#and my endless stream of jobs

[bougainvilea]

tw suicide mention & also cancer mention in the tags

[demilypyro]

Quarantine was a bad time for everybody, so far be it from me to imply I had it worse than anybody else. But man.

I was 3 years into college.... and I could tell it wasn't working. Grades were getting worse, assignments were late, internship opportunities were looking dire. I was all set to become a failure. I was gonna flunk out, and unless I found a job, my dad was eventually gonna kick me out onto the street. But I got lucky. Quarantine hit. The world went on pause. I had an excuse. I had time. I could find a solution, and work my ass off to push it through.

I started streaming full time almost immediately when quarantine went into effect. Mostly out of desperation. If I couldn't make this work. If I couldn't take advantage of the meager audience I'd amassed by spending my entire teen years shitposting... I didn't have a plan C. So there I was, for four years. In that room. As much as I could, as much as my health would allow, I'd be streaming. That tiny room, not even 80 square feet, with a single, tiny window. That was my entire world for those four years.

After a year and a half, it felt like I'd made it. I was making money. I was saving money. Deciding to stick with streaming, I formally quit college, and started looking for my own place..... It took me almost two years find one. The housing market was in the shitter. There were few addresses available, and prices were high. And nobody was interested in renting an apartment to some nobody with no degree and almost no provable work history. The only thing I could do was keep trying. Keep working. My income was all there: I was registered with the chamber of commerce so I was legally a self-owned company. I had a stable income. I just needed more time to prove it. It had to go through the system. It had to look stable. I had to look reliable.

Those last two years, I felt so hopeless, all the time. I had no idea when I would finally get lucky and find a place to live. No idea when I'd finally be able to be someone. No idea when I would finally get away from my dad, who I was fighting with more and more. Every time I went to a place for an interview but didn't hear back afterward, I felt crushed. Every time I would get depressed and become sick. As long as I was living with my dad, I didn't have any future to look forward to. Four birthdays had passed since quarantine started. My body was growing older, but I wasn't moving forward. It seemed endless.

That tiny room was all that existed. I had the feeling I would die there. It was my coffin.

It's been six months now, since I moved out. I'm very happy with my apartment. It's pretty large. At least five or six times larger than that room I spent those years in. I have a large bed. I have a large corner where I work. Work is going pretty well. I'm going out more. I'm trying to find out who I am. My therapist says I'm doing very well.

I never want to be in that room again.

[kodeeffa]

Keep eating for me

You know you can’t help yourself. Why try and fight it. You know I love watching your body fill out. Each stretch mark a testament to your gluttony. A new piece of you for me to trace with my fingers. I want more of you to play with and rub. I can’t get enough of your soft belly and thick love handles. Sure nothing fits anymore but do you really need to go out if all the food is brought to your bedside? Let me get you comfy and provide the endless stream of calorie rich snacks and meals. Life is better when you let me take care of all the thinking and complicated thoughts. Your only job is to eat, baby.

[sinstear]

౨ৎ tender and careful abby who takes care of you to the best of her capabilities when she wakes up one day to find you with hair sticking to your sweaty forehead, constantly sniffling and wiping your nose with an endless stream of tissues, looking at her on the verge of bursting into tears. she knows you hate getting sick. knows that you feel completely useless when you get in that much pain, you can’t move. it takes her over 30 minutes to even get out of bed, each time, when you fall ill. clinging onto her arm, weakly mumbling not to leave into her shoulder, and while she doesn’t want to, she has to, to be able to get everything you need. always leaning down and kissing your forehead, leaving her lips resting against your skin for a couple more seconds, frowning at the obvious rise in temperature on your forehead, blatantly ignoring your whines about her needing to stay away from you for a few days until you get better. simply getting out of bed with a grumbled “you being sick won’t stop me kissing you, now, shut up and wait here” knowing damn well you can’t exactly get up. 

౨ৎ tender and careful abby who spends almost a full hour in the kitchen making you some honey tea and soup, soup that she knows you don’t normally eat when you’re not sick, but will eat gracefully when you are. her body moves quickly as she reaches over the counter and grabs one of the lap trays she bought for you the last time you had gotten sick, and carefully places the bowl of hot soup with the tea gently, not scolding herself in the process. something she does quite a lot. eyeing up the candy drawer, abby looked back over at the bedroom door, back to the drawer, and dropped her head between her shoulders slightly. it wasn’t that you weren’t allowed chocolate, you were and abby knew that. but it always made her feel worse because when you got colds, or sick in general, you couldn’t taste the food, and sweet treats like you could, but regardless, your girlfriend shrugged, opened the drawer and snatched a few bars of chocolate, and a bag of candy before placing them on the tray too. 

you were still slumped under the covers and blankets when abby appeared in the bedroom. finally. the messy bun she let you do last night, won’t admit she loved it, but you know, now even more messy. strands of hair stuck to her now sweaty forehead, this is what rushing around to make sure her girl has everything does to her.

wiggling her eyebrows at you when she makes her way to the side of the bed, places the tray on the nightstand, and carefully places the back of her hand on your forehead, pulling it away instantly when she feels just how high your temperature has gone up since she left. “s’not good baby, we need to bring it down, yeah?” she mumbled, handing you the mug of tea carefully. “drink that, then eat your soup. i brought you some chocolate, and before you say anything, yes i know you can’t taste it when you’re sick, but it’s there in case” abby trailed off, waving her hands everywhere while you simply giggled behind the mug of honey tea.

“thank you, abs. always taking care of me” you whispered, almost like a secret between you both.

“it’s my job, yeah? and you always take care of me when i get sick. we take care of each other.” the blonde smiled, holding out yet another item towards you.

a damp washcloth.

“what’s this for?” you grumbled, looking at the wet cloth like it personally offended you. taking it from her hands carefully, placing it on your forehead nonetheless, and sniffling quietly.

“for your temperature, you’re too hot” abby laughed like it was the most obvious thing in the world. 

“you told me that 3 days ago” 

“well, you’re hotter today because you’re sick”

“so you’re telling me i’m not hot when i’m not sick?”

“baby, love of my life,” abby paused to laugh again and shake her head at you. “you are always hot”

“even now?”

“yes, even now. very hot, especially with your blocked nose and wheezy coughs. s’cute when you suddenly sound like a cute duck” your girlfriend winked, disappearing into the bathroom before you could blink. 

quickly gasping in realization at her choice of words.

“abigail anderson, you did not just refer to my coughing as a duck!” 

“i love you!” she laughed from the bathroom.

“yeah, yeah. i love you too” you couldn’t help but smile.

tender and careful abby always being there to take care of you.

[val-made-a-mistake]

Currently imagining a scenario where you and Eddie have some sort of split custody arrangement for Venom, and you have some sort of NSFW dream about Eddie, and Venom sees the whole thing because of brain link or whatever, and then shares this exciting development with Eddie the next time he's bonded to Venom

venom is definitely not one to keep a secret, for sure 😭 thank you so much for your request, i hope you enjoy. :) smut-wise, it's a bit more focused on eddie than my previous fics where it was either symbiote-focused or an even split, hope that's okay. this was SO much fun to write!

warnings: brief smut, mentions of oral f receiving, mentions of "striking" the reader but it's totally a misunderstanding, loneliness, mentions of eating people/murder

word count: 3.3k

//////

It had been six days since Eddie had left for Seattle, and honestly, you hadn’t been expecting to fall into this loneliness so quickly. Venom might have been keeping you company by providing you with an endless stream of commentary in your inner conscience, and the chickens were constantly squawking and squabbling and wandering the length of the apartment as per usual, so it wasn’t like the space was totally silent, but still, Eddie’s absence was more saddening than you thought it would be. Over the course of the six days, you struggled to busy yourself. Of course you preferred Eddie having a job as to being without one, but one thing you particularly hated was how vague investigative jobs were, so as a result, you had no idea when he would come back or how long the work would take to be done.

For the time being, it looked like you were stuck here.

Before he’d left, Eddie had asked you to babysit Venom and his apartment, and now that you’d been here for an extended amount of time, you felt horribly restless.

Feeling the weight of the quiet apartment settling in, you cast a glance around the room. The hum of the refrigerator seemed to amplify in the sort-of silence, and you found yourself drawn to staring at Eddie's belongings scattered around.

Your gaze fell on a framed photograph on the shelf – Eddie with a carefree grin, arm slung around your shoulders. The memories flooded back, and a bittersweet smile touched your lips.

As if sensing your thoughts, Venom's voice rumbled in your mind.

EDDIE IS DEFINITELY MISSING OUT WITHOUT US AROUND.

The symbiote's attempt at comfort was appreciated, but it only deepened your sense of solitude.

Sighing you folded yourself into a ball on the couch, tucking your chin into your knees. The TV in front of you was off, and you had no intention to turn it on. For now, it was okay to mull in the quiet.

You mumbled into your knees, “What do you think he's up to in Seattle?" 

CATCHING BAD GUYS. KICKING BUTT. EATING SEATTLE FOOD. ZOOMING AROUND. ACTING PATHETIC WITHOUT US THERE.

“V, you and I don’t know anything about investigative journalism,” you put in gently.

Venom was, of course, offended.

I KNOW A LOT ABOUT EATING BAD GUYS!

“Yeah, but Eddie won’t let you eat bad guys in Seattle any more than he does here.”

It was at that moment that Venom popped out from your shoulder blade, miniature head scowling.

HE SHOULD!

“Wanna go get a bite to eat?” you interjected, effectively ending the conversation. “I’ll even let you drive, if you want.”

Venom grinned much too wide for his intentions to be anything but nefarious, so you quickly added, “No eating people.”

You turned fast and pointed to the pizza box sign in the kitchen. “Eddie might not be here, but that rule’s definitely still active while you’re in my body, okay?”

Venom, for lack of a better word with his gaping mouth full of super-sized fangs, pouted.

YOU ARE NO FUN!

I just don’t want to be involved in any murder, you wanted to say, but slimy, black, glittering goo was already wrapping and contorting around your middle. Venom was enveloping you, taking over.

It was a bit of an unpleasant sensation as Venom’s monstrous gooey head locked into place over where yours used to be, and rows of impressive fangs unfolded in your suddenly super-sized mouth. It felt like somebody had cracked an egg over your head and the yolk was dripping down your body. You weren’t sure if you’d ever get used to it. You had no idea how Eddie put up with it.

For how quickly his annoyance started, Venom seemed to get over it pretty quickly. He grinned and licked his lips.

I WOULD LIKE TO GO TO MCDONALDS.

//////

The room was shrouded in the quiet stillness of the night. The dim glow of a bedside lamp cast a warm pool of light on the walls, creating a cozy haven within the four corners of Eddie’s bedroom. You were in bed. Venom, for the first time that day, was quiet.

Under the soft blanket, your eyelids were growing heavy with the weight of the day's endeavours. You still missed Eddie, a lot, so much that your nightly FaceTime call almost wasn’t enough. Seeing his face on your laptop screen was just a further reminder of how far two states away felt, and how binded you felt to him since you met him — he pulled at you without even realizing it, like you’d been sewn together with invisible thread.

Hopefully he wouldn’t be in Seattle for too much longer.

The rhythmic ticking of the clock on the wall seemed to synchronize with the slowing pace of your breath. As the minutes ticked away, you found yourself on the threshold of the dream world, caught between wakefulness and the gentle pull of slumber. Not even the distant murmur of passing cars was enough to distract you now.

Closing your eyes, you surrendered to the sensation of falling asleep, gently gliding down into the abyss of dreams. Eddie’s bedroom, once familiar and defined, now blurred at the edges, transforming into a surreal landscape of colours and shapes.

As you drifted further into the realms of slumber, a sensation of weightlessness enveloped you. It was as if you were floating on a sea of tranquility, carried away by the ebb and flow of your own breath. The boundaries between reality and imagination began to dissolve, and the world outside melted.

//////

Sometime between now and then, you’d ended up bent over in Eddie’s lap, on a couch that felt just like his couch, but was ambiguous enough that it could’ve been anywhere. Things were slightly blurry around the edges, surreal enough to have you breathless, but real enough that you weren’t questioning your surroundings.

“Holy shit,” Eddie breathed as he tilted his head, carefully examining the swelling ass on his lap. Your pussy was dripping, there was a dribble of arousal forming, but in all honesty, he was a little scared to touch you, he didn’t want to hurt you. “I don’t think I’m getting a finger in there, girl. Wow.”

“Luckily, I’m not that fragile,” you responded playfully as you arched your back for him. Eddie bit his lip as this only accentuated the curve of your ass.

“God,” he whispered as he ran a hand up your thigh: he was able to break them apart easily, and he pulled one leg over his lap, wedging you firmly between his legs.

Even though you were already soaking wet, Eddie’s fingers ran over your dripping slit for a moment, as if he were admiring the way your pussy fluttered at his touch in front of him.

God, you could just feel how wet you were, and you bit your lip, anticipating for Eddie to lean forward, and—

Y/N!!!

In an instant you’d jumped awake: you’d sprang to attention without really realizing how you’d done it, scrambling for the lamp. “What’s going on?”

Venom was protruding from your shoulderblade again, bouncing even more than normal, very clearly in extreme distress.

SWEET GIRL. WE ARE RECEIVING VISIONS.

You stifled your yawn with your hand. “V, do you mean, like - like a dream?”

