#and I watch an episode or two from one show before moving on to another

[always-thirsty-pocket]

I kinda want to make a blog just for cartoons I like or am currently watching but I feel like I already have too many neglected blogs and I don't know all the history and trivia to make any compelling material for the blog that would make it worth a follow, it'd just be a bunch of reblogs of other people's fan art and photo sets just like all my other blogs once I lose interest in doing anything original.

Also, after watching a lot of shows with a friend over discord, i've come to realize i'm stupid as hell and have no eye for analyzing the media I consume. Like I don't recognize bad writing unless it's also boring to me personally.

That, and if I shove yet another one of my interests off into another side blog, what the hell am I going to put on my main anymore? I already banished video games and virtual pets, there's not much left.

[purinfelix]

plsplsplspslpsl write calling bf barca boys (pedri, fermin, joao) + jude bellingham "bro"

"bro"

featuring: pedri, fermin, joao, gavi (i had to include my bby sorryyy!) and jude warnings: teensy bit cringe at times, be warned ...

a/n: once again apologising for being ia, but an eternal thank you to anon and every one else who's still interacting with me and sending me requests!! trying my best to get through them, thank you all for your patience <333

You don’t remember how it had happened honestly, the two of you had just been hanging out in his bedroom, a situation you had come to find comfort in since its frequency had become almost like a routine to the two of you. The air outside was cool, giving the two of you an excuse to curl up together under the blanket and binge watch episodes of your favourite show in a comfortable silence. That was, of course, until you heard the chime of your phone - causing you to perk up out of your boyfriends arms.

“Bro, could you get that for me?”

Pedri

Honestly he doesn’t think much of it at first, since your guys’ relationship has always been pretty casual in the way that you both trust each other enough not to overreact. He reckons that it probably slipped out by accident, and given that it’s what most of his teammates and friends call him, he doesn’t react that much. Sure, he noticed it, and filed it away to the back of his mind as a sign that you might be mad with him but he’s a pretty calm boyfriend only offers an amused eyebrow raise.

It’s only when he leans over and grabs your phone do you realise what you’ve said - but only decide to double down on it to get a reaction out of him.

“Thanks bro,” you say as nonchalantly as you can manage when he hands you your phone, immediately going to respond to whatever message had caused the notification sound. And at first it seems like he’s not going to indulge your obvious bait for a reaction - of course until you hear the rustle of bed sheets and his strong arm snake around your waist.

He lets out a soft mumble that roughly translates to - “What is it baby?” - as he buries his face into the crook of your neck in a loving, yet almost pleading manner. It doesn’t take long for you to give in to his charms.

“I’m only messing with you,” you giggle, patting the top of his head reassuringly.

Fermin

If there’s one thing you know about Fermin, it’s that he’s observant. However, another thing about him is that he’s a sly little shit. So whenever he feels he can sense you trying to prod at his temper it only ends in him serving you back your own attitude.

“Of course, bro,” he says, and even though you’re not looking at him as he turns to grab your phone, you can tell he has a wide smirk spread across his face.

You only give him a knowing look, and try your best to maintain your composure while stifling your laughter - but the minute he drops your phone into your hands you know he’s not going to back down on this.

“Thanks, dude,” you quip.

“Any time, my man.”

Silence, and you’re trying to figure out your next comeback while ignoring the weird way him calling you ‘my man’ made you feel. You feel oddly stupid for starting a game you know you couldn’t keep up with, but luckily your boyfriend has already caught wind of this by the look of amusement on his face.

“Something wrong, mate?” he chuckles as he leans over to peck your lips that you hadn’t realised had formed a pout. All you can do is sigh in faux-exhaustion before erupting into a fit of laughter.

Joao

It’s only once he’s reached over to grab your phone, that he clocks the odd new nickname. Immediately, but silently, his mind starts racing through the possible reasons as to why you’ve bestowed it upon him - did he do something wrong? He did only kiss you twice before leaving for training that morning, and he did accidentally move away from you when the two of you were cuddling earlier. He’s worried, but he’s also up to play your game if need be.

His grip on your phone tightens, and you hear his voice low, daring - “What was that darling?”

You truly meant it as an accident this time, and he manages to snap you out of it with his words. “Oh, sorry, babe,” you correct yourself and he nods as if to silently say that’s better.

You get your phone from him, and a quick kiss on the cheek before he settles back to wrapping his arms around you, tucking his head into the crook of your neck so he can look at your phone next to you.

Gavi

Whilst something like being called “bro” might not matter to most other guys, it definitely did to your boyfriend. His reaction to your words was immediate, his head whipping up from where he had been laying beside you, eyes round and pleading.

“What?” his voice was quiet, almost unbelieving and you had to try your best not to laugh at how dramatic your boyfriend’s reaction was. Still, a small chuckle escapes your lips, only making you feel worse as a small pout forms from his lips.

“Sorry, it slipped out,” you reassure him, reaching up a hand to stroke his cheek lovingly. He furrows his brows as if to pose the question - are you sure? But you only take this as a sign to mess with him, just a little more.

“What, you don’t like me calling you bro?” You’ve completely forgotten about your phone at this point.

“No, definitely not.” He’s oddly serious when he says this, but this only adds to how amused you are by this situation.

“Alright baby,” you hum out your apology, trying your best to further express this through your thumb on his cheek - and luckily he seems to get the message. Before you know it, he’s melted back into your arms, your fingers curling lazily around his hair.

Jude

“What?”

Jude is quick with it, turning to you immediately as soon as the word leaves your mouth with an expression that makes you realise your mistake all too quickly.

“Bro?” he asks again, almost daring you to repeat it, but the shocked laugh he lets out reassures you he isn’t taking it to seriously - only getting an unfair amount of amusement from your mistake.

“Whatever, babe, there,” you say in mock-annoyance, not wanting to let him get the better of you.

“Nuh-uh, you called me bro,” he pushed, leaning in close to you, his voice teasing.

“It was an accident, okay?”

“Sure,” he hums, finally grabbing your phone and handing it to you, all the while having a stupid smirk on his face, “I’ll just have to start calling you mate or something, yeah?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” you mutter through pouted lips and he finally gives up the act, settling back by your side and pecking your cheek as an apology.

[charliemwrites]

Part 4 of obsessed Johnny.

(Part 3 is here!)

(CW for nonconsensual ‘sort-of’ free use and edging; and again - dubious consent. Please stay safe!!)

Johnny’s favorite pastime is playing with you. If you didn’t know better, you’d think he’s being purposefully cruel, but no. He’s just… strangely preoccupied with your body.

He spends most nights cradling you between his legs, your back to his chest, arms wrapped around you. The two of you watch tv or movies, share popcorn - sometimes he watches you play on your Switch or reads over your shoulder.

It started out almost innocent (so to speak) in the beginning. He’s a fidgety guy, you’ve known that long before this whole mess, used to smile to yourself when you cleaned up straw wrappers and clean napkins folded into odd shapes.

So you barely notice when he starts fiddling with the hems of your sweatshirt and long shirts, picking at strings or running his thumb over knit textures. When he moved to your socks, that caught your attention but never went very far - just tugging at elastic lace or rolling/unrolling the tops along your thighs.

And then one night, as the two of you are watching the latest superhero movie, he hand creeps under your panties. You jolt the instant his fingers grazes your slit, hands twitching as you debate the dangers of redirecting him.

“Something wrong, Bonnie?” he asks against your ear, genuinely curious. “Is it too loud?”

It occurs to you that he genuinely might not realize what he’s doing - that reaching for you is just a thoughtless action like folding up bits of paper.

“Your hand is in my underwear,” you explain.

A pause. “Oh, so it is.” And to your surprise, he returns to hugging you.

It happens again though, this time you’re so preoccupied trying to beat a video game level that you almost don’t notice until his middle finger glides over your clit. You suck in a breath and die instantly.

“Damn,” he mutters. “Thought you had it that time. Gonna give it another go or you done for the night.”

Stuttering, you say you’ll give it another try, almost morbidly curious about how far he’ll go. Pretty far it turns out. He toys with your clit for 15 minutes before you clear your throat and shift, feeling unbearably wet and achy.

“Oh, shite. I did it again,” he mumbles, extracting his hand and settling it on the outside of your thigh. “No wonder you keep dying.”

The next time is during an intense tv show you’ve both gotten really into. It’s distracting from the weird reality you’ve found yourself in - but not weird enough that you can ignore Johnny tapping his finger nervously over your clit. You swear your heartbeat is starting to match that rhythm - tap, tap, tap. He doesn’t get the hint when you shift this time, eyes locked on the screen as he mutters to himself.

“No way is he secretly her brother. No fuckin’ way.”

You try to ignore it. Hope it’ll end in its own time when the tension dies down. It doesn’t. He lets the next episode load automatically, babbling to you about the crazy cliffhanger.

As it opens, his fingers travel down your slit to your entrance, find the slick there and play in it. Microthrusts against your leaking hole, just wetting his fingertip before dragging it out, up to your clit, three circles, then back down again.

It’s maddening but it’s not enough. You’re biting your lip so hard you’re surprised you don’t taste blood, thighs twitching with each jolt of pleasure coursing through you.

On and on it goes, slow and absent, maddening. Literally just playing with your pussy like a fidget toy. He’s not even fully hard against your lower back! Just the normal amount of mildly turned on that having you in his lap produces.

It’s driving you into a fucking spiral. So so sensitive, so close to the edge, but never enough. You just lay there trapped against him, dripping and desperate and determined to be quiet because you don’t know what else to do now. You can’t let yourself get off to this - but you also can’t find the words to remind him to stop.

When the episode - the finally - finally ends, he pulls his hand away, already gearing up to discuss theories for the next season with you. Instead, he’s cut off as you hiccup, near tears with being denied.

“What’s wrong, hen? I didn’t think it was that bad!” he says.

“You-you were…” you can’t get the words out, give up entirely. Time to see if he really is as devoted to pleasing you as he always swears.

You crawl out of his lap, flip onto your back, and yank him down by the hair. He makes a startled noise, eyes going huge, and then whimpers as his cheek presses into your absolutely soaked panties. Even that is a cruel but unintentional tease.

“Fix it,” you near sob.

“Of course, baby, of course,” he hurries to say, wriggling into a better position. “I’m sorry, love. So sorry. Got you all spun up, huh? Didn’t mean to. You’re just so soft and-”

You whine. “Soap, shut up and lick me!”

He moans, hips jerking hard into the mattress. “Yes, ma’am.”

[danikamariewrites]

Take It Slow

Bat boys x reader

Note: I wrote this when my latest depressive episode was keeping me in bed and I had no motivation for anything. I honestly think this brought me out of my slump. Honestly I might delete this later I just wanted to post it because I wrote it but we’ll see

Warnings: depression, angst, comfort

You hadn’t bothered to get out of bed. Couldn’t be bothered. There was nothing to do anyway. Your mates seem to be busy these days, leaving you to do the same daily activities that you’ve grown bored of.

You were always tired too. Today you were even more exhausted than usual.

You couldn’t fall back to sleep, your eyes fluttering occasionally as you tried to keep them open, watching the ticking clock above the mantle across from the bed.

The hands showed a little past one o’clock, meaning Cassian and Azriel are back from training and Rhys is either locked up in his office or out at meetings. Leaving you to your own devices again. Just like every day. Curling up in a ball in the middle of the comically large bed you snuggle into your pillow, pulling the sheets around your shoulders.

