#THE ENDING FEELS SO RUSHED HELP but it’s done what can i do

[ce1estiall]

dopamine

summary paige x teammate!reader this is part 2 of “flowers”, paige helps give you what you need

warnings smut, oral (r! receiving), strap (r! receiving), fingering (r! receiving), dirty talk

celestial notes someone requested part 2 of flowers, so this is it! im also going to write part 2 of “nothing left” later this week :) enjoy

“yeah you look so good standing next to me.

next best thing, i need dopamine.” - dopamine, aespa

the rush of lust was running through your veins throughout your body. paige kept kissing you, harder every time. moans escaped your mouth. she went down to you neck, sucking hickeys all over. your body became hot. she glared at you as she started to take your pants off, becoming wet by the second. "how bad do you want me?"

"bad, really bad." you whined, desperate for her to fuck you. "please paige, i need you."

that turned her on, unleashed a side of her no one saw. she pulled down your panties and spread open your legs, seeing the sight of your wet pussy. "that wet for me already and i haven't done anything. what a slut."

she slowly started rubbing circles on your cunt, moans filled up the room quickly. "mm, fuck. make me cum"

she smirked. "nuh-uh, i'm taking my time with you. you deserve to feel good, right?" she laid down, admiring you. she licked your fold slowly, giving you instant pleasure through out your body.

she got closer, eating your pussy like she was starving. her tongue started to spell out your name. she slurped what seemed like every ounce of bodily fluids. "don't stop, paige please don't stop" you said as you felt like you were in hell or heaven. your hands now tangled in the blonde, wavy hair. she slid her tongue inside you, now tongue fucking you. your head went back, almost giving yourself whiplash from the pleasure. "fuck! fuck!" you felt the orgasm on its way. "im gonna cum!"

"cum in my mouth baby." your eyes turned white as you cummed in paige's mouth. she continued you to eat you out until every drop of cum was gone in the moment. “you tasted so fucking good for me baby.”

post-orgasm, you broke out into a sweat, trying to catch your breath. "good girl. but i'm not done with you yet." you didn't want this to end, you had plenty of more orgasms in store, just for paige.

paige then slid 2 fingers inside of you while on top of you. "you look so pretty when i'm controlling you. such a good girl for me." the slowly slams increased and became faster as she slammed her fingers in your pussy. "yes, fuck, mmh" is all that you were able to say. you were slowly getting fucked dumb. your words started to slur and your brain started to become foggy, but you and paige were both enjoying every second of this.

"takin' me so good. you just wanted me to fuck you, hm? is that what you wanted? yeah?" just the sound of her voice was enough to make you cum. her fingers were starting to become pruny as how wet you were.

"yes." you said, out of breath

"what was that baby? i couldn't hear you." she just wanted to hear you praise her.

"yes, i wanted you to fuck me badly. you're fucking me so good, mmh." you felt an orgasm coming.

“gonna cum again baby?” as your orgasm was about to exit, she quickly pulled out. “you don’t cum unless i say so.”

“yes paige.” you sounded so desperate, just waiting for paige to give you permission to squirt.

“good girl.” she curiously went through a drawer in your room and found a strap. “have you let someone use this on you? or have you been waiting for me?”

cat was out the bag. “waiting for you.” you spoke as you looked guilty.

“figured.” she smirked while strapping herself. you face was in the pillow while your ass was up, waiting for her. she inserted the strap into you, starting slow. every slam, you replied with a moan.

“you can fucking take it. i’m gonna fuck you dumb you’ll forget your own fucking name.” she pulled your hair as you arched your back, feeling all of your walls and inside. at one point paige stopped, letting you ride her while slapping your ass.

“please paige, let me cum.” you said, desperately

“you wanna cum for me? fucking beg for it.” she snapped.

“please let me cum all over your cock. you make me feel so fucking good.” you cried.

“good fucking girl. cum all over this dick.” she said in an angry tone.

“paige, paige!” you were screaming her name as you squirted all over her cock. she smiled at the sight of you and your fluids all over the bed, eventually pulling out.

you still didn’t feel finished. you turned over and made paige now on top, sitting up. you spread your legs open, slowly riding her thigh. she was relaxed, now admiring you like you were art. “mm, fuck” you were riding her thighs hard. she felt your liquid all over her her, smiling. she gripped your ass as you had your arms wrapped around her neck. “you like riding me? fucking whore.”

“fuck p.” you felt her body heat, rising as you were on top of her. you couldn’t resist how hot she looked. you started kissing her, biting on her lips. she tasted the candy you had earlier.

you felt cold air hit your body as your third orgasm was happening, you cummed all over paige’s legs. she grabbed a finger and scooped your cum, then tasting it. “tastes like my girl. you did so fucking good for me.” she kissed your forehead as you felt her appreciation translate on you.

“does this mean you’ll be my girlfriend?” paige asked, looking innocently.

“you should’ve asked me a long time ago, p.” you smiled. “yes, absolutely.”

[crowdedimagines]

Tailspin - Part II (Bradley Bradshaw)

PART ONE MASTERLIST

summary: Bradley Bradshaw was happy to retire to the small town of Southport with his two children after their mother had passed. He traded in training pilots at Top Gun in San Diego to being a fire chief for a small town of 3,000.  What he doesn't expect in his small town is a new neighbor who captures his attention. She's making the cross country move from New York promising never to fall for a man quickly ever again and then she meets the hot single dad next door. Yeah right. Between the two of them and everything they have going on in their lives on they going to fall out in a Tailspin? warnings: blood, stalking, death, domestic violence 4.8K ☀️

“Will you be my girlfriend?”

She leans back, still sitting in his lap but putting her weight on her ass instead of her knees straddling him. Bradley can’t quite get a read on her and what she’s thinking. 

“After a story like that you want to be my boyfriend?” 

His response is slow and calculated. Bradley’s eyes never leave hers, she’s certain. His hands keep her dress bunched up, but his thumb traces the tops of her thighs back and forth. 

“Of course I do.” Bradley sighs, “If you’re ready. You are the first person I’ve wanted to know since Anna passed. The connection we have is undeniable, and I have no doubt that we’re headed in the right direction. Why wait? Plus I think Sadie would never forgive me if I blew this” 

She finally cracks a smile at the mention of Sadie. 

“You’re crazy.” She admits with a laugh, “You don’t think we’re rushing?” 

“I don’t, but I’ll also be okay if you want to slow down. I know that it’s only been a couple weeks, but I never even thought I could feel like this again. You’ve brightened up my whole life.” 

She can’t help herself but lean in and press her lips to his again at that. How could she not kiss him after saying that?

“Yes.” She mumbles, lips still pressed against his, but she knows he heard when his lips shift into a grin. He pulls his head back, his eyes wild. He definitely heard her. 

“Seriously?” 

“Only because I would hate to disappoint Sadie.” She teases. 

“Oh really?” He rolls his eyes, but his smile hasn’t dimmed for a second. 

“Okay, you’re alright too.” 

✿

It took some serious self control to walk the short distance back to her own house, but she managed after several more kisses. She never imagined she would find someone she could trust again, let alone so rapidly after moving here. Southport has only been her home for a month, but she’s known the Bradshaws nearly every second since. He makes her feel safe. She didn’t know if it was the small town that brought her comfort, but the more time she spends with him she knows he’s the real reason.

Bradley has to work a couple of long days which gives Y/n the time to finish some of the small projects. Bradley even loans her some of his more serious tools. She got an educated lesson in all of them before he was willing to leave them to her digression.

She ends up watching the kids for an hour for him when one of his shifts goes long covering for someone else. Y/n was nervous to have Nick under her supervision, but he was surprisingly tame. She can’t tell if he’s warming to her, or if he's just exhausted from being annoyed by everyone. They simply made dinner together with all of them, but she caught him smiling to himself a few times. She gave them each a job and Bradley was able to come home to his house to a warm meal and all of his favorite people under one roof. What did they do before she came into their lives?

Bradley gets his sitter Hannah to wrangle the kids for a night when he finally gets done early so he can have redemption for the time he had to bring the kids with him. He knows that she still loved that date, but he knows that they really do need time just the two of them. 

“Are you sure you know what you’re doing with that?” Y/n asks, together they stand in her dated bathroom. She watches while he takes a wrench to the showerhead. They’ve already managed to tear down the old tile off the walls. 

“I was a naval aviator, I’ve flown multimillion dollar jets. I can handle your plumbing from the 60s.” He lets out a huff while pulling hard to loosen the old pipes. He gives it a few hard pulls before a loud shriek of metal gives, leaving water spraying in every direction without the sealed pipe in place. 

“Bradley!” She yells, water spraying out in every direction. 

“Didn’t you turn the water off?” He calls back, taking the brunt of the water while trying to seal it off again and stop the downpour. 

“No, you didn’t say anything about that!” 

“I thought it was a given!” 

He can’t help but laugh and Y/n joins in after a second. She races out of the room to turn off the water, seeing as whatever Bradley did to the pipes can’t be undone as easily. By the time she makes her way back to the bathroom the water has stopped spraying and Bradley is totally drenched. 

“I’m so sorry.” She can’t help but giggle, she’s definitely wet too, but he looks like he walked through a car wash. 

“What was that again about handling my 60s plumbing?” She teases. Bradley looks up from wiping the water from his face to cut her a look. 

“Am I at least pulling off the drenched hero look?” He asks, pulling at the bottom of his tee shirt to wipe his face off with it. In the process, revealing his golden tan and the stack of abs while he’s at it. 

“Do that again and I’ll start drooling.” She admits, his cheeks dust pink and he throws his head back in a laugh. He’ll happily be ogled by her any day of the week. 

A drop of water falls from her hair down her neck before disappearing into her chest, Bradley watching it with trained eyes. 

“I can grab us some towels.” Her voice quiet. The atmosphere in the bathroom has changed and it’s a lot more intense than giggling over home renovations. 

“Why bother?” He asks, reaching a hand out to cup her cheek. His thumb brushes away a droplet that had been resting on her cheekbone. 

She pulls him in closer by the neckline of his wet tee shirt and connects their lips. She’s just as wet as he was now that she’s pressing herself against him. It doesn’t take long for the kiss to turn urgent and breathless. 

Soaked to the bone, he wraps an arm around the back of her waist holding her there. He lifts her slightly while walking her back into the counter. One of the only things left in the room that they hadn’t demolished. They stumble a bit on the wet floor but their chemistry keeps them in sync. 

Now that she’s sitting, she wraps her legs around him, her turn to hold him hostage although she’s sure he has no complaints. He doesn’t have any complaints when she reaches to pull his wet tee off while she’s at it. It peels off like a second skin and she drops it to the ground barely breaking their kiss. 

“Sounds like we’re taking a little break from the reno.” Bradley teases, she makes her way down his neck leaving a trail of kisses.

“We are absolutely taking a break.” She continues her assault on his chest now and he pulls up on her chin to reconnect their lips. The sound of water dripping is replaced with soft moans and gasps from both parties while they explore each other's bodies. 

“Do we wanna take this somewhere that isn’t soaking wet?” 

“Good luck with that.” She grins mischievously. 

“Yeah, I’ve gotta get you to a bedroom.” He chuckles, picking her up right from the counter. She tightens her grip with her legs around his bare torso. 

“Are you sure you don’t wanna finish the bathroom?” She cards her fingers through his hair while he carries her towards her bedroom. 

“Nope. The shower can wait. You and I can’t.” 

✿

They barely made it to her bed, the pillows launched all over the room with the blankets as well. Her hair is still wet, but Bradley’s has dried with the most volume she’s ever seen. Probably due to her hands filtering through it on end. It’s still early afternoon so the room is bright with light from the windows, her bed facing the ocean.

“One of my old Navy buddies is coming to town tomorrow. She’s Nick’s godmother so she’s gonna take the kids out for the day.” She’s leaning against his chest while he lays on his back. His hand absentmindedly tracing along her bare back while they talk. 

“What are you gonna do with yourself? A whole day off with no kids?” 

“I’m looking at it.” He looks down at her and she rolls her eyes before looking up at him. 

“You’re slowing me down.” She teases, “I’m never gonna finish the house at this rate.” 

“I thought you liked it slow.” He flips them over so her back is pressed against the mattress, again, and leans his weight down against her. His knee resting between her legs.

“I do. Trust me.” She laughs, patting his chest, “At this rate I’m going to be working on this place for a whole year. The goal is to finish by the end of the summer, remember.” 

He presses kisses all over her face while she talks, causing her to laugh and interrupt herself. She can tell he’s listening, but the focus is not on the reno and her timeline for it. 

“Bradley.” She laughs, shoving him off so she can sit up. 

“You know, as far as home renovations go, that one was my favorite.” He tucks his arms behind his head leaning back into her bed. It smells like her and he’s the comfiest he’s ever been. She might have to drag him out of it. 

“Not bad for our first plumbing disaster.” She teases. 

“Disaster?” His brows raise.

“Get your mind out of the gutter, I was talking about actual plumbing.” She reminds and simply shakes her head. 

“Yeah whatever, coming from Miss “Good luck with that”, uh huh.” He teases right back. Okay, fair point. He pulls her right back against his chest again, his arms wrapped around her holding her there. She traces along his chest again without thought. 

“You okay? Not too much too fast?” He asks, waiting for any reaction from her. He knows that they jumped the gun a little, but it felt so right. He knows there’s no set rules of what order you have to do things in, but everything they’ve done has felt right. He’s waited years for someone like this and he didn’t think it was possible. He’s also aware of the fact that she isn’t coming from the same place he is. He likes their pace, but could do slower if she wanted it.

“No, I’m good. More than that actually.” She looks up into his eyes so he would know she means it, “I’m just surprised. I didn’t think I would find something so good so quickly.” 

“Yeah?”

“No, I didn’t think when I moved here I would end up in bed with my neighbor boyfriend.” She laughs.

“I really like hearing that.” He grins. 

“Neighbor boyfriend?” 

“Just boyfriend.” He corrects, “Neighbor boyfriend makes it sound like you have a dozen.” 

“Maybe I do.” She pokes his side.

“You say the sweetest things, babe.” He squeezes her tighter. “But seriously this feels good. Being here with you. You’re the best to be around. Even when I’m soaked and bruised.” 

“Bruised?” 

“You climbed me like a tree earlier, there’s gotta be bruises.” His laugh booms, “Scratches too.” 

“Okay, I’m putting you back to work.” She gets up, slowly slipping out of his grasp. 

“You’re right, we have other rooms to defile.” 

✿

They manage to get it together enough to finish the tear down of that bathroom. Even with the water turned off. Bradley tells Y/n more about Natasha aka Phoenix who is the friend who will be arriving. She’s one of his closest friends from the Navy and the Godmother to Nick. Bradley has the whole day off and already promised to take Y/n to Hanks to pick up the new tile and work on that today while Nat gets time with the kids. 

Bradley has to leave once they’ve finished the tile to pick up Sadie from dance and be home in time for Nick. He invited Y/n over for breakfast the next day with Nat right when she arrives so they can meet before she steals the kids for the day. 

“Good morning!” Y/n voice calls as she lets herself in the front door. 

“Y/n!” Sadie calls back from the kitchen running to greet her with a big hug. Y/n scoops her up onto her hip and continues walking to the kitchen. She follows her nose, the smell of bacon in the air. 

“Hey, Nick.” She greets as she walks past the counter he’s sitting at. 

“Hey.” He mumbles back. He doesn’t look like he wants to set the house on fire because she’s there, so she’ll take it. Progress?

“Hi, you.” She turns to Bradley who is standing in front of the stove cooking. He turns to look at his girl only to find both his girls together. That is a sight he’s dreamed of.  

“Hey. How’s it going?” 

“You’re cooking.” She skips past his question, instead she’s trying not to drool at the sight of him in a “kiss the cook” apron in front of his kids. 

“Don’t sound so shocked.” 

“It’s just… bold of you to trust yourself with open flames after the plumbing fiasco.” She reminds, he can see the knowing smirk she’s trying to hide over his shoulder. 

“Fiasco, huh?” 

“Something like that.” 

There are kids in the room. There are kids in the room. She continues to tell herself that over and over. 

“Company will be here any minute, I gotta have food ready for when she gets here. She left Coronado about an hour ago, so it could be any time now.” 

Y/n nods to Bradley and turns her attention to the other side of the kitchen where Nick is still glued to a stool, Sadie still on her hip.

“So Nick, when are we going fishing?” Y/n turns her attention to the younger man of the pair. She knows Bradley told him she used to go with her dad, but she’ll try anything to get him to warm up. Things have been getting better, but she wants to keep things headed in the right direction. In all honesty, it would just be nice to fish again. She hasn’t done it since she was a kid, probably younger than Nick and it feels nostalgic. 

