#I will NOT rest until I know he’s coming back

[sai-int]

fwb!simon, reader catches feelings- NO. FWB!SIMON BUT SIMON CATCHES FEELINGS.

it's quite simple.

simon comes home from a mission, he's restless, twitching, pacing, can't figure out what to do with his hands.

so what does he do? he knocks on your door, waiting anxiously until you open it and he's scooping you up, hauling you across the hall and into his basically empty apartment, and fucking you into the mattress for the night.

and you're just so good at taking it—whatever he gives you and whenever he gives it. you cry, whine, beg and plead for his cock in all the ways you know how—until you go blue in the face—and simon fucking revels in it. he's all harsh words and degrading names, calling you a filthy slut, his cocksleeve, a fucking cumdump—you name it, he's probably said it.

it's perfect, until it's not.

he's spent months fucking you stupid, night after night. he fucks you even when he's not restless. he fucks you when he's bored, when he's lonely. especially when he's lonely.

simon riley's a gridlocked man. hardly anything ever gets past him, but it didn't take many rendezvous between your thighs for him to forget that.

his mask would come fully off—not just above his lips—and you'd still kiss him breathless, still scream his name until your throat went hoarse. you weren't afraid of everything underneath. if anything, you liked it.

It's not like the both of you frequently exchanged actual conversations, but he could tell by the way you dripped and soaked his sheets even more than you ever had.

after that, he even began to gather enough courtesy to let you get some rest after he fucks you, letting you stay wrapped in his sheets for whatever sliver of the night was left.

you never pushed, and that's what he liked most about you. you always went by his terms because you never really cared as long as you got fucked six ways from sunday.

so, you always left when he woke without a problem. that was the arrangement and you were more than fine with getting a good fuck only a few steps away from your own home.

then even you began to notice the shift.

simon could never fuck you badly, per se. but he began to fuck you more softly. tenderly, as if he was suddenly aware that humans shouldn't be bent in half as long he's had you pinned underneath him in the past. he'll rock his hips into you with similar fervor, but he'd caress you, rather than grab at you. hold your forehead to his, rather than choke you with his thick hands.

then came the praise. god, it's like fucking a completely different man. from one week to the next, you're no longer a slut or a hole, you're pretty girl and angel. it makes your head spin. you try to pinpoint the change and why it happened, but you can't. somehow, you cum twice as hard now.

it all came to an ugly head when he spent the better part of 2 hours between your thighs, moaning and groaning as if you were doing him a service.

now, you weren't going to complain, but love just wasn't in the cards for you right now, and the looks simon was giving you from where he lapped at your cunt were filled with adoration, like he was waiting for you to tell him how good he was doing.

hell, you could see a phantom tail wagging each time his eyes met your own. and after a session that felt more like making love than an explosion of pure lust, you could feel his eyes lingering on you as you slipped your panties back on.

"what?" you hum, not wanting to face him in fear you'd see that godforsaken look in his eyes again.

and you were right, because he's staring at you like he's about to drop to one knee. "nothin'."

you toss your shirt back over your head and steel yourself as you turn to face him.

"simon," you start and he's already hanging on your words, "what's going on with you lately? i don't mean to sound rude but—"

this is it, he thinks. it has to be now, or nothing will change. he's not a religious man, but if he's ever prayed to god for anything, it's for this to become something real.

"'m in love with ya."

one blink, then two. two to three, three to four. you stare at him as you try to piece together what he's saying.

"simon, i don't think you understand—"

"—i do. i do understand and i want ya, bad. so bad, i can't even stop thinkin' bout ya, sweetheart. even when y'not 'ere im thinkin' about ya. everything about y'is perfect, and i don't think i can function without y'with me."

this is the most emotion you've ever seen out of simon and it rocks you to your core. if you didn't know better—and if the lighting wasn't so dim—you'd think he was tearing up.

you didn't know how to break it to him.

[ireverie]

girls goon too

pairing ↠ stepbro!sunghoon x (f) reader x stepbro!heeseung

genre .. warnings ↠ smut, stepcest, unprotected sex, oral (m receiving) / face fucking, virgin! reader, dubcon

summary ↠ sunghoon can't take it anymore. you just won't stop gooning in your bedroom for all the world to hear, and he's tired of it. he's pretty sure all you do with your spare time is watch porn. heeseung suggests that he just jerks off, but his morals won't let him; until he decides that he can't hold back anymore. he has to shut you up.

wc ↠ 5.3k

a/n ↠ nohyuck version of this fic originally posted on my blog revehae. i am not plagiarizing myself. this is my apology for missing my friday night drabble post. as always, feedback is appreciated!

don’t like it, don’t read.

“she’s doing it again,” sunghoon grumbled, walking into heeseung’s bedroom. only because the door was ajar, though. he knew the sight he’d walk in on if it was completely closed would be worse than what you were surely doing.

heeseung snickered, eyes fixed on his computer. “what’s the occasion? sixth-month gooning anniversary?”

sunghoon scoffed. he didn’t know why you did it. he thought jake was bad, but you were next level. “i thought surely she would give us a break for november.”

“and she did,” heeseung quipped, moving his mouse. “for all of three days.”

that was true. for the very first three days of november, the house had been relatively quiet apart from heeseung’s shouting when he was losing. then, on the fourth day, it was back to hearing your annoyingly perfect fucking moans in the afternoon.

and god forbid your parents would be coming home late. you were relentless on those days, touching yourself to no end. sunghoon couldn’t stand it. he hated minding his business, trying to rest or work or do anything that didn’t require thinking about the sounds you were making as you persistently edged yourself.

but he couldn’t help himself. sometimes, he could hear your moans even when you weren’t there, and that was when he knew he was finally losing what little bit was left of his goddamn mind. 

heeseung, on the other hand, didn’t seem as miffed. sunghoon was certain his brother could hear the noises you were making down the hall, but he was sitting here without a care in the world, typing an email to his professor of all things. which made no sense to sunghoon, considering he knew how much heeseung liked noisy sex.

“okay, i’ll bite,” sunghoon said, crossing his arms. “how in the hell are you okay with this?”

heeseung shrugged, trying and failing to suppress a smirk. he was well aware of the fact that sunghoon always got worked up when it came to you, which was fair. you were the biggest minx this world had ever known. “well, first of all,” heeseung started, snickering again. “there’s a thing called jerking off. i’m sure you’ve heard of it. it’s really popular amongst guys we know.”

sunghoon looked almost scandalized. “i’m not jerking off to my stepsister.”

“then, you’re an idiot,” heeseung retorted. “she’s given us enough material until new years. of the year after next.”

“it’s wrong.”

heeseung rolled his eyes. “you’ve got such a stick up your ass, like a proper princess or something.”

“i’ll beat your ass, hee,” sunghoon warned. 

heeseung threw his hands up. “i’m just saying. i’m not telling you to stick her in a washing machine, bro. but the answer’s obvious. just jerk off. you know you want to.”

sunghoon sighed. had he thought about it? obviously. but he couldn’t shake how wrong it felt, even if you made him perpetually horny. “i want to smack the shit out of you right now, but i haven’t done it yet.”

rather than recoil, heeseung laughed. that asswipe finds humor in everything, sunghoon thought to himself, irritated. “and i commend your patience, man,” heeseung replied. “but it’s only making you more frustrated when you could just bust a nut and be happy.”

sunghoon was thinking about it now. well, he had thought about it countless times, but he had never allowed himself to stoop that low. you were his younger stepsister and it was his responsibility to take care of you. not picture your face as you moaned and imagine how you would feel, tight and sticky and creamy as you wrapped around his…

heeseung broke the silence, musing more so to himself, “maybe we should put her in the washing machine.”

sunghoon’s eyes flickered. “what the hell, man?”

“my bad,” heeseung replied, although he didn’t look very apologetic. “i was just thinking out loud.”

fuck, now sunghoon was picturing that too. your house had one of those washing machines that opened from the top, not the front. too many times had sunghoon seen you struggle to take your clothes out, dangling over the washing machine and nearly falling inside. he would offer to help, every now and then, but he liked watching you climb the washing machine just to get your clothes from the very bottom.

it was much more realistic for you to get stuck in it then the kinds of washing machines in porn. 

heeseung broke the silence again, still thinking. it was his greatest skill and simultaneously his worst habit. “if you’re so against it, why haven’t you just asked her to shut the fuck up then?”

that was a good question. sunghoon wasn’t the kind of guy to shy away from an altercation, not with friends and not with family. he had certainly never shown heeseung any mercy. he loved his brother, but he was annoying as all fuck.

“i see,” heeseung said, smirking. see, annoying. “it’s because you don’t really want her to stop.”

sunghoon sighed. “yeah, fine. i don’t want her to stop. happy?”

heeseung burst out laughing. always laughing, always scheming. he was going to get a stocking full of coal for christmas. “i have an idea.”

“oh, god,” sunghoon groaned.

heeseung finally pressed send on his email and turned around in his desk chair. “hear me out. we should fuck her.”

sunghoon gawked in disbelief. then again, none of heeseung’s ideas were ever truly brilliant. “you’re insane,” he murmured.

“thanks,” heeseung chirped, the insult rolling off his shoulders. “just sleep on it.”

“you know what? sure,” sunghoon replied, walking out of his brother’s room and shutting the door. he didn’t want to hear another word.

he went about his day like everything was normal, going on a walk so that he didn’t have to hear you, eating dinner and watching netflix in the living room to ignore the fact that you existed altogether. and then he went to bed.

sunghoon couldn’t fucking sleep. on it, over it, under it. he couldn’t sleep whatsoever. 

it wasn’t like you were just loudly moaning all day long, that would be absurd. but every now and then, there would be a whimper you’d let slip. sunghoon could tell that you were actually trying to be quiet. but this was one of those nights where your parents wouldn’t be back and you were taking advantage of that. again.

sunghoon decided that he was at his breaking point. the need for you was too goddamn strong and he was tired of pretending that he was better. he couldn’t ignore it anymore. he couldn’t fight it, suppress it.

he threw the blankets off his bed and went to heeseung’s room, the door closed this time. he knocked on the door and called out, “stop jerking off and get your ass out here.”

sunghoon heard a groan, one of the disgruntled sort. a few seconds later, heeseung opened the door, a scowl on his face. “what the hell, man? your voice ruined my nut.”

it was sunghoon’s turn to laugh. he clasped a hand on heeseung’s shoulder. “don’t worry. you’ll be in the mood again in no time.”

heeseung lifted a brow. “are you saying what i think you’re saying?”

sunghoon nodded. 

“we’re gonna teach her a lesson.”

“we’re gonna put her in the washing machine?”

sunghoon’s smile instantly dropped and his hand fell from heeseung’s shoulder. “why the fuck are you both so addicted to porn?” he asked.

the excited shimmer in heeseung’s eyes died a little. “no, i was… i was just kidding. let’s go.”

sunghoon sighed and started down the hall to your bedroom, deciding not to argue heeseung on that. it would be a waste of valuable time.

sunghoon knocked on the door and called out your name. “can we come in?”

there was audible shuffling as you called back, “just a moment!”

heeseung glanced over at sunghoon. “so, how we doing this?”

sunghoon looked calm, collected. as if fucking his stepsister was something he did on the regular. “just follow my lead.”

you opened the door, a towel thrown around you. but your skin looked damp with sweat, not water. your face was a little flushed. it was obvious that you were naked. “um, can i help you guys?” you asked, somewhat breathless. 

sunghoon looked you up and down subtly. heeseung, on the other hand, was damn near ogling you. the former repeated, “can we come in?”

“um, i guess,” you murmured, stepping out of the way so that they could enter your bedroom.

heeseung closed the door behind himself, not that there was anyone to worry about. it was only the three of you in the house at the moment. 

sunghoon glanced away, looking for traces of what you had been doing. he found them very quickly; your laptop shut on your bed, the blankets messily thrown on top to conceal the damp spots in your sheets, and your shirt and shorts on the floor by your bed, implying you were only in your underwear.

“is there something you guys need?” you asked, a bit annoyed at having been interrupted. 

sunghoon walked towards your desk where your laptop probably should have been, though he saw something fearful flash in your eyes. his brows furrowed, but he didn’t inquire about it. he would figure it out on his own. “do we have to need something to want to visit you?” sunghoon asked, a small smile on his face. “i haven’t seen you all day long. we just wanted to make sure you’re still alive.”

“oh, that’s… very sweet of you,” you murmured. “as you can see, i’m perfectly alive and breathing.”

“yeah, you’re breathing a lot,” heeseung commented. 

sunghoon chuckled. he moved away from your desk and instead towards your nightstand, noticing your eyes still watching him like a hawk. “relax. what’s got you so worked up?”

“i’m not worked up,” you lied, eyes darting between him and your bed. 

that was when it clicked in sunghoon’s brain. the bed. you didn’t want him to see the bed. he chuckled again, sitting down on top of it. “are you okay? you look a little… flushed.”

“yeah,” heeseung chimed in, moving your hair out of your face. you jolted. you had been paying so much attention to sunghoon that you failed to notice heeseung had creeped up behind you. “and sweaty.”

you released a shaky breath. you were nervous, but you couldn’t tell them that. because then they would start asking questions. “i’m okay, guys. you can go.”

“why are you trying to get rid of us?” heeseung asked, leaning in a little too close. “it’s almost like you’re hiding something.”

“what are you watching?” sunghoon asked, grabbing your laptop. 

your eyes widened in horror. “no, wait!” you exclaimed. you tried to stop him, but heeseung was quick to pull you back against his chest. 

sunghoon opened your laptop, being met with a twitter porn browser. he feigned surprise. “oh, wow,” he said, merely blinking. “wow.”

“what is it?” heeseung called from the other side of the room. 

sunghoon turned the laptop to face you and heeseung. “guess she’s really into… creampies, sucking dick, and doggy style.”

your face was hot with embarrassment and you thrashed in heeseung’s arms. “this is an invasion of privacy! you guys jerk off, don’t you?”

“jerk off? sure. watch porn for hours on end? no, i don’t,” sunghoon answered, setting your laptop down. he moved your blankets out of the way, revealing a few damp spots on your bed. “how long did you have to sit here for this to happen?”

you felt very exposed at the moment. like your deepest, darkest secret was steadily reaching its way around the whole world. “i’m not that bad,” you murmured, shy. 

heeseung laughed. he tugged at the towel and brought his hand to your chest, pinching your nipple. “not that bad? you almost gave poor sunghoon over there an aneurysm with how enticing you’ve been.”

your whined when heeseung squeezed your chest, tearing your gaze away from sunghoon to look up at him with wide eyes. “what are you doing?”

“fuck. yeah, that’s what i’m talking about, princess,” heeseung groaned, pressing himself against your ass. “those sweet sounds have been driving him mad.”

any other moment, sunghoon would have narrowed his eyes at heeseung and called him disgusting. but this was different. sunghoon didn’t care about what was right or wrong anymore. maybe he never truly had. what was certain right now was that any desire to behave in a morally acceptable manner was outweighed by the desire to fuck you brainless.

“bring her over here,” sunghoon said, shoving your laptop of the way to make room. 

heeseung grabbed your waist and led you towards the bed, pushing you towards his brother. sunghoon grabbed your chin, smoothing his thumb over your cheek. “gooning isn’t healthy,” he told you straightforwardly. “you know what you need?”

you glanced at him, fretful. the towel had completely fallen at this point, leaving you solely in your water, just as sunghoon had pieced together. “what?” you whispered.

“a fuck,” sunghoon replied unabashedly. “you’re so damn touch-starved. always complaining about how you want a boyfriend, but you never go out, because you’re too busy playing with your clit.”

your face was hot. honestly, they hadn’t given you the opportunity to cool down. but you had to admit that he was right. compared to how much you touched yourself, you didn’t go out enough.

“have you ever even had sex?” heeseung asked, running his hands up your thighs. 

you wanted to hide so fucking bad, but that clearly wasn’t an option. “no,” you replied, ashamed.

sunghoon snickered, because apparently that was funny. “obviously,” he said, moving his thumb to your bottom lip. “this pretty body has gone untouched for too many years, that’s all. once you get fucked, you’ll be as good as new. worked for jake. didn’t it, hee?”

“yep,” heeseung chirped, nodding. “he was the biggest gooner i’ve ever seen. jay had so many roommate horror stories. then, we got him some pussy, and he’s all better now. actually goes outside and gets light that isn’t from his laptop.”

“so, what do you say?” sunghoon asked, turning your head back to him. “want something other than your fingers inside you?”

your heart racing. were you really about to agree to getting fucked by your stepbrothers? when it was over, you could blame it on the fact that you genuinely were touch-starved and desperate for a release for all this pent-up frustration.

and because you really, really needed to come after having avoided it for hours, you nodded your head.

“words, princess,” heeseung said, his hands still gripping your thighs as he thought about how soft they were. “say it. say, ‘i want you to fuck me, heeseung.’”

you swallowed, but you weren’t going to disobey. “i… i want you to fuck me, heeseung.”

“jeez, you don’t have to beg. i’ll do it,” heeseung replied, playful as ever. “and because it’s your first time, i think we should do missionary. is that okay, princess?”

“that’s… fine,” you murmured timidly. it didn’t really matter to you how he fucked you. you just wanted someone inside you. 

heeseung was beaming, like he had prayed for this day and it was finally happening. “good. and if you ever want me to fuck you on all fours, you know the way to my room.”

the way heeseung was looking at you was entirely overwhelming, so you glanced over at sunghoon instead, though he was also watching you intently. “what about… you?” you asked. 

sunghoon chuckled, thumb sweeping over your lips. “i don’t need to fuck your pussy. i’ll leave that to heeseung. i just want to fuck this pretty little mouth that’s been keeping me up at night.”

heeseung, growing impatient, tugged at your panties. you lifted your hips, watching him drag them down your legs. “jesus,” he murmured. “they’re fucking drenched.”

“they better be,” sunghoon replied with a chuckle, stepping out of his pants. “long as she’s probably been wearing them.”

heeseung spread your legs, wanting to get a good look at the treasure hidden between them. he moaned at the mere sight of your pussy, dripping with arousal. “fuck, you don’t even need prep,” he mused.

as if you couldn’t get any more embarrassed than you already were. they knew exactly what to say to make you want to hide your face beneath a pillow and hopefully suffocate to death.

despite his declaration about you not needing prep, heeseung couldn’t help but drag his tongue along your folds, which made you gasp in surprise. it wasn’t a tentative lick, either; he was confident and unreluctant. you were clearly sensitive, but he didn’t seem to care, eager to suck and lick at you.

“heeseung,” you whimpered, involuntarily trying to close your legs. he swore his dick twitched when you said his name like that. 

all the while, sunghoon was stroking himself beside you, half hard. for the first time thinking about you at the same time that he touched his dick, and god, he really should have done it sooner. just the thought of you made his blood pump harder. 

heeseung pulled back after a moment or two when he was finally sated. “sorry,” he apologized, completely inauthentic. “just wanted a taste.”

sunghoon tapped your cheek. “open up, baby.”

you slowly opened your mouth, wide enough for him to push inside. which sunghoon seized the opportunity to do as soon as it presented itself. he was impatient now, tired of waiting. you had tortured him long enough with those pretty noises; it was time you paid him back for tolerating your horniness.

“fuck,” sunghoon cursed upon feeling the warmth of your mouth around his cock.

heeseung snickered. it was amusing to him that only a few hours ago, sunghoon said he was insane for suggesting that they fuck you. and now here he was with his cock down your throat. a few hours could truly change a man, for worse and for better. “how’s it going?” heeseung asked.

sunghoon closed his eyes, trying to go slow before he started fucking your throat with a purpose. he didn’t necessarily want to hurt you, but damn, he was getting pretty damn close. “how do you think?” he retorted.

you watched sunghoon as he slowly moved inside your mouth, though his patience was obviously dwindling by the second. part of you wanted to see what it would look like when he lost it all, but the other dreaded it, uncertain whether or not you could handle it.

you were still a virgin, after all. in the important and unimportant ways. you had never been fucked. you had most certainly never had your throat fucked until this very moment. the furthest you’d ever gone with a boy was a little bit of groping while kissing and even that was awkward.

heeseung licked his lips, appreciating that they were coated in your arousal. “taste so good, princess,” he said, dropping his hands down to his shorts.

you would have gawked when you glanced down and noticed the dent in them, even if it weren’t for the fact that your mouth was preoccupied. when did he get so hard? 

heeseung started to undress himself, pleased now that he had gotten a taste of you and eager to be inside you. he was quick to shed his shorts and the layer underneath, unafraid to show just how desperate he was. for him, it was easy to accept his attraction to you and even easier to act on it now that he had your consent.

he climbed onto the bed, grabbing your thighs again and spreading them apart. he gave them a few affectionate, departing kisses and sat up to grab his cock, bringing it between them. “say ‘goofer gooner’ if you’re ready,” heeseung joked, knowing you couldn’t speak.

you furrowed your brows, but you couldn’t even focus on his nonsense because sunghoon was noticeably forgoing all restraint. could you blame him? your mouth was warm, alive, and everything about you seemed to drive him straight through the brink of insanity. 