—

Azriel and Cassian had looked all over the house for you. For the first time in weeks they were free all day and wanted to spend all of their time with you.

While Cass looked in the many rooms on the main floor Azriel wandered upstairs to the bedroom you all share, following that glowing thread attached to your heart. He felt a tug, a wave of sadness, then nothing. Azriel hit an impenetrable wall that only Rhys could teach you to put up.

Lifting a scared fist he lightly wrapped on the door. Not waiting for a response Azriel gently pushed the door open, poking his head into the dark room. Slipping inside on near silent feet, Azriel moves to sit on the edge of the bed, placing a hand on your shoulder.

“Hey love, what are you still doing in bed?” Azriel’s tone was laced with concern, his fingers brushing your hair back from your forehead.

You bury your face deeper into your pillow, letting out a small noise that’s something between a groan and a whine. Azriel pulled back a little, now worried by your reaction to his touch. His mind raced. Are you sick? Is it your cycle?

The sound of the sheets rustling as you turned to face him had Azriel looking down at you again. A small frown on his plush lips. “Az,” you whisper, “I don’t want to be mean, but can you send Cass up. I-I just… I need him.” You swallow the lump in your throat, worried that one of your mates would take offense. But Cassian is the comforting one, he always knows what to say and holds you just right.

They all know this but your lip still trembles as tears start to build in your eyes as Azriel just looks at you unmoving. Closing your eyes you let a tear slide down your cheek. Azriel places a soft kiss on your forehead, murmuring that you didn’t hurt his feelings and he’d send Cass up right away.

Leaving the bedroom Azriel knew exactly what was wrong and would do anything to help you. Reaching out to Rhys in his mind as he walked into the kitchen As informs them what’s going on.

—

As soon as the door closed you let your tears flow. Curling up into a ball again you sobbed. You hoped Azriel wasn’t hurt that you asked for Cassian.

You hoped he knew that you love him and wouldn’t hurt his feelings. Your thoughts spiraled over your mates’s feelings, adding to your never ending worries.

These days your worries ranged from if you were helping your court to wondering if you’re just a burden to your mates. Another never ending cycle you go through daily.

You felt Cassian before you saw him. His love through the bond was breaking through the wall you put up. Before you knew it Cassian was laying next to you, pulling you to his bare chest and wrapping a massive wing around you two.

Cassian’s large, calloused hand comes to rest on your stomach under your shirt. His thumb rubs small circles on your skin, pressing small kisses against your hair.

“I’ve got you sweet pea, I’m right here.” Cassian whispers as a small sob shakes your body. You turn in his arms, burying your face in the crook of his neck.

The two of you stayed in bed all day, safe and sound in Cassian’s embrace. Waking up from a peaceful nap you find Cassian’s soft hazel eyes watching you. His fingers tracing the lines of your face.

“Hey,” he smiles at you.

“Hey.” You whisper, trying to smile back at him.

Your eyes wander to the window, noticing the setting sun casting brilliant shades of pink and orange across Velaris. Your stomach jolts and that heaviness settles in your throat again, the all too familiar feeling of guilt. Guilt for wasting your day moping in bed. Guilt for dragging Cassian into bed with you.

He knew where your mind was going and he wouldn’t let you spiral like that. Holding your chin between his thumb and forefinger he forces you to look at him again. “Don’t do that, y/n. You didn’t make me do this. You are having a hard time and need help from your mates, the people who are supposed to take care of you. I stayed with you because I wanted to because you needed me.” You nod your head in understanding.

Silent tears fall down your cheeks, no longer able to hold in your feelings at Cassian’s sweet words. He pulls you to his chest again running his fingers through your hair. “Do you want to talk about it?” He asks softly.

You nod again, swallowing that ever present lump in your throat. So you tell him everything. All your worries and fears. All your anxieties crowding your brain. And you felt so good after, like a weight has been lifted off your shoulder and your brain wasn’t weighing down your skull.

Cassian listened without interrupting you. He helped you and kissed you, whispering reassuring words when talking got too much. When you finished Cassian looked deep into your eyes. “I’m sorry you’ve had all these thoughts weighing you down, sweet pea. We are here for you. Don’t ever worry about being a burden because you are not, understand. You could never in a million years be a burden.”

Cassian always knew how to render you speechless. Fresh tears sprung from your eyes as you nod, wrapping your arms around his shoulders, burying your face in his neck.

The next time you woke up the sun was rising over Velaris, your mates holding you between them. Cassian and Rhys were still fast asleep but you felt that third pair of eyes watching you. Flipping over, you find Azriel’s bright hazel eyes staring at you softly. He rests a hand on your face, running his thumb across the apple of your cheek.

“Good morning, princess.” Azriel murmurs

“Good morning,” you whisper back.

Azriel rests his forehead against yours, pressing a gentle kiss to your nose. You break the comfortable silence, “Are you mad at me? About yesterday.”

“No, y/n. I’m not mad at you. You knew what you needed and you told me.” You snuggle closer to him, finally feeling calm. Az presses a kiss to your head, whispering, “Let’s rest for a little while longer.” You hum in agreement, sleep making your eyelids heavy again.

[nrdmssgs]

Kissing König on the forehead

Masterlist Kissing Ghost on the forehead Kissing Price on the forehead

TW: mentions of social anxiety

His life consists of you. Literally: you have become the measure of everything. There are no more 'Fridays' or 'Novembers' - there are days, weeks and months, until he sees you again. No more rooms in his house - there is a wall to which he pressed his back, giving you more space to pass by, when he first saw you. There is a stove where you burned your fingers, making his heart ache when he saw your tears for the first time. There is a window, by which he fell on his knees and frantically stroked and kissed your hands, after he heard your timid confession. Anything beautiful he witnessed, anything meaningful he heard or read, made sense, only when he thought, how would he share it with you.

König knows, It's too much, his eagerness to be by your side constantly, his hunger for your touch, his feelings - he is too much. And he is afraid, so terribly and utterly afraid, that one day you see it too and leave him. So he restrains himself, tries to be less vocal, clasps his hands around his elbows to not hug you every minute, he is around. König carefully plans every conversation, you two will have, when he is back from deployment. Sometimes these imaginary chats end good, other times - you yell at him, but what is even worse - you cry. Your tears, even ones, he imagines pain him so badly - he immediately takes out his phone and texts you.

"I am so sorry, Schatz."

He snaps back to reality only when he gets your worried answer. Of course, you get scared and want to know, what happened. So he has to come up with some excuse.

"I am sorry for not being right now with you. I know, it's evening back at home, and you are probably watching some show, and I remember, how you like cuddling, while doing it. I'm sorry for not being there."

König finally puts the phone away, hissing at himself for this episode.

When he finally returns, you refuse to wait for him at home and come straight to the station. He allows himself to squeeze you in his arms, but deep inside his head, König counts. "One-two-three-four-five-it's time to let her go, you can't just stand there and embarrass her with your tenderness in front of everyone. You are becoming too much once again."

You interrupt his inner tirade. "Let's go home, love."

An entrance door shuts behind his back, and he finally takes a deep breath in, feeling the familiar scents of your shared house. König hears some strange repeating noise, lowers his eyes and notices that you are immersed in the fight with a jamming zipper on your jacket. On the very next moment, he kneels before you, moves your hands away from the zipper and tries to figure it out himself. It takes him a while, because he is afraid to pull too hard, finally destroying the jacket. You look at him warmly and laugh softly. "König don't worry, I can handle it."

At that moment, zipper finally breaks. König frowns.

"You couldn't just mind your business, you idiot? Now she is going to finally see, how overwhelming you are, how you break everything, you care for, how you smother those, who you love. Is that what you wanted?" An angry voice inside his head shouts and silences everything around, including König himself. He doesn't feel his lips starting to tremble, forming some apologetic mumbling. He doesn't hear, when you try to reassure him.

So you take a quick step forward, and embrace him, pressing your lips against his forehead. Maybe that angry voice exists only in his head, but it's not the first time, you witness König tearing himself apart for no reason.

"You are overthinking again, love. But its going to be ok, I promise." Another kiss on his forehead.

"You are not overwhelming to be with, you are not annoying. No." By this time, you know all the terrifying things König's mind whispers and shouts to itself.

"No one is going to get tired and leave you. Especially not me." You kiss his closed eyes, not caring for remains of dark camouflage paint on his skin.

"You are overthinking, and it is ok, because it shows, that you really care. It's not your fault." You press your lips against his face, so that he not only hears, but also feels, what you are saying.

And that silents Königs anxiety and self-doubt. He suddenly feels tired, but endlessly loved. He finally comes back home, pulling you into a long and tight embrace, not counting seconds this time.

[erinfern0]

cutting the cord

spencer reid x explosives specialist!gn!reader

— gender-neutral nicknames, gender-neutral anatomy, only pronouns used are you, they, etc.

summary: the team struggles with a group who planned to plant a bomb in a town hall to spread awareness of their cause. as the only technicians available in the area are busy with another emergency, Spencer finds himself calling you, the closest off-duty technician he knew, despite how much he hates the idea.

warnings: emotional, angst(?), some swearing, love confession, and obviously stress, anxiety and fear for your life, etc. cliffhanger

a/n: this was highly inspired by episode 'hero worship' from season 10 of Criminal Minds. I haven't written anything besides smut for such a long time I wanted to give something like this a try. Itt's also over like 2,5k words long--- (I'm so sorry i don't even know how i wrote it)

Doomsday Prophets - The group they were tracking started off small, with a bunch of troubled, unsupervised teenagers led by their online guru, who believed the system was too flawed to even try to repair it. They spent their first months spreading their agenda with countless flayers and graffiti murals all over the most popular places in the city. No one knew his real name, just the internet alias of doomsking130. Even the great Garcia couldn't track him in time before one of his sidekicks got brutally beaten for trying to leave.

Countless informants, and hours spent in interrogation rooms with lower-ranked members and the injured boy, lead them to the leader struggling with psychosis and an overwhelming god complex. He believed the only way to get people's attention was to set a bomb in a nearby town hall in the early morning hours, showing even the government can't protect people from the truth, at least that's what the team thought.

He never even thought there might be security guards waiting for him, informed about his plans by the FBI. As soon as they saw him entering the building via security cameras, they called no other than SSA Hotchner, who had warned them earlier that something like this might happen soon. His team quickly moved into action, hoping they could stop him before he set up the bomb, just to avoid getting help from Bomb Techs.

“Dave, you and I go from the staff-only entry on the left, Morgan and Jareau take the right window, the security guard who called left it open,” said Agent Hotchner, pointing the right directions to his team, watching them split. “Reid and Callahan, you enter the front and look for any worker left in the building.”

Everyone nodded in understanding, splitting and running to their destinations with their guns in their hands. Dr. Reid could feel a tiny drop of sweat running down his brow as he pointed another person toward the front door. People ran away in fear but kept their mouths closed not to alarm the criminals' leader.

Some time passed, leading the team to the building's basement, where the leader set up his life's biggest achievement. A small-looking detonator, connected to two canisters of gasoline, was set next to the power outlet. The arrest was quick, he didn't try any games or to run away, he simply allowed Agent Rossi to cuff him, because the damage was done.

Or was about to be done.

The bomb was already set, giving the team one and a half hours to deal with it as the unsub refused to help. He screamed about how the government tries to control the youngest of all to be their mindless little soldiers. How the system was set to manipulate the youth into dying for the country that didn't care about them. He laughed as Agent Morgan inspected the bomb from a distance.

