vulgarly. 

"Aaron, I-I need—," you paused, your eyes falling to his pants, more specifically the hardened cock inside them.

"Yeah? Is that what you want?"

"Yes, fuck, please," you gasped as his fingers hit that one spot just right. Your head lolled back as you clutched at his collar, his arm behind you keeping you in place.

"Watch your mouth," he said, and for some reason that was enough to send you right over that never ending ledge, your stomach coiling, heat spreading under your skin, every part of you ached.

"Oh—, Aaron, I-I'm—," you were a blubbering mess, rocking without mercy against his fingers, his thumb brushing against your nub in a way that made you feel like you had met your maker.

"That's it, baby, go ahead."

That was enough for you, your walls clenching around his fingers, back arching into him and you swore for a minute you could see stars. He helped you ride out your high.

You were wholeheartedly convinced; this was heaven. You had died and gone to heaven and the first one to greet you was Hotch, his hands tracing soothing patterns on your bare skin in an attempt to bring you back down to Earth. 

Just as you were about to reach for his pants, determined to feel him inside of you, his phone went off. Of fucking course. He shot you an apologetic look, the sound a wake-up call, pulling you both from the lust-fueled moment. 

He moved back with a couple steps, offering nods and muted words to whoever was calling at 12 am. You were suddenly extremely aware of your appearance--topless and on the briefing table for crying out loud. 

You attempted to stand, your legs betraying you with a wobble that had him instantly clasping your arm firmly, his attention flickering from the phone to the tremors in your stance. You gave him a small in return as if to say I'm fine.

You reached across the table, grabbing your shirt from its discarded state, not bothering with the bra as you dressed quickly. He cleared his throat, causing you to turn, just in time to see his phone disappear into his pocket.

"That was the Stafford police chief, there was another murder," he explained.

"Oh, right, okay, um..." you started, your brain racing into overdrive as you instinctively moved towards the door. "I just need to..."

Your movement was too quick, a dizzying spin that resulted in you tumbling into Hotch's solid frame. His reflexes were immediate, hands clasping onto you once again, preventing you from landing straight into him.

"Whoa, hey, are you okay?" he asked, brows knitting in a frown, "take a second."

"Yeah, um, yeah, I'm good," you managed to get out, even as heat suffused your face. "Just need to get changed, uh, can't imagine either of us want to the team to find me like this."

"Right."

He was still frowning, and you wanted nothing more than to kiss away the harsh lines of his forehead, but you were sure he wouldn't appreciate the gesture. 

You made a beeline for your office, the door's thud barely registering over pulsating rush in your ears. God, you were so screwed.

taglist: @chronicallybubbly @aremuslupinsimp @sky2nd @thisisdaisytrying @ryswritingrecord

[heechwe]

beam me up | 𝐜𝐬𝐛

୨୧ pairing: choi soobin x fem!reader ୨୧ word count: 3.5k ୨୧ genre: lots of fluff, smidges of comedy, smut ୨୧ tags: parents!au, married!au, established relationship!au, body (mostly chest) worship, pet names (love, bunny, baby, etc), oral (f receiving), fingering, breeding kink, lactation kink, unprotected sex, down bad soobin essentially. ୨୧ synopsis: Going out after having a baby should be a breeze. So what if you don't feel incredibly confident? So what if you both act like awkward teenagers on your first date? It's you and Soobin, and that's all that matters. ➸ bless my pals @lovetaroandtaemin, @xomakara, and @heesuncore for reading this behemoth ilysm

Why am I so nervous? You think to yourself as you swipe the mauve shade in your hand across your bottom lip. Its light pigment prevents staining, yet provides noticeable definition, just enough to stand out. Your hair is in a low bun, two stray bangs falling over your cheeks. With your makeup and floral midi dress, you feel confident enough to step out and leave the house without becoming riddled with anxious thoughts.

The demands of motherhood have been hefty, but you clean up well. And despite all the dirty diapers and staying awake pumping, you’re ready to spend one night simply as Soobin’s wife. Perhaps a night out in town with your husband is exactly what you both need after three months of being parents.

It’s been picture perfect, without question. Minyoung has her father‘s pout when she sleeps, your long eyelashes, and the softness of a human being well beyond her years. But, you can’t deny that you miss the days where it was just you and Soobin in your own bubble.

Perhaps tonight, you can discover a balance where your old and new life blend harmoniously.

You step out into the living room to see Soobin with his mother, your daughter asleep in her grandmother’s arms. Soobin holds a laundry list of instructions in one hand and her car-seat in the other, waving his hands in frantic motions. “She usually naps like this for about two hours, but if she sleeps more, that’s even better. And then—“

Soobin stops short and looks back at you when he senses your presence. Your in-law and husband stare at you in disbelief. The frayed edges of your appearance from a few hours ago are nowhere to be seen.

Soobin looks at you like you hang the moon. His smile is small in the presence of his mother, him trying to maintain some semblance of modesty, but it’s ‌electric. “You look beautiful.” He sets the car-seat down on the floor to free his hand, reaching it out for you to take.

You do it gladly, smiling from ear to ear. Soobin also cleans up well, his button up tucked in his cargo pants. He’s always dressed a bit like a dad in training, and now he fits the bill‌. “You don’t look too bad yourself, Binnie.”

His face turns a shade of pink at the nickname, unable to hide your effect on him. He turns back to his mother and refers to the paper in his hand. “If you need something that isn’t in her diaper bag, please‌—“

“Soobin, I can handle it. Just spend the night with your lovely wife.” His mother winks at you and takes the car seat from him. “I promise to bring her back in the morning in one piece.”

You and Soobin kiss the top of Minyoung’s soft head and say your goodbyes, both of your hearts clenching. It’s the first time you’ve been apart from her for more than an hour or two, so the prospect is daunting, at the very least. “Be good for grandma, lil’ bun,” Soobin whispers to her sleeping figure.

When your mother-in-law leaves, Soobin looks back at you with a mixture of excitement, anxiety, and desire. “Ready to go?”

You nod, sharing the same concoction of emotions. Most importantly, though, you’re relieved to finally have some alone time together. Wherever the night takes you is anyone’s guess. “Definitely.”

You both sit at the table in the restaurant like it’s your first date. Uncertain about what to expect once the meal ends, full of nerves and anticipation.

Soobin finds it hard to make eye contact with you, his eyes moving across the entire room. He can’t help it when you look so beautiful. You always do, but tonight is different. He’s been so stuck in the haze of being a new dad, it’s like he’s seeing you clearly again. Now, he doesn’t know what to do with himself.

You’ve been married for half a decade, ‌yet every time he sees you, he falls deeper. It’s the first time for him every second he gets to touch you, kiss you, tell you how much you matter to him.

With a child, his feelings have only amplified. He looks at Minyoung some mornings and sees all the features he loves about you and vice versa in one human, his pride as great as his love.

But, instead of revealing he’s in the throes of intense admiration for you in the small Italian restaurant, he turns his focus back to the menu in his hands and looks over the wine list.

The appetizer you shared a few minutes ago has made him thirsty for some alcohol, it seems. “I know you have water, but do you want some Pinot, too? Oh! They have Moscato! I know that’s your favorite.”

It’s the way his eyes light up and his mouth curves into that signature O that makes you giggle‌, unable to contain it.

“What’s so funny?” Soobin looks up from his menu with mirth.

“Nothing at all, Binnie. I’m just happy.”

Your chest pinches at his soft reaction to your words, him looking over his menu at you with bright eyes.

Soobin has always been a goofball, intentionally or not, but it’s what makes him the best partner, among his many qualities. He knows when to be serious, taking the reins when necessary, but he’s well-versed in lightening the mood when you need it.

It’s surreal sometimes thinking about how you lucked out.

Suddenly, your thoughts cease thanks to the rising discomfort from your breasts. It started as an unnoticeable pinch when you gave your drink and light food order, but now it’s full-on pain erupting in your chest.

Why is it so uncomfortable?

You feel the droplets of milk settling into the fabric of your dress, your question answered in a flash.

The impending concern rises on Soobin’s face when he notices your scrunched-up brows and mouth. Then, he sees the two small wet patches forming on your chest. Immediately, he shucks off his jean jacket to give you. “Here baby, take this.”

A deep blush forms on your cheeks when you cover up with his garment. You’re unsure how to broach the subject or the rest of dinner in this state, immediately self-conscious. “I’m sorry. This is so embarrassing, I—”

“Baby, no. Don’t be sorry, it’s normal.” Soobin says the words with so much empathy, you could cry from that alone. You excuse yourself to use the bathroom and clean yourself up, not listening to the words that leave his lips in rapid succession. You’re a mom. It happens to every mom at some point! I love you!

Soobin feels useless, knowing no words he says will assuage your shame. He decides now is as good of a time as any to check up on Minyoung. It’s been almost three hours since he’s talked to his mother.

When the line rings, Soobin doesn’t let it bother him. Minyoung probably needed a burping or night-time bath. No big deal.

By the second unsuccessful attempt at contact, his heart drops into his stomach. What if something’s wrong? As he tries to call for the third and fourth time, his thoughts spiral further.

What if his mother rushed out with Minyoung and she forgot to bring her cell because it was so serious? He knows babies usually are out of the woods for colic by the third or fourth month, but anything’s possible, right?

Parental anxiety is one thing, a feeling Soobin knows well by now, but his instincts are usually spot-on. And something has to be going on if his mother isn’t getting back to him.

You trot over to the table, tucking Soobin’s jacket tighter around your chest so it doesn’t flap open. The event may have been embarrassing at the moment, but you’re ready to get the night back on track and focus on your husband.

You smile eagerly, not noticing the way Soobin’s face has gone stark white. “I think I got most of it, but—“

“We have to go. Something’s wrong.”

You don’t think twice, practically stealing Soobin’s keys from his pocket when he stands up. The two of you race out of the restaurant and to your little girl, your thoughts newly scrambled in the worst ways.

Soobin tries to knock on his parents’ door without slamming his fist against the wood, but he can’t help it. So many scenarios have built up in his head since his intuition kicked in. He could barely say one word on the drive to his mother’s. The silence was palpable in the air, both of your bodies filled to the brim with fear and regret for leaving her for one second.

Soobin’s mother answers the door with a shocked expression. “Honey, what are you two—“

Soobin barrels past her and into the house. You follow hot on his heels. His pace is quick, his voice loud as he calls out Minyoung’s name like she’s able to answer him back.

Then, you find Minyoung perfectly content. Soobin’s dad has her in his arms at the dinner table, feeding her a bottle of milk. “Hey, kids. Why are you here?”

Soobin stutters when he responds. “M-Mom wasn’t answering and we—“

“Oh, lord.” You hear her deep groan pervade the small kitchen. “You left the restaurant for that?”

“What were we supposed to think?” Your words are full of defense, lighthearted now that you’re not in panic mode. Were your worst thoughts so unexpected? You felt bad enough leaving your daughter alone with people you trusted just for a night of solitude. If something worse had happened, the guilt would’ve been too much to bear.

Soobin rushes over to Minyoung and takes her from his father’s arms. Droplets of milk spill from her lips, but she doesn’t care. She reaches up to touch Soobin, her little nails gliding across his face. “Daddy’s here, Minnie.” He presses his forehead to hers, smiling proudly. “I’m right here.”

You tear up at the image in front of you, relieved to see your baby girl out of harm’s way. Even if the harm was entirely imaginary, you’re calmer nonetheless.

Soobin walks towards you and kisses the crown of your head. “Sorry I pulled a false alarm, baby.”

Although you’ll never tell him, you don’t mind that he did so. He’s an incredible husband and father, always on alert for the two of you and putting his needs to the wayside. You have to remind him every day to also think of himself, and he appreciates you looking out for him in the same fashion.

You shake your head and move Minyoung from Soobin’s arms to yours. You kiss her chubby cheeks and she coos at the attention, the spitting image of her father. “Daddy is gonna be the death of me, isn’t he, baby girl?”

Soobin chuckles into your hair and holds onto one of Minyoung’s fists with his palm. “Not if I can help it.”

“Now that you both have made sure she’s okay, go back to your date night!” Your mother-in-law strides into the dining room to pluck Minyoung from your grip. Minyoung is more than comfortable with it, smiling widely into her grandmother’s neck. “It’s rude enough that you both interrupted your dinner time and ours.” She turns to speak directly to Minyoung. “Right, sweetie? How dare they!”

“It’s officially off, I promise.” Soobin puts his phone in the glove-box once he parks the car in the downtown parking garage, determined to make the rest of the date night go off without a hitch.

You laugh and take his hand in yours, interlacing your fingers. “So much for low-key and relaxing, right?”

“Hey!” He points at you with his other hand. “It’s only 8 PM. The night’s still young.”

“Well, we’re not gonna be able to go back to the restaurant now. Not after I practically gave out my milk for free.” You cover your face with the palm not wrapped in your husband’s, but he takes that one too.

“Stop it,” he chides with a stern pout. “Even if you leaked through your shirt every time we went out, you’d still be more beautiful than every other person on the planet.”

You tease, "You're just saying that."

“I mean it! Do you see how gorgeous and incredible Minyoung is? That’s half your handiwork.”

You roll your eyes, but your body lights from within at his words. “She’s half yours too. You probably didn’t notice, but every waitress was checking you out.”

Soobin blushes hard, suddenly shy. “They were not.”

“Yes, they were. I can’t blame them, though. Parenthood has made you ten times sexier.”

Soobin quirks an eyebrow, the undercurrent of passion in your words unmistakable. He gets closer to you until your faces are barely an inch apart. His lips ghost over yours. “I could say the same about you. I’ve only had eyes for you, but even more so now that you’ve had my baby.”

You gulp, noticing how hard your thighs are clenching in your seat. Soobin notices too, holding one of your knees in his hand with a smirk. “Binnie, I’m not hungry for food anymore.”

He presses his lips to yours slowly. You moan into his mouth from such exquisite pleasure that’s been long overdue. He glides his tongue in between your lips as he palms one of your breasts over his jacket. When he takes his mouth from yours, he’s breathing heavily. “I was gonna say the same thing.”

It’s a clash of teeth and tongue when you make it inside the house. Hands run over curves and skin to take off the restricting clothing, appearances be damned.

You discard Soobin’s button-up somewhere in the hallway as he pulls your hair loose from your bun, clutching the strands at your nape to expose more of your neck. He riddles your skin with love bites before you even make it to the bedroom, but you both love it. How feral and frantic you are for one another, no children or external restrictions holding you back.

By the time your body hits the king-sized bed, all that’s left on you, garments-wise, is your thin bralette and mismatched underwear. Soobin looks over your body with a hunger that’s unshakeable. The poor man’s probably salivating at the mouth by now, just like you. 

Ever since the doctor’s six-week ban on any physically strenuous activity, he couldn’t imagine dry-humping without fear of hurting you. That timeline came and went in a flash, but with the fatigue of daily life, it seemed impossible to find time to be intimate.

Until now, that is.

“How did I get so lucky? You’re angelic.” Soobin spreads his palms out over your chest. His long fingers squeeze your breasts over the confines of your lingerie, making you moan. “I have to take this off, bunny. I need to see you.”

You feel heat pooling at your center from his gaze, his words, his touches on your skin. You unclasp the clips holding your bra together and flick it away, not breaking eye contact the entire time.

He used to be so shy during sex, and now he wastes no time unzipping his pants to touch himself. “Fucking perfect,” he grunts, staring at the pebbling of your nipples and the volume of your tits from lactation. He spreads the pooling pre-cum in his hand to rub his cock earnestly.

You whimper and clench around nothing, the center of your underwear incredibly damp. Why did he get to have all the fun and leave you frustrated? “Binnie, please touch me.”

“Gladly.” He uses the hand not holding his dick to yank your underwear off and throw them in a corner of your room. Once the fabric is gone, he dives in between your legs. His licks start small, kitten-like in their touch, but soon he grows hungrier, more dominant. Eating you out has always been one of his favorite things during sex, like it's the only thing he needs to do to sustain himself.

“You taste amazing. You always do.” He stops jerking himself off to press two fingers inside of you without warning, mixing his essence with yours on his way to your warm and wet walls. His lips and tongue remain attached to your clit as he prods you soft and slow.

“God, it feels so good.” You raise your hips to match the rhythm of his hand inside of you. Despite being eager to keep his mouth between your legs, you reach down for him, wanting to feel his lips on yours again. “I want you up here with me.”

Soobin smiles gently before crawling up the expanse of your body. He looks down at you, unable to hide how strong his desire runs in his veins. But instead of his declarations of love that he’s said a million times before, he greets you with a deep kiss to your lips and pushes his fingers back into your cunt.

You moan into his mouth. “Jesus fuck, babe.” You whimper as he leans his head down to latch his mouth to one of your nipples, still ramming his hand deeper into you. Some milk sinks onto his tongue and dribbles past his chin, but he doesn’t care. If anything, it turns him on more. His cock produces more pre-cum and spreads onto your bedsheets.

“I want you inside of me, Soobin.” You spread your legs wider for him to settle into, and he does.

He rubs the head of his cock across your slit before nestling inside fully, his mouth opening in a large gasp as he fills you. “It always feels like the first time, bunny. Always so tight for me, fuck.”

His pace is reverent, driven by his lust, his love for you, and his desire to make this experience as incredible as it already is for him. He rubs your clit between his fingers, and your face contorts into absolute pleasure after a few minutes like that, privy to every feeling. When you fall apart, your body clenching around him in ecstasy, the moment is too beautiful for Soobin to handle. It’s a picture he wants to tattoo on his heart forever.

You could have done anything in this life, and by his luck and the universe’s grace, you were led straight to him and have given him some of the greatest gifts he could ever ask for. Your love, your hand in marriage, your children.

He would follow you anywhere without question. And he may not always believe it, but he also holds all the same powers over you. Without him, the world would be a lot duller, no color to define the edges and details of the life that you’ve built together. He makes it all worth it.

So when his next words leave his mouth, you can’t help but agree with them, the thought too beautiful in the throes of your desire to say no to. “I want to fill you up, bunny. Have another baby with you, as many as you want. So beautiful like this, but you’re even more beautiful heavy and pregnant, shit,” he moans, eyes screwed shut as he chases his own orgasm.

“Yes, Binnie, fill me up. Come inside of me, give me another. Pretty please?”

Those two words are his undoing, the blade that severs the cord that’s been slowly tightening in his stomach since he saw you in your dress five hours ago. He spills inside of you, your insides hot with his release. He doesn’t let any part of it go to waste, fucking it into you until his hips can’t go for much longer.

He lies beside you, both of your chests heaving. And while the moment was an amalgamation of intense passion, you both look at each other and laugh like teenagers. It takes you back to that first night, the first “I love you,” all the first you’ve shared and the ones that are yet to come.

“You’re my best friend, you know that, right?” He rubs your bare arm as he stares deeply into your eyes, more in love than he was a second ago. “I could not have found anyone better to be my wife and my children’s mother than you.” He kisses you on the forehead, his lips featherlight. “I love you.”

You may be incredibly hormonal, any words that make your heart seize up more than likely to cause a well of tears in your eyes. But these don’t. They make your heart lighter, shoot all your fears down, and quell any insecurities that have sprung to the surface since the two of you have become parents.

“I love you, Binnie. In this lifetime and all the other ones,” you respond. You snuggle into his chest, feeling the tempo of his heartbeat against your ear.

Everyone told you both how hard having kids would be. You know you’re not in the home stretch, not in the slightest, but with Soobin, no mountain you’ll come across is insurmountable.

All because he’s yours and you’re his.

@yvnempire @sjylouvre @mini-mews @jayparked @heesuncore @yoursjaeyun @sungbeams @jenoslutie @loserlvrss @pars-ley @lovetaroandtaemin @wonwovy @hursheys

𝐧𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 ౨ৎ˚₊

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[roosterforme]

Party of Three, Checking In | Rooster x Reader

Summary: According to Bradley, your pregnancy was one of the most exciting things that had ever happened. He could see and sense the small changes in your body, and he was already getting into dad mode. And now, after weeks of waiting, he could finally talk about it whenever he wanted to.

Warnings: Fluff, swearing, allusions to smut, pregnancy topics

Length: 3300 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order.

Bradley had you half undressed on your bed with his hands on your hips and his lips on yours. You had no doubt that he was excited. You could feel him. His mustache prickled your nose, and you moaned, trying to get more friction against your body. You needed more of him everywhere, but he slowly started to pull away. He was distracted. His eyes were drifting to the nightstand, and you knew what he was looking for.

"Holy shit," he gasped, reaching to grab the pile of ultrasound images. He managed to persuade your doctor to print twenty of them for him at your appointment two hours ago. And he just couldn't seem to put them down even as you wrapped your legs around him and laughed.

"Roo, you're being a tease."

He groaned and looked at the pictures and then at your face. "I'm not trying to, Baby Girl. I'm just so fucking excited." His cheeks were flushed, and his pupils were blown wide as he added, "I can't get over how much the chicken nugget grew."

You bit your lip and ran your fingers through his already messy hair. The baby was starting to resemble an actual baby and not just a nugget. The heartbeat was strong, and everything was going great. You didn't even feel as sick as you did a few weeks ago. But Bradley was leaving very soon for another deployment, and you didn't want to rush him through his feelings. 

When you leaned up and pressed your lips to the paper airplane tattoo on his right bicep, his attention returned to you. "You'll be the best Daddy in the world," you promised.

"Sweetheart," he moaned, finally giving you some of that friction you needed with his big, warm body. "Call me Daddy again."

You ran your tongue over his tattoo before you whispered, "Daddy."

He tossed the ultrasound photos aside, and then his lips met your belly. "I love you. I love you both so much. I'm so excited."

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

On Saturday morning, it was hard to be upset about his upcoming deployment when Bradley took one good look at you. Your eyes were bright, and your smile was wide as you carried the iPad and a few of the ultrasound photos over to where he was sitting on the couch waiting. 

"You ready for this?" he asked, kissing along your neck as you turned the tablet on. "God, you smell good."

"Probably because I spilled coffee on my shirt," you murmured. 

Bradley grinned as you started up the facetime call to your parents. You were wearing his old shirt, and he ran his nose along your ear and whispered, "You always smell nice."

You made a soft sound as the iPad rang. "You're just extra horny for me right now because of the Nugget."

"Perhaps," he replied, fully knowing he was usually like this. "But you're over the top for me right now, so it's only fair."

"Hi!"

Bradley jumped a few inches away from you as your mom answered the call. "Hey, mom," you said with a smile as you tried to pull Bradley's hand out from under the shirt you were wearing. When he looked at himself on the tablet screen, he realized his cheeks were flushed, so he scooted a couple more inches away from you and tried to keep his hands to himself. 

"Wait, hang on and I'll get Dad." Your mom vanished from view, but Bradley could hear her calling your father's name loudly throughout their house. 

"They are going to lose their minds," you whispered excitedly as you laced your fingers with his. The two of you had been waiting until after your twelve week appointment to start telling family and friends about your pregnancy. On top of your nausea finally starting to calm down, you looked absolutely stunning. Bradley could finally admit that yes, your ass was looking a little bigger these days, but definitely in a good way. You kept telling him you were bloated, but he thought you looked like a fucking goddess. There was just something extra delightful about your tits now, too....

"Hi," your dad huffed, clearly out of breath as he and your mom both appeared on the call. "Sorry, I was outside getting ready to cut the grass."

You turned to look at Bradley, and he nodded at you with a little grin. "We won't keep you too long. We just wanted to tell you something."

"Is everything okay?" your mom asked, brow furrowed as she leaned a little closer to the screen. "Bradley, did something happen with your deployment? Is it longer now?"

"No," he replied immediately, because she sounded so worried. "We're calling about something exciting. Well, we're excited about it, and we think you will be, too."

Your parents still looked confused as you leaned in to kiss his cheek. Then you held up one of the new photos of the nugget and said, "I'm pregnant. You're going to be grandparents."

Your dad gasped, and your mom was immediately shoving her reading glasses onto her face to get a better look. "Grandparents?" your dad asked with a smile, but your mom shrieked. 

"Grandparents," Bradley confirmed a little louder over the delighted screaming.

"Oh my god!" your mom wailed, shaking her husband. "We have to move to California. Take the early retirement package. We have to move! We're going to be grandparents!" Then she looked back at the iPad as you started to laugh. "I'll call our realtor on Monday, and I'll start looking at listings in San Diego again. When are you due? I wonder if we can move by the spring!"

"Late March," you told her as you held the ultrasound images a little closer to the camera for your dad to look at while your mom started to pace.

"Kind of looks like a cute chicken nugget," your dad said with a soft smile. 

"Right?!" Bradley said excitedly. "That's what I've been saying!"

Your dad reached for your mom and finally got her to stop walking around the kitchen in a daze. "Your mom and I have been talking about moving anyway, and being in a warmer climate near the two of you.... I mean the three of you... would probably be ideal."

Bradley noticed a few happy tears in your eyes as well as your mom's. "That would be great, dad," you whispered.

A few minutes later, you and your mom were all giggles as you ended the call, and Bradley couldn't stop smiling either. After you tossed the iPad and the photos onto the coffee table, you crawled onto his lap and cupped his face in both of your hands. "I can't wait to tell everyone at the Hard Deck tonight," you whispered, letting your forehead rest against his.

"Nat is going to lose her fucking mind," he muttered, his lips brushing yours. "She spent years picking on me for being unwilling to settle down, and now we're having a kid."

Truthfully, he never minded. Nat kind of became his family after his mom died; she was the first person he really opened up to. She was there to witness the aftermath of his one night stands and his adamant insistence that bachelorhood was what he wanted. He just never knew he could have a partner until he met you. 

You raked your fingers through his hair, soothing him in that way that only you could as you kissed the scars on his cheek. Then you whispered, "I'm glad we told your parents first."

Somehow you always knew what to say and when to say it. Bradley tightened his hold on you until your chest was pressed to his. "You made that happen," he muttered. "Because you're perfect."

