#and it ends with him on the floor of the shower

[godsfavdarling]

waiting for the day to end

my masterlist

pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader summary: You and Spencer come back to his apartment, and your boyfriend’s drunken state brings old wounds to the surface. words: 2,3k warnings: angst, panic attack, drunk Spencer, mentions reader's ex-bf who was an alcoholic, no y/n a/n: I'm imagining later seasons Spence but I am not gonna yuck anybody's yam!

You smoothly place the keys in the lock of his apartment and quickly turn them twice to unlock the door. The dark room abruptly brightens when you flick the light switch on.

Spencer, who has been leaning against the wall near you, stumbles into the room right behind you.

The door slams shut behind him, the thud reverberating through the room.

You flinch, spinning around at the jarring sound.

“Sorry,” Spencer mumbles, a bit unsteady.

He throws himself onto the armchair with a heavy sigh, his head lolling back as he closes his eyes.

You murmur under your breath, “I’ll get you some water,” and head toward the kitchen, your heels clacking against the floor. 

In the quiet, you take a few deep breaths to steady yourself before filling two glasses of water. 

When you bring them back, you hand one to Spencer, urging him to drink. He gulps it down immediately, nearly draining the glass in one go.

You’ve never really seen him like this.

Spencer rarely—almost never—drinks. But tonight, it’s obvious just how far gone he is. He’s coherent enough to hold himself up, and his words still make sense, but you can tell he isn’t fully present. 

He was already fading hours ago, just an hour into dinner at Rossi's when his team had convinced him to relax and celebrate Garcia’s birthday with a few drinks.

Now, he’s staring off into space, eyes glassy, a faint smile still lingering from whatever joke had last drifted through his mind. You swallow, feeling the anxiety tug at you.

You felt it early on. But you tried to ignore it.

Spencer was different. 

He was responsible and careful. He liked being sober and in control. He was someone who avoided excess.

He was not a drunk. 

You knew all this and tried to stay rational. 

After his third drink, though, all that rationality flew out the window. With the last gulp of his third drink, you decided to excuse yourself, claiming you weren't feeling well, and spent most of the evening outside. The poker game was so intense that no one really questioned you or bothered to check on you.

You had thought, knowing Spencer’s sharp observation skills, that he would come find you shortly and ask what was wrong. He always did. He could always tell when something was off and always wanted to know. But tonight, he didn’t.

You waited, each minute stretching longer than the last, hoping he’d realize and come find you, that he’d be his usual self. But as the laughter and clinking glasses carried on from inside, you realized he was somewhere you couldn’t reach him tonight.

As you watched him now, slouched in the armchair with you far away from him sitting on the edge of the couch, your heart ached. 

This wasn’t the Spencer you knew. He was lost in his thoughts, barely acknowledging your presence. You handed him your glass of water, and he took it with a mumbled "thanks", sipping it more slowly this time.

“Spencer, are you okay?” you finally asked, unable to keep the concern out of your voice.

He looked up at you, his eyes a bit clearer but still distant. “Yeah, just... tired,” he replied, his voice heavy with exhaustion.

You nodded, but the anxiety still sat inside you.

Stop!

Spencer is not him! 

He is nothing like him!

You keep staring at him, fidgeting with your fingers and the hem of your black velvet dress, feeling helpless as you try to guess what he wants. 

Is he going to stay here for a while? Does he need more water? Is he going to shower, or maybe just head to bed?

Finally, Spencer glances up, his gaze focusing on you as if for the first time tonight. His brows knit together as he notices the anxious look in your eyes. 

"What’s wrong?" he asks, his voice soft but tinged with confusion.

You swallow, feeling a rush of emotions you’ve been holding back all evening. He’s looking at you now, really looking, like he usually does, but something about his unsteady, drunken state makes you hesitate. 

He’s here, yet somehow not fully here, and you’re not sure how to answer.

You force a smile, shrugging as if it’s nothing, but your heart pounds. "Just… tired, I guess."

Spencer’s gaze doesn’t waver, and you know he sees through your answer, even in his state. 

Now he sees. 

He’s silent, watching you with a slight frown like he’s trying to piece together a puzzle. The quiet stretches between you, heavy and thick.

You glance away, twisting the hem of your dress tighter. 

"Maybe you should get some rest," you say, your voice barely more than a whisper. You try to keep the tremor out, but it’s there. A lot of it.

He’s never seen you like this—not this vulnerable, this close to tears. You’ve not been dating that long. A lot of things are still unknown, unsaid, unshared and the toxic, drunk but highly functioning, unpredictable boyfriends have not yet come out in any conversation.

"I’ll be fine," Spencer mutters, rubbing his face with one hand as he sinks further into the chair.

His words are gentle, but they’re not the reassurance you’re aching for. 

You wish he’d tell you he’d never do this again, that he understands why this is hard for you. But he doesn’t. He just looks at you, distant and hazy.

A lump forms in your throat as the silence presses down on you. You stand up, needing some distance, and force a tight smile. "I’ll let you get some sleep. I’ll go… take a walk or something."

As you turn to leave, Spencer reaches out, his fingers brushing your arm. "Hey," he murmurs, his voice soft but unsteady. "It’s like 2 AM. You’re not going anywhere alone."

You stop, frozen, a tightness forming in your chest. You want to say it’s fine, that you just need space, but the words feel like they’re stuck in your throat. Instead, he continues, unaware of how badly his presence is affecting you right now.

“Let’s take a walk together. It’ll help,” he offers, his voice tinged with concern, though still a little slurred.

You turn sharply, frustration and something darker bubbling up in your chest. “No!” you snap, louder than you intended, the word echoing in the quiet room. You instantly regret it, but the hurt is too raw, too overwhelming. You try to swallow the sudden surge of emotion, but it’s too much.

You finally realize that his hand in on your arm, and the realization hits like a cold wave. You feel an intense rush of discomfort. You don’t want him near you right now. 

The feeling of his fingers on your skin, even though they’re meant to comfort, feels wrong.

You can’t breathe. You can’t handle his touch, not like this, not after everything that’s happened. You jerk away, backing up, your heart hammering.

Without a word, you turn and storm toward the bathroom. You lock the door behind you and lean against it for a second, trying to steady your breath. 

The walls feel like they’re closing in, the anger and fear swirling inside you until you can hardly tell the difference between the two.

It’s not his fault, you think, taking a deep breath, trying to calm the storm inside your chest.

He’s just drunk, he’ll be sober soon, but... why does it still feel so wrong?

You press your hands to your face, feeling the tears already starting to form.

I’m not that person anymore. I’m not going to let this take me back. I can’t let it.

Your thoughts race, but you force yourself to focus, turning the shower on. The sound of the water helps. 

You quickly but clumsily step out of the dress and underwear, leaving them in a heap on the tiles. 

You step under the hot spray, closing your eyes, letting the warmth soothe the tension in your muscles.

Just wash it off, just wash it off, you tell yourself as if the water could cleanse more than just your skin.

You’re lost in the sensation of the water for long minutes when there’s a gentle knock on the bathroom door. 

You freeze. Your heart skipping a beat.

“Hey… uh… I really need to pee,” Spencer calls out, his voice even softer than before.

You swallow, fighting the panic rising in your throat, and quickly shut off the water. You wrap a towel around your body and open the door just enough for you to slip past him. Without a word, you go into the bedroom and gracelessly put on one of the shirts you left in his drawer.

Tomorrow. Tomorrow everything will be fine, you think, climbing into bed, curling up under the covers. 

You just want this day to end. You need it to end.

Then it hits you—you’re in his bed.

You stand up and then sit again on the edge.

You should go home. You should be in your own bed. You want to get up, gather your things, get dressed, and leave, but you're paralyzed. You're overwhelmed. You can’t breathe. You can’t move.

Then Spencer walks into the room, his gaze landing on you. As if he can read the turmoil in your mind, he says softly, "It's late. Stay here tonight. Take the bed. I’ll take the couch."

You don’t say anything, unable to find the words.

He pauses, watching you for a moment, before quietly pulling his pajamas from the closet and heading into the bathroom.

You just need to sleep. You’ll sleep it off, and when you wake up, things will make sense again. Maybe Spencer will apologize. 

Apologize for what?

He didn’t do anything wrong.

He’ll be sober. Everything will go back to normal.

But sleep doesn’t come. The bed feels cold, and the silence in the room is suffocating. You can’t shake the thoughts in your head.

What if he doesn’t remember?

What if he won’t leave it and you’ll have to explain and he’ll be angry?

Why are you angry?

Why are you upset?

Just as you're about to give up on sleep altogether, you hear the soft creak of the door opening. Spencer slips into the room quietly, his footsteps hesitant. He walks to the bed, sitting down beside you without saying anything at first.

"Are you asleep?" he asks quietly, his voice gentle, almost too careful. You feel his gaze on you, even though you’re facing the window, your back to him.

You don’t answer at first. You don’t want to talk to him right now. You don’t want to explain why everything feels broken. You don’t want him to ask.

But you can feel him there, his presence. 

Finally, he speaks again, his voice low but steady. “Please... can we talk? I don't wanna go to bed with you upset and angry.”

You don’t move, staring into the dark. You wish you could say the right thing. You wish you could fix it, but all you feel is a dull ache in your chest, and the thought that maybe nothing will ever be the same again.

Spencer’s hand reaches out, his fingers trembling slightly as he hesitates for a moment before gently moving toward you. "Hey, I—" His voice cracks, and you can hear the sorrow in it, the regret, the helplessness.

But as his arms come closer, something inside you recoils. You can’t have him near you right now. Not like this. Not when everything feels so wrong.

You flinch, turning away from him instinctively, the words coming out before you even have a chance to stop them. “Please don’t touch me.”

The words hang between you like a heavyweight. 

Spencer freezes, his hand hovering in mid-air, and for a second, everything is still. You can hear his breathing — shallow, uneven — as if he’s trying to understand, trying to process what just happened.

You don’t want him to feel hurt, but you can’t help it. You feel exposed, vulnerable, like a raw nerve, and his touch, even if it's meant to comfort, feels suffocating.

“Okay,” Spencer finally says, his voice small, resigned. He pulls his hand back slowly, as though giving you space to breathe. 

You don’t look at him. You can’t. 

“I’m sorry,” he adds, his voice distant now, like he’s trying to find his footing again. “I just... I’m not sure what happened. I know hurt you. I don’t know how but I’m sorry.”

The silence lingers, thick and uncomfortable, wrapping itself around both of you. Spencer hesitates for a long moment, unsure of what to do or say next. You can feel his eyes on you, but you don’t lift yours. 

Finally, he clears his throat softly.

“I’ll... I’ll sleep on the couch tonight,” he says, his voice gentle and careful like he’s trying not to disturb the fragile air between you.

“It’s okay. If you want to talk... or anything... just come and tell me. I’ll be here.”

You don’t say anything. You still don’t look at him. But you can hear the sincerity in his voice, the aching honesty of it.

If only his words, his willingness to be there even when you’ve pushed him away could make things better.

But you don’t answer him, because you don’t have the strength to. You don’t know what to say.

Spencer sighs quietly, almost like a final surrender, and then you hear his footsteps moving away from you.

The door opens and closes softly behind him, and you’re left alone in the silence of the room once more.

Spencer’s words echo in your mind, but they don’t bring comfort. Not yet. 

[noxiwrites]

Looking out for you

Summary; Rafe has the best intentions, despite not acting on them in the best way.

Warnings; mentions of sa, use of drugs (weed), angst, arguments, stalking, obsession, Rafe being nice, soft sweet sex with Rafe, fem oral, multiple orgasms.

You’re sat on your bed scrolling through Instagram when your door crashes open, a blinding mess of dirty blonde hair flying into your room.

You know immediately that it’s your brother, as he’s the only one who would fly into your room with no invitation- and your parents were away in Rome for the summer, leaving you and Topper to fend for yourselves.

Topper takes a seat on the edge of your bed, chest heaving like he’s just ran a marathon, cheeks flushed.

You perk an eyebrow, locking your phone and looking over at him. “What do you want Top?”

He raises a finger at you, other hand clasping his chest.

“Cmon Topper, I don’t have all day.”

He gulps, nodding his head before trying to talk.

“So I was at a party with Rafe and I stepped away for one second to answer Rhi’s phone call and when I came back he was fighting with JJ Maybank,” he pauses, swallowing. You sigh, not sure what this has to do with you, until he continues.

“I only overheard the end of the conversation but to sum it up they made a bet, about you. Who could sleep with you first- and I know that’s fucked but you’re my sister and I had to let you know so now you-”

“Wait, what? Fucking what?” You ask, incredulous. He nods his head, sharing the same confused face you’re sure you have.

“I don’t have anymore details, but now you know if either of them try anything.” He looks at you, finally able to breathe properly. “Don’t let them try anything, okay? Rafe is my best friend but he’s not a good guy.”

Your mind is racing with thoughts- JJ Maybank, a name that sounded familiar, but left a small distaste on your tongue. You couldn’t put on where you’d heard it from. And Rafe- Rafe fucking Cameron, your brothers best friend who you were absolutely sure hated you.

“Topper, what the fuck?” Is all you manage, and he nods his head again. “I know, I know it’s fucked and that fucking pogue better stay away otherwise I’ll beat his ass.”

You immediately connect the dots.

“What, as in thee pogue JJ? Sarah Cameron’s pogue friend?”

“Yep.”

When you were friends with Sarah, before she went off to be with those pogues, she had introduced you to them and you could remember one of them acting really weird around you. The more you thought, the more his name sounded familiar. It was the creepy one.

Your mind is racing and you groan, head falling back onto your head board. Men.

“Okay, thank you for letting me know Top. You can leave now.” He looks shocked for a second, before nodding, standing, and leaving your room, shutting the door behind him.

-

The next morning when you wake, and check your phone, you see a text message from your friend, Maddison. She’s invited you to a little shopping spree on the boardwalk, and who are you to say no?

You could do with some shopping.

It’s when you’re getting out of the shower and wrapping your towel around your body that you hear something clink in your room. You know your brother is out on his boat, as he is every Saturday- so who the fuck is in your room?

You grab your hairbrush off your sink, hoping it will suffice enough as a weapon and slowly open your bathroom door.

The person is stood at the other side of your room, back facing away from you as they look out the window.

It doesn’t take you even two seconds to throw the brush at them, it landing square in their back with a large thump, before falling to the floor.

“Get the fuck out! I’ve got more where that came from!” You tell, only hearing a chuckle in response. You recognise it from somewhere, but don’t put the voice to the face until they turn around.

Rafe Cameron.

“No because what the fuck are you doing in my room you freak?” You shout, gripping the edge of your towel tighter. He doesn’t move, almost drinking you in while in the towel and you suddenly feel more naked than ever.

You remember what your brother told you last night.

“Hey doll, lovely way to ask me how I am,” he chuckles again, fingers brushing against your bed as he looks up at you.