“I don’t know.” He shrugs, his eyes darting between hers and Bradley in the background.

“Well-“ 

A sharp knock at the front door interrupts her before she can finish her sentence. 

“Saved by the bell.” 

“Auntie Nat!” Sadie cheers, excited for her arrival. Y/n puts her down on the ground again so she can take off for the front door. Nick gets off his stool and makes his way to the front door. 

“That’ll be her.” Bradley throws a kitchen towel over his shoulder and makes his way over to press a kiss to Y/n’s lips. 

“Thank you.” He mutters, pressing another kiss to her lips, she raises her brows in confusion.

“Fishing?” He reminds, clarifying what he was thankful for. 

She simply shakes her head, to her there’s no need for a thank you. Instead it's her turn to press a kiss to his lips before pulling him towards his front door. 

Nat is giving big hugs to both kids when they make their way into view. 

“Well aren’t we looking all domestic.” Nat grins. 

“Phoenix.” Bradley rolls his eyes, nonetheless takes a few steps forward to give her a hug, “Don’t scare her off in the first thirty seconds.”

“Rooster, you’re wearing an apron.” She continues and now it’s Y/n’s turn to laugh. 

Bradley’s cheeks turn redder than she’s ever seen at this. It takes Y/n a half second to remember his call sign and then actually process what was said. 

“Nat, this is my girlfriend Y/n.” Bradley introduces. 

“You’ve even put a title on it?” She says with faux shock. “All it’s been the past few weeks “Nat, she’s hilarious,” “Nat, she makes fun of my playlist but still kisses me,” “Nat, she lives right next door.”

“Wow, I am loving this intel.” Y/n laughs proudly. 

“Oh I am a wealth of knowledge on this man.” Nat slaps a hand on his shoulder. 

“You two are gonna be dangerous together.” Bradley comments. 

“That’s the hope.” Nat agrees. A timer beeps from the kitchen causing them to break up the conversation. Y/n and the kids go to the kitchen to investigate what was done. 

“You’re in deep my friend.” Phoenix pats a hand to his back while they both watch her and the kids make their way back to the kitchen. They can both hear Sadie tell Y/n quite loudly about how she likes blueberries in her pancakes, which all three seem to agree on. Y/n tells her she can see what she can do about it.

“I know.” He nods, looking fondly towards the kitchen but still glued to his spot next to the door. 

“I like her, you did good.” 

“I know.” 

They manage to finish everything up and get the table set up with all of the food that was prepared. Phoenix fills them in on her most recent mission and everything new down in San Diego. Her and her girlfriend are packing up their longtime apartment as they close on a house.

“So, how long have you guys been officially dating?” Phoenix asks, taking a bite of strawberry off her fork after asking. 

The two of them look at each other without an answer. The kids know, but they only just found out. They’ve only had the official title for a week. Nick took it better than either of them thought he would, but it hasn’t exactly been something to celebrate about. Unless you’re Sadie, she was a cheerleader in the living room at the news. 

“Long enough to know he has a thing about sharing the radio with someone in the car.” Y/n jabs, taking a sip of orange juice. 

“Hey!” He laughs, 

“Trust me, I know.” Nat shakes her head, “The amount of times I’ve heard him sing Hall and Oates.” 

“Phoenix, stop-”

“And the dance routines? He used to-”

“Nat!”

“Dance routine?” Y/n brows raise, she turns to face Bradley and he shakes his head in denial. 

“No comment.” He rests his arm around the back of Y/n’s chair and Nat snorts over her coffee. 

“Why haven’t I seen this dance routine?”

“Because I like you.” Bradley admits, “I don’t want to scare you off.” 

“Daddy, you can dance!” Sadie defends, “The Spice Girls are his-”

“Wow, all the women in my life are not to be trusted with anything!” Bradley interrupts and then reaches out to fistbump his son, “Nicky it’s you and be against the rest of them.” 

Nat delves into a few more stories about the ’glory days’ and some of their badass missions.

“Wait, you haven’t met Hangman yet?” Natasha gasps, setting down her fork on her plate. They’ve all long finished eating, but they remain seated being too investing in catching up. 

“You think I’ve let her meet Hangman?” Bradley scoff, dramatically shaking his head. 

“I’ve heard a few stories.” Y/n chuckles, “He’s your assistant chief, right?”

“A sentence I never thought could be uttered.” Phoenix interrupts. 

“Yeah, that’s him. We’re good now, but we definitely had to overcome a lot of differences.” Bradley admits.”

“They were enemies in flight school.” Nat shakes her head, “They could barely be in the same room.”

“Uncle Jake?” Nick questions, looking between the two aviators. 

“Yeah, Mom was actually the one that got us to get along.” Bradley admits with a swallow, “Anna was from Texas and it made the two of them thick as thieves.” 

Nat nods along with a reminiscent look in her eye. Anna was a big part of softening Hangman up. She has no doubt in her mind that without her he never would’ve moved to Southport after he retired last year without Anna in mind. 

“Alright!” Nat turns in her chair to the two kids, “Time to get swimsuits on, we’re having a beach day!”

The kids race away from the table and up the stairs. Nat grabs her duffle from the ground and makes her way upstairs to change and Y/n starts picking up plates. 

“Hey, you don’t need to clean up.” Bradley jumps to his feet. 

“Yeah, it’ll make me feel better about putting you to work later.” She throws an evil grin over her shoulder. 

“Is that so?” He asks, stepping behind her. He reaches an arm around each side of her to put the plates in the sink in front of her. He leans in a little closer and she backs up slightly into his touch. 

“Tile, remember?” She leans to arch her ass back a little further, rubbing against his front. She’s tempted to turn in his grasp. His head brushes against the side of hers, his breath hot against her ear. 

“I think I could come just from your mouth over my ear” Y/n whispers, the desperation in her voice and the tightness at the front of his jeans exposing them both. 

“We’re testing that theory at some point.” Bradley moans back, pressing her harder into the sink. This is far too dirty for a house full of three potential witnesses. 

“Dad!”

Bubble broken. Bradley takes a step back and lets out a deep exhale. The yell came from upstairs and he turns around in the kitchen. Still just them.

“Yeah, bud?” Bradley calls back. 

“I can’t find my trunks!”

“I’m coming buddy.” He gives himself another second to regain control. He mutters a simple ‘Jesus’ turning to see Y/n’s state. Her face is flushed red and it would seem he’s pushed down the strap of her shirt down her shoulder. He shakes his head simply causing Y/n to chuckle and he makes his way to help his son find swim trunks. 

After helping Nat pack a beach bag and snacks for the day, Bradley and Y/n make their way to Hank’s to pick up the tile and start that project. After getting everything they need and setting it all up, they get started. 80s rock plays softly in the back, it’s Bradley’s old radio from his garage sitting in the corner of the bathroom. 

She wears simple overalls that already have paint, grout, and stain stuck to them and he knows he’s seen her wear them frequently for messy projects. Yellow paint splattered in certain spots. The same yellow from her kitchen.

“Have you ever done this before, or are you trying to impress me?” She watches him mix the grout, checking the instructions on the back of the bag a few times. 

Bradley doesn’t even pick up his eyes from the bag, a smirk appearing. 

“Is it working?”

“If this isn’t crooked at the end of the day, yes.” 

He finally looks up and she has a kind knowing smile resting on her face. Her love for teasing him never fading, and he wouldn’t have it any other way. 

They manage to tile two whole walls while working together while using the same batch of grout. It took a few adjustments to get it thick enough not to be runny, but the two of them work well to quickly finish things up. They get distracted a few times with each other but still manage to finish the room before the others make their way up from the beach. 

The kids seem exhausted from their day, and Y/n takes Nat through the house showing her the place. She tells her the plans she has and the projects they’ve already completed. Nat is listening eagerly, loving her vision for the space. By the end of the tour Phoenix wrangles the two kids and get them back to the Bradshaw house for showers before dinner.

“No, you should head over there. You don’t get to see Phoenix often either.” Y/n insists. 

“You want to join?” 

“Maybe later.” She slides her hands around his back to pull him in for a hug. “I have a few more things I want to work on. I feel like I’m in a groove right now! And it would probably be good for you and the kids to spend time with her.” 

He presses his lips to hers in a quick peck, followed by two more before he makes his way to her front door. He knows that she’s probably right, it would be good for him to spend some time with just Nat and the kids.

He makes his way over to the house and they decide to have a seafood boil down on the beach. They manage to stay out down by the water until it’s dark out before they make their way up the trail to the house. It’s movie night, Sadie insists Phoenix chooses the movie since she’s the guest for the weekend. She did whine a few times about the lack of Y/n, but Bradley tells her that she might come later. Bradley plans to run next door to see if she wants to come over for some ice cream with them after the movie. She did say maybe later. Over an hour after they settled in on the couches, the credits roll on the movie and Sadie and Nick both leap up from the couch. 

“Ice cream time!” They make their way to the kitchen counter. 

“Alright, I’m gonna see if I can tempt Y/n to join.” Bradley puts on his shoes and makes his way to the front door. Nat makes her way into the kitchen to get out all of the ice cream fixins for everyone. Bradley hops the short fence between their property, saving himself the few seconds of walking down all the way to the sidewalk. He’s feeling impatient to see her. He takes her front steps in one stride and his heart drops at the sight of her front door open wide. 

“Y/n?” His voice calls loudly as he cautiously walks through the open door. The light in the kitchen is on, casting a faint glow in the living room. He reaches to turn on a light and when it comes on, that’s when his pulse really jumps. 

A pool of red blood stretching across the floor, splattered on the wall. No sign of Y/n. He shouts her name again, and one more time as he makes a lap through the first floor looking for any sign of her. He checks the whole house, nothing. He makes his way downstairs when he hears a noise. Nick is waiting at the front door, shaking in place. His gaze focused on the red that takes over the floor. 

Bradley flies down the stairs and picks up Nick on his way out, not slowing for a second. He doesn’t know what happened, but Nick can’t be seeing this. 

“Bradley! Bradley!” A frantic voice calls. Bradley turns, Nick still in his arms. Iris is standing on her porch, her face stuck in a frown obviously upset. 

“What happened? What’s going on?” 

“It’s Y/n. Something happened with a nail gun, it recoiled and went into her leg. They were worried about it hitting an artery. EMTs picked her up a couple hours ago.” 

“Hours ago!” He shouts, how did he not know about this? How has there been no call? No sirens?

Iris simply nods while Bradley takes off in a sprint for his house. He tries to leave the kids at the house with Nat so he can go to the hospital himself, but it seems it would take longer to convince everyone to stay. They all climb into the bronco and Bradley puts the pedal to the metal. 

✿

The hospital has a chill in the air that doesn’t pair well with the summer heat. The air conditioning is working overtime to keep everyone cool. A little too cool for Y/n’s liking. The only source of warmth is a hand wrapped around her own. Her eyes open before rapidly shutting at the bright light overhead.

“Shh, take it easy.” A familiar voice calls out. Y/n struggles to get her eyes to focus while rapidly blinking. It smells sterile in the air and she can hear the sound of the EKG machine reflecting her pulse in steady beeps. 

“Hi darling.” The voice calls out again.

She stills at the pet name, suddenly making it her mission to focus her vision. Her head is pounding.

“Matt?”

y'all i'm sorry for that cliffhanger... but i'm really not LMAOOOO!! let me know what you guys think below plz! 💛

[skibasyndrome]

13!!

Thank you so much for sending me a prompt, yay!!! 💜💜💜 The sentence was “we can go for as long as you want” 🤭 Hope you enjoy! They ended up surprisingly dorky (but also lovey-dovey <3)

cw: nsfw

Simon doesn't know how Wille does it. There's something about the way he uses his mouth that always has Simon's toes curling after only a few seconds. It's good, so, so good, but so, so frustrating.

He's got a hand wrapped around him, firm and warm and, oh, when Simon looks down he's reminded of just how pretty Wille's hands are, and that is not helping, but what's even worse, even better, is the way he's holding him so he can press a line of kisses up the length, until he reaches the head. Simon gasps when Wille finishes by wrapping his lips around the tip at once. Hot and wet and like he knows - he does know - that that alone is going to make Simon's bones melt inside of his body. Every time he tries a new move, a new way of getting his mouth on Simon, it's like Simon has involuntarily leveled up and his gameplay is nowhere near developed enough to survive the new challenge. Today, Wille seems set on making Simon lose his mind entirely, whatever little of it is left after they have done this a few times already. Today, Wille has one hand curled around Simon's hip, the other slowly inching down Simon's cock, giving more and more space for Wille's mouth. He's only halfway down, when Simon has to capitulate. A hot surge, somewhere down between his legs is telling him he needs to stop this. He quickly lifts his head from where he's been digging it into his pillow and uses his hand to shove Wille off. Faintly, he hopes he wasn't too rough about it, but at least he can breathe again. Now that Wille's tongue and lips and mouth is gone. Eyes pressed shut, trying hard to stumble back from the dangerously near edge, Simon is trying to get in some much-needed air. It's only when he feels Wille's palm on his thigh, warm and comforting and, god, he's thinking about hands again, that he reopens his eyes. His heart gives a painful little squeeze when he's met with Wille's face, contorted in worry. His beautiful, beautiful big eyes are scanning Simon's face.

"Are you okay?" he's asking, and the words arrive in Simon's brain a little muddled. Before he has the chance to search for an adequate reply, Wille is talking again. "Did I do something wrong? I thought maybe if I tried to, like, make my tongue flat and-" "No!" Simon just about yells. This is ridiculous. Simon can't possibly let Wille think something so ridiculous, when Wille just rearranged Simon's brain from left to right and right to left so good, that Simon doesn't think he'll ever be able to string together a coherent sentence again. "I-" The sentence is having a lot of trouble coming together. Maybe part of it is the shame that's burning hot and bright on Simon's cheeks right now. Wille never has to pause when Simon goes down on him. Wille is perfectly composed and a beautiful moaning and groaning and blabbering mess when Simon sucks him off, but he never has to shove Simon off of him because he's a millisecond from coming, like, a minute in. Simon swallows, briefly presses his eyes shut again. Wille's hand is still rubbing comforting circles into the skin of his thigh. Simon takes a deep breath. "Was close," he rushes out, hoping to gods that he doesn't believe in, that his voice doesn't sound quite this pathetic to Wille's ears.

For a mortifying second, there's silence. When he looks at Wille, he just sees him staring back, unmoving. But then finally his face morphs into a smile, big and bright and beautiful. "Awesome!" Simon thinks the brain damage must've been more severe than anticipated. He furrows his brow.

"I know you can go more than once," he says, and there's a glint in his eyes, a mischievous curl to his lips, a redness burning on his cheeks that matches the one Simon is feeling on himself right now. "We can just..." Wille's eyes run down Simon's body, then back up once, surely deepening his blush. "We can just... take breaks if you need them." Wille shrugs and Simon watches with his stomach dropping how his hand slides down, over his tummy and towards his cock. Wille's fingers brush against him, almost timidly, play with the coarse hair there for a second. Simon feels and sees himself twitch in reaction. "We can go for as long as you want," he tells Simon, finally, finally gingerly wrapping his hand around his cock again, and Simon is right back in dangerous territory. "Yeah?" he asks, swallowing hard when Wille uses his thumb on him. Wille nods eagerly. Then, he pauses, biting his lip in a way that lets Simon know he's in trouble. With his hand still, again, stroking Simon, slow and deliberate and maddeningly perfect, he speaks again, his eyes glowing. "I could try to see how often I can make you come," he says, voice laced with so much joy that Simon can't help but let out a small giggle. "Wille," he whines, arm draped over his face like that will stop him from actively melting under Wille's silly and dorky and beautiful and way too confident gaze. But he knows Wille understands. Wille knows this means please and holy shit and I fucking love you all that once.

"So it's good, yeah?" Wille's enthusiasm is unwavering. And so cute that Simon needs to kiss him so so badly. He nods slowly. "Very," he says. "Very, very good." Something isn't clicking. Wille is still looking at him like he doesn't get it. Like everything is perfectly peachy fine, when they specifically wanted to take some time today, make use of Linda and Sara being out. Try all kinds of different things. Things that they won't get to if Simon is done after one minute. So maybe Simon needs to clarify. "I mean," he starts, and Wille's hand strays, comes dangerously close to his barely flagged erection. He sucks in a sharp breath. "I mean, I was going to come. Too soon." Wille is looking at him like they're not speaking the same language. "Why would that be bad?" he has the audacity to ask.