“you know, sunghoon,” heeseung started, gazing down at the little distance between your bodies. “you were right. i’m already in the mood again.”

you had that effect on him, on them. heeseung knew he probably should have fought it better, but he truly saw no point. it was easier to fold and surrender to the fact that he found you infuriatingly sexy, despite your tendencies. and with nothing more to say, he slowly but surely pressed himself inside you.

heeseung tipped his head back, already moaning like a bitch and he wasn’t even fully sheathed inside you yet. “holy fuck,” he said, his grip on your thighs tightening.

you whimpered, the sound muffled by sunghoon’s cock as his balls slapped against your chin. you immediately pulsed around heeseung’s cock, clinging to him like now that he was there, you would never let him go.

“holy fuck,” heeseung moaned again, stopping for a moment as if the breath had been completely sucked out of him. “so fucking wet, my dick just slides in.”

he was damn near flabbergasted. maybe there was benefit to you gooning for hours on end, a benefit that he got to reap. he had never seen anyone this wet before, much less felt anything this wet, and it was taking a toll on him. his head was already reeling.

“okay,” heeseung said, more so to himself. he was adjusting. “okay. fuck. i’m gonna move.”

and he did, growing more and more mesmerized with every thrust of his hips. his mouth hung open, moans of your name and explicit curses dangling from his lips with a shrill touch to them that only made you even more aroused.

to say nothing of the sounds sunghoon was making, almost directly in your ear. he was so close to your face that you could explode. he was finally moving comfortably, fucking your throat with a rhythm that almost made it hard to breathe. 

though you had no intention of making him stop. you had fantasized about making yourself available for this purpose many, many times. not necessarily to your stepbrother, but well, it wasn’t like you were discriminating. especially not when he sounded so goddamn sexy and his face was tensing the way it was in pleasure.

it was strange, but you found yourself going from solely craving the experience to wanting to pleasure them. and it would appear that you were doing a fantastic job without hardly even trying, all things considered.

heeseung was gripping on your thighs for dear life as if without the support, he would get blown away into the eighth dimension. or maybe drown in how wet you were, gushing around his cock, if not for him using your soft thighs as an anchor to keep him afloat.

“this sweet fucking pussy,” he sighed, losing himself in the vice of you. he had set a pace too, fucking you without intention of stopping. with every fiber of his being, deep and hard. “i could fuck you forever.”

you could sit here and take it forever. you had never felt so full in your life. your fingers hardly did the job, always reaching just shy of where you needed them instead of completely offering you the satisfaction you’d long craved. and here heeseung was handing it to you on a silver platter.

the only problem was that you felt slightly overwhelmed with so much happening at one time in two different holes. you didn’t know who to pay attention to; sunghoon fucking your throat with a vengeance, eager to gain something out of your mouth for once, or heeseung railing you to kingdom come, making you feel hot everywhere.

you found yourself trying to juggle both, eyes flitting between them, moaning around sunghoon’s dick at heeseung’s angled thrusts and throbbing around heeseung at every guttural groan that slipped from sunghoon’s mouth. you couldn’t help yourself; it was too goddamn arousing.

sunghoon noticed how fucked out you looked, eyes rolling back to another timeline, and it was doing unimaginable things to his cock. you looked better than he could have ever imagined and he knew that he wouldn’t be satisfied until he left you hoarse and rasping.

with that thought, he grabbed your hair to push you down and started to fuck your head against the mattress rather roughly, which caught you by surprise. you tried to take it, you really did, but it was overwhelming. you could barely breathe.

“take it,” he hissed, holding your head in place. you looked pretty like this, struggling to keep up with his hectic movements.

your eyes were watering as his cock went too deep for you to handle, and you started gagging. sunghoon moaned, but pulled your head off him to let you relax for a second, a string of saliva connecting your mouth and the head of his cock.

“breathe,” he said, letting one hand run through your hair almost tenderly.

you nodded, willing yourself to relax. all the while, sunghoon marveled at how pretty you looked with saliva on your face and tears strolling down your cheeks.

“you guys okay up there?” heeseung asked from between your legs, having noticed the action. 

“we’re fine,” sunghoon answered on your behalf. he moved his hand from your hair to your cheek. “you ready?”

you nodded your head. you couldn’t shake the urge to really make him proud, to satisfy all his inappropriate cravings. it was the least you could do when you had been tantalizing him for months on end.

“good girl,” sunghoon whispered, guiding his cock back to your mouth and this time using your hair to push your head onto his cock as he fucked your throat.

you moaned at the pet name, because something about the way it sounded coming from him made your head spin. maybe you were just horny and in dire need of a fuck like he’d said. maybe after you came, all of these feelings would wear off, and you would feel somewhat sane again. 

but you couldn’t deny that you were somewhat indulging in your fantasies here. you didn’t necessarily hate the the way sunghoon was treating you, even if it was a little beyond your limits and more than a little rough. but limits were just boundaries you’d yet explored.

heeseung was a different situation altogether. your pussy was still sensitive from the hours of playing with it and you were already about to come much before him. there was a familiar heat in your stomach and festering throb of energy in your core, only more intense than you had ever experienced.

but heeseung recognized it, even without being able to hear your sweet moans of his name. he could see it in your body language and it flattered him in a way; he always felt proud when he lasted longer than the person he was fucking, especially without necessarily even trying to finish them quicker.

“she’s gonna come,” heeseung pointed out, grinning. “come for me, princess. come on this dick. you know you want to.”

it was like he your voodoo doll or something, because merely seconds after those words parted from his mouth, you were shuddering and tightening around his cock with climax, your eyes rolling to the back of your head and your toes clenching.

heeseung let out the pitchiest moan ever when you throbbed around him repeatedly. words could not describe how good it felt, but sounds could. and the sounds he was making were sensational, only contributing to the mind-numbing pleasure wrecking you from within.

“goddamn,” heeseung said, mesmerized by how hard you came. it was probably warranted after hours of resisting.

but the other thing on heeseung’s mind was how much wetter your pussy sounded, sticky with your release. he whined, literally going mad. he knew that his own orgasm wasn’t far out and just the squelch of your cunt could easily finish him off.

sunghoon was facing a similar predicament, fucking your mouth without restraint and not letting you escape his thrusts. “fuck, i’m gonna come,” he groaned. “swallow it. or don’t. it’s your sheets.”

the last thing you of all people cared about was having your sheets ruined. at the moment, you were more burdened with how sore your throat felt and how overstimulated your pussy was being fucked despite having already orgasmed. it literally felt like you’d had the soul fucked out of you.

you didn’t even know it was possible at this point, but sunghoon’s hips went faster. it was a brutal but steady pace, which was somewhat admirable. he was trying to get himself there, right over the edge, knowing release was only seconds away.

with a few more smacks, sunghoon released down your throat with the sexiest groan you’d heard, one that claimed every award. when you’d milked him of every drop, his hands tight on the sides of your face, his grip on your head slacked and he slowly pulled your mouth off him.

you swallowed what you could, but he had came so goddamn much at once, it was borderline ridiculous. what you couldn’t take dripped down your chin, blending with the saliva from the messy fucking.

heeseung glanced up at you and the sight of your cum-stained face triggered something so primal in him that he knew he wasn’t going to last another minute. “princess, where do you want me to come?” he asked breathlessly.

“inside,” you replied with maybe half your voice, if even. it hurt to speak. the sound pleased sunghoon.

the thought of coming inside your pussy had heeseung levitating and was the last push he needed to bring himself past the cusp of ecstasy. his hips stuttered as he came inside you, crying out half of your name, leaning on top of you as he buried his load inside your warm, wet, gushing, sticky hole.

a satisfied hum escaped you when you felt his cum seeping inside your pussy. why did it feel so good?

“d-don’t move yet,” you whispered, because it was all you could muster.

heeseung glanced up at you, recognizing the look of pleasure on your face. if he had the energy, he would tease you about how you wanted to feel him cum inside you, but he needed to catch his breath. so he answered with a nod.

sunghoon whistled. this had gone better than he’d hoped. “well goddamn. you’re just a virgin slut aren’t you?”

heeseung chuckled breathlessly. “she took that shit like a champ. i’m impressed.”

sunghoon kissed your forehead. “you did so good,” he whispered, caressing your cheek with his thumb. “i’ll get you some water in a second.”

you nodded, appreciating the tender side after all that had just happened. your heart felt a little lighter than usual, despite its racing. you had so many questions, but you didn’t want to strain your voice. was it normal to feel like a different person after having sex for the first time?

heeseung was going to pull out, but seeing the look on your face, he decided to stay nestled inside you for a little longer. “you okay?”

you bobbed your head. “i’m good.”

heeseung snickered and teased, “whoa there, batman. what have you done with my sister?”

you rolled your eyes, but giggled. sunghoon joined in on the laughter, but he added, “don’t speak. you’ll make it worse.”

heeseung sighed contentedly. knowing that you wouldn’t say anything in response, he decided to tease, “our little gooner.”

you glared at heeseung wordlessly, conveying a lot of different things with your eyes. 

sunghoon translated playfully, “i think that means ‘fuck you.’”

“again?” heeseung joked. “what can i expect from a gooner. but hey, i guess girls can goon too.”

[inotakumagf]

glorious evol-ultion!

✶ L&DS x gn! reader

word count ✺ 2.9K

summary ✺ you discover you can use your evol to make your own strap-on, & it lets you feel everything.

warning ✺ minors DNI! pegging, top! reader, bottom! LIs, misuse of evol lol, reader is gender neutral & afab. individual warnings for each blurb. based on this post. reblogs & comments are very appreciated <3 happy belated valentine’s day

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Xavier — cockwarming, bratty! Xavier, dom! reader, degradation, pet names (my moon, bunny), maybe hints at somnophilia, Xavier is so disobedient but he’s cute while doing it so…

You rest your head on Xavier's shoulder, nipping kisses into his skin. His skin is flushed all the way down his back and across his neck. You peer over at his unnaturally quiet form. You bite down on his skin harder, fishing for a reaction.

“What's on your mind, bunny?”

Finally, you get to him. His breath comes out ragged, and he thrusts imperceptibly backwards. You wouldn't have noticed if your focus wasn’t completely on him. You reach down, wrapping an arm around his waist and holding him flush against you. He tries to grind against your strap again, but you're ready for his bratty behavior this time. You hold his hips still against your own, denying him the relief you know he’s craving. You’ve denied him over and over again, and you’ll keep denying him until he learns his lesson.

He lets out a long, low moan, tipping his head backwards. He peeks over at you with desperate eyes.

“My moon, please, please, please fuck me. Need you…hng– so bad.” His voice is sweet and patient, but you know it’s just a cover. You pull him closer, which makes your strap fit deeper in him.

You grit your teeth as you feel him clench desperately around you. Or, technically around your evol. But your evol is so strongly connected to your own senses that the energy you’ve poured into your phantom dick feels so real.

You drag your teeth over the soft cartilage of his ear. “Don't act so innocent now, Xavier. You were a fucking brat all day. What makes you think I'll give you what you want?”

He groans in frustration. His hand shoots out to wrap around his throbbing, aching dick, not caring about the consequences. It takes you a split second to realize, and when you do, you slap his hand away.

You tut, jerking his chin so that he has to look back at you. “Such an impatient fucking brat. That’s why I need to train you, bunny.”

He cries out desperately at the lack of attention to his cock and his prostate. He pleads, too far gone to care about how much he’s submitting to you. “Please, baby. I know you need it too.”

You squish his cheeks, watching as he pouts into your touch. “Do I? I can control myself, unlike you. You’re just a dumb bunny, desperate to get off without a care in the world. You get too desperate when you fuck a hole, or when you’re getting fucking. I need to teach you, or you’ll be too horny to think straight.”

Xavier cries out again, but he doesn’t make a move to get you to stimulate his prostate, so you reward him with a sweet kiss. He tries to deepen it, but you pull away with a smile. You snuggle into him, taking a deep breath into his hair. You run your hand back down his chest, resting it gently over his waist.

“Come on, Xav. If you’re a good boy and sleep like this, I’ll fuck you when we wake up, okay?”

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Sylus — belly bulge, missionary, service/sub top! reader, creampie, overstimulation, hints at multiple rounds, sylus is a size queen, little bit of dacryphilia, praise (r receiving), sylus talks you through fucking him

It’s hard to breathe with Sylus’s tight hole wrapped so beautifully around your strap. You get it now, why he gets so lost in pleasure when he fucks you. And now that you’re fucking him, you never want to stop. You feel like some kind of uncontrollable beast. Your kisses against his lips are spit-slicked and downright hungry. Your thrusts are fast and mean. Nothing on this Earth can pull either of you away from each other.

Sylus, to his credit, takes your pace like he was made for it. He’s laying with his back arching off the mattress, and his legs around your waist keep your strap deep inside him. Thank god for your dedicated hunter training, otherwise you wouldn't be able to hold yourself up above him this long. 

You feel like a desperate mess. Even your evol is out of control. It leaks essence against his hole, making your strokes wet and easy. You wonder if you can fuck him hard enough to draw an actual orgasm out of your evol strap. The thought makes you moan, and you fuck him harder and deeper, deserate to see yourself leaking out of him.

The pleasure is so overwhelming that you blink in surprise when his large hand comes up to brush your cheek, drying your tears. You hadn’t even realized that you were crying. 

Sylus gasps at a particularly deep thrust. “So good, sweetheart. You’re fucking me so good. Can feel you in my throat.” His words slur together because of the pleasure, and you take it as a motivator to keep going.

You squeeze your eyes shut. “Fuck. Don’t say that. I won’t be able to hold on much longer.”

He grins. His next words are slow and tantalizing. “Who said you had to hold yourself back? Give it to me, sweetheart. I can take it.”

His words and his roaming touch send you spiraling. His legs hold you against him so tight that you can barely pull back, but you make up for it with how deep your thrusts are. You just want to fill him up as much as you can.

Sylus throws his head back against the pillow suddenly, and his hands claw desperately at your biceps. You wish you had your phone, so that you can record his loud, whorish moans. You stare down where you're being sucked into his desperate hole, and that's when you notice what made him lose his composure.

Your strap is girthier than it had been moments ago. And if you focus, you can feel how much deeper it's reaching. Your innate desire to fill him up has made you a perfect fit for him. 

You stare down at his stomach, mesmerized. As you continue fucking him, your hand reaches out shakily to press your hand against the bulge that has formed from your enlarged evol cock. You keep pressing, even as Sylus convulses around you. He releases all over his own chest, and you fuck him through his orgasm.

Your eyes roll back as you feel your evol spill into him, hot and thick. 

You gasp, trying to catch your breath from all the energy you'd exerted. When you come down from your high, you stare with wet, pleading eyes at Sylus, who looks dazed. You pat the bulge in his stomach lovingly, making him twitch at the overstimulation.

“Sy, can you give me just one more? Please, I promise this will be the last one.”

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Zayne — cowgirl, zayne is on top and in control, reader is desperate and drunk on zayne’s hole, finger sucking, oral mention (r receiving), zayne bounces on it like a professional

You thrust your hips upwards on instinct. You know you’ve made a mistake the moment you do, but you can’t help yourself. You curl your fingers into the duvet to control yourself better. It takes a few careful breaths to remember the instructions that your boyfriend had given you. 

It takes everything in you not to thrust your strap deeper into Zayne’s hole. How can anyone blame you, with the sight before you? Zayne is just sitting so prettily on your lap. His thick thighs press against your hips on either side, and his poor, neglected cock rests on your stomach. It spurts pre cum every now and then, but otherwise, Zayne is the epitome of control.

He stares down at you, and you can practically feel the scolding at the tip of his tongue. He moves to lift off your strap, and you reach your hands out to hold his hips down, keeping him in place.

You babble desperately, hoping you can convince your boyfriend to forgive you. “‘M sorry, Zayne. Didn’t mean to be bad. You just feel so good. Please, I wanna make you feel good!”

He tuts disapprovingly. His hands caress your skin gently, trailing up your hips and waist. Your eyes flutter shut as he brushes his thumb over your bottom lip, his other fingers pressing against your cheek. You take his thumb into your mouth like you know he wants. You know your eyes are wide and wet and dumb as you stare up at him desperately, silently begging for more. He presses his thumb against your tongue, watching you drool all over the digit.

“Are you going to be good and let me use you, my love?” His voice is calm and grounding, and it brings you back to him. 

During any other circumstance, Zayne would loathe to use you for his own pleasure. He has spent many, many evenings unwinding with his face buried between your legs. But today is different. You want…no, you need this. You’re still not used to your evol-powered strap, but that's okay. That’s why Zayne is here, to help you think with your head instead of with the energy coursing between your legs.

You nod, hoping he can see how badly you need him to use you right now. And because it's Zayne and he always knows what you need, he lifts off your dick slowly before sinking back down. 

You gnaw on his thumb as he finds a rhythm, watching his face pinch in pleasure as he bounces on your strap. His heavy-lidded eyes peel open so that he can look down at you. You whine around his finger, pleading. For what you’re not entirely sure. Zayne pulls his thumb out of your mouth with a soft ‘pop’.

Before you can complain, he leans down, arching his chest into yours and capturing your lips against his in a sweet, soothing kiss. 

He pulls away slightly so that he can stare into your eyes, but a string of saliva keeps him connected to you. His smile is gentle.

“So good for me, my love. Do you think you can cum inside me like this?”

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Rafayel — backshots, rafayel is a good boy i promise, he’s also cockdrunk, marking & slapping (m receiving), creampie, mention of a threesome with a certain someone….., rafayel is glued to your strap 24/7

“You didn’t answer my question, Rafayel.”

Poor Rafayel doesn’t answer. How can he, with the way you’re pounding into him? The grip you have on his waist is intoxicating. With each thrust, you dig your nails into his skin, knowing it will leave crescent-shaped marks later. 

It will just add to the other marks you’ve painted across his body. You’re no artist of his talent, but there’s something about the way that you can use his body like your own private canvas that makes you want to leave as many marks as you can. 

Rafayel still doesn’t answer you, or even acknowledge you at all. He’s too busy drooling over the covers and moaning out incomprehensible praises. His arch is deep as he presses back against your mean pace, and you’re certain he’s too cockdrunk to realize that you’re even speaking.

You land a sharp slap against his round ass, which is already red with the impression of your palm. He cries out at the impact, so you caress him gently in apology, watching it jiggle with every slam of your hips against his.

You sing-song his name mockingly, “Raf-a-yel. Is my good boy still with me? Or is he too dumb to answer?”

He whimpers in response. “No, ah! I-I’m here! ‘M your good boy, I promise.”

You reward him with another deep thrust. “So answer me, where do you want me to cum on you?”

You and Rafayel have been experimenting with your evol, and you’ve made the wonderful discovery that your dick can cum at your will. You’ve been testing the evol strap in as many ways that you can, in every location and every position that comes to mind. And Rafayel is being so good, helping you discover your favorite ways to fuck him. So far, full nelson has made you cum the most, but something about doggy is making you feral. Something about seeing Rafayel so desperate, so pliant, so vulnerable to your touch…it’s exhilarating.

Rafayel seems to agree, if the way his cock leaks onto the bed is any indication. He would do anything you asked him to, in this state of mind. You don’t know what to do with that kind of power over him. 

“I-inside, please?”

You reach down, stroking his neglected cock mercifully. He fucks himself back against your cock, matching the rhythm of your hips and strokes. 