“No, I will not ask you how you are when you’re in my room without me allowing you to be,” you scoff. “So get the fuck out. Topper is on his boat if you need him.”

He smirks at you, moving around the edge of your bed.

“I’m not here for him, sweetheart. I’m here for you.” He moves closer to you and you take a few steps back into your bathroom.

“Look, I know about your stupid little bet with that creepy pogue. I want nothing to do with either of you so leave.” You tell him, voice faltering as he steps close enough to touch you.

Yes, Rafe Cameron was incredibly attractive. Beyond attractive. But that did not change the fact that you thought he was an absolute psychopath, him being in your room all the proof you needed.

“I’m not going anywhere until I explain to you. I knew Topper would run his mouth without telling you what actually happened.”

What actually happened? What could he possibly mean by that? When he made a bet about sleeping with you.

“How about you get dressed so I’m not so distracted and then I can tell you, yeah?”

You can’t lie to yourself, you’re intrigued. There’s a little tingle between your legs by the way he says he’s distracted by you but it disappears the second you remind yourself about the bet. You slowly nod your head and disappear behind the bathroom door, grabbing your dressing gown to cover yourself with.

Rafe is sat on your bed, mindlessly zoned out as he waits for you. You stand at the edge of it, arms crossed over your chest. “Explain.”

He smirks up at you, still eying you up despite the more covered choice of clothing.

“JJ Maybank has a very unhealthy obsession with you. To the point where I’m concerned for you. He’s a weirdo. He said he’s gonna be fucking you soon and you’ve been flirting with him.” You’re lost for words.

“I’ve never even spoken to him.” You say, voice small. You knew he was creepy but you didn’t think it went this far.

Rafe nods his head. “I told him to shut the fuck up because you’d never date anyone like him and that when he made this bet, and I agreed. I figured I’d come speak to you and get you to pretend we’ve had sex so he leaves you alone but topper got here first and ran his mouth.”

“We’ll, thank you Rafe but I can manage myself.” You say, holding your chin high.

He chuckles, again. “I don’t doubt that princess. He’s unhinged, that’s your issue.”

Your phone pings and you look down at it, to see that Madison has text you saying she’ll be setting off for you in five minutes.

You sigh. “Look, I’ve got plans. Can you just go? I really can’t be bothered with whatever you’re spewing and I’m not stupid. I won’t sleep with either of you.” He nods his head, jaw clenching and unclenching as he stands from your bed.

He towers way over you, one of his hands coming up to grip your chin. “You need to be careful, doll.” You immediately slap him away.

“Get the fuck out of my house. The only time you’re welcome here is if you’re with Topper.” His jaw is clenched again and he nods, pushing his hands into his pockets and walking out without saying another word.

Fucking hell. You grown out loud, hand coming up to run over your face. Fucking men.

-

“He said what?” Madi exclaims, almost knocking over her cocktail in the process of disbelief. You nod your head, taking a sip from your own as you lean closer to hear her in the crowded bar.

“It’s insane, isn’t it? I’m still trying to wrap my head around it myself,” you sigh, eyes searching the bar. It’s crowded, Friday night drinkers out in full force. You think you see a flash of messy blonde darting through the flocks of people, but the thought leaves your mind before it can even form.

“I mean, if Rafe Cameron were wanting to fuck me I wouldn’t say no,” madi giggles and you roll your eyes at her, wooing over someone who just isn’t that great.

“It’s not just that though Mad, it’s like he has some perverted older brother watch on me, as if he feels the need to fight my battles for me- and he’s yucky anyway. He’s slept with half the cut,”

Madi giggles again, twirling her straw in her drink. “Speaking of,” she blushes cherry and you follow her eyes to see Rafe stood at the bar, mouth moving but eyes locked on you. Your brother stands next to him, completely obvious to where Rafe’s attention actually is. He notices you looking right back at him and waves, cocky smirk on his features. You scoff, rolling your eyes.

Of course he’s here. You’d never admit that Rafe was hot, or that sometimes you had to close your thighs when he did that stupid smirk. No, never. Not even to madi.

“He’s so totally into you.” She gushes, grabbing your hand from across the table. You loved Madison, but sometimes she just didn’t get it. Rafe had been your brothers best friend since you were five, and you knew better than anyone that he was bad news. The more that you thought about it, the more it wound you up.

“Well I’m not into him, or JJ Maybank for the matter. They can both go to hell,” you mutter, seeing that same flash of blonde out of the corner of your eye. You clear your throat, excusing yourself to the toilet.

The bar that you’re in is notorious for having their toilets as far away as possible. It’s like they don’t want you to go. As you’re pushing open the ladies toilet door, something grips your bicep and you yelp, feeling yourself being pulled back.

“Rafe Cameron, really?” You immediately recognise JJ’s voice. It’s gravelly, a hint of anger laced in. “I thought we had something special,” he continues, fingernails gripping your bicep so tight you can feel the bruise already.

“I don’t know who the fuck you think you’re talking to, let me go,” you demand. If there was one thing your dad taught you to do well, it was to defend yourself.

He scoffs, other hand reaching up to grip your chin. You wriggle, trying to escape his grip, to no avail.

“I’ve seen the way you look at me, you want me. Why sleep with him when he’s a psycho?” JJ asks, tightening his grip on your chin so you’re no choice but to look at him. You had to give him that, Rafe was a psycho. But not like this.

“You look like you’ve got seven std’s, JJ. I can assure you I do not want anything to do with you,” you snap back, ripping your arm out of his grip when he softens, obviously not expecting you to say that. You finally step back and begin a fast pace down the corridor- not making it very far before he’s grabbing you again.

“You’re so fucking spoilt- but goddamn, it’s hot. I could fuck you right here,” he’s pressing all up against you from behind, whispering in your ear. You grit your teeth and reel forward, hands clawing at his around your arm.

“I’d let go if I were you,” you grit and JJ laughs.

“You gonna slick Rafe on me? I don’t see him here. You’re mine,” he hums, hand sliding down your dress.

“If that had moves an inch you’re more than a dead man.” You hear, looking up to see Rafe Cameron charging towards the two of you. You’re unsure if you’re thankful or not.

“Here he comes, your little guard dog,” JJ huffs in your ear, hand sliding lower. You gather every ounce of strength in you and reel backwards, back of your head smashing into the front of his. JJ cries out, letting go of you and grasping his now bleeding nose.

Rafe looks surprised almost as he pulls you into his side, arm wrapping around your shoulders. This feels different, safer. You’re glad he’s here.

“You broke my nose you bitch,” JJ yells at you, crazy eyes meeting your own. Rafe laughs, almost pitiful at the scene.

“Be lucky I didn’t get my hands on you, Maybank. Now fuck off, before I change my mind.” JJ eyes you both, contemplating before eventually stepping past you.

“This isn’t over,” he comments, before disappearing round the corner. You finally breathe, shoulders wracking and shaking with what you realise are cries. This could have been a lot worse.

“Hey, hey, I’ve got you,” Rafe soothes you, rubbing circles into your back. He pretends not to notice how your dress is almost at your hips as he pulls it down for you.

“I’m just looking out for you, I promise,” he whispers. “You’ve seen what he’s like now. You know I’m just protecting you,”

You nod. You couldn’t imagine what would have happened had he not appeared when he had. You hated to admit it, but you were thankful for him being here afterall.

“Let’s get you home shall we? I’ll get topper to take Madison home.” All you can do is nod, gripping Rafe’s side for dear life as he leads you out of the bar.

-

“Here, we’re home,” rafe squeezes your thigh, where his hand has been the entire drive back to your house. You’re thankful he’s allowed you to sit in silence, you don’t think you’d have the words to talk.

Rafe jumps out of his truck, rushing round to your side to open the passenger door.

“I’m okay, Rafe, honestly. Thank you,” you pull yourself out of the seat, hand searching through your bag for your keys. Rafe follows slightly behind you, waiting for you to unlock the door before standing on the step.

You hesitate in the doorway. You could really do with not being alone right now. You’re not scared, or necessarily wound up over what’s just happened, but you’d appreciate the company. Whether it be Rafe Cameron or not.

“Do you wanna stay?” You rush out, turning to face him. He’s leaning against the doorframe in what you now notice as a blue knit sweater and some black pants, all of which fit him perfectly.

“Don’t have to ask me twice doll.” He grins, hand reaching out to squeeze your hip. It’s a nice feeling, and the blush on your cheeks doesn’t go unnoticed by Rafe as he uses the grip on your hip to slide himself past you into the house.

You shut the door, locking it while thinking to yourself. You’re not sure if you’ll regret this or not, but that’s a problem for later.

“I’m gonna go get a bath I think, but you can make yourself at home in my room while I do,” you tell him, waking up the stairs. Rafe’s quick on your heels, constantly keeping close to you. You open your door to your room, flicking your lamp on that illuminates the room in a soft pink hue.

Rafe immediately kicks his shoes off and plops ontop of your sheets, grabbing the remote for your tv like he’s been here millions of times before. It feels comfortable, not a single ounce of awkwardness between the two of you. You kick your heels off and walk around to the other side of the bed, opening the bedside drawer. You reach in, taking a grinder and little tube of weed out.

Rafe whistles. “Who would’ve thought?” You raise an eyebrow, dropping some of the nuggets into your grinder and reaching into the draw for some papers.

“You’re just full of surprises, aren’t you,” rafe grins at you as you giggle, rolling the weed into the paper and using your tongue to stick it down. You think Rafe is watching you in awe, but you’re not sure.

You finish off the joint, putting all the supplies back into the drawer and reaching for your lighter before shutting the drawer.

“Do you want some?” You ask, standing up and walking to your balcony door. Rafe nods and follows, taking a seat on the chair next to you. You spark the joint and take a long puff, sinking down into the chair.

You twirl the joint inbetween your fingers before offering it to Rafe, who takes it between his lips and takes a puff.

“What happened to the bath?” He asks, taking another puff before passing it back to you. You shrug.

“I remembered I had weed and that’s better.”

“Can’t argue,” Rafe responds, watching as your lips wrap around the joint. You can immediately feel it, all thanks to your dealer getting the best stuff.

“That was crazy,” you suddenly say, thinking out loud. Rafe agrees as you pass him the joint again, taking another puff. “Like? You said he was crazy but I wasn’t expecting that. Thank you for being there.” You ramble, grabbing the joint from him and taking another puff.

“He genuinely thought we were together you know,” you tell Rafe, passing him the joint again. It’s almost already gone.

“I told him that we were,” rafe says, handing you it back. “You can finish it sweetheart,”

“You told him we were together? I thought-” you stop mid sentence, unable to form any thoughts.

“I told him that so he’d back off. Obviously didn’t work, he’s lucky I wasn’t there sooner.” You can hear the anger in his voice. You take a final puff of the joint, dabbing it out on the table before flicking the end somewhere off the balcony.

You narrow your eyes, turning to Rafe. “Why do you care so much?” He turns to you, lax as anything as he speaks.

“Because I do, always have. I wish you’d believe me when I say so because I’m not lying. I care about you a lot.”

Your mind is running a thousand miles, unable to stop. “But you’re an arsehole,”

Rafe grins. “Ouch, that hurt, princess.” You clench your thighs together. He certainly has a way with words.

“You are though- you’ve never been nice to me,” you pout, resting your chin on your hand.

“Because I was scared.” He sighs, looking out at the night sky.

“Scared of what?” You ask, oblivious. If you weren’t high, it would’ve hit you like a ton of bricks by now.

Rafe laughs. “Scared of my feelings for you.” Oh. OH.

It’s like the brakes have finally begun to work. The car you’ve been driving skids to a halt, and it all finally makes sense. Rafe likes you.

Rafe Cameron likes you.

“I just can’t control myself around you, princess. I kept my distance in the beginning because I wasn’t a good person but I’ve changed. I can manage to be near you now without wanting to bend you over something for my own selfish reasons.” Your mouth is agape. Rafe finally looks at you.

“JJ Maybank claiming to have fucked the girl I’m so passionate about pissed me off. I wanted to rip his head off his shoulders. I thought telling him we’d fucked would be enough to keep him away.” There’s a pool of your arousal building in your panties, hearing him talk about you like this. If he’d have taken one look into the thoughts you’d had of him this would’ve been a different story a long time ago.

“I don’t want to fuck you for my own sake. I’ve been a selfish man in the past, but I do care about you. I wish you’d let me show you.” There’s a note in his tome that makes you realise he’s sincere.

You eventually find your voice. “Show me.”

Rafe’s eyes meet your own. “What?“

“Show me Rafe. I mean it.”

He’s leaning over the table in less than a second, grasping your head between his hands and capturing your mouth in a kiss. One of his thumbs swiped over your cheek and you let out a whimper, Rafe pulling the both of you up to stumble together on the balcony.

His lips leave yours and wander down your neck, hands wrapping round you and lifting you onto the table. You gasp, hands gripping his shoulders as he kisses down your neck.

“You’re on my mind all the time,” rafe whispers through kisses, working his way back up to your lips. He pulls you into a kiss again, pushing himself between your open legs. You feel his bulge press against your now weeping heat and you moan into his mouth, a sound he swallows right up. You’re slowly grinding against him, hands searching all over his back and his hand push your dress up over the curve of your thighs.

“So fucking beautiful,” he murmurs, eyes drinking in every part of you. You’re thankful you decided to put your pink panties on today, as he seems specially transfixed on them and one of his fingers lingers at the edge.

“May I?” He asks, eyes searching yours. You nod, but that’s not enough for Rafe. He grips your chin, forcing you to look at him.

“Words, princess, cmon.” You about cream just from his words.

“Please touch me Rafe,” you whimper, finding your voice. Rafe grins, hand lingering at the edge of your panties finally pulling them to the side to look at your cunt. His fingers toy with the edge of your panties, before slowly pushing through your folds with intent.

It’s so dirty, on your balcony where anyone could hear. “All wet, just for me huh? Seems like you wanted this too yeah?” He tells you, holding your chin down so you can watch his ministrations on you. It’s down right wrong, how hot this feels right now. You can feel yourself dripping onto his fingers as he pushes a solo digit into your hole, groaning as he does.

You reach forward to palm him through his pants but he stops you. “Ah, this is about you. I don’t give a shit about myself right now.” He slips another finger in, setting a steady pace as his lips find yours.

You find yourself grinding on his fingers, listening to the small bouts of praise Rafe gives you and the way his fingers set a faster pace.

“It feels so fucking good,” you moan, writhing ontop of the table. Rafe moves his thumb to circle your clit and it’s over for you, crying out as you spill onto his hand and relax onto his shoulder for support.

“Cmon doll, I wanna taste,” Rafe tells you, lifting you from the table and taking you inside. There’s some shitty reality tv playing in the background but you don’t care for it much as Rafe lowers you onto your bed, pushing your dress further up and pulling your panties down, throwing them somewhere in the room.