“Y'all are a part of their games, agents,” he spat as agent Rossi guided him to the door. “All I spread is the truth, you're just too blind to see them using you. My kids won't stop opening people's eyes, even when you take me away! The Doomsday will come as they realize they'd been lied to...”

“Aren't you even worse?” Asked Morgan, crossing his arms with a displeased look on his face.

"How so?" Asked the man, suspiciously calm and smug as he raised his head proudly.

"Well, technically speaking even if what you're saying is true, the government uses us to help other people who can't protect themselves from people like you," said Reid, staring at the man as if he were trying to look at his soul. "You on the other hand pressure troubled teens into doing your dirty work to feed your ever-growing god complex, which almost led one of them to death."

The unsub seemed to be confused, that little frown on his brows, mindlessly staring into the wall behind Dr. Reid as he parted his lips as if he was about to speak.

"Seems like you used up your limit," taunted Callahan, smirking at him as he opened his mouth again.

He started trashing his arms around in Rossi's grip, spitting something out in some Slavic language they couldn't understand.

“That's enough,” murmured Rossi, tightening his grip and taking the criminal outside, leading him to the car parked in front of the building alongside Callahan.

“I'll call the Techs,” said Hotchner, heading outside to get his phone.

Some minutes later he came back with his arms crossed and that strange, disappointed look.

"And?" Asked Morgan, looking around the room, kneeling beside the bomb, and inspecting it closer.

"They might or may not be here in an hour, there was another emergency, supposedly done by the Dooms Prophets," said Agent Hotchner, looking at all of his people who stayed inside.

"He planned this better than we thought," whispered Jennifer, looking at him with concern. "The kids must have lied..."

"Or he didn't trust all of them, the ones we got to speak with were younger, less devoted. He wouldn't trust them with that information," added Reid, standing beside Morgan.

"Yeah, but if he really treated them like prophets for the close-minded folks, he wouldn't change his mind from a long-lasting plan to something so quick," murmured Derek, looking up at his teammates.

"This was his plan all along, he knew he'd be caught. He just hoped his Prophets would continue his work without him," Reid chimed in, looking around to only see his teammates confused faces. "His nickname was 'doomsking130'… The bomb was set to an hour and a half," he added, looking at his watch, then the device. "I think the attack and the emergency wasn't his idea, it's his followers who tried to continue his work on their own."

They all stared at one another, nodding in agreement while processing his words, following up on the idea of their Boy Genius.

Morgan turned his head slightly to look at the messy-haired doctor. "This shit is too complicated, nothin' I've seen yet, this guy is a smart one," he whispered, shaking his head softly. "I can't deal with this... I'm sorry."

"Not your fault, Derek. We'll wait for the Techs," assured Hotchner, patting his agent's back as he stood up away from the bomb.

"There is no time," said Jareau, turning her head to her team. "You said they 'may or may not' be here in an hour, and we already lost a few minutes, they might be too late."

The atmosphere in the room felt heavier as Agent Rossi came back to the room, saying he got the local police to drag the leader to the station, while Kate called her family to inform them she'd be late. He felt as disappointed and worried as everyone, making sure to keep the pregnant agent safe, away from the building as the rest searched for a solution for a few more minutes.

"Reid," started Morgan, turning to face his friend. "Doesn't your lovebird know how to deal with those?"

"Um, yeah, they worked in the bomb disposal department, but decided to take a break from this a while back," he answered, already frowning his brows at the dreadful idea.

"Would they be able to disarm it?" joined Hotchner, crossing his arms as he listened.

"I think so..." he said unsurely, his hands shaking slightly at scenarios running through his head. "It wouldn't be exactly legal to bring them here, just for your information."

"Would be quicker than the actual technicians," noticed Jareau, looking at Spencer with a soft, understanding look on her face. She knew exactly how much it had to scare him, but like everyone else — she couldn't see another way.

"If they don't feel like doing it, we'll just have to wait for the Bomb Techs, as a civilian now, they shouldn't feel pressured into risking so much," reminded Hotchner, looking at Dr. Reid with a glimpse of sympathy.

"But saving some time would be nice," said Morgan unapologetically, moving closer to Reid. "They live only a few blocks away, local police could escort them and secure the area."

Jennifer came up to Spencer, slowly wrapping an arm around him, soothing his tense muscles. She saw the distress in his eyes, but just like the doctor, she didn't like the idea.

"I'll call," decided Spencer, closing his eyes to calm down. "They live around eight minutes away from here, but-"

"It's up to them," assured Hotchner, nodding his head in understanding. "I'll make some calls, to make sure they won't get into any trouble if they decide to come."

Getting a call from Spencer so early in the morning was usual, so you left your book on the side of the couch, paying your full attention to his words. He spoke quickly, almost too quickly as he tried to summarize everything in the shortest amount of time possible, making it hard for you to interrupt him. Just the tiredness and distress in his voice made you melt, gathering your kit before he could even finish his ramble.

You didn't hesitate, jumping into the police car he talked about that escorted you right to the town hall, passing the barrier blocks and reporters who tried to talk to you. You covered your face with your hood, knowing too well not to talk to them, especially that you weren't there exactly legally. Passing agents Rossi and Callahan, you waved at them, getting polite nods as they watched you disappear into the building.

You walked as quickly as possible, guided by the deputy that drove you there. Something felt different, deep inside of you as you ran downstairs to the basement. It wasn't the first time you got an urgent call to help disarm a bomb, that was your entire life for the past few years, but just reminding yourself of Spencer's voice made your heart beat a little faster.

"SSA Aaron Hotchner," said the tall man who stood in the middle of the room, nodding his head as he shook your hand. He was the only member of the team you didn't have the chance to meet. You introduced yourself. Just hearing your own specialist title fall from your lips felt so distant as you were on a break for the past few months.

You nodded to everyone, only locking eyes with Spencer, who got closer as if just his presence was meant to protect you. "Agent Hotchner," you started, looking away from your boyfriend to kneel beside the device, opening your kit of tools in a hurry. "Evacuate the building and the area, I'll do my best but with devices like this..."

"I understand," he assured, letting Morgan and Jareau leave the room. There was only one more person who didn't budge beside him. "Reid?"

You looked to your side, watching Spencer shake his head and roll his sleeves up. "I'd like to stay," he said as if it was nothing, not even looking at his superior.

"It's your call," said Hotchner, looking at him with worry, but he left the basement. You knew if you weren't so important to Spencer he'd never allow this kind of behavior, but you could feel your blood boil at just the idea of him staying.

"Leave," you said simply, knowing how dangerous it was for him. At that moment, you didn't even care for yourself, you've done this a million times, but risking his life...

"Not a chance," he replied, reaching for your flashlight to help you. You could see the way his hands started shaking then he lifted it and it started to break your heart.

"You can't do this, Spence," you whispered breathlessly, focusing your eyes on the device. Two detachable components connected only by a few wires, a wide panel to control the bomb was already turned off the moment the time was set and two big canisters of gasoline beside just to make the explosion more dangerous.

"I can and I will," he said firmly, watching your skilled fingers run over the bomb to carefully detach the two parts.

"For fucks sake, Spencer," you sighed, already feeling the way your lip quivered with every word. "I can't promise you anything, I can't do this to you..."

"I'm not leaving," he repeated through gritted teeth, looking up at you from under his messy hair, covering most of his face as he spoke. "And stop trying to convince me otherwise."

You wiped the tears that spilled from your eyes as they followed one wire after another, watching the way they split and connected to find the one to cut. There were way more than in a usual device and just from the look of it, you knew some of them were just decoys, not really connected to any part, not activating anything, just being there to fuck with the mind of the person who dared to try defusing it.

"I can't focus when all I can think of is this killing you," you whispered, your voice breaking with every passing second. "Leave me here, I need to do this alone... I can't risk your life like this. You mean too much not only to me but to your team, your mom, the people who will need the help of an actual genius, so please, just spare me the talking and get out when you still have the chance. It's so selfish to even think..."

His calm and soft voice stopped you in the middle of your monologue. Tears kept falling down your face as you recognized the words he spoke. The stubborn bastard couldn't even fathom the idea of leaving you to this by yourself. Despite how scared he was inside, he kept his cool, reciting one of your favorite books from memory.

You inhaled deeply, feeling yourself growing more steady and calm, your muscles relaxing with every paragraph. Despite biting into your lip harshly, you didn't feel the pain, the tears were gone and the annoyingly fast heartbeat eased.

Spencer kept his eyes glued to your fingers as he took breaths in between each sentence, only glimpsing up a you for a second every time you cut another decoy wire to clear your way to the actual ones.

The time seemed to stop despite the timer showing you almost an hour passed already, leaving you with only a few minutes to neutralize the threat. You wiped your face in your hoodie, getting rid of sweat and tears as you cut through the last decoy, leading you to analyze the actual device.

You caught the cord you thought was the right one with your scissors, swallowing harshly at just the idea of you being wrong. You reached your free hand to the side, mindlessly searching for his. Doing this was not only risking the lives of you and Spencer but potentially unaware people who happened to be close by. Your heart sped up drastically as you made the decision.

Looking up, you saw Spencer who stopped mid-sentence. A look of worry passed through his face as he intertwined your fingers, his other hand resting on the back of your head, soothing you by slowly moving his fingers through your hair.

"Spencer," you whispered breathlessly, a stray tear running down your cheek, leaving him to quickly wipe it off with a soft smile."I love you..."

His smile only grew bigger as looked at you, that familiar sparkle in his eye shining brightly at you. His eyes were teary, but he didn't let any tears spill as he nodded. Those puppy eyes stared at you with the most love you've ever seen.

"I know," he whispered back, his voice cracking as he looked down at your hands.

You felt like the whole world crushed over you as he didn't say those words back, unlike he did a million times before. Your heart sank but you just looked down, brows frowned as you focused not to lose all composure you had left.

For a split second, the basement was filled with eerie silence as you pushed down on the scissors, cutting the cord in half.

masterlist | request info

[p3terparker]

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: leon is too shy to make a move on you

𝘄/𝗰: 0.7k

𝗮/𝗻: this is my first leon fic and i haven’t written in months so please be nice to me 😭 i hope you guys enjoy!! ♡

it’s no secret leon is shy. ever since the beginning of your relationship– which was months ago– you were always the one to initiate things between you two, not just sexually. he was too shy even to hold your hand or start a cuddle session. you don’t mind that; in fact, you even find it quite cute how he starts to blush when you do something as simple as kissing him on his cheek, but sometimes you don’t always want to be the one to make a move, which is why you had completely deprived him of any physical touch.

you can tell he’s bothered. he’s been staring at you as soon as you two sat on the couch together and put on your guy’s favorite TV show. he not so subtly coughs to get your attention too, but you choose to ignore that as you hold back a giggle. it’s obvious he wants to cuddle, but you’re not going to give him what he wants unless he does it himself.

as the show progresses to the next episode, you finally decide to speak up after feeling his eyes on you throughout the entirety of the first episode.

“you need something leon?” you ask while looking away from the TV you were watching.

“w-what? oh um, no. why do you ask?” he stumbles over his words as a slight blush creeps over his face.

“because you’ve been staring at me ever since you got home” you giggle

“oh.. sorry” he murmurs out timidly while finally looking away from your face and towards the TV.

that was the last thing that was said before the next episode started and you were engulfed in the show you were watching again.

it didn’t take long for his attention to fall back onto you, staring at you in disbelief because you’re not giving him what he wants. it’s killing you inside to not just wrap yourself in his arms, but you have to stand strong. you continue watching your show for another 15 minutes before leon finally reaches his breaking point.