WE ARE RECEIVING VISIONS! RECEIVING VISIONS OF EDDIE EATING YOU! THIS IS VERY SERIOUS! WE NEED TO KEEP YOU SAFE!

Your cheeks instantly warmed, and you froze, scrambling for something to say. “Oh - oh, shit, Venom - that - I’m so sorry, but I really don’t think that was what you think it was.”

HE WAS STRIKING YOU! Venom snapped.

Oh my god. He really saw all of that.

You reached for the water bottle on your nightstand. “V, you seriously don’t need to worry about this. It wasn’t real. It was a dream. Nothing bad will come from it."

Venom was, of course, still hysterical.

IT WAS A PROPHECY! THIS IS BAD!

I wouldn’t mind if it was a prophecy, you thought selfishly before you could stop yourself, but you shoved it down. “Everything’s alright, Venom. Okay? Everything's fine. Let’s just go back to bed.”

I WILL NOT APOLOGIZE FOR CARING ABOUT YOU, Y/N.

You were already sliding back under the blanket. “I’m not asking you to, V. I appreciate it.”

You hesitated.

“Just, uh, next time you’re bonded to Eddie, please don’t tell him about this, okay? It could make him - I don't know, uncomfortable. You know, I - I don’t know how he’d react to the prophecy of him supposedly hurting me, that’s all. I don’t want to worry him.”

(You were hoping wildly that he would accept, and you and Venom would never talk about this again.)

In a move you’d never seen before, Venom raised one gloopy, black tentacle towards you, and recognizing the movement, you extended your pinky towards him. Your pinky and the black goo linked together for a moment, signifying your trust.

Venom grinned, now bouncing significantly less.

I NEVER BREAK A PINKY PROMISE, SWEET GIRL.

You raised your eyebrow.

I TRY NOT TO.

You were much too tired for any of this, you simply turned over to switch off the lamp and finally return to whatever remnants of that dream was left. “Okay then. Goodnight, V.”

//////

It was satisfying to have everything fall back into the natural order once Eddie returned home from Seattle. You returned to your own apartment on the opposite side of town, but of course visited frequently, and Eddie was grateful to be back in a low-stakes environment once more, with a snarky symbiote that would terrify anyone who would try to harm him. Seattle had been thrilling, and he'd recounted the adventure to you several times, but now he was back to something familiar.

The job was done. He was covered for the time being. Freelancing was difficult, but for now, everything would be okay.

In the intervening time, Venom talked about you, a lot. Ever since he met you, he’d taken to mentioning you. But ever since you’d agreed to split custody of the symbiote, and especially since Eddie had disappeared for Seattle, he was talking about you even more.

I AM WORRIED ABOUT Y/N, he said one day.

Eddie was idly clicking through TV channels, watching everything from the news to a police drama to a basketball game zoom past, finding none of them interesting. “Why?”

I DO NOT WANT ANY BAD OMENS TO BE FOLLOWING HER. WE NEED TO KEEP HER SAFE.

“What makes you say that?” he asked, a bit confused.

Venom suddenly popped out of his shoulder, howling.

SHE - SHE HAS -

Before Venom could get any actual words out, Eddie was lifted from the couch as the symbiote rose and slammed his head into the ceiling, denting it severely and sending bits of drywall raining down from the heavens like it was a form of self-punishment.

As quickly as it started, Eddie had been dropped on the couch, red in the face and gasping for air.

Venom hardly noticed: he seemed to be in extreme distress.

I WAS NOT SUPPOSED TO TELL!

Eddie put a hand to his throat, still sweaty and gasping, forcing an inhale. “V - what?”

Venom was beside himself, now.

Y/N IS RECEIVING VISIONS! VISIONS OF YOU!

"Visions? What do you mean, visions of me?" Eddie asked, his concern deepening. Suddenly, he wasn’t feeling half-strangled anymore. His mind was racing, his thoughts a jumble of confusion and worry. "What kind of visions? Is she in danger?" 

He couldn't fathom what could be causing you to have distressing dreams about him.

Right after Seattle? Right after he thought the work was finished?

I DO NOT KNOW. BUT WE MUST PROTECT HER.

Without waiting for further response, Venom oozed off Eddie's shoulder and began slithering around the room, agitated.

Eddie remained on the couch, trying to process this information. "If something's going on, then we need to talk to her, right? Figure out what's happening."

I AGREE. SHE IS PART OF US, AND WE WILL NOT LET ANY HARM BEFALL HER.

He paused, awkwardly.

BUT PLEASE LET HER KNOW I AM SORRY. I WAS NOT SUPPOSED TO SHARE THIS WITH YOU, EDDIE. SHE SAYS SHE DOES NOT WANT TO WORRY YOU. SHE DOES NOT SHARE THE SAME CONCERN I HAVE.

It didn’t matter: Eddie was already grabbing his phone and dialling your number, fingers tapping nervously against his screen.

After a few tense rings, you picked up.

“Hey, Eddie!”

"Hey, we need to talk," Eddie said urgently, glancing at Venom, who was now wrapping himself around the coffee table, sticky and pulsating, in deep despair.

Concern filled your voice. "Is everything okay?"

“Oh, I mean, yeah, right now it is,” he responded wildly, vaguely aiming for nonchalant. “I was just talking to V, you know, and he said something, and - I just kinda wanted to call, y’know, see if you were alright-”

“Oh, I'm fine,” you confirmed, but you still sounded confused. “I don’t have anything going on today, so I’m just spending some time to myself. What did V tell you?”

Across from Eddie, Venom moaned in despair, a mere gooey black glob of depression on his sitting room floor.

SWEET GIRL, I AM SORRY!

“He said you were getting some disturbing visions, and not gonna lie, it kinda freaked me out a bit,” Eddie said sheepishly, hoping you hadn’t heard that. “I just wanted to call and see if you were okay, that’s all. I know this is random. Sorry. Just, with the nature of the last case, y’know, up in Seattle-”

It didn’t take long before he realized he was rambling again about the Seattle case, so he stopped. “Sorry.”

"No, it's okay."

There was a pause on the other end of the line, then a sigh.

Of course this was happening.

“Eddie, there’s been a misunderstanding,” you said. “Just, look - do you mind coming over? I’ll explain everything to you once you’re here. This might be better in person.”

Eddie was on his feet in an instant. “Sure, yeah.”

//////

Eddie rushed through the city streets, a mixture of worry and curiosity gnawing at him. Venom was bonded to him again, because he’d rather not think about the consequences of a depressed Venom lingering around the apartment while he was out, and the symbiote seemed to writhe within him with impatience. Or maybe that was just the motorbike rumbling underneath him. Whichever it was, he felt nauseous.

The symbiote had a tendency to jump to conclusions, but Eddie definitely couldn't shake the unease that settled in his gut.

Upon arriving at your apartment, Eddie knocked hastily.

To his surprise, you opened the door with a small smile.

"Hey," you greeted, ushering him inside. "Thanks for coming over."

Eddie nodded, glancing around your living room as if expecting something unusual. Venom, still on edge, clung within him like a sentient black backpack.

He didn’t want to come off as too eager, or too worried, so he just shoved his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket and hoped he looked casual despite the storm of questions brewing inside of him.

“So - what’s the deal?”

Deep inside of him, Venom was quivering with fright. As his gooey molecular form had to be closely intertwined with several of his most important organs right now, it was very hard not to notice the sensation.

You winced. “He’s just freaking out about nothing. There’s no bad omens or visions. I just had a dream, and you were in it. Simple stuff. Nothing to worry about.”

“It wasn’t a bad dream?” Eddie said, cautious.

You were definitely closer, now. “Actually, I’d say it was a pretty damn good dream.”

Eddie’s breath was caught in his throat. Out of everything that could’ve happened tonight, he definitely hadn’t been expecting…this.

He was a little confused, honestly. What was going on? The hairs on the back of his neck were raised, but he didn't feel as though he was in danger. On the contrary, he felt quite warm.

“Let me show you?” you offered.

"Okay," he bit out before he was conscious of making the decision, and you were stepping in front of him, and realizing, he closed his eyes on instinct--

The kiss that followed was absolutely dizzying.

There was something so particularly desperate about this: you were kissing, gasping against his mouth and pulling at his jacket, which made the two of you blindly scramble backwards into the apartment, messy and needy. The kiss quickly turned into a battle of control, with Eddie being the one to guide you forward, his hands on your hips. You bit his bottom lip in response, forcing him to open up and then the kiss was all about tongues, wet and sensitive.

You were on the couch when you finally broke apart, gasping.

"Baby," Eddie wheezed, his eyes darting across your face in disbelief, "I - what was that?"

"Is V with you?" you asked, instead of answering the question.

He was apprehensive now. "Yeah?"

"He needs to know I'm not in danger," you whispered, and you leaned forward to kiss him again.

It was much too chaste, and after you pulled away, Eddie was in mute astonishment for a moment.

His voice was scratchy when he spoke. "Disturbing visions, huh?"

You just smiled. "In my dream, we were on a couch, like this."

Eddie still couldn't believe this was happening. The anxiety in his gut on the way over had been completely forgotten now, blurring out of his memory, the future was an impossible thing, there was just this. This was all he had; this was all he wanted. "Were we, now?"

He didn't know what to do, but that didn't seem to matter, you were leading.

You nodded. "It was kinda hot."

"Kinda?" Eddie repeated dumbly, breathless. His voice sounded like a stranger's.

Before he could embarrass himself, Venom's voice rumbled within him, frustrated.

EDDIE, STOP BEING A PUSSY!

Wondering vaguely if this had been a trap all along, Eddie grabbed the nape of your neck and pulled you in for a kiss. Your mouths roved together, and he took the opportunity to pull you over, closer to him. The curve of your bare spine was warm from under your sweater. He kept his hand there, roaming carelessly, drifting up to the clasp of your bra.

You seemed to get what he was going for, and then suddenly you were straddling him, and with you on top of him, he could no longer ignore how interested his dick was in the proceedings.

Slightly, just slightly, you rolled your hips against his clothed crotch, and Eddie choked out a moan.

Oh, fuck. He could feel the sweat materializing and running down his back. This was better than good.

(Venom was definitely going to tease him about this later.)

"What happened next?" Eddie mumbled, looking up at you, his eyes blown black.

You smiled, then crossed your arms and peeled off your sweater. Eddie shifted his grip, holding you by the hips again, and you tossed your sweater elsewhere.

Venom was going absolutely insane from inside him: it felt like he was rumbling somewhere around his large intestine.

DO NOT MESS THIS UP, EDDIE!

Meanwhile, you were, of course, oblivious to the commentary in Eddie's mind.

"I mean," you said, and your voice wasn't smoky like it had been before. It was just curious, with a note of teasing, like this was an everyday conversation. "You ate me out."

He pressed a light kiss to your throat. "Then flip over, baby."

Inside his head, Venom seemed to be having some kind of meltdown. Maybe he had just realized what the dream was. Maybe he was jealous. Either way, he was rambling in Eddie's mind.

SWEET GIRL - SO FRAGILE - SO SWEET - SO DELICIOUS - I NEED TO TASTE -

[ohimsummer]

A GOD’S HEIR

— minors dni, cult leader! suguru, non-sorcerer! + f! reader, exhibitionism/voyeurism, creampie, breeding kink, light blood mentions, some manipulation, prob some form of blasphemy (suguru kinda has a god complex), kind of proofread? :D

deafening silence. despite the room being completely full of people, not a single word from them is dare uttered. it’s an act of respect to the downright vulgar display taking place on stage.

loud, obscene moans seep from your lips and echo off the walls to grace his followers’ ears. the brutal sound of smacks, derived from slick and sweaty skin as the feral slams of his pelvis meet your ass. a stream of tears muddles your vision. all you can make out is the vague forms of your leader’s bowed followers before him.

geto was such a nice soul, kind and caring enough to put down a mat so your poor face wouldn’t get chafed on the floor. you couldn’t necessarily say the same about his treatment of the rest of your body—how his fingers burrow into the skin of your hips, manhandling you back and forth to slam onto the massive girth of his cock. his other hand holds a fistful of your hair to smother your face into the thin pad of fabric, tightening ever so often to tug painfully at the strands. a smear of blood is painted across your lips, oozing from where he sank his teeth into you during the kiss.

the way geto bullies his length inside of you is overwhelming, to say the least. he stretches you out until it’s almost unbearable, flushed tip battering that delicious spot that threatens to make you black out. you can feel the messiness between where you two meet. the sheer amounts of slick and cum dripping down your thighs.

“sh— shit.” you hear him curse under his breath, tell-tale throbbing of his dick signaling he’s close to another orgasm, one which you were born to accept gratefully.

despite geto’s roughness, and his never ending generosity, giving you so much that you can barely handle it, you will take it all with open arms. he is a god— that much is evident without his heavy reminders to you and the other plebians occupying his sanctuary. recently, he has made a decision: to so graciously bless you of all people to birth his heir from your ordinary body. the thought makes you giddy. though it will be a hard job, who are you to say no to a god?

geto presses his hips flush against yours, and you are once again flooded with endless streams of his seed. you’re far past thoroughly bred at this point, poor pussy gushing with the results of his hard labor.

he looks up to glance around the room again. no one has moved a muscle since this whole thing started, both out of respect and fear for their lives. geto just catches someone’s eyes dart back to the floor, a bold move that he’ll kill them for later because how dare they even think they’re worthy enough to look at you two, at this euphoria-driven process to create his next-in-line. their disgusting gaze is a plague on the whole scene. it taints it, ruins it like blood in water. it leaves a bad taste on his tongue. one that can only be alleviated by stuffing you full again. and again and again and again, until the worthless souls around him are sufficiently reminded of their place beneath the two of you.