Simon can't do this. He flops backwards with a groan, out of Wille's line of sight, and raises his hands to his face, heels digging into his eye sockets. He feels the mattress shift down at his feet, and suddenly Wille is squeezing in next to him. He runs a frustratingly calming hand up Simon's chest. "But I wanted you to," he says, and Simon can't deal with how sad he sounds about it. He loves Wille, he really does, with all his heart, but sometimes it feels like all Simon does is spell things out for him. "I know..." Simon lets out another groan. "But I wanted this to last, okay? I wanna- you know? Just for a little longer." Another deep breath before he goes on, a bit more quietly. "Don't want to have to stop." Wille grabs his elbows, gently pushes them away, forces Simon to face him again. With a soft smile, he leans further up and presses a kiss to Simon's lips. "But you can come and we can not stop afterwards," he says, like it's the easiest thing in the world. Simon is not so sure. But Wille won't let that stop him.

Feel free to send me some prompts from that list, or just make some up <3 Or read my other ficlets here

also pls let me know what you think <3

[florencemtrash]

The Graveyard Shift: Chapter IX

Simon Riley x f!Reader

Summary: Simon Riley is a lonely grave keeper in Victorian England who puts a marriage proposal ad in the London newspaper. He's ready to make his house a home, but can he convince his new wife that he can be her safe space, or will the secret she carries threaten their newfound happiness?

Warnings: MDNI, explicit content, fluff

The Graveyard Shift Masterlist

Masterlist of Masterlists

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It had been months now and still they had not been with each other as married couples do. With another man this would have terrified Y/n to no end — a dissatisfied husband was one that threatened divorce — but Simon worried her for another reason. 

For the first time in her young adult life Y/n had become insecure of her body. In the early mornings either before Simon woke or after he left to tend the graves, she would sit in front of her vanity and prod at all the soft and hard parts of her body. She would touch her hair and stare at her hands. 

Wondering. 

She’d focused so much on surviving the wrath and wanting of men that she’d never learned how to handle her own desires. Never before had she pictured what it might look like to love the man she was married to. To want the man she was married to. To want him to want her back. 

Simon had changed all of that. 

He was a living furnace beneath the covers and she clung to him for warmth, stealing the heat from his skin as she burrowed further into his side. A rumble of laughter echoed in his chest just beneath her ear and she was powerless to stop her own joy at the sound. 

“You purr like a cat, Y/n.” 

“And you rumble worse than a steam engine,” she countered. 

Simon smiled, nosing at the crown of her head as he breathed in her scent. “You’re making it very difficult for me to leave this bed.” 

The winter winds banged against the windows and frost bloomed along the windowsills. Just yesterday Y/n had finished the laundry and the clean downy sheets were making him soft and slow. But there were always chores to be done if one looked, and Simon was not an idle man. 

He noticed when his wife grew still and silent beside him, as though waiting for a blow to come. 

“Darling, we spoke about this,” he whispered, gently smoothing her chin with his thumb and forefinger.

“I know.” 

“Then tell me what you’re thinking.” 

“It’s not—” 

“Darling.” 

Y/n shivered, feeling warmth flush her skin. Want pressed against her from the inside out, like there was something in her chest that wanted — no, needed — to crawl into Simon’s arms. She was aware of every movement she made against her husband as she propped herself up on her elbow. Carefully, she leaned over Simon’s face, feeling his breath curl around her neck. 

His lips lay flat and severe, brows drawn together in displeasure at his wife’s hesitance. He wanted her to tell him everything. To trust him with everything. 

She smoothed the lines in his forehead, coaxing his crow’s feet to deepen as his lips twitched in satisfaction. She was hovering very close, chest pressing against his and then—

There. 

Her lips finally met his, as sweet and warm as melted chocolate. Her breath curled into his open mouth, entering his lungs and setting his chest on fire with longing. Too soon she drew back. Her eyelids fluttered open, slow and heady. Her hair tickled his neck. 

With the slightest shake of her hand, she took his hand and coaxed it up her side. 

“I want you to touch me.” 

Simon swallowed thickly, feeling his blood rush from his head down south. “Y/n—” 

“I mean it this time, Simon. I trust you.” 

At those three words, Simon came to attention, sitting up in bed. She helped unbutton his shirt, tugging it off his body and taking a moment to fold it carefully in her lap. Simon smiled, took it from her hands, and tossed it expertly onto the corner chair. 

She’d seen him shirtless before many times but… it was different now. His skin glowed with barely constrained fervor. His eyes looked almost feverish, but his hands were careful as he began undoing the ties of her nightgown. 

“I’m grateful we’re doing this now,” Simon murmured. He slid the wide neck of her dress down, exposing naked shoulders that he pressed open-mouth kisses to. 

“Why?” Y/n asked breathlessly. When his lips traveled up to her neck she let out a small gasp as his tongue traced the blood rushing beneath her skin. 

He pulled her dress down further and further… and further until the fabric was bunched up at her waist. His fingers ghosted over her ribs as light as air before splaying over her back. Hot and heavy. “I don’t know how to undo your day dresses.” 

Y/n thought her skin was burning as he spread kisses over her chest and sucked. Nails scratched gently over her back in ways that made her arch, coaxing him closer and closer. The lower his hands wandered, the more she clutched him close, wrapping her arms around his neck and burying her face in the crook of his neck. 

She was shaking, not in fear, but in excitement. In anticipation. He lowered her to the bed, pulling her dress off her body and staring. She shivered in the cold and under his gaze, squirming uncomfortably until he finally whispered, “I can’t believe my luck. You’re beautiful, Y/n.” 

How could she have ever worried about Simon’s opinion of her? 

She cleared her throat, smiling bashfully. “It’s impolite to leave a woman waiting.” 

He smiled, wide and unfiltered. “Is that so? Well we can’t have that can we?” He shrugged off the last of his clothes, dropping them to the floor with a rustle of trousers. 

Y/n gasped lightly, a fact that did please Simon. He climbed over her, pulling the covers up to rest loosely around his lips. On instinct she bent her legs, wrapping them around the backs of his thighs as he lowered himself on top of her, melting into her form. 

She was caged between his arms and pressed against his front. But she’d never felt more free. Never felt more safe. She reached up to trace the scar that ran across his cheek. The one that pulled at his smile and dipped into his lips. 

“Brutal. I know.” Simon murmured, suddenly looking shy. 

Y/n blinked up at her husband. “You’re the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen, Simon Riley.” 

Oh how he melted at the sound of his name on her lips.

“And you,” he kissed the corners of her mouth, “Are the most divine creature I’ve ever laid my eyes upon.” 

Simon had never believed in talk of the occult. In witches or spells or angels or spirits. But when he felt Y/n shiver and break apart at his touch. Heard every sigh and moan that slipped from her lips like silk. When he dropped to his arms, sinking into her until there was no space left between them, he was certain that what he was experiencing could only be described as magic. 

Simon was so very warm, even naked under the sheets. 

“No.” The command was so unlike his wife that he paused. She was wrapped around his middle, cheek pressing into the ridges of his spine as he tried to slip out of bed. Her nails dug into the soft skin of his stomach. 

“Aren’t you hungry?” Simon asked, “We’ve been in bed all day.” 

Y/n blinked wearily, feeling the protest between her legs and the exhaustion seeping into her bones. The last thing she wanted to do was make lunch. Or was it dinner time now? But if her husband was hungry she should—

Simon pushed her back into bed, pulling the covers up to hide her from the cold and kissed her lips. “I’ll be right back.” 

As promised he returned soon after with bread, meat, cheese, and jam from the reserves. It wasn’t the best meal, but it was the fastest, and all Simon really wanted was to rejoin his wife in bed as soon as possible. 

He was immensely pleased to find his wife still deep beneath the covers. The shape of her curled beneath the blanket with only her hair splayed open on the pillow like a painting. 

They ate quietly in bed, not caring when a drop of jam hit the blanket. Simon scooped it up with his fingers, plopping it in his mouth without a care in the world as Y/n giggled with the jam knife in her hand. 

It was a small cottage in the middle of winter. The ground was frozen solid and wouldn’t bend beneath Simon’s shovel and the meal they ate was as common as could be. But for a long while Simon couldn’t imagine anyone happier than them. Couldn’t imagine that there was a single soul in the world who could understand what it was like to have decades of loneliness fall away to nothing. 

It was wintertime. The ground was frozen over. The graves Simon had prepared were slow to fill. The reserves were stock full and work was idle. 

In previous years this season had always been hell for Simon. Weeks spent indoors with nothing but Riley and snow for company and the sun in short supply had nearly driven him to madness. He’d go days without speaking, falling into a melancholy that was difficult to shake off come springtime. He’d sleep too much but never feel rested. He’d—

“Yes!” Y/n exclaimed, grabbing two of Simon’s pieces from the board. She’d never played checkers before and — after four consecutive games — was finally winning. She furrowed her brows in concentration, planning ahead four, five, six moves, and tapped at the pile of checkers stacked neatly at her side of the table. 

Simon smiled at her, moving one of his pieces forward a square without thinking. He didn’t care if he won at checkers when he’d won at everything else. 

Five turns later and Y/n clapped her hands in triumph, waking Riley up from his slumber before the fireplace. The dog regarded her with a weak wag of his tail before tucking his head into his paws and falling fast asleep. 

“I won!” She clapped her hand over her mouth almost in disbelief. 

“Don’t act surprised, darling. You’ve been winning the last few turns.” 

“But still!” 

Simon chuckled and flicked one of the game pieces in the air, tossing it like a coin before snatching it out of the air. Y/n didn’t know why she was so affected by that action, but suddenly she was walking around the table. After a moment of hesitation she coyly settled into her husband’s lap, wrapping her arms around his neck and pinching his short hair in between her fingers.

“You didn’t let me win did you, Simon?”

“Let you win? Never.” 

“Never.” 

He closed his fist over his heart. “I am a man of honor.” 

She nuzzled into the curve of his neck, breathing deeply and feeling the tension leave her body. She had never realized how tightly wound she’d been until meeting Simon, always waiting for something to go… wrong. Always afraid to ask in case it was too much. 

She didn’t want to keep living like that. 

Hesitantly, she spoke. “If you are a man of honor, Simon.” She fingered the neck of his shirt, feeling the stitches where she’d mended small tears. He hummed for her to continue. “May I have a reward for winning my first game of checkers?” 

Simon glanced up at the ceiling, giving her question more thought than she’d been expecting. “Only if I may have a reward for winning the first three games.” 

She unbuttoned, then buttoned, the top of his shirt. “What… What reward were you hoping for?” She asked carefully. 

Simon brought her hands up to his neck, helping her remove his shirt before kissing her throat reverently. “The kind of reward I think you will enjoy.” 

She became boneless in his hands, allowing herself to be carried up to the bedroom with his hand beneath her skirts before being stripped of her clothes. She was water flowing over Simon’s body, being moved to pleasure over and over and over again until all she was capable of was closing her eyes and letting sleep take her.

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Taglist: @marigold-morelli @camcvpidd @slightlypossessed @pistachioslife @imarotternotawriter @enfppuff @squishytap @taxidermypossum @sawendel @nicolebarnes @other-fandoms-reblogs @blush-haze @just-lost-inbetween-worlds @blumenkorba @little-mini-me-world @chxosangxl @rotten-womb

[sol-consort]

"The dog that weeps after it kills is no better than the dog that doesn’t. My guilt will not purify me"

that qoute lives in my head rent free.

(who said it, btw? I tried to find a source before the tumblr user @/ojibwa posted it and nothing came up)

[mittenkisses]

bathing with them

ft : dorm leaders (riddle, leona, azul, kalim, vil, idia, malleus)

a/n : i crave nonsexual intimacy

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝ 🐚

riddle takes a bit of convincing. he prefers to be independent, and that extends to almost every aspect of his life, including this one. it takes a while for him to give, but he's not resistant to your puppy eyes. his tub is barely big enough to comfortably fit the two of you. there are rose petals and a sweet honeysuckle scented soap, as per the queen's rules. his muscles are still a bit stiff after getting in, but when you begin lathering soap on his back and rubbing it in, he practically melts in your arms.

leona has to be dragged out of bed. he showers when he has to, but he's not a big fan of his fur getting wet—plus, he'd much rather sleep the day away. still, after a bit of convincing he lets you take him to the bath, although he might make you run it again if the water temperature isn't warm enough. he prefers to wash himself, but he doesn't swat you away if you want to help him out a little. you try reaching up to wash behind his ears, but his glare quickly changes your mind.

azul is, frankly, scared of being so vulnerable in front of another person. especially when that vulnerability involves his body. maybe he's not as self-conscious as he once was, but it doesn't simply disappear. still, he caves eventually, though he covers himself as much as he can with his arms. he's worried how you'll react, but when you don't say anything he begins to loosen up, just a little. he shivers when you gently trace his stretch marks. he rushes through it and gets out of the bath fairly quickly, but it's a start.

kalim's bathtub is so big it may as well be a swimming pool, with about every product you can think of. he's happy to share it all with you, filling the water with suds and making the entire room smell wonderful. he insists on washing your hair for you, and when it dries, it's softer than ever before. the two of you stay in until the water is cold and your skin is wrinkled, having spent half the time just talking and playing.

vil has only the best products, and they all have matching lavender scents, too. he narrates as he washes you, telling you what each thing does and how to properly use them. his skin is soft but his touch is a bit rough, although it's all worth it in the end when you come out feeling cleaner than ever. he has fluffy, warm towels and robes waiting for you once you're done, though even after you step out, he has plenty more skincare items to use on you.

idia curses himself for not making his tablet waterproof as he stumbles his way through his words, trying not to look at you. he flusters easily, and there's a faint pink tinge to his hair that doesn't go away. he lets you wash him for a bit before it fully sets in what you're doing and he takes over. in return, he gives you a nice shoulder and back massage, being (un)surprisingly skilled at working with his hands. after he's dressed, he's gone instantly. his dating sims hadn't quite prepared him for this.

malleus finds it amusing how little you fear him; the idea of bathing with him would have anyone else cowering, and yet here you are. he teases you a little to coax you into washing him—he's royalty, he's always had someone else to help him, and you wouldn't make the crown prince bathe himself, would you? it's all bullshit, of course, he's very capable of washing himself, but he loves having all your attention on him.

[tbaluver]

Hiii! If it's okay can I request reader pranking LADS men with 'lets breakup' just to see their reaction? ;D

Break Up Prank - The Love And DeepSpace Men

pairings in order: xavier x reader, zayne x reader, rafayel x reader, sylus x reader, caleb x reader genre/tags: angsty w/ comfort-ish at the end a/n: hihi anonnie ! ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡ i ened up writing this more angsty mainly bc i just think they would be devasted if you ever wanted to leave them .·°՞(¯□¯)՞°·. anyways i hope this was alright and that you enjoy reading ! (∩˃o˂∩)♡ any likes and reblogs are always appreciated! enjoy!

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆

Xavier:

“This bread should go well with the chocolate milk. Would you like to try?” He asks, offering it to you with a soft smile.

You take a deep breath, keeping your voice as steady as possible. “I think we should break up.” The moment the words leave your mouth, you regret it instantly. You watched his eyes widen and his entire body freeze. His hands, still holding the bread midair, slowly lowers.

“what?” He says weakly, trying to process what’s happening. “I..I don't get it.” His smile slowly disappears, a frown replacing it instead. His eyes search yours desperately to find any clue, any hints to find an answer. “Did I do something wrong?” He stammered, his gaze shifting downward as his heart sank all the way down to his body.

You don’t think you can go further with this prank any longer, feeling immediately guilty. “I was just kidding! It’s a prank, Xavier,” You say, trying to lighten the mood but yet the tension in the air still remains.

He doesn’t move, his eyes are uncertain, flicking between you and his plate. “Are you sure?” His voice was quiet, trying to convince himself it was a joke but a part of him still thought otherwise. “If there is something wrong, if there’s anything I can do-” He trails off but before he can say anything more, you rush to his side, your arms wrapping around him tightly.

“I'm so sorry, Xavier. I shouldn't have done that. Tara and I saw it online, and I thought it would be funny. I promise I love you, and I would never want to leave you.” For a while, he doesn’t respond, but slowly, he pulls you closer, burying his face into your neck. His breath is a little shaky, but you feel his shoulders relax just a little.

“I didn't want to lose you,” he murmurs, his voice muffled against your skin. His hair tickles your neck and you can feel the soft sigh of relief as the tension leaves his body.

“Do you still want to eat your snacks?” you pull away slightly, cupping his face but he shakes his head. His arms tighten around you as he buries himself back into your neck.