“why are you doing this to me?”

you pause the show and get a good look at his face. he has a small pout and a look of sadness painted all over his face which causes you to feel a twinge of pain in your chest.

“doing what?”

“ignoring me”

“i’m not–”

“yes you are. you didn’t give me a hug or kiss when i got home and now you’re not cuddling with me like you always do” he cuts you off and lets the words pour out frustratedly.

you kind of feel bad but at the same time can’t help yourself from laughing at how frustrated he is over an issue he could’ve avoided by just making a move on you.

“you know you could’ve kissed me and cuddled me yourself, right?”

now he’s silent because you just called him out.

“yeah but… i don’t know how” he timidly says.

“what do you mean you don’t know how?”

“you make me nervous. you’re my first relationship and i don’t know how to initiate anything between us without making things awkward” he quietly states, barely able to make eye contact with you.

“aww leon, come here” you say while finally embracing him. you can feel the tension release from his body as soon as he lays his head on your chest.

“you could never make things awkward between us leon. and as for me making you nervous, do you know how nervous you make me? like seriously, you’re insanely hot and also have the sweetest personality ever”

“stoppp” he whines but gives you a look that tells you he secretly loves what you’re saying.

“alright alright, but i'm serious leon. nothing you say or do could make things awkward between us. you don’t know how much i want you to initiate something for once, i’m tired of practically wearing the pants in our relationship” you laugh while semi-joking.

you don’t know if it’s the entirety of the little speech you gave him or the comment about you wearing the pants in your relationship that caused a change in his demeanor, but suddenly he flipped your position to where he has you pinned beneath him on the couch and passionately kissed you.

“who’s wearing the pants now?”

[mellifiedprincess]

When you started dating Matt, he realized very quickly how deeply you felt things. And what he meant by that is, you sometimes had feelings so strong about something you would end up an emotional mess.

For most people something like that would be quite overwhelming, but not for you. You embraced it.

You found the way you cared so much or thought so much about something to be one of many charming characteristics about yourself.

And sometimes even funny.

Matt couldn’t count how many times he has walked in on you with tears streaming down your cute little face for such bizarre reasons. One time it was because you couldn’t find your favorite nail polish.

Another time it was because you saw an old picture of your mom’s favorite pet growing up. You had never even met the cat and you were crying over it.

“But I just know we would have been best friends!” Was your argument of why you were so emotional over the animal. Matt could only roll his eyes affectionately and cradle your head against his chest.

Yes, he thought it was one of the most ridiculous things to cry about, but he loved you and thought it was endearing only because it was you.

He knew during your “episodes” there wasn’t much he could offer besides the comfort of his presence.

Fast forward to today.

You were minding your business, scrolling through tiktok while the boys were doing who knows what, when a sweet edit of Matt pops up on your fyp.

Of course you watched it. As soon as you saw Matt’s cute little grin, you were sucked in. The transition from him laughing, to him dancing, makes the smile on your face grow even more. He was so cute, it actually hurt your heart and you needed to see his face right then and there.

Tears started running down your face as you walk from the room you share with Matt, to the kitchen, eyes immediately landing on just the person you were looking for.

He was standing in the middle of the room, reading something on his phone not noticing the frazzled state you were in. He didn’t even notice you were there until he felt your arms wrap around his waist and face press into his back.

“Hi baby.” He quietly greets as one of his hands instinctively drop down to grab one of yours, his thumb rubbing softly against the back of your hand. And just the gentleness of his actions is enough to make you squeeze your eyes shut, causing more tears to run out. “You’re so cute Matty!”

At the sound of your watery voice he’s concerned, but then he registers what you said and knows this is one of your episodes. Though still concerned, because he hates when you cry, he is relieved it’s not something too serious.

He moves to pull you in front of him before taking your arms to wrap themselves back around his waist. Matt then quickly wipes at your waterline, trying to stop your tears.

“Why are you crying sweetheart?”

“Because!” You pause and bury your face in his chest and you feel his hand begin to run through your messy hair.

“I just- I love you so much! I feel like my heart melts every time I look at your cute little face.” You cry out, words muffled by his shirt. And if you were to look up right now, you would see a very amused grin on your boyfriend’s face.

“Is that right? The same thing happens to me when I look at you, so glad we’re on the same page.” There’s a lightness to his words, but genuinely meaning them.

You both are silent for a few moments. Matt just holding you tightly against his body, making sure you knew he was there. “I saw this really cute edit of you on tiktok and it just made me really happy. I needed to see your face immediately.”

“You wanna show me the edit?” You perk up instantly at his question, a giddy feeling flooding through your body. “In a minute, Matty. I just need you to keep holding me like this.”

“Okay angel. I got you.” Matt rests his cheek on top of your head and starts to slowly sway you both back and forth. His words settle into the silence surrounding you two and you get another rush of emotions spread throughout your chest.

And unbeknownst to you, Matt had the same rush of emotions spread throughout his chest. He felt so fucking lucky to have someone who loved him as much as you did.

The moment between you two was short lived when you hear another set of footsteps walking downstairs, and then the silence is once again broken by Nicks voice.

“Ugh, serious situation or one of her episodes?” Matt cuts his eyes over to Nick, making the older sibling throw his hands up in a defensive manner. “What? I love my bestie, but she could give Mantis (guardians of the galaxy) a run for her money.”

“Shut the fuck up. We were having a moment here.” Matt states and you pull away from his body, looking at Nick with a soft smile. “Stop yelling at him. It’s okay Nick, it’s just another one of my silly little moments.” You laugh and start pulling Matt’s sleeve, walking towards your bedroom.

Matt sits on the edge of the bed, not wasting anytime in pulling you down into his lap and wrapping his arms back around you.

“Do I really seem more emotional than Mantis?” Your question only makes your boyfriend laugh, answering your question without saying anything.

“It doesn’t matter, sweetheart. Everyone loves your little episodes. It’s almost refreshing in a sense because of how innocent it makes you seem. You just have such a big heart things make you so happy sometimes, you can’t help but cry.”

His small rant makes you squeeze your eyes shut from more tears and you place kisses all over his face, before landing one on his lips.

“Do you really mean that?”

“Of course I do! And I mean it when I say I wouldn’t change anything about you for the world.”

A thought passes through your mind and a small laugh escapes your mouth. “I wouldn’t change anything about you either, not even the weird thing your pinky does when you drink something.”

“Oh great, now I’m getting bullied by the internet and my girlfriend.”

the edit that inspired this:

FULL CREDIT TO @nllzharry on tiktok!

[thexsilentxwordsmith]

Jealous!Possessive!Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!reader

Fandom: Call of Duty

Character(s): Simon Riley, Reader

Summary: A night out at your favorite local hangout is what he promised you after being away on deployment for so long, but one small incident throws him over the edge into full on possessive episode. Something about the way he is pulling off to the side of the road might mean he can't make it home before reclaiming his prize.

Word Count: 5.1 k

Warnings:

“Come on, you promised,” you say as you straighten your skirt and adjust your top, looking back at Simon from within the bathroom mirror as he stands behind you, watching you finish getting ready. “You said we could have a night out once you got back from deployment, just the two of us. We always stay in; I want to go out.”

Simon sighs; he can’t ever say no to you even though he is not keen on the idea. “I did, didn’t I,” he agrees with defeat as he advances into the bathroom until he is within reach to wrap his arms around your middle, pulling you flush against his broad, hard chest. “Ya know I’m not against it, I don’t like to fuckin’ share ya is all.”

Heated lips are caressing the skin of your shoulder making it prickle under his touch as he kisses all of that exposed skin. You only allow yourself to enjoy the feeling for a moment before you shift in his grip, any longer and you are going to be right where he wants you: at his mercy and forgetting all about going anywhere tonight.

“Later,” you breathe. “I promise; just want you to take me out first. A few hours at the bar, a couple drinks with a bit of conversation, and then we’ll be back to end the night right, okay?”

He nods. “If that’s what ya want, sweetheart, then that’s what we’ll do,” he agrees and you pull him in for a kiss on his lips before sending off to get dressed.

The bar is already gathering a good crowd inside by the time you arrive. With Simon’s hand firmly wrapped around your hip, you enter the familiar hangout and instantly you are drawing looks in your direction. It’s easy enough to get attention, being as massive of a man as Simon is, it isn’t difficult, but that is exactly what he wants. He needs those here to see his hands all over you, needs those around to be aware of who you’re here with so that there won’t be any trouble tonight.

He knows what a prize he has; you are his and god help the idiot that doesn’t get that.

It is the same each time you step foot out of the house together, some part of Simon has to be connected to you at all times: a hand on your lower back, his arm snaking its way around your waist or hip, your combined hands locked into one another. Anything and everything to show that you are taken. Those brown eyes scan the area, taking note of those that look your way as you walk to where you’re going to sit.

A table is chosen off to the side, one out of the way of the main area where you can be more secluded. Here he can have you all to himself just the way he likes it. From the minute he returns from the bar with your drinks and he sits down, his coarse hands with those rough fingertips are on you, lightly brushing over the tops of your bare thighs that poke out from the bottom of your skirt. That brown gaze cannot stay off you as he looks you up and down as you talk through his mask which he occasionally pulls up to sip at his glass of bourbon and take a drag from his cigarette.

After a while you decide you want one more drink and move to get up to go order. Simon tries to convince you otherwise, he can go get whatever you need just as he has all night, but you dismiss him.

“I’ll be right back,” you say as you give him a quick kiss on his exposed lips and walk off before he can answer.

He should be the one to get it, he shouldn’t have allowed you to go, but he let his judgment lapse as the night has been fine so far without consequence. He looks up as you make it up to the bar all alone and unattended and out of his immediate reach. Standing there looking like you do, short skirt and tight top showcasing your most tempting assets, it would be hard for anyone not to have a peak.

It is then that Simon catches a bastard plastered off his rocker stumbling over from a few seats down, right to where you are. There aren’t many other pretty little things around tonight and so Simon is sure this asshole is going to shoot his shot cause there is no way he is wanting to go home alone and that has his blood already boiling.

A few slurred words he musters out to get you to engage with him, even though you are quickly shaking your head it isn’t enough to get him to leave you be. Simon is getting up from his seat when the drunkard’s hand inches down onto your lower back, thumb rubbing up and down, catching you by surprise to make you gasp. You have no time to react before Simon is seeing red and he moves in hastily with his fist clenched and ready to connect with the guy’s mouth.

“Get your fuckin’ hand off ‘er,” his angry voice bellows as he rips the guy away from you and shoves him hard causing the idiot to stagger over his unsteady feet. Emotions are high so once he’s got him off you fists start flying from both: one for touching you and the other for having his play messed with. Too bad for the drunk that Simon isn’t one to be messed with; his fist wallops him square in the jaw so that the man falls to the ground.

But it isn’t finished, not until this bastard learns his lesson. Simon makes his way on top of him and waylays into the man with heavy punches that make repeated contact with his face, not giving the guy a second to get any hits in himself.

“Ya like putin’ your hands on things?” Simon growls menacingly through the tussle, “just fuckin’ try gettin’ ‘em on me. Fuckin’ can’t, can ya?”