💫: @staryukis @teddybeartoji @anthoosies @bubblez-blop @deepenthevoid @domainexpansionmypants @luvvmae @starlightanyaaa @soraya-daydreams @apatauaia @b-b-b-my-b-f-f @getouolgy @sataraxia @leilalilox @babytoshiii @sugu-love @akumicchi @sugojosgf @k-cris @triviahct @reiluvr @venzlenes @lovesickliyue

[holylulusworld]

How to cure a grump (3)

Summary: You’re losing your job on Christmas.

Pairing: CEO/Boss!Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Warnings: angst, grumpy Bucky, awful boss, mistaken identity, kinda fake dating trope, snowed-in trope

How to cure a grump (2)

Tonight, you don’t get much sleep. You toss and turn in your bed, knowing your boss, the man costing you your job and future, is sleeping right next door.

How dare he come here to demand shit from you after kicking you out two days before Christmas! Mr. Rogers knew about the password and PIN. He could’ve easily told your boss about it.

“Wait! That bastard!” You sit up on your bed and curse loudly. They are friends. Maybe this is some sick game they are playing. “I won’t be the butt of their jokes!”

When you get out of bed, you push your feet into the Santa Claus-themed slippers your mom got you for Christmas last year. 

Looking down at your body, you chuckle as the shoes look so different from the high heels you wore for work. They look like Santa's face. They have a white, fluffy beard and mustache. A red Santa hat sits atop each slipper.

“Fuck it,” you mutter and storm toward the door. If Barnes wants to mess with you, he’ll pay for it.

You storm into the guest room without knocking, immediately switching the light on.

“What?” Bucky looks at you like a deer in the headlight. He sits on the bed, in nothing but his boxer briefs. While you try not to stare at his abs, muscular arms, or the prominent bulge in his pants, he’s less subtle.

Bucky looks you up and down in your red and white Christmas-themed pajama set. “Are you often wearing onesies?” He snorts. Bucky never spent time with a woman wearing anything but silky nightgowns, or only a smile for bed.

You’re wearing a long-sleeved pajamas onesie style, featuring a fair isle pattern with elves, snowmen, and Christmas trees on a red background with white accents.

You huff. “I didn’t know you hold power over me in the bedroom too. It’s soft and plush, and I don’t give a shit if you like it or not. I want to know why you are here! Is this a trick? Do you and Rogers want to make fun of me?”

“Rogers must’ve forgotten you left the password,” Bucky grunts while wildly gesturing toward you. “I talked to him, and he didn’t mention it. If I knew about it, I wouldn’t have come here to spend the night at a guestroom in the middle of nowhere instead of getting drunk on Barbados, two hot blondes in my arms.”

You wrinkle your nose. “Figures,” you huff. “I’ll call Walt. Maybe, he can help us get you to the airport so you can leave all the little ants working for you behind to spend an annual salary on your vacation!”

“Not my annual salary,” he dares to say. Bucky even smirks, and you lose your temper again. Right when he gets up from the bed to grab his pants, you jump into motion and tackle him to the ground. He yelps as you slap him across the face, once, twice, three times.

Bucky grabs your wrists in an attempt to stop you from hurting him.

“Munchkin is everything—” Your mother chuckles as she watches you sit on top of Bucky. “Oh, kids, I’m sorry. If only I knew you’re celebrating your reunion!” She closes the door behind her, leaving you and Bucky to your fight.

“Tomorrow morning you are gone, bastard,” you growl. “Now let go of me before I castrate you.”

He smirks. “Your mom believed we were having sex. Did you keep her awake often while you were still living here?”

“Says the man whore,” you wiggle in his grip, snarling as he won’t let go. “I’m not the one with an endless stream of women leaving my bedroom.”

“Not only my bedroom.” He still smirks when he finally releases your wrists.

You hurriedly get up and glare at him.

“I don’t care. In the morning, you’ll find a way to get out of my house, and my town. Use your money for something useful for once. And don’t contact me again! You are dead to me”

Slamming the door shut behind you, you huff. How can women fall for your asshole boss? You can’t believe they only see his pretty façade.

“Morning, lovebirds,” your mother chirps as you make your way into the kitchen. She’s humming Last Christmas while you are in a sour mood. Bucky Barnes has this effect on you. “Oh, where’s James?”

You take a deep breath, ready to tell your mother the truth. This is a serious case of mistaken identity. “Mom, uh—do you remember that I told you my boyfriend broke things up with me some time ago?”

“Of course, Munchkin,” she coos while flipping a pancake. “I’m all for second chances, Y/N. Maybe he finally realized how much you mean to him. But—” She points a knife in Bucky’s direction the moment he steps into the kitchen. “If he messes up again, I’ll castrate him!”

“Like mother, like daughter,” Bucky grumbles as he steps further into the room. “Good morning. Please don’t start the new day by castrating me.” He flashes your mom a stunning smile, earning a giggle.

“Oh, I was joking, James,” she says and goes back to preparing breakfast for a whole football team. “What do you like for breakfast? We have waffles, pancakes, bacon, and eggs, or French toast.”

“I usually only eat egg white.” Bucky pats his stomach, rubbing it. “I try to stay fit.”

“For the ladies,” you sarcastically say. “Mom, he won’t stay for breakfast. James will leave now and try to get a flight back to New York.”

“What? No! He must stay for breakfast,” she sniffles and uses her powerful puppy dog look to make your resolve to kick your former boss out crumble. “What about the Christmas dinner? I already planned everything. I was awake all night!”

“Mom,” you sigh. “He needs to take care of business.” It’s not a complete lie. Bucky wants to take care of a few things back in New York. “Do you think we can make it to the airport?”

“No,” she pouts before taking a large bite from one of the waffles. You watch her chew slowly before speaking again. “The streets aren’t the only problem. Maybe we could make it to the airport with your dad’s old truck, but the airport is closed.”

“I got a private jet,” Bucky throws in, earning an angry look from you. Of course, that rich bastard has a private jet.

“James, no plane will take off today, or for the next days. Not even a private jet,” your mother points out. “If you’d excuse me now, I must pick up a few things for Christmas.”

“Mom, what about the snow?” You hate to see her sad face. “Do you want me to get what you need? I was always the better driver.”

“Your dad was the best driver—” She stiffens, and you can see grief flash up in her eyes. No matter how long he’s gone, she’ll always miss your dad. “He taught me everything.”

“I know,” you murmur and hold out your hand to squeeze hers tightly. “Do you want me to come with you?”

“Yeah.” She nods while struggling to hold back a sob. “I forgot to add a few things to my Christmas list. The streets should be free for now. We should hurry before more snow will keep us from leaving.”

Much to your dismay, Bucky decided to join you on your shopping tour. His pilot told him there was not a chance to get back to New York anytime soon. Now he needs a place to stay over the holidays and boots. It’s too damn cold to wear slippers.

“Over there you can buy boots,” you say, and point at the only shop in town selling warm boots. “I’ll get the things on the list, Mom. You can wait here.”

“Alright, Munchkin,” your mom says while watching Bucky look at you, brows furrowed. He dips his head to watch you storm off. “Don’t take it to heart, James. Christmas was always hard for Y/N since her dad passed away, and John left her for some other girl.”

“John, huh?” Bucky asks as you are busy buying everything your mom has on her list. “What happened?”

“It’s not my place to tell you, James. All I can say is that they wanted to marry the next spring and John decided to cheat.” She huffs. “Y/N moved across the county to get away from him, their business, and the girl he chose over her.”

“Their business?” Bucky presses on. “What kind of business?”

“Oh, nothing special. They—” Your mother gasps loudly as John steps toward you at your aunt’s bakery. “No, no! This will ruin Christmas for Y/N!”

“What?” Bucky follows your mother’s eyes, seeing you stiffen as John stands in front of you to chat you up. “That him?”

“Yes, I must stop him from hurting her!”

“Leave this to me.” Your mother smirks when Bucky enters the bakery. She even chuckles as John’s fiancé watches your former boss walk toward you.

Bucky, on the other hand, doesn’t know what came over him until he shoves John out of his way to cup your face and kiss you fiercely.

You whimper against Bucky's warm and plump lips. It's been a while since someone kissed you, and this kiss is on top of your list.

“Dude, excuse me! We were talking,” John grunts as Bucky and you part. You stare at Bucky, unsure what to do. “Hey! This is not the place to make out!”

“What?” Bucky turns around to smirk at John. “Sorry, I didn’t see you there. I was missing my fiancé, is all.”

“Fiancé?” John hiccups as you are too stunned to react. What just happened? Why did your former boss kiss you? Why is John here?

“Yes, fiancé. And I’d appreciate it if you stopped distracting her. Her mom is waiting outside, and it’s damn cold. We don’t want this lovely lady to get sick, don’t we.”

“Sure, sure,” John awkwardly stammers. “It was nice seeing you, Y/N. Have a good Christmas.” John and the woman he chose over you leave the bakery in a hurry.

You’re still shell-shocked and just watch them leave. What else can you do? If you slap Bucky’s face now, John knows this was all just play pretend.

Meanwhile, your mother stands outside the bakery, smiling to herself as Bucky nervously rubs the back of his neck.

More tags in reblog.

How to cure a grump@cjand10, @nofingjustaninchident, @pettyjayy, @pattiemac1, @formulas-bitch, @winchestert101, @greatmistakes, @mrsnikstan, @jokersqueenofchaos

[puckinghischier]

Bouy

nico hischier x fem!reader, jack hughes x platonic!reader, luke hughes x platonic!reader

summary: reader gets dragged to the bar by jack to meet all of his teammates, but finds herself drawn to a certain swiss captain

notes: part 2 to locksmith!! probably some inaccuracies about various player’s personalities, but all in the name of entertainment, right? i didn’t proofread either, oops. don’t know if i’m happy with how this turned out but here it is nonetheless. hope you enjoy!! 🫶🏼

part 1, part 3, part 4

[4.6k]

~

The bar that Jack picked is surprisingly busy for a week night. It’s not overcrowded, but it’s busy enough to where you’re having to hold on to the back of his shirt so you don’t lose him. He leads the two of you over to a set of tables tucked away at the back of the bar. Jack is greeted with shouts and hugs as you drop your grip on him and simply stand back, letting him have his moment. You recognize a few of the faces, no names coming to mind, but most of the faces you’ve never seen before. You should know the names and faces of who you’re assuming are Jack’s teammates, but the truth is, despite your relationship with the Hughes family, you’ve never been one to follow hockey very closely. You don’t come from an area where hockey is a big deal, and though you understand the logistics of the game and you’ve traveled to watch all three brothers in some of their biggest games pre-NHL, your knowledge of the league’s players pretty much begins and ends with Jack, Luke, and Quinn.

“Long time no see, hallway sleeper,” you’re pulled from your thoughts at the sound of a voice in your ear. You turn to see Nico, no hat this time, soft, brown hair on full display. He was still wearing a white t-shirt, only his sweats have been swapped for jeans this time.

“Long time no see, locksmith.”

Nico laughs, and for the second time today you allow yourself to think about how lovely the sound is. “You know, all in a day’s work.”

“Sounds like someone really should have a conversation with the big heads at the NHL. Their poor players work so hard, only to have to pick up second jobs on their off days in order to pay the bills. Shame on them,” you joke.

“I know! Maybe it’s time I go on strike, put my full attention to helping pretty girls break into their apartments full time,” he responds, a small blush forming on your cheeks.

“Well I don’t know about all that, I need my own personal locksmith on call at all times. You can’t abandon me in my time of need!”

“Wouldn’t ever dream of it,” Nico places his hand over his chest, feigning offense. You glance over his shoulder, eyeing the bar, thinking about the vodka cranberry that’s calling your name. He turns and follows your eyes. “Did you want to go get something to drink-“

“Neeks!! What’s up man! We missed you today!” Jack cuts Nico off as he turns around, sticking a hand out in-between himself and his captain. “The kids were asking where you were, you totally have to come with us next time!”

“Yeah, man. Next time, for sure. Just needed a rest day, y’know?” Nico responds, slapping Jack’s outstretched hand.

The two begin their own conversation about the charity skate while you stand in the background. You know Jack isn’t ignoring you on purpose, but you’re getting a little tired of just standing around, deciding that you need that drink sooner than later to loosen yourself up a bit and prepare yourself for the endless stream of socializing you know is about to come your way.

“Hey, J, I’m gonna get a drink, okay? I’ll be right back,” you interrupt the conversation, knowing Jack would be worried if he looked up and you were nowhere to be found.

“Oh shit, Y/N I’m so sorry, I totally forgot to introduce you to everyone. Neeks, this is Y/N, Y/N, Nico.”

“Yeah, we met earlier. When you decided to lock the door on your way out this morning and Nico seems to be the only person with a spare key to the place,” you deadpan, watching a confused look glaze over Jack’s features.

“I left the door unlocked, I swear! I even double checked as I was leaving, because Lu-“ Jack suddenly pauses. “Luke must have locked it when he went to grab his beanie he forgot. I’m so sorry, Bouy,” Jack apologizes, letting the nickname he gave you when you were kids slip out of his mouth.