Your cheek came to rest on his shoulder, and Bradley could hear tears in your eyes as you said, "I wish I could have met them."

"Don't cry, Baby Girl. My parents are smiling somewhere at the thought of the nugget. I just know it."

It took Bradley a minute to realize that your soft breathing and limp arms around him meant that you were asleep, and he had to try not to shake you with his silent laughter. He knew you were exhausted so he sat quietly with your body cradled against his, looking forward to the day when he could hold you in one arm and the baby in the other. 

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

Everyone seemed to think the whole purpose of the night out at the Hard Deck was to wish Bradley and Reuben good luck on their upcoming special deployment, and that was fine with you. That was part of the reason you tried to get everyone to come out on Saturday evening for a drink, but it wasn't the only reason.

"You ready to go?" Bradley asked as he walked into the bedroom where you were still getting dressed. You took one look at him in his snuggest fitting pair of jeans and the tropical print shirt that matched the one you were wearing. You squeaked softly.

"Almost." But now you were thinking about just staying home, unzipping his jeans and getting in bed. "You look hot."

He smirked and picked up the ultrasound photos as you struggled to button your own jeans which were starting to feel a little tight now just like your uniform pants. "And you look like I'm gonna fuck you hard into the bed later tonight."

"Let's stay home," you said quickly, but he was already shaking his head.

"I want everyone to know about the nugget before I deploy. You'll just have to whine and bug for me to bring you home from the bar earlier rather than later."

You rolled your eyes but led the way out to the kitchen where you pulled a bottle of Gatorade from the refrigerator. It was icy cold, and you knew it was going to taste delicious, but you didn't want to open it until you got there. Bradley led you outside to his Bronco and buckled you in after he handed you the pictures of the baby. It wasn't a long drive to the Hard Deck, and the two of you started taking bets about who was going to cry.

"Mav will shed some tears," Bradley rasped as he drove.

"No, he won't!" you insisted. "But Maria will. And so will Bob and Penny."

"There's no way Bob will cry."

"He will!"

"Nah. But I think you're underestimating how sappy Maverick can get."

You shook your head as he pulled into the parking lot. "What if everyone cries?Oh my god, what if nobody cries?" you asked as you walked along, holding his hand.

"Nat is a given," Bradley said, leaning down to kiss your cheek as he pulled the door open for you to walk into the noisy bar. "Just wait."

With your fingers laced together, you and Bradley headed right for the bar where Penny was taking a handful of orders. When she caught sight of the two of you, she held up two fingers. "This is where the fun begins," you whispered as Bradley held up just one finger in response. Penny looked a little confused, but she got just one bottle of your favorite beer ready instead of two. When she set it down, you asked, "Penny, could I get a straw for my Gatorade?"

"Sure," she told you with narrowed eyes, reaching for a straw without taking her eyes off you as you opened your drink. "Here you go."

"Thanks!" you replied cheerfully. When you walked away with Bradley's big hand resting just above your butt, you felt her eyes following the two of you. "I think she's suspicious."

"Excellent," Bradley murmured before taking a sip of his beer. The first person to greet both of you near the pool table was Reuben who would be leaving with Bradley on this dreaded deployment. 

"What's up man?" he asked your husband before leaning down and pulling you in for a hug. "Hey, can you bake some of those cookies I like and send them away with Rooster?"

You laughed and pecked him on the cheek. "Yes. As long as you look after him for me."

"I always do," he told you with a wink. He looked at your drink and asked, "You want something from the bar?"

"Nope," you told him, hoisting your plastic bottle a little higher as Bradley's hand slid lower to your butt. "I'm all set."

"O-kay," he said, looking as puzzled as Penny. Everyone was used to seeing you and Bradley with matching beers in your hands, including Cam and Maria who both materialized next to you.

"Which aviators are single again?" Cam asked, glancing around so suspiciously you snorted.

Maria smirked and said, "Not Bradley. Not Jake. Not Bob."

You gasped as you looked at Bob leaning on the edge of the pool table lining up a shot next to Maverick. "You made it official? You're not just fucking and cuddling with him all night?"

"It's official," she said, smiling at him when he looked up at her. Then she turned back to you. "Want me to get you a beer or a tequila shot or something?"

"No, I'm good," you told her, tapping her drink with your Gatorade. 

"Mmmk," she said, giving you a bit of side eye as she walked away. Now Bradley was talking to Jake and Cat about his deployment. They were the only two here who already knew you were pregnant and that tonight was supposed to be the unveiling.

"Nobody guessed yet?" Cat whispered to you. "I've never seen you drink anything except a beer when you're out for the night."

You shook your head and laughed. "Give it another minute." 

When Bradley's hand slid down to cup your butt through your jeans, you had to press your lips together to keep from giggling. He kept telling you that the way you were filling out your pants was working for him, and you'd taken to wearing yoga pants around the house with more frequency as a result. 

"Here she comes," Bradley rasped next to your ear, sending a ripple of anticipation down your spine as his best friend came barrelling your way. He gave you a little pat and pushed you toward Phoenix.

"Hey, Nat," you greeted with a smile.

"What is this shit?" she asked, wrinkling her nose at your Gatorade. "I'll get you a real drink." Then she glanced at Bradley where he was hovering next to you with a grin. "The two of you look like idiots in your matching shirts, and I am not saying that with love."

He burst out laughing. "Thanks, Nat."

"Let's get that drink," she said, but then her eyes shifted between Bradley's face and yours as you brought the straw up to your lips and took a long sip. Bradley's hand migrated from your butt, wrapping around your waist and pulling you slightly in front of him as his palm came to rest on your belly over your tropical button down. 

"I'm actually all good with this one." Now, when you raised your bottle, Nat's gaze dropped down to Bradley's hand, and she gasped so loudly, she sloshed some of her drink onto her hand.

"You're not. Are you?" she asked, eyes wide. "Are you? Bradley!"

When you looked up at your husband, he leaned down and kissed you as he chuckled. He was looking at you with the most loving expression, his gaze never wavering as he said, "Go on ahead and say it, Nat."

"Are you pregnant?" she practically screeched, and when you looked at her and nodded, she burst into tears.

"You were right," you told Bradley as his best friend slammed into him, the liquid from her glass sloshing all over Mickey. "She's definitely crying."

"Crying about what?" Bob asked in alarm. "What's wrong?"

"Rooster's gonna be a dad!" Nat wailed, squeezing him around the waist before switching and hugging you tight. "He knocked up his wife, and that's why she's drinking Gatorade!"

Next thing you knew, Bradley was unbuttoning his shirt with a bright smile, revealing the tee underneath that read Dad in the Streets, Daddy in the Sheets.

"Roo!" you gasped when you read it, but it was too late for you to be annoyed by it. Your friends were closing in on the two of you, and you reached out for Bradley's hand. 

"Congratulations!"

"I was wondering why you were drinking a Gatorade!"

"Are you serious right now?!"

"This is so exciting!"

Bradley only released your hand to give Maverick a hug, and you were surprised to find that he was definitely crying. But now you were crying, too. Because everyone you cared about knew now. Bradley's parents and your parents and the community of friends that you loved so much. They all knew.

"A round of Gatorades on me!" Cam called out before picking you up off the floor in a bear hug. "Oh shit, I don't want to hurt the baby," he said before practically dropping you back on the floor. 

But then Jake caught you in his arms while someone handed Bradley a bottle of champagne. "I'm happy for you, Angel. I know how much you both wanted this. That man worships the ground you walk on. It's actually pretty distressing to think about, but he'll be the same way with the kiddo."

You couldn't even keep track of how many people had given you a hug. Penny brought you some sparkling grape juice, and Reuben offered to run to get food if you were hungry. You kept swiping at the tears in your eyes, but Bradley had no shame at all. 

"I love you, Baby Girl!" he called from a few feet away where he was handing out the ultrasound pictures like they were celebratory cigars and sipping on the champagne bottle. "Look how adorable this nugget is," he was telling Nat and Maverick. "I'm gonna have the cutest baby ever. I mean look how fucking perfect my wife is."

You found his obnoxious shirt more endearing now than annoying, and when you tucked yourself against his side, his lips tasted like champagne. And he smelled delicious. And he looked incredible. "Oh no," you moaned softly as he put the remaining few photos in his jeans pocket. "Roo."

He looked down at you and smiled before chugging what was left in the bottle. You watched the scars pull taut on his neck as he swallowed, and your hand came to rest on his abs. After he swiped his mouth with the back of his hand, he asked, "You about ready for me to take you home and fuck you hard into the bed?" 

You didn't even care who heard him as you dug the Bronco key out of his pocket. "I'll drive, Daddy. You save your energy."

After that, you and he made a pretty hasty exit which was a surprise to exactly nobody. As much as you were dreading sending him on a deployment while you were pregnant, you know that you'd have so many people around you who would be happy to help you if needed. 

Once you started to buckle Bradley into the passenger seat, he placed a few sloppy kisses on your cheek. When he pulled you onto his lap, you whispered, "I'm going to have the sweetest baby in the world. I mean look how fucking perfect my husband is."

He cupped your cheek with a dreamy look in his eyes. "Let's go home."

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

Bradley was bursting at the seams with excitement! Dad mode has been activated. Baby Girl seems to be over the morning sickness hump. And pretty soon we'll send Bradley away. I'll post a few more one-shots, and then we dive into a new series! Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

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[reiderwriter]

This request is inspired by the season 1 finale when Elle and Morgan are on that tropical vacation:) could you do something where the team is somewhere like that for a case and after it’s closed they decide to stay another night and go to a club and the reader gets Spencer to dance with her and at first he’s really awkward but then they really get into it (can end however you want:))

A/N: I took this idea and RAN. When I tell you I was sitting furiously the entire way through this, I mean it 😭 thank you so much for requesting! 🥰

Warnings: smut, 18+ minors dni, semi-public sex, Munch!Spencer, oral sex (f receiving), unprotected sex, cum play, alcohol consumption, slight masturbation (m).

The sun was bright and hot in Jamaica. You'd landed a week ago for a case which had now wrapped and were enjoying the cool breeze from the sea and the hospitality of Derek Morgan’s hotel-resort-owning friend. 

Travelling internationally was always a little bit tougher than working on the domestic cases, but the international team was spread thin, and somehow, no case had landed on your desk until this one did. Graciously, the FBI had let you have another 24 hours before your return. 

You'd spent the day stretching out in the sun, an incredibly large beach umbrella set up beside you housing Spencer Reid who had let you know early into the trip that he burned easily. 

“All I'm saying is, I've read enough papers on skin cancer to know the sun is a deadly laser.” 

“A twenty minute game of beach volleyball isn't going to kill you, kid. Come on, these ladies are waiting, and I will leave your ass here.” 

“Stop bothering him, Derek,” you defended Spencer, partly because Derek was casting a shadow across you and cutting off your sun, and partly because you didn't want to acknowledge the pit of jealousy bubbling up in your body when the women threw themselves at Spencer. “Besides, do you really want Spencer on your team for a physical sport?” 

“Y/N has a point, listen to Y/N,” Spencer whined, nodding profusely at your words. 

Derek held his hands up in defeat and walked away, wondering how long it would take the two of you to sort whatever attachment issues you had out. 

When the sun had eventually retreated, and you'd pulled the beach dress you'd bought earlier that day back on, Spencer was still at your side. 

“You know, I think you caught some sun, Spencer,” you giggled, running a hand across his now permanently rosy cheeks and feeling their warmth. “Your cheeks are so red. It's like a grandma just pinched them and held on.” 

“I told you I could look at the sun and burn, and we've been out here all day,” he grumbled, pouting slightly. 

You beamed up at him, though. You hadn't forced Spencer out. In fact, you'd been fully prepared for him to stay inside all day reading. But when he asked you your plans at breakfast, he'd asked to join you, and you hadn't protested in the slightest. 

Walking slowly back to the main part of your resort, you softly hummed the music that travelled from the outdoor beach bar. The music had been constant throughout the day, and you swayed your hips in time to the music as you walked. 

“Y/N…” Spencer started, a few paces behind you. You turned to look at him. His usual wardrobe wasn't exactly the most beach friendly attire, so you'd hunted down a pair of board shorts and a short sleeve button down when you'd bought your dress that morning. You thought they'd hang awkwardly off him, but he filled them out surprisingly well. As he spoke, though, you found yourself unconsciously moving forward to straighten a wrinkle in his shirt.

 “I think Rossi, Hotch, and Prentiss mentioned they were going to get drinks in the bar this evening. Do you want to go, too?” 

Your hand stilled on his chest, and you looked up at him. It was golden hour, and the sun had halo'd him perfectly in its dying rays, showing off its beauty one last time. 

You had to recapture the breath you'd hiccuped out when he'd held your gaze, willing your heartbeat to stay somewhat normal. 

“Oh, great! That sounds like fun, I was just thinking about how I wanted to dance.”

“I know,” he whispered softly as you turned away cheerfully. You almost didn't hear it, and though you desperately wanted to turn around and ask him why, you continued ahead toward the twinkling lights of the bar. 

Three hours later, you were in your cups. You'd worked hard on your case throughout the week, and now it was time for distraction. 

Besides, you knew that sun and alcohol weren't always the best pairing, so you'd stayed hydrated on the beach. Now the sun had gracefully set, you were happy to enjoy a glass or two of your liquid joy. 

Pulling Spencer Reid onto the dance floor in front of all your coworkers was just another symptom of your piña colada buzz, and he followed you with a small hesitation and a small laugh of protest. 

“Y/N, I can't dance.” 

“Shhhhhh, you don't have to dance, you just have to sway. Just sway.” 

“By my definition, swaying is dancing.” 

You rolled your eyes at him but pulled his hands around your waist always. Your coordination faltered, though, and you landed awkwardly high on your body. Without a care in the world for the trail of fire you were igniting down your back, you slid his hands lower, until his hands were sat nearer to your ass than your hips, and you stepped in. 

With his arms in position, you threw your own around his neck, and absent mindedly began playing with the curls at the base of his neck. 

“Now sway, Spencer.” 

His eyes locked with yours, and he obliged. Your chest had pressed up against his after all, your bodies practically flush, and now that you were moving in time to the music, it was inevitable that he should, too. 

Time travelled quickly as you stood in the glow of each other, laughing and joking about each clumsy step, each bump from other dancers. Your coworkers had each come up to wave a quick goodbye through the night, but you were still there. Still swaying. 

You were sure that his hands had travelled the length of your body, the heat that burned you from inside out having filled your body a millenia ago. 

He'd spun you out a couple times, and you'd giggled in delight at the motion, letting your dress raise and spin in the breeze, and returning to a closer position than before, more intimate somehow each time. 

The two of you were so lost in each other that by the time the DJ was shutting his system down, you hadn't even realised the music had stopped. You were now simply swaying along to the sound of the waves crashing in and out. 

“Y/N,” he finally whispered into your ear as the sun again began to show its head. “Y/N, the sun is coming up.” 

“I know. I think…. I think I don't want to let you go just yet, though.” You kept moving together in that silence for a few more minutes, but now your eyes were locked. 

It wasn't a surprise when his lips touched your own. After all, you'd seen them coming. But the jolt of electricity it sent up your spine stole your breath anyway. 

You opened your mouth to take in some air, and he saw that as welcoming. His tongue tangled with yours as his hand lifted to tip your head back, his back already bent slightly to accommodate your height difference. 

His guiding hand wasn't enough, though, he was still not close enough. 

You subtly lifted your leg and his hand instantly dropped to your thighs, hauling you up into his arms as you wrapped your legs around his waist. 

“Our flight is in six hours,” you panted as his lips left yours, suddenly sober again. “We should get some rest.” 

He nodded in agreement, but he was already walking back to your rooms. You each had your own, but he hadn't relinquished his hold on you yet, and you knew he wasn't going to. 

Good, you thought, because logic be damned but you weren't planning on letting him. 

He carried you like that all the way to his door, as you pressed chaste kisses across his face, head, ears, hair, anywhere you could reach on his body. Places you appreciated because they were beautiful and lovely. 

You longed to kiss everywhere else, too. 

“Y/N, we're here.” He said, meeting your eyes once more. There was an unspoken question there. An invitation to leave if you didn't want this. 

Your answer was a hand in his hair and hips pressed back against his. It was all he needed as he blindly pushed into the room. 

You thought he'd throw you down on the bed, but he was much too gentle for that. 

Instead, he sat himself down, taking care to make sure you were comfortable even as his tongue twisted and writhed against your own. 

With this new position, you could try to relieve some of the tension that had been burning in your body since you'd first pulled his hands to you. Your hips moved in slow circles, pressing down into the now obvious bulge in his pants, picking up speed with each caress of his hand. 

He'd pushed under the hem of your dress, his hands on your bare thighs gripping you tightly as you used his body to get off. 

You both moaned and whined through each wet kiss, the gentleness of your earlier encounters chaste in comparison with the animalistic need pulsing through yourself. 

You nearly growled when he lifted your hips again, but you let him continue his motions as he lay back, guiding your hips higher and higher until you straddled his face. 

“Shit, Spencer-” You lost the words as his fingers pulled the two ties holding your bikini bottoms in place, effectively discarding them and leaving you bare. You gasped as you held yourself above him, but he was strong and insistent.

Wrapping one hand around each of your splayed thighs, he pulled your core to his mouth and began to pleasure you. Your hands jolted to the headboard so you could steady yourself. 

Your dress still remained, spread across the bed and obscuring his face from view as he flicked his tongue against your clit, like a flower decorating the Emerald green sheets of the bed. 

“Spencer, fuck,” his hold on your thighs loosened now that he knee you weren't going anywhere, one hand sliding down to his own neglected cock. 

The looser grip meant you could move, just slightly, and so you began to ride his face. 

You moved your hips back and forth as he flattened out his tongue, and you heard the music that had carried you into the night start up again. 

Your moans were melodic, a tribute to your lust for him, an offering made to show him how truly desired he was. 

You came with a shudder, the full weight of your body falling down onto his tongue, but he didn't stop. 

His tongue started moving again now your hips had twitched to a stop, prolonging your orgasm by an eternity. 

You finally rose up on your knees when you felt a second orgasm begin to build, craving something different this time. 

He didn't come out from under your dress so much as rip the thing off of both of you. 

You'd already rid yourself of your bikini top earlier in the dar, so you sat bare above him as he pulled you again into his lap, his cock now free from his pants. 

Your lips came together again as you hovered over him, his length running through your folds, readying himself for the sweet moment he'd finally be inside you. 

“You taste sweet,” he said before you sucked on his tongue, desperate to taste your joint lust. 

The music played once again as he pulled your hips lower down and sheathed himself inside you, but louder, a crescendo of perfectly resonant notes sounding one after the other. 

You were too lost in it to be any help to him, and he kissed away your fatigue as he lowered you to the bed, gently placing your head on the pillow and smoothing the hair out of your face before pulling out until only the tip of his cock was inside you and again pushing in. 

His rhythm was steady, pulsing through your entire body. You felt the pleasure of his body inside you everywhere as his lips returned to your ear. 

You thought he would talk and say something again, but his teeth found you instead, his to gue licking the spot where your neck met your lobe before he gently nipped the side of your ear. 

He couldn't talk, but he didn't hold back any moans. 

Your whimpers, his groans, the steady rhythm of your hips meeting and pulling apart, the sound of your arousal slick between your legs, all joined together in a symphony of love as your hearts sang to one another. 

“Y/N,” he finally moaned, and hearing your name on his lips like a prayer was enough to send you over the edge. 

“Spencer! I'm cumming again, Spencer. Please don't stop-” You begged even as your body tensed up beneath him. 

He continued that rhythm, not letting your music end until it was absolutely necessary. 

But as the sun shone through the curtains again, you knew you were reaching the end of this song. 

“Where should-” he couldn't form the full question, elbows holding his weight off of you as he held back the full force of his orgasm. 

“P-Pull out,’ you whispered, and he did. 

It took him only a few strokes to find completion on your stomach. He sat back on his knees, mindful not to press his weight back down upon you. You wrapped your legs around his waist and grabbed at him anyway, needing to feel his lips on yours one more time. 

You wondered if your entire life would now be the moments in between his kisses. 

“Y/N, our flight is in 5 hours.” 

“We can sleep on the jet. We can't do this on the jet,” you said pulling his head back down for a kiss as you heard the music start up once again. 

[littlexscarletxwitch]

── ༊*·˚⋆ 𝗺𝘆 𝗴𝗼𝗼𝗱 𝗴𝗶𝗿𝗹

paring: florence pugh x fem!reader

tag(s): nsfw, fluffy smut, wlw establish relationship, gf flo is the best (lol), r's anxious

warning(s): MDNI, +18 ONLY read at your own risk, explicit smut, wlw sex, oral sex, slight praise kink i guess, grammatical errors, unedited

word count: 1.6k

requested?: yes: "👉🏼👈🏼another one. uhhh twitchy shy gf who is either like biting her lips, picking her skin, vaping, or biting her nails and then Flo comes home and is like all cute and cozy and cuddly and sweet. then when all is well, she slowly and lovingly eats out her gf and praises her for no longer hurting herself and the gf just giggles bc like…her pussy being eaten literally." - 💦🍯 anon

note: I'm so sorry it took me soooo long, nonnie. But it's finally here, thank you so much for you request, I love your requests lol. Hope you all enjoy. Lots of love, M <3

requests are open! + check my rules here + masterlist <3

Your leg was bouncing up and down, your teeth were biting your bottom lip, as your finger picked the skin around your nails. 

She noticed it, of course. Florence always knew when you were starting to feel anxious. So she grabbed your hand in between hers, rested her leg over yours, and brought her lips to yours. 

The movie playing on the tv was forgotten when she brought you toward her. “I don’t like it when you do that,” she confessed in between kisses, but there was no trace of anger in her tone, just worry. 

“When do I do what exactly?” you said breathlessly over her lips, clueless as to what she was referring to. 

“The picking and biting,” she said, as she lightly squeezed your hand. “I can understand the bouncing. But not the other two, I don't like you hurting yourself.”

“Flo, It’s nothing really,” you tried to shrug it off. 

“But it is, it is to me. It's nothing at first, but then you start to do it more often and then your fingertips and lips will be all bloody and I won’t like that.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to,” you shyly said. 

“It’s okay, don’t apologise,” she left a soft kiss on your forehead. “I just… Promise me you will try to stop that habit, okay?”

“Okay,” you reassuringly smiled at her, promising to yourself to keep to your word.

[...]

You were currently on the couch, some relaxing and calming music playing as you worked on the proposal you had to hand in tomorrow morning. Your anxiety was creeping over and the stupid music did nothing to calm you down. But it wasn’t the music’s fault, it was completely yours. You were supposed to have it already done, but something came up then another, and now you were doing your best to finish it up before its deadline.

“Honey, I’m home,” you heard Florence singsang as she entered your shared home. 

“In here,” you answered her, your eyes not leaving the screen in front of you. 

“Hey, babes,” she said, as she let herself fall on the couch next to you, snuggling into your body, leaving a soft kiss to your cheek. 

“Hey,” you smiled at her, you could already feel some of your anxiety washing away just by her closeness. “How was your day?”

“Oh, you know, the usual, nothing interesting,” she shrugged it off. “Hey, what are you up to?” she asked once she noticed how your fingertips were speed typing into your laptop. 

“It’s nothing, I just need to finish up this paper that's due tomorrow.”

“Oh, am I distracting you or something?”

“No, no. You’re fine,” you left a kiss on her forehead. “Just give me a second here, and then I’ll be all yours.”

“Okay,” Florence smiled to herself, watching as you typed some fancy and big words into a word document. 

It was then that she noticed your twitchy state: the bouncing leg was back again and she noticed your fingers were slightly trembling. Fortunately you weren’t biting your bottom lip and your fingertips’ skin wasn’t picked. 

“Y/n, are you okay?” still she was concerned, you were clearly anxious about this stupid paper. 

“Yeah, why?” you took a quick look at her and noticed she was staring at your hands. “Oh, it’s nothing,” you said, slightly closing your hand into a fist to stop them from shaking. “I just want to get it done,” you huffed. 

“You know, if it’s stressing you out so much, maybe you should get a break,” she said, resting her head on your shoulder. 

“And I will as soon as I’m done,” you breathed out, slightly bumping your head against hers. “I promise, we can do whatever you want.”

“Whatever I want?” half of your brain was concentrated on the words you were typing in but still her understone didn’t go unnoticed by you. 

You chuckled, “Yes, whatever you want.”

“Okay,” she said, leaving a quick kiss on your cheek. “Let me know when you’re done.”

“Will do,” you smiled at her as you watched her leave the room, a smirk on her face, which sent a shiver up your spine. 

You typed some more words into the document, deleted others, changed some into more fancy ones, rearranged the order of the paragraphs a few times and by the time the clock hit 9pm you were finally done with the goddamn thing. Lastly, you sent a copy of the document to your boss and once that was done you felt a weight had been lifted off from your shoulders.

You placed your now closed laptop on the coffee table, and went on your way to find Florence. 

“Flo?” you called her out from your bedroom door. “What are you doing in bed? Don’t you want to have something to eat? Aren’t you hungry?” you said, stepping in, plopping yourself down on the mattress. 

“You know I’ve been thinking…” she completely ignored your question as she crawled toward you. Her undertone and smirk didn’t go unnoticed by you. “You’ve been doing so good not picking your skin or biting your lip,” you could feel her hot breath on your lips. “I think you deserve a reward,” she quickly kissed the corner of your lips sending shivers up your spine. 

“What kind of reward?” she didn’t even kiss you and you were already breathless, just her closeness was enough for your brain to malfunction. 

“Well…,” she cupped your cheeks. “I was thinking…” she brought her lips to yours, kissing them slowly, making your stomach tightened into a knot. “I am hungry… you said it yourself…” her lips moved down to your jaw. 

“What are you hungry for?” it almost came out as a whimper. 