The altercation is drawing stares from the other patrons, though no one is really keen on getting in the middle of things. You can’t blame them; Simon is a huge man with enough weight to throw around and that makes him a formidable opponent to anyone outside of a heavyweight boxer. Who is going to willingly step in front of a freight train barreling down the tracks?

“Simon, fucking stop,” you beg as the corner of your eye clocks movement from the bartender bolting up towards the front of the bar to where the bouncer stands just outside the door. “You made your point. We’re going to get kicked out. Fucking let him go.”

Simon doesn’t care; another man has put his hand on you and he can’t let that go. He won’t. You are his, HIS, and inebriated or not he will not stand for anyone trying to move in on his territory. This idiot is gonna learn real fucking quick to fear his masked face and think twice whenever he comes in here again.

“Goddammit Simon,” you sigh under your breath angrily as you know what’s coming next - two people are fast approaching. The bartender is back with the bouncer in tow who immediately jumps into ripping the drunkard out from Simon’s grasp and standing them both back to their feet, but separated.

“You’re outta here, buddy,” the bouncer says to a panting Simon and points a stern finger to the exit with a look in his eyes that says not to take this further or else. “Leave, now.”

You wrap your hand around Simon’s wide bicep and tug, but he has some parting words for the prick with the bloody nose still standing close by. “Best learn your fuckin’ lesson not to touch what ain’t yours. Next time ya might not be so fuckin’ lucky,” he growls menacingly before flexing in your grip, ripping his arm away.

"Come on," he barks at you as he storms out while you quickly pay the remaining tab, offer an embarassed apology, and rush after him.

By the time you get outside Simon is leaning against your car with a cigarette already pressed between his pursed lips as he irately sucks the stick down fast as he can, billowing smoke out like a chimney. His shoulders are tense, his free hand clenching and unclenching itself at his side. You storm over to him, the heat in your cheeks making your face burn as your heartbeat pounds heavy and fast in your chest.

“What the fuck was that?” you ask, venom in your tone.

He avoids your question, his eyes pointed at the ground. “Get in the car,” he says sternly through another large cloud of smoke.

You know he isn’t drunk, he’s barely finished two glasses of bourbon all night, so you want to know why the hell he flew off the handle like that. You know that Simon can be a bit jealous, a bit possessive, evident most when you two go out together. If he catches a lingering eye there will always be a stern glare or at most a bark to back off, but this is the farthest he has ever taken things and you aren’t sure what to feel about it all, so anger settles in first.

Shaking your head, you stand your ground. “Not until you tell me what the fuck is wrong with you,” you demand, but he just silently opens the driver side door as he flicks the butt of his cig to the ground. “You realize they may never allow us back in, right?”

“Get. In.” he orders with authority as he sits down. “Now.”

This isn’t getting anywhere and you’re done causing a scene in public. Gritting your teeth behind your closed lips you march over to the passenger side of the car and fling open the door to scramble inside, slamming it shut before he does the same, starts the car, and peels out to head back to your shared flat. You cross your arms over your chest and huff, agitated that the night has to end this way when moments before everything was going fine.

“Whatever,” you spit back harshly.

Keeping his eyes fixated on the road ahead, uncomfortably shifting in his seat a few times, Simon drives on in complete silence. His grip on the steering wheel is turning his knuckles white from the pressure and yet he won’t let up. Fine, if he wants to stay quiet that’s his prerogative. Too bad for him you aren’t done speaking your peace yet.

“I can’t fucking believe you,” you say, breaking the heavy stillness that permeates the car, “you’re always getting jealous of shit that I can’t help, but this time you’ve gone to far; Christ, you’ve been gone for too long to ruin our time together like this. What are you, twelve? The guy had no chance in hell of getting any farther than that, but you had to go and blow it all out of proportion. I could have just told the bartender and gotten him thrown out or something and we could have gone back to enjoying our night, but no.”

You continue your tirade as Simon turns the car down a deserted road and you notice something is off. This isn’t the usual route you take back to your place; you think it a little odd, but you are too angry to care and so pay that small detail little mind. “You and your goddamn jealousy are really turning me off lately. Get it together, Si. What are you so worried about, hmm? You think he's just gonna steal me away just like that without even trying?”

Simon still isn’t saying anything and that only makes you more agitated. The least he could do is apologize and promise to make it up to you for ruining the night. Spitting a few more heated things under your breath as you turn your head away, you don’t notice that the car is suddenly being pulled over to the side of the road until he brings it to a full stop in the grass off the shoulder, putting it in park and turning it off.

The spot is shadowed by a group of trees that block the nearest streetlight just a few feet away. You can just barely make out the outline of his body in the dimness, though you can clearly hear the movement of him adjusting his seat, slamming it back until it latches, followed by his hand reaching around near your side until he latches onto your wrist.

“Ya think I'm worried about some bastard tryin’ to take ya from me?” he asks, speaking for the first time since he told you to get in the car.

“What’re you…?” you ask back in confusion as he pulls and keeps pulling at your arm until you are forced to move closer, your hips within reach so that he can take hold and forcibly guide your body directly over top of his lap, knees digging into the seat cushion until you are straddled over his crotch. The steering wheel bites into your lower back as you fit yourself into the tight space between Simon’s hulking form and the dashboard panel.

Without a single word, he pushes your hips down hard to press your pussy flush against him, your legs being forced to spread wide from his stocky thighs pushing them apart as your skirt rides up to your waist. He then starts to grind roughly against you with rocking movements, hips rolling into you again and again. The hot air of his mouth can be felt on your lips as it filters through the fabric of his mask, your faces so close together that only that thin piece of cloth keeps your mouths from meeting.

Over and over he pushes himself up against the crotch of your panties unhindered by the opening, his cock bulging and straining against your sex the longer he ruts into you with just a few measly layers of fabric between your bodies. His cock is hard and unyielding as it rubs into your petals trying to push through and up into your entrance.

Your panties are bunched in your slit, slowly dampening the longer he grinds into you until the fabric has been soaked through and gathering on his jeans. The adrenaline coursing its way through your veins heightens all of your senses so that every hard touch of his hands, every nuzzle of that engorged appendage between your thighs, every trace of his fingers over your bare skin feels like electricity and you can hardly contain yourself. The anger that was festering now alters course as he forces you to ride him by guiding your hips down to get just a little more friction; now it is replaced by a much stronger emotion: desire.

“Do ya not understand, luv? Guess I’m gonna need ta be more direct,” he says, the cold spot growing on his denim now being felt against the skin of his inner thigh. “First, take off the mask.”

With unsteady fingers you search for the edge of his balaclava and draw it up over his mouth, his nose, over his forehead, and finally off his head entirely so that his face is revealed to you. His hands leave your hips, one clasping around your chin to wrench your head out of the way while the other paws heavily at your breast as he leans his face in towards your neck.

“Now I’m forced to make sure my pretty girl knows who the fuck she belongs to,” he groans, low and guttural before his mouth is on you.

Sharp teeth are dragged down the length of all that delicate skin on your throat, bursting capillaries to leave his mark before his mouth latches on to the side just below your ear and you feel the sting as his teeth dig in. The pressure is so hard from the suction of his lips you can almost feel the skin bubble up into his mouth; there is no question that there will be a big, angry, purple blotch by tomorrow if he keeps at it. And he doesn’t seem like he is going to let up anytime soon, not until his signature takes.

Stinging and pressure, mixed with Simon’s warm, sticky breath moistening your skin from his lips, and your sanity is slowly fading. You want to stay mad at him, to make him pay for the way he acted, but the longer he works your body the harder it is becoming.

“What if I’m still too angry to do anything with you?” you question.

Even you don't believe that lie, but still you aren't going to give in without a little pushback.

His movements don’t even slow for a second. “I don’t fuckin’ care,” he says in a breathy whisper, punctuating each word for emphasis.

Simon groans into your skin so that it vibrates in his mouth, his hand around your breast kneading it more aggressively as he can’t get enough purchase through your clothes. He needs these damned things gone and quick, his body is burning to touch all that soft flesh. Fabric strains and seams pop as he grabs your shirt in his hands and pulls, ripping the skimpy thing right down the middle and leaving the top and your bra in tatters just to pull your tits out of the opening the tear has created.

“Fuck this, need ta feel these,” he breathes as his face dives back into your neck.

Tits palmed in his gigantic hands, his fingers toy with the nipples ceaselessly until you can feel a pulsing deep in your clit from the stimulation. A pathetic whimper escapes your lips that you can’t swallow down and you swear his mouth is forming into a smile against your skin.

Finally he emerges from your throat, lips swollen and red from the constant pressure against your neck. The warmth of his breath makes your neck tingle where his saliva has dampened it. “Let me make this crystal fuckin’ clear. You’re mine,” he breathes, his low, gruff voice sending shivers down your spine. “Mine: with, taken, spoken for. I don’t give a fuck how far ya were gonna let it get with that bloody bastard, you’re mine. And no one, no one, touches what’s mine, understand?”

There is no fight left in you to deny him of anything, not the way he has your mind already in a disorienting haze. You nod your head in submission, even though you can hardly remember what he just asked.

“I’m the only fuckin’ guy for ya,” he groans with a malicious smirk, “the only one that can have ya. And ya want me too, don’tcha sweetheart? Ya know I’m gonna be tha only one to always protect ya, to look after ya…”

Reaching his hand between your bodies, he shifts his hips under you so that he can undo his belt buckle, then the button on his jeans, and finally pull down the zipper. Sticking his hand inside the shadowed recesses of his boxers, he pulls out and releases that thick, veiny appendage that has been steadily engorging from the moment he got in the car. It throbs and jerks in his hand as he pulls up his shirt over his chest and angles his cock up towards his stomach.

“..and if I have my way tonight I’m gonna be the one watchin’ my DNA leak outta ya just ta prove that you belong to me and only me,” he says, breath hitching from the sensitivity as his hand moves over the tip.

He pulls your hips forward so that you are positioned over top of it and you can feel his cold piercing brush against your clit as he forces you to grind on him over your panties. That fucking thing is always a surprise, the Prince Albert he’s had since before he even joined the military, though it is always a welcome one. He’s teasing you, tempting you, forcing you to fall apart without giving you anything more than a raw humping and it’s working like a charm. Up and down his cock strokes through your clothed petals, rendering you a writhing mess.

“I’m not playin’ anymore when it comes to you,” he says firmly. “I know what I got and I ain’t sharin’. You’re the only one I want and I won’t have some bastard try to take ya away.”

Aggressively, calloused fingers divide through the strands of your hair at the back of your head so that his grip is securely woven into you. He holds your head in place as he locks his auburn gaze onto your eyes, mouth inching ever nearer, but stopping just shy of your begging lips.

“Next guy that touches I’m gonna fuckin’ kill,” he breathes as his mouth connects with yours mercilessly, stealing the air from your lungs as he captures your lips to claim that mouth as his property.

Minutes pass with him overwhelming your senses: his thick cock slipping between your legs, his lips locked to yours in that fight of back and forth, his fingertips digging into the bulk of your hips to hold you down onto him. It’s almost too much and the longer it goes on the worse of a mess you become.

The tears are pooling at the rims of your eyes, your body aching and overwhelmingly sensitive that all you want to do is put his cock in, have your pussy swallow him up and fill you full so that you can finally come and end the torment, but he doesn’t stop. No, he wants you to cry for it, plead for it, be so incredibly desperate for it that you’ll let him do as he pleases without question.

He wants to ruin you for anyone else, keep you so addicted to him that you won’t think of even looking at another. Just as addicted as he is to you.