He wastes no time, lowering himself down to your still sopping cunt and diving straight in. You feel him everywhere all at once, hands darting down to his head in an effort to grip something.

You feel one of his long fingers prodding at your hole again and you welcome it with a whimper, nails scratching his head.

“You’re so fucking sweet, could stay here for hours,” you clench around his fingers and Rafe smirks.

“You like when I talk baby? Good girl, so wet for me.” He coos, lips attatching to your clit once more. You cry out, squirming as he gives you everything like he’s known your body for years. His free hand reaches up and pulls down your dress, grasping your nipple.

“Rafe, I’m so close,” you whine, thighs locking around his head. He slurps, pushing another finger into your cunt.

“Give it to me sweet girl, cmon. Make a mess for me.” He demands, curling his fingers inside you and it’s over again, your high crashing like a wave over you and Rafe takes everything you’re giving him.

“Good girl, good fucking girl,” he praises you as he comes up, nose, mouth and chin covered in your slick. You’re aware that the weed is heightening your senses, but you had no doubt that Rafe knew what he was doing.

“You think you can give me more?” He asks, fingers still toying with your cunt. You nod, absentmindedly- fucked from just the first two.

“Ah, cmon, use your words doll,” he’s hovering above you, eyes searching yours.

“Please Rafe, please fuck me.” He grins, hand leaving you as he goes for the belt on his jeans.

“Take your dress off for me sweetheart,” he tells you and you do as you’re told, revealing your pink lacy bra. “That too,” he points to it and you reach behind you, unclasping your bra and throwing it somewhere in the room.

When Rafe frees himself from his boxers, you’re shocked. He’s large. Massive even.

“Lay back for me, just like that. Good girl.” He praises you, hands all over your body Ashe captures your mouth in another kiss. You feel his tip push into your hole and you gasp, legs trying to close.

“Cmon sweetheart, let me take care of you yeah? Make you feel good.” Rafe grips the base of his cock as you open your legs, allowing him to slide in. You gasp, never having felt this full before. Rafe chuckles like he knows, and gives you a second before he begins a slow pace.

It’s so much. You can’t keep quiet, especially when Rafe puts his thumb on your clit again and begins whispering into your ear.

“So fucking tight, so good for me aren’t you,” you moan, whimpering yes back as he continues to fuck you starry.

“M’not gonna last long,” you cry, gripping his bicep. He nods, drawing tighter circles on your clit. It makes you mewl out, nails scraping down his back. Rafe groans, punctuating his thrust as you do.

“You’re all mine now, I’m gonna make sure you’re always looked after. Fuck, you feel so fucking good, cum for me.” He demands, and his words bring you right there. His next thrust is angled just right and you whine out, pussy clenching around his dick in a way that makes Rafe see stars.

It’s like you were made for him.

“Where do you want me to cum sweetheart?” He asks, and through heavy breaths, you tell him.

“Inside. Birth control.” That makes Rafe’s hips stutter, his release painting your walls as he finally stops, keeping his dick inside you. You’re both heaving, and Rafe can feel his cum and your own seeping out of you. He reaches over and grabs your chin, pulling you for a kiss.

“Meant it. You’re mine. Gonna take such good care of you.”

-

More one shots of this ?

[zigrethsnotebook]

[SHOULDER KISS]

Ford x Reader

words: 2,846

tags: sfw, toothrotting fluff, non-sexual nudity

a/n: this is so devastatingly self-indulgent,, pls don't judge me. But also, this is for all of you who said there aren't enough Ford fics out there <3

Winter. Snow was falling, but it wasn’t soft. The winds were strong and managed to blow snow in your face no matter which way you turned or how much you covered it up. This was supposed to be a short and simple hike through the woods with Ford. When you had left the house this morning it had been just that, with snow falling softly and all. But now the weather had turned like it held a grudge against you two personally.

The twins had decided to have a little break on their sea adventure for the holidays and while Stan decided to visit the kids and Shermie, Ford had decided to come home to you. Even Soos and his Abuelita had left to spend this time of the year with Melody and her family, meaning you and Ford had the Shack all to yourselves. It also meant that there was nobody home to make sure the Shack stayed warm while you two were out.

Finally, you had made it back to the Shack, and when Ford opened the door you quickly got inside, spreading snow across the floor. You shivered as you took off your snow-laden coat and shoes, the cold having seeped inside your very bones.

Ford wasn’t much better off - his nose and cheeks burned a bright red and his eyebrows and eyelashes had little white crystals hanging off of them. He was a human furnace of a man, but even he was shivering now, rubbing his hands along his arms to generate a little warmth.

“We need to warm up as quickly as possible, I don’t want to risk either of us getting hypothermia. You should go and take a hot bath while I’ll put more wood in the furnace so the house can warm back up. I’ll take a bath after you’re done.”

You shook your head. “Sorry, won’t work. While you were gone we had some problems with the hot water. Now there’s only enough hot water for one hot bath or shower at a time.”

“Oh.” Ford’s eyes darted around the room for a moment, trying to find a solution. “Then I guess I’ll just get some extra blankets and try to warm up like that.” Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “Or you could just take the bath with me. That way we won’t risk either of us getting sick?”

You said it like it was the most natural thing in the world, Ford on the other hand could feel the heat rising to his face even more now, his turtleneck suddenly feeling a little tight around his neck. It wasn’t a secret that Ford was… uncomfortable when it came to nudity.

During your few months of relationship with the man the furthest you had gotten was one very fun make-out session where, in the heat of the moment, Ford had pulled your shirt over your head and immediately turned bright red at the sight of you. You had pulled him back in with a smile but when you tried to pull his turtleneck off of him as well he had pulled away, ending the moment abruptly.

You had tried to talk to him about it afterwards and he had confessed that he felt incredibly self-conscious about his own body after all the things Bill and his time hopping dimensions had done to it. After lots of kind words and soft kisses he had hugged you and shown you the scars around his wrists from the chains Bill had kept him in.

But none of that mattered now and you hoped he knew you wouldn’t think worse of him for any of it. You just wanted to make sure he wouldn’t get sick. “No. You go.” You could tell he was trying to sound determined, but his own shivering wouldn’t quite let him.

You shook your head. “You take a bath, I’ll get some blankets.” Ford looked at you with pleading eyes. “I won’t take a bath before you. Either we take one together-” You had to pause as a more intense shiver overcame you. You continued with chattering teeth. “-or I’ll take one after you.”

“But you just said-” The look on your face was unwavering, he couldn’t win this one. With a sigh he agreed. “Okay. You get the bath ready. I’ll take care of the furnace, then I’ll meet you there. Does that sound good?” You nodded and quickly made your way to the bathroom.

Ford felt silly for being afraid of your reaction to his body. He was a normal guy! Apart from the six fingers of course, but you had shown him again and again that you loved that part of him. Why would this be any different? He shook his head, trying to rid himself of all those negative thoughts as he placed another log in the fire.

With every step he now took towards the bathroom he could feel his heart hammering stronger and louder inside his chest. He was about to reach for the doorknob when he stilled in his movement. There was something he hadn’t even considered. He would also get to see you naked.

Ford’s cheeks, after having cooled down a little, now turned tomato red again. No. No, he couldn’t do this. He was just about to turn around when the door in front of him opened. “Ford? Why are you just standing there? Come in.” You gently took his hand that was still hanging outstretched in the air and guided him inside the room.

The bathroom had already begun to heat up a little through the warm water evaporating and filling the air. You quickly closed the door behind him, shivering again as you felt the fresh air entering the room. Ford just stood there, unable to move, just watching you as you moved around the room, getting shampoos and towels ready and finally turning off the water.

You turned to Ford. The crystals on his eyebrows and lashes had melted away, but his face was still flushed and he looked very tense. You moved over to him, gently put your hands on his arms and looked into his eyes. “I’m sorry, Ford. I won’t force you to do anything you don’t want to. I want you to know that I’m as worried about your health as you are about mine, but if you leave now I won’t judge you for that or think any worse of you.”

One of your hands found his cheek and he instinctively leaned into your touch, closing his eyes. He took a deep breath and brought his own hand up to yours, moved it to his mouth and pressed a soft kiss to your wrist. “I’ll stay.” You smiled and when he let go of your hand you moved back towards the bathtub, taking your sweatshirt off in one swift movement.

Ford watched your movements with awe. You turned to face him again and he struggled to focus on your eyes. It made you smile - you thought it was adorable how much he wanted to stay a true gentleman, even though you were more than okay with him checking you out properly.

“Suggestion: I get in first. Then, if you’re not comfortable with me seeing you naked I’ll close my eyes while you get in as well. How does that sound to you?” Ford couldn’t help but smile at how considerate you were and also admire you for your self-confidence. “Sounds perfect.”

You nodded and quickly started undressing further, looking forward to the warm water thawing your tense muscles. Ford quickly averted his eyes which earned him a quiet chuckle from you, but you didn’t say anything. When you were done, you carefully stepped inside the tub and sighed as the warm water engulfed your shivering body.

The way it was now the water reached to just above your nipples. But, knowing Ford, you had made sure to create enough foam, so you couldn’t see through the water, leaving just your shoulders and upwards visible. When Ford realized that you had settled into the tub he turned to face you again and you smiled an encouraging smile at him before closing your eyes.

Ford hesitated a moment but eventually found the courage to take off his turtleneck. His heart beat rapidly in his chest but when he pulled it over his head and realized your eyes were still closed he relaxed a little. He felt bad for not trusting you enough to see him shirtless while you trusted him enough to sit naked in front of him with your eyes closed. He took another deep breath to steady himself and took off the rest of his clothes.

After you heard what you assumed to be Ford’s pants dropping to the floor you lifted your arms out of the water and placed them on either side of the tub, inviting him in. You heard two footsteps and then felt the water moving slightly. It took all your concentration to keep your eyes closed, not because you wanted to gawk at him, but rather because you wanted to help him sit down safely without hurting either of you.

You managed though, and soon enough Ford sat between your legs in the bathtub. A deep sigh left Ford’s lips as well, as he felt the warm water around his cold skin. He was careful not to lean too far back, trying desperately to touch you as little as possible. When he was as comfortable as he could get, he spoke up again in a tiny voice. “You can open your eyes now.”

The sight in front of you made your heart flutter. It felt so domestic somehow. His gray hair and strong shoulders in front of you - all you wanted to do was reach out, pull him close and never let go. But you restrained yourself, you had to go at his pace. For a moment you just admired him, studied all the scars and tattoos you hadn’t seen before and committed them to memory.

“Please say something.” Ford’s voice didn’t quite manage to break you out of your trance. “I love you.” As soon as the words left your mouth you froze. You didn’t mean to say that - you had never said this to each other before. “Sorry, I don’t know wh-” “I love you, too.”

You were shocked, to say the least, your heart felt like it was about to jump out of your ribcage. With Ford facing forward you couldn’t look at him, but you could tell from the red of his ears that he was blushing. You bit your bottom lip as you tried to anticipate whether or not your next words would ruin the moment. “Can I touch you?”

His breathing picked up its pace and he nodded. Slowly, you lifted one of your hands from the side of the bathtub and moved it to his shoulder. Ford’s breath hitched when your skin touched his. You let your thumb draw slow, soothing circles on his skin and after a few seconds you heard Ford let out a long breath, relaxing a little.

After a few moments like that you slowly let your hand wander up his shoulder until your fingers came into contact with one of his scars and you could feel Ford tense under your touch. With a feather-like softness you let your fingers trace the scar. “Bill.” Was the only word he managed to get out. “You don’t have to explain yourself.” You assured him and he relaxed under your touch again.

A few more moments passed with your one hand tracing gentle patterns on his shoulder, until Ford raised his other arm out of the water and put it on top of your other arm. He took your hand and slowly moved it forward, pulling you along with it. You didn’t protest as you felt him wrap your arm around himself, holding it against his chest and gently kissing your knuckles.

This gave you the perfect opportunity to gently pull him towards you, encouraging him to lean into your chest, while never stopping the soothing strokes of his shoulder with your other hand. A smile formed on your face when you both had settled into a comfortable position, his back to your chest and your head looking over his shoulder.

You stayed like that for a couple of minutes, neither of you saying a word, just enjoying the moment.

You looked downward just enough to look at his shoulder and then leaned down, pressing a loving kiss to your boyfriend’s skin. Ford gasped, not expecting the sensation, but quickly relaxing into it. You could stay like this forever.

After some more time enjoying this moment, you noticed the water losing some of its warmth. Ford noticed this as well. “We should probably start getting ready soon.” He said but didn’t move an inch. You chuckled lightly. “Yeah…”

You took a deep breath, taking in as much of this moment as you could. “Do you want me to wash your hair?” Even with all that’s happened to lead you up to this point, Ford blushed again. It was adorable. He swallowed the lump in his throat. “I-If you want to?”

With a smile on your lips you gently guided him into a more horizontal position, cupped some water in your hand and let it flow over his head. Once his hair was sufficiently wet you grabbed a bottle of shampoo and put some on your hands before messaging it into his hair. Ford's eyes fluttered shut and he practically melted into your touch. You loved to see him so relaxed and it filled you with pride to know that you were the cause for this.

After you had rinsed his hair with water he was about to sit up straight again but you stopped him. “Your hair needs conditioner.” He didn’t protest and let you go through the same motions again. “I could get used to this…” Ford breathed the words out and you almost didn’t catch them. But when they registered in your mind your heart swelled with affection for the man.

“All done.” Your voice made him open his eyes and sit back up. He was no longer leaning against your chest and you noticed that the foam was starting to dissolve. You could see a little more of his back now, but you tried not to stare.

“I-ehm…” Ford started but didn’t know how to voice his question. You understood him though. “How about I close my eyes for you to get out and then I face the wall to wash my own hair while you get dressed?” Ford chuckled lightly, the tension of having to ask an uncomfortable question immediately lifted by your genuine respect for his boundaries.

“They’re closed,” you told him and he stood up, got out and wrapped himself in a towel. As soon as you heard both of his feet hit the ground you turned in the tub and faced the wall, presenting Ford your back. You wet your own hair and when you were reaching backwards for the shampoo bottle you couldn’t reach it. Seems like you didn’t think this one through fully.

“Here.” You felt the bottle gently hit your hand and took it from him. While you were busy washing your hair, Ford realized that neither of you had brought any fresh clothes into the bathroom. He quickly left to get some for himself and then some for you as well. When he came back you were just putting conditioner into your hair.

“I brought you some clothes as well.” You halted. “I knew I forgot something. Thank you.” Ford chuckled and quickly got dressed into some fresh pants and a different red turtleneck. When he was done you were just about to stand up. Ford picked up the towel and held it in front of himself. You stood up, your back still facing him, and he wrapped his arms around you and the towel along with it.

Ford pressed a chaste kiss to the nape of your neck before letting go of you. “I’ll make us both a hot chocolate.” You just hummed in response.