“You,” she said, muttered by your skin as she got on top of you. 

 A curse slipped past your lips as she rocked her hips against yours. Your hands flew to her waist, squeezing and pressing her even closer to you, making her moan as she kissed and sucked on your collarbone. 

You didn’t realise how or when, due to your brain being all foggy because of her entire being, but a second later, or so you thought, the two of you were stripped out of your clothes. She was still on top of you, kissing every inch of your body as if she was worshipping you. 

Everytime she would kiss a new area, she would move further down your body, getting dangerously close to your core. She was teasing you obviously, she knew you were already too goddamn wet for her fingers or strap to easily get past inside you. But she wanted for her lips and tongue to have their way with you. 

The closer she got to your burning throbbing cunt, the more your legs would twitch, the more you would hiss, and the more you would squirm under her. The whole thing only encouraged her even more to do with you as she pleased. 

“Stop with the teasing… please,” you blurted out breathlessly. 

And without any warning whatsoever, she buried her mouth, chin and nose into you. A low ‘fuck’ slipped out of your lips followed by her name and a gasp at the sudden contact. Your hand flew to the back of her head, tugging her hair in a makeshift ponytail, getting all of it out of the way so you could see her properly as she ate you out. 

Her eyes were closed, deep in concentration, as you moaned and whimpered. The picture only added more to your arousal and the knot forming in your stomach would only get tighter as her tongue slipped in and out of you and her nose brushed against your clit. 

“Holy fuck,” she took it as a sign for her to pushed her finger inside of you. 

Your cunt sucked in her finger so easily that she knew you could take a second one, maybe even a third one. And so she did, she took out the single finger and pushed two inside you, and once she knew you were ready, two fingers became three. 

“Oh, God!” you said as you heard the room being filled by the sound of her sloppy finger thrusting in and out of you as her lips mercilessly sucked on your clit. 

“Not God, honey,” she playfully muttered against your core. 

“Shut the fuck—,” you were cut off by a loud moan. “Flo, I’m close… I’m so close,” it came out as a cry as the knot in your stomach felt so tight that any second now would snap. 

“Come, baby,” her words were muffled. “Be a good girl and come.”

And you wanted to be that good girl she deserved, the good girl she loved, the good girl she knew you were, so you did. With a loud cry, followed by a cursed and mumbling her name over and over again, you came in her mouth as your eyes rolled to the back of your head, as your hand brought her head closer to you if it was possible, as you almost strangled her with your leg wrapping around her head. 

“There you go,” she said as her tongue helped you ride out your high and as she made sure to suck in every single drop of your sweet juices. 

Your whole body went limp as she sucked the very last drop of your cum. And when she was done, her lips met yours, making you have a taste of yourself. 

“So good to me…” she whispered over your lips. “My good girl did so good,” she said, as she placed a sweet kiss on your forehead and watched a shade of red creeping on your cheeks as you giggled. 

She felt her heart melting, she had just eaten you out and now you were blushing and giggling just by a few words. Oh, how lucky she was. You were in fact her good girl, and the thought brought a smile to her face.

Likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated! <3

-M

[immajustvibehere]

Amidst a Crashing World (3/5)

Pairing: Arthur Morgan x fem!Reader

Summary: Arthur returns to your cabin after you presumed him dead. The time between your last meetings have lead Arthur to a realisation.

tags for this series: fluff, little bit of angst, no-tb-Arthur, literally your love redemption, maybe smut (but probably not), slow burn (but I mean how slow can a story really burn in five chapters?)

masterlist

Chapter 1, Chapter 2

6000 words

Sooner than expected, you heard of Arthur. Unfortunately, not because he sent you a note or stopped by again. As you rode into Annesburg three days after wishing him luck for the big score he had planned, the paper boys yelled through the town: "Saint Denis robbers still on the run! What happened to the gang of Dutch van der Linde? Find out in today's edition!"

Normally, you weren't too big on reading the newspaper, but this time…you hadn't never snatched it so quickly out of the boy's hand, leaving him to boast with the change you gave him. Hosea, dead. Lenny, dead. No account of any other names. You weren't sure who "a further gang member was arrested and awaits trial" meant. It only took a couple of days until everybody seemed to talk about it. Your main source of income being doing women's hair, you got a fair bit of gossip about the news.

Everything you heard from the ladies, took with a grain of salt. Either way, nobody ever mentioned Arthur by name. Your anxiety reached its peak when a rather well-off woman, not typically your demographic, had visited family in Saint Denis and brought an unsettling theory with her. Apparently, the most important members of the gang, including the leader, could have fled on a boat and drowned in the storm that was raging over the ocean the same night.

The "they have fled the country"-rumours were the most popular. Drowned in the ocean or not, the version varied based on who told you their theory. With every day you didn't hear the contrary and had no word from Arthur, you believed that you'd never see him again.

That was until one morning. You were working in your garden, busy with fixing the fence that had long stood neglected, when you saw a rider approach. Whether it was the hat or the horse you recognized first, you weren’t sure. But unmistakenly, the man on the horse that lazily trotted towards your cabin was Arthur.

You put your tools down and approached him, forcing yourself to walk calmly. The closer you got, the more unfamiliar he appeared. His beard had grown out, looking unkempt and way too long for what you were used to see him wear. Long strands of hair spilled out from under his hat. Arthur’s skin was darker than usual, even the unforgiving desert in the west hadn't left his skin as sunburned as it now appeared. Most of the red had settled into a golden-brown tan, particularly strong around the area where he cuffed his sleeves. For not seeing him for almost a month, this was quite a change.

A faint smile appeared on his lips when you reached him and walked next to his horse, leading it to your cabin.

"I thought I'd never see you again", you blurted out straight up.

Maybe a “Hello” or “Thanks for stopping by” would have been more appropriate, but the thought that had driven you insane the last three to four weeks just slipped out.

"I know. I'm sorry", Arthur jumped off his horse when you had reached your newly fixed gate. He looked at you, trying to take it all in. He had missed you; he had thought of you so much the last days and weeks, having you in front of him was a little overwhelming. But you looked like he remembered you. You weren’t wearing your fine clothes that you had worn when you caught him in your pond, but the worn jeans and shirt that had seen many fences painted and potted many plants looked good on you. It looked homely.

Arthur cleared his throat before he asked, "D'ya still cut hair?"

It was awkward...the ways he pronounced his question, the uncomfortable manner in which he scratched his way too long beard, seemingly unhappy with its new length.

Before you could answer, he added sarcastically: "Tried finding a barber on the Caribbean island but didn't came across someone I wanted to trust with scissors."

"Caribbean island?", you repeated questioningly, leading him into the cabin.

The tension between you felt peculiar. If tension were a tangible thing, you could have thrown a lasso and seemingly strangled it out of the air. But it wasn’t, so you and Arthur only struggled with finding your rhythm again.

"I came as soon as I could after returning...", Arthur explained apologizing, as if he had to rectify not visiting you sooner.

"Arthur. I thought you were dead", in front of your table, you stopped and looked directly at the man.

"'m afraid I have to disappoint", he chuckled, "Instead I'm here, asking ya for a cheap haircut because we lost...ten thousands in the sea."

"Ugh", you groaned, readying a chair for Arthur to sit on right at the table, "You sound so desperate, I might just give ya that haircut for free."

Arthur placed his jacket on a hinge next to the door and his hat on a free spot on the table. Again, it felt like he knew exactly where to place them, just as if he was coming home after a workday.

"Where d'ya want me, miss?", Arthur asked politely as if he had just entered a barber shop and there wasn't only one chair that looked prepared enough to serve as seat for his cut. You pointed at the chair a little absentmindedly, gathering your equipment and laying it out in the table in front of you.

"How short were you thinking?", you asked, walking around the seated man, ruffling his hair a little.

"Whatever you prefer", Arthur answered.

"What's that supposed to mean?", you asked, letting your finger scrape through his hair. His hair was wet at the roots, so you added surprisedly, "Did you just take a bath?"

"Might 've...", Arthur shrugged as if it was no big deal.

"You didn’t have to”, you reassured him, secretly amused by how endearing you found it.

"You wouldn't say that if you’d seen me before the bath. After three days in the Caribbean, killing half of the Pinkerton's agency and moving camp, you would have shot me on sight", Arthur joked, a bitter smile playing on his lips. Your answer was a soft chuckle.

After combing his hair, you repeated you question: "You're sure you don't want me to tell you how you want your hair done?"

"I trust ya", Arthur said.

"Mh, big mistake", you grinned. You caught Arthur's eye for a moment, and you could have sworn it was admiration in his expression. And trust, which honestly, was seldom for this man.

"I'll just cut it a little shorter than you had it when you first came to collect me", you said, waiting for his confirmation.

"...collect you and failed miserably at that", Arthur added.

"I thank the lord every day for that", you said jokingly. It was no laughing matter, though. You knew that as well as Arthur. The list of people the gang had lost in the last two months was long and you not rejoining was probably the only thing that had kept your name off that list.

You started doing Arthur's hair and one minute in, you decided to carefully pose the question of "What the hell happened the last couple weeks?". Arthur couldn't stop talking. He explained the plan of the bank robbery, explained when it went south. When Hosea was mentioned, he digressed a little. You too ended up sharing some anecdotes of the old man. You had loved him and felt a pang of guilt that you hadn't sent word to him that you were indeed fine. Hosea had been so kind to you when you expressed your wish to be on your own for a while, he had wished you the best and you had never even thought about sending a letter.

Then Arthur mentioned escape from Saint Denis. Your mouth went dry when Arthur recounted the storm, how he went overboard, nearly drowning and not knowing how lucky he was that he washed ashore on a beach. It was uncanny how some of the rumours you had heard mirrored the actual story.

Then came Guarma and everything that happened there. The return, the Pinkertons apparently following someone to Lagras and finally the move to Beaver's Hollow. They had been up there for a couple a couple of days now, and so much had already happened.

You listened, occasionally asked a question, but most of the time you were concentrating on not messing up the haircut. You had never heard Arthur talk that much before. Sober, that is. He can be quite a chatty drunk, but it seemed like he just wanted to get everything off his chest.

"How does that look?", you asked when you were done with his hair, holding a little mirror for Arthur to see.

His only response was a nob and a slight smile.

"Okay then", you spoke gently, "your beard's next."

The whole retelling of the last couple of weeks was what Arthur needed, but it killed his mood the same time. At least, that's what you though he was silent for. You cleared a spot on the table for you to sit on. It was way more comfortable sitting in front of Arthur while trimming his beard, but if you sat on a chair, you wouldn't have the height you needed.

You took a seat on the table in front of Arthur and noticed how his eyes immediately fixed on the ground.

"D'ya mind spreading your legs a little?", you asked. Despite the request confusing him a little, Arthur did as he was told and you put your on foot on his chair, so you wouldn't topple forward. Arthur tried his best to stifle the cough that worked its way up as he choked on his own saliva at this move.

"We're not going for a clean shave, are we?", you asked casually, trying to catch Arthur's eyes. He shrugged: "Whatever's easier for you."

You shook your head and began to trim his beard back to what you remembered he had the last time he visited you. Soon after you started, you noticed Arthur's cheeks getting warm and red. You were well aware that your cleavage was on his eye-level, probably the reason why he decided he was better off inspecting the floor. Meanwhile, you enjoyed gently tilting his head the way you needed it, finding no resistance from the man himself.

You talked only little, answering insignificant questions Arthur posed when the blade wasn't near his face, and he could actually move his mouth. You were almost done, only lining up his beard to give it an overall cleaner look, when Arthur said something out of the blue.

"Y'know, I been thinkin' about you. A lot," Arthur croaked, his throat dry all of a sudden.

"Mhm", you answered, not sure which direction that was supposed to go. You stopped shaving off the stubble on his neck when his Adam’s apple bobbed.

"Uh, I mean...", Arthur clears his throat, forcing you to stop the shave and look at him. Finally, his eyes found yours, "We're...uhm...friends, I hope." He forced a little chuckle that didn't sound genuine, especially under your curious gaze. You gave a quiet hum as sign of agreement.

"'s just that I...look, I understand if ya've found someone else. Hell, I took my sweet time and it wasn't fair how I treated you when you...", Arthur cleared his throat again, the words coming difficult to him, "when ya told me about yer feelings."

This was the point when your heartrate picked up and you felt your hands become sweatier. You had to put the blade down for a moment to wipe your hand on your shirt. Your mind was still caught on the line 'I understand if ya've found someone else'...like that had even been an option for you. For months you had tried to get over this man, then he came back waltzing into your life and you put your own ugly bounty poster on the wall as a reminder. And the you fixed the bedframe that he had fixed rather unsatisfyingly. You hadn't told him it broke the very same night he had “repaired” it. Nothing had changes the last year, you were pining as much for this man as ever...and yet, you didn't quite know how to react.

"I really like ya", he finally said, " I know well I don’t deserve it, but if ya wanted to give me another chance…"

"Morgan", you exhaled, "I got my boot between your balls and a blade at your throat...if you want to pull my leg I suggest you-"

"I mean it", and Arthur's gaze was so intense, this time it was you who struggled to watch him in the eye. You knew he wasn't lying. Hell, you hadn't really expected that he was just pulling your leg, you just said it to say something…to lighten up the mood that appeared so heavy again.

"Okay", you mumbled, barely able to disguise the tremor in your voice. Then you took the blade again, carefully turning Arthur's head upwards so you could better reach the hair you still needed to shave. There was this long and uncomfortable silence that neither of you wanted to break. You heard the birds outside, the blade scratching the skin and a heartbeat...if it was yours or Arthur's, you weren't quite sure.

Arthur thought that Guarma had been hell, but he found that your silence and okay was even more tortuous.

Finally, you were done. With a hairdressing brush you got rid of all the loose hair that decorated Arthur’s face. He gave you a slightly annoyed look as you tickled him behind his ears. Then you took the little towel that had prevented hair from falling into his shirt out in the garden to shake it out.  

The moment you stepped into the cabin again, Arthur's eyes caught yours and they were demanding an answer.

"I've never stopped loving you", the words burned as they left your mouth. The towel was thrown over an empty chair. Saying the words out loud…it changed something. Because as long as you had only thought them, there was this slim chance that they weren’t true. But there was no backing-out now, no denying.  

You continued: "But I can't...I won't rejoin the gang. I want to live here."

You said that because you knew that Arthur wouldn’t leave the gang for you, but you wouldn’t rejoin in either.

"Y/n...this thing is pretty much over", Arthur sighed. He was referring to the gang. He had alluded to it when he had recounted the happenings of the past weeks, especially breaking John out of jail and earning Dutch's disapproval. This was the first time he directly admitted it, "I want the Marstons safe...and the women...then it's done."

"Oh, so 'one more big score and then you can leave everything behind", you mimicked Dutch's voice. A tinge of animosity accompanied your words and this certainly wasn’t lost on Arthur. You couldn’t help but feel a bit unfairly placed in this situation.

"C'mere for a second", Arthur beckoned you, his eyes following every one of your movements until you stood in front of him, your hips brushing against the table. Arthur remained seated in his chair. Glancing at the man quickly, you congratulated yourself on having done a good job; his haircut looked sharp.

Then, suddenly, Arthur took your hand. It was such an unusual gesture, it alarmed you immediately. His hands were warm and rough, but not in an unpleasant way. Arthur held your hand lightly, as if he was afraid of hurting you.

"I promise this is the last time. In a week, we're going to hit a train with army pay. Wednesday evening. After that, I'm done", Arthur spoke earnestly.

"I can't-" believe you, you wanted to say, because you knew it had been the same story with Mary. You knew that once an outlaw means always and outlaw. Not even Arthur's word was enough to ensure that those bonds wouldn't bind him to his old life and to the gang.

"Don’t say nothing yet", Arthur interrupted calmly. He stood up and let your hand slide off his, as he walked to his satchel. He pulled out his journal and carefully put it next to you. With no hesitation, he opened and skimmed through it. You couldn't see most of the pages because he flipped through them so quickly.

"It ain't even half-way done", Arthur assessed, showing you the empty pages, "I'll leave that here 'n collect it in a week."

"What?", you questioned, frowning, "What if I decide to read it as a bedtime story?"

"'s nothing in there that yer not allowed to know", Arthur mumbled, "Contrary. Sometimes I think I'm much better expressing my feelings on paper. I've never been a good talker."

Silently, Arthur opened a page in his journal that had a little dog-ear. The left side was empty and only had smudges of pencil on it, on the right side there was this impressively detailed bounty poster. It had the layout of the bounty posters they have hanging all over town, obviously it wasn't printed, but hand drawn. You recognized your name, your 15-dollars-worth and then yourself, staring back at you. You hadn't imagined Arthur to be one to draw people, let alone portrait style. In the brush of his pencil you recognized that he might be more professed in sketching trees and animals, but it was a perfectly decent drawing of you. Hell, it was even flattering, compared to the atrocity they had on your real poster.

Arthur put the journal away, leaving it on top of a pile of books on your nightstand.

"I jus' need t'know if this is a place I'm allowed to return to", Arthur finally asked.

"Always", you replied without hesitation, your gaze still fixed on his journal. Is he trying in tempting you to read it? Because if that's the case, it was definitely working.

"So I won't be greeted with a gun in my face?", Arthur chuckled.

You sighed, taking a brush that stood abandoned in the corner of the room and started to swipe Arthur's hair out of the house. "If you're going to bring that up one more time, I swear I'll give you a reason to fear me", you quipped.

"Oh, I already fear you a great deal", Arthur said sarcastically.

You shot him an intense gaze.

"You staying for dinner?", you asked in between the sound of bristles scratching on wood.

Arthur shrugged, mumbling: "They won't miss me for another day..."

"Good. Then go hunt something", you asserted, gently shoving him outside by brushing against his boots until he took the hint.

"Yes ma'am...", Arthur mumbled, a hint of amusement in his voice. When you had successfully shoved him outside, you closed the door behind him, not without a bit of force. It left him slightly perplexed and wondering.

You had tried your best to hold your feelings together, but it had become a little much. Since Arthur's confession, your hands hadn't stopped shaking and you hastily put the brush aside, sitting down with your back against the door. There were so many feelings inside you that all needed to be addressed, but you struggled to even detangle them.

First and foremost: You had spent months pining for Arthur, only to be rejected in a cruel way and then again wasting months in trying to get over him. Just when you thought you were getting somewhere, he comes back into your life with a request that suggests anything but care for you. So, he leaves, and appears again. Then leaves again, presumed dead or out of country and now he's here again, asking for another chance as if you even had the power to reject him. You didn't know if Arthur would be able to make you happy. In a way, you feared it might be the opposite because there was still one score...one more score. He might die, or he might stay for another score, and another, and so on.

You stifled a sob. Scenarios played out in your mind, and they all converged into two possible outcomes, ending with Arthur dead or disappeared, disappointing you yet and yet again because one can't just stop being an outlaw. The 5000 on his head won't just disappear, presumed or actually dead - it didn't matter much.

"Son of a bitch", you hissed, mad at the situation.

You just wanted to be happy and find some closure for this surge of emotions that had held you hostage for months, if not years.  

"Y/n?", Arthur's voice was so soft when he called out your name, you almost jumped in shock because you thought he had long gone hunting. But his voice came from right in front of the door.

"You okay?", he asked quietly.

"Yeah", you croaked, and it sounded anything but convincing.

"Ya sure?", he wanted you to confirm.

"I just need some time to think...", you whispered, trying hard not to sob.

"I'll stay close", you heard him state, then there were his steps leading away from the house.

For a while, you just sat on the floor. How to proceed?

By the time Arthur returned, the door to your cabin was wide open again, the sun shining inside. You had made your decision.

"I got us a rabbit", Arthur announced, "already skinned it. Figured it ain’t your kinda work."

You responded with an appreciative nod.

"It’s a real beauty”, Arthur grinned, a wisp of humour in his eyes, “or was, anyhow.  I shot it with a small arrow so I reckon the meat-“ before Arthur could put the rabbit down on the table, you had sneaked in for a hug.

"Oh", Arthur stuttered, carefully placing the rabbit down. He lifted his bloody and dirty hands in the air to make sure not to get any dirt on you. Even though you wore clothes that had seen better days and apparently had been demoted to housework, he still didn’t want to get you dirty. Despite his desire to reciprocate the hug.

"Y/n…", he chuckled apologetically, "I need to get washed up."

At that moment, you suddenly looked up to him, your faces mere inches apart. He noticed your gaze drifting between his eyes and lips, then you leaned in, placing a gentle peck on his cheek.

The blush was immediate. Your hands instinctively found their way to his face and tenderly cupped his cheeks. They were just as warm as they had been when you cut his beard.

"I'm really glad you're here", you said, a smile playing on your lips.

"Yeah, I'm-" Arthur began, but you interrupted him with a proper kiss. It was a brief one, testing the waters if Arthur would be fine with that. As you pulled back slightly to assess his reaction, he didn’t hesitate a second, closing the distance between you once more. "I really …don't wanna get ya…dirty", Arthur mumbled between kisses. He could feel the corner of your lips curving into a smile each time you interrupted him. The man struggled to keep his dirty hands in the air.

The kisses quickly became more passionate, and when your hands left his cheeks, one to rest in the hollow between his shoulder and neck, while the other one boldly explored his chest region. It occasionally shifted to grab his arm and squeezing lightly.

Arthur mumbled your name warningly, twice. Then he couldn't help but put his hand in the small of your back, pushing you closer. His bloody hands would surely leave a mark on your clothes, but neither of you cared about that, as his hands became just as active as yours, sometimes cupping your cheek, at other times allowing himself to explore your body a little.

Arthur had just enough control to not place you on the rabbit, when he lifted you up on the table. When both of you became short of breath, Arthur rested his forehead against yours. Your legs had snaked around his, caging him in.

"Haven't done that in a long time", Arthur's voice was raspy as he tried to apologize for the somewhat sloppy make-out session.

"Me neither", you giggled and placed a final kiss on his cheek, "brushed your hair for nothing", you noted, looking up to Arthur's tousled hair. Your fault.

Arthur backed away a little, as much as your legs allowed him: "Christ." He had left signific signs of blood and dirt all over you.

"Mhh…", you hummed amusedly, "Ain't my fault you can't keep your hands to yourself."

"T'way I see it, darling…", Arthur smiled and tried to brush some dirt off your cheek with his thumb, "it's precisely your fault."

Arthur had headed to a keg outside to get cleaned. You decided to get cleaned up only after butchering the rabbit, as this would get your hands dirty again anyways. As the meat sizzled in the in the pan, you decided it was time to wash up as well. While you put the finishing touches on the dish, Arthur sat at the table, leisurely smoking a cigarette and observing you. He had asked if he could help you with anything, but you had declined, insisting that he had already done his part by hunting the rabbit. It was your turn prepare it.

When you plated the meal, it was really nothing too complicated, and yet, Arthur thought, for a free meal, it was perfect. You initiated a conversation; it was more light-hearted than the one you had when you cut his hair. The weightier themes seemed to have lifted from Arthur’s heart, and both of you sought distractions.

You told Arthur more about how you passed your days, gardening, drawing, riding into town. Really most of the money you earned the honest way, cutting hair and doing the odd delivery job for the grocery store.

It was frightening how easy it was to talk to Arthur. Two or three years ago, you would have never imagined, talking so freely to him. Though he'd always been kind, there was an air of unapproachability that had since crumbled completely after the heartfelt conversation you both shared.

The conversation where Arthur poured out his frustrations and regrets concerning Hosea's and Lenny's death, had brought a sense of liberation. It dawned on him how long it had been since he spoke so openly with anyone. Arthur leaned back into his chair. In front of him was his empty plate, opposite of the table, you sat within arm’s reach, chatting about an interesting traveller that came past your cabin a few months back. Arthur listened attentively, his eyes following the movements of your fingers skilfully rolling a cigarette.

Neither of you ran out of stories to tell the other. Arthur talked about people he had met on his travels, a clumsy photographer, a man obsessed with fast horses and racing.

You only realised how long you had been talking when the light in the cabin became sparse, the sun sinking closer to the horizon.

As the visibility waned, limited to the faint glow emitted by the burning tip of the cigarette, you finally rose to your feet to illuminate the cabin with the warm light of lanterns.

"I'll get my bedroll", Arthur announced, standing up with a grunt. He hadn't allowed himself to be this idle in a long time. All he had done today was sitting still for a haircut, killing one rabbit and then indulging in a lavish meal while engaging in easy conversation. His body had finally caught up with the stress of the last few weeks and he didn't know how to feel about how much his body ached. Despite the sun barely disappearing, Arthur would have been ready for bed. Funny, he thought, admitting one’s feeling for a girl could drain his strength that much.

At his announcement, Arthur noticed that you halted and were about to open your mouth as if to suggest something. But you didn't and let him venture outside.

When he took longer than anticipated, you followed him outside, only to find him leaning against the fence, his eyes in the sky. The sky was in this beautiful transition phase, going from hues of purple to a serene shade of blue with the first stars emerging in the east. You observed Arthur’s profile for a while, he didn't protest or showed any signs of being disturbed by your presence.

He was handsome. Something about his stature made you want to lean into him. But you didn't. Instead, you stood there, finding it hard to peel your eyes off him. Your lips quivered under the urge to say what you had thought earlier. After a big breath, you tried to say as casually as you managed: "I know my bed is too small for two people...but I was thinking if I put the mattress on the floor we could-"

"Y/N", Arthur interrupted you gently. He turned to look at you. Caringly, his hand found your shoulder, "It ain't right just yet."

Lying next to each other, cuddling, hugging, maybe stealing another kiss, you craved it badly. You finally had what you had desired for so long, you wanted it all at once. But Arthur knew that it would be unwise. He thought a lot about you, hell he did. And in his mind, he'd be too embarrassed to admit it of course, you had done way more than just kissed. But he knew it'd be wrong. He didn't want to fully commit just yet, and he didn't want to get your hopes up. It was genuine, when he said that the train robbery was the last score he wanted to do with the gang, but one train robbery is enough to get killed and he wouldn't dream about giving you this kind of pain. If he held it vague, if there was no sleeping close to each other, there was also no missing this proximity...if. Always if.