“Please,” he gasps out. “I’m so close!”

You smile down at his arching back. “Yeah? Gonna cum for me? Come on, I want to see you fall apart on my cock.”

His arch gets deeper the harder you pound into him. Your rhythm is so off now, it's a joke. He can’t match your thrusts anymore, so he just drops his upper body against the bed and lets you have your way with him. His whines get so loud and needy, and it encourages you to push you both over the edge, until your evol fills deep inside of him.

Rafayel’s hands scramble over his back, searching for your’s blindly. You soften, intertwining your fingers with his as he comes down from his high. He flops onto his back, legs all jelly-like. You lay beside him, massaging his legs comfortingly.

“I have an idea for next time. You know that friend you made in the N109 Zone? What if we—”

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Caleb — sub! caleb, mean! reader, oral sex (r receiving), boot humping, make up sex?, degradation, dacryphilia, reader & caleb match each other’s freaks, little bit of angst, little bit of s&m, caleb straight up worships reader

“I’m sorry.”

You deliver another slap to his face. There’s no strength behind it, but you need Caleb to know how upset he’s made you. You could never bring yourself to actually hurt him. But he left you, and you’re so angry.

Your voice is hoarse as you say, “I thought you were dead. You– you let me think you were dead. And now that I have you back, you think you can leave?”

He opens his mouth to explain again that he needs to go to Skyhaven for whatever stupid reason, but you don’t want to hear it. You grab his chin and force him to look up at you. You can only imagine how you look—tears of anger and grief streaming down your cheeks with your evol strap fisted in your other hand.

You stare down at him coldly, though your heart twinges at the tears falling down his own cheeks. You drag the leaking tip of your dick against his pouting lips, smearing your essence against them. Your evol mixes with his salty tears.

“How about you make it up to me?” You ask coyly. Truth be told, you’re not all that mad at him. You’re grateful that he’s alive. But if he’s offering himself to you like this, if he’s on his knees begging for your forgiveness, you’ll take, and take, and take.

You press your tip against his lips messily, watching him lick it gently. You know he doesn’t mean to tease you with his kitten licks, but you’re impatient. Your brows pinch in pleasure as you force him to take you deeper into his mouth. His cheeks hollow, and he grabs your hips for stability as he slides your dick in and out of his mouth. 

He pops off, letting your strap slap against his face gently. He nuzzles his face against it, staring up at you like nothing else exists but you and him. “You have the power to command me.”

You stare down at him. His eyes are large and desperate, and he looks up at you like you’re a divine being for him to worship. Your hand digs into his hair, tugging on it just because you can.

His voice is low and pleading as he whispers, “Use me. Use me, because I am yours. I will always crawl back to you. They can’t keep me away from you.”

His promise makes you smile. Because that's what his words are—a promise that he will never leave you again.

You have to reward his loyalty. You press the sole of your boot against his aching cock. You can feel how hard he is, even over his pants. When he lifts his hips, grinding up against your boot, you give him more. You’ll always give him what he wants.

As he finds relief in grinding and humping your leg, you press your strap back against his eager lips. Your fingers dig into the back of his head, and you fuck his mouth fast and hard. More than anything, you need to see your cum all over his face. To claim him.

You make your own promise to him, “If you ever try to leave me again, I will lock you up, and I’ll make sure no one takes you away from me.”

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[prlssprfctn]

I need more of Jason's and Lois's duo, so here is my humble little scenario — Jason accidentally starts writing articles under her wing after being back from dead.

It starts like this: Bruce kinda announces the rest of the League that the Second Robin is alive, and in fact, Red Hood is him. It is confusing as fuck, but honestly, at this point, everyone is used to Batman's antics, so they just nod along. Clark decides to casually drop the news to Lois, too.

Clark: Do you remember the Second Robin?

Lois, without getting distracted from her work: Oh, of course. Batman asked my autograph for him once. And he mailed me a few of his writing stories once. He was such a talented kid.

Clark: He is alive again!

Lois: Oh.

Lois, pausing and glaring thoughtfully at her computer: ...Do you think he is still into writing?

So, Lois reaches out to Jason, suggesting to try writing again because the Daily Planet needs more talented people, and she can't find anyone normal for months now. And Jason accepts. They end up choosing him a pen name, and it goes just... perfectly. Lois is glad that someone matches her enthusiasm and does the job perfectly, Jason is in awe about working with his second favourite woman alive (after Wonderwoman, of course) and doing the thing he likes.

Jason, irritated as fuck, calling Lois: Hey. I don't know if you have seen the latest president's meeting, but, please, tell me that I can—

Lois: Yeah, son. Drag his ASS. I will deal with the rest.

Jason: Don't tell anyone, but you are my favourite Super.

Lois: Don't tell anyone either, but you are my favourite Bat.

Lois: Now, on a completely unrelated note, do you think Red Hood can assassinate the president—

Naturally, Jason doesn't intend to tell anyone about his new job. No one suspects a thing anyway, and he is working from home, expect for times, when he visits Lois to hang out. Everything is fine.

Until Tim.

Tim, coming for dinner at Kents, by Kon's invitation: Hey, everyone— Jason?

Jason, who is giggling with Lois about their the most hated coworker: Uh. No?

Tim: JASON!

So, Tim knows now. He agrees not to tell anyone, but it doesn't mean that he is not going to tease Jason subtly around others. As usual.

Tim, casually, during the family breakfast: By the way, had you guys read articles in Daily Planet recently? Their new writer is fire.

Jason, tensing up: ...

Bruce: Really? Which one?

Tim, smiling politely: Oh, his name is Peter Austen. His writing style is SO good, and he is always SO on point, I ADORE him.

Jason, half-flustered, half-irritated: (gesturing Tim to shut up)

Bruce: I'll check his articles later today, then. Jaylad, had you read any of it?

Jason, grumpy as hell: You know me. I only read that crap for Lois.

Tim: That's a shame. Because I love this man SO MUCH.

(On the other side of table)

Dick, whistling: Damn, I think Lil Wing is jealous.

Damian, nodding: Todd definitely wishes he could be Drake's favourite writer.

[helaintoloki]

Somethin’ Stupid

part two

pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

warnings: angst, lots of pining, eventual fluff

notes: part two is here! ty guys for the support and hope you enjoy <3

summary: being forced to go on a mission together allows bucky and y/n to come to an understanding

*part one

You wake up with an awful hangover and a broken heart.

A part of you had hoped that the events that had transpired last night were merely figments of a dream, a peek into some alternate dimension where you had misjudged your tolerance for alcohol and completely humiliated yourself in front of the man you were hopelessly in love with. But the glass of water paired with a bottle of aspirin and a note from Natasha excusing you from training today proved otherwise.

All it took was a single drunken confession to completely obliterate one of the most dearest friendships you had. How could you ever possibly face him after this? Not only had you completely misread his intentions, but he had responded less than enthusiastically to your profession. You’d seen it in his face, the guilt that swam in his eyes and sympathetic smile that he wore so beautifully despite how badly it hurt you. Though Natasha had cut him off before he could offer a full response, you had enough sense to know what had been coming next.

“I’m sorry kid, but I don’t see you that way. You’re just not my type.”

The mere thought has you reeling all over again as you fight to keep your nausea at bay and clumsily reach for the glass of water. You’re grateful that you’ve been given the green light to essentially lock yourself away in your room and hide in your shame for the rest of the day, but you know that eventually you’ll be expected to go back out there and resume your daily routine. But Bucky was part of that routine, and you feel absolutely pathetic as you realize just how much you’d centered your life around him.

It’s obvious that logic is not your strong suit when it comes to these situations, so it made sense that you felt the only natural solution was to simply avoid Bucky for as long as humanly possible. You’d spar with someone else, maybe ask Natasha to join you for a movie instead, and chase away your own nightmares from now on. Surely this would help you get over him once and for all.

At least that’s what you hoped.

However, you were only successful in avoiding Bucky for a straight week until Steve decided you two were the perfect candidates for a recon mission.

You’d followed Steve around the compound pleading your case as soon as he’d handed you the mission file, but the man was adamant that you were the only one right for the job.

“You’re the only one who can see inside the building without actually having to step foot in it,” Steve had reminded you, his stance firm and his arms crossed over his broad chest as he spoke. “We need to know if these guys actually have any stolen Stark tech on their hands before we risk going in there. Your vision can give us the layout of the building and determine their inventory without them even knowing.”

“If my enhanced eyesight makes me the most qualified then why can’t I just go on my own?” You adamantly protested before handing the file back to him. “It clearly states in the report that I’m not expected to go inside or make contact with any hostiles, so why do I need a partner?”

“You’re going to be too busy scanning the building to watch your own back, so you’ll need someone else there to watch it for you,” Steve reminded you with authority, his tone indicative of the fact that as Captain he had the final say. With a softer tone, he placed a firm hand on your shoulder before giving it a comforting squeeze. “Besides, I think this will be good for you both. A team only works if everyone’s on the same page, so it’s important to me that you two figure things out. Understood?”

“You got it, Cap,” you finally relinquished with a discontented sigh before excusing yourself to prepare for the mission.

You end up in the car garage a few hours later anxiously waiting for Bucky’s arrival. A part of you had considered leaving without him and worrying about Steve’s wrath at a later point, but you knew better than to test your luck. He was right about needing someone to have your back, but you just wish that someone could have been anyone else on the team.

The sound of heavy boots making their way towards you prompts you to lift your despondent gaze towards their own. Despite only having been apart from him for a week, you still find your breath catching in your throat and heartbeat speeding its pace by tenfold as you lock eyes with his stormy gaze. You have no idea what he’s thinking, and you desperately wish your x-ray vision could allow you to look into his head and read his thoughts, but unfortunately that’s Wanda’s speciality, not yours.

“Hey,” he greets with a barely visible smile that makes your chest tighten with longing. You’d think that after being rejected you’d be over him by now, but it turns out it’s true when they say absence makes the heart grow fonder.

“Hi,” you murmur meekly, absently dragging the toe of your boot along the ground. The air is thick with tension as you both engage in an unwelcome staring contest and wait with baited breath for the other to address the obvious elephant in the room. After a minute, you finally speak, “Thanks for coming along.”

“No need to thank me,” he assures you in the softest tone he can muster, almost as if you’ll run off again if he doesn’t choose his words carefully. “You know I’ll always have your back.”

His reply has you swallowing harshly while your stomach twists itself in knots; this week had been miserable for you, and yet you’d never stopped to consider how Bucky was fairing in your absence. Even if he did only view you as a kid, you still had formed a close bond with the man, and it must have been jarring for him to spend his days unused to your absence. You’d essentially iced him out without worrying about the repercussions, and now here you were forced to face them head on.

“We should go,” you state suddenly in an attempt to avoid any further awkwardness. Bucky opens his mouth to protest but instead chooses to keep silent and grab the keys for his motorcycle. As much as he’s been dying to talk to you about what had occurred at Tony’s party, he knows you both need to be focused on the task at hand, so he instead chooses to offer you a helmet before starting up the bike.

The world almost feels whole again when you seat yourself behind him and wrap your arms around his torso in a tight hold as he begins to speed off to your destination. You’ve missed this closeness, his warmth, the scent of his cologne and the comfort it brings you to rest your cheek against his back as you watch the scenery pass you by. You’re not sure if your relationship with the super soldier will ever be the same, and a part of you wonders if it’s possible to borrow the time stone from Dr. Strange so you can go back and stop yourself from making such a horrid mistake. You’d feel better if you could at least know what Bucky was thinking.

Unbeknownst to you, Bucky was thinking about a lot of things.

Though everyone around him could see how stupidly blind he was to your adoration for him, Bucky legitimately had no inkling of your romantic feelings for him. The shock on his face that night had been genuine, and your confession left him dumbfounded as he scrambled to come up with the right words, but Natasha had whisked you away before he had been given the chance.

Bucky laid awake for hours that night reminiscing on all the times you’d shared together- evenings spent talking for hours until the sun came out, playful teasing over your earpieces during missions, letting you crawl into his bed at odd hours because it helped your night terrors. He could say he was simply being a good friend, a good teammate even, but he knew he’d only be kidding himself. Bucky would do just about anything you asked of him, and he knew it was because deep inside he loved you too.

The word kid had slipped out, but it was meant to be viewed as a harmless pet name. If he knew just how upset it would have made you he never would have used it, and it haunted him every single day you ignored him. He wanted to make things right, but that would only be possible if you gave him the chance.

And right now, it didn’t seem like that was going to happen anytime soon.

~~~

Your eyes are laser focused on the building before you as you nestle into the high branches of a tree and ignore the biting cold from the snowfall. Bucky is perched beside you, gaze constantly shifting as he scans the area for any potential threats to your safety. You’ve been at this for about an hour as you meticulously scan each floor in search of any weapons as well as intel regarding how many people occupy the building. Your eyes are starting to burn from the amount of strain your powers put on them, something Bucky picks up on as he places a hand on your shoulder to get your attention.

“I think you should take a break,” he prompts with worry clear on his features. Though a part of you agrees, you’re too stubborn to relent to his suggestion. This mission is your chance to prove to him that you’re not just some kid he has to babysit; you are just as capable as anyone else, and you want him to see you not as a mentee but as an equal.

“I’m fine,” you insist indignantly before returning your gaze to the weapons base, “you’re breaking my concentration.”

“Y/n, if you put too much pressure on your eyes you’re going to have a crushing migraine for weeks and Steve will have no choice but to bench you from missions,” he reminds you, and though Bucky is only trying to be helpful you feel as if you’re being reprimanded like some child.

“Are you not listening to me? I’m fine,” you grit through clenched teeth. The pressure is getting to you, and this conversation certainly isn’t helping.

“Look, just stop to use the eyedrops Dr. Banner gave you and then-“

“Oh my god, would you stop?! You’re not my babysitter, Bucky!” You finally cry out in exasperation.

“Hey!” A third voice interjects before Bucky can respond, prompting both of you to turn your heads just in time to see a man below raising his gun in your direction. You’d both been so engrossed in your debacle to notice a guard had been sent to search the area, and your little outburst had just given away your hiding spot.

Your head is pounding from the overexertion of your powers, and you’re barely able to register Bucky yelling at you to duck. The man begins to shoot before Bucky can draw his gun, and you’re not quick enough to duck out of the way when a bullet comes in your direction. It shoots straight through your shoulder blade, the force strong enough to hinder your balance and throw you off of the tree branch.

“Y/n!” Bucky cries out, eyes wide as he shoots a hand out for you. He’s barely able to graze your fingertips before you go falling straight to the ground with a strangled cry. The last thing you see is his horrified face before you hit the floor with a defeaning thud.

Everything goes dark after that.

~~~

The lights of the infirmary are blinding as you will yourself to peel your eyes open with a groan. A dull throbbing fills your head as you lift your hand to shield your eyes and attempt to sit up only to be gently pushed back down onto the bed.

“Easy there, slugger,” a voice reprimands teasingly, “Bruce says you shouldn’t be making any sudden movements for the next few days. You didn’t break anything, but you’re bruised up pretty bad and need to be on a five day medication regimen to keep the migraines at bay, and that’s not even mentioning the bullet hole in your shoulder.”

“Natasha?” you murmur hoarsely, barely making out her figure through squinted eyes. Your mind is reeling as you try to recall the events of your mission, and your stomach drops as you recall that you hadn’t been alone when you’d been ambushed. “Where’s Bucky?!”

You try to sit up again only for her to push you back down with one hand while the other uses the control pad to dim the lights in the room. You’re grateful for the pressure it alleviates, but your racing heart does nothing to help your anxious state.

“Bucky is fine,” she reassures you, “he left to get you some water, but he’s been in this room all day since you both got back.”

“What happened? I-I remember arguing with him, getting caught, falling out of a tree…”

“You hit a couple branches on the way down which is why you’re all banged up, but luckily the snow helped break your fall and prevented any further damage. Barnes was able to get you both out of there unscathed, and thankfully Bruce was able to remove the bullet out of your shoulder with minimal scarring. But… I have to say, I’ve never seen Bucky look so worried before.”

“God,” you whine in embarrassment, palms pressing into your eyes as you hold your face in your hands. “It’s like I’m incapable of not making a fool of myself every time we’re alone together.”

“Look, just stop dragging your feet and face the issue head on. You two need to work this out,” Natasha reiterates, her eyes subtly shifting to the man that enters the infirmary with a bottle of water in his hands. “The sooner the better.”

Bucky looks like a dog caught with its tail between his legs as he approaches your bedside, swallowing nervously as Natasha moves past him with a “good luck” leaving her lips as she exits the room and allows you both some privacy. You take the bottle from him with trembling hands and a quiet thank you before finally willing yourself to look at him.

“I’m sorry… this whole mess is my fault,” you murmur remorsefully, fingers fidgeting with the paper label on the bottle, "if I had just kept my mouth shut that night-“

“I’m glad you said it.”

“What?” You breathe out in surprise, unsure if you heard him correctly or if it was just your migraine skewing your perception of reality. Bucky swallows nervously before seating himself beside your bed, a bashful smile playing at his lips as he meets your gaze.

“Look, I know I reacted horribly in the moment, but it was only because I thought you were too drunk to mean it,” he confesses almost shamefully, a flash of guilt present in his features. “It’s hard to believe a woman as wonderful as you would want a tired old man like me, and I assumed it was a spur of the moment thing. But I have cared for you the moment Steve introduced you to us as a new member of the team, and I don’t go out of my way to protect you because I think you’re some incapable kid who needs my help. It’s because… well, it’s because I love you too. And I’m sorry it took me this long to say it.”

Your lips are parted in shock as you process Bucky’s words, your mind racing to catch up as you realize the man you’ve pined for so long is now confessing his love for you. A part of you is scared that this is some sort of concussion dream and that you’ll wake up to find it wasn’t real. But the feel of his hand carefully cupping your cheek says otherwise, and you nearly melt into his touch at the feeling.

“You love me?” You repeat again in quiet astonishment. Bucky lets out a small chuckle in response.

“Of course I do, sweetheart,” he reassures you with an adoring smile, “it killed me to be away from you for so long, and I hate that it took us being shot at for me to finally tell you that.”

“I guess we just operate better on chaos,” you weakly joke, smiling when it earns you another laugh out of Bucky.

“It certainly is our specialty,” he agrees with wry grin. Then, tone more serious now as he moves to take one of your hands in his own, he says, “I love you, y/n, and I’d be honored if you would give me the chance to take you out somewhere nice to makeup for this whole mess I put us through.”

With a soft smile, you give his hand a gentle squeeze and answer, “I’d love nothing more.”

And then, in the privacy of the quiet infirmary, Bucky leans in and steals the first of many kisses from you.

| tags: @cjand10 @wamefou @g1g1l @yes-ilovetowrite @greatenthusiasttidalwave @shanksstrawhat @vicmc624 |

[darknight3904]

All Too Well

Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Summary: Your tension with Joel comes to a head as you make a confession that will change your relationship with him forever.

Warnings: Smut 18+ Langauge, oral (F receiving) , one thigh slap, p in v, Joel being super into boobs

Word Count: 3.5k

Previous Part / Series Masterlist / Main Masterlist

July 2024

Joel stands a mere five feet from you. His chest heaves a bit, like he's dashed out of the bar to catch you. His hands rest on his hips as he leans on one leg.

"Didn't anyone ever tell you it's rude to leave a man on the dance floor?"

You look down at the grass and rock back and forth on the balls of your feet.

"Sorry." You say earnestly, "Just needed some air."

Joel shakes his head, "It's alright, sweetheart, Y'just scared me it's all. Thought you might've been getting sick or something."

You shake your head. No, you're not sick. He's considerate to ask though. Ellie had a nasty stomach bug a week and a half ago, you had become her in-home nurse and spoon-fed her thin chicken broth until she could eat solids again.

"You gonna tell me what's wrong then?" Joel asks

You curse him. He always seems to know when something is off with you. Even here in the low light of the streetlights in Jackson, he could see you were thinking.

Yeah, thinking about him.

"It's nothing." You brush him off, "I think I'll just go back home and take a shower. You should go back to the party, though, I bet Tommy misses you."

Joel catches you by the elbow as you go to turn away from him again.

"Now, hold on. It's clear I've upset you, tell me what's wrong." He prods, "Lay it on me, I can handle it."