“Bouy?” you hear Nico’s confusion, looking between the two of you, clearly confused.

“We’re not even going there right now, just a stupid nickname from one summer as a kid, not even important. What is important is that I get a drink, ASAP,” you say, once again trying to make your way to the bar.

You walk away from the two men, sights set on an empty spot near the end of the bar. Admittedly, getting a drink seemed way easier in theory than in execution, because no matter how hard you tried, you cannot get the attention of the bartender. You’ve tried waving, yelling, and following her as she makes her way down the line of patrons, but to no avail. You give up with a huff, turning around and leaning your back against the bar, trying to brainstorm how to get a drink in your hand sooner rather than later. “What if I just go take someone’s drink, what would they do then?” you speak aloud to no one other than yourself.

“I would advise against that. Who knows what concoctions some of these people are drinking.”

You whip your head around to find no other than Nico himself standing to your left. You begin to think him sneaking up on people is a habit of his, seeing as this is the second time he’s both surprised you and caught you talking to yourself today.

“You’ve got to stop sneaking up on me, Jesus.”

“Sorry. You just seemed so lost in that head of yours. I’d ask you what you’re thinking, but I’ve learned if I stand here long enough you’ll just say it out loud,” Nico jabs, amusement once again present in his brown eyes. It seems that’s a common occurrence whenever you’re in his presence.

“If you think I speak my mind now, just wait until I actually get a few drinks in me. You’ll be begging me to shut up,” you joke, turning slightly to see if the bartender is anywhere near your area.

“How about we test the theory. Need help?” he asks, challenging your words.

“I mean, be my guest, but I’ve been trying for what seems like forever,” you grumble, moving over slightly to make room for him at the bar.

You watch him stick his hand out, the bartender almost immediately looking over and nodding, signaling she’ll be right over. Your jaw drops. You were a little pissed, honestly. How in the hell did he just do that? You turn your head to look at him, eyes narrowed.

“How in the hell did you just do that?” your mouth mirrors your thoughts.

“Oh y’know, I have my ways,” he says, eyes twinkling, smirk on his lips.

“No, I demand to know. There’s no way I’ve been standing up here for the better part of fifteen minutes with not even a glance in my direction, yet all you have to do is stick your hand out two inches from your face and suddenly you’re next in line,” you spit out, your tone showing your frustration at the situation.

Nico opens his mouth to respond, but a voice from the other side of the bar sounds before he can get a word out.

“Hey, Neeks, what can I get for ya? Your usual?” the woman serving drinks asks, using the same nickname Jack calls Nico.

“Nah, just a Michelob for me tonight. Got morning skate tomorrow,” he tells her, seeming familiar with the woman. She turns to you, giving you the opportunity to really look at the girl. She was short, but not shorter than yourself. She had platinum blonde hair that was tied back into a high ponytail, a pen stuck right through the middle of it. She was wearing a bright green cropped tank top with black leggings. Her make-up was the perfect combination of natural, yet bold. She was….really fucking pretty. Like, intimidatingly pretty. The kind of girl that would make even the most confident of women feel slightly insecure, to no fault of her own.

“Is that all or…?” she trailed off, looking at you expectantly.

“Can I just get a vodka cranberry? Double?” you asked, suddenly regretting your decision to not even wear make-up tonight.

You hear her scoff through a “Of course, coming right up,” before looking at Nico once again, then hurrying off to grab Nico’s beer and your cocktail.

“Is there something wrong with a vodka cran up here? Why the attitude?” you spit out, annoyed that she clearly found an issue with your choice of drink.

“You just have to ignore Jess, she’s a bit of an alcohol snob. Thinks everyone should drink top shelf or not even bother drinking at all,” Nico gives you the girl’s name.

You were going to respond to the fact that the two are on a first name basis, but your drinks arrived before you had the chance. You looked up to thank the girl, Jess as you now know, but shut your mouth when you saw the exchange happening before you.

“Just add it to my tab, Jess. Both of them,” Nico tells her, grabbing the bottle of Michelob sitting in front of him.

“Sure thing, Neeks. If you need anything else just give me a shout. You know where to find me,” Jess lets her hand linger, briefly brushing against Nico’s. You look up to her face, seeing the sultry look in her eyes, her chin slightly dropped. She’s looking at Nico like he’s a meal and she hasn’t eaten in days. Glancing over at the man standing next to you, you notice his entire face is flushed red, up to the tips of his ears.

Your brows shoot up in both surprise and understanding. These two have slept together! Her actions a dead giveaway, albeit subtle. Girls recognize girls, you know? It surely explains why he was so quick to get her attention when you couldn’t even get so much as a glance. You’re fighting against every single muscle in your face to not break out into laughter, finding this amusing for some reason.

“Yeah, gotcha. Thanks, Jess,” Nico replies to the girl, stepping back a few inches from the bar.

You turn and follow him in the direction of the tables from earlier, trying your hardest to not get lost in the crowd of bodies you’re having to weave through.

“So, you didn’t tell me that all I had to do to get the bartender’s attention was sleep with her,” you said, stopping Nico in his tracks.

He turns to look at you, eyes wide and face red, seeming a little embarrassed. You worry you’ve already stuck your foot in your mouth much too early into the night.

“How did you- What makes you think-“ he fumbles over his words.

“I’m a girl, silly. I know when another girl is giving a man the ‘you gave me one of the best nights of my life and I want to do you again’ eyes. Nothing to be ashamed of, she’s gorgeous,” you interrupt, amused at his embarrassment.

You actually think its kind of sweet he seems embarrassed. You half expected him to meet your comments with a smirk and puff his chest out a bit, proud that he’d scored such a beautiful woman, but he’s not. You’ve met plenty of Jack’s previous teammates over the years, most of them cocky assholes that care about nothing more than who they can sleep with next. Never missing the chance to boast to all of his buddies about the blonde chick he managed to sneak into his room last night.

Nico’s response was the complete opposite of that. He almost recoiled at your words, looking like he wanted to crawl under the nearest table he could find and hide there until the end of the night. It’s a refreshing contrast to what you’re used to. You start to feel a little bad for even bringing it up.

Nico stands still, staring at you like he’d rather be anywhere else at the moment, beer forgotten in his hand. You can see the wheels turning in his head on how he’s going to get out of this situation. “Hey, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that. It’s none of my business. I didn���t mean anything by it, I’m just used to Jack’s other friends that never shut up about who they sleep with. My filter has a few holes in it I need to patch up I guess. I haven’t even had a drink and I’m already sticking my foot in my mouth-“

“I haven’t slept with her.”

Your mouth snaps shut mid-sentence. You stare at the man in front of you, noticing how he keeps fidgeting, clearly uncomfortable. He keeps shifting his weight from foot to foot, switching his beer from left to right to run whichever hand is free through his hair. His eyes keep darting anywhere but your face, clearly uncomfortable with the topic.

“Well if you haven’t then she sure wants to,” you try to backtrack a bit, hoping you can humor your way out of the mess you walked yourself into.

“Yeah, I’m sure she does. Just like she wants to sleep with the rest of the team,” he scoffs out. “Don’t get me wrong, Jess is nice and all, but she hits on all of us. It’s worked on a few of the guys. I’ve seen her drop a few of them off at practice in the mornings, but she never lets it go farther than that. Some of the guys prefer…arrangements like that, but it’s not really my style,” Nico replies, shocking you with his sudden honesty.

“I find it hard to believe that beautiful blondes aren’t your type, but I’ll let it slide for now,” you narrow your eyes, not sure how else to respond to his unexpected candor.

“It seems that my type is talkative strangers, but I’ll let you know if it changes,” Nico tells you with a smirk, his shift in personality giving you whiplash as he walks off without another word.

———————————————————————————

“So, where exactly are you from, Y/N?” you get asked for the fourth time in about 5 minutes from the man sitting to your right. You can’t exactly remember his name, only that he’s drank about 4 beers in the time you’ve been sitting here. Considering Jack went down the line and literally rapid fired names at you once you returned to the tables, you forgive yourself for not remembering.

“Dawson, she already told you three times, dude. She’s from Tennessee!” the man to your left shouts across you a little too loudly. You flinch a bit at just how loud these guys can be, having been shuffled around from conversation to conversation for the past hour, each man reaching a volume you didn’t know was humanly possible.

Jack will come by whatever table you’re currently at about every 30 minutes and tug you in whatever direction he sees fit, going on and on about how you just HAVE to meet so and so because they’ll love you. You love that he’s trying to include you and integrate you into the group dynamic the team has going on, but you really wish he would just let you mingle on your own.

His teammates have been nothing but welcoming and kind, but most of them are more than a few drinks deep and have been talking about whatever upcoming game they have and what strategies they need to improve on, leaving you left out and unable to add anything to the conversation.

“Virginia, actually. But close! I lived right on the border of Tennessee and Virginia, so it’s almost like I’m from both,” you shout back, explaining your origin…again.

“Wait, Virginia and Tennessee border each other?” Mr. four beers questions, Dawson you’ve just learned.

“Mercer you idiot, of course they border each other. Have you ever even looked at a fucking map?” the man to your left responds, reaching behind you and slapping Dawson on the back of the head.

“Ow! I’m from Canada, Johnny! How am I supposed to know? Do you know what Canadian states border one another?” Dawson fires back at the man to your left, Johnny.

“Provinces.”

“What?”

“Canada has provinces, not states, Dawson,” Johnny says, a blank look on his face as he stares at Dawson.

“Fuck you. And your Harvard degree,” Dawson crosses his arms and puffs up like a kid. It’s amusing really, watching the two bicker like siblings.

As the two continue to go back and forth, you can’t help but let your eyes wander around the bar, searching for a pair of brown ones. You haven’t spoken to Nico since he walked away from you earlier, after he all but told you that you were his type. His words took you by surprise, having only known the man for a few hours. You can’t lie and say you didn’t find him attractive from the moment you saw him standing in his doorway this morning, but you can’t let yourself go there, can you? You’ve been in the city less than twenty-four hours. You haven’t even fully unpacked all of your clothes yet, and here you are, unable to get your best friend’s captain off of your mind.

Just as you try to shake the thoughts running through your head, a pair of eyes find yours, causing you to sit up a little straighter. He’s standing at a table with Jack and a man that you remember to be named Timo. He’s Swiss, too, you learned when Jack introduced the two of you. He told you that he and Nico played together before they both found themselves with the Devils, the pair having hockey history.

Nico glances away, only briefly, before finding your eyes again, noticing the two men arguing on either side of you. He raises his eyebrow, as if asking you if you need help, but you just shrug and give a little half smile, rolling your eyes as if to say ‘boys, right?’. He lets out a chuckle, his shoulders shaking slightly. You see him exchange a few words with Jack and Timo before stepping away from the table, walking in the direction of the table you’re sitting at.

Just as Nico is only a few steps away, you feel your phone buzzing from where its laying on your thigh. You look at the screen, your mother’s name flashing across the screen. Realizing you hadn’t called her since your plane landed earlier in the day, you decide you should probably take the call.

“Sorry, guys, I gotta take this call,” you slide out from in-between the two hockey players, still arguing away. They don’t even notice your departure, too lost in discussing geography.

You look over to see Nico stop in his tracks, a confused look on his face. You hold up your phone and point to the screen, mouthing the word ‘mom’ before walking over to a secluded corner of the bar for some quiet.

“Hey, mom. Sorry I forgot to call earlier. It’s been a long day,” you sigh, leaning against the cool brick wall.

“Oh, sweetie, it’s okay. I just wanted to see how you were settling in. See how the boys were,” she pauses. “Where are you? What’s all that noise in the background?” she questions, slight concern in her voice.

“You know Jack, he wanted to come out and ‘celebrate’ the fact that I live in Jersey now. Tried to get out of it, but Jack never misses a chance to go out. Still have a ton of unpacking to do. I hope to have it all done before too long, though.”

“I should’ve known Jack would be ready to party as soon as you got there. You were always his favorite tag along,” she chuckles, referencing all the time Jack would drag you to various outings and events during the summer.

“Yeah, well this tag along is ready to make her way to her bed for the night, but I have to drive Jack home, so I’ll probably still be here awhile.”

“Honey just tell him you’re ready to go home. I’m sure he’ll understand.”

“Nah, I can wait it out a little bit longer. He’s too busy introducing me to everyone. He was so excited for me to meet his teammates,” you quickly glance towards where Jack stands. “You’d think I was some local celebrity or something the way he’s been shuffling me from table to table for meet and greets,” you laugh into the phone.

“He’s just happy to have you around again, sweetheart. I know how much you missed him, I’m sure he missed you just as much. He’s just trying to make sure you’re included.”

“I know, I know. It’s sweet, really, I just wish he would’ve let me have a few days before throwing me into a group of drunk hockey players, as usual,” you tell your mom, trying not to sound ungrateful. You do appreciate how eager Jack is to have all his friends meet you, but you’re growing sleepier by the minute.

“Welcome to life with Rowdy…again,” your mom laughs, using Jack’s childhood nickname.

“At least it’s sure to be an interesting one,” you reply, causing her laugh to grow. “Alright, momma, I better go before Jack comes looking for me. I’ll call you tomorrow, okay? I love you,” you say, looking over towards Jack’s table, watching him look around, likely noticing your absence.

“Alright, honey. I love you!” she says, hanging up the phone.