"Fine", you sucked in a little air, "but you take the bed then."

The two of you headed inside, Arthur with his bedroll clamped under his arm.

He shook his head: "It's your house, I can't jus'-"

"Exactly. It's my house, I can sleep in the bed every damn day. Besides, I don't figure you had a proper bed on Guarma, did you?", you teased.

"No, but-"

"Neither do you have one in camp so please- accept it", you looked up at Arthur rather desperately.

"Fine. You don't come complainin' to me if yer back hurts tomorrow", Arthur quipped.

"Oh, I'll definitely complain", you grinned. Arthur gave you his bedroll to spread in the corner where he had slept the last time. Arthur had sat down on the bed and watched you quietly as you readied your sleeping corner. When you glanced back at him, it was evident how weary he was, his eyes barely open, sitting up only out of politeness.

"You don't have to stay awake for me", you smiled, leaning against the table and studying the exhausted man. You noticed how tired he had become during your conversation. He had at least supressed three yawns.

"I jus'...haven't seen ya for so long, I don't want to waste that time with sleeping", Arthur explained. You found it cute he thought that way.

"You're not wasting anything", 'because we'll see each other again in a week, right?' you added in your mind. "I have this book I want to finish anyways, you just rest", you assured him.

You waited until he had settled in, exchanging a couple laughs about how unstable your bedframe was, and then you did the dishes. It didn't take you long, but Arthur was asleep when you had finished. He was turned towards the wall. On the nightstand was his journal. He had put it on top of the book you were currently reading. You took the book and settled on the bedroll.

You woke up to the sound of the bed creaking and blinked at Arthur, the first rays of the sun casting a warm glow on his frame. At some point during the night, he must have woken up and shed his clothes, as he now rested in the room clad only in his unionsuit.

"'m sorry, darlin'. I didn't want to wake ya", he apologized his raspy morning voice.

"It's okay", you yawned, forcing yourself to throw off your blanket to stand up, "I'll make some coffee."

In a couple big steps, Arthur was at your side: "You sleep some more, it's my turn for breakfast." Arthur squatted next to you and tugged you in before you could protest. You forced your tired eyes to stay on his face and not venture further down, pondering what the thin material might reveal.

When Arthur shot you a content smile, seeing you were up for no protest, a wave of panic washed over you.

"You won't just leave, right?", all of a sudden, you were wide awake.

"I won't", Arthur assured you.

"'cause if you do-", you started, a yawn interrupting your threat. Arthur chuckled at how cute and innocent you looked, happy that your yawn cut off before you could destroy that innocence with another gory threat.

"I'm way too scared of what you'd do", and then, to your surprise, he kissed your forehead. You only relaxed when Arthur had stood up again and indeed started to set up coffee. You were soon off to sleep again, only woken when the sizzling of fat in the pan woke you.

Arthur had made eggs. You ate in silence. A couple of times, Arthur tried to start a conversation, but you weren’t in the mood. He’d be gone in a couple of hours and you’d be left wondering if he’d ever return. Arthur knew that this was what was plaguing you, but he didn’t find the right angle to approach you.

You both did the dishes together, you helped Arthur by saddling his horse and then he had mounted it, looking down at you.

“Ya ain’t so happy about the prospect of me returning in a week, ‘s that it?”, Arthur joked.

“No”, you answered dryly, “I ain’t so happy about you leaving for a week.”

Arthur sighed and steered his horse closer to the fence: “Climb up here, I gotta tell ya something.”

Rather unwillingly, you climbed on one of the horizontal planks that kept your fence together. Arthur offered his hand for support and as an excuse to pull you a little closer. He kissed you, gently, on your lips.

“I promised I’ll be back, didn’t I?”, Arthur mumbled. He wasn’t convinced, and neither were you when you whispered a dire “Yeah..”

You didn’t like the good-bye kiss. In fact, you wished he hadn’t done that. It hurt even more, seeing him disappear between the trees in the distance. For a while, you stood there helplessly, wondering what to do next. Minutes passed before you ventured into your cabin, distracting yourself with some cleaning before your eyes fell on Arthur’s journal. You noticed a piece of paper sticking out. Without thinking, you opened the journal and the loose paper floated to the ground. You didn’t even bother picking it up, your eyes caught the first word written on top of the page. It was your name, written in Arthur’s familiar handwriting.

“Hell no”, you kicked the paper under the bed before you could read any further. You weren’t up for some heartfelt “Good-bye, in case I die I want you to know this”-letter. Frustration and anger bubbled within you as you scrambled into your good jeans and crammed your revolver into its back pocket. With a swift motion, you picked up your hunting rifle, mounted your horse and started to follow Arthur’s track.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x--x-x-x-x-x-x-x

next chapter: here

Shoutout to @little-honeypie who basically wrote the confession scene. I wouldn't have ever finished this if it weren't for them <3

taglist: @photo1030

taglist for this series: @pinkiemme @loveheartarthur @twola @shiokitsune @missredemption @kakashiislut @thewalkingdead1463 @yyiikes @renwai @walk-in-sunshine @rdrlady @ivybeeloved @trinswhimsys @reddedmiller @chiefqueefsosa @sauvignon-velvet @mrsarthurmorgan @readingcoco @pookiesnatcher @gloomdoomraccoon

[passionwillow]

Burning Desire

I'd like to thank the sweet anon for this request because GOSH I have been wanting to write this desperately. Virgin reader who is kinda innocent, babysits Deacons kids and he finally snaps and gives in to his desires.

Warnings: Smut! 18+, age gap, soft dom Deacon (this needs its own warning he's so hot ugh)

You quietly closed the bedroom door as Victoria finally dozed off, letting out a sigh as you walked down the hall and back down the stairs. She was always a hard one to put down to bed, but it only took 20 minutes this time. Usually it was almost an hour.

You padded quietly down the stairs and started as you heard movement and the clicking of glass from the kitchen. You slowly walked through the living room and peeked into the kitchen, relaxing and smiling at the muscled back and silver hair you spotted.

You walked through the curved archway and cleared your throat, Deacon turning and smiling, his brown eyes tired but keen as they eyed your jeans and baggy sweater. "Hey. The kids down and sleeping?" You nodded and took a seat at the table, hands on the counter as you watched him open his beer. "Yeah, Victoria took some extra time." He nodded and sipped his beer as he walked over to you, leaning on the counter beside you. "I figured that's where you were. Didn't want to get her all excited if I stopped up there."

You smiled in understanding and ducked your head, his gaze bringing a heat to your cheeks. You loved working for Deacon , loved the kids, and he was always understanding if you couldn't make it somedays. Even let you stay over if his shift ran late and he didn't come home until the early morning hours.

But Deacon was also ridiculously attractive and you had hard time keeping your cool around him. The way he stared at you, always seemed to stand a little closer than necessary, it turned your legs to jello and your stomach to a fluttering mess. Not to mention you couldn't get a word out without being a stuttering mess.

You weren't experienced with guys, that was just a fact. You hadn't dated much, and hadn't had sex before. Ever. You were quiet, kept to yourself, went through college with your head down and got good grades. You knew what sex was, you weren't completely shielded from life. But not many guys looked at you and you were too shy to make any moves.

You were torn out of your thoughts as Deacon's hand found yours, squeezing briefly and raising his brows. "You alright, hon?" His nickname made your cheeks heat again, and you knew your face had to be tomato red by now. "Yeah, yeah. Sure. Just uhm- tired." You swallowed hard and cursed yourself in your head. Why couldn't you just relax?

Deacon smiled in amusement and nodded, hand lingering before he pulled away, nodding towards the living room. "Why don't you stay over tonight. It's already late, and the weather is getting bad. I wouldn't want you driving home in it." You gazed up at him and nodded, giving him what you hoped was a calm smile. You moved your hands to your lap and tried to hide the slight tremble, but Deacon could read your body language like it was written right there on paper.

He cocked his head as he studied you, brown eyes a shade darker than normal as he shifted his weight, leaning over you a little. "Do I make you nervous?" His question caught you off guard and you looked at him in vague alarm, licking your lips before speaking. "Nervous? I don't.. I mean. A little I guess." He slowly smiled and kept his eyes on yours, gaze flickering briefly to your lips. "Why?"

Your stomach clenched as your eyes stayed on his, too dazed to think about looking anywhere else. You didn't know why you answered him, but with his body so close you could feel his warmth, the smell of his cologne filling your nose, it drew the words out before you could even think. "I-I.. I don't know. You.. You're handsome. And older. And-.. Yeah." You finished lamely, your head finally ducking to look into your lap. Deacon's smile only widened as he gently reached for you, finger hooking under your chin to bring your eyes back to his.

"Me? C'mon, I can't have that big of an effect on you. You've been with guys a lot better looking than me, I'm sure. One's that aren't old, either." You obediently looked up at him as he spoke, his touch searing your skin as you shook your head, hair falling around your face as your ponytail fell loose. "No, I.. I haven't. I've never done anything, not like that." You swallowed hard and bit your bottom lip, his finger still on your chin. "And I don't think you're too old. If-.. If that's what you thought I meant because it isn't. What I meant."

Deacon's smile only grew wider at your rambling and he shook his head, thumb grazing over your bottom lip as he moved closer, your legs parting to give him room to stand between them, his pupils blown as you studied you. "So what if I told you I'd show you what it's like. To have a man.. Treat you right. Pleasure you." The drop in his voice at the last two words sent a shiver down your spine, and heat flooded to your core. Your lips parted as your breathing quickened, and all you could do was nod at his words.

He hummed lightly and reached behind your head, gently tugging the black hair tie that kept your hair pulled back from your face. Your hair fell down over your shoulders and he smiled, cupping your cheek and almost whispering as he spoke. "I need to hear you say it, beautiful. If you don't want this, I'll walk away and never ask again.. But I can't stop thinking about you."

The raw honesty in his words hit you in the gut, and the hot flush that ran over your skin made you feel like you were on fire. You nodded again but sat up straighter on your stool, voice breathless and soft as you spoke. "Please. I want you." Your words darkened his gaze and his hand that cradled the back of your head tightened ever so slightly as he leaned in, his lips grazing your jaw and moving in a slow line to your neck.

His lips were warm and soft, the stubble on his cheek scraping pleasantly against your skin. Your eyes drifted closed as he worked to your pulse point, teeth scraping against the heartbeat in your throat before moving to your ear, his soft, warm breath leaving goosebumps on your skin as he whispered. "I'm going to make you feel so fucking good, baby, I promise." You couldn't stop the soft whimper that left your lips, and he pulled back enough to press his lips to yours, one hand still holding your head as the other went to your hips, gently pulling you up from your seat and pressing you into the counter.

Your hands grabbed for the front of his shirt, and you held the fabric in a white knuckled grip. His lips moved slow and methodical against yours, the scruff of his beard tickling your skin as you followed his lead, your inexperience starting to make you tense. You were going to make an absolute fool of yourself, it didn't matter how badly you wanted it, wanted him.

Deacon seemed to sense your nervousness and pulled back, his hand moving to cup your cheek, his other sliding to your lower back, anchoring you to his solid form. "Hey. Look at me." His soft but firm tone brought you out of your fluster and your eyes met his, unable to look away as he spoke to you. "Just relax, let me do the work. Okay? I'll take care of you." His words soothed your nerves and you nodded with a slight smile, the nervous twist of your gut turning to something unfamiliar. He matched your smile and gave you one last peck before pulling away and taking your hand, leading you upstairs to his room.

You'd only been in here once or twice since you worked for him, only to put away some laundry he insisted he'd get to but never did. The cream colored bedsheets were crisp and neat, the soft glow of the lamp he turned on giving enough light for him to see you. You glanced around the room and chewed at your lip, Deacon's touch to your cheek bringing your attention back to him. He stood so close to you, you were sure he heard your heart hammering in your chest.

He leaned in and pressed a kiss to the corner of your mouth, nose gliding along your cheek as he whispered. "You sure you want this? You can say no. Walk right out of here, no hard feelings." You shivered and slid your hands to his hips, fingers sliding into his belt buckles as you nodded quickly, the wetness between your legs only increasing at the proximity of him. "I do. I want it, Deac."

You're consent caused a smile to curl over his lips, and he didn't waist time pressing his lips to yours, hands sliding down the backs of your thighs as he suddenly lifted you. He turned and carried you the short distance to the bed, setting you down and resting a knee on the bed beside you, hovering over you so he could deepen the kiss further, his tongue slipping in to taste you.

You opened up to him without a moments hesitation, the excitement and nervousness and lust coursing through you making your skin tingle. Deacon pushed you back further into the bed, making sure to handle you gently as he laid you back, toned body pressing into yours. He moved his lips to your neck and got to work marking you up, teeth nipping and lips suckling a hickey into your neck. You let your head rest back into the pillows, the scent of him all over the sheets as you arched slightly, a moan slipping out as he marked you. His rough, calloused hand slipped under your hoodie and cupped your breast, squeezing and kneading as he pulled back and looked down at you, gaze darker than it was before.

"Anyone ever touch you like this?" You shook your head as you breathed shaky and quick through your mouth, a smile ghosting over his lips as you watched you. "I think we'll have to change that, then." He sat up and grabbed the hem of your hoodie, pulling it up and off to reveal your bra, the only thing keeping you from being exposed. He didn't waist any time tossing your top to the floor and leaning down, peppering kissed over he top of your boobs, hands traveling over your thighs.

You gasped and shivered at the sensation, his warm lips leaving a trail that felt like fire over your skin. Your hand shook as you hesitated before sliding it into his hair, and he hummed in approval as his teeth nipped at the sensitive flesh, your back arching as you moaned. You almost didn't notice his hand that slipped underneath you, undoing your bra and pulling the straps down your shoulders, a blush heating your cheeks as he pulled it off and threw it aside.

He looked up at you and smiled as his hands kneaded your breast, gaze never leaving your face as he teased and pinched your nipple between his fingers, rolling the bud between them. He noted the way you arched and whimpered, leaning down and latching onto the other one as he continued teasing and pinching.

Every pinch, every tug, every kiss and nip went right to your core. Your nails scratched at his scalp as he continued teasing you, and you were trying so hard not to wake the kids as you whined and moaned under him. He pulled back after a moment and looked down at you, a smile on his face as he took in your blissed out face. "You are beautiful, you know that?" He didn't wait for a response as he sat up on his knees, fingers going to your jeans and popping the button, pulling the zipper down.

You could only pant and blush as he tugged your jeans off your hips, your panties going right with them. You knew you were a soaked mess, and you tried to close your legs, hide the arousal from him, but his hands grabbed your knees and spread them back open. He shook his head and crawled back over you, nose almost brushing yours as he whispered. "You have nothing to be ashamed of. Okay?" His eyes held firm to yours, and all you could do was nod, your eyes glancing to his lips. He smiled at your quiet request and leaned in, pressing his lips to yours.

You eagerly wrapped your arms around his neck, daring to let your tongue brush his lips in a silent plea. He opened up for you and let you explore his mouth, only pulling back once you were breathless and had a pleased smile on your face. He chuckled at your expression and sat back up on his knees, looking between your legs at the soaked mess waiting just for him. He licked his lips and reached down, his middle finger dragging through your slickness and collecting it on his finger, your soft gasp and whine going right to his cock. "Has anyone ever touched you here, princess?"

You shook your head and bit your lip, hips lifting in another plea for him, a plea for more. He smiled to himself and looked at you, finger circling your clit and teasing as he watched your body react, easing a finger inside you without warning. You gasped and moaned in surprise at the intrusion, your hands tangled in the bedsheets as he explored you. "Do you pleasure yourself, babygirl? Hm?" His question sent a shiver down your spine, and you nodded and clenched around his finger, cheeks hot as you closed your eyes, hips rocking as he slowly fingered you.

He leaned down over your body, one hand bracing himself by your head as the other moved between your legs, a second finger easing in as he purred. "You think of me when you pleasure yourself, baby?" His warm breath tickled your ear and you whimpered at the stretch of his fingers inside you, your hands moving to his hair and clinging to the silver locks. He pulled back just enough to see your face, to see you nod quickly to answer his question. "Yeah.. It's always you I think of." He grinned at your words and curled his fingers, letting them graze that sweet spot inside of you, as he growled. "Good. Because I think of you too, princess."

His words sent a hot flash to your core, and you cried out in bliss as his thumb found your clit, pressing on the sensitive bud and silencing you with a kiss, muffling your moans as he stretched you open for him.

He pulled back without warning and let his fingers slowly slip out of you, smirking in amusement at the weak whimper you let out at the loss. He brought his fingers to his lips and slowly sucked them clean, eyes glued to yours as you watched in absolute awe. He grinned at your reaction and got up, quickly removing his shirt and jeans, making quick of his briefs before taking his place between your legs.

Your eyes ate up the exposed skin like you were starving, and at the sight of his cock you actually moaned a little. It was a decent length but it seemed so thick, and the thought of it filling you made you inhale shakily. Deacon seemed to pick up on the nervousness, because his hands found your thighs and squeezed gently, thumbs moving in light circles. "We can stop, baby. We don't need to do this right now."

His concern soothed the tightness in your throat, and you quickly shook your head, sitting up and looking up into his eyes. He was still towering over you at this angle. "No, I want to.. I just.. How is that going to fit?" His shoulders relaxed and he laughed a little at your question, taking your hand that was pressed to his bare chest and moving it lower, until you were mere inches from his cock. "It will. Just need patience." You eyed his leaking cock and but your lip, hesitating before gently wrapping your fingers around him.

He inhaled sharply and closed his eyes, his hips twitching slightly as he started stroking him. You studied his face as you worked his cock, letting your thumb brush his leaking head every so often, noting the way his bows furrowed, the way his breath hitched and the low, throaty groans he made. You smiled to yourself and gave his cock a tug, and he growled out your name before grabbing your wrist, leaning down and pressing a searing kiss to your lips.

"Fuck, baby, I need to be inside you." His words went straight to your core, and you nodded quickly, laying back on the bed as he gently pushed your shoulder, shifting closer and gripping his shaft, lining up to your entrance and letting the head of his cock run between your folds. "It's going to hurt, okay? Just tell me if you need to stop." You nodded and bit your lip in anticipation, jaw going slack as he eased his tip in, leaning down over you once he was sure he wouldn't slip out. His mouth traveled over your jaw and neck, one hand holding your thigh that he guided to his hip, his other forearm holding up him up as he nestled into you, his body weight keeping you pinned as he nudged his way into you.

The burning between your thighs was a mix of pleasure and pain, and you whimpered and moaned as he stretched you open, his lips trying to distract you from the pain. Your hands gripped and clawed at his broad back, Deacon's panting almost as ragged as yours. He bottomed out and kept his hips still, kissing your cheek and murmuring softly to you. "That's it, baby, just relax. Breathe and relax, baby, that's a good girl." His praises sent a hot rush through you, and your walls clenched around his cock. He grunted slightly and looked down at you, eyes dark and full of lust as he purred. "Do you know how amazing you feel, babygirl?"

You looked up into his eyes and cracked a smile, letting your nose brush his as you whispered. "Move, baby- please, I need you to move." He smiled and obeyed your request, hips starting to move as he kept an eye on your face, trying to keep an eye out for any pain on your end. His hand slid lower to your cheek and kneaded at the flesh, helping to hold your hips at an angle as he thrust deeper.

The burning quickly subsided to pleasure and your moans filled the room, his own grunts and groans mixing with yours. Your juices soaked his cock, and allowed him to move smoother and deeper, your sweaty bodies pressed together as he stayed close to you, mumbling sweetly in your ear as he made love to you. "So good, baby, you're taking me so well. I'll take care of you, baby, gonna make you feel so good."

It wasn't long before you were reaching your climax, the unfamiliar and overwhelming pleasure bringing you to the brink. He kept the steady pace as you came undone, muffling your moans and cries with his lips as his nails dug into the soft flesh of your ass, breathing shakily through his nose. He pulled back and took in your blissed out expression, the tightness of you around him, your walls fluttering from your orgasm bringing him closer. "Tell me where you want me to cum, baby." His voice was trembling as he drew nearer and nearer, and your clawed at his toned chest as the aftershock of your orgasm made your legs tremble, clenching around him and whining. "In me. Cum in me, Deacon."

Your words made a growl slip out of him, and he gave two hard thrust before coming undone, his sweaty forehead falling into your shoulder as he filled you. The hot spurts you felt inside you made you whimper, and your arms went limp around his neck, the pleasure of the night making you weak.

Deacon had enough energy left to gently slip out of you before rolling over, lying on his back beside you and cursing softly. The sound of you both panting filled the room, and your eyes were too heavy to try and open. You felt the bed shift and a blanket being pulled over you, then a gentle arm pull you closer. You forced your eyes open as you rolled over and smiled as Deacon pulled you into his chest, a gentle kiss landing on your forehead as he mumbled. "You were amazing, baby."

You hummed lightly and hid your face in his chest, a smile stuck to your lips as you spoke quietly. "So were you.. Thank you. For taking care of me." He ran his fingertips over your bare back and nodded, his arms tightening around you. "Always."

[caxde]

pretty sounds | steve harrington x reader

summary you and Steve share an apartment while you're both away in Uni, one night he comes earlier than he should and gets to enjoy himself

warnings fem!reader, 18+ mdni this is just smut guys i'm sorry. english is not my first language so I apologise if there’s some mistakes, not proof read! 

a/n part 2 is up!

Steve always took his showers in the morning. 

You preferred them at night. 

Sharing a small flat with him was a quiet experience. He’d spent most of his time out of it anyway, preferring to study at the University library, or at the coffee shop you had down the corner. Or working half shifts in the small record store, where you also worked. 

Roommate and coworker Steve were two very different people. 

Roommate Steve was prone to laugh at your stupid jokes and watch stupid movies with you on the couch. 

Coworker Steve tried not to talk to you that much, scared that if your boss saw you two chatting it up, he’d get accused of flirting with you. Scared that it was painfully obvious to everyone else but you. 

But it was impossible for him to not stare at you when you’d come home exhausted after a stressful shift and mutter under your breath how much you wanted a hot shower. Or how he’d wait painfully to hear the record you had been playing while you studied in your room stop, knowing that you were about to knock on his door and tell him that if he had to go to the bathroom he better do it now before you took your very deserved long shower. 

He often teased you about how much you’d like to have a bath instead. 

You’d laugh it off, even though he was absolutely right. 

The truth is, he loves to hear you while the water hits your body. 

The bathroom stood between his room and yours. 

His bed against the wall, he usually laid down on it with a second hand book about whatever topic he needed to research for his next paper on American Revolution History or European History and its impact in Modern World. It didn’t matter to him, because in the next ten to twenty minutes he could hear you singing to yourself, your voice drowned by the noise of flowing water hitting your wet body. Though he did love it when you’d talk to yourself. 

Today was different. 

He’d come home later than he usually does, he had spent way more time than he intended stuck in the library trying to write his last paper on the Spanish Republic and he had little to no information on it, and he had exhausted himself enough to go straight to his bed, letting his body hit the mattress without even bothering to turn on the lights. 

That’s when he heard the shower turning on. 

At least he can hear you sing for him for a bit he thinks. 

But he was wrong for once. 

You thought you were alone, you thought you could be as loud as you wanted to, or as much as you needed to. The truth is, you had been crushing on Steve for a while now, and sometimes, only sometimes, you fantasized about him. Maybe more than you’ve been proud of. 

So now, as you were standing there, with the hot steam hugging all the parts of your body, and the water dripping drow your curves, you started thinking about how it would feel if what was keeping you warm wasn’t the hot air, but him, standing behind you, kissing every inch of your bare skin. 

You couldn’t help yourself, not now. So your fingers traveled down your folds, your fingers playing lazily with your dripping wet pussy, circling your clit as you thought of him, soft small moans came out of your mouth. And the hunger only grew, as images of him walking around the flat without his shirt and hair dripping wet invaded your mind. The way his hair sticks onto his forehead every morning, and he always smiles at you before telling you good morning in that husky early morning voice. 

It was driving you crazy, so you started touching yourself with more speed, a clearer pattern, tempting your entrance as one of your fingers graced it. 

Unknown to you, Steve was laying on the other side of the wall, his eyes opened as he heard you moaning, with each one growing louder and clearer, his mind became clouded, as he felt the way his jeans started to feel to tight on him, he needed to free himself, so he did the only thing he felt like he could. He sighed as his cock hitted his stomach once his pants and underwear laid on the floor. And he began stroking himself, softly, slowly, letting himself be guided by your voice as you whined. 

The only thing that made him touch himself faster is when he heard the way your voice moaned his name. 

You were so close to cumming, one of your hands had three of your fingers deep inside you, reaching that spot that made you see stars, as the other held the shower head closely to your clit, the vibrations of it making it feel when you closed your eyes that he was the one eating you out. And even after you had comed and you had screamed his name as loud as you could you left it there for a moment, recomposing yourself. Wishing he was there so you could kiss him, wishing he’d feel what you feel. 

He did, but you didn’t know, though now he did. 

His hands wrapped around his throbbing cock fast, and tightly, he resorted to biting his lower lip so he wouldn’t be a whippering mess, but he couldn’t help himself when he came all over his stomach and he looked down at himself, with the stupidest grin he could fathom.

-

if you enjoyed it please leave a comment or reblog. i promise it makes a huge difference <3

requests are open

[apollyonsdarksecrets]

Alpha!Billy Hargrove X Omega!AFAB!Reader

Summary: It was hard to pretend that everything could just go back to normal once your best friend present as an Alpha and you knew you were doomed to become a Beta. But can one night change it all?