You scoff. Yeah right. He couldn't handle it in 2003, what made him think he'd be able to accept it now.

"Just let me go." You huff, pulling at your arm

"No, Not 'til you tell me what's wrong." Joel's grip tightens, not enough to bruise, but firm enough so you feel his fingers leaving indents in your skin.

You struggle again for a moment before relenting. Fine, if he wanted to know, he was going to know. No sense in hiding it until one of you dies or gets munched on by a Clicker.

"It's you, Joel." You say

"Me?" He asks, dropping your arm, confusion taking over his stupidly handsome face.

"You're the fucking problem." You point your finger into his chest for good measure, "Giving me all these nicknames and letting me sleep in your bed. You're under my fucking skin and I can't get over you."

Joel is looking at you like you've lost it. Good, maybe if he thinks you're crazy, he'll leave you alone, and you can get over him.

"You don't like it when I do those things for you? Want me to stop, cuz I will." Joel says, his anger beginning to rise to meet yours.

You groan, deep down, you really don't know what you want. Maybe you do. God, it was all so fucked up, falling for him again, you were losing it.

"No! I just...I don't..." You huff, wrapping your arms around your body, "I can't keep going like this. Pretending like it's all platonic because it's not."

Here goes nothing, no taking this one back.

"I'm in love with you, Joel. I'm fucking obsessed with you, and your nicknames, teasing, and constant worry over me aren't helping."

Joel is quiet as he takes it all in, you can practically see the gears turning in his head. You squeeze your arms around your body, digging your fingers into your arms til it burns.

"I-I know you dumped me for a reason, I get it, I do." You stammer, "I can get over my feelings again, I'll do it again, I swear..."

Joel finally finds his voice as he gives you a one-word reply, "No."

You ignore him and continue your warpath, "Look, let's just pretend I never said any of this, okay. I'll move back to my house and we can keep being friends."

Your voice practically dies in your throat as you add, "Please, just don't...leave me again."

"I'm not goin' anywhere." Joel sighs deeply and takes a step forward. His natural scent invades your nose as he takes your face in his hands.

"You're crazy, y'know that, girl."

"If you're gonna ridicule me, you can let go and do it further away." You huff in annoyance. You'd just laid your soul bare for this man, and the first thing he does is call you crazy. The audacity he had.

"Now, let me finish." He says sternly

"You can't take your confession back," A small smile plays on his lips. "Because I am just as fucking obsessed with you, baby."

You scoff, yeah, right, he was fucking with you. Joel's thumb runs a soothing path across your cheek,

"I'm not lying, scouts honor." He says

"You weren't even a boy scout." You remind him. thinking back to what you knew about Joel's childhood.

"Hmph, you're right about that one," Joel gives you a coy smile, "Guess I'll just have to show ya then,"

His voice drops a bit and you swear your heart skips a beat,

"Let me show how fucking in love with you I am, baby..."

Before you have a chance to blink, his lips are brushing yours. Your eyes flutter shut, and you tilt your head a bit to deepen the kiss. Joel lets out a deep groan when your hands come up to brush through the hair at the back of his neck.

Joel pulls back to rest his forehead against yours, "Still think I'm lyin' to ya?"

A giggle escapes your lips as you shake your head, and he steals another kiss from you.

"I was in love with you again the moment I saw ya shoveling horse shit when I first got here." He confesses, "Couldn't believe you were still alive."

You snort and pull back from him to look him in the eye, "Cuz the overalls and rubber boots I wore are so attractive. Besides, if you were so into me again, why'd you say you didn't know me to Ellie?"

Joel's eyes soften as he takes in your determined look, you want the truth, not some half-assed excuse.

"I dunno," Joel mumbles, his eyes dropping down to the neckline of your dress.

You scoff as he looks away, here he is not owning up to anything.

"Are you fucking kidding me, Joel? You're a fuckin-"

"I'm sorry." He blurts out, "For all of it. I'm sorry for dumpin' ya before the world ended, I was a real dick, baby. Mailing your shit back like that. I shouldn't have done that."

You hum, in acknowledgment, looking up into his deep brown eyes.

Joel leans in and presses a kiss to your forehead, "Shouldn't have said I didn't know ya to Ellie when we got here either, don't know what I was thinking."

"I get it, if ya change your mind. I'll let you go, just say the word and I'll let you go, I swear. You deserve better than I can offer anyway, I had my chance and blew it already."

You shake your head, no you don't want that.

"What part of I'm fucking obsessed with you, don't you get?" You breathily ask, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips.

Joel smiles, basking in your forgiveness. Here you were, finally standing in front of him, your feelings laid bare to each other. It's a small step, just letting your fears of the past go yet you feel infinitely lighter now, wrapped up in him.

Your hands fiddle with the buttons on his shirt and curl into the soft fabric. You suddenly feel unbearably hot but you get it now, why love drove so many people mad. Joel's soft gaze on you had your chest buzzing with and excitement you couldn't quite name.

"You wanna go back to your house?" You ask hopefully

"You mean our house?"

"Right, our house." You softly correct yourself

Joel gives you a nod and a smile, Course I do, darlin' lead the way."

You and Joel nearly faceplant three times as the two of you fumble your way up the steps to your shared bedroom. Joel catches you after you stumble over a pair of his discarded jeans from earlier.

"I'll clean that up," Joel says apologetically, kicking them to the side.

"Later." You breathe as his lips tickle the soft skin on your neck

"Later." He parrots with a smile into your skin

You let yourself fall onto the bed, welcoming it's softness and the way it smells of Joel. Before you can miss him, he's hovering over you, stealing kisses from your lips and letting his hands begin to wander across your form.

"Fuck..." Joel sighs as his hands squeeze at your chest.

"You alright up there?" You tease, he sounds so utterly wrecked and you've barely begun.

Joel gives you a playful glare, "You don't fucking know how long I've been waiting to feel these, baby. Been thinking about it since we went to that Macy's."

"My bra shopping got you going, huh?" You tease

Joel grumbles in annoyance and presses a kiss to the skin of your collarbone,

"You're real mean, y'know that."

"You poor baby," You laugh, throwing his nickname back at him, "You'll be alright."

You want to tease him some more, he's so easy to make fun of like this. Your words die in your throat when Joel presses his knee against your core through your dress.

"Not laughing anymore," Joel notes as he fixes his attention on your neck, his hands pulling your cardigan off your body.

Your hands undo the buttons of the shirt he's been teasing you with all night, and you push it off his broad shoulders. Finally, at long last, his torso is all yours to admire.

"Quit staring." Joel orders, "Nothin' there to admire."

"I beg to differ." You smile

Joel scoffs as he leans down to let his lips capture yours as hands roam up your back, searching for the zipper to your dress. Your resolve loosens as your hands curl against the soft skin of his chest, fuck you were really going to do this.

The loud hiss of your still zipped dress as you break the kiss, your eyes begin to swim with fear. That's right, sex with Joel also meant being naked with Joel.

"You want me to stop?" Joel asks, freezing

"No, I don't." You honestly say, "I just..."

"Take your time," Joel says, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips, and then to your cheek

Your breaths come out shaky as you speak again, "Just scared you won't like what you see. I don't look like I used to."

"Are you fucking with me?" Joel laughs

"No." You groan, thinking of how your scars ruined your skin, and how age had filled your curves out.

"Baby, you could be neon green under this dress, and I wouldn't care." He presses a kiss to your cheek, "l love your scars, I promise."

Your face warms in embarrassment, how did he say stuff like that so easily, "You haven't even seen them yet."

"Don't gotta," Joel promises, "They're a part of you, I know I'll love them."

It isn't much just a simple sentence, but that's all it takes for fear to be banished from your mind as you smile up at him.

"Take my dress off, Joel." You say

"Yes, ma'am." Joel teases as his fingers find the zipper once more.

Joel pulled your dress from you, delighting to see that you'd forgone a bra with said dress. His hands ran over the raised pink lines and gently caressed your hips and soft belly.

"Even prettier than the last time I saw ya." He assures

Your clothes disappeared onto the floor as Joel disappeared from above you, only to reappear between your thighs, kneeling in front of you. One big hand snuck between your legs as he teased you through your panties. His fucking mouth locked onto the skin of your thighs whispering dirty things into the skin there.

Bold as ever, he slipped his hand under your panties and let his thumb brush over your sensitive clit while two fingers slipped lower and teased your hole.

"Fucking soaked." Joel comments as you blush, "Can I take these off?"

You nod, eager to get out of the suffocating underwear.

Without the restriction of clothing, he was able to latch his mouth to your needy clit. His fingers teased your slit as he ran them along the soft flesh there, teasing but never entering.

"Joel..." You gasp, your hand wrapping around his wrist, unsure if you want him to stop or keep going.

"All mine." He whispers as you cry out, your orgasm washing over you quicker than you expected, your hips nearly flying off the bed. It'd been so long since you felt pleasure like this.

Joel straightens up and rejoins you on the bed, lying beside you as he runs a hand across the scars on your belly, murmuring something about them being beautiful.

"Can we keep going?" You ask breathlessly, looking over at his handsome face

"Course we can." He smiles, sitting back up

You hum in delight as his hips lift and he pulls his pants off, finally exposing the rest of his body to your greedy eyes. The softness of it all, god you fucking loved him.

Joel shook his head a bit as you pulled his boxers down, letting his cock out, "Greedy."

"Can you blame me?" You giggle

The hiss he let out when you ran your fingertips along the head had you dizzy with lust. Joel repositions so he's above you and his lips ghost over your nipples, teasing them with his tongue as he lifts you up so he's notched at your entrance.

"Wait." You say as he pauses above you

"What's wrong?" Joel asks, concerned, his eyes never leave yours

"I just, um," God, this was embarrassing, but he had a right to know, "Dr. Hill did an exam on me a few years back. Said I have a lot of scar tissue inside, so don't be upset if I can't y'know...cum."

"We'll go slow, alright. If it hurts or something is off, you tell me and I stop, okay?" His voice laced with concern

You nod and grip at his forearms, grounding yourself to him.

"Words, baby. Let me hear 'em," Joel says softly, refusing to move without your permission

"I wanna keep going." You say honestly

A gasp escapes your lips when he enters you. He was big, you knew it, you had seen it just seconds ago, yet it still surprised you as he pushed forward, just barely inside

"Fuck..." Joel gasped above you, his hands gripping the pillows beside you

You grimace when he shifts again, pushing more of him into you. Fuck, the doc told you this would hurt, but this bad?

"Need me to stop?" Joel asks worriedly when he sees your face

That's the last fucking thing you want.

"Keep going." You say, determined to see this through.

Joel looks at you, concerned yet he inches forward, letting out ba soft groan under his breath.

Slowly but surely you get there, letting him inside as pain slowly becomes pleasure. His fingers toy with your clit as you squirm under him. What he does next though, it has you nearly passing out from how hot it is. Joel fucking Miller leans down just a bit and actually spits on his cock.

"You're insane." You comment

"You love it," Joel says, stealing your lips in a kiss that's nothing but spit and teeth.

Joel begins to move, soft and slow at first before you demand more from him. You moan as you feel yourself growing even wetter, between his spit and your own arousal, it's actually begun to feel really fucking good.

Joel's hips slam into yours as he finally gives in to your begging for faster and harder.

"This what you want, huh? Is it?" He asks, leaning down to your ear, pressing your thighs up towards your chest a bit.

"Yes!" You yelp when his hand smacks at your inner thigh

"Such a good fucking girl..." Joel mutters as his hips begin to stutter when you tighten around him

"Joel!" You warn, fuck your stomach feels tight, no way is he actually going to get you to cum.

His hips backward, and your jaw drops into a silent moan as he enters again, this time with his thumb teasing your clit.

"C'mon, let go." Joel coerces, "Know you wanna."

You groaned as your orgasm rolled over you, your eyes slammed shut as Joel sucked a hickey onto your chest.

"Fucking hell!" He gasped, freeing himself from you before cumming all over your tummy.

Joel presses a kiss to your damp forehead before dropping himself onto the mattress beside you. Your heart squeezes when he scooches towards you, resting his sweaty head in the valley between your breasts.

"You okay?" You ask softly

"Am I okay?" Joel laughs into your skin, "Are you okay?"

"I'm okay." You smile, running a hand through his greying curls atop his head.

Joel lets out a soft hum and presses a kiss to one of your nipples,

"Hungry? Thirsty? Sore?" He asks, apparently ready to provide a world of aftercare despite looking exhausted himself

You wiggle your hips a bit, testing the waters. A twinge of pain shoots through your belly, and you grimace. It had felt so good, yet your body was punishing you anyway.

"Sore." You softly admit, kissing his head, "And kinda sticky."

You motion to the cum that is drying on your body

Joel shifts so he can get a better look at you, examining the way your face is pinched together as your thighs shift again before looking down at your dirty skin.

"I'll run us a bath. " He offers, "Get us some food while I'm at it too."

You nod as he disappears, naked as the day he was born, to run you a bath and get food.

You snort when he returns, clad in your bathrobe you had hung up in the bathroom on your hook, he wipes at your stomach with a warm wash cloth.

"I look good, no?" He asks gesturing to his body

"It's up for debate." You laugh

Joel scoops you up, bridal style, and walks towards the bathroom, "Well, I happen to think I look fabulous."

The bath is perfectly warm, even smelling like the lavender bath fizzes you keep for special occasions. Joel lowers you into the tub before turning to sit on the closed toilet, a plate with crackers and cheese balanced in his hands

"Get your ass in here." You say before he has a chance to sit down fully

"You sure?" Joel asks

"You just fucked me for the first time in two decades and now you're asking to take a bath with me?" You say

Joel sets the food on the edge of the rub, unties the robe, and climbs in. He fidgets nervously as you lean back into his chest.

"You nervous, Miller?" You ask, feeling the way his breath stutters a bit.

"We've never done this before." He points out, "Not even back then."

You hum in acknowledgment, "Lucky you, I guess."

Joel laughs a bit as he links his arms securely around your middle, hands brushing the underside of your breasts, "Lucky me, indeed."

"Would you leave them alone?" You laugh as he squeezes the flesh

"Can't. " Joel mumbles, pressing a soft kiss on your neck, "I missed them."

"Pervert." You say softly

You and Joel sit in the bath til it goes tepid, feeding each other crackers and cheese, and basking in each other's company. Then, he coaxes you to your feet and washes both of you under the steam of the shower.

Now, you were wrapped around him in bed, listening to the crickets chirp. Your eyes are beginning to droop when he speaks,

"I'm sorry," Joel says

"I'm not hurting that much, Joel." You say sleepily into his bare chest.

"No not that. Well, yes that. But I'm sorry for dumpin' ya before the world ended."

You hum, "Mmm. It's alright, I forgive you, remember?

"I know, I just..."

"I forgive you." You softly say, scooting closer to him

Joel presses a kiss to your forehead, "You're too good to me. I'm an ass, I know that."

Joel yelps when you pinch his side.

"Glad you're self-aware." You laugh

"I got real scared back then. Thought I was fucking your life up by sticking around." He admits

"Right, cuz dating a 35-year-old at 24 was the worst thing to ever happen to me" You joke

"No!" Joel protests, "You know what I mean."

You nod, you do know what he means.

"Don't have to be scared anymore." You say quietly

Joel hums and chuckles a bit, rubbing a soothing circle into your back as you lay here with him under the covers.

"No, I don't. You're all mine." He declares

You shift a bit, shuffling so you can look him in the eyes, and press a kiss to his lips. Your voice comes out confidently, as you say something you've wanted to say for so long now,

"Yours."

Here we are...at the end. Hope you all enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed writing it. I am very busy right now, but I may write more for these two later.

Thank you all for reading and following this story as it progressed. If you'd like, leave me some comments with feedback!

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[moonstruckme]

love of my life, queen of all things smut and marauders..........I have a request if you don't mind 😈 I was thinking of this with Sirius, but it could truly be whoever you think fits. But what do you think of a fic where reader x Sirius have sex for the first time (FWB, relationship, whatever fits the vibe), and Sirius finishes and moves his attention to reader who goes "oh it's alright, I've never been successful at that part of sex before...." & then it becomes this fun challenge for Sirius who spends the rest of the evening finding out what works for her until he finally gets her off 😃 xoxoxoxooxoxoxo

Thanks for the request and for weathering the long wait gorgeous Elle <3

cw: smut mdni, reader is afab and has trouble with orgasming

fwb!Sirius x fem!reader ♡ 1.2k words

“Fuck.” Sirius’ forehead crashes into yours, his breath hot on your lips. “Are you close?” 

“You should come.” Your voice is tight, strained, though not nearly so much as his. 

“Not before you.” 

“Please, Sirius.” You both moan as he thrusts deeper inside you, your legs squeezing tight around his middle. “Please, I want you to.” 

“I don’t—shit.” 

His brow tenses along with the rest of him as he spills into you. You feel the condom fill up with a heady satisfaction. You run your hands up his back soothingly, until he relaxes into you. 

“Fuck, gorgeous.” Sirius tilts his face to kiss at the slope of your cheek. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think I would…you just feel too good, have you gotten that complaint before?”

You laugh. “It’s not usually a complaint.” 

“No, but in this case…” He tuts, picking his head up to look at you. You expect to be self-conscious—it’s your first time seeing each other like this, and part of you is still fighting the urge to cover up and preserve your modesty—but the heavy drag of his gaze only makes you feel admired. “Well, anyways, sorry. How close are you?” 

“Oh, it’s okay.” You smile at him. Your finger traces the line of a tattoo on his bicep. “Don’t worry about it. I had fun.” 

Sirius blinks, and then his brows come down. “Hold on, that’s not fair. I want to get you off.” 

“Sirius, it’s really fine. I’m not…” You hesitate. You and Sirius have been friends for a while; it’s not as though you haven’t shared secrets before. And given what you’ve just shared with each other, you shouldn’t probably be embarrassed, but… “I haven’t exactly been…successful at that part of sex before.” 

Sirius’ eyebrows furrow as though he doesn’t quite understand what you mean. 

“I haven’t come,” you clarify. 

His eyes widen, lips parting. It’s horrendously attractive, worse with him still inside you. “You haven’t?” 

You shake your head. 

“Not ever?” 

You shake your head again. 

“Not even by yourself?” 

“Let’s just assume the answer to all of these questions is going to be no.” He shifts in you slightly, and you squirm. “Can you…?” 

“Oh. Yeah, sorry.” Sirius pulls out of you, looking somewhat awed. “So, forgive me, but what exactly are you getting out of this if you don’t expect to come?” 

You give him a droll look. “I guess I’m just a giver.” 

It’s more true than you let on. You enjoyed yourself more than you expected just now, watching Sirius come, knowing it was the sight of you and the feel of your flesh under his hands that did it. You hope he lets you do it again.

“I don’t have to come to have good sex,” you say in a more genuine tone. “It’s still fun for me.” 

“Right. Right, yeah, but—” 

“Listen, I’m only telling you so you don’t take it personally. It’s not a you thing, it’s just…” You gesture helplessly. “I’m not sure I can.” 

Sirius looks indignant. “I’m sure you can.” 

“I haven’t found any proof.” 

“Well, it’s—there’s a first time for everybody, doll. Can I try?” 

You sit up, drawing your legs closer and forcing him to sit back. “I told you, it’s not you.” 

“It could be me, though.” He grins roguishly. 

You roll your eyes, fighting a smile. “Don’t make this a pride thing.” 

“I’m not. I’m not, babe.” Sirius scoots towards you. He looks at you, sincere. “But it could be any number of factors, you know? Maybe you just haven’t tried the right thing, or there’s a lubrication issue, or something. It would be fun to try.” 

You rub your lips together. “It’d probably be a waste of time. And I don’t want you to be disappointed if it doesn’t work.” 

“I won’t be,” he promises. He crawls toward you on the bed, taking your ankle in hand to tug you closer. Your heart riots at the sight. “Let’s waste some time, gorgeous. I’ve got nothing else to do tonight. And you said you have fun even if you don’t finish, right?” 

“Right,” you admit. 

Sirius grins, flashing canines. “Lay back, then. Let me play with you a while.” 