You lean your head back against the wall, closing your eyes for a second and taking a deep breath before returning to the chaos of bodies across the room.

“Did Dawson and Johnny really make that bad of a first impression that you’re hiding in a dark corner?”

Yet again, you jump at the voice that seems to be following you around today. You raise your head up and open your eyes, Nico standing a few feet away from you. You simply close your eyes once again and lay your head back against the wall once more, needing another minute to collect yourself.

“You know, I think I’m going to buy you some of those shoes with squeakers in them, that way I can always know when you’re coming,” you tell him, enjoying the feeling of the cool concrete against your head.

All you hear in response is a laugh, which has you raising your head to look at Nico again. You admire the way he scrunches his nose when he laughs, already thinking about how you can coax the sound out of him again.

“Where’s the fun in that now…Bouy, was it?” he recalls your nickname from earlier, earning a glare from you.

“Don’t you even start,” you warn.

“You’re really not going to tell me why Jack called you that? I’ve been trying to get the story out of him for the past two hours. He won’t budge, saying only you can tell it.”

“Trust me, it’s not even worth your time. I don’t even understand why the nickname stuck. They’re all stupid, the lot of them,” you shut down the request.

“Don’t worry, I’ll pry it out of you one day. I’ll solve the Bouy mystery eventually,” Nico persists, not letting the subject drop that easily.

You remove yourself from the wall, sliding your phone into your back pocket. You run your hand through your hair with a huff, preparing yourself to join the others once again.

“Everything okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. My mom called, so I figured I’d better take it. A little tired, but I’m all good. Just hope Jack tires out sooner rather than later,” you shrug your shoulders.

“I can give him a ride home if you want to leave? I don’t mind, really. Not like it’s exactly out of the way,” Nico offers.

“No, I should stay. He was really excited for me to meet everyone tonight so I feel like I should at least stay a little bit longer. I don’t want to bail on him this soon.”

“Trust me, if it was up to Jack he wouldn’t leave until they kicked him out,” Nico states, nothing but seriousness in his tone.

“Well, we don’t call him Rowdy for nothing,” you joke. “Speaking of, we’ve been spotted,” you notice Jack making his way over to where the two of you stand.

“Hey, everything alright? I couldn’t find you and Timo said he saw you come over here awhile ago, then said he saw Nico come over here too. You okay?” Jack says as he approaches, glancing towards Nico before looking at you, concern in his tone and on his face.

“No, yeah, I’m fine. Mom called and I came over here so I could hear her better, then Nico came to check on me. We were about to come join everyone again, I was just enjoying the quiet for another minute,” you tell Jack, watching the worry fall from his face.

“Oh tell momma Y/L/N that her favorite surrogate son misses her,” Jack brightens at the mention of your mom, both of you viewing the other’s parents as a second set, just as close to them as you were your own.

“I will when she calls tomorrow,” you chuckle, knowing your mom will get a kick out of this conversation.

“I actually came over here to see if you were ready to go? We have morning skate tomorrow and Luke just texted me asking when we were coming home, which usually means he’s lonely and feeling left out, so we should probably get going,” Jack says, surprising you by granting your earlier wishes.

“Oh my god yes, please. I’m so tired,” you sigh, letting your shoulders slump, relieved that you’re only a few minutes away from climbing in your bed.

“I thought so, you looked like you were having a grand time with Dawson and Johnny,” Jack laughs, recalling your earlier position between the two geography enthusiasts.

“They were literally yelling at each other about the geography of the U.S. and Canada,” you told the two men standing with you, both of them breaking out into laughter.

“That’s nothing. Once they argued for a full two hours on if pterodactyl was spelled with a p or not,” Nico adds in, having been silent until now, causing you to be the one filled with laughter.

Jack looks over, seeming to just now remember Nico was also standing with the two of you.

“You need a ride home, cap?” Jack offers, looking over at you with suspicious eyes before looking back at Nico.

“Nah, I’ve only had two beers. I’m good to drive. Plus, I should probably make sure Dawson gets home and in bed. He’s going to regret all those tequila shots when we have to be on the ice at eight tomorrow morning.”

“Exactly why I’m tapping out now. Be careful, Neeks. See you at practice,” Jack tells his captain before turning to you. “You ready to blow this popsicle stand?”

“Like it’s a hot summer day.”

Jack smiles, the phrase becoming a trademark of yours over the years. You don’t even remember what started it, just that it’s become the signature end to many nights of fun for the two of you. He turns to walk away and you go to follow him before you realized you didn’t say goodbye to Nico. Not wanting to feel rude, you turn around to say your goodbyes to the captain.

“Goodnight, Nico. Have a good practice tomorrow.”

“Thanks. Goodnight, Bouy,” he responds, a shit-eating grin breaking out on his face.

Fuck you, Jack Hughes.

[muwapsturniolo]

✯FreshLove for the fit PT4 ✯

pt1 pt2 pt3 mww1 mww2 mww3 mww4

summary: Chris joins his girlfriend while streaming.

warnings: NSFW CONTENT. making out, fingering, pussy slapping, facial slapping, oral (m receiving), sex. dom! Chris, vibrator, live streaming. if I forgot anything let me know.

✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯

Chris grunts as Y/n tries to get off his lap, using his hands to keep her in place. The two were in her living room on the couch, making out for what felt like hours. They have been dating for a few months now, keeping their relationship a secret from socials and certain friends.

"Chris, I told you I can't be with you all day, I have to work."

Work, aka streaming.

Chris isn't oblivious to her line of work, that's how they met and started dating. He didn't care about it, in fact he loved it. He would occasionally watch her streams, getting off to her moans and the way her body moved.

"Go do your stream then, I'll wait right here."

Y/n huffs at his stubbornness. She wasn't embarrassed or ashamed of her job, she loved it, but she was all about respect. She didn't want to make Chris uncomfortable in any way shape or form. She raised her prices for personal sessions, she only streamed at night, and she made it clear to Chris to tell her if he started getting uncomfortable.

"Chris... I'm not leaving you in my living room while I stream." He shrugs and starts rubbing small circles on her hips, looking over her body. She was wearing one of his shirts that she cropped herself, underboob showing. She had on the tiniest pair of shorts, the orange material leaving little to imagine.

"Well I want to spend time with you, I have the next two days free and I told you I was spending them with you." He begins to kiss along her neck, her hair tickling his face slightly. She cranes her head to the side, giving him more space to leave the incoming hickies.

She doesn't want this to stop, if she could ditch this stream, she would in a heartbeat, but she knew she needed to do her job. Suddenly, an idea, a bold one, pops into her head.

"You wanna watch?"

Chris stops kissing at her neck, pulling away to get a good look at her. "What do you mean? like on my phone?"

She moves off his lap, walking towards the stairs. "No, I mean in person."

"You'll let me?'' She notices the glimmer in his eye and says nothing, ascending up the stairs. Chris flies off the couch, racing up the stairs to reach her. She's standing in front of a door Chris has eyed multiple times.

Every time he came over, the door was locked, the key never to be found. She unlocks the door and walks inside, Chris following close behind her.

He recognizes the room immediately, it's her streaming room. his heart begins to race as he looks around.

Y/n moves around the room, getting everything set up for the long stream ahead of her. After a few minutes, she walks over to Chris and pushes him down in a chair that's out of view from the camera. "Sit here and don't move. Don't even make a noise," she demands. Chris smirks, sinking down further into the chair, "Yes ma'am." She rolls her eyes and walks over to the bed, yelping when Chris lands a firm smack on her ass. She turns and gives him a dirty look which he just smiles at. She huffs and hops into the endless amounts of pillows.

She grabs the sparkly keyboard and taps away, loading up the stream. He watches as the monitor lights up and comments roll in.

"Hi everyone," he notices her voice is softer, much like the first time they talked. Her eyes scan the monitor, soft giggles escaping her mouth. "The hickies?" She eyes Chris before looking back at the camera.

"I have a special guest with me today, he won't be participating but he's watching." She pushes the keyboard away and swaps it out for a pillow, purposely hugging it close so her boobs are pushed up.

The stream continues, her chatting with the viewers about random things, talking about her day, etc. "You want me to take my shirt off?" she hums and begins to fiddle with the orange Freshlove shirt. "You guys know the rules"

Like clockwork, her phone blows up with multiple payment notifications. Chris is shocked seeing the payments roll in, he knew she got paid, but not this much.

She lets go of the pillow and slowly takes her shirt off, her boobs rippling slightly. Chris sucks in a sharp breath, adjusting his hips.

Chris is hard, painfully hard.

His girlfriend is sitting a few feet away from him, naked, and teasing both him and the audience, yet he can't do anything about it. Every once in a while she would tweak her nipples, talk about a new vibrator she bought, and even going as far as opening her legs slightly, showing the slick covering her folds, all while eyeing Chris deviously.

This was torture.

"I want to play now, you guys are no fun." She bats her lashes, pouting at the camera. She suddenly grabs a vibrator from the side of the bed and smiles. She turns it on and trails it over her body, teasing herself and the stream. She eyes Chris once again before turning back to the screen, "I think I'm going to be nice today."

She leans back, propping her legs up and showing off her glistening cunt. She puts the vibrator on her clit and immediately throws her head back in relief. She had a bunch of pent-up tension from her and Chris previously making out, and now it's being handled.

He sucks in a sharp breath as he watches her play with herself. Of course he's seen her masturbate through a phone, but seeing it in person is a different type of feeling. His hand slips into his sweats, stroking his aching member in an attempt to relieve the pain. He bites his lip, suppressing the groan wanting to spill out of his mouth, his hand moving faster.

His dick is throbbing at this point, leaking precum and pulsing under his touch. he watches with hungry eyes as his girl shows off in front of the camera.

"Mmf fuck!" She moans throwing her head back and grinding against the vibrator.

He can't handle it.

"fuck it"

He jumps up and rushes over to the bed, wrapping his hand around her throat and yanking her into a lustful kiss. She's in shock but doesn't fight it, both of them forgetting they are on a live stream. "You're working me baby, having me sit there and watch you play with yourself like a little whore." He growls as he pulls away from her. He removes his hand from her neck and grabs ahold of her hair, slapping her firmly. She whimpers but doesn't back out, "You gonna make it up to me?" She nods eagerly, always excited to please him. He grins at her, shoving her face in his crotch, "Go ahead ma, make it up to me."

Her hands move quickly, pulling his sweats and boxers down. His dick springs up, slapping his stomach, aching to be engulfed in her warm mouth. She grabs it by the base, slowly stroking it as she rubs the tip against her puckered lips. His precum glossing the soft pillows.

Chris yanks her hair harder than the first time, slapping her once again and starting to brutally fuck her mouth., "Stop fucking playing with me." She gags and chokes around him, tears running down her face and mixing in with the spit pooling out her mouth, mixing with the spit bubbles.

The chat goes wild seeing their favorite cam girl getting throat fucked by her boyfriend. They haven't seen her collaborate with an actual guy in so long, they were feining for it. They were sending in payments like crazy, her phone constantly buzzing.

She tries to slow him down, but it's no use. He goes even harder, making it a mission to bruise her throat.

"Come on, be a good girl and take it. I know you can." He pants as he feels himself getting close. He stalls in her throat, letting out deep and raspy groans as his hot seed spills into her throat. She looks up at him through salty tears, her body lurching due to her gag reflex. He pulls out of her throat, giving her no time to breathe, before he pulls her into a hungry kiss, not caring about his own cum being pushed into his mouth.

He pushes her back harshly, settling down behind her. He slaps her pussy a few times making her whimper and whine. He stops and runs his fingers through her folds, gathering her slick, "Look at you, making a mess and I haven't even fucked you yet."

He slaps her pussy once again making her close her legs, "Keep 'em fucking open. You want to show off like a whore, I'll treat you like one." He pushes her legs open, grabbing the vibrator that was discarded on the side of the bed. He turns it on and presses it on her clit, making her throw her head back onto his shoulder. He snakes his other arm around her front and sinks his fingers deep into her cunt.

Her back arches against his, her eyes fluttering shut. "You love this, don't you? You love being treated like a whore?" He grunts in her ear, his fingers moving faster.

"Answer me Ma, you like being my whore?" The lewd squelching noises and vibrations fill the room. "Fucckk! I love being you whore!" she answers, her hips chasing both the vibrations and his fingers. He hums and kisses along her neck, still driving his fingers in and out of her.

He turns the vibrator up by two settings, watching as her legs begin to shake, her toes curling.

"Oh fuck Chris!" She looks down and watches his fingers pump in and out of her, the cream pooling on the slender digits.

She feels herself getting close, dangerously close. She tries to pull it away but Chris stops her, holding her body and the vibrator in place. "Come on baby, don't be so shy. Show them what you do," he whispers in her ear, urging her to show her viewers his favorite action of hers.

She has never shown her stream that she could squirt, keeping it a secret, and now she's being forced to. He curls his fingers and that's the breaking point. She lets out a mix of a moan and a scream. Chris pulls the vibrator away, using his fingers that were once pumping in and out of her to swipe back and forth across her clit, aiding in pushing the liquid out. Her hips lift off the bed as her juices splash in front of them, landing on the pink blankets and monitor.

The chat blows up seeing her squirt for the first time, urging Chris to keep giving them a show of a lifetime.

He pulls his hand away, shoving his soaked fingers into her mouth. She gags but proceeds to lick his fingers clean, knowing their routine like the back of her hand. "good girl," he says pulling his fingers away from her mouth.