Warnings: SMUT MDNI 18 + Only. Language, talk of eating, bad mother figure, smoking depicted, friends to lovers, slight angst, crying, kissing. Omegaverse themes including: scent, heats, ruts, knotting, breeding, mating

A/N: I have never written anything like this before but I love to read Omegaverse (guilty pleasure) please don’t hate me but constructive criticism is always welcome. 🧡💜

Stranger Things Master list

*~*~*~*~*~*

Something about today as you woke up just felt wrong. The sun lit the room through your window, bathing everything in its golden rays. You blink wearily against the light, pulling your baby blue comforter around your shoulders, something deep in your gut is begging to stay, to avoid the day like it and everyone in it didn’t exist; but the yelling from down stairs won’t allow it. So with no other choice you throw the covers to the foot of your bed and shuffle to your closet.

“Well about damn time.” You amble into the kitchen, meet not only with the sour look on your mother’s face but the almost permanent ring of smoke circling her head. Ignoring her you head straight for the fridge. The hinges creak, the small bulb illuminating the nearly empty shelves as you snatch up the brown paper bag.

“Listen, Jerry is taking me out later so I’m not gonna be home, fend for yourself. ” Her scratchy voice irritates you further, your eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

Who? Jerry? Have I met him?

“Okay.” You glance at her briefly, bright pink curlers standing out amongst her greying hair, her attention fixed on the newspaper and Virginia Slims in her hand. The hard lines around her lips have turned her face into a scowl, and you briefly wonder when the last time you saw her smile was.

A horn blares outside in a short pattern, giving you your cue to leave. You force yourself to hurry to the door flinging your pack over your shoulder and shoving your feet into your shoes.

The late summer sun has already started baking the little town, the dew on the grass chilling your ankles as you make your way to the blue Camaro. Music rattles the windows as the driver drums to the beat on the steering wheel. You can faintly make out his head bobbing, blond curls swaying with the movement.

You pull the door open and flop in ungraciously, letting your head fall back against the leather seat with a groan. “Well good morning to you too, sunshine.” Billy laughs from beside you as he starts to reverse out of your drive way, an unlit cigarette hanging from between his lips.

“Nothin’ good about it.” You mumble, only loud enough for him to hear over his music.

He glances at you fully, focusing on the bags under your eyes, how your skin is slightly paler than usual. You’re dressed simply in an old black shirt with your favorite jeans, the jeans you almost always wear because you’ve ‘broken them in just right’.

“You feeling okay?” Billy flicks off his music as he peels off down the backroad towards school, the long way.

You let your head lull to the side, managing a small smirk at the fact that you two had unknowingly coordinated your outfits, yet again. Though he fills his shirt out more, the arms tight on his biceps just how he likes, the bottom tucked into his jeans military style. “I don’t know. I just feel… weird.” You make a face, focusing back on the road watching the green trees zip by. The leaves are starting to brown, a result of being at the highest point of summer.

Billy pulls his own face, propping his elbow on the door, he pulls the cigarette from his mouth, twirling it between his fingers. “Weird how? Like sick weird, throw up weird, period weird-.”

You groan again cutting him off, rubbing a hand over your eyes. “Just weird. I just want to go back to bed.”

“Wanna play hooky?” It’s a genuine question and you like the idea of it, a lot, but you shake your head.

“No. It’s the day before break and if they find out you’re skipping again you’ll get a detention.” Billy rolls his eyes, but doesn’t argue because he knows you’re right.

The rest of the ride is comfortably silent, letting you doze off for a few more precious moments before the engine dying startles you awake. You sit up straighter, running your fingers through your hair as you glance around, suddenly catching Billy’s unwavering stare.

“What’s that smell?”

A look of horror crosses your features, suddenly grabbing your shirt to bring to your nose. “What smell? I smell?”

“No, no, no. like… did you get a new perfume?” You shake your head slowly, watching him try to piece together in his head what it could be. “It smells good, like really good.” But he can’t put his finger on what exactly it is, so he leans closer, sniffing the air around you.

“God you’re weird.” You laugh, smushing his face with your palm as you push him away. You grab your bag as he mutters under his breath, reaching behind the seat for his own. You both step out onto the gravel parking lot, other student milling about making their way towards either the high school or the middle school next door. You start to walk off, expecting Billy to follow only to have your arm tugged back, stopping you in your tracks.

“Hey, wait.” Billy looms over you slightly, making you crane your neck to keep eye contact. You still weren’t entirely use to that new aspect. “Why don’t you come over tonight? We really haven’t hung out outside of school since…” He trails off, looking at you hopefully and you feel your muscles tighten, prepared to give an excuse.

It’s been months since Billy presented as an Alpha, months since everything between the two of you had suddenly shifted. On top of the ego and hot attitude he already possessed, people suddenly expected more of him, respected him like they hadn’t before. An Alpha in a town run by Betas.

Coming from a family of all Betas, watching your best friend become suddenly so… important made your insides tent with green jealousy. As happy as you wanted to be for him you felt yourself pull away, not wanting to stand in his shadow.

“I don’t-.”

“Look, it’s still me, Y/n. It’s still just Billy. We can grab dinner, watch movies, I’ll even do those stupid mud masks if you want just… just come over.” Please. Billy was never one to beg, but for you he made an exception. He had a soft side he kept behind mean words and cruel actions, and only you were privy to it.

Sighing you glance at the ground, analyzing the different sized rocks and tuffs of grass that managed to grow between them. The yellow dandelions turning their faces to the sky. “Okay… I’ll think about it.”

*~*~*~*~*~*

By lunch time you’ve progressively gotten worse, your body on autopilot as you move at a snails pace from class to class. Even most of your teachers have noticed, their honor student with her tired eyes, deciding to keep their questions for the rest of the class as you struggle to keep up. Currently you sit slumped over your food, your head in your hands, eyes closed and focusing on your breathing.

In your head you’re over thinking everything it could be, from the mild to the extreme. The flu to an aneurism, a common cold to a heart attack. Your paranoia latching on and prying deep. It’s only when you feel a presence creep up on you, no his presence, does something in your chest relax, letting your body shake off the unease.

“Hey, dolly.” Billy’s voice is warm and heavy when he drops into the seat beside yours, throwing an arm around your shoulders and dragging you into his side. The smell of his cologne is almost overwhelming, and it’s different, not the usual one he wears or the one you gifted him for his birthday. Pine, and leaves, and rain but something underneath that is entirely him.

“Hey.” You lean into his touch, your muscles relaxing and a soft sigh slipping past your lips. You don’t bother opening your eyes, just pressing your cheek into his chest, breathing him in.

Billy watches you, the soft lines in your face, the curve of your lips. Something in his brain demands to protect, the impulse so raw that it takes him by surprise. He tightens his grip on you, little to your notice.

“Still not feeling good?” You only shake your head in response. “Still thinking about coming over later?”

Yes.

It’s all you have been able to think about. It wasn’t like you had never spent the night with Billy before, either at his place or your own. That wasn’t what was bothering you.

You’d just never been alone with an Alpha. You’ve only meet three in Hawkins, the chief being one of them, and the other two married and mated. You’d heard the rumors that young Alphas were far more aggressive, unable to restrain themselves if their instincts took over, it was preached in every health class.

But what if he’s right? What if you’re just over reacting?

“Yeah, I’ll come over… but only if we go to Bennys tonight.”

Billy chuckles, and it’s a deep noise against your ear. “You drive a hard bargain.”

*~*~*~*~*~*

Billy had made good on his promise.

He took you straight from school to the Family Video in town, letting you pick out whatever you wanted with the promise that it wasn’t going to be sad.

Then it was on to the little five and dine, Bennys, the one that has your favorite pancakes and fruit salad. He blared the mix tape you had made months ago, despite your groaning, feeling accomplished when he caught you nodding along.

The house is empty and dark, Billy explaining that Neil had taken Max and Susan off somewhere for the week, as the two of you bring in everything from the car. He flicks on the lights as you drop onto the couch, rubbing your clammy palms against the front of your jeans.

Billy hums softly as he walks around the small living room, setting down the movies and food on the low coffee table. He glances over at you, your face pinched, lip caught between your teeth, and leg bouncing a mile a minute.

“Dolly.” Your eyes snap to his, a little wide at the curt clip of his tone. Billy stops in front of you, holding out his hand, watching as you shakily take it, pulling yourself to your feet.

“I think I should go home, really I just feel-.”

“Weird. I know.” He ducks his head slightly, searching your face with sympathetic eyes, “But we’re gonna get it figured out. I want you to go grab a shirt from my closet, get on something comfortable and come back in here.”

His expression leaves no room for argument, so you do as you’re told. His room is lit only by the small desk lamp, but you know you could find your way around in total darkness. Billy always leaves your favorite shirt in the same place in the closet, the stained grey one that reaches the middle of your thighs and hangs loosely about your frame. Leaving your jeans and shoes pooled by the foot of his bed, you steal a look at yourself in his mirror and cringe. You look as tired as you feel, shoulders slumped, ghostly complexion like you’d never seen the sun before.

You turn away with a disgruntled grunt. When you come back out the living room is dark again, the tv and kitchen light your only guide as you pad across the burnt orange carpet. You step around the couch, avoiding the gym equipment laying against the wall so as to not stub your toes like you are prone to do when you are over.

Billy’s dumped fresh popcorn into a giant blue bowl, a snack he knows you can never resist, as he meets you in the arch way. He smiles down at you as he passes the dish over and turns you back towards the couch. Throw blankets are pulled out over the cushions and the tape is already playing through the advertisements. Your meals are set up on your respective ends of the table and you feel something in your heart tighten painfully.

“See, just like old times.”

And he was right.

The night crept away filled with laughter, food, and cheesy horror movies that had you groaning more than trembling. Half way through the first one you’re both complaining about the terrible quality and laughing at the others jokes. Half way through the second you’re throwing popcorn into the air to see who can catch the most while gossiping about the latest ‘Small Town Scandal’.

By the end of the third you’re curled into Billy’s side, his long legs stretched out in front of him as you struggle to keep your eyes open. He’s warm with his arm tucked around your shoulders, and his heart beat is steady against your ear. It lulls you in and out of sleep as the credits begin to roll.

“Billy…” You whisper, poking him in the side with your finger.

“Hmm?”

“Movie’s over.”

He groans and starts to sit up, helping you with a hand on your back. “Next time I pick the movies.” You both sluggishly move to his room, crawling under the grey covers of his full sized bed.

“Told you.” He mumbles, sleep making his voice deep and gravelly. “Right as rain.” You only give a small grunt though a smile pulls at your lips as you nestle under the covers, surrendering easily to the peaceful sleep that over comes you.

For a few hours at least.

*~*~*~*~*~*

You don’t know exactly how you ended up here, but here you are, curled in on yourself on the cold tile of Billy’s ugly green bathroom going into heat.

A heat you aren’t supposed to be having.

Tears steadily stream over your pink painted cheeks as you hug the side of the bathtub, another burning cramp sending a rush of pain through every nerve in your body.

It’s as if someone has doused you gasoline and struck a match. Your body burns from the inside out with an intensity you’d never felt before, the cramps in your lower stomach hurling you into the fetal position as the continue to seize your body. But above it all was the ache between your thighs. Your sex pulsed and squeezed, fogging your thoughts through the waves of arousal soaking your panties and dripping down the sensitive skin of your inner thighs.

Why is there so much?

You desperately try to think about anything you’ve learned over the years about Omegas and their heats, but all you can focus on is the ache in your body. What good are you as a straight A student if you can’t remember a simple health class?

You groan, pitchy and breathless, trying to muffle the noise by biting into your lip. Subconsciously, you’re praying that something, anything, anyone, would save you from this hell as you sob harder, another cramp slicing through your abdomen.

“Y/n?” Billy’s voice floats through the wooden door and you freeze, even the tremors in your muscles stop momentarily. You don’t dare make a sound, don’t even breath as you wait, hoping it’s your imagination until the white door rattles under his knuckles. “Sweetheart? I’m coming in…”

Your head snaps up, eyes landing on the unlocked brass handle and you nearly slip on the small rug in your efforts to get up. A fresh wave of pain seizes your body with a whine as the door swings open.

The low amber light illuminates him against the dark hallway, his curly hair tussled from sleep, pressed down on one side. He’s only wearing those annoyingly short gym shorts, his bronze skin and large frame on display. His chest is rising and falling quickly, like he’d just ran miles to get here.

Billy had woken to that same scent from earlier pelting his senses, stronger, and all fully feminine. Lavender and vanilla and lilac but earthy and natural and purely his. It covered his sheets and comforter and filled his room. He followed it straight to the bathroom, his wolf guiding him more than himself and now he’s entranced, bewitched even as he stares down at you.

Your cheeks are wet, hair teased like you’d been pulling on it. The shirt you are wearing is soaked with cold sweat, and he can smell your slick, making his mouth water.

A deep rumbling growl escapes from his chest before he can even register it’s happening, pulling a submissive whimper from you as you drop onto the edge of the tub, staring wide eyed like a lost puppy. He takes a step closer and you flinch involuntarily, embarrassed and horrified this was all happening right here, right in front of him as your wrap your arms around your center.

“I… I need to go home, Billy.” Your voice is uneven and octaves higher, your chest constricting with each painful breath as your watery eyes drop away from his smoldering gaze. Billy couches down in front of you on the shaggy bath mat, wrapping a large palm around the back of your calf. He gives the tense muscle a firm squeeze, trying to ground you in anyway he can as you whimper and squirm, his presence worsening the pain.

This is what Alphas do to Omegas, unknowingly spur this heat into overdrive.

Billy takes a steadying breath, licking his lips, and searches your tear streaked face. “You’re in heat, little Omega…” It’s like his words amplify everything by ten and your suddenly teetering on the edge of the tub, your hands flying out for support as a wave of pain makes you cry out.

Your palms land on his chest as you finally drag your gaze to his, his blue irises hooded with that animalistic need, mirroring your own. “I don’t… understand… why?” You pant, his scent intoxicating making you lean in, unable to get enough.

Billy only shakes his head, pressing in closer, spreading your knees around his waist as his hand travels up to your thigh. “You’re presenting, it’s going to be okay.” Billy’s other hand finds your hip, and it takes every last bit of concentration you have to focus on him as your sex pulses with need, demanding attention.

“I don’t… I don’t know what to do… it hurts so bad…” Your voice breaks, shaking harshly as your hands slip up to the back of his neck, pulling him closer without a thought because he feels so good, so right against your skin as his width presses your thighs farther apart. Billy doesn’t stop you either, his eyes fluttering at the feeling of your fingers tangling into the hair at the back of his neck. Your scent is over powering at this proximity, his grip tightening on your body to control himself.

He coos lightly, his eyes dropping to your lips, specifically your plump lower one now darkening as a bruise forms in the shape of your teeth. “I know baby, I’m here, I’m going to help you.”

“How?” You croak, the uncertainty in your voice stabbing Billy in the chest.

“You trust me right?” He drops his voice to a whisper, his body flush with your own, hands slowly skimming up your body to rest against your neck. You swallow thickly, before nodding. Billy leans forward, closing off that last little bit of distance with a testing kiss.

Need shoots through you, stronger that ever and you respond hungrily. Your arms slip fully around his neck, sliding off of the tub with a desperate moan. Instinct takes over, your submissiveness showing as you open yourself to him, Billy’s tongue licking into your mouth as the kiss turns more wild.

Billy stands, holding you easily with two large hands cupping your ass, as he turns heading for the door. Your legs wrap around his waist, humming into the kiss as he bumps into a wall, his steps uneven as he makes his way into his bedroom.

You gasp for breath as he lowers you both onto the bed, his weight warm and welcoming. “Pretty Omega, my sweet girl.” His lips tickle your ear as he leans in, his hands fisting the blankets by your head as he starts to leave the bed. You whine loudly, your legs locking around his hips forcefully. Billy chuckles, a deep sound that makes your back bow up. “Gotta let go, let me up honey.”

“Please…” You beg, “Don’t leave me, Alpha.” It is the first time you have ever used his new title, his pounding heart going into double time. He shifts his weight, cupping your face with one hand, as your squirm. You desperately try to rut your hips against his, the feeling of having him so close but not close enough making your chest constrict and your head spin.

Somewhere in the back of your lust addled brain you knows you should be embarrassed, your desperation turning you into someone you’re not. But the new beast prowling under your skin refuses to let that happen. She knows just what she wants and will have it.

“I’m right here baby, but you’ve got to let me help you. You can do that, can’t you?” Billy’s words are laced with a calming purr, thumb swiping carefully over your lips, catching on the bottom one and pulling it down slightly. Only when you nod, your limbs relaxing around him, does he let it go with a soft plop. “Good girl.”

He doesn’t bother with formalities, instead gripping the collar of the old t-shirt in both hands and tugging. He rips the worn material down the center, making you yelp in surprise. He’s more forgiving with your panties, fingers dipping below the elastic as he tugs them down your legs. The pale purple cotton is drenched with your slick, turning the color a dark shade that makes him moan at the sight. Billy tosses them over his shoulder carelessly, fixing his attention on your trembling body laid out before him.

“You’re so wet, just fucking drenched.” You jump and moan as he swipes a finger through your puffy lips, watching as your cunt squeezes around air. He wasn’t lying when he said you were drenched, your slick glistening off of your thighs, slipping down the curve of your ass to his bedsheets. The sight alone is enough to have him throbbing painfully in the confines of his shorts.

He can’t help himself as he starts to play with your pussy, barely dipping his long fingers between your lips before dragging them up to your clit. He circles the bud slowly, watching in awe as you respond so eagerly, head thrown back loud moans filling the space around you. You cry an abundance of pleas, his name mixed with any other words you can manage to string together. Your hips rock to take his fingers deeper each time he circles your opening, face scrunched with a mixture of pleasure and pain.

Finally pulling himself away from your body, Billy nearly shreds his shorts in his haste to get rid of them. His cock springs free with a groan, his eyes squeezing shut momentarily as his head drops back. It’s pulsing and uncomfortably hard, beads of milky precum roll down his thick shaft, catching in the corse blond hair at the base.

“Look at me, Omega.” His demand washes over you, compelling you the only way and Alpha can, to do as your told. You lift your head, dazed eyes settling on his handsome face. His kiss swollen lips are parted slightly, eyes wild with need as his gaze consumes you. You never felt more exposed and yet safe at the same time.

Then your eyes flicker lower.

You let loss a wavering moan, fingers curling into the covers as you openly stare. Billy smiles, enjoying the way you follow his hand as he wraps it around himself, pumping his shaft slowly. He’s big, bigger than you would of imagined him to be. His fingers barely wrapping around his girth and if you want to be honest with yourself it’s intimidating.

“Billy… I’ve never…” He climbs onto the bed between your thighs, rough hands slipping down your skin, squeezing the supple fat under his fingertips.

“It’s okay, let me take care of you.” Billy leans down, capturing your lips in a slow, distracting kiss. Your eyes fall shut, arms slipping around his shoulders as he slowly aligned himself with your entrance. He presses forward and you gasp against his lips. The thick mushroom head squeezes in with a soft pop, breaching your walls and already making you feel so full and empty all at once.

Billy’s hand makes it’s way down to your thigh, lifting your leg and spreading you open as he drives his hips forward. He moans loudly, pressing his forehead against yours as he stills, a little under halfway inside you. “Takin’ me-fuck- you’re takin’ me so well.”

Your nails are digging into his skin, leaving big red lines in their wake as you try to hold onto something. You’d feel bad under normal circumstances if it didn’t seem like he was enjoying it so much. Billy’s lips find your neck, nuzzling the underside of your jaw, and trailing down to your shoulder. He’s breathing you in between sloppy kisses, your scent somehow sweeter than before.

“Please… please Billy.” Your leg hooks around his hips to encourage him to move and with one finally thrust he bottoms out into your spasming cunt. Your head presses back into the mattress, a low moan rattling out of your chest as the feeling of it all washes over you. You’re stuffed full, his weight bearing down on you, but for the first time in hours you feel a sense of calm settle into your bones. You were made for him, made just for this.

Billy lifts his head, your eyes catching in the dim light, and he gives you a lopsided smile. He pulls nearly completely out before filling you up again. You cry out his name, voice cracking on the syllables.

“That’s right baby, just like that.” Your walls flutter around his cock, his thrusts evening out as he finds his pace. Your hips rock to meet his, soft noises falling from your lips to accompany the harsh moans leaving him. The head of his cock is kissing your cervix, bringing in an entirely different kind of pain with the pleasure.

“Alpha… please… gonna cum!” Your fingers find his hair, tugging harshly as your body shakes harder. Billy slips his hand between your bodies, rubbing tight circles against your throbbing clit. You scream as your orgasm washes over your body so quickly it leaves you dizzy, your release gushing and coating his cock.

“Fuuuuck.” He squeezes his eyes shut, teeth bared as he fucks you through it. Your cunt trying to milk his own from him as he picks up his pace. You sob loudly, tears rolling down your temples as your hands slip to his sides, urging him not to stop.

“Please… Alpha… I uhh-.”

He slams into you, the sound of skin against skin filling the room. “You’re so pretty on my cock, I just want to keep you here. Fuck your like this for the rest of my life.” His hand skims up to your abdomen, he presses down ever so slightly and you gasp, hips bucking at the sudden pressure. “This pussy was made just for that wasn’t it? Made just for me.”

Billy pulls out at a maddeningly slow drag, your cunt fighting to keep him in as he rubs along every right spot, making pleasure bloom at the base of your spine and radiate outwards. Only the tip of his cock rests between your folds, anticipation and excitement humming adding to the trembling of your limbs.

“Tell me baby.” Billy mumbles, cupping the back of your neck, squeezing and lifting you up from the mattress slightly. Your eyes lazily slide open, a languid smile spreading across your face that makes him falter. His heart suddenly beats impossibly faster, all of his thoughts flying from his brain except one.

This girl is mine.

“S-so good, ba-baby… d-don’t stop.” You stutter out between chattering teeth, hips rocking up taking him a few centimeters deeper.

Billy growls lowly pushing in all the way before pulling back out, he falls forward, bending you nearly in half as he cages you in. His mouth finds yours, sloppy and clashing teeth as his hips piston against yours, driving himself impossibly deeper as you cry and moan for him.

“You feel so fucking good,” He pants, lips skimming along your cheek, past your slack jaw and to your throat, nuzzling the delicate area where he can see your pulse pounding. “Always knew you’d feel this good.”

“B-Billy… Billy I’m gonna…” With each thrust your orgasm draws closer, pushing you to the limits of your pleasure, head tossed back and toes curling as you cling to him. Your cunt squeezes around him, pulsing rhythmically, letting him know you’re close.

“I’m gonna come Y/n, I’m gonna fuck you full of me and you’re going to take it all, are you? Gonna let me breed you, baby?” Billy isn’t graced with a reply, instead your body draws taught against his as you scream his name. Your orgasm rushes over you, washing any sense from your brain as your hips buck against his, and it’s his undoing.

Billy bottoms out, rope after rope of thick cum spilling into your spasming pussy, his knot swelling and locking you in place as he ruts into you. You can feel each pulse, and twitch, his spend filling you and sedating that insatiable need for the time being. Your body relaxes into his, that smile never leaving your lips.

“My Omega.” He whispers against your skin, teeth dragging and scratching your skin as he fights himself, his wolf demanding to lay its claim. “I need you.” He breaths, sinking his teeth into your flesh.

*~*~*~*~*~*

By the time morning seeps in through the blinds, neither of you have slept. Currently your laid out on his chest, the sheet draped over your backside as his seed fills your cunt. Billy’s hand is imbedded in your hair, the other on your hip, gripping you to him as he moans into the air.

It takes several minutes, and by the time his grip slackens there’s a small bulge in your abdomen. You’re blinking lazily, the haze of the night slowly clearing itself from your mind. “Billy?”

“Yes, baby?” His heart beat is evening out, the rhythmic thump seeping into your body.

You swallow, lifting your head and resting your chin on his chest. His eyes are closed, head tilted back relaxed against the pillows. His palm rubs up and down your side, gentle and calm.

Sometime during the night, between lust filled spurts of need, you had felt the mark. Your fingers had traced over the raised indents his teeth had left, several times. The realization that you were mated to your best friend hitting you like a crushing pile of bricks, and yet…

“We’re mated.” You whisper, feeling his chest stutter slightly. He clears his throat, the hand in your hair twitching slightly.

“I should of asked you. I’m sorry.” His voice holds a note of something you can’t place, his eyes are still closed, refusing to look at you. You sit up slowly, his knot still firmly in place, moaning a little at the feeling. That grabs his attention. Billy’s gaze snags on your face, where he finds your softly smile and gentle eyes.

“There are worse people to be mated with, I suppose.” Billy smiles, his hands resting on your hips, his grip firm and comforting.

“Definitely, could of been Danny.” You shudder at the thought of Billy’s little minion of a friend and he laughs loudly. “Come’er.” You happily oblige, kissing him slowly, pouring yourself into him as he does the same. Everything falling into the perfect rhythm.

There are definitely worse ways to find your forever.

[yourfavoritewitchbitch]

It's Called Murder, Baby!

A Scream x Stranger Things AU

Part II

Read Part I Here

Synopsis: A string of gruesome murders takes a toll on the small town of Hawkins. Friends and family start looking like suspects making it hard to trust those who you are closest to.

Chapter Summary: A killer is still on the loose with the whole town on edge. Was this a single incident or is there more to come? Hopper puts his foot down leaving things tense with you and Steve.

18+ Only! Minors DNI!

This work will contain elements of violent themes (depictions of crime scenes, murders, etc) and smut. This is a slasher fic!

Warnings: Minimal use of Y/N. AFAB!Reader. Graphic character deaths/murders - depictions of how they were found after the murder. Semi-Public Sex. Oral (m receiving). Pet names. Choking. Degradation. Smoking marijuana. P in V (wrap it before you tap it!). Creampie.

Word Count: 5.3K

In all of Jim’s twenty plus years on the force, he thought he’d seen it all. Hawkins had its share of crime, but murder was never high on that list. The usually quiet town had only seen something of this caliber once before.