When you stepped out of the bathroom the house felt warm again and the smell of hot chocolate filled the air. You let the smell guide you to the kitchen where you found Ford. Your arms snaked around his waist, hugging him from behind and you nuzzled your face into his turtleneck.

When he was done preparing the drinks he turned around in your arms, cupping your face in his hands. “What have I done to deserve you?” He sighed dreamily and you smiled a crooked grin at him. “You made us hot chocolate!” You both chuckled and took the drinks to the living room where you both settled into the old recliner.

Once the drinks were emptied and you were just about to drift off into sleep in his arms, you heard Ford whisper in your ear.

“Thank you.”

[1toreyouapart]

The Lies We Tell

***FANFIC THAT INVOLVES REAL PEOPLE. 18+ ONLY. MDNI. DO NOT READ IF YOU DON’T LIKE FANFIC THAT INVOLVES REAL PEOPLE***

Summary that tells you nothing: Sometimes everything you ever wanted has been right there, within reach, all along.

CW/TW: Angst, fluff, swearing, friends to lovers, jealousy, smut, fingering, PinV, pet names, friends with benefits, more to come as I actually get things written out.

Masterlist

First Encounter

Life had a funny way of happening sometimes. One moment you're crying in your best friend's arms, the next his lips are on yours and you're kissing him back like your life depends on it. And then everything comes to a standstill, and a week later neither of you can even look at each other. Over a stupid kiss. And your roommates and friends can feel the tension. See it. So much so that they all have mentioned it.

Quinn sighed, reaching across her bed for her phone. A week of sleeping, or rather not, in her own bed. Just a solid week of staring at the ceiling every night for hours on end. One week of Noah hiding in his room, not answering the door for her. Seven days of his bedroom door staying locked. Of hearing it creak open as she lay in her bed, wide awake, listening as he crept downstairs. An entire week of him avoiding her at all costs. Unanswered texts. Calls going straight to voicemail. No answering her knock on his door. Nobody joining her in the bathroom while she showered. He was just gone. And how was that fair? He had kissed her!

Her text from four hours ago had been read. No response. Just read. All that talk about how she deserved better and one stupid fucking kiss had him completely ghosting her? While she actively lived with him?! The fucking bastard.

Everything in her went cold. Leaving her phone on her bed she carefully climbed out of bed, avoiding the spots on her floor that creaked. He wanted to be a dick? Well, he could deal with the consequences instead of hiding.

With bated breath she tiptoed out of her room and across the hall. Slowly, carefully, she pressed her ear against his bedroom door, listening for signs of life. The faint sound of a movie starting reached her ears and she smiled. Caught him. With no hesitation she knocked, calling his name softly. No answer.

Frustrated she knocked and called his name louder. Still no answer. She knew it would be locked but she had to try anyway. The knob didn't turn. She wished she could blame rage for what she was about to do, but it was just hurt. He was the one person who never left. Never abandoned her. Always reminded her that life was worth living. And now he was acting like she didn't exist? After something he had initiated? That hurt more than anything.

"Noah!" She yelled, banging on his door. "I can fucking hear you! Answer me or I'm kicking the goddamn door down! You don't get to do this, too!"

Nicholas's door creaked open at the end of the hall, followed quickly by Noah yanking his bedroom door open and hauling her inside before he slammed it closed and locked it again. One look at him and she felt somewhat guilty. He looked like he'd barely slept, if at all.

"What the fuck, Quinn?!"

"You're seriously acting like I'm wrong here?! YOU kissed ME. And yes, I kissed you back! What the fuck of it?! It was a kiss, Noah!"

His large hand covered her mouth as he drug her over to his bed. Why in the fuck was he acting so paranoid? Quinn pushed him away, making a show of keeping her mouth shut as she sat on the edge of his bed. He wanted to play? She could play.

"Quinn. People are fucking sleeping. What the fuck?"

Noah dropped to his knees in front of her, his eyes pleading with her. For what she didn't know. But she watched as he repeatedly started to reach for her, then draw back. Noah had never been scared of touching her before. This was weird. Even for him.

"Seriously, Noah? You kiss me and then act like I don't exist? After telling me I deserve better? And then you go and act just like them? The fucking audacity!" She was yelling again. She didn't care.

Quinn watched as he drug his on hand down his face, rubbing his mouth. He was frustrated. Good. He deserved to be frustrated after this shit. Who did this over a stupid kiss? It wasn't like it had gone any further and crossed major friendship lines. Was she that fucked up that even a kiss was too much?

"Noah," she begged, her resolve breaking. "You're my best friend. It was just a fucking kiss. Please." Her voice shook, breath coming in short spurts. "I'm sorry I kissed you back? I'm sorry for whatever I did that made you this mad at me. I'm fucking sorry, Noah."

She completely dissolved. Clearly she had done something wrong. But what the fuck had she done?

"Quinn..."

"What did I do, Noah?!"

"Exist."

And then his lips crashed into hers, desperate. Pleading. She couldn't help but respond in kind, her fingers threading through his hair. Pulling him closer and closer still. They were all desperation and teeth and tongues, fighting for dominance. Just two people finally acting on the feelings they had always known were there. Desperate to be as close as possible, yet desperate to just consume each other.

Noah fisted his hand in her hair, the other gently caressing her cheek, his thumb resting just on the corner of her lips as he tugged, tipping her head back, gaining more access as her lips parted on a soft gasp. His tongue delved into her mouth, hungry, but gentle. Tasting every part of her. Memorizing every movement that made her moan. His free hand traveled slowly south, fingertips tracing over her throat, over her collarbone, hesitating at the swell of her breast.

Quinn tore her mouth from his, frustrated. Here he was, finally touching her, and he was stopping?

"Noah. I swear to fucking God," she pleaded.

"What do you want, baby?"

His eyes locked on hers and she saw everything there. Everything he had been fighting the last week. All the things he had been avoiding. This moment here. He wanted her. And he wanted her desperately. Just as much as she wanted him.

"Touch me," she begged, her voice barely above a whisper.

He broke then, his mouth attacking her throat, biting and licking and sucking. And she was helpless against him. They tumbled back on the bed together, pressure already building deep within her. His free hand quickly slid down, much further down than she anticipated or needed, resting on her bare inner thigh. His fingertips danced across her skin, tracing lazy patterns.

"Noah," she begged, pressing her body against his, feeling herself grow impossibly wetter by the second.

He didn't make her beg anymore. Deft fingers shoved her panties aside, a single digit rubbing lazy circles on her clit. The pressure deep inside her quickly turned into a tight band, ready to snap. She was so close already that she nearly panicked. It had never been this intense before, and he wasn't even inside her yet.

"Fuck," he groaned, slipping a single finger inside her. "You're so fucking wet. Jesus Christ, Quinn."

Everything was on fire. Her skin. Her lungs. One of those long fingers she'd admired for years was deep inside her, stroking her in just the right spot as it pumped in and out of her. And just when she thought it couldn't get any better he slipped another finger inside her, and she swore she blacked out for a second as he curled his fingers inside of her, applying more pressure to that spot deep inside her, his palm rubbing against her clit as he worked her with his fingers.

"You're close, aren't you?"

All she could do was moan desperately in response, her hips writhing against his hand. That band was growing tighter and tighter, and she was desperate for release from the pressure low in her belly. His forehead dropped to hers, holding her gaze, his pupils blown so wide with lust his eyes almost appeared black.

"Noah!" she called out his name as that band snapped, her hips stuttering as she clamped down around his fingers, her orgasm tearing through her.

"That's it, baby. There you go. That's my girl," he praised as her orgasm peaked, talking her through it, his fingers still pumping in and out of her, massaging her through it.

Dazed she watched as he pulled his fingers out of her, bringing them up to his lips. She watched, her heart leaping out of her chest as he sucked every drop of her off his fingers, eyes never leaving hers.

"Goddamn it, Quinn. You taste even better than I imagined."

Tag: @collisionofyourkissmakesitsohard

[clitorphosis]

SPIT TO SEE THE SHINE

Vendetta Leon S. Kennedy x reader |18+ MDNI. DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT, KIDNAPPING, DUB CON, smut, age gap (reader is in 20s, Leon is 37) female reader, abusive relationship, implied alcoholism, stockholm syndrome, creampie, unprotected sex, vaginal sex, use of ‘daddy’ (not a lot), implied erectile disfunction lmao, victim blaming, fingering, implied physical and sexual violence, forced breeding.

Summary: life gets lonelier after 30s, the realization hits harder Leon and the way to cope with it is to get his hands on alcohol… too bad booze tends to encourage him to not be a good man - ending up with a younger girl in his apartment. Maybe it is a grave mistake, but Leon is just a man and who doesn’t make them? notes: uhm, this may be a lil bit self indulgent, sorry for that :3 I DONT CONDONE THIS BEHAVIOR IN REAL LIFE!!! reblogs, asks and any kind of feedback or interaction are really appreciated! :3

tags: @withonly-sweetheart

Mama has told you not to trust strangers, the concern was referred to the men, but your ears have never held her words for a time longer than a day. Nor did you remember her words when an attractive, older man noticed you and was nice enough to ask you out. That night was supposed to be a little date, giddy and happy jumping into the front seat of his car. That’s the last thing you remember. Eventually, you can not fathom how this happened - the day later your head hurt as you were forced to swallow the hard pill: you got kidnapped by your date.

The first month was insufferable and painful, slowly growing out of your ‘rebellious attitude’ and memorizing his body language like a child in an abusive household. His gaze is everywhere, keeping you locked up in the room when he is not present, a reminder to you that there is no free choice. The food, clothes, and your free time were defined by Leon’s mood and taste which… Liked to swing, creating a mess for you both, not knowing if he was genuinely ashamed of what he had done. You hated him, dreaming about the day when his throat would be sliced, painting your hands with red just to breathe in the air of freedom.

Mama knows best. No, Leon knows best.

Sometimes Leon is mean, without hesitation, sharp words can be thrown at you when he is drunk. Blaming his misery on you. Trying not to be affected by them, not enough to avoid some of them as they cling to your mind - circling as a reminder.

“You deserve this, what did you think a man would want from a woman?”,

“you are better dead”,

“you asked for this”. Did you actually?

Sometimes he is the nicest guy around here. Showering you with tenderness and care, trying to have a normal conversation, but not daring to look into your eyes. Ashamed probably, which was bittersweet and pleasant, but confusing too. Like a couple. You promised yourself to not change the way you feel about him, even if he is sweet. Not like you have a lot of options now.

Certainly, Stockholm syndrome wasn’t going to avoid you, it didn’t take long either. You aren’t special and Leon looked so lonely, returning after work mostly devastated. The expression someone would have had while grieving over something not obtainable. Not even daring to look into your face, ignoring you until his hands do not reach the booze - drinking himself until his mood changes to a handsy one. Physical or sexual. Sometimes both. And Leon is lonely, he told it himself once. Naturally or not, anger has changed to pity, while hate is mixed with something affectionate towards him. You can’t help yourself.

As someone has said - from love to hatred is one step.

So the routine has become clear after a month of staying here, sitting on the floor and watching TV while Leon is behind you. Big brother is watching you - no, Leon is watching you. Drunk or not, monitoring whatever is on the screen is appropriate in his eyes. Not for too long you were concentrating on the blue gleam coming from the screen, illuminating both frames in the living room, now like a natural thing for you both - his fingers end up in your panties to rub your clit in slow and lazy circles. His chest is pressing against your back, focused on your expressions and squirming. His calloused fingertips press harder against your sensitive clit, to hear your voice. Your body is the biggest enemy here - like a Pavlovian dog, reacting to his touch quickly and eagerly. The skin of his fingers is wet and soaked with your slick already, in no time, filling the room with squelching and wet sounds as your moans become harder to keep to yourself. Writhing and trying to shift away, but your body tends to become immobile most of the time - there is no fight or flight, just freeze.

“You look so miserable. It is reassuring, so cute too” In misery, together. His tone is the one someone would use for a dog. Always using that one with you, but you are not a dog. Not like you have any other choices right now, other than taking like a good girl and not lamenting.

If someone would have asked you, Leon is shameless with you, not the one to be shy after a bottle of whiskey, even if he can’t get it up sometimes. His fingers nudge your soaked hole, which aches for his attention. It clenches around nothing, pathetically and you disappointedly whine at the emptiness inside you.

“Come on, open your legs, be a nice girl for Daddy” Leon cooed. His lips brush over your ear, not giving you a chance to do this by yourself - forcing your legs roughly to part wider. “So much better now”

Your hips shift, arching your back as his two fingers intrude into your pussy, curling sweetly inside it to push them at your favorite sweet spot - to enforce more moans at every jolt of pleasure hitting your body. Leon likes that, watching you squirm and open your mouth like a fish desperate for air cause of him. His grip on your jaw is tight, painful even - there are going to be bruises tomorrow and he will be apologizing like a madman.

“Daddy has been so miserable these days too, fucking Redfield is always hassling me.” You don’t know who is that. The sound of his hand fumbling with his belt and the fly of his jeans reach your ears, a loud noise of them falling on the floor. “Can’t even have a vacation, what would you do without me, baby?”

“Ughh…!” you choke on your moans. There is no thought behind your eyes, your entire attention is on your pleasure. Feeling overwhelmed at every thrust of his fingers, writhing in his hold while he is roughly pumping into your drenched hole, an uncomfortable wetness clings to your inner thighs - begging to fuck you already.

“Fuck, I am so sorry, sweetheart, but you are so wet. I can’t. Just the tip, okay? Sorry,” he groans breathlessly, giving hot and quick kisses on the side of your head. Sweet touch. His gaze darkens and his body presses harder against yours, feeling his erection press against your ass. “just… this hole is dripping, and you don’t look like you don’t want it”

You are so close actually, every thrust hitting your sweet spot, curling, and keeping the quick pace of his fingers make you almost drool while focusing on approaching orgasm. Too bad that isn’t on his to-do list. As much as he wants to see you cum, on his fingers or not, - his own pleasure is much more important, especially when his dick is hard. Whiskey dick isn’t so easy to get up these days. His fingers roughly withdraw from your soaked hole with a squelching pop, denying your orgasm. The emptiness returns and your sensitive pussy clenched around nothing again - aching to be filled again.

“So messy,” Leon mutters out, shoving his index and middle fingers in your mouth - forcing you to clean them, your tongue rolls and wraps around them, tasting yourself before he finally pulls them away. “asking for bad things to happen”

You can swear to God this made your clit throb. Wetter than you can ever be, or you are hallucinating, hoping this isn’t the case. Thoughts are quickly brushed aside when his cock is pressed in between your pussy lips, bumping against your aching clit while he rubs himself against your soaked and needy cunt that coats his flesh in your slick, lubing his length in it before he pushed his cock into you - Leon is not really a patient man. Yeah, just the tip, of course. Your velvety walls easily swallow his cock, stretching inch by inch with pleasant pain and letting it slide as he pushed in quick motion until his cock got buried deep inside you. Balls pressed against your flesh, while you can’t help but tightly clench around him, his chest is pressed against your back. Relishing how tight and warm is your pussy, the best and most calming feeling for Leon - to fill you with his cock for his own pleasure. Your hair gets tugged roughly, making your head roll back while Leon starts moving slowly. His cock drags against your walls, pulling out until only a tip remains inside.