Your limbs are vibrating, tingling and near numb as he forces you to roll your hips over his piercing persistently to catch it on your clit until you can’t see straight. You press your hands into his bulky abdominals, using his torso as leverage to keep you steady. A bit of precum dribbles out of his tip and down the shaft, into the hair trailing down his pubic bone to his cock.

He switches up the rhythm a few times to disrupt the constant repetitive pressure that is needed for you to climax so that you are whimpering in distress, practically begging him with incoherent sounds to stop teasing and just let you come already. It’s too much, he feels too good; you need to come after all this buildup.

“P-please, p-pleas-se,” you stammer.

Grabbing your chin, Simon forces your face pointed towards his. “Look at me,” he demands and you lock eyes as best you can through your shimmering vision. “Keep those pretty eyes on me. I want ya to show me how well ya suck it and maybe if ya fuckin’ do it right I'll put it in ya and not make ya wait till we get home.”

His efforts have worked like a charm so that you don’t even balk as you push yourself off of his lap and move onto the seat beside him, moving onto your side and lowering your head until your lips are near the tip of his cock. Looking up, you hold his gaze through your thick eyelashes as you grab the base with your hand and wrap your mouth around it, pulling in the tip with your tongue.

“Fuck sweetheart, that’s it,” he sighs, “show me how good ya suck it. But keep them pretty eyes on me.”

There is condensation gathering steadily on the inside glass of the car to fog the windows as you take him all in until you reach your hand, suctioning your lips around the shaft as the saltiness hits your taste buds before drawing your head back up. The veins that run the length of his cock are pulsing with his rapid heartbeat and they throb against your tongue as you come back down as far as you can. You repeat the same movement over and over again, breathing through your nose to help keep your throat from spasming.

Simon looks down at you, keeping up that eye contact as you choke, your mouth so full of him that you can’t breathe. You never let your gaze falter, no matter how hard he hits your gag reflex. He’s so big there isn’t enough space in that orifice to fit him all in, though you try. Small droplets stream down from the corners of your eyes to match the dribbles of saliva dripping from the corners of your mouth and he gently wipes some of them away with his thumb as his hand rests on your cheek. Even with everything working against you, you are still sucking on him with everything that you have and goddamn is he bewitched by the way you look gagging on his dick.

“Such a pretty mouth, baby,” he praises, making your stomach flip-flop excitedly.

The more you suck, the more his hips begin to rock until he is thrusting his cock smoothly into your lips, fucking your mouth so that you don’t need to bob your head anymore. He thrusts into your throat repeatedly and soon they become more desperate the more that familiar warmth gathers itself in his belly, threatening to tear through him without warning. It’s after a few more minutes of this that he abruptly stops you by shoving your shoulders back, pulling your lips off from around his cock.

There’s only one place he wants to come and that isn’t your mouth.

You are being lifted up like he owns you and moved back over his lap while his hand adjusts his cock between your thighs. He holds onto the base as he takes the crotch of your panties with his opposite hand and wrenches them to one side so they are out of his way. He aligns himself and the tip of him pokes against your entrance that is dripping and ready.

“I only want what’s best for ya, sweetheart. Wanna keep ya from all them bastards that won’t treat ya right. I know ya better than anyone, so you’re not gonna fuckin’ question how controllin’ I am movin’ forward, are ya?”

Agonizingly slow his cock breaks through the threshold of your pussy with a shared involuntary gasp. You mewl loudly, choking at how quickly it stretches you out and he’s barely even in at all. Simon stops at the edge of his hand so that the tip rests just inside that moist barrier. “Answer,” he pushes for you to respond to him.

You nod your head vigorously, unable to speak.

He grins devilishly through heavy breaths that make his broad chest rise and fall at a rapidly growing pace. “That’s right; you’re not. Good girl. Don’t worry, it won’t be all bad. Just let me handle things and I’ll give ya everything you could ever fuckin’ want; what’s mine is gonna be yours. And what’s yours tonight…is me.”

With that he slips in the rest of his cock as he pushes you down hard onto him, filling your tight cunt until he gets to the base and there is nothing he left he can give. You cry out as your back hits into the steering wheel, causing the horn to beep briefly before Simon pulls you against him.

You are so fucking warm, so soft and your body so pliable under his hard grip that is around your ass. “Mine, only mine,” he repeats the assertion with more desperation in his tone as the squeezing from the walls of your pussy around his rock hard cock makes him so delirious it’s as if he is losing his goddamn mind.

Grunting through those first few bits of movement, he wastes no time in making your body bob up and down on him. He lifts you up only to slam you back down harder and harder each time, shoving his cock as far up into you as possible. But it isn’t enough; he needs more. He craves to fuck you harder.

Holding your waist he leans you both back to change the angle of his hips so he can pound into you as he has you secured to his chest. The sloppy sounds of your overly wet cunt being penetrated roughly grow louder, keeping time with his growing desperation. There are no more thoughts left inside his head except one and that is to rut into you until he comes.

You moan as Simon’s cock rubs into that sensitive bundle of nerves within you time and again. How you’ve lasted this long is a miracle, but that is quickly coming to an end as your orgasm cannot be held off any longer. The warmth in your stomach has gathered to its peak and all you can do is whimper in short bursts to let him know that you are about to fall over the edge.

His pace is relentless as he pumps with those powerful thrusts that bury him deep with, unyielding as everything comes to a head and with a shudder your orgasm rockets through you fiery hot, making your body writhe in his grasp. God, it doesn’t stop, second after second it just keeps building stronger and stronger. Simon does not let up and soon you are whining from the over-stimulation.

Thrusting through your release he finally feels that chord that has been tensing in his core snap tight and he is spilling over the edge with howl, his hands crushing your hips until they are stinging from the pressure of his strength.

His face juts forward to yours so that he can capture your mouth, kissing you through the pain until he has rode out his orgasm and can let go of your body. Minutes lengthen so that time seems to slow down, but soon his pace eases until he comes to a stop.

“My good girl, my pretty thing,” he pants through the euphoria coursing through his veins. “Gotta get ya home. Wanna make sure your a complete fuckin’ mess until there isn’t a doubt in your mind that I’m the only one for you.”

[writergirlll]

Watching obx with Drew Starkey

okey. I wanted to write this for a long time, but I didn't have time, so here it is. in fact, it is completely plotless. it's just fluff so enjoy.

SUMMARY: imagine you're the girlfriend of famous actor Drew Starkey and he catches you watching Outer Banks commenting on Rafe Cameron's character because you miss Drew.

You've been dating Drew Starkey for quite some time now. You met on the set of the third season of Outer Banks, where you only played Kelce's girlfriend in one episode, but you fell in love despite that one day.

At first you just chatted, exchanged numbers, but soon you found out that Drew is very funny, so you invited him to the cafe. And soon after the first meeting, you made an official date and started dating.

You don't even remember when it all started. Maybe a year ago? Anyway, after half a year you found an apartment and moved in together. Everything was great because Drew didn't have much to do, neither did you because you hadn't been offered any part in a movie or TV show yet so you spent all your free time together.

But now that Outer Banks season 4 has started filming, Drew is almost 24/7 on set. You don't blame him because the obx cast is really great and he himself can't be blamed for how long the shoot is, but you miss him.

He gets up early in the morning when you are sleeping and comes when you are already asleep again, so you hardly see each other at all. And since it's been going on for about two and a half months now, you really miss her.

And today, is another day when you are home alone. You made some dinner and then popcorn with a drink. You arranged a blanket and pillows on the couch in front of the TV and grabbed the remote control.

You buried yourself in a blanket between the pillows, put a blanket on your lap and started playing the Outer Banks. Drew isn't home, so at least Rafe Cameron will be on TV..

The currently watched episode turned on where Singh kidnapped Kiara and Rafe appeared in the same house, with Singh locking them in the same room.

“Did you forget what you did?” Kie's voice came from the TV and you frowned.

"You shouldn't have told him that" you muttered and popped your popcorn into your mouth. You watched and listened intently as Rafe explained that he didn't want to kill Sheriff Peterkin and that it was for Ward. However, Kie didn't believe him.

"Rafe really isn't a bad person Kie" you muttered to the TV and continued to stuff yourself with popcorn. "Everything he did was for Ward and he just wants understanding" you frowned at the tv and covered yourself more with the blanket. It was warm outside, but it was cold inside the apartment.

,,So I want to be understood huh?'' came a voice from behind you and you flinched as you were startled. You quickly turned off the TV and turned around.

A smiling Drew was leaning against the door. "You startled me" you laughed and he walked over to you.

"Sorry, I didn't mean that. And sorry for being so late, we have a lot of filming. But the way I see it, you found yourself a replacement" he said, placing a kiss on your forehead and looking at the TV, where Rafe Cameron was stopped at a perfect angle.

"But you're better" you cooed and pulled his head down to yours as you kissed him.

Drew kissed back before pulling away and straightening up. "How about I change clothes and watch with you"? he asked you with a sweet smile.

You nodded quickly and he left to change. After a few minutes of waiting on the couch and admiring Rafe on TV, Drew finally showed up, changed with yet another blanket.

He sat down next to you on the couch, stretched out his legs and you rested your head on his lap. You both covered yourself with a blanket, he was stroking her hair, eating popcorn and admiring the acting of the Outer Banks cast.

[yxngbxkkie]

touchy (b.c)

hi, hi!! i know it's been a while since i've posted. i'm trying to pump out ideas, but my writing motivation has gone down a bit. but i saw a tik tok earlier and thought of this short idea 🫢 i absolutely need this man, and i hope you guys enjoy this 🩷

feedback is greatly appreciated 🥰

You can hear Chan watching Jujitsu Kaisen from the kitchen, a chuckle leaving your lips after hearing his gasps. You really love how immersed he gets when watching shows and movies. It's really cute.

“Chan, baby?” You call out to him, poking your head out towards the living area. “Can you grab the drinks?”

He pauses the show before sprinting up from the couch. He glides a hand across your lower back as you place an even amount of ramen into two bowls. Chan hums while standing behind you, inhaling the scent of the food.

“It smells so good, baby,” he whispers into your ear, gently squeezing your hip.

The tips of your ears begin to turn red as you feel slightly hot and bothered. You thank him quietly, and he moves away to grab a drink for both of you.

You grab the two bowls and bring them into the living room, setting them onto the coffee table. You lower yourself to the floor afterward, placing a pair of chopsticks into your bowl before setting another pair into Chan's.

“Thank you for the meal,” he sings while setting your drink in front of you.

He sits down beside you, his thigh brushing against yours. You glance up at him, smiling softly as Chan takes a sip of his water. His eyes find yours after, and the corner of his plump lips twitch into a smile.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Chan asks shyly, feeling a little embarrassed at your loving stare.

“I just love you,” you mention, leaning over to kiss his warm cheek. “And, you're so pretty.”

He giggles, dropping his gaze to the ramen in front of him. “Stop, you're prettier,” he mumbles, grasping his chopsticks.

Your heart skips a beat, and the two of you begin to eat. Chan resumes the episode, and the only sound that can be heard is the slurping of noodles.

Moments like this are your favorite. You would give anything to have more of them, but you realize how demanding Chan’s job can be. It doesn't take very long for both of you to finish, somehow timing it perfectly with the end of the episode.

You move to clean up when Chan stops you. “I got this, baby. Pick something to watch,” he assures you with a grin, handing you the remote.