It doesn’t take long to figure out that lubrication is not the issue. Between Sirius’ hands and his mouth, you’re spilled like warm honey across his sheets in minutes. He bites marks into your thighs, goes from gentle to masochistic to gentle again with his hands on your breasts, curls his fingers inside you so that you make sounds you don’t recognize. All the while, he calls you sweet names rolled up in taunts, making your cheeks burn and your body seem to give up any will of its own. It begins to feel cruel; the combination of who Sirius is and what he can do to you.

But it’s when he uses his tongue that you start to tremble. 

Your hand clamps blindly down on his shoulder, caught between keeping him close and pushing him away. Sirius’ hum, heavy with smugness and intrigue, is a vibration like you’ve never felt before. He takes your clit into his mouth. 

It’s altogether too much and not enough. You shift your hips, gasping, but after a while your breaths even into a steadier pant. You start to adjust to this new pleasure. Just when you think you’ve got it under control, you’re safe, Sirius slips his wicked fingers into your entrance again. 

“There you are.” His voice thrums with satisfaction as he kisses your clit. “You’ve been so good, sweetheart. So patient.” 

“Sirius, I—”

“What?” 

“I feel—” 

“What, pretty girl?” 

“Sirius.” 

“Okay, I’m sorry. I’m being mean.” He nibbles ever so gently at your clit, making you jolt away from him. Your walls clench around his fingers. “You’re just so much fun when you’re worked up like this, I can’t help myself.” 

He curls his fingers into that torturous spot along your inner wall, and what you want isn’t more sensation, but you can no longer find the words to tell him so. You dig your nails into Sirius’ shoulders and squeeze your eyes shut, feeling on the precipice of something great and terrible. Some kind of wreckage. 

“You’re okay, doll,” Sirius soothes. “You’re just fine. You like this, don’t you? Don’t you want to come?” 

With his low, sweet question, you do. You wreck like a ship against the shoreline. Splintering, screaming, crashing and drowning. Sirius laughs like the enemy vessel as you do.

It’s some time later when the stars clear from behind your eyes. You let out a shuddering breath. “Fuck.” 

“Mhm. That’s usually how it goes.” Sirius is all tenderness now. He kisses up your sweaty, overworked abdomen until he reaches your collarbone, where he nibbles rewardingly. “Good job, sweetness. And good job me, if I do say so myself.” 

You open your eyes to peek at him through your lashes. “Aren’t I supposed to say so?” 

He chuckles, pressing a kiss to your chin. “Fairly sure you just did. I wouldn’t have guessed you had sounds like that in you.” 

“Me neither,” you admit. 

“Well, now I’ve got something new to work towards, I suppose.” 

“Sirius,” you sigh. “That was the first time I’ve ever come, and it took nearly an hour. I’m not sure if I’ll be able to do that again.” 

“Oh, such a defeatist.” Sirius cups your face in his hands, thumbs moving sweetly down your cheeks as he presses a firm kiss to your lips. “I meant getting those sounds out of you again. But don’t worry, gorgeous, we’ll manage both.”

[scoupsakakitty]

Could you do svt finding out reader has been skipping meals while they were away on tour? Like they come back from tour and notices how the s/o is looking?? Lmk if you’re uncomfortable with that

SVT reacting to s/o losing weight/skipping meals

tw: weight loss, skipping meals

S.Coups:

His heart drops the moment he sees you. You look smaller, weaker—your usual glow dimmed. He pulls you into a tight hug, resting his chin on your head. "Did you wait until I was gone to do this to yourself?" His voice is strained, a mix of frustration and worry. He pulls back to look into your eyes. "You think I wouldn’t notice? You’re already perfect. Stop trying to fit into something that will never love you back the way I do."

Jeonghan:

He eyes you up and down, his usual playful smirk nowhere to be seen. Instead, there’s a cold seriousness in his gaze. "Y/N, be honest with me." He crosses his arms. "Did you stop eating just so you could fit some beauty standard?" His voice is sharp, but his hands are gentle when he reaches for yours. "I know how bad this industry can get, but I won’t let you do this to yourself. Not while I’m here."

Joshua:

Joshua sighs, shaking his head as he cups your face. His thumbs brush against your cheekbones, now more defined than before. "This isn't healthy, Y/N." His voice is calm but filled with concern. "You don't have to do this to be beautiful. You already are. The people who make you feel like you aren't? They’re wrong." He pulls you into his arms. "Next time, talk to me, okay? You don’t have to do this alone."

Jun:

Jun doesn’t speak right away. Instead, he sets down his bag and slowly approaches you, his gaze scanning over you carefully. "Did someone tell you to do this?" His voice is quiet, but there’s an edge to it. When you don’t answer, he exhales sharply. "I get it. I really do. But hurting yourself like this… it won’t make you happy." He squeezes your hand. "Please, Y/N. Let’s eat together, okay?"

Hoshi:

Hoshi pouts dramatically at first, pinching your cheek. "Where did all your energy go, huh? You look so tired…" But then, his expression shifts, eyes darkening with worry. "You were waiting for me to leave, weren’t you?" He sighs, shaking his head. "I know what it’s like to be told you have to lose weight to be accepted. But you’re not an idol, Y/N. You don’t have to go through this." He takes your hands in his. "Even if you were… I’d still tell you the same thing: you don’t have to change for anyone."

Wonwoo:

Wonwoo is quiet. Too quiet. He studies you carefully, his sharp gaze missing nothing. When he finally speaks, his voice is soft but firm. "Y/N… why?" He exhales deeply, shaking his head. "I get it. I know why you’d feel this way. But I also know it won’t bring you the happiness you’re searching for." He pulls you into his embrace. "Let me take care of you. You don’t have to do this alone."

Woozi:

Woozi’s jaw clenches the moment he sees you. His hands curl into fists at his sides before he forces himself to relax. "You think I don’t know what it’s like?" His voice is bitter. "To be told you’re not enough unless you fit a mold that someone else decided for you?" He steps closer, his gaze locking onto yours. "I won’t let you go through this alone, Y/N. I know how hard it is to fight it, but you don’t have to fight alone."

DK:

DK’s smile falters the second he takes a good look at you. His usual warmth turns into concern. "Y/N… have you been eating properly?" He already knows the answer, but he wants to hear you say it. When you look away, he gently lifts your chin. "Please don’t do this to yourself. I love you just the way you are." His voice cracks slightly. "I don’t want to see you hurting yourself over something so meaningless."

Mingyu:

Mingyu’s excitement from coming home quickly fades when he sees you. His hands instinctively reach out, brushing against your arms. "You… lost weight." His tone is careful, but his eyes are full of worry. "Did you stop eating while I was gone?" When you don’t answer, he exhales sharply. "Y/N, I love you, but I won’t pretend this is okay. You’re beautiful just the way you are. Please don’t hurt yourself like this."

The8:

His expression is unreadable, but his voice is laced with quiet disappointment. "You’re trying to fit into their beauty standards, aren’t you?" He sighs, shaking his head. "I won’t tell you that it’s easy to ignore them. But I will tell you that it’s not worth it." He gently cups your face. "You’re more than just the way you look, Y/N. Please don’t forget that."

Seungkwan:

Seungkwan is visibly upset, his usual bright energy completely gone. "Did you really wait until I was gone to do this?" His voice is uncharacteristically quiet. He swallows hard, trying to keep his emotions in check. "You think being skinnier will make you happier? That it’ll make you prettier?" He grips your hands. "You’re already the most beautiful person I know. Please don’t do this to yourself."

Vernon:

Vernon furrows his brows, staring at you for a long moment before finally speaking. "You think being thinner will make you fit in more?" He sighs, rubbing the back of his neck. "I get it. I really do. But I also know that it’s not worth losing yourself over." He steps closer, resting a hand on your shoulder. "You’re enough, Y/N. You always have been."

Dino:

Dino immediately frowns when he sees you, his expression unreadable. "You didn’t have to do this." His voice is filled with frustration, but not at you—at the world that made you feel like you had to change. "I know how hard it is to ignore the pressure. But I wish you had talked to me before doing this to yourself." He squeezes your hand. "I don’t care what anyone else says. You’re already perfect to me."

[reiding-writing]

i love ur writing sooo much, kicking my feet giggling as i reread your entire cold!reader masterlist

i think it'd be interesting to see some sexual tension between them 👁️👁️

THE CONVERSATION. — SPENCER REID!

after the hotel incident, you and spencer avoid the inevitable conversation until you can't anymore.

spencer reid x cold!reader | 2.4k | ?? | cold!reader masterlist.

main masterlist.

a/n — not really sexual tension, but definitely tension

The flight back to Quantico is suffocating.

Spencer sits across the aisle, book in hand, but you know he’s not really reading. His eyes flick over the words too slowly, the way they do when he’s using them as a shield rather than taking them in.

You don’t blame him. You’re doing the same thing—staring at the report in your lap, eyes skimming over the same paragraph for the fourth time, pretending you don’t notice the weight of his silence.

He’s quieter than usual. That alone is enough to unnerve you.

You should say something. A joke, maybe. Something dry and dismissive to shove things back into place, back into before. But your body betrays you, tense and unwilling to bridge the gap.

So you sit in it. The not-quite silence, the too-loud hum of the jet’s engines, the unspoken weight pressing into the space between you.

But things have changed.

It’s in the way he looks at you—just a second too long, like he’s cataloging every flicker of your expression, waiting for a signal he’s not sure will come.

It’s in the way you look at him, catching yourself watching the way his hands move when he flips through case files, when he tugs at his tie absentmindedly.

You hate it. The awareness, the sharp pull in your chest when he leans forward to adjust his bag and his knee barely brushes yours. The warmth that lingers too long. The way your own body responds before your mind can shut it down.

He doesn’t push. Of course he doesn’t.

Spencer is patient, careful in the way only he can be. He’s waiting—for you to say something, anything, to acknowledge what happened in that hotel room. But you don’t. You can’t. Because if you start, you don’t know where it ends.

And then there’s the team.

Emily teases, because of course she does. Some offhand remark about how you and Reid have been acting weird ever since the case wrapped up. JJ gives you quiet, knowing glances that make your stomach twist.

And Morgan—well. Morgan just smirks and says, “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say there’s something you two aren’t telling me,”

You brush it off. Pretend you don’t see the way Spencer stiffens beside you, or the way your face feels unnaturally warm.

It’s fine.

Everything is fine.

Except it isn’t, and you both know it.

There’s an awareness between you now. A charged undercurrent in every glance, every movement, every second you spend in the same room.

It starts small. The way you feel his presence before you even see him. The way his gaze lingers when he thinks you won’t notice. The way your body tenses when he gets too close—not in fear, but in anticipation, in something unspoken and unbearable.

So you do what you do best: you bury it.

Your tone stays sharp, clipped, practiced in its indifference. You keep the distance, keep the edge, because that’s easier than acknowledging the way his fingers linger when he passes you a case file. The way they brush against yours, fleeting but deliberate, like he’s testing the boundaries of whatever this thing is.

You pretend it doesn’t affect you.

But it does. It does.

He doesn’t push. Spencer never pushes. But you know he’s waiting.

Waiting for the moment you slip up. Waiting for you to let the mask crack, even just a little. Waiting for you to admit what he already knows—that you feel it, too.

And the worst part?

You almost want to.

The tension is worse when it’s just the two of you.

It sneaks in during the in-between moments—when the rest of the team is occupied, when there’s no buffer, no reason to pretend the air between you isn’t thick with something unspoken.

In the conference room, you hand him a report, your fingers brushing his for the briefest second. He inhales sharply, a quiet thing, barely audible over the rustle of paper, but you hear it. Like it’s the first breath he’s taken all day.

You ignore the way your own breath catches.

In the break room, you’re pouring sugar into your takeout coffee when he walks in. You don’t look at him, don’t acknowledge the way his presence shifts the entire atmosphere of the room. But you feel him. Standing just close enough to press at the edges of your space, just far enough to keep it appropriate.

When he speaks, his voice is softer. Careful. “You should try decaf in the afternoons. Too much caffeine can increase cortisol levels, and you already don’t sleep enough,”

You roll your eyes, sip your coffee anyway. “Noted.”

It’s clipped, controlled. Everything about you is controlled.

But the silences are getting longer.

The pauses between words stretch too thin, stretched tight like a wire pulled to its limit. Every unspoken thought, every question neither of you dares to voice, hangs between you.

One day, something’s going to snap.

—

A week passes, and the tension becomes unbearable.

It’s everywhere. In the hallway, when you walk past each other just a little too close. In the team meetings, when your eyes meet across the table and neither of you look away. In the casual brushes of hands—when your fingers touch for a fraction of a second, a spark you both feel but don’t acknowledge. Every accidental touch lingers too long, and every word is too charged with meaning, too heavy with what’s unspoken.

You hate it. You hate how easily you fall into this strange, uncharted territory with him, how you can't seem to escape the gravity of what happened. And yet, every time you think you’ll address it, every time the words almost slip out, something pulls you back into the silence.

It’s late, way past normal office hours. The rest of the team has long gone home, but you’re still here, hunched over case files with Spencer.

There’s a strange, muted quiet to the space between you, and for once, it’s not just the weight of all the cases you’ve been working on. It’s the weight of this—the silence that surrounds you both, thick enough to choke.

Spencer doesn’t say anything for a long while. You’re both too immersed in the reports, in pretending to focus on the paperwork instead of whatever's hanging between you. But then he puts the file down, leans back in his chair, and the words come, simple and deliberate.

“Are we ever going to talk about it?”

It’s quiet. Too quiet. And the air in the room shifts. You freeze for a moment, caught off guard. Your mind instantly races to shut it all down, to run from the conversation you’ve been avoiding for days.

You open your mouth, prepared to deflect, to push it all back into the vault of things you don’t talk about. But then you meet his gaze.

His eyes are earnest, softer than you’ve ever seen them. There’s hope in them, and maybe something else—something fragile, something vulnerable. He’s not pushing you, not demanding anything. Just waiting.

And suddenly, you realise that you don’t want to run anymore.

You feel it in your chest, that sharp pang of wanting to bridge the gap between you, to close the distance that’s grown between you both over the past week. Maybe you don’t have the right words. Maybe you never will. But for once, you’re not afraid to try.

You swallow hard and finally speak, your voice quieter than usual, rough with the weight of everything unspoken.

“Yeah,” you murmur. “Let’s talk.”

The silence that follows isn’t empty. It’s thick with everything you’ve been holding back. And then—something shifts. The air between you crackles. You both lean in slightly, but neither of you makes a move. Not yet.

And then, without another word, Spencer stands, stepping toward you with that same quiet intensity. It’s a move you didn’t expect, and for a moment, you freeze. But then he’s closer, his breath warm against your skin, and you realize that he’s waiting for you.

Your heart races, but you don’t pull away. Instead, you let him close the distance, and this time, there’s no hesitation.

The kiss is slow. Tentative at first, like both of you are afraid to shatter the fragile moment. But it deepens quickly, and it’s everything—everything you’ve been feeling without knowing how to express it. His lips are gentle but insistent, a soft pressure against yours that makes your pulse spike.

You kiss him like it’s the only thing that matters, because in this moment, it is.

The kiss lingers in the air, charged and unresolved, as you both pull back just enough to catch your breath. You’re still close, too close, your faces a breath away from each other, and the space between you hums with something different. Something new.

You break the silence first, your voice tinged with that familiar edge of sarcasm that you use to shield yourself. “That’s not exactly us talking.”

Spencer freezes for a moment, his expression shifting from confusion to a slight grimace. He knows you’re not exactly serious about it, that the tone you’ve carried throughout the whole exchange has been more about self-preservation than actual disappointment.

But the weight of it still settles on his shoulders, and he winces at the mild reprimand, even though he understands it’s more a defence mechanism than anything else.

“I’m sorry,” Spencer mutters quickly, the apology falling out of him without hesitation. His eyes are a little wider than usual, like he’s bracing for something more, but he also knows it’s not really warranted. You’re not angry with him. You never were.

But the words are enough to make you exhale sharply, and you roll your eyes as you shift back slightly, breaking the proximity just enough for your mind to catch up with everything that’s just happened.

You study him for a moment, watching how his hands twitch slightly at his sides like he’s trying to keep himself together. His eyes are wide, darting between yours, looking for some kind of confirmation.

“I like kissing you… sorry—” he blurts, his voice cracking slightly as the words tumble out in a rush, and then he keeps talking, his words pouring out like he’s finally letting go of the tight grip he’s been holding on everything.

“I’ve wanted to for so long, but I was scared that you wouldn’t be into it. I mean, I’ve seen how you act with me, and I get it, I do, I just—” He stumbles over his own thoughts. “I didn’t want to ruin things between us. You’re—well, you’re you, and I’m me, and I didn’t know if you’d even want that, you know?”

You blink at him, trying to process the flood of words, and for a moment, it’s overwhelming. He’s still standing too close, so you take a step back, crossing your arms defensively as you try to steady yourself.

“Spencer,” you start, your voice gentle but firm, “you need to breathe.”

His eyes flicker at your words, and you see the immediate tension in his face relax a fraction, but only a fraction.

“Listen,” you continue, your voice steady now as you push past the weight of the awkwardness. “I’m not exactly a romantic person, okay?” You can feel the vulnerability creeping in, but you don’t let it overwhelm you.

“I don’t—” You sigh frustratedly. “I don’t know how to do this, or what I’m supposed to say, but… I don’t want you to think I’m rejecting you. I just— I need to know where we’re going with this. And I need to know what you want.”

Spencer opens his mouth to say something but falters, clearly still unsure of how to navigate this strange, new territory with you. You take a deep breath, feeling the space between you growing thicker with every second.

“I need you to be straightforward, Spencer,” you say, softer now. “Just— tell me what you want from this,”

For a moment, Spencer just stands there, eyes fixed on you, as though trying to read between the lines of what you’ve said. And then, finally, his shoulders relax as he nods.

“I don’t want to pressure you,” he says quietly, his voice earnest, “but I do want this. And I want you to know that, even if I’m nervous and all over the place, I’m not trying to make things difficult. I just want to— be with you. If that’s something you’re open to.”

You chew on his words for a moment, and the weight of them hits you all at once. He’s not asking for anything more than what you’re willing to give, and he’s not rushing you, either. The idea of having someone like Spencer—someone who isn’t expecting perfection from you, who’s patient enough to understand your walls—feels almost… safe.

You take a deep breath.

“I’m not good at this. But I don’t want to screw it up either.” You step forward a little, trying to meet him halfway. “I can’t promise all the right words or the grand romantic gestures, but if you’re okay with that…” You pause, meeting his gaze squarely. “I’m willing to try.”

Spencer exhales slowly, his eyes lighting up just slightly, the weight of relief crossing his face. He doesn’t move closer, but the air between you feels a little less tight, a little less heavy.

“That’s good enough for me,”

The words settle between you, and for the first time in what feels like forever, there’s no tension—just the quiet understanding of what comes next.

[crheativity]

SUMMARY: Something goes wrong, and you’re in tears. How do the Overblot boys help you?

WARNINGS: Tried to keep things vague but sorry if it’s a lil too specific sometimes. Reader is Prefect. Written under a romantic presumption but could possibly be read platonic. The Hell Word pops up in Leona’s and Idia’s. Book 3, Book 4 and Book 6 spoilers in Leona’s, Jamil’s and Idia’s respectively. I wrote all of these late at night also, so fair warning

NOTES: sorry it’s been a while, life go brr. This is heavily self indulgent, and sorry if it’s OOC. Might do the others (First, Second & Third years) if enough people want it. 

Also, if you like this, please feel free to check out my Valentine’s Day Event!

He hesitates for a moment, hands hovering beside you as he thinks carefully about what to say. As he speaks, his voice begins to shake. 

“Thank you for trusting me of all people with your feelings and circumstances. I… I am so, so sorry, Prefect. I’m-- I wish I was good at this - there are no rules for comforting someone you care about - but I’ll do my best. I— I can’t imagine what it’s like, going through what you’re going through. What you’re about to be going through. But— of course, all of Heartslabyul and I are at your disposal. Anything, anything at all that would bring you a moment’s comfort or peace, please come to us. I— all of us care about you deeply. Please tell us what to do to assist.”