“See? Only a tip” Leon mocks you, before slamming back in, bottoming out in one thrust. You whimper and squirm, but his hold on your hair is hard - the only way to keep you under his control. His hips start pounding into you, falling deep into the pleasure connecting your bodies. “Your pussy just feels so good, weren’t you made for this, mmm?”

His movements stutter as his pace slowens when his blue eyes make eye contact with the TV. You didn’t really catch on what was happening until his hand tugged your hair, directing your half-lidded gaze to the point of his interest. The sight of your image on the news, big words on the red background: MISSING PERSON. The former shelf of yourself is staring at you both, smiling brightly - not knowing there is no future for you. The volume is turned off. In this household, it is common knowledge that Leon doesn’t let you watch the news, every time getting agitated and avoiding you even more, when sober, which doesn’t last long after that. The mood swing was quick, every time it was like a loud thunderstorm, his hips make another thrust - cock hits your cervix and forces out a loud moan, involuntarily, when Leon’s cockhead grinds against it.

“This is bullshit, you know?” He hisses into your ear, giving another rough thrust to make you gasp pathetically, as he presses your head against the TV screen. “no one is coming for you. Why? Cause you are forgettable, baby, no one needs you”

“S-stop, Leon” you mumble in between moans and trying to keep yourself aware of what is happening. “T-too much, p-please!”

Your body feels like it is on fire due to the mix of emotions he provokes, your cunt grips his cock tightly while aching for your denied orgasm from before. His hand gives a hard slap on your sensitive clit, making you arch and flinch. Your pussy flutters, gripping him tighter.

“Shhh, I am doing a favor here” he mutters, yanking your head back, forcing you to look at the news while his pounding grew more erratic, intensifying wet and flesh-hitting sounds. His voice is loud in your ears, muffling other sounds, overwhelming as his cock keeps making rough thrusts into you with every word - to punctuate them. “Keeping you here, taking care of useless you that can’t do anything right”

He buries himself deep again, pausing again to relish in the feeling of his cock filling you, while your wet walls engulf him nicely - like a drug, inviting him to stay there and never pull away. Slick drips down your thighs, and his nose brushes behind your ear before nibbling on the soft cartilage. His hand gives another light slap on your pussy, the tightness of your walls almost makes him cum.

“Maybe a baby, what do you think about it, mm?” The idea makes him throb, sliding in and out more erratically. As if he cares about your opinion right now, his fingers tug your hair harder, but his words make you flinch harder. Tears prick behind your eyelids.

“No-no-no. You can’t cum inside, no!” He is not wearing a condom. Bad, too bad. Begging comes out naturally for you now, in between your moans. Fear coats your voice, as the idea sets in quickly - being trapped here cause of an unfortunate kid. “Not the baby! Leon, please! I’ll be good, please!”

“Of course, I can. Shut up. You like this” Leon hisses, keeping your head in a firm hold, so your eyes are set on the old photo. It doesn’t feel right, but you can’t stop yourself from making noises, shifting so Leon would hit a better angle. This somewhat combines with a shame, at every hint of it your mind shoves it away. “You can’t look at yourself, too bad. Dripping even more after my words, like a whore.“

Wanting to cum, focusing more on the pleasure of his dick filling your hole - feels so wrong, but good. Like your body shouldn’t enjoy how Leon’s hips keep pounding into your soaked cunt, hitting the pudgy spot and making you repeat his name like a prayer, but your own mind and body are the biggest enemy, betraying you. His own balls tighten, as a reminder of his so soon approaching orgasm.

“You love me right, baby?” Leon whispers, voice coming out breathy and brushing against your ear shell. His calloused fingers crawl back to your clit, flicking and rubbing it roughly and unsteadily. Trying to keep the feeling of that warm tightness sucking in his cock.

“I love you, Leon, o-oh!” you hum, nibbling on the lower lip and arching, letting more noises when his dick hits your sweet spot so sloppily and messy now, chasing his orgasm. And him circling your clit with his calloused fingertips makes your legs tremble - so close to tripping and falling flat on the floor. This makes your mind fuzzy, shoving away the fear of being pregnant. Leon is nice, right? Nice enough to push you against the cold screen of the TV, it doesn’t have its use anymore. That photo faded with the news, after all. “I love you, love you,”

Your voice comes out shaky and high-pitched now. His eyes are set on your disheveled look, with light traces of tears as you repeat the confession erratically, filling his mind with them. Making this normal, you love him, so he can allow himself to not feel so guilty, right? With a final and rough thrust, he buried himself to the hilt, giving chaste and soft kisses to the back of your head. Your body shudders eventually too, your walls spasm harder around him as the hard feeling of orgasm hits you, pleasant shockwaves dumb every bad thought in the head. His cock throbbed, letting a loud groan and finally spurting ropes of cum into you while keeping messy circles on your sensitive clit, prolonging your orgasm and making you more overwhelmed with every flick. The warm essence fills your hole, Leon pulls out his softening cock with a wet pop, watching how his sperm slowly oozes out from your pussy. His mind is light, the hint of booze keeps guilt from emerging.

Words of love don’t feel like a complete lie now, as pleasant memories overwhelm the bad ones. They become almost an empty spot in the back of your mind, leaving only a foggy feeling of hate and dread. And your brain is weak for the bliss, hammering every moment deep in you - craving for more. Hate won’t bring you out of this, maybe affection will. Your hand grips weakly his wrist, you won’t be able to bear the loneliness after sex tonight.

“Don’t leave me” Your mouth is quicker than your mind, not processing anything right now. Leon breaks out in a weak smile, but his gaze isn’t capable of keeping eye contact right now. Still, he scoops you in his arms without a second thought. Remaining silent, feeling your weak body in his hold he can’t help but pepper chaste kisses on your forehead. Trying to prolong the sweet and guiltless moment for you both.

You should have known better than to accept that date with him.

[clare-875]

Until The End (Levi x Reader)- Chapter 26

[The Waiting Game]

_____ A/N: Posted on Wattpad (@CLARE_875) but also decided to post here :)

Summary:

"You can push me away, but I will still fight by you, and I will still follow you… until the end."

The ever-so-stoic Levi Ackerman has only ever known the terrors that living in a cruel world could bring. This all changed one fateful day when he encountered [y/n]; a girl renowned for her looks and abnormal speed. As they escape the confines of the Underground together, they soon discover that freedom doesn't come easy in a world full of Titans. As they rise through the ranks, [y/n] becomes known as "Humanity's Angel", a beacon of hope to humanity as she melts the walls Levi had built around his heart. However, she has her secrets too, and a dark past that might just threaten to pull them apart.

The storyline and characters of Attack on Titan do NOT belong to me, but all to Hajime Isayama; however, I do own this story, and all that occurs disparate to that storyline.

[Series Masterlist] [Chapter Twenty-Five] <--> [Chapter Twenty-Seven] _____

[Three Months Later]

It had been three months. Three months since Levi felt the whisper of your touch, heard the fleeting sound of your voice, and saw your angelic smile as you gazed up at him. He was doing no better than that retched day when he found out that you had been stolen from him, by the enemy he swore to kill; to destroy. He could feel himself slowly losing his mind. He rarely left your shared chambers. He rarely ate anything. He rarely slept at all, and even when he did, he was plagued by nightmares of your screaming, your voice taunting him. He still remembers those dreams, haunted by them even in his wake as you call out to him desperately or berate him for his lack of strength in saving you. The worst ones are where you say nothing at all, silent with your blank eyes looking at him devoid of love or life. 

Hange is worried, to say the least. It had been two months since they caught him trying to flee the walls to look for you himself. They had berated him as he crumbled under your absence. How they needed to be more prepared, how the enemy spanned wider than he could possibly imagine. How he would die if he left alone. But Levi didn't care anymore. He didn't know where you were, if you were hurt, if you were being tortured... he didn't even know if you were alive. He was utterly exhausted, utterly heartbroken and he didn't know what to say or do. The usual cleanliness he held himself to starts to deteriorate around him. Now clothes and belongings lay scattered on the floor, broken glass haphazardly swept to the side, the trace of his rage several nights ago. Levi was glad that most of the duties left for the people inside the wall were to rebuild the town of Shiganshina after all the Titans within Wall Maria were eventually killed. 

It meant he was finally free to wallow in the absence of prying eyes. Hange was shocked when they walked in one night to see him, back against the wall, drinking alcohol from the bottle. So devoid of the man they knew refusing the drink they claimed was foul. What they once hoped would be better tamed by time was turning into the opposite. No matter how many weeks passed Hange couldn't remember a single day the dark aura didn't cloud Levi's presence, an embodiment of depression and loss. His usually pale completion seemed somehow paler and his cheeks slightly more sucken in. Hange couldn't remember the number of times they had to drag him out of his room or force him to eat and shower and look after himself. 

The man who had usually seemed so composed as he eyed death in the face. The man that had faced so much loss in his life, but somehow remained strong and rebounded for the next battle was lost in his misery. It was worse than Hange could've imagined. Hange and the rest of the Scouts suffered as well. Despite the many losses of the Scouts and Commander Erwin, somehow your absence hit harder. What sadness that was usually cured by your kind words, what comfort that would be provided by your warm embrace was now lost to them. And now Hange feels as though they had lost all of the people they used to call a friend. They missed your encouraging words, Erwin's certainty, Mobilt and their squad's presence and would do anything for even a snarky response from Levi. Now, the Scout Regiment's headquarters was barren, cold and silent. 

Levi was at a total loss as he lost himself in the lack of light you usually brought him. Sat slouching on his desk his pen moved across the page robotically filling the lines of paperwork he somehow was still left with. But nothing was enjoyable about it now. He couldn't hear your sweet muttering about your day or feel as you quietly undid the sore muscles in his shoulders. He was still waiting for you to open the door like you usually do, smiling softly with a pot of tea and two mugs in your hand. Levi felt a teardrop fall from his face and onto the current page he was working on, slightly smearing the ink, but he could only grit his teeth. He rubbed at his face harshly trying to continue without breaking down or losing himself in his rage, things he admits to have done several times these past few months. He wanted to kill Zeke. He wanted to find you.

He reaches for the next piece of paper in the massive pile on his desk but accidentally ends up knocking the entirety of its contents on the floor. Levi feels the lack of patience creep in as he snaps the pen in his hands in half before he groans and goes to pick up the pages now scattered on the floor. His heart is heavy in the screaming silence of the room and he swears he hears ringing in his ears from the intensity of it as he slowly picks up the pages. His eyes then go to the underside of the armchair in the room to reach for another piece of paper before his hand falters at the sight of a small green box underneath it. He freezes before he decides to pick it up. He puts his papers down and sits on the couch, he had never seen this before. But as he opens it, his heart gets caught in his throat as he sees the carefully folded pieces of paper, your handwriting spilled upon them. 

My dearest Levi, 

If you're reading this, I'm afraid it means I was unable to fulfil my promise. 

I know you are probably angry and I don't expect you to forgive me but Levi, I just wanted to thank you for all that you have done for me, for all of this time. When I met you in those barren streets of the Underground so many years ago, I could've never imagined my saviour could turn into such a loyal friend. I could've never imagined we would remain by each other's side and grow up with each other. I never let myself think that you could ever return my growing feelings, but you did. 

You were my light in my darkest moments. You were the safety I could always rely on. You were everything to me Levi. Every time I look at you, every smile you spare me, every kind gesture or remark, I remember it all. Just know that in my final moments, I only think of you. I only remember the warmth you gave me and the freedom and life you provided me. I will never blame you Levi, whatever happens, so don't blame yourself because I know you are. 

You gave me a life worth living. 

I'm afraid this is where we say goodbye though Levi. All I ask is that you don't do anything reckless and that you look after yourself. That is all I would ever want from you. You are such an incredible man with incredible strength, I know you will overcome this as you have done everything else. You have so much more to live for Levi, embrace your time here on this Earth, do it for me, for the both of us. 

Even in my absence just know that I will still fight by you and I will still be with you, always. I will wait for you my love, until you meet your end, which hopefully awaits far into the future. 

I know we never believed in saying these three words in the cruel world we live in, but Levi, I truly and irrevocably mean it when I say, I love you. 

Stay safe my love, until we meet again. 

[y/n] 

Levi can't help it now when his grip tightens on the pages of your writing and hot tears stream down his face. He fights to keep quiet in the dark and barren room that lacks the warmth of your touch; he wants to scream. He didn't know if you were still alive out there, but he swore to himself he would find you. He would find you and berate you for writing a letter after promising you'd stay with him. He would embrace you like nothing else mattered in the world. He would return the three words he was stupid enough to think didn't matter in a life shrouded by death. He would never let you go again. 

Levi let himself wallow for a few more moments in his armchair before he got up, retrieving his papers. Until then he would have to go on; until he would see you again. And then, he would present to you the small box he had in the back of his drawer. A box that contained a symbol of his promise and his love, all embedded in a dainty ring. 

.... 

[6 Months Later]

You let out a groan as you stared at the blank ceiling in boredom. It had been 9 months since you had been kidnapped or "saved" according to Zeke and you were starting to lose your mind. Levi. You missed him so much, but most of all you were worried. You hoped he was okay. You missed his warm embrace and the smiles he would spare you every day. You missed the quiet moments the both of you would share. You missed your late-night chats and cups of tea. You would do anything to be home, with him, but you can't. Not for another 3 months at least. After the events that followed your abduction, you had learnt more about the outside world, though you must admit you had seen very little of it. 

Zeke rarely let you leave the small room he had confined you to, in trepidation that you would be found by the Marleyan government or find your way to Eren. However, that didn't mean you had done nothing these past few months. Any spare moments you had continued with your training to maintain your physical capabilities, but also to spare your boredom. Other times you met with the Anti-Marleyan Volunteers. They were a bunch of interesting characters, to say the least. You couldn't say if you fully trusted them yet but you could tell that their devotion, especially the woman Yelena, to Zeke was undeniable. 

You hadn't met any of the other Titans including Reiner during your stay, but you were surprised as you learned that the Cart Titan, the one also responsible for your kidnapping should know you were there. You. An enemy on their territory. But you soon learnt that it was through the work of Zeke that they hadn't found you; him and his manipulative ways. During your stay, you had also been informed that Marley was currently in a state of war. The Marley Mid-East War. With Marley's operation to retain Eren failing, and the Colossal and Female Titan lost to Paradis, Marley's military capabilities were greatly reduced. This was noticed by the Mid-East Allied forces, a collection of nations that were against Marley, resulting in a war declared. 