“So sweet,” you sigh while shaking your head. He giggles and leans over to kiss your lips. The kiss lasts a few seconds, and you chase his lips after he pulls back.

“That's you, baby,” he says cheekily before grabbing the empty bowls.

You have to stop yourself from biting your knuckles. You've never been so in love with someone before, and you're glad that it's with him. A sigh leaves your lips, and you pull yourself up from the floor, laying across the gray couch.

You aimlessly scroll through Netflix, humming to yourself as you try to find something interesting to watch. The sound of Chan washing the dishes echo off the apartment walls.

“Channie?” You call out to him, looking at the horror movies. You hear him say your name before you start speaking again. “How much do you love me?”

The sound of the water running stops before his footsteps grow louder. “It depends on what you want,” he laughs, walking towards the couch. “But, very much, why?”

You look over your shoulder as he kneels on both sides of your legs. “Can we watch a horror movie?” You ask him, giving him your best puppy-eyed look.

“What?” He whines, turning to look at the television. His hands rest on the back of your thighs, and thumbs massage the muscle.

Even though you're wearing leggings, his touch excites you just a smidge. “Just one! I'll even let you cuddle me,” you wink at him, clicking on a movie that sounds good.

“You're so lucky I love you,” Chan groans before agreeing.

You giggle in excitement and press play, setting the remote onto the table. Chan gets up from the couch, tapping your legs to move them. You lift your legs up, allowing the brunette to sit before resting your legs across his lap.

As the movie starts, you realize it's not too scary. Which you're sure Chan is thankful for. You've tried to focus on the plot for almost five minutes, getting distracted by your boyfriend running his hands along your legs.

You tuck your bottom lip between your teeth, feeling the butterflies in your stomach. Chan's hand moves to your ass cheek, gently squeezing it like a stress ball. You let out an involuntarily hum, biting your lip harder.

“You okay, baby?” Chan asks, his hand moving back to your thigh.

“I'm okay,” you whisper, not trusting your voice. You rest your head on your arms, your fingers squeezing your forearm.

You can feel his eyes on you as his hand strokes the back of your thigh. “Are you sure?” He asks again, a smirk etching on his lips.

You lift your upper half and turn to look back at him. “Perfectly fine,” you reassure him while his hand travels back to your ass. Your breath hitches at the feeling of his hands, and Chan giggles.

“Mm, okay,” he says and turns his gaze back to the movie.

Your eyes remain on him as his massaging continues. You internally curse and move your body. Chan's hands drop onto the couch, and his eyes follow your figure as you stand up. You straddle his lap, resting your hands on top of his shoulders.

“Do you have any idea what your hands do to me?” You whisper to him, closing the distance between your faces.

Chan smirks at you and gently presses a kiss on your lips. “I have an idea,” he mentions after pulling away, resting his head on the back of the couch.

He moves his hands up your sides, dipping his fingers beneath his shirt you're wearing. You wet your lips while combing your fingers through his curly hair. You lean forward to capture his lips in another kiss, needing to feel him close to you.

The massaging of your body continues, one of his hands slipping underneath your leggings. “You wanna take this to the bedroom?” He asks, gliding his plump lips along your neck.

You nod your head without hesitation, a staggering breath escaping your lips. Chan sucks on your soft skin, leaving a couple of marks. “Please,” you end up begging, tugging his hair to reconnect your lips.

Chan hums and removes his hands from your body. He grabs the remote from the table and turns the television off. After setting the remote back down, his arms wrap around your thighs before lifting you off the couch.

“I'm pretty glad I have tomorrow off,” he says as he carries you into the bedroom. Chan gently sets you down on the bed before slowly turning you over. Your eyes flutter shut as his hands glide up the back of your legs. “I can spend all night appreciating your body.”

~

tagging: @strawboorybunny @reddesert-healourblues @spacegirlstuff @moon0fthenight @foxinnie8 @like-a-diamondinthesky @prettymiye0n

[shootingstar-scuderia]

🦋

LANDO + TINY HANDS READER / BIG HANDS LANDO PLEASE 😭😭😭

thanks for requesting anon!! i'm really sorry because looking back at the req i've realized i didn't actually write that much about their size difference 😭😭 i just kind of got a plot and ran with it

masterlist

It starts with kisses to the backs of your fingers, just something small like that. Because that’s the way it always is with Lando. Give an inch and eventually he’ll take a mile. 

It’s a late Friday night, a rare weekend where Lando is really and truly off, and the two of your are watching TV. Or, you are at least.

Lando’s been fiddling around for the better part of the episode, seemingly unable to settle down. First looking for his phone, then leaving to get a snack and a blanket, and then getting comfy on the other side of the couch before deciding that he would much rather be sat next to you.

Finally, he presses his body up against yours, chin resting on your shoulder and it feels like the perfect night in. The lights dimmed low, the TV playing your favorite show, and your boyfriend cuddled up into your side.

That is until Lando nuzzles his face into your neck with far too much vigor for him to actually be trying to be romantic, but with more than enough vigor for him to be trying to be obnoxious.

“What is it?”

“Nothing,” he mumbles, keeping his face pressed up against the crook of your neck.

“Lan,” you warn.

He huffs and then flops back onto the couch pulling out his phone. You turn your attention back to the TV and hope that whatever he finds on his phone is interesting enough to keep him occupied for a little bit.

You don’t even get a minute.

Lando shifts himself so he can curl his body around you and he’s warm and large snuggled up against you that you really can’t help but let your attention drift towards him. 

“Baby,” he says, voice low and soft in your ear.

He trails his fingers up and down your arm, the pads of his them leaving goose bumps on your skin, before lacing his fingers with yours. His hand is big and warm in yours and you can’t help but settle into him, cupping his face in your hands and enjoying the way he’s draped himself around you.

It’s nice. 

It’s nice and it doesn’t last long because before you know it you feel Lando start to fidget, his restlessness growing. You feel him take your hand in his and tug gently on your fingers to try and bring your attention back to him. 

“Lando.”

He shushes you gently bringing your hand up to his lips and presses a kiss to the backs of your fingers. “God you’re pretty,” he whispers.

You duck your head bashfully as prickling heat works itself from the back of your neck to your cheeks, “should be saying that to you.”

Lando just presses another kiss to the back of your hand, and you feel a slow smile fighting its way through the purse of his lips. You look at him and his eyes meet yours, making you feel like some kind of young debutante, coyly looking at her suitor from under lashes.

He turns your hand to press a kiss to the center of your palm, taking a moment to nose against the skin there. 

Lando lips move to your wrist next, pressing butterfly kisses to your pulse point. The kiss itself is so chaste but, he meets your gaze again and the sight of him looking at you, eyes dark, is more than enough to make you shift in your seat.

He presses another kiss to your wrist and before moving your hand back to cup his face and press his cheek into your palm. The movement makes his stubble brush against the thin skin of your wrist and you shiver pleasantly letting out a soft sigh. 

It’s a noise Lando matches with one of his own, high and reedy in his throat. Self satisfied because he knows he’s got you right where he wants.

He tugs again, your arm this time, and you let him pull you on top of his, your body coming to bracket his. “Come on,” he says, let's turn this off. You’re not even watching at this point.”

And as Lando hauls you onto his lap, one hand firmly on your waist as the other fishes for the remote, you think yeah, give him an inch and he’ll take a mile. 

But, it’s okay, in the end he'll always give more than he takes.

[lurkingshan]

Knock Knock Boys: The Unexpected Delight of the Summer Season

Who would have thought that this little under appreciated pulp would come in and steal the Thai BL summer season with so many bigger, shinier, more expensive shows on air? Not me! But here we are, and Knock Knock Boys is going down as one of my unexpected favorites of 2024.

I liked this show from the start, with its premise of four men, each dealing with various Life Situations, coming to live together in a shared home and developing natural friendships and romantic attachments. Each episode begins with a cold open that puts us squarely in the middle of their latest shenanigan and then we jump back to work our way there over the course of the episode. The writing is clever, the directing and editing is zippy and fun, and the whole thing is founded on queer and sex positive themes. I expected it to be a sexy, comedic romp with a sprinkle of mystery as we learned more each week about what these boys were running from.

And it is that, sometimes. But it is also a surprisingly touching story of queer friendship and finding yourself and your tribe and building courage to live an authentic life with the support of your loved ones. It's a story about making the effort to understand and giving each other space to figure ourselves out. It's a story about the importance of communication and giving others a chance to come through for you. It’s a story about how true friendship and patience and empathy can empower someone to change their life.

And it's also a touching romance, times two. Latte and Almond were the favorites all the way through for most of us watching, and seeing them go from friends to something more to proper boyfriends was so lovely. What I loved most about their arc together is how gently it advanced; despite Latte starting the show as our resident sexually experienced pansexual, he was also clear that sex and relationships are meaningful to him, and we saw that in how he pursued Almond with utmost patience. Almond was completely inexperienced and fixated on another guy when they met, and Latte was his genuine friend in helping him sort through his feelings and move on from Jumper before he was a prospective love interest. When Almond became more aware of the attraction between them and they began dating, it all felt natural, as did the progression of their physical intimacy. They are precious and their relationship has such a strong foundation that it's easy to believe they'll stay together long term.

Perhaps most surprising to me is how much I ended up loving the Peak and Thanwa romance, as well. Peak's journey, and the way it ultimately landed, is what sent this show into the stratosphere, and it's where that theme about patience that I mentioned above comes through most strongly. For much of their story, Peak and Thanwa were caught in a frustrating cycle of constantly misunderstanding each other, and it was mostly down to Peak's failure to communicate about his family situation and the way it was restricting him. These two kept missing beats, refusing to talk, and hurting each other because they just couldn't get it together to clear the air, and that can be hard to watch episode to episode. But once we have the full picture, Peak's behavior becomes understandable, both to Thanwa and to us, and we can only join his friends in rooting for him and giving him strength to be brave. And he was, in one of the most satisfying and heartwarming scenes I've seen in bl this year.

I just can't recommend this show highly enough, and I've kept things somewhat vague above because I hope more of you will watch it now that it's over and available for a binge. This show is not perfect, but it's so heartfelt and you will be rewarded in the end. You can find the show on Gaga and the small but mighty crew of us regular viewers screaming about it every week in the tag. You don't want to miss it!

[sugawhaaa]

MINHO ONESHOT

°•☆last night☆•°

Pairing:minho x fem!reader

Genre: a huge mix of smut and fluff at the same time

A/N:I started this so long ago 😭 I promise I am making fanfics but I've been so busy. Christmas can get kinda stressful sometimes 🧍

You shot your eyes open as you realized you weren't in your bed. You felt different blankets and no clothes. When you opened your eyes every memory of last night just flooded back.

Minho invited you over for the night and after having dinner and watching a few episodes of a new show you've both started Minho had some other plans.

《Flashback》

You were curled up in Minho's arms as the laptop on your lap played the outro music to the first season of the show. Minho smiled at you before slowly closing the top of his laptop down. You looked at him slightly confused. He set the laptop on his desk and he turned back to you. He ran his hands up your arms and to your hands. He pinned you down by your hands and he moved to hover above you.

He leaned down and kissed you softly.

"Did you miss me?" You giggled and Minho frowned. He licked up your neck to the tip of your ear, his hot breath present the entire time.