“Let's just stay like this for a while,” He murmurs, his voice still slightly shaky. His appetite has vanished entirely, replaced by a need for comfort and that you’re both going to be okay. He should’ve never given bread another chance.

Zayne:

“You shouldn’t sit like that. It can lead to lower back discomfort." Zayne says softly, his hands carefully help you adjust your position as he places a pillow behind your head.

“I don't think this is working out. I think we should end this.” You kept your tone flat, not a hint of a smile or a crack of a laugh to give away the joke. The air around you both goes still, and Zayne stops mid-sentence on his lecture for your posture and health. His throat goes dry while his eyes narrow as if trying to process what you’ve said.

There was an awkward silence between you both until he cleared his throat, adjusting his tie as if it were the only thing he could focus on to keep himself together. “May I ask where this is coming from, my love?” His nickname for you came into a hushed whisper, unsure if he could even use that name at this moment.

“Can we please talk it out? If it’s my nagging that’s become too much, then I’ll stop..my only intention is to look after you.” He’s trying to keep his composure, but you can hear the hurt in his words. “If there's anything else I've done or said, anything I can fix together with you.. I promise-”

You can feel the guilt creeping in each time he speaks. You couldn’t ignore how it affected you and how he was so serious and vulnerable. This prank has gone a little too far, and the laughter you held back was now gone. ”Zayne, wait! I'm so sorry it was just a prank!” You rushed, “I thought it would be funny..I saw this video online..”

Zayne's eyes flutter close as he sighs heavily. “Forgive me..I forgot I'm dating a comedian,” He mutters under his breath, a half smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He shakes his head, a slow exhale escapes past his lips. “I'm glad everything’s alright. May I?” He steps closer to you, his arm outstretched into an embrace. But before you can say anything else, he playfully flicks your forehead.

“Hey!” You protest, but you can feel the soft chuckle rumble in his chest as you pull into his embrace. His breath tickles your skin, and you can’t help but smile, knowing how much loved you are.

“I only ask for you not to prank me like that again. I'm already growing enough white hairs because of you.”

Rafayel:

You instantly regretted ever finishing that sentence.

You watched the way the light in his eyes disappear. His heart seemed to crack, threatening to shatter into a million pieces as the pain washed over his face.

His nebula eyes looked at you in disbelief, unable to comprehend the words that just left your lips were true. The brush in his hand slipped from his fingers as his whole body went limp. His lips trembled, fighting back the flood of emotions threatening to break through.

“I-was it....do you really want that?” His voice shook, the words barely escaping past his lips. His chest tightened, hoping he didn’t hear the answer he dreads. “Was there something I’ve done, cutie?” His gaze drops, his lips pursing as he tries to recall something, anything, that would explain what he did wrong. “I can do better..we can work it out together, yeah? Tell me what’s wrong..” His eyes were pleading, desperate.

You could see the depth of his pain and the way he blamed himself, even though you knew that this was just a prank. It broke your heart, and you couldn’t keep going, the guilt was suffocating enough. “Raf, no! You did nothing wrong. It was just a prank!”

His mouth fell open in shock. “...what?” His voice was weak, a soft gasp escaping him as he dramatically collapsed back onto the couch. “Pranks are supposed to be funny! That wasn’t funny!” He groaned, relief flooding through him. “Dun ever do that to me again, hmph..” He mumbles, his hand still over his face as he tries to collect himself. “Hold me..”

He lets you pull him into your arms, his cheek pressing into your shoulder, the weight of his body finally relaxing as he feels you close. He let out a deep breath as if he were holding it in for too long. “I thought my heart stopped for a moment, cutie..” He murmurs, “Promise me we’ll work through everything?”

Sylus:

“Sweetie-” Sylus’s voice echoes at the front door. You were already in the living room, arms crossed, while you tried to keep your face unreadable.

“We should break up.” You say flatly.

He flinched at the sudden words. The small box he had wanted to surprise you with was clutched tightly as he tried to process your words. His face was in disbelief. His eyes searched for yours, trying to find some sign of a joke. But your expression was cold and unreadable. He set the box down on the table, his movements felt too slow.

“Is there a particular reason you feel this way?” His voice was barely a whisper. You didn’t answer right, the silence in the air was heavy, suffocating even. He took a step forward towards you, hesitant. “Is there any way I can fix this?” The hurt in his eyes was palpable as he slowly reached for you, cupping your face gently. His thumb brushed over your cheek, searching for any sign that could give him an answer.

But you couldn’t hold it in anymore. You felt the weight of his touch, the weight of his words, and the devastation in his eyes. “Sylus..I’m sorry, it was just a prank..”

His breath hitched, his thumb stopping as he froze. His eyes closed as he inhaled sharply as he’d been hit by a wave of relief. “What will I do with you..” He muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose before his eyes fluttered open slowly, amusement flicking across his face. “Are you sure there’s nothing wrong?” He asked, raising a brow.

You shook your head quickly, guilt flooding you. “No Sylus. You’re perfect. I’m sorry.. It was funnier in my head. I shouldn’t have done that.”

He sighs, shaking his head. “You had me worried there for a second, sweetie,” Sylus speaks quietly. His fingers graze your hair as he pulls you into an embrace. His lips press softly to the top of your head, and the fear of losing you again still lingers in him.

Caleb:

“Hey pipsqueak, what’re you in the mood for? I’m thinking maybee something savory, or how about something spicy?” He glanced over at you. His warm smile was infectious, as always, but you tried to stay strong. His expression faltered when he saw the look on your face.

“I don’t think this is working out anymore. Let's break up.”

Each word stung, his smile immediately disappearing. He blinked, his mind racing to process what you had just said, the grip on the wooden spoon tightened without him realizing it. Maybe he didn’t hear you right, yeah definitely.

“Sorry..maybe you want something sweet? Or if you’re tired of my cooking, how about takeout?” He tilts his head, refusing to believe it.

“No, Caleb. Let's break up.” The words felt sharper this time, slicing his heart into a million little pieces that no one could ever pick up. You could see it in his eyes, his entire world was crumbling. Every muscle in his body tensed as his breath caught in his throat. His face faltered for a second, his brow furrowing deeply as he set the spoon down with trembling hands.

“Pip-Y/n..where is this coming from?” His voice is quiet now as he takes a step closer. His purple eyes were a mix of confusion and hurt, his hands remained stiff by his sides, almost as if they didn’t know what to do. “Hey..what’s going on? Talk to me, please..” His voice cracked at the end, desperate.

Even though there was only a few inches of distance between you, it felt like the distance was growing further and further. “I can fix it..please..just tell me what to do..anything..” His chest tightened as his mind spun in a thousand different directions. What did he do? What went wrong?

You could see the pain written across his face, a mixture of panic, disbelief, and heartache that made yours ache. Without thinking, you reached out to him, wrapping your arms around him tightly. Caleb’s body was stiff at first as if he didn’t know how to respond, but once he felt your arms tighten, he exhaled slowly.

“I’m sorry, Caleb..I shouldn’t have said that. It was just a stupid prank,” you whispered. However, the words didn’t sink in right away. His body remained frozen, still processing everything.

He pulled back slightly, his hands shaking as he cupped your face gently, his thumb brushing over your cheek like he was trying to make sure you were real. “Really? You’re not leaving?”

You nodded, “I’m not. I love you, and I won’t ever leave you.”

He exhaled sharply, his body finally relaxing against you as the tension in his body began to unwind. “You almost got me there, pipsqueak...” He let out a weak laugh, his voice still shaky as he pressed a soft kiss to your head. “Maybe you should stick to cilantro-flavored toothpaste pranks next time..”

ʚɞ cr. for the divider @/ cafekitsune

ʚɞ thank you to my beta readers for helping me with this ! @ilovemitsuya and @pomegranatepip MWAH ₊˚⊹ᰔ

ʚɞ my other works if you want to check it out! Love And DeepSpace Masterlist , Pg.2

[scribeofmorpheus]

Why Dragon Age Veilguard isn't a "Cathedral"

Concept art by Matt Rhodes

"To disinherit the storylines of past games goes directly against the notion of building cathedrals."

What is inherent with Veilguard that keeps bothering me is the fact that the world's choices truly didn't matter--and it doesn't simply bother me from a player perspective, it's not simply a grievance borne of frustration to what I (as a longtime fan) have lost. It's about the very culture of the arts under capitalism's new media habituation cycle [x][x].

Yes, I spent hours of my life playing and replaying each instalment of Dragon Age. Yes, I painstakingly curated a 'canon' world state by replaying what came before in preparation for Veilguard. Yes, I am even more unsatisfied with the end product--time hasn't helped, it's just widened the divide. But, and I can't stress this enough, these very personal gripes aren't what hit home the most. It's the inherent disregard of legacy. A legacy that the previous writers and game developers were building towards.

In the DAV artbook, "cathedral" is the word used to describe the process of making a game. Matt Rhodes' exact words are: "One artist can make a painting, but it takes a team to build a cathedral." Cathedrals took centuries to build. The architect who drafted the first blueprints would likely never see his work realised, he had to rely on those who came after him, like-minded and passionate, to see it through--for the culture, for the future, for legacy. Painters took on several apprentices for this reason too--giant frescoes were not completed by one man's hand, even if it is one man's name that immortalises them. Similarly, if you weave a narrative around choice, what good does it do to take it away at the final act if not to fall to caricature?

To disinherit the storylines of past games goes directly against the notion of building cathedrals.

Late-stage capitalism and profit-margin-obsessed game producers forcing developers to churn out meager content, to make a known brand into something it's not, to chase a fad or a popular trend... o, how reductive and cliche you've been forced to become Bioware. We have lost the cultural thought patterns relative to Cathedrals. We know only of barn-raised churches--done in a day but unlikely to last the turn of the seasons.

And don't even get me started on the music of Veilguard either. From Origins to World of Warcraft to Everquest to Baldur's Gate to Dungeon Siege, you can hear the intricate interconnected weave of sounds inspired by the Dungeons and Dragons-esque fantasy genre. You hear it in the repeated use of certain instruments, in the harmonic weeping notes of a bard-like singer or the foreboding echoes of drums as if of war. In tavern songs. But then, rather than hire someone who loves these worlds and this genre, who is a hungry artist looking to make a name, a legacy if you will, for themselves with a spectacular score, you hire any already sated composer, one well-into the encroaching years of career fatigue, whose notes repeat in countless projects, who feels less concise and more uninterested with each new project. One who has long since cemented his legacy. Someone in it for a paycheck and nothing else! And, to top it off, you let him compose something so minimalist? I am offended actually.

Cathedrals! We should have witnessed the final tile being placed on the Dragon Age cathedral. Instead, some architects walked up, tore down the interior and installed IKEA furniture and called it authentic before having to call the previous architects to come and fix the "load-bearing issues", forcing them to rush and add a coat of varnish and a few 'aged' details for authenticity.

[meowdei]

part two

Starting an internship at the company Satoru’s father owns but you don’t know who he is just yet.

He’s annoying. He always comes back from lunch late, lets his phone ring at his desk (that’s conveniently placed next to yours) past the three ring policy, writes emails with silly and immature sign-offs, cracks jokes during meetings, and somehow, despite always finishing his paperwork late, he never manages to lose his damn job.

You try to mind your own business. But you can’t help but feel him slowly grate at your nerves as he acts so unprofessional and for some weird reason, not one person seems to care.

He seems pretty intrigued with you, too, if matters couldn’t get worse.

“Hey,” he grins. You try to ignore the tilt of his lips in amusement as you just barely fight off rolling your eyes.

“Can I help you with something?” You sigh, “I’m currently in the middle of something that requires my full attention, but maybe we could—”

“You really love your office jargon,” he hums, cutting you off with a wider grin, “so dedicated.”

“Oh, my apologies,” you smile tightly. He seems to straighten a little, some sick, twisted form of excitement rushing through his system at the way he seems to get under your skin. “Allow me to use simpler language for you to understand: go away, I’m busy.”

Someone has to stand up to this prick, you think. He puts in half the effort, and somehow, you’re pretty sure your boss has a soft spot for him. You don’t understand it, and quite frankly, you’ll be damned if a lazy, lackluster man snags a promotion before your hardworking self.

“Oh wow,” he snorts, “breaking your strictly professional streak, are you? You must be really occupied. I guess I’ll borrow your stapler later.”

Gritting your teeth, you give him yet another tight lipped smile before grabbing the stapler off your desk and handing it to him. (A small part of you resists the urge to throw it square at his face. Maybe the image of him on the floor with a bloodied nose would make your day a little easier, but then you’re sure you’d be jobless).

“Here you go,” you say with as much kindness as you can muster. (It’s not a lot). “Please do bring it back when you’re done. Some of us actually complete paper work, so the stapler is a necessity.”

“Oh yeah?” He tilts his head, eyes sparkling with mischief, “don’t worry, I won’t hold your stapler hostage for too long. I wouldn’t want to disrupt the flow of your productivity.”

You watch with wary eyes as he walks back to his desk, stapling some small, tiny note of sorts before walking right back, handing the paper and the stapler to you.

“What’s this?” You raise a brow.

“Some paper work for you to fill out,” he grins, the vagueness of his answer making a vein all but pop in your forehead.

Before you even have a chance to tell him that you most certainly will not be entertaining whatever silly prank he’s playing, he walks right off, sagging into his chair as he does an obnoxious little spin and goes back to typing at his computer. Probably yet another email with a ridiculous ending, you think to yourself.

Against your better judgement, you stare at the note, eyeing the small flap he’s stapled over an index card. You lift it up, quickly scanning over his scribbled writing.

Want to grab coffee during lunch? Check your answer:

▢ yes! ▢ absolutely! ▢ most definitely!

Your eye twitches.

Grabbing a pen, you quickly add a box underneath his (very confident) options, checking it off and writing in neat, pristine handwriting:

▣ not a chance!

You stand, walking over to his desk and ignoring his perked up, excited little smile as you drop the note back on the table and head back to your own desk. A tiny wave of satisfaction weaves through your body when you notice him read over your response and deflate, a small pout forming over his lips.

Regretfully, a small part of you can’t help but acknowledge that he’s actually…kind of cute when his lips are curled like that. But a larger part of you shakes that thought away and cringes internally. It’s a shame his personality ruins the genetic blessings he seems to have been bestowed with.

And you think that’s the end of it—but of course, with someone like Satoru in the office, there’s never the end of anything.

You watch as an email pops up on your screen, opening it only to stare blankly at his name and roll your eyes at the subject line:

────────────────────────

Follow-Up on Submitted Paperwork

Greetings office neighbor,

Thank you for submitting the paperwork. Unfortunately, I couldn’t help but notice that it does not fully align with the outlined guidelines. Could you please provide clarification or revise the submission accordingly?

Thanks a million,

Gojo Satoru :)

────────────────────────

And there he goes again with those obnoxious sign-offs, you think bitterly. Instantly, you’re clicking away at your keyboard as you type back an agitated response. Of course, you really shouldn’t entertain his ridiculous schemes, but something about him gets under your skin enough that you simply can’t help yourself.

You huff in approval at your response as you read it over before hitting send.

Instantly, as if he was waiting, you see his hand reach for his mouse and click on his screen to open your email as his eyes scan over your reply:

────────────────────────

Thank you for reaching out,

Unfortunately, I was unable to fully adhere to the outlined guidelines, as they are not viable in this situation. To address this, I adjusted the submission to align more effectively with a more practical outcome.

Hope that helps!

Your office neighbor :)

────────────────────────

Just when you think he’s given up, he rolls his chair over to your desk, causing a couple of annoyed heads to tilt up and glare at him for the noise before turning their attention back to their work. You pinch your nose as his chair rolls to a stop in front of your desk.

“Yes?” You grit through your teeth.

“Hey, office neighbor,” he hums, “just wanted to clarify your most recent email with you. I’m a bit confused.”

“Which part confused you?” You bat your lashes in faux charm, sarcastically smiling at him as he hums, grabbing a piece of candy from your little bowl of sweets at your desk and helping himself.

Your eye twitches a little at the gesture. Those are for you to enjoy throughout a miserable work day.

“Um…” he trails off as he pretends to think, “I’d say all of it.”

“I see,” you nod slowly, fighting every bone in your body not to snap at him with a colorful choice of words. “Essentially, the options in your original document did not highlight a plausible set of deliverables, so I corrected them for you with a more realistic one. Make sense?”

“Not really,” he sighs dramatically, pretending to scratch his head in confusion. You want nothing more than to grab those snowy locks and slam his face into your paper shredder. “Could you go over it one more time? I’m still lost.”