With the development of Anti-Titan artillery by the Allied forces and the lack of Titans on Marley's part, it seemed like a close battle that still saw not an inkling of an end. Due to this, you had barely really seen Zeke, but it had also meant that you and the Anti-Marley Volunteers could plan your course of infiltration on the Marley fleet that would head to Paradis in three months without much disturbance. You let out a sigh. You didn't know whether you could ever fully trust Zeke and his endeavours, but you knew that Paradis desperately needed technological advancements and support, and that was what he was willing to supply. With an enemy as large as the entire surrounding world, and the continuous developments that render Titans more and more ineffective, you could no longer rely on the skill sets and resources the Scouts have developed. You would need all the help you could get, and so you reluctantly agreed to help them help you. 

You look up, breaking away from your thoughts as your door opens. It's Zeke. You sit up, you haven't seen the man in two months. "Ah, [y/n], you're still here." You roll your eyes. You won't lie, you did attempt earlier in your stay here to escape. But you soon realised how risky and useless it was in a massive town, surrounded by enemies and with no idea where to go. You had hoped to return before anyone noticed but you guess Zeke was somehow informed anyway. "Only for the time being," you mutter out before crossing your arms. "And the war," you continue as you look at the man who sits down tiredly in a chair next to the bed where you sat. "How is it going?" Zeke lets out a deep sigh. "It's rough, but we're managing." A long awkward silence takes over as you realise you have nothing else to say, that is, until Zeke speaks up once more. 

"You're leaving in three months." He says it like a question and a statement at the same time. "That's right," you mutter diverting your gaze to the floor. "I'm going home. I'm afraid you won't have me to keep you company anymore." You say sarcastically as you let out a tired sigh. He lets out a half-hearted smile. "You know, it might seem like we're on two sides of one war, but we're more likeminded than you think." He says dully, clearly exhausted after the day's events. "I'll miss you [y/n], it's nice to have a sane mind around here sometimes.” You grit your teeth before laughing humourlessly. "I have somewhere I need to be. Paradis needs those advancements we made and I've already been away for too long…" Your thoughts drift to the man you love once more, feeling the deep pit of homesickness grow without him by your side.

"Is it Levi?" 

You look at him, eyes widening in surprise, but Zeke looks at you, eyes grim as he sees yours glisten in the lamp by your bedside, illuminated against the darkened sky outside. "What about him?" You say trying to divert the attention away, but you already know he's caught on. "The Ackerman, huh... Funny the man who tries to kill me, is rather devoted to you." You tense at the sudden dangerous atmosphere. "What are you going to do?" You ask, unliking the heavy air that surrounds you. "Give me relationship advice? Use me against him? Restrain me here, not allowing me to go back!?" Zeke shakes his head at your rising words leaning back in his chair. "I already told you; I don't plan to keep you here any longer than I need you to. I told you I would help you return in a year, and I plan to keep my word…" There is a short silence before he speaks again.

"If it comes down to it, would you allow Levi to kill me?"

Zeke’s low voice echoes the small room as you look at him, your face grim. It's a question asked dully, but you know that Zeke is curious about what you will say. You allow the quiet to consume him for a second, but you already know your answer. "Yes." You say simply like it was the easiest answer in the world. There is a pause before Zeke lets out a low laugh that turns louder before he composes himself. "Is that right?" He mutters as he looks to you amused; this only makes your irritation for the man grow. "Then you won't blame me if I give my all in killing him?" It's your turn to go silent before you look at him like he'd grown two heads. "I'd like to see you try Zeke," you say before you let out a demonic but tired grin. "But I think we both know you'd end up in your grave long before you touch a strand of his hair." 

"Is that right?" Zeke repeats still amused at your obvious confidence in the man you're so fond of. "I'd make sure of it myself." You say quietly as you turn away once more, missing Levi's presence more than ever. Maybe if he was here, he'd beat the man up for you. Zeke lets out a deep sigh, his gaze turning more serious again as he looks at you. "I get it, I get it," he says as he looks at your more withered form. Despite having fed you often, you rarely ate enough these days, he could see it in your eyes, the turmoil that came with the absence of the man you missed. Despite knowing you kept up with your training, you somehow seemed smaller, more tired, more... lifeless. "I didn't come here to taunt you like this." You laugh at his words but it doesn't reach your eyes. You turn to him. "Really? I could've sworn that's all you're capable of." 

He grins but says nothing. "I actually wanted to let you know the plan. You will be heading to Paradis in three months after all and it's coming up soon." You look at him eyes sparking at the revelation. "I also have a message for the Scouts... a list of my demands." 

..... 

[3 months later]

You stand in a Marleyan uniform, head low as you stand next to Yelena in the same uniform. Your heart pounds against your chest. Thanks to Zeke's interference things have been smooth sailing so far. You take a moment of everyone readying for their arrival to Paradis to look up to the sky. You see the millions of stars lining the dark sky. You take in an intake of breath and embrace the cool air that has a hint of salt on it. You look forward and now glance at the dark horizon. Despite the lack of light, you embrace the sight of the ocean. If you were alone, you swear you could cry. You feel every rock of the wave, you feel cold bursts of water spraying periodically into the air. It was just like that night all those years ago. Except back then, you had been shrouded in your mother's warm embrace as she held you, escaping your deaths. 

It was bittersweet. The dreams that you found out to be reality held so much more depth and darkness than you could have imagined. Yet, you long for the man you've waited to see for more than a year. One day [y/n], you'll understand. You'll meet a man you love so much you just can't let go. You think back to your mother's words to you that day she made it to the walls, only to die with the rising sun. Well, I've met him mother. You think to yourself. And I won't let him go, not ever again. Yelena looks at you discreetly and observes the nostalgic look you have on your face as you look at the dark ocean. She says nothing as the voice of the man in charge rings through the air. The ship stops, static in the water, as the first team of soldiers board a smaller boat, and we wait for them to go ashore. 

..... 

"Captain! The team that went ashore hasn't made contact for more than two hours!" You hear the voice of a Marleyan man in the distance talking to the man in charge. "Hmm. Prepare to send teams two and three." The man says to the soldier, a hint of urgency in his voice. "Yes, sir!" The voice of the same man replies. "The island of devils defeated the Warrior unit. Whatever the cost, Marley must learn what happened." You grit your teeth at the Captain's words but stay silent towards the back of the boat. But suddenly the boat starts to shake from under you. Your heart pounds in your chest as you quickly go to stabilise yourself watching as suddenly the ocean is not at eye level anymore. 

You grab onto the railing tightly, watching as soldiers in front of you topple down the boat, some falling into the ocean, as the boat rises from the ocean into the sky. "Hang on!" You hear the voices of the soldiers scream out in agony and fear, but then you hear the Captain's voice confirm your suspicions. "I-It's a devil!" Sure enough, the familiar sight of Eren holds the massive boat up into the sky. You feel yourself smile slightly despite your current predicament; you were home. Eren's Titan takes long thunderous steps that cause your grip on the railings to tremble as he takes the boat to shore. Then suddenly you feel weightless as Eren carelessly drops the boat onto the body of sand below. You topple, landing harshly. Could’ve been a bit gentler Eren. You frown at your aching back before you sit up, you can't blame him really, he didn't even know you were there. 

You quickly get up though, as you hear a familiar voice rise from a distance. "Hello, friends from Marley! Welcome to Paradis Island!" It's Hange. You feel your heart uplift but you force yourself to be patient, grabbing the gun fastened on your hip in preparation. "I'm Hange, here to greet our guests who've come so far across the sea! Now, step this way and join us for some tea! By the way, we're already friends with this guest that arrived before you! Isn't that right Nicolo!" You hear Hange's bright voice filling the air. They never change. You think to yourself as you slowly move out of the shadows and take a peek over the boat's railing. You see Hange in the distance next to a blond-haired man you recognise to be a Marleyan soldier, not on your side.

Then your eyes avert. It had been one year since you'd seen him, but even from a distance, you knew it was him. The raven locks, the unfaltering expression on his face. Levi. Your heart pounds, anticipation brimming inside of you, forcing yourself to calm down. "Captain! Forget about me and shoot these devils!" You hear the soldier held captive next to Hange yell out to you. "-What are you saying, Nicolo?!" Hange interrupts as you see their face change into one you could only describe as demonic as they get closer to Nicolo's face. "Captain!" The soldier continues to shout. "Nicolo! Understand this, you devils! Marely doesn't mingle with filthy blood!" The Captain of the ship yells out to Hange as you walk towards him readying your gun, trying to ignore the anger in your system. 

The Captain aims his gun towards Hange, Nicolo and Levi, readying to shoot. "Go drink your pig piss with your filthy friends!" You hear the shout of Hange reach the air in exasperation. "Aww! Hey! You sure you wanna be rude to us?! Can't you see the Titan behind you?!" Sure enough, Eren's Titan remained silently looming over our vessel watching us carefully, steam bellowing from his large figure. "We'll never yield to you devils! Say hello to this!" The Captain refocuses his gun on Hange once more, readying to shoot, you see Yelena's hands twitch for her gun, but you're quicker. You raise your gun to the air whilst the other soldiers are distracted. Hange lets out a squeal as they look at the Captain with the weapon in his hand. 

A lone gunshot pierces the air. 

There is a deep silence. You watch as the Captain in front of you stumbles, before falling to the ground. Blood seeped through his head, as he looked blankly to nothing, steam flowing from the gun you held in your hand. "You should really be more polite to your hosts," You say darkly, as Yelena approaches from behind you, tension rising as your voice fills the air. Levi suddenly looks up at your form, heart pounding relentlessly at the familiar sound. "What's this?" A soldier yells to your left pointing a gun towards you, but Yelena points her gun at the man speaking calmly. "Drop your weapons." With that, more soldiers point their guns at you, but the disguised Anti-Marleyan volunteers come behind them returning the favour. You had the upper hand, the Marleyan soldiers held at gunpoint and outnumbered. 

Yelena takes off the helmet she wore before turning to Hange, who is still frozen in the spot. "Hange, I'd be happy to accept your invitation." She says, looking at them, still silent. Everyone's eyes are focused on you however, as you also take your helmet off your head, not knowing why you suddenly feel so nervous. Your [h/c] hair spills from the helmet, your [e/c] eyes now visible, along with the angelic features they thought they would never see again. You look up, only to see that Hange and Levi look at you as though they had seen a ghost. "Let's have tea," Yelena shouts from next to you, as you look at the two of them, tears now brimming in your eyes. You were finally here, after so long. 

"It's been a while, Hange... Levi." 

_____

A/N: We're entering the final season! Thanks for reading <3

[Chapter Twenty-Five] <--> [Chapter Twenty-Seven]

Tags: @batboygirlie

[splendsay]

COD FF // Callsign: Sunshine // Ch. 42: Amongst the Gray

listen idk what about this chapter was so fucking hard for me to write but alas

here we are

I do hope u enjoy regardless of how much I struggled to shit it out

..................................................................

Callsign: Sunshine // Chapter 42: Amongst the Gray

Rating: 18+ !!MDNI!! Chapters: 42/? WC: 112,264 Pairing(s): TF141 x F!Reader (You) Chapter Warnings: Explicit language Chapter Excerpt (🚨spoilers!!🚨):

This room is very gray. 

It's really just -- it's so gray. The walls are the wood of long-dead trees, the color and the life siphoned out of them by the cruel and unyielding passage of time. The floor isn't much better. Hard-packed dirt. Ancient. Untouched by the sun. 

There are no windows. And the singular lamp in the center of the long, wooden worktable does little to illuminate the space.

Every corner of this room feels bereft. Dull. Still. 

It's the servant's quarters. That big, open room in the basement where Gaz shot the zombie's brain out.

You haven't set a foot in here since then. Since...all of it. The zombie. Laswell. You're not sure why Cap picked this room instead of the kitchen. You suppose it doesn't matter.

You should probably give her a name, you think. The zombie. For as often as she crosses your mind. 

You mentally admonish yourself for not thinking of it sooner and comb your mental list. The one you'd started over a decade ago, back when you were still practically a girl. When you thought a baby was something you wanted. Or could even have. 

Sarai. Bijou. Marise. 

None of them quite fit. 

You'll keep this in the back of your mind, though. You'll think of something. 

She deserves a name. 

Cap, bless his heart, has been droning on and on about the game plan for Boston and today's team assignments for the last fifteen minutes -- and you've heard almost none of it. 

Your legs are crossed uncomfortably beneath you, clenched together so hard you're losing a little feeling in your right butt cheek. You can't help it, though. You're trying to hold in place the ragged, long-forgotten washcloth Farah managed to find for you when you'd come crying to her door minutes before today's call-time. 

You'd awoken that morning to the sight of blood. Covering your hands. Stark against poor Simon's white sheets. 

A wave of panic had crashed through you -- only to be swiftly followed by a familiar twinge in your lower back. 

You'd shifted the covers back. Huffed a disbelieving laugh and simply -- stared. At the sticky shade of currant coating the skin of your inner thighs.

Simon had startled hard at the sound, hands immediately finding your waist, tugging you into his body protectively. 

"Si, it's okay," you'd assured him. "I'm okay."

He had blinked down at you, eyes snagging around your legs. "What--oh. Oh."

You'd spent the next several minutes convincing him that you were, in fact, okay, and allowing him to carry you to the bathroom for another shower. He'd taken his time with you again -- tender and reverent and utterly devoted to you. You're not entirely certain he's real sometimes. But he is. Every time you pinch yourself to be sure, he swats at you like a protective mother hen. 

"What the hell're you doing?"

"Just...checking."

When you'd insisted upon returning to his room that you would do his laundry for him, he'd furrowed his pretty blonde brow in argument.

"I know how to get blood out of linens, Ace," he'd said, practically rolling his eyes. And, given that you had little rebuttal against this truth, that had been the end of it. 

"Sunshine?"

The sound of your name on Cap's lips snaps you back to reality. You jolt in your seat and grimace at the cascade of ugly sensations that follow. Fucking periods.

"Y-yep?"

Cap frowns at you. "You're with Soap."

Your eyes find his directly across the table from you, wide and blue and happy to see you. Your own crinkle in return. He toes your shin playfully in greeting and you have to resist the urge to react with a similar gesture, lest you shift your rag out of place. 

"Alright," Cap goes on, clapping his hands together. "Begone with the lot of you. We'll reassess tomorrow, map out a plan for hauling shit out of here. Pick-up is in three days."

The room stirs as people rise to their feet. Scuffs of shoes. Grouchy morning grumblings. You glance to your right to find Simon staring daggers at the Captain. 

"What is it?" you ask. 

He looks down at you, gaze immediately softening. "Nothin'," he mutters. "Just sorry to be stuck with Cap all day instead of with you two."

You giggle and waggle your eyebrows at Soap, who grins. You give Simon's knee a conciliatory squeeze.

"We'll come find ye for supper?" Soap suggests.