She has no time to recover due to Chris pushing her down face-first into the mattress. He lifts her waist, positioning her exactly how he wants her. Without warning, he slips inside of her. Her velvety walls suck him up just right, taking him in with no problem. Her eyes roll to the back of her head, her body jolting with each harsh thrust Chris throws at her.

She tries to pull away from him, everything becoming too intense. "Don't run from me, you know I hate it." He grabs her waist and yanks her back, going even deeper and faster. "fuck fuck fuck I ca-" she reaches back and tries to push him away, angering him even more. He grabs her arm and holds it against her back, using it as an anchor to drive his body into hers. Her body falls onto the bed, Chris now lying on top of her, plowing relentlessly. He wraps his hand around her throat, forcing her head up. He smiles seeing the tears running down her face, "Aww, is it too much for you?" He taunts as he switches his pace, opting for slow and hard thrusts that would knock the wind out of her lungs. She's unable to speak, only being able to make a noise. He wraps his arm around her neck, squeezing slightly and watching as she goes cross-eyed, drool beginning to run out of her mouth.

With the deep thrusts that were already knocking the air from her lungs, and her oxygen supply being cut off, she's over the moon. She looks into the camera, giving a wide and fucked out smile that shows she's loving every second of it.

"You can handle it, I know you can. Be a good girl and cum for me." He whispers in her ear, still pounding his hips into her. Her eyes roll back as her body convulsed under him, reaching her high once again. He groans feeling her walls clamp down on him, begging him to stay inside her. He kisses her shoulder blade as he pulls out, a popping noise being heard. He flips her onto her back, grabbing her jaw harshly, "You gonna give me one more?" The girl is so fucked out and delirious, she doesn't answer.

He gives her a swift slap to the face that makes her moan. He smirks and lets go of her jaw, pushing her legs to her chest and slipping back inside of her with ease. Her back arches off the bed, a wheezing noise being heard from her. He wastes no time and ruthlessly pounds into her, enjoying the way she mumbles incoherently.

The creamy residue sits at the base of his dick, some of it flying and landing on the back of her thighs and his abdomen from the thrusts. He could never get tired of the sight, it was something about visually seeing their pleasure that drove him to keep going.

Y/n feels like she's about to pass out. Of course she has done streams where she has gotten fucked or overstimulated herself, but not like this. She usually had time to cool down so her stamina didn't run out, but with Chris it was different, and she loved it. chris was always ready to pleasure her back to back, pushing her to her limits, and leaving her shaking, fucked out, and pleading for more.

Chris feels his second high of the night approaching. In reality, it's been there the whole time but he refused to let go until Y/n was damn near passed out underneath him. He hooks his arms under her legs, going underneath her, and lifts her off the bed, beginning to jackhammer.

She lets out a scream, this new angle making her see stars, her sobs and moans bouncing off of the room. Chris has never fucked her while standing up, hell she was never fucked in this position in general. "Almost there, just a few more," he encourages as he drops her to the bed, pushing her legs to the side of her head, his pelvis meeting hers.

Their bodies bounce up and down on the bed, his dick reaching the deepest it could go, even hitting her cervix at times. She's holding on to his back, raking her acrylic nails down the soft skin.

"Fuck! I'm gonna cum!" She finally finds her voice to speak the four words. "Come on baby, I'm right there."

He rubs circles on her clit, driving her to her high. Her back arches off the bed, her body shaking as if an exorcism was being performed. Chris stalls his hips deep inside of her, painting her walls a milky white as he groans in her ear.

Y/n lays there, holding Chris with closed eyes and panting. Chris turns and looks at the monitor, reading a few comments as he comes down from his high.

"Isn't that Chris Sturniolo?"

That comment makes him freeze, his actions suddenly hitting him. He quickly stands up from the bed, pulling out of Y/n harshly. She whimpers from the sudden movement, her body sore and tired.

Chris quickly pulls on his boxers, darting toward her computer in the corner. His eyes dart across the screen, looking for the end button. He finds it and abruptly ends the stream, his heart pounding

He turns hearing Y/n whine. He walks over to her and picks her up, carrying her out of the room, and to her own bathroom.

"Let's get you cleaned up ok?" He mumbles looking down at her. She hums, allowing him to set her down on her bed.

As he runs the bathwater for Y/n, he only has one thought going through his head.

"I fucked up."

✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯

I'M SO SORRY THIS FIC TOOK 40 DAYS AND 40 NIGHTS TO BE PUT OUT😭 I JUST HAVE BAD WRITERS BLOCK WHEN IT COMES TO THIS FIC SPECIFICALLY!!! BUT THIS SERIES IS MY BABY CUZ I FEEL LIKE IT WAS THE ONE YALL ATE UP WHEN I FIRST STARTED POSTING SO I HAD TO BRING IT UP FOR THE ONE TIME!!!

THIS IS (finally) THE END OF MUWAP WEEK!!! THANK YOU FOR TUNNING IN!!! I LOVE YOU ALL!!!

XOXO, PEACHES 🍑

TAGLIST🍑

@bernardsgf @bernardsleftbootycheek @blahbel668 @mattfrfr @gdsvhtwa @sturniolo-aali @lily-loves-struniolos @kynda-avery @causeidontlikeagoldrush

@st7rnioioss @carolinalikesthings @mattslolita @suyqa @xxloveralways14 @pepsiimaxx @judespoision

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[mermaidchansons]

Divine Indeed: Part One

Neighbor!Terry Richmond x Divine Wells (black OC)

Story Summary: Divine Wells, an autistic seamstress, deals with waves of change after she picks up her life and moves to San Diego for a new job. She thought she’d finally found peace in her new normal; until Oshun decided to push her path to collide with her fine ass neighbor, Terry Richmond.

Words: 1400+

Warnings: none

Author’s Note: I guess I’m back like John Wick lmfao. I know this is short but there will be more! My taglist is old so if you would like to be removed, lemmie know. Thanks for reading the beginning of this 5 part series <3 - Ashanti

Pt. 1 Pt.2

“Phone, wallet, journal, where the hell did I put that key?” Divine shivered from the cold as she rummaged through her tote, searching for her mail key. She knew she should have added the key to her ‘Heathers’ lanyard when she moved in two weeks ago. But no, the endless streams of thought tossed that out completely. Here she was, tired from her first day at the new job, freezing from the sudden drop in temperature outside; dragging her bandaged fingers through her belongings and wincing at the pain. The sounds of the busy road and the bustling community echoing in her apartment complex were bouncing against her cat ear headphones. Overstimulation had already begun to creep up her shoulders, causing her to search hurriedly.

“It’s fine, just breathe,” she murmured to herself, before squatting and emptying her bag on the floor. 

When the fashion house hired her full-time, she hadn’t expected to be welcomed with such a joyful yet overwhelming welcome. The office was fast-paced, everyone wanted to introduce themselves and compliment her work at last season's fashion week. Divine, as grateful as she could be, was exhausted. The fabric archive was extensive, her desk was flooded with natural light, and the office was close to her new favorite coffee chain. All good things, all great things; but the exhaustion of change was eating away at Divine’s joy. Greedily gobbling it up and leaving nothing but crumbs in her hands. It was enough to make her sick.

Divine took out her phone and turned on its flashlight, illuminating the inside of the black tote. The silver mail key glimmered in the light in the left corner of the bag, causing Divine to sigh in relief. Accommodating change with ever lessening spoons was an easy way to ruin what should have been a good day.

 Change was a concept that both pushed and plagued her existence in this world. It was a fickle thing, really. A breakup with her freak of the week or a sudden change in plans could dissolve all ability to function; however, so could a new high paying job, a new apartment, a new city. When Divine was 7 years old, her twin sibling Sera found her crying under the ancestor table with her eyes shut tight. She was praying, begging Oshun and Elegba to stop time altogether and keep the waves of change from lapping at the beach of life that she had been thrust upon, unwillingly. Most of her childhood was spent running away from the throws of time. Her parents brought their twins up in love and the teachings of the Orishas, wanting to grant them spiritual guidance that would prepare them for anything they should face. But it didn’t truly matter whether the change was good or bad, Baby Divine would still have to regulate herself, manipulating and reforming her spirit to adapt to a new mold. Every now and again, the freshly 31-year-old would find herself in her tub with her ears below the water, desperately pleading for Oshun to still time. Only for a moment, just enough time to get her bearings. Divine had made her plans, carefully entwining every new task with just enough time to find balance. However, the Orishas did not take these plans into consideration when they made her. Oshun had her own plans. 

Divine shoved the spilled contents of her life back into her tote and walked into the mailroom. She leaned down to unlock what she thought to be her mailbox, eager to get her package and scamper off to her apartment before anyone saw her bent over. The key didn’t work in #71, #74, or #75, and she could never remember. She made a mental note to reread her move-in papers so that she wouldn’t be in here for this long again. There was nothing wrong with sharing a mailroom with other folks, but Divine knew she took up space. She was a dark skin woman with thick thighs, an ass that could stop traffic, and a tummy to match. Today’s pants were put on when Divine was hyping herself up this morning, telling herself that ‘an ass this good deserves to be seen’. But 10 hours later with little to no patience, the less she could be perceived by others, the better. She just needed to get her new stuffy, a pig with wings, and get out as soon as she could.  The music in her headphones transitioned into a new song and the slow plucking of a bass guitar steadily built up in her ears before King Woman’s voice floated in. 

I don’t have to sell my soul

He’s already in me

I don’t need to sell my soul

He’s already in me

Unlocking door #78, Divine sent a silent thank you to the ancestors before pulling two letters out. There was no package. Why was there no package? Divine reached her arm in as far as she could and felt around the empty space, her shield of annoyance stopping her from noticing a person entering the room. 

“The front desk usually leaves a key for bigger packages,” the deep voice boomed out. Divine, scared out of her wits, moved a bit too fast, clanging her wrist against the mail to get out. She looked at the person surprisingly, shaking the pain away from her wrist. He was soaked to the bone like he’d just been caught in a rainstorm; the wet fabric of his shirt clung to his thick, muscle-lined frame. Divine had gotten so lost in drinking in the man’s tall frame, that she had forgotten all about her key and the mailbox. Package be damned. 

I wanna be adored

I wanna be adored

“I’m sorry, could you say that again?” Divine stood up straight, fixing her clothes, and put one side of the headphones behind her ear. The man was practically a giant, so tall that she was sure he had to duck to walk into the room. Her eyes locked with his and she audibly gulped. His eyes were transportive, a stunning grayish blue with flecks of green folded in. They looked like wells filled to the brim with a storm, desperate to escape and wreak havoc on anyone in its path. 

“You’re good,” the giant said, offering small bits of reassurance, “if you have a package, they leave a key to the community package box. May I?” 

Divine shifted to the side to allow him enough room to sidestep in front of her and grab the key that had lodged itself into the back corner of her mailbox. She watched him intently as he moved to open the community box, making note of how the muscles in his back moved. Her mouth went dry watching him and it was as if all the water in her body was flooding to her middle. She needed to get out of here, as soon as possible. 

The kind man handed her her missing package with the key on top, their hands touching and setting off a string of electricity that shot up her arms and down her spine. An unintentional staring match has begun and Divine tore eyes away, intimidated and aroused. 

“Thank you. Bye,” Divine curtly turned on her heels and rushed out of the mail room, and made a beeline straight to the stairs; elevator be damned. Who was that god of a man? Was he watching her walk away? God, she hoped that he was. Divine didn’t want to be perceived but if he was watching she’d make it worth the watch. She relaxed her body and amped up the sway of her hips before checking over her shoulder to see that he was turned away. She dragged her hands down her face, groaning in embarrassment. Her sibling would get a kick out of this.

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Thanks For Reading!

[hoshigray]

hii love ur works 🫶🏽

can I req brat reader giving toji the WORST attitude? 💗.

*sinister laugh* Why, yes, you can, noonie! When I saw this, the first scenario that came to mind was the reader being another assassin who likes to get on Toji's nerves. So, imma stick with that!! Had to take an all-nighter to finish this up, hehe~ (no fr tho, it's 8:35 in the morning here) Thank you for loving my stuff, and enjoy~~

A/n: posting this bc I'm staling on my Geto fic since my brain has so much it wants to add...sigh. In the meantime, while I'm working on this, I figured I could drop this as an apology for pulling the fic back (~_~;) My apologies, and I hope y'all like this one! Also tysm for 1.7k followers!! Y'all are too kind and sweet, happy to be writing for you~☆ Cw: hard dom! Toji x bratty fem! reader - you and Toji are assassins on a mission together - explicit content; minors DNI - implied age gap (the reader is at least in their 20s; Toji in his mid-30s or approaching 40s, up to you) - fingering (f! receiving) - cunnilingus - sexual acts in a public place - degradation (brat, crybaby, slut, whore) - Daddy kink - reader talking smack, but Toji teaches you a lesson - tiny praise - pussydrunk! Toji - pet names (baby, doll, princess) - ends with penetration, but mostly Toji eating you out - unprotected sex (PSA: wrap it up, or get the fuck up) - overstimulation - clitoral play (pinching, pushing, and sucking) - mentions of blood. Wc: 1.8k

You recently joined the hitmen field not too long ago. Still young and new to the workforce, it wasn't the first place you figured to enter for some quick cash. But with your astute skills and abilities, no other occupation best suited you. Besides, it wasn't long before people looked past your recent addition and saw what you were made of. Not only were you good at your job, but you were climbing the ranks, swifting past your inferior subordinates.