You’re just about to lose your patience with him when suddenly, the entire office seems to collectively take in a sharp breath, everyone scrambling to look as productive as possible while a tall, older looking man with suspiciously familiar white hair and blue eyes walks through the office. Something in your brain sets off alarm bells, but you can’t quite completely piece it together what it is about him seems so….recognizable.

“Who’s that?” You frown, scrunching your nose in confusion as everyone straightens up.

“That would be the final boss,” he snorts. You roll your eyes at his word choice before blinking and straightening up yourself.

“Oh my god,” you gasp, voice a panicked whisper as you ask, “you mean the owner of this company?”

“Yeah,” he drawls, raising a brow at you in amusement. “Never seen him before?”

“No,” you hiss, “I’m just the intern! Now go back to your desk before he thinks we’re goofing off, I’d like to keep my job, please.”

“I don’t think that’ll be a problem,” he hums.

You send him a nasty glare, just about at your wits end as you whisper-yell, “I am going to throw my stapler right at your—”

“Satoru, I need you in my office,” comes a stern, deep voice, interrupting you as you quickly shut your mouth.

“You got it, old man,” he salutes in mock seriousness. Suddenly, your spine goes rigid and your eyes widen. The man walks off with a firm nod as Satoru stands, giving you an innocent smile.

Suddenly, it dawns on you just why he looked so strikingly familiar.

“Did you just call him old man?” You blink, mouth agape.

“Yup,” he winks, walking backwards as his eyes stay trained on you while he heads for the elevator. “I’ll put in a good word for you when he’s in a better mood at home tonight. I think we can discuss the specifics over coffee during our lunch hour, yeah?”

[jinwoosbabyboo]

Sick & Tired

How I imagine the LADS Men take care of you when you're sick [requested by: depressed but well dressed anon]

𝚉𝚊𝚢𝚗𝚎

ready and willing to take care of you, but also is in his ‘I told you so’ era because he knew you’d end up getting sick

will do everything and anything you tell him

would let you lay on his shoulder or in his lap while you nap

even though he’s with you constantly to take care of you he somehow manages to not get sick

brings you medicine and a glass of water

cooks you homemade soup and will feed you if you let him

depending on how sick you are he would take time off from work to look after you

for my girlies who cry a little when they dont feel good he would wipe your tears for you “Don’t cry this sickness is only temporary”

if hes still working he’ll always try to be there until you fall asleep and rushes home to you

leaves soup in the fridge for you when he’s not there

𝚁𝚊𝚏𝚊𝚢𝚎𝚕

teases you for getting sick until he realizes youre sad “Aw cutie are you not feeling well?” “I hate it here” “Tell me what you need”

Doesn’t want to get sick so yes he’d bring you whatever you ask for but he’s wearing a mask and gloves ; avoids kisses “once you’re no longer contagious I'll give you a kiss”

doesn’t mind telling you stories or humming you songs to get you to sleep

would feed you, but be prepared to never hear the end of it “You’re just a sick girl who needs my help in your time of need I know I know my services are impeccable” “Can I have my tea now?”

mocks and teases you when you get fussy about anything “I can’t stand you” “Good thing you’re laying down then huh?”

gets sick anyway because his dumbass would eat off your spoon/fork or drink something of yours

you two end up sick in bed together and he’s even more whiny now

lots of cuddles and kisses now since he got himself sick

doom scrolls with you while laying in your lap

Thomas has to come and take care of the two of you

𝚇𝚊𝚟𝚒𝚎𝚛

I wouldn't be me if I didn’t say it ; PAGING NURSE XAVIER

he’s at your side in a split second

so excited to have free reign in your kitchen ; immediately tries to make you soup and burns the pot

blows the kitchen up in your house/apartment ends up having to take care of you at his place

finally orders you soup and medicine after you cried because you didn’t want his cooking

he sleeps when you sleep

constantly checking your temperature

doesn’t mind carrying you around the house he knows you can walk, but he likes having you draped over him

blows your nose for you ; puts the tissue to your nose “Blow.” “Thats what she said” “…..your snot is dripping please blow”

sore throat? he’s right there daily with a spoonful of honey “Here its good for you”

can easily handle you when you get fussy about taking medicine “That was quite the tantrum” as he shoves the medicine in your mouth

𝚂𝚢𝚕𝚞𝚜

already knew you were coming down with something he already has everything ready to go

picks you up and takes you to his place ;has his chef prepare home remedies tailored just for you

brings you everything himself ; you also have the twins at your disposal

sits bedside and encourages you to eat as much as you can “take two more bites and then you can go back to sleep”

still tries to kiss you even though you’re sick because he doesn’t give a damn “Sylus I'll get you sick stop” steals a kiss here and there anyway ; gets sick like two weeks later

wipes and blows your nose for you “You look like a sick kitten” “Shut it”

doesn’t care when you get fussy about taking medicine “Are you done? Good. Here.”

if you want to stay in bed all day thats fine ; if you want to cling to him like a Koala around the house thats fine too he’ll carry you

lets you sleep on him and steal his warmth

checks your breathing when you sleep longer than usual

leaves the twins to keep an eye on you if he needs to step out ; leaves Mephisto to watch you if he needs to take the twins with him

the type to give you a massage even if you’re not having body aches

𝙲𝚊𝚕𝚎𝚋

is already at your doorstep with groceries and medicine

keeps you close to him and in sight at all times

your personal chef truly ; he’s wrapping you in a blanket and laying you on the couch while he makes you something to eat

checks your temperature regularly ; gives you medicine like clockwork

spoon feeds you so you don’t have to lift a finger

reminds you that you don’t need to thank him ; he’ll always take care of you no matter what

cuddles you while you sleep after cleaning your place ; puts a humidifier in your room if you’re congested

tries to make you laugh so you’re not sad ; reminds you that he’ll always be there for you so no need to be sad

wipes and blows your nose for you “Your scrunched up face is adorable”

teases you if you ask for a massage if you’re having body aches ; of course he’s overjoyed to do it though “You know I'll give you a massage whenever you want”

says he won’t kiss you while your sick ; ends up kissing you out of habit and gets a little sick “Now it’s your turn to take care of me”

[science-hoes]

Afterglow

Dr. Michael “Robby” Robinavitch x Reader

Warnings: SMUT, 18+, Minors DNI, unprotected sex, angst but then smut

A/N: I had been trying so hard to finish up this one! I love writing for angsty Robby that ends up being happy in the end. I just love my tortured lil guy with brown eyes.

—

You could feel somebody’s eyes burning a hole through your head as you finished charting for your last patient of the shift. You knew it was Robby. The patient was a young woman who had come in after fainting for the first time. Robby suggested dysautonomia and wanted to discharge after observation, but you weren’t so sure. So you ordered an EKG, revealing a second degree Monitz Type 1 heart block. These were benign but important to explain her fainting. The only problem? You did it after Robby explicitly told you no.

Your relationship with Robby was perfect. Most of the time. He provided for you, cared for you, and protected you. And you were eager to reciprocate it. After a year of dating, you both kept the privacy of your relationship at work. Only Dana and Abbot knew. Robby treated you like every other resident, but sometimes, that wasn’t a good thing.

You finished typing in the chart and logged out of the computer. You stood, ready to go grab your backpack and head home. But when you turned around, Robby was towering over you with his arms crossed.

“We need to talk.” He said gruffly.

You raised an eyebrow, not able to read the emotions behind his eyes. “About…?” You asked.

“I told you not to order the EKG for Room 3. Explain to me how that got lost in translation.” His eyes were narrowed, and you grew uncomfortable under his piercing gaze.

You crossed your arms, mirroring him. “Because she’s an athlete. Second degree Type 1 is very common in young female athletes.” You stated firmly.

“Which is also benign. The dysautonomia could also account for her fainting.” He countered.

You shook your head in confusion. “I don’t understand. We helped a young woman learn about a block that could be a problem down the road. What is the problem?” You asked.

Robby chuckled, but you knew that laugh. The one before he blew up on a medical student. “The problem is that you went behind my back and ordered an EKG I explicitly told you not to.” He explained, bordering condescending.

You chewed on the inside of your cheek. “Because I didn’t think your diagnosis was correct.” You responded, feeling anxiety rush through your veins as you stood up for yourself.

He shook his head “I don’t care. You are the resident, and I am the attending.”

He pulled his rank on you. He’s never done that. Even before you were dating. You huffed and clenched your jaw. “But I was right.” You said.

“You were right this time. But making a habit of defying your superiors can lead to somebody dying.”

“But-“

“I don’t want to hear excuses, I want to hear ‘yes, sir.’ Do you understand me?” Robby said, nostrils flared, face red.

You could not BELIEVE the audacity of this man. You looked around, and every single person in the Pitt had their eyes on you. Your cheeks flushed with embarrassment and tears stung your eyes. “Yes, sir.” You hissed.

Robby watched you storm off to the doctor’s lounge. The anger in his chest began to dissipate as he looked around the room and noticed the scene he had caused. “Get back to work.” He ordered, and everyone began to awkwardly continue about their shift.

He sat down at the desk you had been working at and rubbed his hands on his face. Regret began to sink in.

“Hey, man. What the fuck was that?” He heard Dana ask him.

Robby looked up and shook his head. “I don’t know.” Was all he managed to say.

“Well, you just humiliated a resident and your girlfriend in front of the whole Pitt. Let’s start there.” Dana said as she sat down next to him.

“She went behind my back and-“

“Yeah, yeah, I heard the story. Everyone did.” Dana deadpanned, and Robby rolled his eyes. “Why did you feel the need to berate her like that?”

Robby shrugged. “I didn’t berate her. I had to remind her that she can’t just defy orders as a resident. That could both of us in trouble if something bad happened.” He explained.

“Sure, that makes sense. But you were a dick about it.” Dana replied.

“It just happened. I was angry.”

Dana leaned in closer, keeping her voice quiet in case any nosy nurses were listening. “You are in a relationship with a power imbalance. Maybe it’s equal at home, but not here. You can’t just drill her like that.”

“I have to treat her like she is a junior resident. I can’t give her special treatment because she’s my girlfriend.”

Dana laughed, unable to handle how dense Robby was being. “Special treatment? Robby, you are way harder on her than you are on anybody else in the Pitt. Even the senior residents.”

Robby looked to Dana. “She is defying me in front of the senior residents.” He defended.

“She is standing up for herself. Just like Langdon, just like Collins, just like any resident would. Whatever pride is getting in the way of your relationship, you need to let it go.”

“It’s not pride.”

“Then what is it?”

“I don’t know.”

Dana sighed heavily. “Robby, I have seen you in a work relationship up close. You did not act this way to Collins. But I also know you didn’t love Collins.”

Robby felt an internal sting of guilt at the mention of his past relationship. But Dana was right. “What’s your point?”

“You are about to destroy the one thing that makes you a tolerable person.” Dana said bluntly.

Robby sat there for a moment, the words echoing in his ears. He had never considered that he might be hurting your relationship. All he was worried about at work was turning you into the best physician. Even if that came with tough love. But today wasn’t tough love. It was his pride and arrogance pushing through the surface and bearing its ugly teeth.

“You had better go and get her before she’s gone.” Dana’s words snapped him out of his thoughts.

Robby nodded and stood up. He squeezed Dana’s shoulder. “Thanks.” He said.

Dana leaned back in her chair as Robby turned to leave. “First relationship counseling session is free. Next one, I’m charging 50 bucks.” She teased.

Normally, Robby would have made a sarcastic comment back, but the only thing he could think about as he walked to the doctor’s lounge was you. He opened the door to the lounge, and his heart sank when he saw that your belongings were already gone. So, he collected his backpack and hurried out the door to your apartment.

—

You managed to hold it together until you got home. You dropped your backpack on the ground and burst into tears. Robby had never yelled at you like that, and honestly, you were a little frightened by it. You knew he would never lay a (non-consensual) finger on you, but you never imagined you would be on the receiving end of his meltdowns.

You collapsed onto your bed and pulled the pillow to your chest as you cried. The image of Robby’s angry red face was terrorizing your mind. And even worse, you felt unstable in the relationship for the first time. You had never fought with Robby, not really. Tiny arguments over thermostat settings were the worst altercations, and you both laughed the whole time.

The age gap between you and Robby was not a problem. You both had an honest conversation about what it would mean to work with each other before you started officially dating. There had not been any issue. Sure, you noticed that he was more critical of your work. You figured you deserved it, but you didn’t notice any difference between that and the criticism he held for other residents.

You heard the front door lock click, and the door opened. “Hey, kid. I’m home.” A voice called out.

You suddenly felt anger bubble in your chest. Robby walked around the apartment for a moment until he saw you through the open bedroom door, curled up with the pillow. He sat down on the opposite side of the bed, looking down at you.

“I’m sorry.”

The words didn’t mean anything to you. You wanted to yell and scream and get back at him. Make him feel as bad as you did. But you didn’t. That wasn’t healthy.

Robby took your silence as the response. “I fucked up today. I belittled you in front of everyone, and I didn’t respect your education and decisions.” He continued.

You watched him through teary eyes. And it broke his heart. He wanted to hold you close and wipe them away and kiss the stains they made on your cheeks. But he knew he caused them. He rubbed the back of his neck, his anxious tic.

“I know you’re mad. And I know that you will be for a while. I let my pride and arrogance get ahead of me, and I didn’t respect you as a resident.” He said and reached a hand to stroke your hair out of your face. “But more importantly, I didn’t respect you as my girlfriend. My partner.” He added.

You felt the anger begin to dwindle but kept your guard up. “You‘ve never yelled at me like that.” You whispered and a fresh wave of tears streamed down your face.

Robby felt like a knife was twisting in his chest at the sight of you. “I know. And I’ll never do it again. That’s a promise.” He replied. “I know I’m harder on you than the other residents. I just want you to be the best physician. Better than me.”

You rolled your eyes at his answer. “Shouldn’t you want all of your residents to be the best?” You asked.

Robby bit his bottom lip in thought. “Yes. But I want you to be better than all of them.” He said.

“Why?”

“Because I love you.”

Your heart jumped to your throat. He loved you. He said he loved you. Robby had never dared utter the words prematurely. Sure, you knew you loved him months ago. But you weren’t going to risk scaring him off if he wasn’t ready for that.

“I love you, kid.” He reiterated when he saw that you were processing his words carefully. “And I have for a long time. You have shown me what it means to be happy. I used to dread waking up every morning, and now I wake up with you by my side. Every decision I make is for you. For our future. You are my anchor to reality. I was scared to say it because I didn’t want karma or fate or whatever to take you away from me.”

Your face softened, but the tears kept coming. For a different reason this time. You reached your hand out and pulled him by the strings of his hoodie to lie down next to you. Robby’s sad brown eyes began to well with tears as he stared into yours.

“Do you love me?” He asked, scared like a child.

You realized you hadn’t said anything since his initial confession. A smile graced your lips, just slightly. “Michael, I love you more than anything.” You whispered.

Relief washed over Robby’s face, and his heart skipped a beat when you said his first name, which you rarely did. Only in intimate moments like this. “Can I kiss you?” He asked, the tears starting to fall down his face, but not wanting to push boundaries if you were still upset.

You answered by leaning in and capturing his lips with yours. Robby wrapped his arms around you tightly, afraid you would disappear if he let go. The kiss was not hot or desperate like the ones you were used to after a long shift. This one was slow and soft. He pulled gently at your top lip and took advantage of your ensuing moan to slip his tongue in your mouth. You let him explore like it was your first kiss and slid your own tongue against his.

“I love you, I love you, I love you.” He whispered into your mouth over and over.

You ran your fingers through his dark thinning hair and anchored them at the base of his neck, guaranteeing that his lips couldn’t leave yours. His beard began to burn against your chin, but you didn’t care.

“I love you.” You whispered in return.

Robby’s mouth finally left your lips and began kissing anything he could find. Your cheeks, your nose, your forehead, your jaw. Moving down to your neck, sucking gently but not leaving a mark, as according to the rules you both set for work. The hot open-mouthed kisses on your carotid sent chills down your spine, and you squirmed in his grasp, legs weaving between his. He tugged at your scrub top, and you momentarily left his grasp to pull it off.

Once you were back in his arms, Robby’s mouth latched to your chest, pressing more kisses down the valley of your breasts. His hands expertly unlatched your bra in the back, exposing your soft nipples to the cold air of the room. His beard tickled your skin as he moved to your right breast. Your head dropped back on the pillow when his tongue glided across your nipple, making circles to excite it. Once it hardened, he took the bud in between his teeth and sucked gently.