Simon smiles at his friend, his mask stretching with the movement. 

"Alright. Just try not to get into any trouble without me."

Soap snorts. "Wouldn't dream of it, L.t."

Simon shakes his head. "Nah, be careful with this one." He jerks a thumb in your direction.

"Hey!" 

..................................................................... Links to: Spotify Playlist Full Fic

[mxltifxnd0m]

late night talking ✤ s. winchester

summary: neither you nor sam are tired, so you guys stay up and talk; [a part of season of the witch verse!]

pairings: established! sam winchester x witch! reader, sam winchester x gn afab! reader

word count: 3.4K

warnings: none really, no use of 'y/n', fluff, whole bunch of fluff, mentions of dead parents, a little bit of angst, reader is given nickname 'jinx', kinda edited, the title is inspired by the song by harry styles

a/n: ahh first fic for season of the witch verse! im legit so excited for this little universe and so i hope you guys enjoy it! also this was inspired by a really old fic i had written a long time ago :)

enjoy the fic! please like, comment, and reblog! your feedback fuels me <3

[here's my taglist; read rules before sending in an ask]

𝘴𝘢𝘮 𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵

You could feel the cold creep into the bunker as the leaves on the trees surrounding the bunker turned red and orange as they fell from the branches. You were practically jumping for joy as you got to indulge in the cooler temperatures, being able to wear warmer clothing, enjoying hot drinks, visiting pumpkin patches, and adoring the warm spices and scents that the autumn season brought for the coming months before the harshness of the winter weather Kansas had. 

You and Sam came back from a day filled with fall festivities. You guys went apple picking in the morning before you went to the local farmers market that the town would have bi-weekly and walked around for a while, holding hands as the two of you strolled down the stalls of the local business owners selling their products.  Some food trucks were set up around the perimeter of the market, and one of them was selling hot cider and other warm drinks; despite your protests of you paying for the drinks, Sam had ended up paying for the hot ciders you ordered for the both of you with a cheeky grin. 

The farmers market was hosted at the nearby park, so the two of you sat down on a bench and people-watched while you guys sipped on the hot ciders that warmed your insides while you drank it. Before you knew it, it was late afternoon, nearing evening, so the two of you decided to pick up some dinner. You went to the cozy diner in town, and once the two of you were done, you picked up some food and pie for Dean before heading back to the bunker. 

Dean thanked you with a grin when he looked inside the bag of food you had given him and retreated into the “Dean Cave,” where you believe he spent most of his day just watching Netflix.  You shook your head and smiled to yourself before heading to your room to get ready for bed. 

It wasn’t late when you and Sam got back home. But the chilly October air lingered and had settled in your skin, so you quickly gathered your pajamas, which consisted of a gray woolen sweater (that definitely was yours and not stolen from Sam), black sweats, and some fuzzy socks that you had bought as soon the weather started to cool down because you learned the hard way that the tiled floor of the bunker was not kind to bare feet in the colder months. You took a hot shower before changing into your pajamas and made your way into your shared room with Sam. 

You leaned on the doorway of the room and couldn’t help the smile that grew on your face when you saw Sam already in bed and sitting against the headboard, reading the book he kept on his nightstand. He didn’t seem to notice you yet, Sam being wholly enraptured in the tale he was pulled into. You didn’t dare disturb him, so you took the time to admire him from your spot in the doorway. 

Sam was wearing a simple black long-sleeve shirt, but you could see the initials of your name that you had embroidered on the left cuff of the sleeve. Your smile grew when you realized he was wearing the shirt (among many other shirts and pants) that you embroidered your initials on for his birthday. At first, he hadn’t noticed them until Dean pointed them out one day when one of them accidentally got mixed up in his laundry. You remembered how flustered he got when he asked you about it, but he still wore the garments that you had given him. 

Your eyes trailed down to see what he was wearing for pants, but his legs were covered by the duvet. You could imagine that he was either wearing a thin pair of sweats or just his boxers and socks since he was the living embodiment of a furnace.  Your gaze flicked back up when you saw Sam absent-mindedly tuck a strand of hair behind his ear. That was when he saw you out of the corner of his eye, and your eyes met his. 

Sam smiled at you, saved the page he was on with a bookmark, and closed his book. “Hey.” He said softly. 

“Hi.” You kicked off of the doorway and made your way to the bed. Sam set his book on the nightstand and held his hand out for you to take. 

“Such a gentleman, Sammy.” You couldn’t help but gently tease him as you took his warm hand. 

Sam chuckled as he shook his head. “Only for you honey.” His hand guided you as you climbed on the bed and sat in his lap. Sam let go of your hand to rest his on your thighs as your palms settled on his broad shoulders. 

“Have fun today?” He asked as his hands slid up from your legs and to your waist. He snuck underneath your (his) sweater to rub at your skin soothingly. 

You nodded. “Very. Feels like it’s been ages since we had a proper date without Dean involved.” 

As much as you love Dean, you’re sure that he was sick of third wheeling with you and his brother since monsters decided that it was primetime to cause murder and mayhem. So you were dragged all over the country for the past couple of weeks helping the boys research and kill monsters. It was only until the last hunt that involved some ghouls that the three of you made it back to the bunker, and it seemed that the monster activity had quieted. That was a little over a week ago, and trouble with the supernatural seemed to die down, so the two of you decided to have an impromptu date today after recuperating in the bunker for the past couple of days. 

Sam huffed a laugh through his nose. “Yeah, I’m sure he’s happy that he didn’t have to see us ‘canoodling.’” 

“But you have to admit that it’s funny to annoy him by acting like an obnoxious couple.” 

Sam pursed his lips, but you could tell he was trying to hold back a smile, the twitch of his lips becoming more evident. “It’s a little funny.” 

You shot him a cocky grin. “Told you.”

“Whatever.” Sam rolled his eyes at you, but a smile broke on his face. 

“Your words are telling one thing, but your face is telling me another Winchester.” You said as you poked one of his dimples when he smiled. 

You let out a giggle when he tried to swat your hand away from his face and missed it. 

“Why do you always do that?” 

You shrugged. “Because I want to. And I love your dimples.” 

Sam would never admit it, but a slight blush formed on his face at your admission. Sam wasn’t used to the amount of affection in his relationships. He ducked his head down slightly, making some of his hair fall in his face. Before he could tuck the wayward strands behind his ear, you beat him to it. You brushed the hair back and rested your hand on his cheek, feeling the slight prickle of the stubble beginning to grow against your palm. 

You sent him a soft smile before leaning in and pressing your lips against his. You could feel him smile into the kiss before slowly moving his lips against yours. Sam’s lips were soft and warm as the two of you shared a sweet kiss. The two of you pulled away gently, not straying too far, having rested your forehead against his. You and Sam were in your own bubble, content with sitting in silence as you took solace in each other’s presence.

After a few moments, you gave Sam a quick peck on the lips before you moved off of Sam and towards your side of the bed. He let go of you, letting you get settled under the covers, before pulling you towards him, Sam tucking you into his side. Your head was lying on his chest as his arm wrapped around your shoulders, and your arm was strewn across his chest while your legs tangled with his. 

Both of you let out satisfied sighs as you settled in each other’s embrace. You let Sam’s scent engulf you, and you nuzzled your head further into his chest. You could feel his hand resting on your arm and drawing random shapes on top of the sweater, trailing up and down as the two of you lay in bed together. 

“You know, my mom would have liked you.” Your voice felt deafening in the nearly silent room. 

You felt Sam’s hand stop on your arm, probably out of surprise that you brought her up. You didn’t talk about your mom, or your parents for that matter, often. 

“Really?” His voice was low, but you could hear the lingering curiosity in it. 

You shifted in Sam’s arms, propping your chin on his chest and looking up at Sam. You were immediately captured in Sam’s hazel gaze. They were a mix of emeralds and gold swimming together in the warm lighting provided by the lamp on Sam’s nightstand. 

You felt the corner of your lip twitch as you nodded at Sam. “Yeah, she was really picky with the partners I would bring home. She liked maybe two out of the ones she had officially met.”

“How many people did you bring home?” Sam’s brows furrowed, causing the tell-tale crease in between them when he got curious and asked questions. 

“Around five.” 

Sam raised an eyebrow at you. “Around five?” He parroted your words with a questioning tone, but a half-smile was on his face. You felt his hand on your back and traced up and down your spine. 

You huffed at him, knowing exactly what he was thinking. “Sorry, she met five of my partners.” You rolled your eyes at him. “But, you would have been the sixth.” you murmured. 

His smile dimmed, Sam’s hand stilling on your back. “What would she have said to you if she met me?” 

You smiled at the thought of your mother and Sam meeting. “Well, she would have immediately commented on the fact that you’re too attractive for your own good.”

Sam rolled his eyes at you. “Right.” 

“I’m not joking!” You couldn’t help but laugh and sit up. “My mom was an honest woman, and she let people know what she thought.” Sam’s arm was wrapped around your waist as he looked up at you from his position, lying against his pillow. 

“Mhm, okay. What else would she have said?” 

You could tell that Sam didn’t exactly believe you, but you moved on. “She’d be able to see that you’re adorable, considerate, intelligent, and empathetic. Mom had this thing where she could tell if you had good intentions or not by a gut feeling.”

“Did you inherit this from your mom?” 

You couldn’t help but let out a chuckle. “Maybe? It doesn’t work sometimes.” You thought back to your previous partners you had before dating Sam. 

“Well, let’s speculate. What do you think she’d think I’d have?” Sam sat up and rested his back against the headboard.

You purse your lips in thought before responding. “Mom would have said that you have only the best intentions when it comes to dating me.” 

Sam’s face softened. “I do.” 

“I know. That was the only time that it seemed to work for me.” You paused before the gentle smile that was on your face turned into a smirk. “But you would have lost brownie points by being a hunter.” 

“Yeah, can’t blame her.” Sam couldn’t help but agree with that notion, and he shook his head, chuckling. You let out a light laugh alongside his chuckling. You leaned back and tucked yourself underneath Sam’s arm. He wrapped his arm around your shoulder as you rested your head on his shoulder. 

There was a lull of silence that settled between the two of you. 

Sam leaned over and kissed the side of your head before laying his head against yours. “Tired yet?” He murmured. 

You glanced at the clock on your nightstand. “Not yet.” You answered back just as quietly. 

“Have any stories about your mom? I know you don’t talk about her often, but you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to.” 

You shook your head as you reached over and grabbed Sam’s free hand. “It’s fine, I have plenty of stories about her.” You swallowed thickly. It had been years since she had died, but it didn’t mean it wasn’t hard to talk about her. 

“But, I remember when we had moved to California for a couple of months after Dad died, and she was able to rent out a beach house for the summer.” You smiled fondly as you began to remember your summer that year. 

“She refused to tell me how she was able to get a beach house, but we spent practically everyday outside and enjoying the ocean. Mom was even able to get us surfing lessons for the summer.” 

“Were you any good at it?” Sam asked. 

“Yeah, I got pretty good at it after a couple of lessons. But she was terrible at it.” You laughed, your mind flicking through all of the times your mom fell when trying to stand up on the surfboard when trying to ride a wave. 

“You would think a seasoned hunter like her would have great balance, but I guess it didn’t translate to the water.” You smirked sadly. 

Sam laughed lightly at your words, squeezing your hand that was in his. “That sounded like a lot of fun.” 

“Mhm, it was.” You sighed. “She was the best.” 

“She sounded like a wonderful woman. I wish I could have met her.” 

You lifted your head from his shoulder and looked up at Sam to find that his gaze was already on you. “So do I.” You murmured. 

Sam sent you a sad smile before leaving a small kiss on your forehead. He shifted down on the bed, pulling you down with him, returning to the previous position that the two of you were in earlier. 

You felt the warmth emanating from Sam’s chest as your cheek rested against it. You hadn’t let go of his hand as the two of you went back to lying on your bed, which rested on his stomach. You could practically hear the questions rattling around Sam’s brain as his fingers traced circles on your back. His ministrations were soothing and slowly lulled you to sleep. Your eyes eventually fell closed as your breathing began to even out. 

“Do you ever think we’ll have a life outside of hunting?” Sam’s question was hushed, but it caught your attention as your eyes snapped open, and you took in a harsh breath as you thought about your words.

“Is that something you want?” You looked up at him to see him looking up at the ceiling, his face pensive. 

Sam frowned slightly as he gave you a half-hearted shrug. “I don’t know anymore. I’ve tried so many times, but hunting always seems to pull me back in.” Sam looked down at you with somber eyes, his once hazel eyes looking stormy and gray, his brain becoming a frenzy of thoughts filled with doubt and regret. 

“Stop.” You untangled your hand from his and took his chin in between your index and thumb. “I know what you’re thinking, and no it’s not your fault. I chose to come back into this life.”

Sam’s frown deepened. You knew that he blamed himself for pulling you into his world of crazy and despair. You huffed at him before getting out of his grip and straddling his lap once more. You grabbed his face and stared deep into his eyes. 

“You better listen closely Sam, because I’m only going to say this once. It is not your fault that I’m here and hunting. Yes, I was living a normal life, but let’s face it, being a witch doesn’t allow normalcy. I was going to get dragged back into the world of the supernatural one way or another.” You let one of your hands fall from his cheek to rest on his heart.  “It just so happened that you are a part of this world that had pulled me back in.” 

“But, I wouldn’t have it any other way. You’re stuck with me, Winchester, got it?” You sent him a toothy smile as you felt his heartbeat against your palm. 

Sam couldn’t help but also smile at the sight of yours. “Understood.”

“Good. And to answer your question. I’m on the side of optimism here, so I like to think that we will.” 

“Really?” Sam’s tone was filled with intrigue. It wasn’t every day that he saw you be optimistic, knowing that you had a realistic outlook on life. 

You nodded. “Mhm. I’m not a divination witch but, I have this feeling that there’s a light at the end of this tunnel and the two of us and Dean are going to get our happy endings. We just have to wait and see what happens.” 

Sam raised an eyebrow at you. “You think so?” 

“Call it a really intense gut feeling.” 

“So it’s a maybe.” Sam said sassily. 

You slapped Sam’s chest in retaliation as he chuckled. “Shut up, who’s the witch here?” 

“Hey, I was the one who had visions.” 

“Did you see that far into the future? Besides, where are those powers now?” You raised an eyebrow at Sam. 

Sam’s lips thinned before pressing them together. You smiled at him as he tried to think of a response, but you both knew that you had gotten him. 

“That’s what I thought.” You sent him a smug smile before pinching his cheek with the hand that was still resting on his face. 

Sam scowled at you before it turned into a mischievous smile. Before you knew it, Sam had flipped you on your back. You landed on the mattress with a sharp yelp leaving your lips as Sam hovered over you. You recognized the glint that was in his eyes, and before you could stop Sam, he started to tickle your sides, poking and prodding at them. You erupted into giggles as you tried to escape his hands. You were pushing at his hands as your legs flailed behind Sam’s giant form straddling you. 