It's nothing new, though. You were always good at what you do, better than others at what you do. Doing everything perfectly and effortlessly, that was your style. And everybody knew that.

Everybody but a particular individual. A specific man who always overshadowed you. An older man who snatched your attention the first moment he looked your way, the scar on his lip rooted up with the twinge of his lips.

"Rookies lookin' real cute these days, huh, doll?" were his first words to you. And from that day on, you did what you could to get close to him. Even if that meant irritating him.

From taking his missions to acting as a complete thorn in his side, you do whatever it takes to get Toji's attention. Especially his silent pissed off expressions, which are your favorite to see. And don't let your handler tell you that you two would be on a mission together because the teasing would be endless for the poor, experienced hitman.

Just like today, when you two are deployed to kill an old geezer and his goons for a massive sum of money, Toji goes to one side of the old warehouse to thin out the number of bodyguards and heads straight to the target's den, leaving you to the rest. But imagine his surprise when he sees the old man already dead on the chair at his desk, a stiletto pierced right through his neck, evident of his demise as a stream of crimson staining his yellow dress shirt.

And Toji notices a note left on the weapon, the familiar handwriting in pink with a kiss mark already tells him who wrote it. "Gotta be quicker than that, Grandpa ~" is what he reads in your charming voice, and it vexes him knowing you beat him to the punch.

He sees you leaning on a pallet rack when he returns to the warehouse, and you smile when you turn to him. "Well, that was fast," you play coy, stretching when standing straight up. "Took care of those punks like five minutes ago, figured I'd wait on you."

"I got your note." He wastes no time. He's so hot when he does that.

"Oh? Did ya like it~?" Your hand swiftly grabs something that came dangerously close to your temple — your stiletto. It was thrown with the knowledge that you would catch it. So serious, huh.

"Ya know, for someone callin' me a 'grandpa,' you sure act like a damn kid leavin' y'r toys everywhere."

You chuckle at his complaint. "Awww, did I hurt your big boy feelings with my little words?" You see his green eyes watch your every move as you walk up close to him. "Sorry~, not my fault you were too slow to get the final kill."

Toji raises a brow. "How'd ya get to him before me?"

You shrug with a cheeky grin. "Assassins don't tell their secrets, especially when your old head couldn't get it."

It's his turn to chortle. "Oh yeah? Ya think y'r too fast for me?"

"I wouldn't say that, just that you're too slow for me," your hands go up defensively when he takes a step forward, and you try hard to not get turned on by his well-built physique displayed by the shirt that does a terrible job hiding his features. "As a matter of fact, I bet you're slow at other things."

He takes another step forward, and before you register his next move, he already has you pinned to the pallet rack you once leaned against. His smirk grows broader while your eyes widen at the sudden shifting. "Was that too slow fr' you, princess?"

No, absolutely not. That's what you would want to say to him, his tall figure engulfing you under his presence. But you didn't want to let off that easily, your hand finding the crotch of his pants. When verdant eyes shut to the feeling of your fingers brushing against his bulge, you take the chance to say more. "Oh, that was totally too slow for me, geezer. Such a shame; I thought you'd be a lot more fun. But guess I'll have to go on to the next person who could do a better job."

"Mmm, don't start somethin' y'r not ready for, brat." His gruff voice dials to a whisper, your ears replaying the tone, making the throbbing sensation between your legs prosper. You can feel his erection, even with his pants blocking the view. "Good luck findin' someone who'd shut that pretty mouth of y'rs better than I do."

You giggle after grabbing onto his erect cock, forcing the older man to hiss and his face coming down to your level. You whisper to his ear. "And what makes you think a dumb, old, brute-for-brains like you could satisfy me? I fail to see what you're capable of, grandpa." Those were the words you chose to entice the man under your spell.

But what you really failed to see was the predicament you've gotten yourself in.

Lying on a pallet with your back, your pretty bottoms and panties now discarded to the dirty floor, you scream out to the empty warehouse. Tears and drool escape from your face, and the quiver in your legs is evidence of your body going through the absolute most right now. "Haaahh! Ahhhh!! T-Tojiii, Toji, please!! I'm—Hoooohh!!" You grab tufts of raven hair that are stationed between your legs.

The older man holds your legs up with one hand, the other nestled between your slick-coated folds as his middle and forefinger push in and out of your cunt. His tongue licks furiously on your clitoris, your cries evident of the abuse on your tender bud and vulva.

Toji removes the wet muscle and moves his fingers go an instantaneous pace, the tips of his digits scraping your walls resulting in more tears falling off your face without fail. He snickers, "Look at you; all that screamin' and hollerin' like a damn whore have you forgetting simple rules." His thumb finds your clit, pushing down on it every time his fingers are propelled inside. "What did I tell you to call me, brat?"

The unforgiving rhythm of his hand on your bare vulva has you seeing stars and choking on your spit. "I-I'm sorry, Daddy!! I didn't mean to make you mad at me!"

"You sure 'bout that?" His condescending tone matched the devilish twinge of his scarred lips. The digits doing a 'come hither' motion that has your body jerking nowhere, your legs still restrained by his firm arm pushing them to your stomach. "My 'big boy feelings' were crushed with y'r little comments, so here I am gettin' the payback I need. Was acting all high and mighty until I got my mouth on ya."

"But I said—Mmmph!! I'm sorry!" You wail out, your face hot with embarrassment and excitement. "And I already came—Oh fuck...C-Came three times!!"

"You called me names four times, so I expect you to cum one more time, you fuckin' crybaby." He replies coldly, your tears and pleas on deaf ears. "Heh, if I knew havin' my fingers in you like this would have you behavin', I woulda done it earlier. Grippin' on my 'em like a damn slut."

His fingers go faster with no smooth transition as his mouth returns to your soft button, your screams erupting from the back of your exhausted throat. Even with your voice filling the scene, you can only listen to the raunchy noises of the commotion between your thighs. It's enough for you to wish your ears burn at such lewd sounds, and your head pounding worsens the state of your already mushy brain. This is what you wanted all this time — to have the man you've been infatuated with give you the attention to so dearly strived and poked for. However, the intensity of it all was nowhere near what you had expected.

"Nnnmm!! Daddyyy," the title slurred from your mouth feels hot to the tongue, but it's the only way to address him before your punishment intensifies. You peer down to see his black hair come up, fierce emerald eyes taking in your expressions. "It's coming, gonna cum again!!"

"Yeah? Wanna come on my fingers again?" He chortles when you rapidly nod at him, pathetically desperate for your release. "Fine, cum on Daddy's fingers like the slut you are." He moves his hands to the back of your thighs and has his tongue slowly glide up your soapy chasm, tasting your wetness until he reaches your clitoris and attacks the bud more. Circling around and sucking on your precious nub prompts your orgasm to climb up, and it hits you hard when his teeth and tongue grind on your clit.

With final moans of pleasure, you experience your finish with the harsh treatment of Toji's mouth, hands purchasing his hair for faux stability. Your legs tremble with curled toes, and your body jolts with the shocks. And Toji doesn't stop until he licks the slit clean of your essence, slurping up your sensitive folds until his thirst has quenched. All you can do is submit and let him have his way with you, sucking up your fluids from your cunt to the mess of your inner thighs.

"Mmmm, fucking Christ, Y/n," you hear his mumbled curse below. "Taste so fuckin' good, baby..."

Your body soon calms down from the climax, trying to steady your breathing with even breaths. And Toji finally finishes drinking your wetness, drawing his head up to reveal his lips wet with your come, licking it and his fingers. "Bet that wasn't slow fr' ya, huh."

You meekly nod your head. "And I bet nobody's gonna make you shut you up like that, huh?" You nod again.

The smirk on his face scares you, especially when he straightens up to show his erect dick still hard and ready to be free from the tented pants. And when his cock springs out, your sweaty body runs cold immediately.

"Good," he says while bringing you close to him, arranging his cock to your wet entrance. "But we ain't done here." Complaints and pleas aren't able to enter the air because you just watch the tip of his cock bully through the lips of your chasm and enter inside you with ease. He gradually pushes his entire length into you, getting full with every inch as his girth intrudes between your tight, smooth walls.

"Keep up wit' me, baby," his eyes hone in on you, gauging your reactions before he starts moving his hips relentlessly. "because I'm about to show you what I'm really capable of."

[kiwriteswords]

Hi can you write about reader is Derek sister and her and Hotch are dating and one day reader comes to visit Derek at work not realizing that Derek and Hotch knows each other or even work together and it comes out the her and Hotch is dating and Derek gives Hotch the big brother talk and Hotch propose to reader

A/N: Sure thing! Hope you enjoy it!

Birthday Revelations

Tags: Aaron Hotchner x Female!Reader (Who happens to be Derek's Sister!)

Word Count: 1.1k

Tags: Fluff, Birthdays, Big Brother!Derek, Non-BAU!Reader, Fem!Reader

The day started like any other at the BAU. Aaron Hotchner was buried in paperwork, managing the endless stream of cases and reports that came with the job. His relationship with you had been a welcome reprieve from the darkness of his work, a source of light that he had long been without. It was still new, but it felt natural.

He had gotten used to seeing you after hours or on weekends, sharing quiet moments over dinner or a glass of wine. You weren’t part of his world in law enforcement, and that was something he appreciated about you. It made the time he spent with you feel like an escape. Things were still new, but he felt something growing within him that he had not felt in a very long time. 

The bullpen was bustling as usual, with agents moving in and out, working on cases, and trying to catch a breather in between. Hotch didn’t pay much attention until he heard the sound of laughter—Derek Morgan’s laughter. 

That wasn’t unusual, but it was louder than normal today. Hotch knew it was Derek’s birthday today and assumed the rest of the crew was celebrating him, he figured he would join.

Walking out of his office, Hotch noticed Derek standing by his desk, grinning ear to ear, but soon realized the rest of the team was absent. Then, he saw you.

You were holding a small cake and smiling up at Derek, laughing as you exchanged a few words. For a moment, Hotch’s brain tried to make sense of it. He blinked, trying to piece together what was happening. What were you doing here?

Morgan turned and clapped a hand on your shoulder. "You didn’t have to do this, Y/N. I know you're busy, but I appreciate it," he said, still beaming.

You shrugged, a playful smile on your face. "Oh, please. Like I’d miss my big brother’s birthday."

Hotch froze, feeling the pieces click into place in his head. Big brother? His stomach did a slow roll, and he blinked again, trying to process the information. Derek Morgan was your brother. How did I not know this?

It suddenly all made sense—the way you carried yourself, that spark of protectiveness you had when you talked about your family, and even how familiar Derek’s mannerisms were when you were laughing together. Hotch’s world tilted slightly as the realization sank in.

You, his Y/N, were Derek Morgan’s sister.

Derek must have sensed something because, as if on cue, his eyes flickered over to Hotch, and for the first time, he seemed to notice the look of stunned realization on his boss’s face.

The grin on Derek’s face slowly faded, his eyes narrowing in curiosity, then widening in disbelief as he glanced between you and Hotch. It only took him a second to connect the dots.

"You’ve got to be kidding me," Derek muttered under his breath, just loud enough for Hotch to catch. Then he gave you a sideways glance, eyebrows raised. "Wait...Hotch is the guy you’ve been seeing?” 

You blinked, oblivious to the gravity of the situation. "What? Me and—oh, God." You turned, noticing Hotch’s stunned expression for the first time. Your mouth dropped open as you realized what was happening. "Oh my God. You didn’t know?" 

"No," Derek interjected before Hotch could respond, shaking his head. "Clearly not." He exhaled, pinching the bridge of his nose for a moment before looking back up at Hotch. "Hotch, you’re dating my sister?" 

You put down the cake and glanced between the two men, eyes wide. "You didn’t know we were related?"

Hotch cleared his throat, trying to regain his composure. "You have different last names. I had no idea," he admitted, his usual calm demeanor cracking just a bit under the sudden weight of the situation. He had faced down killers and hostage situations without flinching, but this—this was something else entirely.

Derek just stared at him for a moment longer before letting out a short, incredulous laugh. "Well, happy birthday to me," he muttered, shaking his head. "You’ve got some explaining to do, Hotch."

You bit your lip, clearly caught between amusement and embarrassment. "Derek, come on, it’s not that big of a deal."

"Not that big of a deal?" Derek’s eyes widened, but there was a playful glint in them. "Y/N, you’re dating my boss. That’s a pretty big deal."

Hotch, finally regaining some of his composure, stepped forward. "Derek, I didn’t know. I would’ve told you if I had realized—"

Derek held up a hand, cutting him off. "Hold up. You really didn’t know?"

Hotch shook his head. "No, I didn’t. Not until just now."

Derek let out a low whistle, shaking his head in disbelief. "Man, you’ve got guts. But I’ll tell you right now, Hotch—you hurt her,” Derek raises his finger to Hotch, pointing,  “and boss or not, you’re gonna have to answer to me."

You groaned, rolling your eyes. "Derek, come on. This isn’t necessary."

But Hotch, in his usual calm and measured way, simply nodded. "I understand. And I don’t intend to hurt her. I’m serious about Y/N. She means a lot to me."