A shaky breath left your lungs, the polarity of sensations driving you crazy. One of your hands remained in his hair as he nursed on you, the other digging into the skin of his back. After what he deemed enough time for your right breast, he moved to the left one, giving in the same treatment.

It wasn’t like Robby to move slowly like this. Usually, he had you on your stomach, ass in the air, and pounding away within five minutes of getting home. But he didn’t want to fuck you tonight. He wanted to show you his love.

You finally pulled at his hoodie, wanting to feel more of his skin on yours. He sat up, a small smile on his face, and shed both his scrub top and hoodie, exposing his broad but toned upper body. He fell back down to you, but moved lower this time. His mouth left kisses down from your breasts to your navel, fingers pulling at the waistband of your scrub pants and underwear. As you lifted your hips to help remove them, he left love bites along your waist, which was fair game.

When he tossed your scrubs and panties aside, Robby lifted your thighs, placing them on his shoulders. This position you were very familiar with. He planted kisses on the inside of your thighs, met with slick wetness as he got closer to your weeping pussy. You could feel him smile from the way his beard moved against your skin. It didn’t matter if he was fucking you after work or eating you out while on break in the call room, it boosted his confidence tenfold to know how wet you got for him.

“All this for me?” He asked, looking up to you those boyish brown eyes glistening in the dark light of the room.

You breathed a laugh, squeezing your thighs a bit around his shoulders. “Only for you.” You confirmed.

“That’s right.” He breathed.

His tongue gently teased your slick folds. His mouth began to water once he could taste you, and he needed more. He tightened his grip on your hips and buried his face in between your legs, ungodly sounds coming from his throat as he devoured you.

You screamed and twisted the bedsheets in your fists. Your thighs squeezed around his neck involuntarily, and it drove him crazy. He reached a hand down to your mound and rubbed strong circles with his thumb as he ate away at your pussy. You didn’t have to tell him that you were close. He knew by the way your hips bucked into his mouth that you were losing control.

“Come for me, baby girl.” He mumbled against you.

The white hot sensation exploded from your core across your body after another few expert maneuvers with his tongue. He lapped up all of the juices that spilled onto his tongue, swallowing them like a starving man. His free hand rubbed soothing circles on your abdomen as your body finally went limp.

Robby kissed your inner thighs when he finished his meal and moved back up the bed, hovering over you. His beard glistened with your juices, and you pulled him down to kiss them off.

“You got one more in you?” He asked, gently pressing his clothed hips against yours.

You smiled and reached for the drawstring of his scrub pants. “Always.” You whispered.

Robby kicked off his scrub pants and boxer briefs, unleashing his painfully hard cock, already leaking with precum. You instinctively started to roll onto your stomach, but he grabbed your hips, planting them firmly against the bed.

“No. I want to look at you while I fuck you tonight.” He said.

Even after a year, Robby could still make you blush. You nodded, spreading your thighs as he centered himself at your pussy. He pushed in slowly, his cock filling you out completely. You unconsciously moaned the entire time until he bottomed out. He pressed a kiss against your neck as he pulled out again.

“That’s a good girl.” He breathed.

His hips began to thrust, making a slow but intentional pace. He indulged in every pitiful sound that fell from your lips as he gently fucked you.

“You feel so good.” You managed to mumble into his ear.

He grinned and pressed a kiss to your cheek, then resting his forehead against yours. The thin gold chain that hung around his neck slapped your chin with every thrust, the cool metal providing an extra sensation to your already overstimulated body. Your fingers dug into his back, scratching and slipping on his sweaty skin.

“I’ll make you feel better.” Robby said, and he pushed your knees to your chest, ankles around his shoulders, compressing his cock even more within your walls.

You let out a string of explicatives as the new position enhanced your pleasure. Robby chuckled as he continued to thrust, slowly picking up more speed. Tears squeezed through your eyes as your second orgasm began to rise. And like always, he knew you were getting close.

“That’s it, baby girl.” He praised, his pace unfaltering.

Your second orgasm hit stronger than the first, rendering you numb and weak. Robby kept pounding against you, struggling to maintain a consistent pace as his own orgasm was nearing. But just like he could sense yours, you knew when he was about to come.

“Come inside me.” You begged, the first time you had ever requested it.

Robby’s eyes widened, and he grunted as he tried to hold off his orgasm. “Are you-are you sure?” He asked, squeezing your waist tightly.

You nodded eagerly. “Yes, please. Please come in me. I want to feel you.” You pleaded again.

A small grin made its way to Robby’s face. But the thought was too exciting for him, and his orgasm hit him harder and faster than he was used to. You could feel each hot spurt of cum coat your walls, each pulse of his veined cock twitch inside you. His arms trembled, and he collapsed on top of you, the weight of his body rather comforting.

You rubbed soothing circles on his back and kissed his sweat-covered forehead. “I love you, Michael Robinavitch.” You whispered.

Robby smiled as his head rested on your bare chest, listening to your heartbeat. “I love you, kid.” He responded, feeling happiest he had ever been.

[livinghalfway]

Younger Years

Summary: Damian gets temp de-aged to 6yrs old; cue him asking where his twin is. This is how everyone finds out about Danny's existence Word Count: 1541

No one was prepared for the event that occurred a mere hours ago. Nightwing and Robin had been investigating an unknown target that had recently been causing trouble near the docks. There wasn't supposed to be an altercation, but when the person of interest showed up they weren't going to just let him walk away. 

This target had a trick up his sleeve though; literally. The moment he was cornered by the two vigilantes he had thrown a magical blast at Robin that managed to hit him square in the chest. By the time Nightwing had reached his side it was already too late and the magician had used that as his way to sneak away. 

“Robin?” Nightwing's voice is hesitant and soft as he peers down at the very small passed out child that lays in a pile of clothes. “Oh no.” 

As soon as the now tiny Damian is into his arms he’s rushing back to the cave. “Oracle, Robin and I ran into some trouble during our investigation. Alert Batman that he needs to get back to the cave as soon as he can.” 

“What’s happening? Do I need to get Dr. Leslie to the cave as well?” 

“No, not yet at least; neither of us is injured. We’ll need to contact Zatanna or Constantine though. It seems Robin got hit with some kind of de-aging spell.” 

The line on the other end was silent for a few moments before a soft snickering sound filled the comm line. “... I’m contacting everyone. How young would you say he is?”

“If I had to take a guess I’d say he’s 6 maybe 7.” Nightwing says as he glances down at the sleeping boy in his arms. He is taking so many photos as soon as he’s back in the cave Dick promises to himself. 

"So we have a baby assassin who's still deep in the LoA mindset. Is he awake right now? I can't imagine you'd be talking this calmly if you were trying to settle a Damian who  doesn't know you and seemingly woke up in a new location."

"He's asleep right now." He couldn't help but let out an exhausted sigh knowing that it wasn't going to be a fun time when Damian eventually wakes up, "As long as Robin doesn’t kill or hurt anyone by the end of this I'll count it as a personal win." 

"That'll count as a win for all of us." She hums, "Everyone available tonight has responded and should be waiting for your arrival. Good luck."

With that sign off the comm link went silent. He looks down at Damian's sleeping face once more and can't help but can't help to mourn the fact that this is the youngest he's ever seen his baby brother. He loves Damian at his normal age of 14 years old, but he also knows that he's going to enjoy having him this young as much as he can. 

It only took a few minutes after that to finally reach the cave. Dick took note of Bruce, Alfred, Tim, Jason, and Duke who were also in the cave, but ignored them for the moment in favor of rushing Damian to a med bay bed to lie him down. 

Before Dick can even fully settle Damian down he feels the familiar looming presence of Bruce standing behind him. "I hope you have a camera with you; I want to fill a photo album before this whole thing is done."

"We need to confirm that this is actually Damian first." Bruce reaches out, running a hand through the child's hair before gently plucking a couple hairs and turning away back to the computer. 

With Bruce occupied on the other side of the cave Jason, Tim, and Duke all shuffle in around the bed. Predictably, Tim does have a camera at the ready and immediately snaps a picture of Damian as soon as he's in the room. "I'm never letting him forget about this." 

"Just make sure you send me all your photos of this before trying to blackmail him to do anything with them." Dick is quick to say; he's getting his photo album one way or another. Knowing Damian he's going to try and destroy all evidence of this occurring. 

It is then that Alfred walks into the room as well, "Before we continue with the photos I insist we dress Master Damian in clothes that will more properly fit than the ones currently wrapped around him." 

After that was said Alfred gestured for all the boys out of the med bay room while he got Damian dressed in what must be some of Damian's smallest clothes that the older man was able to find. While waiting to be allowed back in the room a ping sounds out from behind them. It seems the DNA test is complete. 

"Well B, is it a boy, or are you still paranoid that the demon brat in there isn't actually Damian?" Jason questions as he walks forward and snatches the report. "Let's see! Yup, the boy is Damian alright; Bruce was being paranoid for no reason as usual." 

"How funny would it be though if the spell did just replace Damian with a 6 year old look alike though?" Duke grins as he takes a look at the report as well.

"… You think there's a spell that does that?" Jason looks far too interested in knowing that answer if the smirk on his face was anything to go by.

"We could ask-"

"You will not be asking anyone that question." Bruce quickly interrupts that conversation from continuing. If Dick had to guess though he'd say that it wasn't over based on the look Jason and Duke share with one another.  "I've already contacted Zatanna, and she's on the way now to assess the situation; nothing more." 

Tim scoffs and gives an exaggerated eye roll, "Oh, might as well let them ask otherwise-."

It was just then the zeta tube pinged and Zatanna was then standing in the Batcave with them. At the same time Alfred also exits the med bay room. "Well Batman, I'm sure you don't want me to be here more than necessary so let's go ahead and take a look at the little Robin." 

"Hm." 

With nothing else said Bruce turns and walks to where Damian is sleeping; Zatanna follows silently behind him. Dick and the others follow as well, not wanting to not hear what she has to say about Damian's situation. 

Everyone watches silently as she examines Damian, saying a few magic words before addressing Bruce.  "Well the good news is that this isn't permanent. The binding magic surrounding him is pretty weak."

"And the bad news?" Dick is immediately asking.

"The bad news is that this isn't something I can just undo right here right now. De-aging magic is always complicated, and the less risks we take the better." Zatanna tells him, "Which means you're just going to have to wait this out. It looks like it'll only last a couple of days." 

Perfect! Dick can't help, but think that is a perfect amount of time. He can definitely get a photo album of the amount of pictures in that time, and they all get to spend time with Damian as the youngest they've ever seen him! The only thing they need to do is make sure the baby assassin doesn't hurt anyone. 

The group after that naturally filters back into the main area of the cave. Zatanna and Bruce share a couple quiet words before she enters the zeta tube and it is only them in the cave once more. 

"Guess the only thing to do now is to wait for the demon brat to wake up." Jason gleefully exclaims, "I for one am excited to see how B handles the little terror." 

"Should one of us be there when he does wake up?" Duke asks; clearly thinking about the kid possibly waking up and trying to attack them.

Tim immediately shouts out, "Not it!"

"I'll do it," Dick assures Tim, "I still need to write my report anyway. I'll let you all know when he wakes up." 

With no complaints Dick gathers his things, and goes to take a seat next to Damian while he writes up an official report of the events that occurred tonight. As he does he makes sure to look up every few minutes; he's not sure when Damian might wake up, and he wants to be ready when he does. 

After half an hour Dick was just finishing up, and he could still hear his brothers loudly talking about something. It warms his heart to think about the three of them getting along; with that in mind he takes another glance at his littlest brother. Damian is of course glaring at him with the cutest little pout.

Wait.

Damian's awake!

"Hey Damian," he makes sure to speak as gently as he can, "do you feel okay? What's the last thing you remember?" 

Now, Dick expected Damian to attack one of them at some point during this; what he didn't expect was for him to do it immediately to the first person he saw. He probably should have though.

[florihaei]

• ౨ৎ ────────── 𝐒𝐏𝐎𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐃 𝐑𝐎𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐍 ₊ ˖ ་.

엔시티 드림 ꒰ 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘮𝘪𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘣𝘢𝘣𝘺 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘭𝘦𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮

• ( 1010 ) est.relationship 𓂃 bf dreamies! + kissing, pet names, suggestive / ( FLORIHAEI VALUT )

reblogs and feedbacks are appreciated!, phtots are not mine!!, credits to the rightful owner!!( there’s a rich joke in”haechans” and I don’t like it that much so sorry in advance!! florihaei taglist ୨ৎ

MARK LEE !

mark insisted on carrying everything, even your tiny purse. “babe i got it” you say reaching for your bag. he pulls it away with a grin, easily slipping the strap over his shoulder. “nope, to heavy for my baby girl”

you narrow your eyes at him, placing your hands on your hips. “mark baby.. it’s literally lighter than your phone”

he tilted his head, pretending to think. “hmm, it doesn’t matter, what if your body gets sore?, what if you get tired baby?” his voice was laced with amusement, but the way he tucks you under his arm and pulls you close has you smiling

“you’re ridiculous..” you muttered, though you don’t pull away.

“ridiculously in love with you” he corrects you, as he presses a soft kiss to your temple. “now let me be a good boyfriend and spoil my baby yeah?”

you sigh dramatically but you end up smiling even wider when he gives your cheek a squeeze.

-

HUANG RENJUN !

you reach for a cup on the top shelf, standing on your tippy toes and stretching as far as you could. beofre you could even get close, renjun appears behind you , easily grabbing the cup and placing it in your hands.

“what would you do without me?” he teases, resting his chin on your shoulder

“survive” you reply, turning to glare at him playfully

he scoffed, looping his arm around your waist. “doubt it baby, you’re too small and fragile”

“im not fragile” you argued, but he just hums, clearly he was unconvinced.

“mhm sure , but i would rather not risk my pretty girl struggling” his voice is soft as he titled her chin up. his thumb grazing over your jaw before pressing a lingering kiss to your nose. “besides, it’s cute when you try”

you swat at his chest, but the warmth spreading through you was impossible to ignore.

-

LEE JENO !

jeno watches as you struggle to open a bottle of water, your hands twisted at the cap, but with no success. before you can even consider asking for help, he grabs it from your grasp effortlessly, cracking it open with one hand

“jeno.. baby..” you huffed, reaching for it. “i could’ve done it”

he lifted the bottle higher, out of your reach, a playful smirk on his lips. “mm, but why should i when i can just do it for you baby?”

you pout, the smirk softened as he takes your chin between his fingers. “pretty.. i like taking care of you” he murmurs, pressing a slow kiss to your lips before finally handing the bottle to you. “so let me, okay?”

you take a sip, trying to hide your smile, but he sees right through you.

-

LEE HAECHAN !

your standing in the kitchen, trying to wash the dishes, when haechan suddenly wraps his arms around your waist and lifts you off the ground

“you shouldn’t be doing this sunshine” he whines, carrying you away from the sink and placing you gently on the couch. “my pretty baby doesn’t need to be doing chores”

you cross your arms. “and who’s going to do them then?, you?”

“uh no?, that’s why rich people hire maids for” he says. “and since im not rich, ill do it because i love you”

you blink “wait did you just…?”

“shh” he cuts you off, pressing a quick kiss to your lips before rushing to the kitchen. “no more questions sunshine, just sit here and look pretty for me”

your heart feels like it’s doing somersaults, but you’ll just pretend you didn’t hear the way his voice cracked

-

NA JAEMIN !

you’re in bed half asleep, when you feel jaemin shift beside you. he carefully tucks the blanket around your shoulders, brushing a strand of hair away from your face.

“nana… where are you going?” you mumble, reaching for his hand before he can move.

jaemin chuckles softly, leaning down to kiss your forehead. “i was just gonna get some water baby”

you let out a sleepy whine, tugging at his hoodie. “no… stay”

he smiles, lying back down and wrapping his arms around you. “you’re too cute you know that?” his voice is a whisper against your ear warm and comforting.

you nuzzle into his chest as he kisses the top of your head. “okay, okay i’m staying” he murmurs. “not like i’d ever leave my pretty girl alone anyway”

-

ZHONG CHENLE !

you’re running around the house, trying to grab something from the other room, when chenle calls out from the couch. “slow down baby, you’re gonna trip”

“i won-” your foot catches on the rug, and before you know it you’re stumbling forward.

chenle is up in an instant, catching you before you can hit the ground. he steadies you as his hands firm on your waist. “what did i just say baby?” he sighs, shaking his head before pulling you into his arms.

you groan. “okay okay.. you were right”

he smirks, rubbing circles onto your back. “of course i was, my baby is too clumsy for her own good”

you pout up at him, and he kisses your forehead with a chuckle. “from now on just let me do everything baby okay?”

you roll your eyes, but you don’t complain when he picks you up bridal style just to take you back to the couch.