If you want it (and are willing to excuse a slightly flustered Riddle), he’ll give you a tight hug, trying to convey how much he cares about you. He hates that he struggles to talk about things like this. For you, he’ll do anything. Anything to bring your rosy smile back. And if anyone dares oppose him? Heads will roll. 

He’s been strangely quiet during your explanation, venting, tears - all of it. He waits until you’re finished - and then a moment longer, to consider his words. He reaches up to dry your tears. With his spare hand, he takes yours and pulls you a little closer, speaking in a low, gentle voice. 

“Oi, Herbivore, c’mere. It’ll be alright, you hear? You’re strong, shameless and crafty. Hell, you give that Octotwerp a run for his money. If you gotta fight tooth and claw to get through this, then I’ll fight with you, okay? Just— no more waterworks for now. Yeah, it sucks. But you’ve cried about things, so now you should have the strength to get up and stick through them. If that’s all you can manage, I’ll get Ruggie to take care of the rest. Just don’t push yourself right now, ‘kay? Good, now rest. You’ll need it after a sob-fest like that.“

He pulls you into a surprisingly gentle hug, rubbing circles on your arms. After a while, he’ll ask if you want to nap with him. Once you fall asleep, he’s calling Ruggie and making plans. No way in hell are you dealing with more than you have to. He’ll fight for you himself if he has to. 

Hearing the pain, the anguish and the tears in your voice, he has to fight back tears himself. He hesitantly reaches out for you. Pausing for a moment, he begins to speak, voice filled with emotion. 

“This is— I’m very, very sorry, Prefect. You do not deserve to go through this— any of this. Should you request anything at all, the Mostro Lounge will provide, free of charge, of course. If there is anything we— I— can do to ease your burdens, please do not hesitate to ask. The world can sometimes be a deeply flawed, unfair place. I wish that I had the power to better shield you from this side. I’m truly, very sorry, Prefect. Please know that I— we care about you. This world is a far better place for your presence in it. Please, let us return the favour for you.”

He (with permission) gently pulls you into a hug, holding you as though you were glass. He was going to find who- or whatever caused you to hurt like this and make their pitiful existence miserable. Those poor, unfortunate souls. 

As you confide in him, Jamil seems to turn strangely quieter than usual. His solution oriented mind begins to whir, thinking about what he can do to help, the logistics of it, etc. Your sniffling snaps him back into reality. Putting solutions aside for now, he reaches for your hands and squeezes them gently, offering you a small, sad smile.

“Hey, everything will work out. It sucks right now, obviously, but in a while, it’ll all be okay. That’s just the way life goes, for some reason. World shattering events can happen, but time marches on anyway. It’ll always drag you with it, too. What I mean is that because you’ll be okay eventually, it can help you be okay now. I guess. And we at Scarabia are always here for you, okay? Kalim’s… Kalim, and I’m always here for you if you need to vent or complain or if you need help. I’m never too busy if it’s you, alright? Just don’t bottle it up… that works out well.”

He smiles a little ruefully at that last comment, then takes off his hoodie and drapes it over you. He tells you to keep it - that way he’s always there with you if you need it. He squeezes your hands and rests his forehead against yours, comfortingly. Jamil wasn’t used to being quite so… hopeful. But you had helped him become better, and he wanted to return the favour.

Vil may be a good actor, but his thoughts were shockingly readable as you vented to him. He seemed to react correctly in all the right places, asking questions but never pressing for answers. When you finish, he gently reaches out and starts stroking your hair. He pulls you a little closer for comfort. He pauses for a moment, then begins to speak.

“I’m so sorry, Prefect. You do not deserve this - any of this. Pomefiore’s students and I are always here for you, no matter the need. Anything you need, it would be our honour and privilege to provide. In times such as these, I find taking care of oneself is extremely important. Not to the extent of perfectionism necessarily, but enough to bring you joy. So please, if it’s not too much trouble, please find one indulgent thing each day. Not something so unhealthy it’d ruin you, but something gentle and sweet. Like a bubble bath, or watching that movie you’ve mentioned wanting to see. It’s important to keep yourself as happy as you can, when life is attempting to do the opposite. And if you can’t think of anything, then please, come to me. Let me take care of you.”

He then, with permission, sweeps you into the biggest, comfiest, warmest hug you’ve ever experienced (Ghibli-style), and stays that way until you move. He wants to do so much more for you. He knows where you’re at, and, being the kind of person you are, he trusts you’ll know what’s best for yourself. He only hopes you let him take care of you, too.

Bro was low key in panic mode. What the hell is he supposed to say/do??? He really, really can’t afford to screw this up. He’s pretty sure he’d get a -1000 debuff to his Charisma stats if he doesn’t say the right thing. Usually, he wouldn’t particularly care if it was just some NPC he had to comfort - but this is the protagonist we’re talking about! And Ortho’s not here, just his luck! He sighs and his mind races back through every Otome/VN game he’s played and every shoujo romcom to figure out what in Twisted Wonderland he’s supposed to say.

“Uhh, that’s not very… plus ultra? Shoot, I mean-... That sounds really tough. I’m sorry, Prefect… Stuff like that is rough… I’m, uh, not the best person to go to for advice. Not particularly known for my ability to… handle stuff. mentally. But uh, I’m always here for a distraction if you need. That’s what I typically do. Distract until you don’t feel anymore haha… but uh, that’s probably not a good thing. Still, though. I’m always happy to play games or watch anime with you.. Or something. Those are my favourite things, not necessarily yours. We don’t have to. It’s honestly enough just to hang out with you… ugh, that was cringe, wasn’t it?”

Once you assure him that it was very much not cringe, he sighs in relief and gives you a small, soft smile - not an expression you’ve seen often on him. He reaches over and pulls out two controllers, throwing one to you. He boots up a game, commenting how he’s not gonna go easy on you just because you’re sad. You wouldn’t have it any other way.

You cautiously ignore the thunderstorm brewing outside as you vent to Malleus about your problems. You carefully construct your words and phrases, to protect Sage Island from month-long hurricanes. After you finish, Malleus asks if you are comfortable with physical affection. With consent, he pulls you into a hug. 

“Apologies, Child of Man, I am not familiar with methods of comfort. I will do my best - I only ask for your leniency if I say something wrong, and for you to understand that all I say is with the best intentions. I want you to know that I care about you. I believe it is important for those going through difficult periods of time to know where they have true friends. No matter what, Child of Man, I wish to be counted among those. If I am, and with your permission, I will enact all I can to assist you through and out of these situations. I only ask your patience. I promise, I will do whatever you require during this time. Only speak my name, and I will be there.”

Malleus continues to hold you gently, unsure about what to do or say from here, other than gently repeating he’s here for you. He stays there with you until you are ready to move on, then takes you for a walk around campus. And this time, he’ll only go on two tangents about gargoyles you pass.

♥Thank you for reading!! I hope you enjoyed it!!♥

[aleskie]

JUST DRINK THE DAMN WATER | Quinn Hughes x Reader

Summary: You've always tried to not be a nepo-partner. But when you're sick? Quinn throws all that out of the window. After all, you deserve only the best for your stay at the hospital!

Warnings: None!! Just Quinn being a lil (a lot) over protective when you get sick. Author's Note: Requested by my sweet @sweetestcaptainhughes MWAH MWAH

Oh Captain, My Captain Coming home late tonight.

Have you eaten?

Did you drink water at all today? 

Just so we're clear, Coffee is a liquid but it is NOT water. Same thing with tea. 

Also, get some rest. I know you barely slept last night trying to finish up work.

Take care of yourself.

I love you :)

Heart ♥️ I will drink water :D

And get some rest ;p

Thank you :>>

I love you too!

Let's be honest here.

You did not drink water. No rest either, too focused on finishing deadlines.

And that's how you ended up in Quinn's car enroute to the hospital.

You were pretty sure he broke every traffic rule trying to get you there, but you were too delirious to make sense of anything.

There were flashes—headlights streaking past, the sharp sound of honking, Quinn muttering curses under his breath. His knuckles were white against the steering wheel, gripping it so tightly it looked like he was trying to keep the entire world from falling apart. Everything blurred together, a mess of fragmented memories you couldn’t quite piece together. Then—hospital lights, the sterile chill of the emergency room, the sharp sting of antiseptic in the air. Unfamiliar hands everywhere, pressing, prodding, asking you questions you couldn’t answer to, trying to assess you. 

But through it all, there was Quinn.

You could hear him above everyone else, snapping at nurses, demanding someone check your vitals. You see a brief scene of him hovering so close they had to physically push him back. He only relented—barely—when they hooked you up to an IV, but even then, his eyes stayed locked on the bag, on the heart rate monitor, almost as if he didn’t trust them to do their job fast enough.

You see him pacing, checking your chart, running a hand through his already messy hair before he all but rips open the curtain to leave the small station they’d set up for you in the emergency room. You hear faint voices coming from outside as he pries them for updates. You hear muffled sounds of him pulling rank when they enter the room. Leveraging whatever he could to get information out of them until someone actually listened. Until they moved quicker, until you got better faster.

“C’mon, I’ll get you guys good tickets to the next Canucks game—just get them in a room.”

“Sir, we’re doing the best we can, but the combination of dehydration and exhaustion isn’t something to overlook. Especially with a fever starting to set in.”

Quinn groaned, a sound of pure impatience. “Then at least get them out of this damn hallway. Somewhere quiet where they can actually rest.”

“I’ll see what I can do, but I can’t guarantee anything.”

More muffled voices. A heated back-and-forth. You couldn’t focus on it, the exhaustion pulling you under.

The next thing you knew, you were moving. Or maybe the bed was.

Where? You didn’t know. But sleep was already dragging you down before you could figure it out.

Finally, finally, your eyes flutter open. The room is hazy, the fluorescent lights buzzing faintly above you, but you're awake. Awake enough to function.

“Quinny,” your voice is hoarse, barely above a whisper, but it’s enough. He’s at your side instantly, like he was just waiting for a sign, any sign, that you were still with him.

His touch is gentle, the back of his hand brushing your forehead, checking for any lingering fever before his fingers find yours. He links them together like he’s afraid to let go, pressing a firm kiss to your knuckles. Like he needs the contact to ground himself.

“Jesus Christ,” he mutters, his voice low and strained. “Don’t do that again.”

You blink up at him, still dazed, but the sheer worry in his expression makes your chest ache. His jaw is tight, shoulders tense like he’s still running on the adrenaline of getting you here. Like he hasn’t let himself breathe properly until now.

“Come here,” you murmur, barely able to lift your hand, but reaching for him anyway. “Please.”

He exhales sharply, like he wants to argue, but one look at you, and it’s over. He doesn’t hesitate, just climbs into the impossibly small hospital bed without a second thought.

It wasn’t meant for two people, but he makes it work, shifting until you’re tucked against his chest, his arms caging you in, careful of the IV in your arm. You feel the weight of his body, the warmth of him, and suddenly, everything feels a little less cold.

“They didn’t even want to give you a proper bed,” he huffs against your hair, his grip tightening like he’s afraid you’ll disappear again. “Had to make a fucking scene.”

You smile weakly, pressing your cheek against his hoodie. “Of course you did.”

Quinn lets out a breath, finally, finally relaxing for the first time since you collapsed. His fingers trace absentminded circles on your back, soothing, grounding. “Next time, just drink the damn water,” he mutters, and you can almost hear the pout in his voice.

“And get some sleep,” he adds, softer this time, like he knows you’re already slipping under again.

You hum, your body melting into his, exhaustion pulling you under. But as long as his arms are around you, you figure you’ll be okay.

[kurooangel]

⊹ ࣪ ˖ JUST WANNA BE THE GIRL YOU LIKE .ᐟ

★ featuring: kuroo tetsuro.

★ synopsis: tetsuro and his love for teasing his pretty girl before fucking her dumb <3

★ content warning: smut. timeskip haikyuu. f!reader. older!kuroo. reader on her early twenties and kuroo's on his thirties. dry humping. fingering. oral (f!receiving). raw sex. english isn't my first language, please be nice ☹💐. masterlist. wc: 1.7k

that morning was hotter than usual. it was summer, of course, but in the heat of july all you want is lay on your bed with the air conditioner while you're eating ice cream and watching a movie. you were doing exactly that, having the time of your life, until your boyfriend arrived. you knew he was playing volleyball at the beach with atsumu, bokuto and a few more friends, but you haven't expected him to come back like that. he is shirtless, with his tank top on his shoulder, and his pants are hanging low on his hips. his usually tan skin a bit tanner than it usually is and his upper body is with a thin layer of sweat that makes him glow. you would eat him if he was edible. "hey, sweetheart" he leans in to give you a quick kiss and steal you some ice cream. "I guess you're doing great without me, babygirl" he chuckles, and you laugh as well. "feels good not having a sweaty man clinging to me" you tease, his eyebrow arching. "that's why you were starring at me when I came in?" he retorts back, and you can't help but chuckle. he approaches and hugs your waist, pulling until you're sitting down on the bed instead of laying. his fingers running over your body, tracing patterns, as he leans to kiss you. it starts soft, but you quickly deepen it. you can't help it, not when he looks so good — less when he chuckles, a dark and mocking sound, in the kiss. he leans forward and his body hovers over yours, hands resting on each side next to your head to not crush you with his huge body. "on four" he growls, breaking the kiss for a moment. his amber eyes have its pupils dilated and he is looking at you with want. you snort mockingly yet you oblige, your shirt slides down your arched back, revealing that you're wearing panties. without. pants. oh the groan he lets out after seeing that.

and after that, there it is — kuroo and his stupid, teasing smirk. he knows what he's doing, grinding his bulge against your wet underwear while you're on four, whining and begging for his dick. your moans start filling the bedroom and his growls accompanying them with his damn words on your ear. "you're so desperate, baby, so damn needy. waiting for me on this precious panties" he gently bites your earlobe and a guttural moan escapes his throat when you push your core against his covered hardness, his hazel eyes darkening as your back arches more, seeking for kuroo to finally fill you. his cock twitches in his boxers, and he has to close his eyes to not cum in his underwear like a fifteen-year-old.

a harsh smack lands on your ass, his callous fingers grabbing the flesh after you gasp and look at him over your shoulder. "tetsu!" you moan, and his amber eyes lock with yours. "move like that again, babe" he growls, big hand moving up to grip your neck as he flexes his body, hovering over yours. "holly shit! tha-thats's it, gorgeous" his forehead rests against your nape and he starts thrusting his hips against yours, his covered bulge making you squirm every time it presses against your wet slit. "arch a bit more, pretty girl, lemme play a bit with your clit, 'kay?" kuroo bites his lower lip when you oblige, your face against the mattress and you lift your hips, your back arching and being worshipped by your boyfriend's hands while he lifts his forehead and his upper body is straight again, gripping your waist as he presses your behind against his dick, moving you until he finds your swollen clit. a broken moan leaves your throat when he jerks his hips against that point again and again, head falling back and his eyes shutted meanwhile he gets drunk on the perfect sounds you make for him.

your whine make him snap from his trance. "tetsu, I- I need your dick, please" he chuckles darkly and puts your cute panties to the side, grabbing your thighs and make you spread your legs for him, your wet pussy on full display for him and him only. "what if we start with fingers, huh? will my girl be patient?" kuroo teases, as if he wasn't craving to be hugged by your tight walls — as if his dick wasn't leaking with precum. his fingers run over your slit and pushes two of them inside your hole, stretching out your walls as they clench around them. your back arches even more, chasing your climax as he thrust his two digits inside your eager cunt, his pace so rough and harsh that you can barely handle it. you don't wanna cum so soon, but he makes it so damn complicated.

you know he will mock about how you easily you melt under his touch, even if it drives him absolutely wild. "do you like it, honey? come on, talk to me" his fingers curl inside your gummy walls and your eyes roll back to your skull, manicured nails — payed by him — digging in the sheets of your king sized bed while he keeps thrusting his fingers inside you. "y-yeah, tetsu! just- keep going" you whine. despite the burn on your lower stomach, a part of you doesn't want to cum. doesn't want this to finish, even if you know this is just the start. he starts scissoring before adding a third one, and his other hand squeezes your thigh before caressing your clit. a shiver runs down your body and your legs falter. that's when you feel the climax washing over you, and a dark chuckle can be heard from behind you. "that's it, babe. give it to me" he starts drawing circles on your bud and you whine. "tetsuro, p-please! I need... I need to be filled, please" you beg, but a loud moan leaves your throat when he runs his tongue over your slit, ignoring your plea. he grips your hips and flips you so you're laying on your back. "spread 'em a bit more, baby" he mutters as he dives between your legs, no mercy with your pussy.

his hands move to your thighs and grabs them tightly after you oblige his order. you bite your lower lip and your hand tangles with his dark hair, moaning when he sucks on your clit. he is so messy — and it's hot as hell. the sounds of his sloppy kisses on your pussy as his saliva mixes with your juices are music to your ears. he is practically making out with your dripping cunt, his eyes closed as he hums against your core, his tongue eating you and thrusting inside you, your mind starting to feel fuzzy. he growls and bites lightly your clit, your legs trembling and your back arching off the mattress, causing his callous hands to caress so softly your thighs — a high contrast of how rough he is eating you out.

his tongue leaves your pussy, an empty feeling tries to settle in your chest, but he quickly pushes it away by tracing sloppy kisses upwards. he stops on your stomach, muttering against your skin "you know... you'd look so good pregnant". he looks up at you after whispering that and his amber eyes lock with yours, full of lust yet with a hint of vulnerability. he grins and keeps worshipping you, his kisses reaching your chest, making him growl when he catches one with his mouth and starts sucking on it. one of his hands leaves your body to pull down his boxers, a moan leaves his mouth against your hard nipple when his fat and veiny cock is finally out. he pulls away from your breast, a tiny string of his saliva still connecting both of you, before he aligns himself and start diving into you. "shit, t-tetsuro!" you shiver, a heated sigh accompanying your words as he hums and put one hand next to your head to support himself. "feels good, babe? cuz for me d-definet— gosh how I missed this pussy" he groans and kisses you deeply, his hips starting to rock against your with a moderated pace yet firmly, his full length stretching you. he catches the pace and your nails dig into his broad back, his muscles tensing under your fingers while he gasps at the mixture of pain and pleasure. kuroo growls when you drag your nails over his back, leaving red marks, and he accelerates the pace. his balls are slamming hard against you as his fat cock reaches that sweet spot that just he knows where it is — and hits it merciless again and again. his roughness and his growled praises make you so damn close, and you know there's not much you can do when he angles you so his pelvis smacks against your clit every single time he thrust into you. and he knows it — the way your moans are louder and you have to bite his neck, leaving sloppy and messy kisses there. he can read you as if you were a book he wrote you himself. he has memorized all of your reactions, every single one. that's why when you arch your back off the mattress, your breasts against his face, and whine "tetsu, I'm coming!" it's not a surprise to him. it's not either for you when he paints your wall with his white seed after you clench him because of your ecstasy.

your body is still shaking when he pulls out, a sigh leaving his mouth when he sees his cum leaking from your hole. "you're so cute, baby. you did so well" kuroo mutters while he kisses your forehead. you cling to him, hands resting on his chest as he responds, pulling you into a tight embrace. "lemme clean you, okay?" he whispers against your hair before he disappears beneath the sheets, spreading your legs again and making you shiver when you feel his tongue run over your slit — again.

[finelinevogue]

pretty boy

summary - the team is out for drinks and people can’t stop hitting on your boyfriend

pairing - spencer reid x bau!gf

word count - +1k

“He’s so hot.”

“Ugh that hair!”

“He is so kissable.”

You had only been at the bar for an hour and you’d already hit your limit for the amount of women that have hit on your boyfriend.

The worst thing about it, is that Spencer is so oblivious to it that you feel silly for being even a little bit jealous.

You were currently at the bar ordering some drinks and were listening to a group of girls lust after your boyfriend, who was currently sitting with the rest of the team in a booth.

“I mean seriously… he looks like he’d know how to please a woman.” One of them said.

You gave the girls a brief look to make sure you weren’t making things up in your head and to your dismay they were all looking Spencer’s way. Curse him for sitting at the end of the booth.

You then looked back to Spencer who was listening intensely to something Rossi was saying.

He did look good. Like, really good.

He’d recently had a haircut that made him look that little bit older, whilst also keeping that youth. Hotch had told him he looked like he was part of a boy-band, which in a way he did. The hot one, if he was.