《Flash forward》

You groaned before rolling over to see Minho curled up in his white blankets. When you rolled over you felt a pain in your hip, you looked beneath the blankets to see bruises on your hips. You sighed and laid back down on your back. You hauled yourself out of bed and put on some clothes you brought with you as spares. Low-waisted pajama shorts and a cropped shirt...

With this terrible outfit, everyone was going to see all the bruises and marks on your body from Lee know and his fangs last night and there is no doubt that you'd be made fun of for it. That's when you noticed a nice white shirt that belonged to Minho. You put it on over your little tank top and all the marks were covered. For the most part.

You stretched and went out into the kitchen to get breakfast ready. You searched through the cupboards of the kitchen to find peanut butter and bread. You put two pieces of bread into the toaster and went to the fridge to find something to drink with all of this. There was a pack of smoothies so you grabbed one out of the fridge and shook it. You got a plate and set it by the toaster and waited. A shirtless Chan came over to you while rubbing his eye.

"When did you get up?" He asked before sipping some coffee. You looked up at the clock.

"Like 10 minutes ago at most," you chuckled. Chan bottomed up his coffee and smiled at you with his bare face.

"Sounds about right," he set his mug down in the sink before putting some warm water into it. "You and Minho were loud last night," he said out of nowhere. You choked on your smoothie before coughing.

"O-Oh right, sorry about that," you blushed awkwardly and Chan patted you on the back.

"Don't worry I know how Minho gets with you," he smiled, flexing his dimples. His comment made you blush harder.

"H-How so?" You said before your toast popped. You used it as an excuse to avoid eye contact with Chan. Chan leaned against the counter.

"I dunno, he just gets all riled up and he can't stop thinking about you. Then when he gets his hands on you he just loses his shit," he laughed as he went through memories. You then heard another door open in the dorms and it was Han. His hair was in a big poof and he seemed to still be tired.

"What are we talking about?" He said in his morning voice.

"Minho," Chan replied and when you turned back to your toast you found Minho looking at you.

"Ah, Jesus!" You yelled. He didn't have a shirt on but he had some sweatpants on with his hair messily tied back. He pulled out your phone from his pocket and a video played.

"I accidentally used your phone by mistake last night," he said as he pointed to a video of you giving him a blow job last night. You grabbed his phone and blushed.

"Minho!" You yelled, "Why would you play that in front of everyone?" you panicked and turned off your phone.

"No one was looking," he shrugged before turning to the fridge and getting a smoothie. He shook it before opening it and chugging it.

"You have some scratches on your back," Han pointed out. Minho turned to look at his back.

"Really? I didn't really look this morning," he put his hand on his back to feel the marks. You blushed and went over to him.

"Does it hurt?" You asked softly.

"Nah, it's okay," he shrugged. You sighed and took a bite of your toast. Minho did the same.

"Hey, when did you snatch my toast!?" You frowned at him, he just laughed.

[mrsbarnesblog]

the reader has been begging rafe to watch vampire diaries with her because its her favourite show but its always been a firm no. rafe did something ( it can be anything ) and it upset the reader a bit and rafe asks the reader how he can make it up to her and she asks for girl night with rafe. face masks , making tiktoks , listening to music and of course watching vampire diaries

Vampire Diaries

Word count: 0.8k

Warnings: none

A/N: thank you for the request <3 Rafe would've definitely pretended to be annoyed but secretly enjoyed it lol

“I'm sorry, baby, okay? I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that.” Rafe kneeled in front of you, as you were currently sitting on the couch, endlessly scrolling tiktok and paying literally no attention to your boyfriend. 

You two just had a small argument, and with Rafe’s short temper, it quickly went downhill. Even though there was nothing too serious and you knew that Rafe didn’t want to upset you, it still hurt you a little bit, so you wanted to teach him a lesson. 

“Please? Look at me, pretty girl. I’m really sorry.” He rubbed his hands up and down your thighs, leaving a few soft kisses. “How can I make it up to you, huh? Do you want to go shopping? Spend all of my money? Go on a date to your favorite place? Kick me? Just tell me and I’ll give it to you.” 

You were trying so hard to keep back a smile forming on your lips. Because who would’ve thought that Rafe, the big, scary and moody guy, would beg for your forgiveness, literally standing on his knees? You finally put your phone down, looking at your boyfriend and studying him for a few seconds. 

“Have a girls night with me.” You smirked, seeing how his brows slowly furrowed. 

“Excuse me?” 

“Girls night. Masks, snacks, music and vampire diaries are included.” His eyelids lowered, looking at you suspiciously. 

“Were you planning on pulling me into that shit? ‘Cuz I ain’t doin’ that. Told that a million times already, babe.” 

You just rolled your eyes, going back to your phone and acting like you didn't notice the way Rafe was burning holes into you with his stare.

“Are you really gonna ignore me again? I said, I’m sorry.” 

“And you also said that you'd do anything that I asked for. That’s what I’m asking for. Just one night, Rafe. No one’s going to see you being soft and cute except for me, you grumpy ass.” You held eye contact for a few seconds, already seeing how Rafe was hesitating between giving in and continuing to act like a child.

“Fine. But only one time, got it? And you can’t tell anyone about it.”

***

“Did you just take a photo?” Rafe’s head snapped towards you and you innocently bit your lip, locking your phone and putting it away. 

“Maybe… But you look really cute, just wanted to have it for myself.” You smiled at him, moving closer on your bed and fixing a few strands of hair that fell out of Rafe’s white bunny headband. He did look cute, laying and watching your favorite series only in his gray sweats, with no shirt, and most importantly, with a Hello Kitty sheet mask on his face. 

Before that, you had already cleaned and exfoliated Rafe’s face while sitting on top of him, which was the only reason why he didn’t complain every second, and then you brought all the possible snacks from the kitchen and took your favorite masks with you. It took quite some time to convince him to put it on, but a few kisses worked just perfectly. 

As the twenty minutes on your timer went off, you took both of your masks off with Rafe mumbling “finally” under his breath, and with another bag of chips, you snuggled into your boyfriend’s side. “Vampire Diaries” that you convinced him to turn on were currently only on the third episode, and you looked up from Rafe’s shoulder, noticing that he was actually looking at the screen. 

“I told you that it’s good.” You giggled, shoving chips into your mouth and then giving a few to Rafe. His hand wrapped tighter around your body, bringing you even closer. 

“It’s not.” 

“Then why are you watching it?” You arched your brow when he looked down at you.

“Because you told me too. You know that I hate this type of stuff, right, babe? This girl shit is not for me.” 

“Whatever you say, Rafey.” Your hand stroked his bunny ears, which were still holding his hair, then cupped his face to place a kiss on the lips. You knew that Rafe was just being stubborn and that he actually was enjoying your evening together; it was obvious by the way his body was in the most relaxed state possible, there was no usual annoyance, and he had that look in his eyes. The one that you always saw whenever you two were alone, when you were wrapped up in each other’s arms, when you made him happy and safe. “Thank you for this. It means a lot to me.” 

“ Anything for you, baby.” Rafe softened, lips curling in a lazy smile, as he caught your lips in another kiss. “Now watch your goddamn show, or I’m gona turn it off.” Rafe pulled away, playfully rolling his eyes at you, yet still looking back at the screen, now also too hooked on to miss any second. 

[babyyblues]

just some short and sweet pregnant!reader x daryl dixon (about 900 words)

please feel free to leave me feedback and show your support by reblogging!

warnings: pregnancy, mention of Lori, super sweet soft daryl and protective daryl

era: prison (season 3 episode 4 spoilers!!!!) (set specifically after woodbury joins the prison.)

-

After watching Carl and Rick grieve after the loss of Lori when she gave birth to the youngest Grimes, you and Daryl swore you would be more careful when participating in intimate activities. It hadn’t ever been an issue with you two, and a baby was something you’d thought you never have to worry about. But as they say, one thing led to another, and here you are three months out from your last period, and two undoubtedly expired, yet strongly positive pregnancy tests tucked inside of Daryl’s pillowcase. 

You and Daryl were anxious of course, yet elated at the thought of not only another little one running around the prison, but for them to be yours. Nights upon nights you and Daryl have stayed up far too long discussing baby names, having playful debates over whether it’ll be a boy or a girl, and secret words of love and admiration that fell through the two of your lips. You hadn’t yet told anyone, wanting it to be for just you and come out when you were ready, unlike the choice Lori had, but you had a feeling that your group had started to figure you out. 

Maybe it was the way Daryl would give you his portion of dinner which led into a quiet argument about who needed it more. “Y’re eatin for two.” “And you need energy to keep the two of us safe.” Carol began giving you a bit more than everyone else, and that’s when you were sure she knew. 

Or it could of been the way he was overly protective of you anytime Rick wanted you to go on a run or do anything for that matter. “Y/n will you go-” “Go where? I’ll do it.” “Daryl I’ve got it, I’ll be okay.” “No. Ya ain’t goin’. That’s final.” Rick instead began asking you to tend to the garden, so he might have had a suspicion as well. 

It could have also been the way Daryl’s eyes watched you as you helped with Judith, the overwhelming love and longing in his eyes as you cradled the baby and sang to her softly as Beth watched from the sidelines. “You’re droolin more than the baby Daryl.” “Shut up.” Yeah, Beth definitely had an idea. 

“I think we’re gonna have to tell everyone soon,” you told Daryl, as you slipped your night shirt over your head, turning back around to see his eyes already on you. 

“If you’re ready,” he agreed. 

“When you look at me like that, the whole world knows,” you said, making your way toward him to wrap your arms around his neck. His hands instinctively found your waist, looking down toward your stomach. 

“Can’t help it, you’ve got a little bump too,” he breathed, a smile spreading on his lips. You smiled back, bringing your lips to his before flicking off the lamp and leading him to your makeshift mattress on the floor.

Soft whispers floated in the air, Daryl’s hand resting gently on your stomach, your hand lost in the growing locks that sat at the base of his neck. Your eyes closed as you took a deep breath, reveling in the smell of him that surrounded you.

“Ya alright?” Daryl questioned, his fingers that had found there way under your shirt rubbing small unidentifyable shapes over the tiny bump on your stomach. You nodded, blinking slowly before looking up at his concerned gaze, a sleepy smirk on your lips. 

“More than,” you muttered, scooting over on the mattress so you were impossibly close to him. Digging your head into his chest, he let out a breathy chuckle as he repositioned his arms around you and the leg you had throw over his body, before placing a sweet kiss to your head. He felt the vibrations of your voice against his chest as you spoke but he rolled his eyes as he didn’t catch a single word you were saying. 

“Ya know I can’t hear ya when you do this,” he teased, moving back slightly so your face was exposed. He didn’t miss the whine that left your lips as your contact separated and you looked up at him with a pout.

“Whatcha poutin’ for girl?” he asked, placing his hand on the side of your face. 

“Was jus’ telling you I love you, didn’t mean I wanted you to go away.” 

“ ‘M still right here sunshine, now come on, ya need sleep.” Before you could disagree, a yawn ripped from your throat, a light chuckle following from both you and the man in front of you. You nodded, pushing yourself up from the mattress to reach his lips and kiss him tenderly. 

“Goodnight Dar,” you smiled before rubbing your tummy, “goodnight little guy.”

“Gonna be a girl,” he grumbled. 

“Keep dreamin’ Dixon, ‘s mother’s intuition. We can always have another.” Daryl laughed again a light shake of his head. 

“Let’s get through this one first, goodnight girls. Love ya both.” You rolled your eyes, kissing him once more before laying back down instantly falling asleep in the comfort of his arms.