-

PARK JISUNG !

you’re sitting on the floor, playing a video game when jisung suddenly scoots closer and pulls you into his lap.

“jisung baby?” you say, looking at him in confusion.

he wraps his arms around you, resting his chin on your shoulder. “just let me hold you for a bit”

your heart melts. “you’re so clingy” you tease, but you lean into him anyway.

“yeah, yeah” he mumbles, tightening his grip. “you’re my baby so deal with it”

you smile, placing your hands over his. “okay but you better not complain when i call you baby back”

he groans, but you catch the way his ears turn pink.

[differenteagletragedy]

Part two of the one where Simon lets you move into a room in his house You tell Simon that you have at least a few weeks before you need to move out of your apartment and into his spare room, but he doesn't see the point in wasting time. The day after he offers to let you move in, he goes shopping, and the next few days are spent putting everything together. The bed, the dresser, two matching nightstands, some shelves — he makes sure everything is solid and sturdy for you, and he hopes you wouldn't notice how new it all is.

He cleans, too, every inch of the place. He's not a particularly messy man, but he'd bought the small two-bedroom house years ago, and he's not one for company. So he goes over everything, and he does what he can to make sure that his home is a good place for you, from the small stepstool he buys and sticks in the corner of the kitchen to the way he organizes his shaving supplies in the bathroom so you can have half the limited counterspace.

When you tell him you're ready, he brings his truck to the bar to pick up you and your things, and his heart aches, just a little, when he sees that all you have is a couple of bags slung over your shoulder. Without a word, he takes them from you and carries them out, and he tries to shrug off the slight disappointment he feels when you open the passenger door before he can do it for you.

"It's not much," he tells you on the short drive back. "Two bedrooms, just the one bathroom. I'm gone a lot. Stay as long as you like."

"What do you think for rent?" you ask. "I've got a little bit saved, and I can —"

"I meant what I said, love. There's no rush."

He hops out quickly after he pulls into the driveway, opening your door for you this time. He takes your bags and carries them in and into the room that's now yours, setting them carefully on the floor before turning to you, sticking his hand in his pocket and pulling out a key.

"Same one for both doors," he says. "Not much in the kitchen, but help yourself to anything you like. And let me know if you need anything at all."

The first few days, you don't see each other much. He stays in his room more than usual, not wanting to crowd you or make you feel uncomfortable. You pick up an extra shift at the bar, trying to make that rent he keeps telling you not to worry about.

One night during that first week, he comes home late from the gym, and he's pleasantly surprised to see you sitting in the living room, watching tv and having a snack.

"Oh, sorry," you say immediately when you hear the door open, like you'd done something wrong.

He smiles, just a bit, and nods for the couch, wanting you to be comfortable — maybe liking the idea of you warm and cozy in his space a little too much.

"Nothing to be sorry about, sweetheart," he says, stepping closer.

You nod, and slowly sit back down, but on the edge of the cushion now, tense.

He doesn't care for it.

"What's on?" he asks.

"Oh, just this show I watch sometimes. It's a dumb reality thing ... I can check it out on my phone later."

You minimize yourself constantly, he's noticed that for a while now, but it's never been so clear as it is now, with you perched on his couch like you're waiting to run for cover. He still doesn't know your story, but in the moment, he'd love nothing more than to find whatever or whoever it was that put this innate fear in you and destroy it.

It's a war in him, a fight between keeping to himself and wanting you not to do the same. This particular battle is decided when he takes a seat on the other end of the couch and forces himself to tear his eyes away from you to look at the tv.

"Tell me about it."

You do. Nervously at first, but you slowly relax. He gives a small, satisfied smile when you scoot back to sit on the couch more comfortably and start to speak more freely, and he fights back a wider one when he really takes you in, bare feet and a loose t-shirt, lounging around at home. His home.

Yours too, now.

After that night, things get a little easier. You don’t sequester yourself in your room, and he warms up to you a bit more. It starts feeling natural, having you in his space. You fall into a rhythm.

Nearly a month in, he comes home one day to find you in the living room, pulling on your shoes, and he asks you where you're headed.

"We're headed to get some groceries," you tell him.

The directness is new, but certainly not unwelcome, and he follows behind you gladly as you lead the way to the store.

Grocery shopping with you makes him feel like a kid again, but one who had someone to dote on him. You walk by the produce, asking him carefully what he likes. What's his favorite kind of apple? What kind of berry does he prefer?

At one point, you actually tell him, "Simon, you have to get some vegetables," and he can't help but laugh at how you stare up at him pointedly, like he's supposed to know he's worth being cared for.

"What's your favorite dinner?" you ask him as you walk through the aisles, carefully scanning for prices before you put things in the cart.

"Don't know," he mutters. "Never really thought about it."

It's true, sort of. He eats, of course, and he has preferences, but it's never really been something to take pleasure in. There's never been some meal he craves, or some kind of food tied to a good memory. He mostly just wants to see if you'll say his name again.

But then he thinks for another beat and starts walking.

He puts a can of beans into the cart, then goes to another aisle and gets a loaf of bread. He doesn't say anything, but you nod and smile at him.

After you buy the groceries -- more specifically, after he buys the groceries, using his body to block the card reader while you laugh and try to wrestle your way around him to pay yourself -- you walk back home. He sets the bags on the counter, and together you put up all your purchases, but he notices you leave out the things he'd picked out.

"Hungry?"

"Generally."

Simon watches, arms crossed, as you heat the beans in a saucepan you'd pulled from under the stove. He doesn't move when you stand close to get to the toaster, and he watches your throat as you swallow when your arm brushes against his to put the bread in.

"You know, I would have made you anything," you tell him as you wait for the toast. "And this is what you picked?"

"Just had it a lot when I was a kid," he mutters, not offering more.

With the look you give him, a glance that's quick but still penetrates, he knows you understand the reluctance to get into the details. It's not the easiest thing to explain, how one can find comfort in the soft lulls of a tragedy. How oddly soothing it can feel to remember any bit of kindness from hands that ripped you apart.

You give him a plate first. Beans on toast, straight from his childhood. He takes a bite and nods, appreciative, and you grin.

A few bites later, you reach your hand up and swipe off a bit of food from the corner of his mouth, and seemingly without thinking, you lick it from your finger. He keeps his eyes on you for a moment longer, then sets his plate down.

Simon moves slowly, agonizingly so, giving you every chance to stop him. He puts his hands on your waist first, high and respectable, and when you just look at him, waiting, he drops them to your hips.

"This ok?" he asks, and when you nod, he dips his hands lower, over your thighs and to the back of them, lifting you up and dropping you on the counter.

"You didn't have to make me dinner, love," he says softly, working his body just slightly between your knees.

"You don't want me to pay any rent either," you tell him. "I can't just stay here for nothing."

The idea of you bringing nothing to this arrangement is laughable, but he keeps a straight face. He studies you, every fleck of color in your eyes and every line in your skin, maybe too intensely, but you just sit there, and you let him.

"You can tell me to stop," he finally says. "Won't be offended."

"I don't want you to stop."

With that, he brings his lips to your cheek, placing a gentle kiss there, then plants one on your jaw. When you still don't object, and even lift your hands to grasp onto his shoulders, he kisses your mouth.

He doesn't want to rush this, and he doesn't want to ask for something more than you want to give. He doesn't want you to feel like you owe him, but the idea of kissing you like this has been loud and persistent in his mind for longer than he cares to admit. He tries to bridge the two thoughts with his carefulness, but when he feels you start to kiss him back, he snaps.

Not visibly -- he doesn't shove his tongue down your throat or grope you with rough hands. That's not how Simon loses control. For him, snapping is internal. It's in realizing how good you feel in his arms and letting himself feel the weight of that.

He's not sure if it's the dinner you made him or something more innate, but when he kisses you, you taste like home.

In the moment, he can admit that to himself. But he's not ready for you to know. Not yet, anyway.

[secretlovezz]

Whiplash

Eddie Munson x Fem!reader

Summary: you've been avoiding Eddie like the plague and he's desperate to figure out what he's done to deserve it.

Warnings: hurt/comfort?? idk, kissing, fluffy ending, pining, idiots in love, use of y/n, she/her pronouns used for reader, reader is a crybaby ig idk she reacted how I would soooo, lmk if i missed anything!

Wordcount: 2010

A/N: Not really proofread and kind of written in a rush cause I wasn't feeling it about halfway through so sorry if you can tell 😞

You weren't there... again.

Your absence from your usual seat to the left of Eddie leaves him in a deep state of confusion his eyebrows furrowing in thought. This was the fifth day without your presence at his side, almost an entire week without your voice giddily telling him about the book you were reading or a new recipe you've tried, almost an entire week of being deprived of that perfect little gleam in your eyes when you looked at him rambling about something you enjoyed, and his heart ached in deprivation.

And because of this, he could with full confidence say you were avoiding him- but as to why he had no idea.

Eddie's silent at the lunch table staring at nothing in particular, and though the guys -especially the freshman- had finally learned to normalize Eddie's peculiar-ness and oddities this new silence and bleak aura had them surprised. He was stuck in his head racking through everything that's happened in the last week that could have possibly scared you away from him.

He thinks about the time he asked you for help with his math homework, but that couldn't be it considering that definitely was not the first time he'd asked and definitely was not the first time you'd happily agreed to do so. He reminisces about when he'd come to visit you during your shift at the local library in boredom playfully bothering you as you re-placed books onto the shelf.

He thinks and thinks and thinks but nothing comes to mind for your sudden evasion.

"Dude, you think any harder and steam will come out of your ears," Gareth rolls his eyes at Eddie, "What the hell's wrong with you anyway?"

Eddie leans back in his chair and dramatically throws his head back to look at the ceiling, his hair flows behind him and moves as people walk by, "She's avoiding me."

Dustin's head snaps up, still chewing his food he inserts himself into the conversation, "Who? Y/N? I just talked to her last period, she seemed fine," He shrugged.

At that Eddies head pops back up, eyes locking with Dustin's in a way that leaves the younger boy cringing, and the crease between his brows intensifies, "So she's still talking to you guys but not me?" He starts to pout a little by the end of his question.

Everyone sends looks to each other before slowly nodding and Eddie's forehead loudly makes contact with the cafeteria table, the guys wince in response.

"Well... have you tried- I don't know, asking her about it?"

The glare sent in Mikes direction after his question almost makes him apologize. Eddie heatedly scratches his head and groans in irritation; he'd tried more than a handful of times to get ahold of you, tried more than enough times to just hear your voice again but nothing worked. When he waited by your locker you would walk the other way, when he called you, you hung up as soon as you heard his voice, and worst of all you would throw out the little notes he sent you in class as you walked out and away from him once again.

"Duh! Of course I have," Eddies reply is laced with annoyance and frustration, "But I can't ask her anything if she keeps running away- I mean come on! She won't even look at me, man." His voice is soft and emotional when speaking his last sentence, He runs his hand over his face weakly and suddenly he feels like he's being pitied. He doesn't want that.

He hastily moves to pick up his things, thrusting the items into his little lunch box with more force than necessary with a pout on his tired face before standing from his seat and angrily walking away across the cafeteria, from the table and the others. They all sigh when he makes it past the cafeteria doors and after a silent moment Jeff is the first who speaks up, "So- When do you guys think they'll get over themselves and finally get together?"

《----------♡

When the last bell rings after what feels like years to Eddie he's swiftly making his way out of class and out of the building, but now what time would usually be spent merrily walking to his car and making plans to see you during the weekend was spent instead making his way into the woods strolling past trees and going to the little picnic table placed in that clearing he visits every once in awhile.

He stares at the ground and his feet as he treads, kicking rocks, stones, and branches on the way.

Eddies just about there just a few trees away from the clearing before he hears footsteps other than his own a little ways ahead of him he pauses head finally lifting to look in front of him and waits to see who appears.

To his surprise you pop into his vision and his round, brown eyes widen. He goes to take a step forward his body automatically and urgently trying to get to you, desperately needing to be near the drug that is you, but he stops himself to observe.

You sit at the table and pull a book out from the satchel bag at your side and a humorous huff leaves through his nose, his face relaxing and lips curling up at the sight of you doing something you often enthusiastically spoke to him about before realizing that its a book he does not recognize, that you had started a new one, and you hadn't told him like you usually would have. The thought wipes the smile from his face in an instant and his brows furrow for the nth time that day.

He steps forward and does not stop himself this time, sauntering toward you almost as angrily has he had left the cafeteria without your knowledge as you are already too engrossed in whatever new story you were traveling into. When he sits across from you at the table you feel it shift with the added weight and at last realize that you are no longer alone.

When you eventually look up, placing your thumb in-between the pages you were reading to keep your place, your heart drops at the sight of the frustrated man in front of you. You try to move away but he quickly grabs your wrist urging you to sit back down, you look at him again and the anguish written on his face makes you find your seat.

Your gaze moves to your lap and Eddie doesn't let you go too afraid you run away again.

Eddie is the one to break the stifling silence, "Talk to me... please?" The sound of his voice makes your heart ache so guiltily it hurts, "Just- Just tell what I did wrong- tell me so I can fix it."

Though your mouth opens to respond nothing comes out and your eyes gloss over with salty tears. Eddie's hold on your wrist moves to your hand gently cupping it in his calloused palm while his thumb moves to continuously swipe over your warm skin.

Your cheeks warm at the intimate contact and it only makes your eyes well with my tears reminding you of why you were ignoring him in the first place.

"When you-," You struggle to get the words out of your closing throat but Eddie still listens patiently, "Last time... you- you did something. It wasn't a big deal to you- but um... to me it- it meant a lot and that's kind of the problem."

The brunette across from you leans in closer and tilts his head in confusion, "What did I do?"

You glance to the side in embarrassment but Eddie's thumb taps you twice to bring your attention back to the conversation, "Talk to me Princess; Tell me what I did so we can go back to normal, I miss my best friend."

You didn't want to go back to normal.

For the first time in days your eyes connect with Eddie's and you take in a shaky breath at the sight of his enchanting eyes. "You uh- you kissed me..."

Now he's confused. He had kissed you? When? He's sure he would remember finally getting to kiss you.

Your free hand travels to your cheek and it all clicks for him, the pieces falling into place. He can't help but let out a chuckle of amusement; you were right- he had kissed you, kissed you on your cheek, that is, a sweet little peck against your skin. His laughter dies out when you rip your hand from his, the tears in your eyes spilling over.

Eddie stands and rounds the table to you, "Hey hey I- I'm I shouldn't have laughed. Don't cry, sweetheart." His hands place themselves on your elbows as your hands move to cover your face. He starts to feel like that little kiss really did more than he had thought.

"Did it make you uncomfortable? I won't do it again I promise," You shake your head at his words, "Talk to me, baby."

"Don't do that! Don't call me those names if you don't mean it," Eddies eyes go wide at your outburst and his mouth opens to speak but you beat him to it, "you- you kiss me and call me those names and I- It's just too much... I like you too much."

All too quickly Eddie is forcefully removing your hands from your face and cupping your cheeks thumbing the tears from your skin, "I like you too much too."

"Don't be mean Eddie."

He connects his forehand to yours, both of your eyes closing at the closeness, "M'not, would never joke about that." His soft pink lips brush gently against yours as he speaks and your breath hitches. Your lips part slightly and your cold breath fans Eddie's face. "How can I show you I mean it hm? How 'bout... a real kiss?" He mutters. You nod all too briskly for someone who was just crying and it makes Eddie smile.

In the fullness of time Eddie presses his lips to yours and when he finally gets the taste of your lips on his he realizes he's waited entirely too long to do this despite being willing to wait an eternity for you. He's been starving for the absolute goddess that is you, now getting to satisfy that hunger digging in with no resistance and sliding his tongue past your lips flushed against him. The ache he had felt without you there fading once and for all as you kissed him back. Your hands atop his squeeze as a noise escapes the back of your throat and Eddie kisses you deeper at your audible reaction. He wants to consume you, wants to keep you so close you never leave his side, he needs it- needs you and makes sure it shows in the way he kisses you.

When he pulls away your both panting for air, Eddie's grin is smug on the top of your head and your arms are wrapped around him.

"I can't believe you made me feel like shit for an entire week just cause I gave you a lil' kiss on the cheek," Eddie mocked trying to get a quick quip in.

"Shut up! It totally freaked me out."