You loved his new hair. It was so fluffy and soft. Perfect to run your hands through.

It just irked you that other people were thinking the same thing. And so openly.

He was even extra handsome tonight with his work clothes on. It was hot so he had taken off his waistcoat, so it was just his shirt - which he had rolled the sleeves up on - his loose tie and his fitted trousers.

“I’m going to go talk to him.” One of them said, making you tense up.

You wished the bartender would hurry up so you could go back and sit next to Spencer already. You trust Spencer more than anything - but it was these girls you didn’t trust.

“Oh my God. Never mind. He’s coming over here. How’s my hair?”

You thanked the bartender as he placed the drinks on a circular tray in front of you.

The girls were all nervously excited next to you.

Until they weren’t.

Because you felt Spencer slide up behind you, resting one of his hands at the bottom of your spine and the other placed on the bar edge.

“You okay?” He asked, leaning down to kiss the top of your head as you swayed your body into his.

Spencer was standing perpendicular to you so it gave you the opportunity to rest the side of your head on his chest. It allowed you to just breathe him in as if it were just you and him in the room.

You nodded slowly, not really knowing how else to answer.

“Need help with these?” He asked, tapping the tray.

“Please.”

“M’kay. I’ll get these. You grab some straws.”

You were sad when his hand left your back to reach for the tray of drinks. You also really wanted to take Spencer away from these girls though.

Before you could both go back, one of the girls touched Spencer on his forearm and questioned him.

“Excuse me, are you two together?” She asked, only looking at Spencer for the answer. It was almost as if you were invisible.

“Uh, yeah. We are.” Spencer gave a polite smile.

“Oh.” She said, surprised.

Spencer didn’t respond and neither did you. He just smiled before nudging you to keep walking.

Once you were out of their earshot he asked, “That was weird right?”

“Yeah.” It was your turn to give him a small smile this time, keeping your head down as you returned to the booth.

<.><.><.>

The atmosphere had changed.

You had felt good at the start of the night - an hour ago - but now everything felt a little different.

It no doubt had everything to do with the girls that had been surprised that Spencer was dating you. Also it didn’t help that Spencer still looked great and was gaining more and more hungry eyes.

You sipped your drink even though you weren’t interested in having a good time any more. You wanted to be alert in case you needed to be for Spencer’s sake.

“Tell me what’s wrong.” Spencer said.

He was still sat on the end of the booth, but he had one arm tucker over the back of the booth and down around your shoulder to keep you pressed close to him. For someone who was okay with not fully understanding social interactions, he had always done a perfect job of being with you.

The rest of the team were talking and laughing over drinks.

“It’s okay.” You shook your head.

“It’s not if it’s bothering you.” Spencer argued.

“It’s silly.”

You looked from the team to the rest of the bar where people were still looking Spencer’s way.

Damn, why did he have to be so attractive?

You weren’t sure how to approach the subject with Spencer though. He was too sweet to take his gaze off you for even a second to notice how many gazes were on him. It wasn’t even a him problem. Good for him for looking so pretty, but it was just difficult trying to be okay with the extra attention that him being pretty came with.

It sounded so stupid and it didn’t even make sense to you, so it was impossible trying to think of how to bring it up to Spencer.

“Is it the case?” Spencer asked.

You sighed, “No.”

“Did I do something? I feel like that’s quite likely.”

You shook your head, feeling yourself getting worked up about this.

Spencer’s arm pulled you further into his body and his other arm detached from his drink so he could rest his palm on your thigh.

“I’m sorry for ruining your night.”

“You’re not ruining my night. I just don’t like seeing you upset.”

“I know.”

“Well, you tell me when you want to leave and we’ll go okay?”

“Okay.”

<.><.><.>

Spencer was brushing his teeth when you blurted out those three words.

“Sorry if I was weird tonight.” You apologised, finishing off your nighttime routine in Spencer’s apartment.

He mumbled something along the lines of ‘it doesn’t matter’, but it was hard to tell when he had a mouth full of toothpaste.

Your chest heaved heavy breaths as you watched him with adoration.

He looked so soft and homely standing in his bathroom, brushing his teeth in his pyjamas with you. He was just so damn perfect and it was because of that that you had to tell him.

“It was your hair!” You blurted out before you could control yourself.

“Huh?” He questioned with a mouthful of toothpaste still. He took a brief glance to the mirror to check his hair before turning back to you.

“Your hair! I think it’s made you really hot. N-not that you weren’t hot before Spence but- oh my god, what am I saying?” You let out a shaky breath before continuing, “I was jealous okay? Really jealous because everyone at that bar was staring at you like they wanted you and I-I know you and me are— and you would never— and I — but I just…

Spencer spat out his toothpaste.

“Y/N…”

“I couldn’t stop thinking that like you’re mine and what right did they have to chat you up, let alone look at you that way? I mean—.”

“Babe…”

“I love you, okay?!” You proclaimed. You stood there in shock for a moment, not knowing where to take this now that you’d announced that.

“Y/N…”

“I do.” You nodded rapidly, “I do, I really do love you a-and I think it really hit me tonight when I saw you being loved on by all those other women.”

Spencer dropped his toothbrush and took a step towards you.

“All of that tonight was because you love me?” He questioned, trying to wrap his head around this.

“I think so, yeah.”

You pulled the sleeves of your jumper down over your hands as something to fidget with. You were growing nervous now for Spencer to say something.

“Well that makes sense.” He nodded, “I.. I think that means I love you too.”

“Really?” You asked, eyes wide as you watched him figure things out for himself.

“Yeah. I mean… I was frustrated as you sounded at all those men looking at you all night. It was driving me crazy.”

“People looking at me?” You frowned.

“You were the prettiest person in the room.”

“Spence…” You pouted, feeling your eyes tear with happy emotions.

You can’t believe that he had been feeling the exact same as you all this time. All it would have taken was a conversation earlier to talk things through and you both wouldn’t have been feeling so vulnerable.

“I love you, Y/N, even though I’m telling you in the most un-romantic setting.”

“You’re wrong. This is like the most romantic it could be for me.” You smiled and looped your arms around his neck. You felt his come around your waist.

“This?”

“Yeah. You, me and a little bit of toothpaste. That’s all I need to know that I love you.”

“And my hair.”

“Huh?”

“I distinctly remember you talking about how hot my hair was before…” He chuckled and you thumped your forehead down on his chest to escape the embarrassment.

“Stop.”

“No, never. Just like I’m never getting another haircut.”

You lifted your head at that, resting your chin on his chest as you looked up at him with heart eyes.

“I could live with that.” You smiled.

Spencer stayed looking at you for a few moments.

You could tell he was taking a minute to process everything as well as continue to study every little feature on your face. You prompted him to say something when he stared a little too long though.

“Just like seeing you smile. That’s all.” He said.

It was as simple as that.

You both loved each other. You both loved seeing each other smile. To keep that a forever kind of thing you would have to promise communication and accept there’ll be moments of jealousy. Those moments will be made better though when you remind each other that it’s each other you’re going home to.

[sinmartini]

"feels so right but it's just so wrong." // red!clark kent

notes: MDNI 18+ summary: clark kent is usually such a nice guy. what's gotten into him? wc: 1714 warnings: red!clark, face fucking with fingers, implications of oral (m receiving), clark being arrogant, pet names, fem!reader, not proofread.

“You are being so annoying,” Red!Clark told you, rolling his eyes as he tucked himself further into the couch settled in the loft. He had been acting so strange all day, completely unlike the best friend you knew and loved. There was a slight attitude in his tone, irritation radiating off of him, and pelting you with nearly everything that had come out of his mouth. It was almost like you were a human punching bag today; if an unkind thought passed through his head, he was more than willing to say it to you.

“What?” You snapped at him, finally nearing the breaking point. Your eyes pointed up at him, shifting your head in his lap to get a better look at you. It wasn’t uncommon to lay your head on his lap, the rest of your body taking up the other end of the couch. Actually, Clark typically liked it when you two did this together. Even though you were just best friends, there was an intrinsic need for you two to be in touch all the time. Hand holding, platonic cuddling, hugs that lasted a minute too long. Today, though… Today he looked frustrated by the way you were clinging to him, the physical touch he had once loved from you be damned. 

Not only had you just experienced something completely terrible, with Clark swooping in to save you at the last minute yet again, but he was being such a jerk.

“I just never realized how needy and clingy you are. What you did back there was dangerous too. Don’t you have any inkling for self preservation?” Clark’s words were one thing, but his actions were indicative of another as he gently stroked his fingers through your hair. 

Was he wrong? Not really. You were needy and clingy when it came to him, but that’s how it’s always been with the two of you. Hell, he was just as clingy most of the time. That’s what came along with knowing his secret; being one of the only people who actually knew the real Clark Kent. 

“Clark, you know I’d do anything for a story. The Daily Planet isn’t going to promote me if I only write boring headlines. I thought that’s why we work so well together? I can bust a crime ring and you’re always there to swoop in.” You were trying to reason with him now, get to the bottom of what was really going on inside of his head. Ever since this morning, it was like Clark had been stripped from all his inhibitions, most of the qualities that made Clark… Well, Clark, had somehow disappeared.

“Good writers can make a story out of anything,” Clark noted, his fingers still stroking through your hair. “They don’t have to put themselves in constant danger and despair to write a think piece.”

“You don’t think I’m a good writer?” You asked him, trying to lift your head from his thigh, needing to create some space between you and your best friend before he could say something that might kill your spirits all together.

“You could be better,” Clark shrugged, his shoulders lifting and collapsing in one cohesive motion as disinterest flickered across his face. You could tell he was done with the conversation now, dishing out that he didn’t think you were that great at what you do, then ready to move on like you weren’t going to have more questions for him.

It wasn’t often that you cried in front of Clark. On the off chance that you did cry in front of him, it was for good reason, and Clark had never made you cry. Until now. The tears that threatened the corner of your waterline were mortifying, and the more you tried to blink them away, the quicker they began formulating. 

Once more, you tried to move yourself off of his lap, but Clark held you in place. Finally, he looked down at you, his facial expression shifting from disinterest to amusement when he saw the tears spilling down your cheeks. There was no way you could have missed the way his lips curled up, just enough to show he enjoyed the sight of you messy on his lap. And there was absolutely no way to miss the way his eyes shimmered with delight, darkening at the sight of your bottom lip quivering.

“You’re crying? C’mon, it wasn’t that mean,” Clark scoffed as his hand found its way from your hair to your chin, holding your face between his thumb and his forefinger. Vulnerability flooded through you as Clark examined every aspect of your face with such intensity, you wanted to shrink under his gaze.

As you opened your mouth, trying to find the words to let Clark know he had been hurting your feelings all day, it wasn’t just this offhand comment that was contributing to your tears, a small sob released from your chest. The words didn’t come out, only heavier breathing and more tears.

“So fussy,” Clark said, his voice sultry and thick as he gently stroked his pointer finger from your chin to your mouth, placing it between your lips and forcing you to open up. You didn’t know why you were being so compliant with it, but Clark pushed his forefinger and middle finger into your mouth, pressing harshly on the middle of  your tongue and you couldn’t help the moan that stirred. “Let me pacify you.”

Your moans were vibrating off of his fingers as he worked them in and out of your mouth, his gaze fixated on you in a way you had never seen before. It wasn’t just lust that filled it eyes; it was carnal desire, like in this moment he needed you as much as you needed him. At least, that is likely what he wanted you to think.

There was something intrinsically hot about the situation as a whole— you laying there, crying on his lap as he hushed you with his fingers in a way that could be written in an erotica book. Nothing about it felt right, but it didn’t feel wrong either, and you could tell Clark felt the same way by the tent growing underneath his jeans, the length of him pressing against the seat of his pants.

Your mouth salivated at the thought of it, creating more lubricant to slide his fingers in and out of your mouth. His eyes traveled to where you were looking, curious as to what had stopped your tears in their tracks and distracted you. A chuckle, deep from his chest sounded, as he realized how desperate you were for it. Part of him had to know, this whole time, that you wanted him in a way that was less than platonic, right?

“Feels so right but it’s just so wrong,” Clark said, reading your mind as he pushed his fingers in deeper. The tip of his finger hit your gag reflex, causing your head to lurch, but he pushed you back down in his lap. The disinterest that flooded his features less than five minutes ago had completely evaporated, now replaced with sheer and utter amusement.

You were so wet, it was uncomfortable. Your core was dripping with desire, soaking into your cotton panties and clinging to you just enough to overwhelm you. With furrowed brows, you tried to talk around Clark’s fingers, and that prior expression of annoyance had returned once more.

“You’re not supposed to be talking, bunny, that’s the point of this. I want you to shut up.” Clark moved his fingers against your tongue once more, pressing and pushing on the insides of your cheeks, carefully grazing the gag reflex every so often in a teasing gesture. He couldn’t help but taunt you, just a bit.

You made a muffled noise, a whine mixed with a moan. Even with his fingers in your mouth, you were still being fussy.

“What?” Clark asked, his tone full of mockery as he offered a sympathetic expression that you knew to be just another one of his taunts. If you weren’t so turned on, you would be trying to figure out what the hell was going on with him, but right now you were too blinded by desire to care— even if that meant Clark was going to mock you the entire time. “You want my cock in your mouth instead? Can’t promise I’ll be nice.”

Your eyes widened and you frantically nodded around his fingers. He didn’t need to see more before he was unbuttoning his pants as you gently lifted your head to allow him to kick them off.

But as soon as Clark’s pants were off, his expression had shifted completely. The mocking expression was now laced with confusion, the evidence of what you were about to get into pressed against the hem of his boxers. 

It was hard for him to look you in the eyes, and you weren’t sure why the sudden shift in demeanor until he asked you, “can you empty out the pockets of my jeans?”

You moved off the couch, picking up his jeans and shuffling through the pockets, feeling silly with the dried tears on your face and Clark’s seeming lack of interest in you now. In the very bottom of his right pocket, there was one ruby earring. You placed it in your palm, showing it to him and that’s when it hit you both.

“Red kryptonite,” Clark said definitively and you thought you could melt right there. His behavior had a reason behind it, yours was driven by pure desire. “I thought it was a ruby earring. I found it at the Talon and was going to turn it into their lost and found.”

“Oh god,” you said, dropping the earring on the floor of the loft. Your feet were moving down the stairs, bolting for the exit before your brain could catch up with you.

Clark stood at the top of the stairs, his half hard dick still swinging in his boxers, “Wait! Let’s talk about this. Please.”

Slowly, with one hand on the door, you turned around to look at him, avoiding looking below the waist. Maybe you two could work things out. In more ways than one.

[mrs-kmikaelson]

icarus

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x sunshine!reader Summary: Aaron thinks you're just about the most radiant person he's ever met. But then you fly too close to the sun, and all your light disappears. Warnings: grumpy x sunshine turned not sunshine, some references to the greek myth of icarus, religious imagery, graphic descriptions of violence, murder, brief allusion to suicide, heartbreak, complicated relationship, unhealthy coping mechanisms, cm timeline not canon, takes place in s6ish, extreme angst and no happy ending (yet) Words: 4.1K

Masterlist | helios (part 2)

a/n: part 2?

You'd been in Hotch's office too many times to count, typically sitting on his couch. Oftentimes, you'd come in after hours, waiting for him to finish his work before you walked to the parking lot together. He'd scribble away at his desk while you rested your eyes, and then he'd walk over to you when he was done.

Now, you sat on the couch, the same as before. But this time, Hotch sat in front of you. You weren't resting your eyes and he wasn't working on any case. A file laid on his lap, nonetheless.

Your file.

You wanted to question that. Was it performative? What would he find in that file that he didn't already know about you? Did he want to make you sweat, make you tense up?

He didn't need a file for that.

Your eyes zeroed in on the tan folder, labelled with the FBI seal, and they stayed there until he spoke your name. "Y/N."

You looked up. Aaron's face betrayed no emotion. His expression wasn't warm, nor was it cold. It was just blank.

But, see, you could read Aaron Hotchner better than any file. And in his eyes, you saw traces of concern, hope, frustration, desperation, and all those other things he was hiding behind his unit chief persona. You wondered if he could see anything in your eyes right now.

You weren't really there. Not in that moment.

Your mind went back to your first time in that office.

"SSA Aaron Hotchner, it's a pleasure to meet you."

You gave him a remarkable smile. "Please, the pleasure's all mine. Agent Y/N Y/L/N."  You had a firm handshake, he'd give you that. "It's— it's an honour to be here, sir."

David Rossi was your connection. He served with your father during the Vietnam War. Hotch thought that made him biased, but Rossi told him otherwise. She's the sun, he'd said. I guarantee, you'll never meet anyone as radiant as her.

Upon meeting you, Hotch could see that. He could see the beam in your smile and the light in your eyes. Maybe that should've deterred him from letting you on his team, but you were convincing.

Sitting opposite to you at his desk, he read from your file. "It says here you come from Crimes Against Children?"

"Yes, sir."

"You've held the highest number of cases solved within the unit for the past 2 years." He finally looked up at you, his lips twitching ever so slightly. "That's quite the accomplishment, agent."

He didn't seem like a man who gave out compliments very often, and so you had to fight the urge to smile like a lunatic. "Thank you, sir."

He didn't seem like a man who smiled much, either. And so, before he even said another word, you knew that you made it.

When the interview ended, you shook hands a second time, and he told you to pack a go-bag and be ready to come in for Monday. This time, you couldn't hide the smile.

"Welcome to the BAU."

Aaron's voice broke you from your reverie. "Please state your name and rank for the record."

Your eyes darted to the voice recorder on the coffee table before looking back up at him. You cleared your throat. "Supervisory Special Agent Y/N Y/L/N."

Aaron didn't waste any time. "Agent Y/L/N, in your time with CAC, you had the most cases solved within the unit," he stated. That was once a compliment to you.

It didn't feel that way anymore.

"Yes," you affirmed.

"You were there for 2 years."

"Yes."

Hotch paused. His next words weren't a statement. "How did that affect your mental wellbeing?"

Low blow. Very low blow. But you kept your composure, answering, "I was evaluated frequently as a member of the CAC. I was deemed fit to be in the field on each occasion." You bit your tongue to keep you from saying anything else. This is being recorded, you reminded yourself.

Hotch narrowed his eyes, almost imperceptibly.

Almost. 

"And once you got to the BAU, there was no residual guilt?" He made eye contact with you, and perhaps now your eyes were communicating something.

That was lower.

But you supposed that Aaron knew exactly where to hit.

"It's okay if you have to take a break, you know."

You jumped at the sudden voice, putting a hand on your heart. You didn't hear anyone enter the stairwell.

An apologetic look crossed his face, but you were the one with an apology on your lips. "Sorry, I— I'll get back right now."

You attemped to walk past him, but his hand caught your shoulder. Your breath hitched. You didn't know why.

His eyes softened. They were normally hard, inpenetrable, but you were starting to realize that he looked at you differently. The team teased you for favouritism, and you denied it every time, but you could only lie to yourself so much.

"Y/N," he started, "if you think you have something to prove, you don't. You've already proven yourself." His voice was tender, not as though he was treating you like you were delicate, but like he wanted to be gentle. "You're allowed to take a minute."

You sighed. "But I shouldn't have to, Hotch." You looked away from him, trying to find the words to verbalize your thoughts. "I— I dealt with tougher cases than this in CAC. I should be able to handle it. It's not fair for me to break down when that boy is out there, all on his own."

A lump grew in the back of your throat. It wasn't fair. Nothing about this job was fair.

You weren't normally so quick to cry, but you'd been holding this in. Aaron could tell. 

After cases, you were everyone's shoulder to cry on. Even he had confided in you multiple times when he probably shouldn't have. You were always there.

He wondered who was there for you.

"What you feel is valid. This is a hard case; it's normal to be a bit overwhelmed. You don't have to carry guilt over that."

A little laugh left you. "Hotch, how can you say that when everyone else is handling it just fine?"

His reply came quick. "They're not." You wanted to interject, but he continued, "Prentiss may seem fine, but beneath the surface, she's disgusted. Morgan is no different; he's angry, and that's manifesting into aggression. Reid is quieter today. Rossi is going to get a drink later. JJ has called Will 3 times since we got here, checking on Henry. And every time I see that boy's picture, I think of Jack, and I'm barely holding it together."