He was here 10 years ago when Principal Higgin’s was strung up by his feet and found hanging on the goal post at Hawkin’s High football field, sliced open from neck to navel like a freshly killed deer ready for processing. It was gruesome and bloody. They had never seen anything like it and hoped they’d never have to deal with something like it again.

The murders of Jason and Chrissy brought a whole new meaning to what he’d thought he’d seen.

Jason was found tied to a chair. He had been stabbed at least ten times before his throat ultimately slit. They were still unsure if he was already dead before his neck was reached.

Chrissy was found a few feet away, strung up by her feet. Rope tied to the second-floor landing, extending over the living room. In eerily similar fashion to that murder 10 years ago, she was also gutted.

It was as if Jason had been made to watch. This was brutal and seemed personal.

He had the file spread out across his desk, looking and relooking at all the evidence as he reached for another smoke. He’d been chain smoking since he’d left the crime scene this morning.

It was now well past two in the afternoon, and he was no closer to figuring this shit out. It was going to be a long night.

A knock came at his door followed by Deputy Callahan poking his head in.

“Yeah?” Came his gruff voice, already irritated by the younger man’s presence. Callahan was a constant pest.

“Hey Sheriff, uh, sorry to bother you, but I thought you might like to see today’s paper.” The shit eating smirk on his face told a different story.

Callahan waltzes over, handing him the latest edition.

He read the headline and briefly skimmed the article underneath.

“Meeting, now!” He finally huffed, reddened face on display. Callahan didn’t miss a beat.

“On it, sir.”

It wasn’t unusual to have an “emergency” meeting at the station, especially with the way the morning had gone.

Steve was settled at his desk, Robin was sitting across from him rambling about something he wasn’t paying much attention to, still too distracted by the evidence before him. Looking at it all as if he would magically see something they had missed.

Callahan hadn’t even bothered knocking, door opening with a crooked grin.

“Meeting, Sheriff’s office. Now.”

Robin looked at Steve and shrugged.

Everyone shuffled into the room, cramming into the corners trying to fit into the small office.

Hopper was unusually quiet, not meeting anyone’s gaze as they filed in. Steve immediately clocked the newspaper he had folded in his hand.

Powell was the last, closing the door behind him. As soon as it clicked into place Hopper spoke up.

“I don’t think I should have to remind you all how delicate a case like this is.” Everyone nodded in agreement as he finally looked around.

“Yes. Yes, sir. Yes, Sheriff.” Came from around the room.

“So, who the fuck talked to the press?” He threw the paper on the desk, unfurling to reveal the headline. His finger pinning it and pointing to your article.

Steve maintained his composure, but he wanted to rip his hair out. He hadn’t seen the paper yet, so he stepped up reading the contents, Robin shuffled right in beside him.

His jaw tightened. He hadn’t told you anything about the mask they had found.

A few more seconds ticked by. Steve finally stepped back catching Callahan looking straight at him, that same smirk plastered to his face from earlier.

Little Fucker, Steve thought.

Jim groaned as he sat back down, before finally speaking again. “Powell, Callahan. Get out and close the door.”

Wasting no time, quickly doing as they were told to make sure to stay on Hopper’s good side. Callahan skirted past Steve, smiling as he went. Steve was already seething with his fists clenched tightly to his sides. If looks could kill, the other would have been a dead man.

Robin clutched the paper reading it more carefully, as she took the seat in front of his desk.

Steve strolled up behind her, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Look,” Jim sighed, looking right at him. “I don’t care what the hell you do after hours but do not let it interfere with my investigation.”

“Hop,” Robin went to interject but was quickly cut off.

“Let me finish,” She snapped her mouth shut and nodded. “Unfortunately, I know it had to have been one of you. No one outside of this room knew about that goddamn mask.”

He let his words wash over them both. Robin’s shoulders sank as she sat further into her seat. He noticed Steve’s jaw clench.

“Callahan had a run in with her here today in the station. Care to explain?” He sat back, reaching for yet again for another smoke. Joyce would kill him if she knew how many he’d had today.

“Hop, I swear,” Robin was the first to crack, always was. “She just came in for a visit. We had coffee…” She trailed off when she felt Steve’s hand rest on her shoulder.

“She came in to talk to me,” Steve looked Jim in the eye as he spoke. “But I swear to God I didn't say a word about that fucking mask.”

Hopper sighed; he knew Steve would never undermine him like that.

He nodded. “No more press in the station until this shit is over. Not even her.”

“Yes sir,” they stated in unison.

“Ok then, who else could have known?”

Steve trudged out of Hopper's office in a huff, with Robin hot on his heels as she followed him back into his office, shutting the door behind them.

“Steve,” she started.

“Don't.” He sat down, with a sigh as he opened the folder once again in front of him and rubbed his hands down his face.

“You didn't tell her that, did you?” She asked quietly before taking the chair in front of him, eyes worrying over him. Surely, he wasn't that stupid?

“Of course not,” he scoffed, incredulously. “You know better than that.”

“Right, yeah, I know… but you two are… close.” She wouldn’t dare meet his eyes after it slipped out.

“Close, yeah. But I wouldn't jeopardize an investigation like that.” She nodded, as he got up wearily from his seat.

‘Hey, where are you going?” She shouted as he was halfway out the door.

“To get some answers.”

The copier was currently holding your paper hostage, as it got lodged in the rollers. Cursing the damn thing as you started the process of digging it out.

Nancy walked by just in time to see you struggling.

“There you are, heads up. Trouble is headed this way.” You looked over her shoulder in time to catch Steve's stern face looking right at you as he stepped through the door.

“Shit,” you breathed out.

She gave you a wry, pitying look before leaving you to it.

“Hey Steve, I…” you began, but he grabbed your bicep pulling you along with him, giving you no choice but to follow. He dragged you into the small conference room down the hall in which you two frequently met.

Only letting you go once you were both in, shutting the door. He was unusually quiet, eyes lingering down as if contemplating what needed to be said.

“So, I take it, you've seen the paper?” You asked softly.

He nodded, “Who told you about the mask?”

You knew it would come, but you were prepared.

“It was an anonymous source, and I took the chance.” You shrugged.

“Anonymous source? Who?” He narrowed his gaze, but you stood your ground, standing up a little straighter crossing your arms over your chest.

“I don't know, Steven, it was an anonymous tip. They didn't quite let me catch their name before they hung up.”

“Right, like you don't know. So why would you run it if you didn't know if it was true?” He stepped closer into your space.

“I just had a gut feeling. Looks like I was right if you're here.” Gesturing toward him.

He planted his hands on his hips, looking down his nose at you trying to look intimidating, only managing to turn you on instead.

“Yeah, and now Hop is on my ass thinking that I leaked it. You sure you didn't see something in that file on my desk?”

“And when would I have done that? While I was in your lap, and you were balls deep? You were there too. I didn't snoop in your fucking file.” You start turning away from him, tired of the questioning.

“Wait, look,” his hand wraps softly around your wrist, catching you from moving too far away from him.

“I'm sorry, I know you didn't snoop. This is just a big case, Hops worried about making sure it isn't fucked up.” You nodded, secretly relishing the way you could easily get him worked up and then he’s always the first to apologize.

“I know Steve, I wouldn't do something to compromise your job. You should know that.”

He absentmindedly bit his lower lip, his mind in overdrive once again.

“I've got to get back to the Station. I'll be there late tonight.”

He turned and headed back out into the newsroom. Turning heads as he went, permanent scowl etched onto his face.

It was getting late in the evening, around 8 pm. Eddie should have been by to pick you up at 6 but had called earlier saying he was running late.

“Sorry sweetheart, boss wants me to stay and finish up this last car that came in today.” He had said.

You were the only one left in the building. Nancy had offered to take you home, but you didn't want to be an inconvenience.

You were doing some research on another story Tom had assigned you, paying little attention to anything else around you.

The doors were locked. All the lights were low except the one still at your desk, head buried in a pile of copy you were looking over.

It was then you heard a sharp screech, as if a door creaked open making your head shoot up. You stood, walking slowly to the doorway leading to the back of the building, listening closely for any other sounds.

You rounded the corner that led to a narrow hall, and beyond that was the back of the building. There was only one exit door in the back, and you were sure that Tom had locked it on his way out.

“Hello? Is someone there?” You shouted down the darkened hall. No sounds or movements from that direction. Heart beating heavy in your chest as your eyes adjusted to see further into the dark but there was nothing and no one.

“Shit, get a grip.” You hissed to yourself.

You turned to go back to your desk, bumping into something very solid, as you jumped and let out a small squeak of surprise. His hand wrapping around your waist, steading you. Looking up into a familiar face with deep hazel eyes immediately calmed your now jangled nerves.

“Shit Steve, you didn’t have to sneak up on me.” Your heart still beating rapidly.

“I was checking the doors. The back was unlocked. Why aren’t you being more careful? There's still a killer on the loose.” He looked worried then, always caring about your well-being. He brushed the loose strands of hair behind your ear that had fallen after a long day, cupping your cheek in the process.

“Good thing I have a big, bad Sheriff to keep an eye out for me.” You smiled, as his gaze softened.

“Eddie coming to pick you up?” He whispered, inching closer to you. Crowding into you even further, closing the distance, pushing you into the wall as your back came to rest against it.

You nod. “He's just running a little late.”

“I’d never keep you waiting,” he mumbled against your lips, letting them finally meld into yours as you hummed in response, he let his other hand meet your hip, pulling you back into him.

“Stevie, I… I can't. He'll be here any minute.” You breathed out, pushing him away slightly.

He nodded, kissing your forehead tenderly before pulling completely away, immediately missing the warmth his body provided.

“Steve, wait, I'm sorry about the paper. Sometimes I just get ahead of myself and don't think about who else it might affect.” You placed your palm to his cheek, forcing his eyes on you.

Your other hand trailed the length of his shirt, past his belt, firmly cupping his bulge as he sucked in a sharp breath.

“I don't have a lot of time, but I could still make it up to you.” You whispered, looking up at him innocently.

“Let me make it up to you.” You gripped the front of his shirt, as he held out his hand to help lower you to the floor.

Your knees hit the hard linoleum with a small thump, as he allowed himself to bump into the wall behind him.

He looked down at you with an affection that suddenly made your chest ache. You were expecting lust, not his doe eyes sparkling in the low light.

He removed his duty belt, sitting it on the table to the side of you.

“Stevie, don't look at me like that.”

“Like what, honey?”

You looked ahead, choosing to ignore him instead, popping the button on his slacks and undoing his zipper slowly, his cock beginning to strain against his confinements as you reached into his briefs, fingers wrapping around the base. He let out a small moan, as he closed his eyes, letting his head fall back against the wall.

His cock kicked up with your touch, engorging further, growing to his full length before your eyes. You licked your lips as your mouth began to salivate.

You moved your hand up his velvety length, collecting the growing bead of pearlescent precum at his slit, letting your thumb slowly spread it across his head before bringing it back down.

“Fuck,” he moaned out, every touch sending electricity through his veins, as if he hadn't already been inside of you earlier today.

You held his base, and kitten licked at his head, eliciting more breathy moans as you began to kiss up and back down his hard cock at a torturous pace before finally wrapping your lips around his head, swirling your tongue and sucking lightly before taking as much of him into your mouth that you could fit. Slowly bobbing your head and then picking up the pace, working in tandem with the hand wrapped around the rest of him.

You gagged just a bit, when he nudged the back of your throat a little too hard from your own eagerness.

He looked back down at the sound, cupping your cheek gently, thumb softly caressing you,

“Hey, hey take it easy baby doll. Can't make a mess of this pretty little face right now. Just take it easy honey.”

You nodded, bobbing your head slowly once again.

“That's it baby doll. Slow and steady now.”

You free hand toys with his balls, rolling them deftly between your fingers.

“Oh shit, yeah. Just like that baby.” He cooed.

You speed up your movements on his length, feeling his sack tense and draw up a bit from the change in pace.

“That's it, baby doll, I'm about to cum already. Can I cum in that pretty mouth?”

You nodded as he grunted and spilled down your throat, relaxing a bit more so you could swallow as much as possible. The salty, tangy taste had you humming around him.

His cock twitched once more before stilling, as you moved off of him with a slight pop, wiping the drool and any of him that escaped down the side of your mouth. You wrapped your lips around your finger, licking it off, not letting a single drop go to waste.

“C’mere,” giving you his hand once again to help you up, winching as you felt the pain in your knees from being in the latter position.

“I…” you were about to speak, as headlights cut through the blinds, illuminating you both.

“Shit,” he hissed, drawing back, putting himself away and grabbing for his belt before securing it back around his waist.

“It's Eddie. He'll be ok for a few minutes.” You straightened your rumpled shirt, smoothing some errant stray hairs back into place.

You grabbed your purse, as he finished fixing his clothes.

“Come on, I'll have to lock up behind you. Walk me out.”

He followed closely, Eddie's eyes cut to the both of you upon exit, taking a slow drag of the cigarette held tightly between his lips.

He rolled down his window as you cut in front of the van to climb into the passenger seat.

“Evening Harrington,” he grinned. “Out on patrol?”

Steve glared, licking his lips before striding up the van, clearing his throat a bit.

“Eddie,” nodding toward the other man. “Just checking some doors around town. Y/N would forget her head sometimes.”

“Yeah,” he clicked his tongue, “yeah she would.” He looked over to you as you rolled your eyes back at him. You leaned over as he met you halfway placing a soft kiss to his lips.

“Thanks for checking on me Steve.” Throwing him a soft smile and wink, sitting back into the seat as your seatbelt clicked into place.

Eddie smirked, tapping his fingers against the top of the door. Steve caught sight of the newly formed bruises and scratches there.

“Yeah, Steve,” grabbing your hand from the console, pulling it in for a soft kiss, before turning back to him, “thanks for checking on my girl.”

“No problem. Nasty cuts you got there.” Nodding his chin toward them.

Eddie flexed his hand, “Yeap, caught it on a bitch of a radiator yesterday.”

Steve, growing tired of the awkward small talk, decided to take his leave.

“Well, you two be careful.” Patting the side of the van, turning back in the direction of the station.

“See ya’ around Stevie.” Eddie called out, chuckling loudly, sliding the gear shift into reverse, backing out from his spot.

“You don't have to be rude to him.” You scolded as he pulled out onto the road.

“He's just so easy to fuck with babe. I can't help it. Especially when he's so smug thinking you two are cheating behind my back.” He laughed deeply.

“He’s not smug about it. He worries about you catching us all the time.”

“Good. He should be.”

Eddie took a left, instead of the right back to your house.

“Where are we going?” You asked but he didn't answer right away, grin only growing wider, more devilish looking.

“Don't worry baby, it's a nice night for a drive. Thought we might go parking.”

“Parking, huh? Wanna do it in the back of the van, like in high school?” You comically lifted your brow. “How romantic.”

“I'm just kidding, unless you wanna?” Wiggling his eyebrows suggestively, that had you laughing.

It was always the little moments with Eddie. He'd know exactly how to make you laugh or quell your nerves after a long day. You trusted him wholly.

“I wanted to take you to a spot I found the other day. Wanted to share a joint and see where the night takes us.”

“You do know there's a killer on the loose, right?”

“You got nothin’ to worry about, sweetheart. You're safe with me.” Somehow you knew he was telling the truth.

He took you further out of the main city, a few more twists and turns, you were thoroughly lost. Never one with a good sense of direction. Kicking your heels off and tossing them in the back, you got more comfortable, pulling your legs under you.

Asphalt turned into gravel, as he slowed to a roll, finally throwing the van into park at a clearing.

You looked out the windshield, it was a clear night. Moon brightly reflecting off of Lover's Lake, small waves cresting on the shore in front of you.

Though this wasn't a new spot like he'd said, it was your spot. You recognized the big tree directly by the lake.

“Surprise,” he sang out.

“This isn't a new spot, Eddie.”

“Yeah, yeah. I know. Sue me.” He laughs, digging into the pocket of his jumpsuit, producing a pre-rolled joint, bringing it to his lips.

“You’ve been a naughty girl today.” Stating it matter-of-factly. Lighting the end, sucking lightly until he knows it's lit.

He looks at you, eyes hooded, dropping his voice a little deeper. “Haven't you sweetheart?”

His words ignited your core. You knew that tone well.

He offered it to you, taking it gingerly, bringing it to your own lips inhaling the sweet strain as he intensely watched your movements.

“And you,” pointing over at him, “have always been a very jealous boyfriend.”

He scoffs, taking it back from you, letting it wash over him.

“If I was jealous, I wouldn't let you whore around with him all over town.”

You laughed out, clear and bright as the weed began to flow through your system.

“Let's get one thing straight, you've never told me to do anything in this relationship. I do what I want.”

He slowly places the joint in the ashtray, and then moves quickly before you have time to react, pinning you by the throat pushing you into the passenger seat, rings biting into the tender flesh. You gasped out, reaching up to grab his hand.

“Sweetheart, maybe it's time to put that mouth to some good use.” He whispered close to your ear.

“Maybe I already did.” You grinned wickedly at him.

“You little whore, kissing me with that mouth after his cock’s been shoved halfway down your throat?” His fingers tightened, as you nodded.

“Bet his cum’s still lingering on your tongue. Huh?”

“Mmmmm, yeah baby. He finished right before you pulled in to pick me up.”

He removed his hand from your throat to pinch your cheeks harshly, forcing your lips into a sweet pout, as he roughly brings his lips to yours, you close your eyes, humming in contentment.

You felt him smirk against you, pulling back slightly, “You’re fucking filthy baby. How'd I get so lucky? Hey, look at me.” You snapped your eyes open to see his own blown wide with lust, so dark they were almost black.

“Get in the back. Take your clothes off.”

You didn't hesitate, as he finally released you, climbing over the console as quickly as you could. He picked up what was left of his joint, inhaling deeply, letting it sit in his lungs a moment before exhaling.

Eddie kept the back of the van clean, a spare blanket folded into the corner just for occasions like this to save your knees or ass from a wicked carpet burn. You had learned from experience.

You carefully unfolded it and smoothed out the edges. He was still smoking and concentrating on the water beyond the window, like his mind was elsewhere.

Unbuttoning your blouse, and quickly shimmying out of your skirt leaving you in just your panties and bra you laid down, awaiting your next instruction.

“I said take your clothes off. That means everything.” He spoke without looking back.

You quickly shed the offending articles.

“Good girl.” He purred, finally facing you to get a good look.

“Open your legs, yeah, that's it baby.” He had a perfect view of your cunt, untouched but already dripping.

“Go ahead, touch yourself f’me.” Slowly reaching down between your thighs, taking some slick from your leaking hole, bringing it back up as you slowly start to draw circles around your clit.

“Oooooh, Eddie,” you moaned, throwing your head back at the feeling, already worked up from sucking Steve off.

“Eyes on me baby.” You look up just in time to see him pushing his coveralls past his hips, his cock straining his boxers. He pulled those down slightly, freeing his already hard cock.

It had you licking your lips at the sight. He didn’t quite have the girth that Steve does, but he was just a little longer, with a slight curve upward.

He spit in his hand before wrapping it around the base, hissing out, sliding it up and back down, setting a slow pace as he watched you torturously toy with your bundle of nerves.

“That's it sweetness, go ahead finger fuck that tight pussy.” Moving your fingers down, you easily slid two in, whining out and arching your back. You began to rock your palm into your clit as your fingers slid in and out.

“Bet you wish that was my cock instead? Huh?” You nodded, mouth going slack at the feeling as another whine escaped but you needed more. You needed him.

“Please, Eds. I need your cock. I need you to fuck me.”

“Jesus, you are a greedy whore. Two of your holes stuffed already today and you still want more?” He chuckled but opened his door exiting to move around to the back. He didn’t intend to leave you hanging. He needed your cunt wrapped around him just as much as you needed him to fill you.

The back doors opened with a flush of cold air, as he quickly worked to push his coveralls down climbing in to meet you, shutting the door behind him. He removed his shirt and threw it in the corner to meet your own pile of clothes.

You turned yourself around to face him, as he crawls in-between your thighs, pushing them further apart as he made his way up.

He trailed hot, open mouth kisses along your sternum before turning his attention to your pebbled nipples. Quickly drawing one into his mouth, sucking sharply. Palming your neglected breast with his free hand.

“Oh Eddie,” you thread your fingers in his hair, tightening your grip on his curls when you feel him bite down.

“Oh fuck!” You squealed, as he releases his mouth, bringing it to the other repeating the same motions.

He continued his journey upward, laving his tongue up your breasts, neck and jaw.

His arms finally cage you in, as his body pushes you further into the floor. You wrap your legs around his lithe waist, as he pushes his hips down, rolling them into yours letting his cock brush through your folds.

“Eddie, please.” You gripped his shoulders, throwing your head back as his ruddy tip nudged your clit, sending sparks through your core and up your spine.

“Eddie, please.” He mocked, high pitched and whiny. His lips kissed up your jaw as he found the shell of your ear. “Such a needy little whore.”

He braced himself with one arm by your head, taking his length with the other bringing his leaking tip to your entrance.

He caught your entrance and slightly pushed in, but it already has you arching into him. He watches himself slowly disappear into your tight heat, inch by inch.

“Fuck, baby. She's sucking me in. So, fucking tight.” He lowers his forehead to yours savoring the sensation for a moment, before he quickly grips your thigh, pushing it higher onto his hip as he's pulling almost all the way out, just to sink straight back in.

“Oh fuck… mmmmm… Eddie.”

He rocks his hips back and forth, setting a now brutal pace that has you both moaning and crying out.

He then ceases his movements momentarily, pulling up slightly, only to push your knees to your chest. The new angle has him reaching impossibly deeper as he begins giving you long, slow strokes. It’s his favorite view. Your tight cunt swallowing him whole. He can barely tear his eyes away.

“Fuck, look at you. Already so drunk on my cock and she's taking me so well.” Now watching your fucked out face. Eyes closed, heard thrown back and mouth slack with moans and expletives spilling out.

His words spur that flame within you, only burning hotter with each drag of his cock along your frontal wall. Your pussy flutters around him.

He lifted up, placing his hand around your throat, picking up his pace once more. Grip growing tighter with every thrust. You expect finger shaped bruises to be blooming in the morning.

The sounds of skin slapping skin along with the moans pulled from you and the grunts from Eddie fill the back of the van. You were getting close as your cunt pulsed around his thick, fat cock.

“I can feel her baby, she's getting tighter. You need to cum huh? Tell me who's pussy this is. And I’ll let you cum.”

He loosened his grip so you could speak.

You gasped as the newly found air entered your lungs, “It's yours Eddie, she's all yours.”

“That's… fucking… right.” Punctuating each word with a thrust. He moved his deft fingers down your body, resting for a moment on your mound, before his thumb began rubbing harsh circles to your clit.

“I know you're close. Cum with me baby.”

It only took a few more thrusts, with his thumb never ceasing its movements, you were coming undone. Your pussy clamped down around him with such a force it almost pushed him out.

“Oh fuck, Eddie!” You cried out as your orgasm hit with a blinding force. Your toes curled, as your whole body felt like a livewire.

“Goddamn, baby. You're strangling me.” He hissed out.

He regained his composure, pounding into you, chasing his own high. A few more sloppy pumps and he was spilling into you, thick ropes of his release filling you to the brim.

“Fuck baby.” He kissed your forehead as you caught your breath.

“Fuck, Eds.” You giggled.

He pulled his softening cock from you, watching as some of his spend leaked from you.

“What a beautiful site,” he whispered, moving out of your space to retrieve your underwear, sliding them back up your legs to keep the mess contained then leaning down to place a kiss on your mound. Such a tender gesture.

“Sorry, I don't have anything to clean you up baby.” Kissing your knee as you bent up to retrieve your clothes.

“It's ok Eds, we'll shower when we get home.” You cupped his cheek as he nuzzled into your palm briefly. You both dressed and got back into the front seats.

He headed home at a leisurely pace, both content to ride in the peace and quiet of the night.

You watched the streetlights pass, growing more frequent the closer you got into town.

You'd only passed one other vehicle on the way back in. Hawkins was on edge, houses shut tight and barely any lights to be seen. It was eerie to say the least. All hoping this was a single incident, but a killer was still on the loose.

He slowed at a stop sign, before making the turn back to your house and in the distance, you saw the glow of cruiser lights.

“Oh great, what now?” He huffed. Your attention already trained ahead.

“I don't know, but I've got a really bad feeling.”

He slowly rolled past the scene. Two cruisers and the medical examiners van were parked out front of one of the newer homes on Elm Street.

“Doesn’t Chase Owen live there?” You asked.

“How the hell should I know baby, haven’t heard from that asshat since high school.”

There was a deputy stationed out front, he waved the van through. Trying to quickly get rid of any rubberneckers that dared to pass by.

You caught his eyes, Steve, looking at you with this unreadable expression as he quickly looked away.

You would come to realize Jason and Chrissy were just the warmup.

Soon, the body count would rise, and it was going to get messy.

@barbedwirebats I know you wanted to be tagged!

[angronsjewelbeetle]

I've only been in this fandom since January and only started writing for it in the last 2 months or so, so I'm always worried I've got the boys ooc or my writing style doesn't match the vibe 💀. Hearing that a more experienced writer actually enjoys my blabbing makes me really emotional and definitely encourages me to write more!

This one's for the men in my audience. (It might end up being gn in the end, but I have a male reader in mind at the moment!) (Update: It's gn!) I have Angron on the mind, thank @angronsjewelbeetle and @kit-williams for that! Post nails AU.

Summary: You and Angron spend the first night together after the Nails are removed.

Content Warnings: Slight implication of sex,

Image Credit: @squishyowl

The bed was just large enough to fit him, which meant that it was far too large for you. You weren't complaining. It was largely for Angron, who was maybe twice your size. He was sitting at the side of the bed, clad in only a pair of cloth pants, looking down at you. The bandages were still wrapped around his head, obscuring rough scars from recent events. He regarded you with a soft expression, tears welling up in his eyes.