His loud cackle echoed in your ears and you smiled, pulling him closer and pressing your nose into his skin. Eddie's arms moved to wrap around you as well and his large hands snake around you also trying to squeeze you impossibly closer. He presses a fast peck on your cheek, then your temple, and then the top of your head. Eddie takes a deep breath inhaling the scent of you- memorizing it.

"Promise you won't do that to me again. Don't leave me alone like that again."

"I won't Eds, I promise."

"Besides! What are you going to do without me here being oh so entertaining huh?"

You laugh, "I have no idea."

[burymagdalene]

Off the Map - S. Reid x Reader

In a lovingly competitive game of showing you just how mean your teasing really is, Spencer and reader find out some of Spencer's weaknesses as he's explaining yours.

pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader genre: Smut (18+ pls pls) tags: attemped soft!dom Spencer, he's easily overwhelmed. Munch!Spencer, teasing, you're both a bit sassy, loads of dirty talk, "talking you through it" of sorts, pinv sex, and some early load busting, screw it! wc: 3.3k a/n: I headcanon season 2 Spencer as someone who likes how it feels to be cocky but gets turned on super easily and struggles to deal with that combo. This is an extension of my thought here!

The spring equinox has finally arrived to salve your freezing limbs like an oil to a rusty hinge. The winter was brutal, you almost froze over completely. Somehow you made it, Spencer’s window is wide open as sun dances over his bed while you two lay on completely opposite sides, legs intertwined and slowly moving together.

Spencer is against his headboard, reading through a case file as your head slightly dangles off the end of his bed. Craning your neck a bit to look up through your bent knees you find his eyebrows slightly pinched, the wheels in his head spinning at the unfathomable speed they always do. 

“Are you almost done?”

“Mm.”

“The case? Are you almost done… would you say we can see it from here?” You laugh softly as your blood continues to rush to your head where you lay.

“No. You’re distracting me.”

His words aren’t sharp, he speaks them in an apologetic way, like it's his fault he’s so easily distracted by you. You guess it sort of is.

“How much longerrrr?”

“Hard to tell with these things. Kidnappings but I can’t find a comprehensible link between the different locations they were taken, it’s almost-”

“I’m gonna shower.”

Spencer hums high in his throat as if to say, “good idea!”, and squeezes your knees tightly between his one more time before moving so you can slip off the bed easily.

Padding to his bathroom, you get a thrill of excitement. You really have only ever showered in his bathroom with Spencer. Showering alone for the first time entices you, it really feels like the space is yours to own alongside him.

You want to read the ingredients to every product he owns and look at his shower wall and trace hearts into the steam.

Waiting for the water to heat with your chin in your hand you can’t help the small grin formed on your lips. You just know how particular and neat he is about his space, it's silly but it feels like an honor to be trusted with his shower. 

Once submerged, you get to look around. You love how Spencer smells so having free reign to look over his products has you giddy. 

Though… he has absolutely nothing to write home about. Soap bar, incredibly uninteresting scentless shampoo and conditioner, and an equally unscented body wash that appears to be bought from a farmers market.

Of course, this is exactly what you should’ve expected but makes you groan when you can’t blast Spencer’s smell all over you like a plug-in Febreze air freshener. 

Shower ending quicker than anticipated, you dry off and put on a spare old t-shirt and boxers you stole from Spencer’s dresser before heading to his room. 

“You know,” you begin while walking back into Spencer’s bedroom, “I was excited to smell like you. Use up all your soap. Whole lotta nothing.” You laugh and sit beside him on the bed. Spencer’s eyes still trained on the case file before he sets it down to look at you.

“Hah. You’d be shocked with how many damaging chemicals there are in body washes, hair wash. Especially for women. The sulfates in all that can irritate your skin, make your hair fall out, and even lead to cancer. Actually, did you know that even lung issues can get worse with sulfates by how they can decrease lung function with fragrance and can make asthma conditions worse. So, you should really use cleaner products.” Spencer rambles on while rubbing one of his hands on your hip.

“Hm. I guess. I usually get sulfate free stuff anyway. You have no faith in me.”

“Good. This way you still smell like you after you shower.” 

“Yeah? What do I smell like?”

Spencer lets out a drawn out sigh. Picks up his case file.

“You’re distracting me.” He sing-songs. 

“Wh- hey! No fair, you banished me to shower and said you’d be done after!”

“I did not.”

“You insinuated…”

“Who has the eidetic memory?”

You huff and rest your head against his shoulder. If he doesn’t want to spend his free time with his lovely, beautiful, and perfect partner (his own words) then he should just let you be close to him in silence.

Silence never was either of your specialties.

After probably two minutes, you start getting antsy. You’re watching his fingers trail across the lines on a little map beside him, close enough to smell the nape of his neck. The glasses on the bridge of his nose slide down slightly.

You trail one of your hands “innocently” to his stomach. Rubbing slowly back and forth, one of your pinkies slips underneath the band of his trousers and Spencer stiffens immediately.

“So is this… how is this less distracting?” Spencer grabbed your wrist loosely, not moving you, but applying a pressure that surely tells himself that he is indeed still in control. He’s still trying his best to work.

You giggle and place a kiss on his temple, move your hand away. Spencer sighs out a laugh and bends down to kiss your shoulder in return.

If rubbing his stomach was too teasing, you have to get your hands on him another way. Knowing this was not going to be any less distracting, if not more than rubbing his stomach, you place your hand down to run slowly up and down the expanse of his thigh.

Spencer doesn’t say anything for a moment before looking over at you with his big pleading eyes, the ones you know so well.

“I’m…too…” Spencer trails off before looking down and chuckling.

Everything about him is contagious, you laugh too. 

“What? What? Thigh petting is off limits too?”

“It. Yeah, it turns me on too much.” His cheeks tint pink.

“Ahh. Right. So how can I touch you in a way that doesn’t pull your focus from work?”

“Umm,” Spencer scoots down a bit from where he was leaning against his headrest and puts the file down, “Uh.”

Giggling you trace a fingernail lighting on the sensitive inside of his arm. 

“Here?”

Goosebumps rise on his skin, his head reels.

“Oh, I get it. Here?” 

You lift that same finger to trail lightly at the skin on his throat, to his collarbone.

“Baby…” He scoots his body impossibly closer to you, his side pressed neatly up against yours.

“Or… should I stop?”

“Ugh. No.” He groans at openly admitting you’ve won him over.

Laughing, you lean in to finally kiss him properly. Now more eager than you were, Spencer kisses you back with an unspoken thanks for being able to pry him away from the inevitable eyestrain he would’ve gotten. He recalls a time where he mentioned to you how sometimes after looking at a map for too long he will blink and look away but it’s burnt into the back of his eyelids.

Spencers hard on pokes the side of your hip as he shifts to lay halfway on top of you. Lifting one of his hands to cup the hinge of your jaw, his fingers slightly squeeze, opening your mouth a bit wider for him to move his tongue against yours. Spencer always feels more confident when your mouth is busy not teasing him till the tips of his ears go red.

A moan at the bottom of your throat comes out and you take that as a sign to deepen the kiss, pushing the back of his head till your lips start to feel numb around the edges.

He pulls away briefly, talking against your lips in rushed out breaths.

“You have signs too. You’re not the only one who remembers erogenous zones. I could distract you pretty easily too.” 

Apparently, nobody has ever introduced Spencer to the phrase “it’s not a competition”, but the underlying proposition has a chill going down your spine.

“Is that so?”

“Mhm.” Spencer mumbles against your lips, biting your bottom lip softy as a parting gift before he pulls away. “Here. Let's try something.”

With an equally lazy and cocky smile stretched on his pretty lips, Spencer rises and scoots himself across the bed to find where the map he has folded in his case file rests. Pulling it out he hands the map over to where you still lay.

“Spence- huh?” You chuckle, not sure what his motive is.

Spencer starts moving towards you again, “You go look where I circled Milford, Ohio and you read to me where some of those connected lines are going to. Try it.” Spencer laughs softly at your skeptical gaze as you lay flat against his pillow and slowly raise the map over your gaze.

“Um. The red line looks like it’s connecting to… well, Kentucky… Covington?” You hadn’t picked up a physical map since you were a kid probably, you rely too heavily on your gps to continue this game.

While you’re slowly looking at all the drawings Spencer has made over this map in the past, his circles and dots all work together to display the intricate makings of his mind, how his ever impressive thought process manifests itself, it’s beautiful in a way. 

It’s… he’s kissing your inner thigh now?

“Spence!” You giggle, “what?”

“Go on, tell me what else you see.”

You get it now. He’s pressing soft slow kisses on each of your bare thighs now. The initial giggles you had slowly dissipate as realization sets in that you’re getting a taste of your own poison. 

“Uh-um,” you stutter, clearing your throat, “you have a really, pre-precise hand drawn circle-” you gasp at a nip at your thigh at your attempt at humor.

“I know you can do better than that.”

Spencer's tongue laving on the sensitive skin of your inner thighs has gotten you more frazzled than you expected. It feels mean, you only used your hands on him earlier, you wouldn’t be so rude to blatantly-

“Hips up?” Spencer whispers against your skin. His wet kisses are left cooling against your flesh as a warm swipe of wind enters his window and caresses you alongside him.

Wordless, your hips raise, you don’t really care the ways in which you have his mouth against you as long as you get there eventually. Despite popular belief you can be patient.

With Spencers boxers off, and your pussy on display now he takes his fingers and traces the outside of one thigh up and down, each time he trails up he gets closer to where your upper thigh and hip meet.

You remember his snide, you can do better, and refocus your eyes to the map again.

“Shiit… um. Here! Here, you have a red line drawn from Milford up to… C-canada? It’s um, it’s off the map. What does that mean?”

You can feel Spencer's lips smile against the skin of your lower belly while he’s feeling the soft skin of your clit with such a feather light touch it almost feels more intense than direct contact.

“That, my dear, is off the map because earlier you wanted to put your hand under my pants and I was so shocked my pen trailed off. That's what that means.”

Gulping, you let go of the map, it softly flutters to the ground beside you without a sound. With the barricade gone, you and Spencer are making direct eye contact again.

“Oh.”

Your thighs involuntarily tense, wanting to squeeze and hold Spencer in place between where you want him most. Spencer’s fingers spread you open for him to break eye contact with you for a more glimmering wet location on your body.

“Are you sorry?” He mumbles out a prompt so you can end this incredibly taught tension that is about to snap any second.

“I think…it’s harder than I thought, yes I am-”

You could’ve said I think you’ll survive, or not really, but there’s something so perfectly sweet about that funny grin he gets that reads “I actually did it!” All over his face, you have no shame in letting him win.

Before you can even verbalize a punctuation for your apology, Spencer is whimpering and licking a stripe up your pussy, your head falls harshly back against his pillow as you adjust to the swing from light touching to full sensation.

Spencer's too distracted now by his mouthy task so you take it on yourself to reach down and take the glasses off his face for him, he hums against you, still quite mannered even when taking you apart.

With his whole face at your exposal now you are able to grind yourself up and down on his face more eagerly. You and Spencer alike go crazy when he’s eating you out so intensely that his nose is buried into and there’s suspicious glimmering up to his brow bone when he’s done with you.

Totally involved in whatever dynamic today's events created, you want to feed into his clear begging for apologetic sympathy. 

“Don’t, ah, don’t know how you do it. Seeing all those connections- crazy, baby. So smart.”

You’re rewarded with a mix between a whine and grunt against your clit, no doubt that his hidden cheeks are pinking.

Once Spencer begins to take big suctions of your lips and alternates that between smaller suctions against just your clit, any drive to talk in long, legible, sentences flies out the window. You’re so close to coming you can taste it, you’re sure Spencer can too.

You can’t even warn him, not that you need permission, you just reach out to capture his hand in yours so you can squeeze it through the orgasm that is currently sending flashes of light behind your eyelids.

Huffing out a groan, you take a fistful of Spencer’s hair to pull his mouth off of you. 

“Shit that felt good, come here.”

Spencer laughs and crawls up your body to kiss you, his boner kissing your stomach through layers as he does so.

“That felt good?”

“Mm. Want you now.’

He does his usual subconscious small squeak in excitement that you don’t even think he notices and pushes his shirt that you’re wearing up to expose your breasts.

One hand fisting the white fabric, the other rests on one boob as he sucks small marks on your collar and cleavage, never able to fully satisfy his wandering mouth.

“You’re so gorgeous,” a kiss on your neck, “I’m so happy.”

His giddyness is replicated as you pepper his cheeks with kisses, hands finding their way down to his pants again as you pull down the zipper and tug once.

Spencer takes off his pants and underwear with little urgency as you fling your top off to his floor and move to take his button up off as well with trembling fingers.

He snorts lightly, “what’s the rush?”

“D-don’t you want me?” It’s not meant to seem insecure, you kind of wanted it to be bossy and sarcastic, but want has threaded itself so deep into your vocal chords that it just sounds whiny.

“Mhm,” he takes his shirt off and kisses your forehead, you both maneuver down again so he can rest on top of you. Spencer pushes his chin out lightly to tap your forehead, signaling you to lean back against his pillow. “You know that, silly.”

While you begin kissing again, he takes the spare pillow not underneath your head to place it under your hips.

“I’m not lying about before. I also know all the things that make you tick, you like to feel the pressure against your lower back while I’m in you because it releases the tension you store there, makes the pressure of me inside you more intense.”

Spencer giggles at your dazed expression as he reaches for a condom from his bedside table, 

“You just revert that stress you keep there to your thighs when you squeeze them around me.”

He’s starting to get breathless, his teasing works just as well against himself, the most delicious double ended sword.

A few tantalizing swipes against your clit and entrance and Spencer is pushing his head into you, pulling his lips in to keep his moans from drowning out yours. Which inevitably will happen, and he always gets embarrassed, but right now he has the strength to hold them back.

Your toes curl where they’re pressed against his sides, he’s taking his sweet time stretching you out around him. Which, he knows you die for as well.

“Ah. Always feel so good. Can’t- ahem,” he presses his chest flat against yours, changes topic, “you love when I take you slow because you like when I hold back for us both, b-because you can’t.”

Fuck?

“Spence-” You whimper in shock, he’s exceptionally talkative today. Hellbent on proving to you that he is indeed obsessed over what your biology has learned to want the most.

You can see the way his lips tremble as he’s talking and fucking you slowly, though. His talking you through it has bitten him in the ass, he’s forgotten how much he loves dirty talk that even his own words are breaking him apart.

Voicing the stuff that turns you on is arousing him incredibly. Not something he really accounted for as he feels that familiar sensation in his stomach. 

That’s surely nothing?

Spencer has picked up his speed now, driven by how your whines are building off of each other and curses are falling from your lips.

“If- If I let you be in control all the time-, Jesus… you’d uh.” He pauses his sentence with a loud whine, the thought of what he’s saying making the heat inside him pulsate in a painful way. His tummy is turning at such speeds that it can barely keep up with his words. 

“You’d be like a…bunny- uh jack rabbit. Jesus, I can’t.” His whines crescendo, sealing off this throat to hinder his own sweet talking.

You’re not even sure what’s happening, what’s going on inside his head that has him smashing his face into your neck to cum as he trembles on top of you.

He dirty talked you so hard he couldn’t even take it.

“M’ so sorry.” He’s whimpering against the skin of your neck, hips still moving against you slowly, pulling out everything he has to give you.

Head spinning at how fucking hot this is, you reach one hand down to rub your clit in fast circles as the other one pets the back of Spencers head soothingly. 

Unabashedly moaning loud now, you throb around his sensitive dick while you touch yourself.

“Spence, you’re a piece of work-”

You can’t help but notice your legs digging into his sides, the merit behind his observations remaining strong. 

“Baby- touch me, wanna cum.” You plead to him, Spencer pulls his head from your neck, whipping himself into action.

Still inside, he quickly pushes your hand away to take its place, he’s murmuring god god god as his humiliation and striving to make you cum hard meld in his brain.

When you cum for the second time, Spencer sucks in air sharply between his teeth as your twitching against him pushes him into complete overstimulation. He stays put though, watching the bliss in your face through half-lidded eyes is the biggest reason to take a bit of pain. 

Eventually he pulls out, once you’re dragging him in for a long kiss.

“Baby, I’m so sorry.” He laughs in between kisses at himself.

“Spencer, you’re so sexy. Such a sweet thing.”

He groans, tugs you on top of him while he’s flat on his back. You push his messied hair off his forehead in tender passes, you’re sure he can feel all your love in the way your nails caress his scalp.

“Mr. talk the talk-”

“Stop!” He laughs anyway. “I’ve never finished so fast.”

“And you’re calling me the jack rabbit!”