You swallowed at the admission, realizing his hand was still on your shoulder when he took it away. You missed the warmth.

"You're not alone, Y/N."

You believed him.

Your jaw tensed. "Guilt is inevitable. But I didn't have any more of it than the average agent."

Aaron didn't believe you. He wouldn't. He knew better.

But he was Hotch right now, and technically, Hotch wasn't meant to know anything about you. Hotch was conducting this interview, and his subordinate, Agent Y/L/N, sat across from him. Not his teammate or friend.

Certainly not the girl who fell in love with him.

You and Emily stood in the break room. She poured you a coffee as you talked about your weekends. She was just in the middle of telling you about her weekend to Atlantic City. Your laugh echoed throughout the room.

"Prentiss, next time you go gambling, take me with you! I promise I'm good."

"Somehow, I don't doubt that."

Your head turned to the new voice, seeing Hotch standing at the doorway. His lips quirked upward slightly, almost a smile. It was the most you'd get from him—you knew that.

A part of you was grateful for anything he was willing to give you.

You matched his smile with much more vigour. "You should try me sometime. I'd give you a run for your money, Hotchner," you teased. 

If you didn't know any better, you might've thought his eyes softened right then and there. "Somehow, I don't doubt that, either," he said.

You nearly forgot Emily was even in the room, missing the look she sent you. You wouldn't have known how to respond to it, anyway. Sometimes, you almost thought Hotch was flirting with you—and maybe he was. But that was the furthest it'd ever go, the most he'd ever give you.

That part of you, the biggest part, was grateful for it.

And another part of you didn't see the problem with that.

As if he was coming to his senses, he cleared his throat, crossing his arms over his chest and informing you, "Round table in 5." Then he was walking away like nothing ever happened. 

Maybe it didn't. Maybe you imagined it. Sometimes, you felt like pinching yourself.

But then from behind you, Emily chirped, "You know... he could've sent JJ to come tell us that."

You hummed, refusing to look at her.

Amusement flooded her voice. "It's... it's almost like... something just pulled him here."

"Okay, Emily."

You ignored her cackling, making an early trip to the round table as heat licked the tips of your ears.

Hotch's gaze didn't let up. You felt your face burn.

You knew he had a Rolodex of thoeries in his mind, a mental profile of who he thought you were. He once told you that he was a collector in his youth, and so you knew he had a collection of questions in his head.

He was striking out with this one. He moved on to the next.

"Would you say you've built close relationships with the members of this team?"

Your eyes travelled to the photo behind his desk, barely making out the image of you at a bar with the rest of the team, Aaron included. He stood next to you in that one. You were all smiling, even him.

You re-directed your attention back to him. "Yes, I have."

"You should smile more."

Aaron looked down at you, his expression a mix of confusion and amusement. "What?"

Blinking, you repeated, "I said, you should smile more." A dopey grin arose on your face. "It suits you."

Aaron resisted the urge to laugh at your drunken antics. He was perfectly sober, having already anticipated that he'd have to someone's ride. "Okay, I think it's time we get you home." You didn't protest, nor did the smile on your face move. Sometimes, Hotch thought it was there permanently, like it was a fixed part of your character.

He grew to really like that smile.

Maybe more than like.

He said his goodbyes for the both of you, receiving teasing glances from the rest of the team and wiggly eyebrows from Morgan. You barely took notice of any of it, now enthralled by the laces on your shoes.

When he guided you up and you realized you were leaving, you waved haphazardly. "Bye guys!"

A chorus of goodbyes and laughter followed you out the door of the bar. Before you could even shiver, a coat was being draped over your shoulders. It took you a few seconds to figure out it was Aaron's.

Butterflies swarmed through your stomach.

Hotch was silent for a few seconds. It was like he was hesitating. But not for long.

"And would you say that those relationships are still the same now?"

You swallowed. Butterflies were in your stomach—and not the good kind. These butterflies ate away at your insides, making you want to vomit what little breakfast you'd eaten that morning. You felt sick.

Moths, you realized. Not butterflies at all.

You were a moth, too. Drawn to the flames of something bigger than you. Was that what Hotch was getting at? Was that why he was asking you all these pointless questions? 

He knew the answers already. Why was he asking you?

You responded, anyway. "No." Even if he wasn't a profiler, it would've been impossible not to notice the way your voice tightened up.

He was getting somewhere now. He dug deeper. "Is that because of what happened in Glendale?"

No. No. No. No.

Yes.

He knew that. God, he knew that better than anyone. But still, you could question him and his credibility. That was an awful question, not because he already knew the answer but because it was so unspecified.

"A lot happened in Glendale," you said. A lot.

Everything.

"You look tired."

You rolled your eyes. "Thanks, Hotchner. That's just what a girl wants to hear." You flashed him a smile, anyway, like you were showing him that your annoyance was nothing more than playful.

You were still smiling, even in the midst of all this. Sometimes, Hotch thought you could smile enough for the two of you.

His hotel room was right beside yours. You were still getting your key out. Truthfully, he didn't know why he was just standing there, watching you.

In a way, it was like you were waiting for him, too. Despite having fished your room key out of your purse, you turned your body to fully face him. Something soft twinkled in your irises.

He wanted to say he saw stars in your eyes, but it was really just you. 

You were the star.

If he took another step closer, you'd be able to feel his breath against your skin. But you knew he wouldn't. You wanted him to, but he wouldn't, not even if you asked him to. And you wouldn't ask him.

He was the unit chief; he valued that. He valued rules, and order, and protocol. You couldn't ask him to turn on that. 

But you could do it yourself.

You took one step forward. He didn't step back.

"Y/N," he pleaded. It was meant to be a warning, but his voice was as light as a feather. 

You didn't know what you were doing. Ever since you joined the BAU, you were sure of yourself, absolute. Hotch made you rethink things. He made you feel like you were a champion, on top of the world and so close to the sun.

Aaron was warm. That's all you ever wanted.

You closed your eyes, feeling the warmth of his hand on your face. "Please," you whispered. "Please."

You weren't asking—you were begging. Begging him to see you. God, Hotch had been engulfed in darkness for so long. You were begging him to bask in the sunlight with you.

But he wouldn't.

Within seconds, the warmth was gone. "Goodnight, Y/N."

When you opened your eyes, he was already walking away, leaving you standing there with a key in your hand and your heart on your sleeve.

Hotch sighed, his forefinger going to his thumb. Tired. "I'm talking about that night, Y/N."

Your heart dropped.

You remembered that night. You remembered it well. But he wasn't talking about the part where he left you standing in an empty hallway.

He was talking about what came after.

Knocking sounded at your door, incessant and loud. You suppressed a groan, getting up and throwing the door open without checking the peep hole. Maybe that was stupid, considering you were working a serial killer case and all the victims looked like you, but you honestly would've preferred anything other than seeing Hotch standing on the other side of the threshold.

When you opened the door, his hand fell. Soon after, so did his face. You'd been crying. You suddenly wished you'd gotten the chance to splash water on your face before carelessly opening your door.

But Hotch collected himself in an instant, returning the stony exterior you were used to. "There's been an update in the case. We have the unsub's location," he told you.

Just like that, you stood straighter, composing yourself in record speed that could put your boss to shame. "Just let me put on my shoes." You hadn't even changed.

You put on your shoes, and then you and Hotch left without another word to each other.

In the elevator, you wiped away the last of your tears as he stared straight ahead.

You were glad he didn't mention it.

Tears built in your eyes, no matter how hard you tried to hold them back. Still, you held your resolve. "I don't want to talk about that night."

For the first time since this conversation started, Hotch's voice softened. "You have to, Y/N." He sounded like he pitied you.

You didn't want his pity. You didn't want his or anyone's anything. You just didn't want to talk about it.

"Alright, JJ, Prentiss, you take the side. Rossi and I will take the front. Morgan and Y/L/N take the back."

You saw a few confused eyes dart your way at his assignment, but you brushed them off. It wasn't the time to question why Hotch didn't pair you together, even though he always did, or why he'd address you with your last name when that name was practically foreign to his tongue.

Now wasn't the time.

Instead, you nodded, following his orders. That much hadn't changed.

At the back entrance, Morgan kicked down the door and then you made your way in, holding your flashlight above your gun.

Beyond the back lounging area, there were two hallways extending on both sides. Derek nodded to the right direction, and you nodded back at him, taking the left.

The rickety floorboards creaked under your weight. You shined your light on the walls. There was framed artwork, but no family pictures, just as you profiled. Everything was as you profiled. This was clean cut.

It was supposed to be simple.

But it wasn't.

Right as you turned the corner, you were slammed into the wall. Both your gun and your flashlight fell out of your hands, dropping to the floor. 

You didn't get the chance to retaliate. The unsub grabbed you by your vest, throwing you against the other wall. Your back hit glass, shattering everywhere. You gasped, and then he was striking you to the ground.

Your arms flailed at the sides, trying to reach your gun, but it was no use. He climbed on top of you, knocking the wind out of your lungs.

It was so dark. But you could see his face so clearly. His teeth glinted in the light as he grinned at you. "You... are... beautiful."

You cried, mustering all your strength to get up. It wasn't enough. Not enough, not enough, not enough.

With a knife you hadn't seen before, he caressed your face. Cold, cold, cold. It was so cold. 

Then the blade was off your face, and relief flooded through your veins. Until it was replaced by something worse. So much worse.

You didn't feel it right away, but when you did, your head shot up like this was all a bad dream you could just wake up from. 

Except it wasn't. The feeling of his knife being plunged into your abdomen proved that. 

It was gone, and then it just came right back. Again. And again.

You tried to scream, but no sound would come out. Your mouth warped around nothing.

The pain took you whole, wrapping its arms around your body and enveloping you in ice. You had never felt so much pain. God, was this what Hotch felt when the Reaper attacked him? Did he feel so heavy and so light at the same time?

More tears raced down your cheeks at the thought. It hurt so bad. You knew it would hurt, but you never thought it'd hurt this bad.

The unsub pulled the knife out of you yet again, dripping your own blood onto your face. You could see his eyes. They were lifeless. He smiled maniacally, raising his arms above his head. This was it, you thought. His face would be the last thing you saw.

He was gonna end it. Finally.

You nearly prayed for it.

You screwed your eyes shut, awaiting the blade to meet your skin one last time.

It never did.

A gunshot rang through the hallway. A heavy mass fell on top of you before it was shoved off. Somebody was calling your name. You couldn't decipher who it was.

They were shaking your shoulders. Something wet hit your face. Your eyes didn't open.

The pain was so strong. You were so tired. So, so tired.

You let yourself fall asleep.

"Y/N!"

"Y/N."

Hotch's concerned eyes were too much for you. You couldn't do this. You couldn't pretend to be here when you were still there. 

You shot out of your chair, fervently shaking your head. "Turn the recorder off."

Hotch matched your stance, knitting his brows together. "Y/N—"

"Damnit, Hotch, turn it off!"

At your outburst, he narrowed his eyes, but he ultimately did as you said, pressing pause.

You ran your a hand through your hair. The room was spinning. Your head was spinning. Your vision got blurry.

He tried to reason, "We have to talk about this—"

"No!" you cut him off, pointing your finger at him. It wouldn't stop shaking. "No, we don't. We could leave it alone like I am asking you to— like I am begging you to."

His face softened, looking less like Hotch and more like Aaron. But you didn't want to see Aaron. Not now. "No, we can't—"

"Yes, we can!" you shouted. You were lucky the office was empty at this hour. You were lucky Hotch gave you the couresy of emptiness. Your eyes were wild as you stepped closer to him. "When Elle spiralled, nobody talked about it. When everyone found out about what happened to Derek, nobody talked about it. When Spencer was kidnapped and got hooked on drugs, nobody fucking talked about it. And you!" You pointed your finger back at him, now in his face. "When you were stabbed and Foyet murdered Haley in cold. blood. you came back here and you never talked about it!" Tears ran down your face in a waterfall, your lips quivering. "Why can't I do the same?"

Hurt was all over Aaron's face, but he didn't step back like you were expecting him to. Instead, he stepped forward. If this were before, he would've grasped onto your shoulders. His fingers could only flex at his sides.

"You're not the same, Y/N." Just like that night in the hallway, he was pleading with you. He was pleading to just let him help you.

A humourless laugh left you. "Of course, I'm not the same, Aaron. No one is."

How could he expect you to be the same? How could he expect you to come back and be the same person you were when that person was still lying in a house in Glendale? How could he expect you to be the same person when you could still feel that man's body on top of you? When you could still feel his knife cutting into your flesh?

"I'm trying to help you—"

"Well, you can't." You took your finger and pointed it at your chest. "It hurts here. Everything about me is shattered and broken into a thousand little pieces and you can't do anything to fix it."

He shook his head. "Don't say that."

"God, and you only make it worse." Maybe this was unfair of you, but it hurt so bad you couldn't see clearly.

He looked pained. "Please don't say that."

"But you do." You stepped forward, nearly closing the gap between you. "You hurt me, Aaron. Having this conversation is hurting me. Please— please just stop. "

"Y/N." He whispered your name like it was his last Hail Mary. Tears responded to his call.

You couldn't do this. 

You pursed your lips together, stepping away from him altogether. "I can't be here anymore. I— I have to go."

He tried to reach after you, but he couldn't stop you from walking out the door. And as soon as you weren't in his sight, you were running. Running away from the same room you'd fallen asleep in time and time again. Running away from the man that occupied it. The same man who held your heart in his hands.

Hotch stood alone in his office, staring at the open door where you'd left. You took all the light with you.

You were a constant beacon in the darkness that surrounded your lives, brightening up the BAU day by day. That light was always there, even if it dimmed a bit. You chased it like a moth drawn to a flame. But now it'd been snuffed out.

You had flown too close to the sun.

And now your light was gone.

[vershautece]

husband lu headcanons

self indulgent thoughts of how i think lu would take care of u kinda tradwife but also just him being so masculine and sexy and caring omg!!! NSFW and SFW

- he’d hold you in his arms whenever you’re upset, even when he’s working you’ll just climb onto his lap and you know not to disturb him but he’ll just let you sit there with your arms around his neck and he’s pressing soft kisses to your shoulders and your hair

- daydreaming about his arms and hands, how his hands would caress up and down your waist as you make out, and when you’re cuddling his arms would wrap so tight around you protectively; if he had one arm around your waist and his other hand caressing your cheek oh god

- brushing your hair out of your face and holding it back for you while you suck his cock, also cradling the side of your face in his hand

- cooing at you when you’re on his lap (or on his cock lol, but this thought is sfw) ‘you okay, beautiful?’ ‘c’mere, take deep breaths’ ‘i know you’re stressed, i know. rest on my lap’

- he’s such a good listener, holding you in his arms while you rant or open up to him: ‘yeah, baby? i know’ nodding at everything you say and giving you answers for everything

- making him food all the time, he’d come home and dinner would be on the table immediately for him :)

- he’d love coming up behind you whenever you’re doing something (usually when you’re baking or cooking) to grip your waist and ass, pecking your cheek and neck

- sometimes he’d fuck you way too hard, you asked for it because you were so horny but you end up struggling to walk afterwards, so he’d carry you everywhere bridal style and bathe with you the 2 days after until the aches are gone

- him being obsessed with the way your left hand wraps around his cock with the ring he bought you ;)

- sex allll the timeeee. your sex life has always been perfect, but after getting married it somehow got even better - you’re getting that dick every night on whatever surface in the house you want :) if he’s stressed or you’re stressed it’s even better, he’ll fuck the shit out of you to distract himself or calm you down

- morning sex on weekends, particularly on sundays when you both dedicate your time to a lazy morning together. you’d wake up late, cuddling and talking, then some slow, cosy sex before you both take a shower together, and then you make the two of you breakfast in your robe while he gets dressed :’)

- it’s not long after you get married that you get pregnant; i think his sister got pregnant like right after she got married so i think his mom would gently pressure u both after your wedding too, because his family are traditional and expect grandchildren - what she wouldn’t know though is that u guys are more than ready because lu has been telling you you’re having his children for about 2 years prior lol

and during pregnancy he’s giving you your usual princess treatment x100 - carrying you bridal style everywhere, laying with you whenever he can caressing your bump, buying all your pregnancy cravings even in the middle of the night, making love to you whenever you’re horny even if he’s exhausted or you wake him up from sleep, and he would shave for you when your belly gets too big that you can no longer reach :’)

^ i wanna do specific hcs for having kids with him so i won’t go into detail in this post

- his mom teaching you all his favorite italian meals so you can make them for him :’)

- when you have kids you have to be careful about when and where you have sex when they’re in the house, so sometimes you’ll be cleaning the kitchen or something while they’re upstairs and he’ll pull up your skirt or dress and fuck you right there, you have to mostly rely on quickies until they’re with their grandparents or godparents, but!!!!! shower sex is ur favorite thing together, because when your kids are asleep and the water’s so loud you can fuck for as long and as hard as you want :p

- omg also!! when your kids are asleep and you’re watching TV downstairs by the fireplace he’d fuck you so slowly on the couch under a blanket

- sucking his cock whenever you can tell he’s stressed, even if he doesn’t ask you can always tell what he wants and you’ll provide for him like the perfect wife you are !!!

- fixing his tie for him every morning and pulling him into you by his tie to kiss him

- vacation several times a year because we know lu loves to travel; he’d take all your pictures for you as your own personal photographer, you’d lounge under the sun together all day, then make love in your villa at night with the sound of the ocean outside your window :3

- he’s aaaalways playing with your fingers and kissing your hand, he does this in public a lot if you’re nervous or just if he wants to show u some affection :) he’d play with the ring on your finger and tell you you’re all his

- the things he’d say to you out of nowhere like while you’re cuddling or just coming up behind you to whisper in your ear: ‘look so pretty’ ‘my beautiful wife’ ‘baby, you’re all mine’

- whenever you get dressed up; ‘spin for me’ :3

- he’s always making you blush and giggle

- after you’ve been wearing heels all day he’ll take them off for you and massage and kiss your feet as you tell him about your day

- his family love you, and everyone knows you’re the most perfect couple :’) they talk about you both all the time

- he always has his arm around you, always holding your hand, fixing your makeup for you, holding your bags, everyone around you sees how he treats you like a princess

- thinking about in missionary how you’d push on his abdomen when it’s too much bc he’s so big and he’d almost cum instantly from looking down at your hand and seeing the rock he put on your finger >.<

- he’d keep note of everything, like he’d know when your makeup products are running out and he’d buy you new ones, he’d know your menstrual cycle and know exactly how you’re feeling throughout the month

- speaking of your cycle… he’d know when you’re ovulating and he’d treat you sooo well. that rough passionate sex during ovulation week, oh he’d give you everything you need 😊

- i didn’t wanna make this post too much about your children bc i wanna save it for another post but him scolding your kids in front of you omg while you’re cleaning the house or something and now you’re soaked hehe.. another thought is watching him coo and rock your babies to sleep and then get into bed with you and give it to you so good all night :D

- that post wedding sex…. and your honeymoon… all night long literally you were seeing stars by the end of the night

- he would be so so protective over you, his arm tight around your waist, giving you soft pecks on your neck while you’re speaking to men - he’s not the type for lots of pda, just enough to make you feel safe and secure with him

- the smell of his aftershave while he’s getting ready for the day and you’re sat in bed watching him pull up his boxers and >.< omg watching him shaveee in the mirror and wrapping your arms around his waist from behind, getting on your tiptoes to kiss his cheek

- he’d loooove pampering you in the bath or the shower, you’re his beautiful wife and he’ll do anything for you

- he’d read to you in bed when you need comforting, pulling you onto his lap and holding you by your waist, or laying down spooning you

- he’d buy you your fav glosses and lip balms without you asking because he’s obsessed with tasting the strawberry and watermelon flavor on your lips hehe

- him holding both you and his baby girl to his chest while you’re all asleep in bed or on the couch :’(

- gripping his bicep while you’re walking

- always sleeping naked or almost naked, he loves laying on your boobs <3

- so many sweet, slow evenings by the fireplace where he’s holding you in his arms, whispering sweet nothings to you and kissing your skin

so there are my thoughts oh i need to be married to him right now. 😔🩵