"Why don't you lay down?" you asked, scooting over in the bed.

He grunted, and shifted over onto the bed. The bed was mostly for you despite its size, but sometimes he would crawl in and cuddle with you, if you didn't go further. In the past, the metal made it so that your cuddle sessions wouldn't be long, and even then you felt bad about the grinding pain in his head. But maybe it would be different now.

He lay next to you, facing you. Your faces were inches apart. His garnet-red eyes were half closed, full of wonder and love. He slid a hand over your side, touching you as if he were touching you for the first time. He may as well have been.

"How are you feeling?" you asked, your voice low and gentle.

"I..." he started, looking away for a second to gather his words. "It doesn't hurt."

You chuckled a little bit, your hands trailing to the sides of his face. They were almost laughably small against him. You ran your fingers along his scars, rough in your hands. He recoiled before steadying himself. His eyes widened and his mouth hung agape a little bit. You could feel him tense up in your hands.

"Don't worry," you said softly. "The Nails are gone. You're safe now."

He uttered your name, careful with it. You tensed up as you heard it, your hands freezing in place.

"Oh, uh... is this okay, darling?" you asked. You felt blood rush to your face.

In the dim light, you saw his eyes glisten. You felt him relax. "It feels nice," he rumbled, his hand light against you. He leaned into your touch, slightly nuzzling your hand. He looked at you with reverence, focusing on your lips.

You chuckled, your lips spreading into a wide smile. You relaxed against him before you pressed a light kiss to his forehead. The bandages tickled your nose where they slightly distended from his skin. He sniffed. His hand left your waist to grab a tissue before he turned over and cast it in the bin.

You knew what to do. "Oh, oh!" you exclaimed. "Keep facing that way. Please," you said.

"Why?" Angron asked, his voice slightly muffled.

You wrapped your arms and legs around him, burying your head into the nape of his neck. His skin was rough against yours, bearing the scars of his share of battles fought. You brushed your lips against him, and he shivered against you. You ran your hand along his chest. He said your name again, his voice rumbling gently.

"Angron..." you replied, your voice muffled against his back. You pressed a kiss to his shoulder, and he shuddered. Your eyelids drooped, and your breathing was slow and warm against the back of his neck. You began to drift out of consciousness, but not before you heard the familiar soft snore of the man that you loved. You smiled as you begin to fade away. It was going to be a long road to recovery, but you were ready to face it with him.

[joels-shitty-puns]

The Key To Your Heart - Track 7

Pairing: Pedro Pascal x Musician!Reader

Series Summary: After writing your feelings for Pedro into a song, it gains a lot more popularity than expected. Ultimately it brings both criticism and support, with new possibilities around the corner.

Series Warnings: 18+ only (MDNI). Fat shaming, name calling, kissing, angst. Mentions of food, weight loss, weight gain, dieting, weighing, potential eating disorder, food guilt. Potential for puns/dad jokes (name of my blog, and the fic) should give that away. This is my first fic which should be its own warning, lol. Also some cursing. Mentions of masturbation (f) maybe more smut later idk. Sadness, reader is pretty depressed. Poor body image. Rude people. Bullying-ish and just lack of support? Anxiety. Age gap! Reader is in her mid 20's, Pedro is current age (48).

Other stuff: Reader is plus sized. AFAB. Inexperienced. Also has a dog, but you can pretend it is another creature probably. Further, in case it isn't clear, italics almost always are the reader's inner thoughts!

Word Count: 6.6K!!!

Series List: Here!

Miss last chapter? Here!

Hi guys! I'm so sorry this took a little extra longer than usual. I've had a lot of ideas for this chapter for a long time and I struggled with putting it all on paper. I'm also on vacation 🤪 but I really wanted to get this one out there, especially before Halloween. Also I'm sorry if the spacing and stuff is crap, I did this from my phone/iPad while falling asleep at 3:30 AM. Hope you enjoy! Thanks for reading!

__________

You awoke with a start, your alarms blaring through the bedroom. Giving the snooze button a smack, you reach across your mattress, touching the sheets to find the other side of your bed empty.

It was still warm, but missing the actual body that you fell asleep cuddled next to. Blinking your eyes a few times, you called out into the bedroom. "Baby?"

You climbed out of bed, making your way down the hall to the living room, where you finally saw him on the couch. Sound asleep, eyes gently closed, a soft snore passed from his mouth. At the sound of your footsteps, he opened his eyes, giving a big stretch and wagging his tail.

"Good morning Skippy, my little sunshine! I missed your cuddles this morning. Why'd you move to the couch?"

He looked at you and yawned, his eyes closing once again. You giggled and headed for the shower to get ready for another day. Some of us have to actually work and get stuff done in this house!

_____

The day at work was busy, leaving little time to chat with Pedro. You couldn't help but smirk to yourself as your coworkers buzzed about your new album freshly released the day before. They still hadn't figured it out, but you decided you would continue to let it be your little secret a bit longer. They didn't need to know. Just you and Pedro could share this for now.

On your lunch break, you finally opened your phone to find a few text messages from him. "Good morning! I had fun video chatting with you last night. I'm so glad we listened to your album together, and it was nice to finally get to see you." His message made your heart skip.

Second text from Pedro: "Hey, I hope work is going well for you. I was thinking, maybe if you'd like, we could chat again later? If you don't want to video chat anymore, no pressure, but I enjoyed it and thought maybe if you wanted to, we could."

You replied. "Hey P! It's been a crazy day :) but a good one. Especially waking up happy after enjoying a lovely evening. I would really love to video chat with you again too."

Pedro breathed a sigh of relief at your answer. He couldn't help but feel nervous to ask you, despite having just video chatted last night, and he also didn't want to make you feel pressured; especially with someone as private as you are. But with your response, he smiled as he felt his stomach fill with butterflies at the thought of seeing you again.

_____

Later on, after work, the two of you were texting and deciding on the time to video chat again. However, before you called, Pedro texted you again. "Hey, I had a question for you, but I didn't want to ask it over the phone or video call and make you feel pressured. But, there's this Hollywood Halloween party coming up in a few days. I know you still want to keep your identity, but I thought if you'd like to, each guest is allowed to bring a date, and I thought you could mingle a little with some other musicians and actors. I can just tell people you're one of my friends from a set if you don't want to give your real name. You don't need to tell them anything you don't want out to the public. Plus I would love to spend some time together in person too, if you want to. I know it's a lot, so if you would rather not go, I understand. But I'd love to meet you."

The idea of going to a party filled with other celebrities, AND Pedro, had you filled with mixed emotions. Nervous. Excited. Terrified. Love-sick. Hesitant.

After a bit of thinking,you decided, and the answer seemed obvious from the start. The party sounded terrifying, and was completely unknown territory. But you also knew that if you didn't go, you'd surely kick yourself and regret this chance forever.

Finally you replied. "Okay! I'll go. I'd love to spend time with you, too, Pedro. Thank you for inviting me."

He replied again: "Really?! So, will boo be my date? 👻"

You: "That was a little too.. (candy) corny. I may have to ghost you. 🎃"

Pedro didn't miss a beat. "Okay, you're driving me batty. 🦇 Want to call and talk about our costumes?"

Oh shit, I forgot about costumes.

The two of you chatted, easily falling into the comfortable conversations you always do. Fitting together like two peas in a pod. Even though neither of you were dressed up fancy anymore, it didn't feel like you had to be someone else, or dress up. Things were comfortable. Easy.

Pedro suggested a matching costume, which made you want to scream and pace through your living room. Unfortunately, due to your camera situation, pacing and screaming would surely cause some alarm. After dancing around things like pirates, ketchup/mustard, and movie characters, you finally had an idea and suggested Cinderella and her prince.

"It just feels kinda fitting you know? Nobody knows who I am, but I go out for once, I meet this prince, and he lets me have this fun night. But then at the end of the night, everything goes back to normal, and I'm unknown again."

Until he eventually can't stay away and they both fall in love and live happily ever after… but that's neither here nor there. Totally not my intention.. pffft…

"That sounds like a wonderful idea. Should I send a carriage?" He joked with a wink, but you could tell he was a little bit serious. You couldn't help but feel like he would have reserved a carriage ride in a heartbeat had you said yes.

"Absolutely not. Way too big of a scene," you laughed. "In fact, I actually have work that day. Would it be possible for me to just meet you there after I get off work? I can just take an Uber across town. My work isn't too far from the party and I'm sure parking will be a mess."

Pedro agreed, although he felt bad you'd be taking a ride-share service alone and continued to offer a ride if you needed. He also felt a bit disappointed he wouldn't get to have any time alone with you beforehand, but he wasn't about to tell you that detail.

Either way, the two of you agreed on your plans, and as the days led up to the party, you grew more and more eager. You also felt more and more dread in the pit of your stomach.

But this will be good. It has to be. Right?

_____

The night of the party came quickly.

You got off work, took a quick shower, changed into your costume, did your hair, and added a little bit of makeup. The costume felt silly, but you kept telling yourself it was Halloween and everyone would be in costumes. Plus, you have a handsome prince waiting for you inside. As your mind and heart raced, the Uber driver pulled up to the curb, dropped you off, and you were met with a line to the entrance.

The line to the party was lengthy, filled mostly with eager fans, paparazzi, and journalists hoping to gain entry. Occasionally you'd see a celebrity pass by, but they were quickly ushered in once they were recognized.

You, however, were unknown by all. So you stood in line, surrounded by others who hoped desperately to meet their favorite celebrity. Not unlike yourself.

Having finally made it, you sent a quick text to Pedro. "Hey! I'm here :) sorry I'm late."

Your stomach twisted in knots. Sure, you were excited to meet Pedro. Especially with as much as the two of you have been talking over the past couple months now-

Geez, has it really been months?

But despite your connection, you still had that nagging self-conscious worry that he might not like you. Maybe he's just been talking with you to be nice, and the second you're together in person he won't give you the time of day. Maybe he will find you boring in real life. Maybe he will think you're ugly. Or weird. Or fat. Or -

"Next!" The bouncer at the door yelled after sending yet another hopeful fan away. Your stomach dropped and your mouth was dry.

"Hi, I-"

"NAME?" He barked, clearly done with this whole event.

"Well, actu-"

"Speak up princess, I can't hear ya when ya mumblin," the man said with a thick New York accent.

You cleared your throat. "Actually my name isn't on the list, I'm a guest of Pedro Pascal."

The man, towering over you, let out a bellowing laugh. "YEAH, I'm sure ya are, toots. You and every other woman in this joint."

"But I-"

"And trust me, I've turned away much prettier broads than the likes a' you at this doorway," he said while looking you up and down with an amused look as if he had just told the punchline at a comedy club.

Your heart sank. You always said things like that to yourself on the inside, but it wasn't often that people were that blunt to your face.

The man sneered while smacking his gum and arrogantly moving it to the other side of his mouth with his tongue. That gum. You wanted to punch him if you had to hear him smack it one more time.

"Back a' the line, kid. Y'ain't gettin' in here tonight, but I appreciate the self-confidence," he said, laughing at his own joke.

Disheartened, you didn't even care about meeting Pedro anymore. Your mood was dampened, your ego was hurt, and all you wanted to do was go home, get out of this stupid costume, and cry on your couch. With a short nod, you bit your lip to choke down the tears, turned, and headed towards the exit.

"Hey!!! There you are- wait where are you going?"

You'd recognize that voice anywhere. Pedro.

You turned around, swallowing down your emotions and putting on a fake smile, despite the wave of hurt and anxiety pooling in your stomach and chest. "Hey, Pedro! You found me."

Pedro smiled at the guard and snuck past, telling him "hey, she's with me." Fans in line squealed, which he greeted with a kind wave and charming smile. At last, he reached you and gestured for the two of you to head inside to the party. You gave a nod and a small, half-hearted smile.

You didn't want him to know how upset you were. Not only did you feel pathetic and slightly agree with the bouncer, but you also didn't want to ruin Pedro's night.

As the two of you entered the crowded party, you looked around at the decorations. Filled with purple and green lighting, the Halloween music blared and monsters danced the night away. A bowl of green punch sat on a table to the side, surrounded by bowls of candy and platters of snacks. An open bar was on the back wall, providing both normal booze, and Halloween themed drinks topped with gummy worms or syrup made to look like blood. To the right of the bar was a door to the large rooftop balcony which held tall, dark-green potted hedges, perfectly trimmed and shaped underneath rows of charming fairy lights. Beyond the shrubbery, the deck had several nice patio tables and chairs, a few people catching their breath outside or chatting, and a gorgeous view of the city below with the sparkling sky above.

Back inside and off to the right of the patio door, away from the dance floor, was a door which you assumed was the restroom, based on the long line of women.

"I'd like you to meet some people, if you feel up to it," Pedro yelled to be heard over the booming music from the dj.

"Okay!" You yelled back.

He led you over to a couple of people off to the side of the dance floor, one you recognized as his friend Sarah Paulson, who was dressed in a shimmery witch costume.

Pedro introduced the two of you. Sarah was very sweet, and while you talked music and acting, Pedro touched your shoulder and spoke into your ear to avoid yelling. "I'm going to grab a drink, can I get you anything?"

"I'll just take a soda, thanks!" Although some alcohol might help your nerves, you wanted to maintain a clear head and maybe not do or say something to Pedro that you might regret.

"You got it," he replied, turning on his heel towards the bar.

Once he had left, Sarah gave you a look.

"What?" you laughed.

"You know, he talks about you all the time. I know you already love some other guy based on that hit song of yours, but I gotta say I think he might be smitten with you."

"Oh please, no he isn't. We're just friends!" You smiled at the idea, but inside, you kept hearing the bouncer's words on repeat. There's no way Pedro could have feelings for you. Even if you wanted him to have those feelings more than anything, it couldn't be.

"Whatever you say," she said with a smirk.

A pause before she added "just… don't hurt him. I know you love someone else, but he's a good guy," she pleaded, letting her protective side show.

On his way back from the bar, Pedro ran into Oscar, whom he tagged up with and headed back to your small group. "This is my friend Oscar," said Pedro, introducing you to Oscar as his friend.

Friend. Remember that. Friend. That's all. All you'll ever be.

"Nice to meet you Oscar!" You gave him a cherry smile.

"Nice to finally meet the woman of the hour! Pedro here just won't shut up about you," he said with a smirk, looking at Pedro mischievously. Pedro blushed and looked into his drink cup, taking a sip while trying to hide himself.

"Yep! It's always 'she said this, she said that, can you believe she can do that? She's so smart, funny, sweet…' yada yada yada," he said, smirking again and taking a side glance at Pedro, who choked on his soda. "Shut. Up. Oscar." He quietly threatened through clenched teeth. But despite his quiet tone and a loud party, you heard him.

I mean, I say kind things about my friends that way sometimes. It's nice he's so appreciative of his friends. Because that's what I am. A friend.

Sarah chimes in. "That's what I was telling her! But she claims they're just friends," she air-quotes around the words 'just friends.'

Pedro's heart sank. He knew deep down that's all you were to him, but hearing it second-hand from you still hurt. Just friends… he thought.

"Yeah right," Oscar rolled his eyes, talking to Sarah as if the two of you weren't standing literally right next to them.

"Believe what you want Oscar, but it's true," Pedro answered with a shrug.

Now it was your turn to feel heartbroken. Just friends… you thought.

You cleared your throat, "anyway, I'm going to go get another soda. Can I get anyone anything?" They all answered no, and you headed for the bar.

Deep in your thoughts, you walked over to the bar when a woman slammed into you. She spilled her red, bloody Halloween cocktail drink all down the front of your costume. "Watch where you're going, fat bitch," said the woman, appropriately dressed in a devil costume, her skin-tight red dress barely covering her ass and breasts.

You sighed. At this point you decided to skip the refill and head toward the bathroom to clean up your now wet front. You looked back to see the devil herself headed right towards Pedro's direction. Typical, you thought with an eye roll. She wants him and is mad I was talking to him.

You turned away from that scene and reached the line to the bathroom. It was lengthy, but luckily it was moving fast. Once inside, you finally could let your emotions out a little bit. You wanted to put on a brave face for Pedro and not ruin his evening, but ever since the bouncer made his comments, you couldn't get them out of your head. And now with that woman spilling her drink on you, you had another reason to be upset. You felt undeserving to be here to begin with, and their comments really solidified the imposter syndrome.

Despite wanting so desperately to see Pedro in the flesh, you hadn't even been able to really make eye contact all evening. Your nerves about meeting him were still there, but now you were just upset about the whole night. Even though you wanted to look at him, really see him, you felt like you didn't deserve it; and your nerves warned you not to look or else he'd figure you out.

If he realizes I like him, it's game over. It'll be like that guy I liked before. He'll eventually say it's weird. Weird for me to have a crush on him, weird for me to touch him, weird for the two of us to talk about relationships or sex. It's 'weird' with you.

You really started to hate that word; weird.

Perhaps you were destined to be a single hermit forever. Or maybe just become a nun.

Cleaned up and having let enough tears out for a couple more hours, at least until you could go home and really cry, you walked out of the bathroom. Heading back toward Pedro, you saw a tall, thin, beautiful woman wearing a tight black dress with a slit down the thigh and skeleton makeup on her face.

The woman was standing close to Pedro when you saw her touch his bicep. Slowly running her hand down his forearm, she batted her eyelashes and twirled her hair with her other hand. She said something to him you couldn't hear, but the two of them began to smile, Pedro's eyes growing wide with his grin. He said something to her and they both laughed, him throwing his upper half forward in a classic Pedro laugh.

That's it. I can't do it. I can't be here and see this.

Turning on your heel, you made for the patio door. The crisp air hit your face, urging the tears to fall immediately.

_____

Pedro laughed as the woman, Tricia, held up both hands in defense. "I SWEAR, Pedro. That's what she did. She touched my arm like that, twirled her hair, batted her eyelashes, and said "hey baby. Come here often?"

Pedro laughed, "oh man, that's so cheesy."

"I know!" Tricia laughed, holding her stomach.

Pedro raised an eyebrow. "Okay, you agree it's cheesy, yet I feel like every time I've seen you two together tonight, you're the one that can't keep your hands off of her," he stated with a sassy smirk.

"Alright, you caught me," Tricia replied with a laugh, right as her girlfriend Sam walked up in a matching skeleton costume. Sam handed Tricia a cup of purple liquid and asked what they were laughing about.

"I asked how you two got together," Pedro replied with a chuckle.

"Oh, gosh, I can only imagine how she's spun the story this time!" Sam replied with an eye roll and a quick kiss to Tricia's lips. Seeing the two love-birds kiss made Pedro long to experience that with you.

Where did she go? There's no way she's still getting a drink.

He excused himself and headed towards the bar, but you weren't there. Then he walked towards the bathroom to check the line. Nope.

Finally he looked to the left and saw you, leaning against the balcony which overlooked the city.

He pulled the sliding door open, slipping outside into the cool October night. The patio was mostly empty, apart from a few stragglers on the far side of the rooftop, sitting at the patio furniture underneath a heat lamp. Most of the guests had gone inside when the temperature began to dip. He walked towards you, saying your name to gain your attention, but you didn't turn. Too deep in your thoughts.

"Are you okay? What are you doing out here all alone?" He touched your shoulder gently.

Startled, you tried to quietly sniffle and wipe your wet eyes without him noticing, careful to avoid smudging your mascara.

You turned to face him, planting another fake smile on your face. "Yeah I'm fine, just needed some air, that's all. You?"

"I can tell you're not okay. What's wrong?" He frowned, stepping closer to you and eyeing the red stain on your dress. Confusion laced across his face.

You stepped back a half-step away from his touch. "It's nothing, it just seems it isn't my night I guess… but you look like you're having fun. Get back in there and dance with Sarah and Oscar," you said with a gentle smile. "I think I might head out. Skipper is probably wondering where I am, anyway."

"I'm sorry you're not having a good time. Let me at least give you a ride home," he pleaded with his brown eyes. This was the first time all night you had actually made eye contact with him, finally seeing just how handsome he really was in person.

Yeah. There's no way he'd go for me. That's for sure.

"No, no please, you stay, I'll just get an Uber. It's fine! Thank you for inviting me tonight though, Pedro. That was really sweet of you."

"I'm not letting you take an Uber home when I'm right here."

"No, dont. I don't want you to miss the party…" you added.

"I've partied enough tonight. Come on, I'm taking you home. No arguments," he pressed, puppy dog eyes unwavering in his demand.

Seriously this man could get away with murder the way he looks with those eyes.

"Okay. Fine, if you really don't mind," you finally agreed, not that it was even an option.

He gave a quick explanation to his friends with a brief wave before the two of you headed out the front door. You scowled at the guard as you walked past.

Thanks for ruining my night, asshole.

After receiving his car from the valet, Pedro pulled open the passenger door for you, gesturing for you to climb inside.

Nobody has ever opened the car door for me before, other than my dad.

What a gentleman...

Just because you were upset didn't mean you weren't zapped with a feeling of adrenaline and love at his chivalrous action. Whoever ends up with him is a lucky person.

You climbed in the passenger seat and he went around the car, entering the driver's side.

Not only did you feel like you ruined the party, but you worry you may have ruined your shot altogether. Why would Pedro want you after you didn't even talk to him your first night out together?

_____

*Pedro's POV*

As he climbed into his seat, buckling up and starting the ignition, he couldn't help but wonder where the night went wrong.

Did I say something to offend her?

He began to replay all the conversations you'd had tonight, trying to figure out when your sadness began and what could have caused it.

The party conversations? The texts? The phone calls?

Nothing came to mind, which worried him even more that he could be so ignorant to have said something hurtful without realizing.

Pedro looked over at you in his passenger seat. You were curled toward the side, arms scrunched toward your body and looking out the window. Silent. Just the occasional sound of a sniffle, or a road direction for him to take toward your house.

He wanted so badly to reach over and touch you. Hold your hand and rub his thumb over your fingers to comfort you in any way possible while driving. Then, he'd pull you into his arms the second you two got out of the car.

But he knew he couldn't. You weren't his to hold.

Was her crush at the party too? Could he have hurt her somehow?

He felt anger flare into his system at whatever could have made you cry. You deserved the world and he wished he could spend every day trying to prove it to you.

_____

*Back to your perspective*

About 20 minutes later, you quietly said "this is me."

Pedro put the car in park, and told you to wait. Confused, you sat, but he ran around the car and opened the door for you.

What. The. Hell. Is he real?

You stood from the car, fluffing down your ruined princess dress. "Thank you Pedro. You really didn't have to give me a ride, I feel bad you went out of your way. I'm sorry if I ruined your night."

"Hey, whoa, don't apologize. There's no way you ruined my night, and don't worry about the ride. I feel better knowing you made it home safely from me than some taxi service," Pedro placed his hand on his heart.

"Well, thank you either way. It was nice getting to finally meet you in person…"

"It was nice meeting you too," he shifted his weight, awkwardly wondering how to proceed.

"You should go. Get back to your party before you miss anything else! I'm sure Oscar and Sarah miss you," you prompted.

"Oh, I'm not going back. I'll just call it a night and head home. It's not as fun without my date, anyway." He smirked, and you couldn't help but wonder if he was flirting with you. Probably just being nice.

"You aren't going back??"

"Nah, I'm good. But…" he rubbed the back of his neck with his palm.

"What?" You felt nervous.

"Can I ask why you're so upset? You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to. It's just… if I did something or said something to upset you… I'm so sorry," he said, and you could actually feel the genuine sadness in his voice.

"Oh, Pedro. No. You did nothing wrong. It's just," you sighed. "Do you want to come in?"

You worried about asking and seeming too forward, but now that it's out there it can't be taken back.

Friends go over to other friend's houses. It's totally fine and normal.

"I, uh, sure," Pedro stumbled over his words. "I'd love to. If you don't mind." He seemed nervous and a little surprised at your invitation.

You unlocked your door and the two of you entered. Instantly, you were greeted by your boy, who was all too happy to have a new friend. His tail wagged, smacking against nearby surfaces.

Pedro's face lit up instantly, and he crouched down to Skip's level. Letting Skipper get a good sniff, you heard Pedro gently coo to your dog. "Hi buddy!! I'm Pedro. I've heard so much about you." He scratched behind his ears.

Your heart swelled. Here they were, two of your favorite boys, bonding like old friends.

Pedro stood up again, giving a final scratch to Skipper's head before turning to you. "So, do you want to talk about it? What happened tonight?"

You ushered him to the kitchen table, asking him if he would like a drink. "Sure, thanks. Just water, please."

You poured two glasses of water and sat at the table near him, finally delving into the events of the evening. You told him about the bouncer and the woman with her drink. "I also saw that one girl talking to you and being really touchy and flirty and I felt like I was intruding."

I was also really fucking jealous…

"Wait, what girl?"

He repeated the evening's events through his mind. He wasn't flirting or being touchy? Who were you - Oh. Tricia, when she was describing Sam. Were you jealous of her? He allowed his mind to wonder, slightly hopeful that you might want more.

"I guess I just… I don't really feel like I fit in here. I don't look like I fit in here. I don't act like I fit in here. I honestly don't even know why you're as nice to me as you are. I wonder why you want to be my friend. Not that I'm not happy about it, because I am, but-"

He cut off your ramblings. "Whoa, whoa, hey. Sweetheart. You belong here. People just don't know you yet. That bouncer was totally out of line and a complete asshole. That woman, who spilled her drink on you, was rude, offensive, and nasty; and I don't tolerate that kind of behavior. Especially towards those I care about. The second she came over, I could tell she was a snake. I didn't give her the time of day. And lastly, the girl you saw being touchy was my friend Tricia. She was describing how her girlfriend picked her up in a bar," he laughed.

"Oh," you listened to his words, still not making eye contact, looking at your hands on the table.