Sam only stopped when you yelled out ‘Uncle’ and had the smuggest smile on his face as he pulled his hands away. 

“I hate you.” You breathed out, your chest heaving as you calmed down from getting attacked by Sam’s hands. 

“No you don’t.” Sam had moved to hover over you, now resting his forehead against yours. 

“Yeah, I do.” 

Sam let out a breathy chuckle. “You’re impossible.” 

“Me, impossible? Never.” You couldn’t help teasing as you bit your bottom lip and looked at Sam. 

Sam’s lips were brushing against yours as he spoke. “Right.” He drawled out in a low voice, and you could feel yourself melting at the sound of the deep timbre of his voice. 

Before you could make another snarky remark, Sam pressed his lips on yours in a languid kiss. Your hands flew to his shoulders and slid up to rest on the nape of his neck as he deepened the kiss. You felt his tongue swipe at the seam of your lips, and you all but let the taste of him flood your senses. You could faintly taste the mint of his toothpaste, but it was all purely Sam. He kept the kiss slow, but it was filled with passion as he licked at your mouth and how your tongues intertwined with one another. But you could vaguely feel your lungs start to burn at the lack of oxygen they were getting, so you pulled away from Sam. 

You didn’t stray far, letting him rest his forehead against his as the both of you caught your breath. There were mirrored smiles on either of your faces. They were filled with content and love as you gazed at each other. 

“I love you Jinx.” Sam whispered. 

“I love you, my heart.” You whispered back at him. 

Sam left a lingering kiss on your lips before moving off of you, and the two of you settled back into each other’s arms. Sam’s arms were wrapped around your shoulder and waist as your face was squished against his warm chest, letting your legs intertwine with each other once more, the two of you fitting together like two pieces of an unsolved puzzle. The two of you eventually drifted off, dreaming of each other and the future that awaited you and Sam. 

[just-moondust]

One Alaskan Night

Aaron Hotchner x Fem OC

‐----------‐------------------------------

Summary: Short but sweet. Classic sharing a bed troupe. Close friends Aaron and Sam end up sharing a bed whilst on a case in Alaska. It leads to them discussing their feelings for one another.

A/N: Had this in my head for a bit, wanted to write it. Maybe follow up with a few more.

Hotch had always had a soft spot for Sam. From the moment he set eyes the red haired doctor, all the way back when he'd first joined the BAU and she was assistant to the Quantico medical examiner. Now, over ten years later they'd become good friends. Hotch had insisted that she join the BAU on cases and having their own ME certainly sped things along nicely.

Samantha always held herself to a high standard, often one that she'd stress to meet, especially when working with the BAU. That was why she was currently trudging back to the hotel at 3 in the morning in the freezing cold, desperate for a hot shower after being in the fridge environment of the morgue all day.

When she'd said always wanted to visit Alaska, see the sights and beautiful landscapes, this was not how she'd pictured it.

She sighs heavily, feeling her way through the dark of her room, not even bothering with the lights before getting to the bathroom. The sound of the running water in the shower had already started on soothing her tense mood as she strips out of her layers of clothing and steps under the water.

She lets out an audible moan as the hot water  hits her goosebump ridden skin, burning away the cold. Running her fingers through her dampened hair, she reaches for the shampoo perched on the edge of the tub when disaster strikes.

There's a loud bang, and suddenly the water is icy. Sam shreiks, diving out of the stream and onto the floor of the bathroom.

"What the hell..." She mutters, finding a towel to wrap herself in while she inspects the water temperature gauge.

Broken. Great. There goes that.

Giving up on her shower, Sam heads out into the room and flicks on the lights.

Are you kidding me?

She thinks, laying eyes upon her water soaked bed. Pipe dripping above it. She wants to cry at this point. Throw something. Everything was ruined.

She throws on her clothes from the bathroom clothes, shoving the rest of her wet clothes back into the suitcase and makes for Aaron's room.

He'd still be up, that much was confirmed by the soft light coming from under the door of his room. She knocks, only waiting a second before he peaks out from behind the door, briefly scanning her dampened form before he frowns and opens the door with a barage of questions.

"Sam? What happened? Are you okay?"

She huffs, as he reaches out to her shoulder and guides her into the room. The warm light of the lamps illuminated her expression as she finally breaks.

"Stupid water pipe burst...and now I'm wet and cold and all my clothes are ruined. Everything's ruined!"

Hotch stands there a moment, quiet as he mentally compares her outburst to one of Jack's overtired tantrums. He quickly adjusts from concerned profiler to caring friend, taking her shoulders and steering her to the small couch in the corner. He sits, putting a comforting arm around her, speaking softly.

"Hey, hey. It's okay. You can stay here, use my shower and I'll make you some hot chocolate, alright?"

She nods, sniffling as she wipes her eyes with her sleeve.

"And we can get your clothes dried tomorrow, yeah?"

"Mhm"

She nods again, realising maybe it wasn't as bad as it felt. She watches him stand and go to rummage through his own suitcase and pull out a t-shirt and boxers.

"Here. Go shower and put these on."

She scurries into his bathroom to warm up, leaving Aaron to start on the hot drink. Ten minutes later, she steps out the bathroom, warmer and dressed. She welcomes the steaming mug of chocolatey goodness into her hands.

"Better?"

Aaron asks, a small smile of amusement gracing his tired face as he watches her sip the drink perched on the bottom of the bed in his clothes.

"Yes thank you"

A moment of silence passes between them before she speaks up, a little apologetic look in her eyes.

"I'm...sorry if I disturbed you..."

He's already shaking his head before she can  finish.

"It's fine. I was awake anyway."

And I couldn't sleep till I knew you were back.

They sit in the comfortable quiet that they both enjoy. Sam drinking and Hotch finishing up what paperwork he'd been working on too late into the night. He tries to cover the yawn coming subtly, but Sam had already clocked it. It was her turn to parent.

"Aaron, you need to go to sleep."

Hotch looks up from his laptop, raising an eyebrow at the use of his name. Sam was the only one who didn't call him Hotch. Usually he'd hate it, but something about her voice, her accent, made it sound nice.

"I will, just as soon as you're done."

He watches her throw back the last of the drink in response, a little smile spreading on his face.

"There. I'm done"

"I see that."

He shuts the laptop, climbing into bed opposite her as she pulls the covers up to her nose. He lets out a huff of amusement.

"Can you...hold me?"

Sam's request lingers in the air a moment as Aaron stops breathing. He can't help but be taken aback by the sudden request, he blinks a few times under the cover of darkness.

"Hold you?" He repeats, trying to process the request. "Are...are you sure?"

"You can say no...i just have this weighted blanket at home, helps me sleep."

His heart softens at her vulnerability,

"No, it's okay. Come here" He says gently, opening his arms to her.

"Thank you"

She says quietly, shuffling closer to him and pressing her back to his chest. The warmth of him already beginning to seep into her own body. Aaron inhales sharply at the sudden feel of her cold body against his.

"Jesus christ Sammy, you're freezing"

"Sorry..."

He lets out a breathy chuckle, allowing himself the small comfort of burying his nose in her sweet smelling hair as he wraps his arms around her, pulling her into the warm embrace. Sam sighs, the tension in her body leaving as she warms up.

It isn't long before they're both out for the count, slipping into a blissful sleep, no sound to disturb them, save for Aaron's painfully early alarm.

"Aaron..." she groans, nudging his arm around her till he stirs, tightening his hold on her. She tries again.

"Aaron, your alarm"

He mutters something, half turning over and smacks at the bedside table till he finds the alarm clock, then turns back over and pulls her back into his hold.

She wants to protest, the punctual voice in her head complaining. But it's the best sleep she's had since they'd left Quantico. And he's warm. So very, very warm...

Every one of his exhales tickling the nape of her neck, his inhales full of the scent of her hair.

He doesn't want to let her go. He's pined after her behind professional and courteous boundaries for this long. Ten more minutes of holding onto her wouldn't hurt.

"Sammy..."

As her name passes his lips, he wonders if it really is the time to ask the question he's been

asking over and over in his head.

"I've been thinking...about us."

He swallows nervously behind her as she nods, signalling for him to continue.

"We're close friends and...I care alot about you. But I have this selfish thought, that wants more than that. And I want to know if that's something you want to..."

Sam shifts, rolling over to face him. Her face layered with wide eyed surprise, softening to a small smile, freckled cheeks filling with a pink dusting of blush.

"I do... I do feel the same."

His heart swells with a mix of joy and relief at the admission. His face breaking out into a smile to match Sam's as he reaches to tuck a strand of loose hair behind her ear, fingers lingering at the end.

He lets out a breath he hadn't realised he'd been holding, any tension he held seeps away.

"Sam...you have no idea how happy that makes me. I was worried-"

"-I was worried that you didn't feel that way about me"

Sam laughs softly, finishing his sentence with her own thoughts. He chuckles, still fiddling with her strand of her hair.

"Believe me, I was trying to keep my feelings in check...but being here with you...it's just..."

He trails off, unsure of how to put these unfamiliar feelings into words, leaning closer to press his forehead to hers.

"I've wanted this...Us for so long."

She smiles, the tip of her nose brushing his affectionately. They're finally able to see and feel what the other's heart holds.

His hand drifts up to her cheek, thumb running over her cheek as he whispers in a hoarse, emotional voice.

"I...I really want to kiss you right now..."

Her smile grows at the thought, whispering back.

"I'd like it if you did"

Aaron guides her lips to meet his in a soft, gentle kiss. It's tender, sweet, full of every held back emotion they've both had for so long. Both their hearts soaring as their lips lingers together as they pull away, then go back for another. And another.

When they're too breathless to do anymore, they pull back and rest their foreheads together again, settling in the new-found intimacy. His fingers comb through her hair, the gesture soothing them both as Aaron grins widely at Sam.

"I've wanted to do that for such a long time..."

[hitmeupaep]

dean 10000% has confessed his love to cas in the shower

[divinemackerel]

Also on the topic of the Player getting sucked into a game. Thats my favorite headcanon, because its so like, weird but fun and makes sense for the hand thing. I like the idea though that it specifically happened during the ambush.

There’s something viscerally horrifying about just playing a game, but then feeling an actual fist punch you in the dark. The lights go out and the Player, “Gordon,” reaches to remove their headset to see if it broke, but just as their fingers brush the edge of the space where it should be, a punch hits them.

Fucked up. 10/10 horror. Local man trapped in a videogame streaming for 30 hours or something. Make that dilf (temporarily) lose his hand.

[ana-rends]

i would rather live with ana for the rest of my life than binge like this ever again

[toomanywordsnllines]

Being a little angsty here but...

Thinking about how Soap probably uses rain to cry and hide his tears, it's not like anyone can see the difference. And during rainy days everyone is inside so...

I gave myself emotional damage thinking about this so... I shall share it too! :'D

[mydemonsdrivealimo]

yes i am emotional over bryce and jensen going from a loud excitable christmas party to sitting quietly on their living room floor playing a holiday board game or building legos or doing a puzzle

[trashyandtiredsol]

The jist of my fainting experience in the tags here!! Long as hell

Feel free to tell me more about it

[writersdrug]

Simon "Ghost" Riley is the kind of man who:

In your shared home, always sits with his legs spread. Manspreading king. Adores it when you cross your arms and give him a disapproving look, saying there's no room for you. "Course there is, luv. Jus' sit between my thighs."

Refuses to let you do simple tasks around the house, like making tea, folding his underwear, or putting away the dishes. One might think it's a sweet, husbandly gesture - but he's just super picky. You made tea in the microwave once, and now you're banned from ever touching his tea stash. Likes his underwear folded in a specific way, and you don't understand the importance of it. He got tired of you stuffing his underwear in his drawer, so now he folds it himself. And the dishes? Couldn't stand how you put them away. "There's no rhyme or reason to 'em." "I didn't think there had to be, Si-" "Just gimme the damn bowl." Fewer chores? You aren't complaining.

Looks like he's always on edge - and he is, kinda. When he's out with you, he can't help but be alert and watchful, and extremely protective of you. You've tried to get him to loosen up - it's the supermarket, what could happen? - but have just come to accept it as his nature. Plus, you get that giddy feeling when you see other men look straight down at the floor, avoiding Simon's stare as the two of you pass.

Is the grumpiest, poutiest, and most indignant man ever when he gets sick. Doesn't want you doting on him in case you catch whatever he has. But, wait - where are you going? "Get your ass back in this bed - 'm cold." Grumbles like a child when you force him to let you get up to grab him soup, tea, or medicine. And no, he doesn't care how sick he is, he's not wearing that stupid, floppy ice pack hat.

Brings Johnny over unannounced, and you've grown used to it. The moment you hear that Scottish yapping out the front door as the key unlocks, you grab a third plate for dinner - he insists you don't need to feed him, but you always make extra for Simon's lunch the next day regardless, and the last time he'd said that, he ended up grabbing an extra fork and picking from Simon's plate. Which, of course, had Simon up at 1 am making instant ramen because he was still hungry, but didn't have the heart to ask you to make him a decent meal. So, yes, Johnny would be fed.

Loves spoiling you on your birthday. What is a man if not someone who spoils his partner rotten? Orders in food from your favorite bakery, sets all your presents neat and nice on the table (the excellent wrapping job done by yours truly, Gaz), flower petals sprinkled on the ground and the table top (also Gaz's idea), and a seat on his lap so for you while you open your presents. Loves watching your face light up, and each little "you remembered?!" fall from your lips as you open each gift. Scoffs and shifts in his seat. "I's not that much of a fuss, luv..." as you squeal excitedly, but you know he's biting back a proud smile. The blush, he can't even attempt to hide.

Is somehow a magnet for your young nephews. Every time he comes along to your sister's place, he's either making conversation with her husband in the living room, or he's interrogated and cornered by her two sons. And, lord help him, he doesn't understand it either. He'd always expected kids to look at him like a monster, but, especially with these two, that was never the case. They'd ask him for stories about "being in war" - half of the time, he'd make up some not-too-gory adventure, sparing them the details of real war. The rest of the time, he'd talk about "Soap, my mate who blows everything up." And they'd listen with wide eyes and jaws on the floor.

Has scared you unintentionally, more than too many times. He'd come home at three in the morning from a mission, and all he wanted was to quietly peel his dirty uniform off and slip into bed with you. His main intention was to avoid waking you up, because you'd force him to shower before joining you in bed - and he was too tired for that. However, you'd been rounding the corner, up for your 3 am glass of water - you screamed as you saw the hulking, dark figure by the front door, launching your phone at him. He'd caught it effortlessly and shoved it into his back pocket. "What've I told ya 'bout using the bat?" "I was just getting water!" "I coulda been anyone." "Well you're not." "Missed ya, luvie." "Missed you too- but you're grimy. Go take a-" "No." He grabbed you and threw you over his shoulder, ignoring your protests as he hauled you back to bed.