"And as for you," he prompted, "I'm nice to you because you deserve it. You're sweet and funny, and I'm so thankful to have met you. I talk to you because I like talking to you. I enjoy spending time with you, whether it's on the phone, or, even better, when I get to see your face. Although I have to say I hate to see it crying." He brushed away a tear from your cheek, and you gave a small laugh, wiping the rest of your face.

"Thanks Pedro. I'm sorry if I brought down your night. I just really wanted tonight to be special, and it felt like my carriage turned back into a pumpkin before I even started." You gave another defeated laugh.

"You didn't ruin my night. If anything I'm just disappointed you didn't say anything, so I could help cheer you up or we could go do something else." He paused, brushing your hair from your eyes. "By the way, I never did get to tell you how beautiful you look in that dress, princesa."

Your cheeks heated under his gaze. "T-thanks Pedro. You look pretty handsome there, yourself," you answered nervously. It was the first time you had truly looked at him all night, and he was more beautiful than you ever could have imagined. Even pictures didn't do him justice. Dressed in a white suit with golden epaulets and golden buttons on the jacket, he was the most charming prince you'd ever seen.

Pedro rubbed his neck. "Thank you." He smiled. "But, hey, just because the night didn't go your way doesn't mean we can't turn it around."

You smirked. "That's true. Do you wanna watch a movie or something? Because if so, I think I might change out of this costume real quick," you began to stand.

"Whoa, not so fast princesa," he grabbed your arm.

You turned and gave him a confused look.

"Not before I share a dance with you in that dress. I've been waiting all night," he held out his hand.

"Really?" The grin on your face lit up, and you pulled him towards your music room where you stored your records.

"Wow. This is amazing. You have so many records and instruments in here! Is this where you write your music, too?"

"Yep! Here's where the magic happens," you answered with a laugh, pulling out an old record filled with slow love songs of the 50's and 60's. You placed the needle on the record, hearing a soft crackle as it began to play.

Pedro pulled you into his chest, grabbing your right hand with his left and gently placing his right hand on your waist. You slid your left hand up to his shoulder and smiled up at him as the two of you gently swayed to the music.

One song turned into two. Then three, and finally four; the two of you holding each other, silent except for the soft music turning from your record player on the desk. At some point you took the risk and decided to rest your face on his chest while the two of you swayed. His head rested on top of yours, both of you breathing softly, eyes closed, with you listening to the rhythmic drumming of his heart in his chest.

The record crackled with the end of the first side and the two of you looked at each other. You didn't miss the quick glance he stole from your eyes down to your lips, and you began to slowly lean closer.

Is this it?! Am I finally going to have my first kiss?!

You continued leaning closer, both his and your eyes gently closing. You could feel his breath fanning across your nose when-

Clunk clunk clunk. Pant pant. Whine.

You and Pedro opened your eyes, confusion painting your expressions as you turned your faces away from each other towards the sound. Still held in each other's arms, you peeled your eyes away from each other to see Skipper looking at you both with a big doggy grin on his face. His tail smacked the table with a thump thump, and he let out soft little whines and coos for attention.

The two of you laughed, the moment over, as you both kneeled down to give pets while Skip wedged between the two of you. Although you were disappointed the kiss was interrupted, you can't be mad at such a cute face. Still scratching your dog, you looked across to Pedro on the other side of Skipper. The two of you shared a soft look and smile, filled with so many unsaid words and feelings.

"So, uh.. how about that movie?" Pedro asked, still smiling.

______

You changed out of your princess costume into a comfier movie watching outfit and he changed out of his prince costume. He had some clothes in his car, which he changed into, looking handsome as ever. He wore a navy blue sweater with jeans, both fitting him perfectly. The two of you settled on your couch and turned on a movie. Although you sat next to each other, you kept a friendly distance, neither of you wanting to push the other too far.

As the movie rolled on, you had a hard time focusing on the plot with him so close. He looked so cozy and soft, you just wanted to climb in his lap. You wanted him to hold your hand. You wanted to finish that kiss. He smelled nice, he looked nice, and you wanted him more than anything else in this world.

Without realizing it, you gravitated closer. Your body inched toward him, and without him realizing it, he inched closer as well. It wasn't long until your leg was brushed against his. Just the slight touch of his leg on yours was enough to send an electric feeling pulsing through your body. The tension was as tight as an electrical cable, slowly fraying until it eventually snaps into sparks.

Pedro's fingers twitched at his side, his jaw clenching and unclenching. Your eyes kept sneakily darting over to him, his doing the same at opposite times. Your hearts were racing, breathing quick and shallow. The movie finally ended, neither of you able to tell someone the storyline if asked.

You nervously turned towards Pedro, rubbing the back of your neck. "So that was some movie…"

"Yeah, that ending… it was-" his eyes darted to your lips. "Something." He looked into your eyes, hand settling on your thigh as the two of you once again began to lean in closer. You had just shut your eyes, noses brushing together, when he pulled away.

What the heeeeeeeellllll??? Whyyyy!?

You couldn't help but let out a whimper as you opened your eyes after the second failed kiss of the evening.

Pedro sat with his elbows on his lap, holding his face in his hands. "I'm so sorry…"

"What? Pedro? Why are you sorry? What's wrong? Did I - did I do something wrong?"

Do I smell bad? Does he not like me? Was this some sick joke?

"I don't know what I'm doing. I'm sorry. I let my feelings get in the way, and I shouldn't have done that. You're in love with someone else. I can't steal your first kiss. You deserve to have it with the man you really love."

"Pedro-" you tried to pry his hand from his face.

"No. I'm sorry if I ruined things. I should probably leave-" he began to stand up, but you grabbed his forearm and pulled him back down.

"Stop. Pedro," you begged.

He sat back down, looking into your eyes guiltily.

You continued. "Please don't apologize. I wanted you to kiss me…"

"But that guy in your song. You deserve to be with him. I've been letting my feelings take over and stealing all your time away on the phone and text, video chat, and now in person. I almost stole your first kiss from you twice tonight and-" he rambled on, once again throwing his hands over his face before you interrupted him again.

"Pedro.." you pulled his hand away from his face, leaving yours to hold his cheek instead, but he still avoided your eyes. Taking a deep breath, you figured it was time to take the plunge.

"It's you, Pedro."

His eyes glanced up to yours. "What?"

"It's you. It's always been you. You're the one I like."

"Wait, so you mean-"

"Yes. The songs, the interviews, our chats… I've been talking about you this whole time. I really, really, like you."

Pedro gave a gentle smile, leaning his face into your hand. "I like you too, baby," he whispered.

His hand moved from his cheek to yours and the two of you leaned in. Closing your eyes, you brushed your noses together before you whispered "please kiss me.

You could feel a soft smile as he pressed his lips to yours, first gentle and soft, then stronger and more desperate. Although the kiss was still very tame, you could both feel all the emotions you've been harboring for each other for so long.

Breathless, the two of you pulled back, falling into a gentle laughter. "You don't know how long I've been waiting for that kiss," you spoke softly, wanting to keep the words as quiet as possible, heard only within the tiny bubble you currently shared.

"Me too," he smiled, pressing another kiss to your lips.

"I think you were worth the wait," you pecked his lips.

"I think you were too," he rested his head on your forehead with his hand on your neck, lightly stroking over your hair.

"I like you." You giggled.

"I like you too." He grinned. "But, you know, if I remember correctly, 'like' wasn't the word you used in your song…" he teased.

Your stomach flipped. "I don't want to scare you off too soon, P."

"You won't, sweetheart. You couldn't if you tried. I feel the same way." He kissed your forehead.

You looked at him, and feeling slightly nervous, yet calmed by his deep brown eyes, you told him those important words that have been spilling from your chest in silence.

"I love you Pedro."

"I love you too," he grabbed your face, once again pressing a kiss to your lips, this one much deeper than the others, before pulling you into his arms. The two of you were finally together. Finally you had love. All the things you wanted were coming true.

Turns out you got your happily ever after tonight after all.

__________

To be continued...

That's all for now! I hope you liked this chapter. I've received a lot of kind messages and DMs saying how much you guys relate to the reader and I just want to say thank you. It really means a lot to me that people are finding something to relate to. I'm essentially just using this fic as my diary, because she is pretty much just me. So to see others feeling the same way, it makes my heart so full! I send hugs to all of you.

Next Chapter! Here!

Taglist: (Want in? Let me know!) If I forget to add anyone, I'm sorry!

@pedrotonin @starcrossed02 @lightupsketchersperson @cartoon-garbage04 @tyferbebe @maryfanson @gwendibley84 @faithfullyyours2000 @brilliantopposite187 @hc-geralt-23 @jenniferpendragon @winchestergypsy90 @red-red-rogue @theendwhereibegin @lottieellz101 @oliversaurus @kyga01 @milly-louise @titabel @taz-97 @stefanibear003 @marantha @fandomoniumflurry @ilovemybrown-eyedbabygirl

[fqrcefields]

checkmate!

chapter two <3

summary _ , april finally puts jennifer's phone number to use.

⋆ tags : smut! ⭑ࣶࣸ 

read on ao3.

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April hasn’t been able to stop thinking about her all week.

She hasn’t even finished a full chapter of her book, the business card still tucked between pages as a makeshift bookmark causing a flood of images to dominate April’s mind, distracting her entirely from the work of fiction. Along with said distraction, she is graced by the most embarrassing of blushes on a face that never does so, drawing too much attention to herself, forcing her to retreat to the bathroom to regain composure. No, she does not read the book. Yet it is seemingly surgically attached to her now, not allowing the enclosed phone number to travel any more than an inch from her fingertips at a time.

Her coworkers’ hate-fueled focus on Jennifer certainly is not helping. Everywhere April turns, there’s a video playing of Jen on another early-morning talk show, a picture of her face in the paper, with that big, toothy grin that makes April’s heart swell. To say it’s been difficult for April to fit in with this group of people so vehemently anti-Jennifer Barkley is an understatement. Though she’s never been one to share her emotions very publicly, even the smallest mention of Jen has April smiling like an idiot. Luckily, everyone around her is so consumed by their own want to win that they ignore the way April fades into the background.

It takes a full week of hopeful pining for April to muster up the confidence to finally text her.

It’s far too early in the morning, but the entire team had been called to watch Jen and Bobby discuss their campaign on Pawnee Today, and it’s not like April would ever give up the chance to see the woman on whom she harbors such a debilitating crush. She sits in the back of the conference room, nursing the biggest cup of coffee imaginable, hugging her book tight to her chest, which beats twenty times faster than usual. It must be the caffeine that’s given April such the adrenaline rush and enabled her fingers to send off the text message. Caffeine, and a need to see Jen— to smell that divine perfume that probably costs more than April’s entire wardrobe combined— that outweighs all of April’s typical anxiety.

what hotel are you staying at?

She sends first. Then, after a few minutes:

in case i want to murder you in your sleep or something.

Jennifer receives the texts right as she steps out of the soundstage, on the way to her car. It takes her a moment to register who it’s from, the area code far from the 202 she’s grown so used to. When it clicks in her mind, however, an immediate smile rises to her lips. Such a smile, in fact, that her idiot client asks after it, to which Jen simply responds with a bewildered eyebrow raise and a wave of the hand. She has to conceal her wild, cackling laughter until she finds the safety of her car.  

Jen responds once she’s home, not giving in to her own excitement, wanting to force her mouse’s anticipation. She would never want to come off as desperate, even though her fingers (along with every single other ounce of her being) are furious to send a text back. She does, once it’s been a little less than an hour, giving her soon-to-be murderer the name of the hotel. No, not hotel, motel. Because why should Jen have the luxury of a warm shower and more than one pillow? Hopefully her little raven will show up at her door soon enough and save her from shag carpet and thin robes. Though, if April is soon to be the one wearing the robe, Jennifer won’t mind its thinness.

Show up she does, but only once the sun has gone down. It’s after Jen has read through all of her daily newspapers and refreshed Politico nearly a thousand times, leaving her to deal with her own boredom the way anyone outside of D.C. would. She can’t deal with Perd Hapley’s voice anymore and would quite literally rather die than listen to Pawnee public radio. So, when April appears at her door, Jen can’t conceal her relieved smile— as much as she plays it off as being coy.

“I figured you’d be bored of diner food.” April shrugs slightly, trying to hide her own smile behind sarcastic manor and feigned disinterest. She doesn’t want Jennifer to know that she’d driven all the way to Eagleton to pick up the only food within a hundred miles that could scratch the surface of Jennifer’s refined palate, but there’s something within April that’s so eager to please, so restless to hear Jen tell her she’s done something right. Though, there’s also something within her that yearns for the degradation, that so wants to be yelled at in the way that Jen yells at people she finds stupid.

“Good girl,” Jennifer purrs, subtly undoing the top buttons of her blouse as she ushers April into the room. She admires the younger woman’s outfit, for what it’s worth. Though her affinity towards skinny jeans and zipper hoodies is far from Jen’s own style, she finds the tight-fitting clothes entirely intoxicating. Jen takes her sweet time admiring the brunette, her own lower lip captured between teeth so desperate to feel skin that they’re nearly drawing blood. She leans against the end of the bed, simply to observe, to enjoy every tiny, slow movement of her opponent. Though, she can’t be all too calculating, when an absolutely divine smell tickles her nose.

“My God,” she hums, her stomach growling its approval. “I didn’t know this town was capable of good food.” Jen laughs, stepping forward to join April at the small motel desk. “Color me impressed.” She places a hand on the younger woman’s lower back, middle fingers sneakily looping through the belt loop of the black jeans, grip firm on the denim beneath. This elicits the smallest gasp from April, which she attempts to cover up with words that never fully form. She’s lost all of her typical off-putting charisma now, merely left an unthinking form of flesh that begs to be molded by Jennifer.

“It isn’t,” April finally musters, and leaves it at that. If she’s going to be so incredibly vulnerable around this woman, she’ll try her best to protect the very last bit of mystery she can conjure. Jennifer appreciates this, finds it impossibly charming, a challenge that she’s insatiably hungry for after so many hours spent on the least challenging campaign of her life.

Once they’ve plated themselves what is, to Jen at least, a meal equivalent to Jesus’ last supper, Jennifer takes a seat at the desk’s rolling chair, looks up to April with her proudest smirk.

“Only one chair.” She pouts, legs spreading a little as she gets as comfortable as possible in the degrading pleather. Jennifer stares at April with all of her might, daring the girl to stare back, to enter this arena of eye contact, but April is unable. Despite her usual menacing Kubrick stare, the moment she comes into proximity with Jennifer Barkley, April completely falls apart at the seams. It’s not something she’s ever experienced, but April is so impossibly intimidated by Jennifer, so incredibly turned on by the woman’s tempting smirk, that she barely even feels like herself anymore. It's as if her brain has been invaded, taken over, melded into something of Jennifer’s control.

April’s eyes migrate down, forcing themselves out of the magnetic pull of Jennifer’s own, looking toward the floor as is her preferred avoidant posture. Though, as she looks down to the floor, she is interrupted by a hand that moves ever so slightly against grey material. A movement so brief yet so very taunting, as if beckoning April to it. Her eyes flick back up to Jennifer’s once more, note the way her pupils have expanded, the way she pensively chews on her lip, the tautness of her lifted brows. Everything about Jennifer oozes confidence, but more so now than her usual talk show pretension. Now, she’s undone. Hair messy, shirt so unbuttoned that April can see the lace border of her bra. She’s illuminated by a single yellow lamp, not the hundreds of fluorescents that April is used to seeing her under. Jennifer is domestic now, human, no longer the Washington robot from the news. She is warm flesh and blood, and it’s entirely impossible for April to keep her hands away from that very warmth.

April has never known herself to be the initiator, so she finds it hard to comprehend what it is that takes over her as she straddles herself over Jennifer’s thighs and plunges her lips onto the brunette’s. It must simply be the pent-up need, the seven days she’s spent doing truly nothing other than thinking about Jennifer, fantasizing about her, praying that she might walk in through the office doors again. It is that desperation that finds April tugging on the woman’s string of pearls, kissing her so very deeply that they nearly spill out of the small chair.

April lights up with the vibration of Jennifer’s chuckle— which either comes from amusement or pure pleasure over April’s forwardness— but she is far too intoxicated by Jennifer’s perfume to even pay the short laughter any mind. Her already swimming mind is only further done in by the patchouli and bergamot that still lingers on Jennifer’s collar even the end of the day, so strong that she feels drugged, her mind’s only real thought being the one that keeps her kissing Jennifer. She kisses the older woman with such fervor that it takes all of the breath from her lungs, her eyes gone fuzzy when she eventually pulls back for air. When April realizes her own action, sees Jennifer leaned back, signature smirk of Chanel Rouge now smudged, she can’t help but apologize. She’s never wanted anything so much so that she’s taken action to get it, so she finds herself simply shocked, amazed, power hungry, yet entirely apologetic, nervous from her own wanting.

Jennifer’s own chest has begun to buzz. She had entirely expected that their chess game would take hours— that’s how long Jennifer would employ her teasing. She was ready to watch April’s walls crumble over the span of a night, not mere minutes. Yet here Jen sits, her own breath stolen from her, her grip so tight around April’s ass that her knuckles threaten to turn white. Everything within her wants to joke, to tease, to make that little pout on April’s lips remain for as long as possible, but there’s a teeny, tiny little piece of Jen that just fucking wants to kiss this girl already.

“Bed,” she says sharply, her chest still heaving a bit to fully catch up. Jennifer grins as April does just as she’s said, and though she is not too far behind, Jennifer takes a moment just so that April knows exactly who is in control of the board. Once she hears that awful squeak of the mattress, knows that April has found herself laying in the highest thread count available in Pawnee, Jennifer stands. Though it pains her to turn her back to their spread of food, her stomach growing furious at her for the betrayal, Jennifer dares not sully this moment with such a feeble need as hunger.

The vision of April laying on the bed, pupils blown out and bangs already sticking to her forehead from the lack of central air in this room, is enough to bring Jennifer to her knees. Well, not exactly to her knees. But it’s enough for her to speed up her steps, to land on the bed above April, to press a taunting kiss to her lips before pulling back, not allowing the younger woman any more than that. At least, at first. Jennifer hovers over April, hands dipping under the thin fabric of thrifted long-sleeve, holding her so tenderly. She feels so differently for April than she does the others she’s been with. In D.C., it is merely sex. Something that she is very good at, yes, but for the most part, something to be tossed aside once it is done. This is not at all to imply that Jennifer does not enjoy random hook-ups in club bathrooms, but it is to say that she has not felt a real affection for someone in the way that she feels for April. There is an innocence behind those huge, dark eyes that Jennifer just wants to nurture, something in the teasing attitude that Jennifer never wants to be far from.

April attempts to lift herself, to kiss Jennifer, to finally release the tension that has been building between them for far too long, but she is met by a hand on her cheek, pinning head to pillow. Jennifer is not yet ready— she wants to appreciate this for the time it will take, does not want it to become yet another body in her count. The older woman cannot help the stare with which she holds April, cannot stop her thumb from sliding across her cheek until it eventually lands in April’s mouth, who eagerly accepts it atop her tongue. The large eyes staring back, the quiet noises of April’s mouth around Jennifer’s finger— it all proves too much for Jennifer, she cannot waste any more time staring.

The brunette dips her head, and though she misses the warmth of April’s mouth when she removes her thumb, the softness of her lips replacing themselves upon Jennifer’s is apology enough. Jennifer kisses her all too greedily, not giving the younger a second before her tongue darts into the woman’s mouth, her hands lifting to cradle the sides of April’s head so that she does not shift out of the way. Jennifer’s hips begin their instinctual rocking against the scratchy material of April’s jeans, but the pencil skirt hugging her own thighs is far too restrictive for such a move. As she lifts herself to hike said skirt up to her hips, April takes the opportunity to undo the rest of the buttons of her shirt, finally releasing flesh, finally pressing her fingers to the skin beneath the silk. The touch elicits such a reaction from Jennifer that neither expected: a sharp gasp, a plunge back into kissing so feverish that a voyeur would believe these two were reconnecting after years of one being missing. This past week very well could have been a year or more, for the desperation that it has built within both April and Jennifer.

Jennifer’s hands leave April’s face, the nails that were once perfectly manicured, now horribly chipped, running over goosebumps until they land at April’s belt. She undoes the raven-haired girl’s jeans as if her most basic human function— despite having not even spoken to anyone wearing jeans in ten odd years. April’s breathing becomes halted as Jennifer’s hand slips beneath the fabric, toying gently at the fabric of her underwear, lace. As much as she’d like to tease April for it, for purchasing a new set of lingerie just for their little rendezvous, the only thing that escapes Jen’s lips is a groaning ‘fuck’ when she finally notices just how wet the underwear is.

April’s vocabulary has similarly been reduced to only curses, with the occasional ‘Jen— God—’ moaned loudly enough she’s sure to be heard down the hallway. The latter is what sends Jennifer reeling, drunk on the way that her own name sounds coming from April’s lips. She has grown so used to ‘campaign manager Jennifer Barkley’, that to hear such a casual nickname, something so humanizing and domestic, is so incredibly arousing to her.

April’s back begins to arch from the slightest brush of movement against her underwear, her body under touched for far too long. As Jennifer finally pulls April’s jeans around her knees, she presses kisses to her belly, then her thighs— the kisses become significantly rougher here, teeth gently grazing over the plump flesh that they find. April’s hands fling to Jennifer’s hair, the perfectly set coif of curls now falling loose at her shoulders, April’s overwhelmed tugging not doing much for the style’s stability.

It's the harshest of all of April’s tugs that finally has Jennifer pushing the underwear to the side, slipping two fingers into the woman’s cunt. The action forces the loudest of April’s moans, a volume so rarely met by April’s vocal cords, yet in Jen’s presence, becoming all too common. The sweet moans are downright obscene, so very dirty that Jennifer can barely keep her head on her own shoulders. Her kisses to April’s stomach have become sloppy; she’s practically drooling all over the younger woman. Jennifer’s hips have continued their feverish rocking by now, and though April can barely conceive a thought beyond Jennifer’s name, she is just lucid enough to kick up her leg, pressing her thigh firmly into the politician’s clothed cunt. The contact sends white-hot pleasure coursing through Jennifer, but it is more April’s own pleasure which Jennifer seeks. Her free hand holds firm around the girl’s thin hips, holding her off of the bed so that her pumping may hit the perfect spot, may elicit more of those salacious moans from lips that begged to be kissed.

Jennifer greedily returns to said lips, her own grown swollen and over-hydrated from fervent caressing that they sting when April takes them between her teeth. The pain is more than welcome, as is the way that April’s hands force up Jennifer’s shirt, her nails clawing down skin. They are both sure to be covered in purple bruises come morning. Jennifer revels in the very thought that April will have to see Jennifer’s staked claim each time she gets dressed, that she will blush at the very sight of herself in the mirror, will get hot and bothered all over again before the workday has even started.

April has gone nearly breathless, her body tense in Jennifer’s grasp. She would not be surprised if her jocular threat of death were to become real. The way that Jen’s thumb lightly strikes her clit and then recedes, teasing, proving that Jennifer is still the one in control, sends a shiver through April. This sends her body only closer into Jennifer’s arms, who greedily accepts this nearness, for someone who has quite literally pushed away every single person that has attempted so much as a hug. She can feel herself being so corrupted by April, her very nature being distorted, becoming humanized, becoming tender. It sickens Jennifer, but she cannot possibly focus on her own morality when there is such a beautiful woman riding her fingers.

April’s muscles have gone tense, are threatening to cramp from how tightly she holds Jen between her thighs. Jennifer finally relents, allows April the pleasure she’s begun begging for, presses her thumb firmly to April’s clit. What soft groans were once pleading are now simply pathetic from pleasure, all caution for privacy thrown to the wind. Jennifer’s kisses have moved to April’s jaw, sure to leave her territorial markings there, and as her position allows, she whispers soft, teasing degradations about just how naughty the rest of the motel’s occupants must find her. Everyone will know how good I make you feel, she reminds the raven countless times, her laughter dark against April’s ear, her tongue sliding along sharp jaw.

April’s fingers nearly rip Jennifer’s shirt when the pleasure in her stomach finally builds up so much that she cannot take it anymore. She grips onto the silk as if for dear life, squeezes her thighs around Jennifer’s own so tightly that neither woman can move very much.

“Good girl.” Jennifer repeats, her head still nuzzled into the mess of hair in the crook of April’s neck, her hand’s movements unrelenting so that April becomes ever so slightly overstimulated. Jen doesn’t want to overdo it, she’s sure this is the first time April’s been fucked in years. At least this well.

 “I can’t see why you would possibly want to stay here tonight… But I’d like you to.” Jennifer grins as the two slowly return to normal breathing. She gently pushes the hair from April’s face, pulling her hand to her mouth, staring deep into April’s blown out pupils as she indulgently accepts the dripping fingers onto her own tongue.

“I’ll stay…” The younger stutters. April’s voice has gone weak, and has dropped back to its typical nonchalant cadence. Though there is no nonchalance in the way her voice shakes, in the lack of air in her lungs, in the way her hips still rock slightly against Jennifer.

Jennifer takes a moment to admire what she’s made of April. She laughs softly to herself, remembering just how stoic and timid April had once looked behind her office desk. The laughter causes concern to wash over the younger woman’s features, but as Jennifer buttons her shirt back up, she leans forward to press a gentle kiss to April’s lips, dissipating the fear entirely. She can feel something in the pit of her stomach telling her not to get attached, that she’ll only be here for a while and there’s just no way that a young girl like this would want to move her entire life to another state. She wouldn’t to get April caught up in the world of Washington. And yet, here she is, feeling incredibly dedicated to April, so very enthralled by that slanted smile and slightly baffled knitted brows.

As difficult as it is for her to get up—physically, because April is still wrapped around her body like a python— Jennifer slides out of the bed, into her slippers, walks toward the bathroom.

“C’mon baby,” she hums, barely tossing a glance over her shoulder. “We’re not done.”