Derek’s expression softened a bit, dropping his hand that was pointed at Hotch, though he was still sizing him up. "Yeah, well, you better be. She’s my little sister, and she’s been through enough. I’m just saying—if you mess this up, you’re not gonna like what happens."

"I won’t," Hotch said firmly, meeting Derek’s eyes. There was no hesitation in his voice. He knew what he felt for you, and now that he understood the full weight of it, he was even more certain. "I’m not going anywhere."

You glanced up at Hotch, a soft smile tugging at your lips as you heard the conviction in his voice. You slipped your hand into his, giving it a reassuring squeeze, and Hotch squeezed back, the two of you sharing a silent understanding.

Derek watched the exchange, his eyes narrowing slightly before he let out another exasperated sigh. "Alright, alright. I guess I’ll have to get used to this."

You grinned, stepping up to your brother and hugging him with one arm, "You know you love me, big brother."

Derek huffed, but he hugged you back. "Yeah, yeah. Just remember, Hotch, I’m watching you."

Hotch chuckled softly, nodding in acknowledgment. "Understood."

As the tension in the room slowly faded, there was laughter, a few surprised looks as the BAU team piled into the room, and a lot of teasing as Derek finally cut into the cake, all while keeping a wary eye on Hotch.

But amidst the joking and laughter, Hotch caught your eye again, and in that brief moment, he knew—no matter what, he was ready to stand by you. Even with your brother watching his every move.

[finelinevogue]

so proud

summary - the morning after the final show

word count: ~1k

pairing: boyfriend!harry x reader

The next morning was peaceful.

You woke up first and after having forgotten to close the blinds, the light was already streaming inside your bedroom window.

Harry’s Italian house being bought in the countryside meant there was no noise surrounding you. It was just the clattering of guests downstairs making breakfast and morning coffees.

You and Harry were normally early risers, but after last night you both deserved the lay in. Harry more so than you, but Harry can’t sleep without you so it meant you had to stay with him.

“Harry, bub.” You moved your hands over his bare back.

Harry was laying on his front, face smushed into the pillow from such a great nights sleep. After the final show, you’d all gone out for drinks to celebrate and then come back to the house for more celebrations. However, those celebrations mainly included you and Harry having endless rounds of sex until the early hours of the morning.

It was now ten in the morning and you both needed to be up to see some guests off.

You and Harry were staying for another few weeks, but Anne and others had lives and jobs to get back to.

“Mm.” He mumbled, his lips slightly rolled due to his face being engulfed by the pillow.

His hair was very messy and curly this morning. You started picking some piece off of his face, watching as his eyelids fluttered from the disturbance.

The sunshine was glazing over his body so perfectly.

He looked like a summers dream.

“Wake up, m’love.” You moved the covers down over his body to expose him to the morning air, kissing his bare back as you did so.

You kissed all his tiny moles and freckles, before kissing the one part of him that had only been yours and his for so long; his birthmark.

He hummed again as he felt you kiss him on his lower back.

“Kiss me a bit lower.” He mumbled cheekily.

You responded by nipping at his skin with your teeth. You made your way back up his body and kissed his cheek finally, watching his eye open.

“Hey, handsome.” You smiled, cupping his cheek and leaning down to awkwardly kiss him on his lips. It was a difficult position to kiss him in, but you didn’t mind.

“Hey.” He smiled, the pillow creasing slightly from the movement.

“How’s my shining star feeling this morning?” You asked, tucking his hair behind his ear. You mentally reminded yourself to give him a haircut soon.

“Still shining.”

“So proud of you.” You nuzzled your nose against his.

“You might’ve mentioned that last night.” Harry rolled over and snaked an arm around your waist in the process, so he could have a feel of you in the morning.

“I definitely showed it.” You teasingly smiled.

“You did, baby.” Harry smiled as he reminisced the night in his mind. He rubbed his fingers over his eyes with his free hand, waking himself up.

You watched him for a few moments, just watching him soak in the morning sun like he was an expert at it. He glowed so bright.

Last night was so incredible.

He shone so bright last night.

Brighter than the moon he admired so much.

You twisted your body as sat up more, facing the wall on the opposite side to Harry.

You looked to the ceiling as you tried to conceal your tears. You wiped under your eyes as you tried to push the tears back into your eyes, but no matter because the wall became blurry within seconds.

No sounds had to be made for Harry to know you were upset.

He sat up instantly and wrapped one arm around your waist and the other softly cupped your chin to direct your face to his.

“Hey? What’s with the tears?” He asked, frowning because he hated seeing you upset.

“I’m so proud to the point where I can’t stop crying.” You laughed, thinking it was such a silly reason for crying now that you’d said it out loud.

“Baby…” Harry said softly.

“Sorry.”

“It’s okay. No sorry’s needed. Cry all y’want, love. God knows I did all the crying last night.” Harry tried to lighten the atmosphere with a silly joke.

You laughed again. Harry used his fingers to wipe the tears below your eyes.

“I love you. So much.” You let him know.

“I know. I love you just as much.” He nodded.

“You’re so amazing. You’re so cool. You’re a star. What you did last night… Well done, baby. I’m just so proud.”

[swirlsandtwirls]

Lovely thoughts: Another hypnoslut whose job it is to keep you needy and compliant. Let me explain:

Imagine a chair. A brainwashing chair. Strapped down at the wrists and ankles, completely naked, every inch of you exposed. Screens above your head with spirals swirling and twirling lazily while hypnotic words and binaural beats drone in the headset covering your ears.

“Obedience is pleasure… pleasure is obedience… you obey… you comply… you sink… you don’t think…

You start to stir, slowly awakening. You see the spirals above, making your brain fuzzy, and head the beats, but they’re not enough to subdue you. The panic sets in as soon as you feel the restraints around your limbs. You’re struggling to recall when or how you got here. Come to think of it… you can’t seem to think of much at all…

This is wrong… it has to be…You begin to pull at the restrains in vain.

“Help!!” you cry, “I’m being held here against my will!”

You struggle but can’t seem to get yourself free. “Somebody, anybody, ple—“

Suddenly, you feel a warm tongue between your legs. Your body freezes and your mind comes to a sudden, unexpected halt. You feel pleasure and desire melt the panic and fear as your body begins to relax.

“N… no…….” you try to fight in vain as the words continue to instruct you.

“Obedience is pleasure… pleasure is obedience…”

The tongue continues its gentle, delicate licking, causing your body to respond immediately. You can’t move. You can’t fight. It feels too good…

“You melt at her touch… you sink at her touch…”

Your body and mind climb higher and higher as your arousal grows. You hear her softly moaning between your legs, sending vibrations of pleasure through your body. She seems to be enjoying this as much as you are. You want to close your legs but you don’t want her to stop…

“You cannot resist… cannot resist… give in to pleasure…”

“Can’t… resist…” you begin to mumble as a trail of drool starts to trickle from the side of your mouth.

“You do not want to resist…”

“Don’t… want to… resist…”

“You obey her tongue…”

“Obey…”

“You obey the spirals…”

“Obeyyyy…” more drool.

“Obedience is pleasure…”

“Obedience… pleasure…”

“And pleasure is obedience…”

“Pleasuuure…” you moan as her relentless tongue works you into a frenzy.

“Good toys don’t think… good toys just sink…”

“Siiiiiiiinnnkkkkkk…” the last of your mind slipping out of your mouth with the endless stream of saliva.

You lost this game before it even began. You never stood a chance.

And you know it.

And you want more.

Now would you want to be the helpless toy in the chair or the corrupted toy keeping the other toy compliant? 🙃

[sailorholly]

Between Us Pt. 4

Summary: You and Spencer had a casual relationship. A misunderstanding ruins it all.

Pairing: Spencer Reid × F. BAU Reader

Warnings: Friends with benefits. Pregnancy.

See my Masterlist here

Part 3

Hotch was the first person you told. You didn’t want to hurt the baby by running after an unsub in the future. You swore him to secrecy, still struggling with how to tell Spencer. Hotch made sure you were okay. He didn’t like Ashley and Spencer rubbing their relationship in your face right after he had called it quits.

“Unnecessarily cruel” he had called it. You didn’t think Spencer was aware that he had hurt you or that you have feelings for him. He would never do that on purpose. He probably thought you didn’t care, you did a good job of pretending not to. You broke down telling Hotch everything. You hated crying, but you sobbed in his office for thirty minutes. Thankfully, you came in an hour early to speak with him. These pregnancy hormones were awful.

Your first ultrasound appointment is in two weeks. You were grateful for the extra time to work up the courage to tell Spencer. You wanted him to come to the appointment with you. He would be a great dad, it was a shame that you weren’t together.

Now you’d have to watch him be the perfect dad to your baby while he was dating someone else. That hurt more than anything. You spent the whole week avoiding him. Every interaction he had with Ashley made you sprint to the bathroom, tears streaming down your cheeks. If anyone noticed that Hotch made you stay behind instead of going out to catch the unsub like usual, they didn’t say anything.

Things got tricky when the team went out for drinks after work on Friday like you did every time you weren’t out on a case in a different state. You were too tired to go. But Penelope begged you to come. You told her you would go, but you had a little headache, so you didn’t want to drink. That way she wouldn’t be suspicious.

Spencer noticed you were behaving strangely. You had been running to the bathroom to cry often. You hadn’t been drinking while going out. But he knew your dad was in poor health, so he tried not to linger on it. But he was worried about you. He was sure you would tell him when you were ready.

Spencer spent his free time with Ashley. She was a sweet girl and she really liked him. He felt guilty that every time he was with her, he compared her to you. She didn’t cook like you did. She didn’t let him ramble for hours. She didn’t laugh at his jokes. Her hair wasn’t as soft as yours.

Her kiss on his lips felt like poison where yours felt like coming home. He knew sex with her would be vastly different, so he avoided it. He told Ashley he wanted to take things slow, that he didn’t want to ruin it like he did with you.

Ashley tried her best to seduce him, but he would reject her every time. He found it odd that she would always bring you up. She would ask questions about what his time with you was like. Were you a better kisser? Were you good in bed? Did he have feelings for you? Spencer found himself lying to spare her feelings.

Spencer stared at his phone for an hour. “We need to talk” was all your text said, but it terrified him. He worried about it all night after you invited him for breakfast the next morning. Was it your dad? Did you have an illness that you needed to tell him about? The possibilities were endless.

“I don’t understand why I can’t go, I’m your girlfriend after all. I don’t like that you will be alone with her.” Ashley whined. Spencer was so frustrated with her. He rolled his eyes when he told her that they weren’t that serious yet. You were still his friend, and whatever you wanted to discuss was private. He let her know that he wouldn’t be telling her what you said unless you told him he could.

Spencer sat across from you filling his plate with the breakfast you made. He missed your cooking. Your stomach churned with nerves. This whole set up was a little too familiar for your liking. It reminded you of the last time you and Spencer were alone other than at work. He sat quietly, patiently waiting for you to tell him your reason for inviting him over.

You sat in silence for what felt like hours, too nervous to say anything. Spencer excused himself to go to the bathroom. You decided when he came back you would have to tell him. “What’s this?” He interrupts your stream of thoughts, walking toward you holding the pregnancy test you took earlier.

You took it last night and forgot to put it away. You were going to keep it as a sentimental thing. It was silly now that you thought about it. Especially with Spencer holding the test in his large hands looking at you wide eyed. “Surprise!” You say, standing to face him. “I’m pregnant.”

Tags

@cindylynn @wheredafandomat @multifandom-worlds @loz-3 @megharat-barnes-reid @kats72 @mochie85 @cakesandtom @spenciesprincess @kimm4710 @tmilover1993 @nomajdetective @cynbx @comboboo @134340ona @wannabewolf @weirdothatwritess @silver-tongue-taken-to-bed @freegardenbanananeck @lover-of-books-and-tea @maybe-not-this @drewsandsebastianswife @lamentis-10 @lizzyk137 @hypotheticallyspeakingwitch @rosylnsworld @amortencija @ah-blossom @xblueriddlex @dreamsarebig @khxna @diasnohibng @nommingonfood @sp3ncelle @pleasantwitchgarden @isakslilsmile @lavvylove @creaming4daddy @justdianaz @aubs444 @im-this-girl

[rose24207]

Shadows and Sunlight

Summary: In the dangerous world of Lando Norris, a ruthless mafia boss, his kind-hearted wife and their contrasting children create a family full of warmth, love, and the delicate balance between light and dark.

Genre: Mafia!Dad!Lando, fluff

TW: Mafia

A/N: I’m making a „series" with the storyline of the Norris Mafia Family and each story is something different! I’m excited for this! English is not my first language. I hope you Enjoy it though! Requests are open and welcome!

Mastesrlist

Lando Norris had earned a reputation as a ruthless mafia boss, a man feared by rivals and respected by his men.

But behind the iron gates of his sprawling estate, he was also a father to two children who couldn’t have been more different, and the husband to a woman who was his complete opposite in every way.

His wife, Y/N, was kindness personified—a bright light in the dark world he inhabited. She treated everyone, from staff to strangers, with a warmth that left them in awe.

Where Lando was sharp edges and stern gazes, she was soft smiles and comforting words. And somehow, their contrasting worlds had collided and formed a family.

Amelia, their ten-year-old daughter, was her father's mini-me. Sharp, fearless, and observant, she followed Lando around like a shadow, absorbing his every move. She had his fiery determination and knack for strategy, often shocking the staff with her maturity and assertiveness.

On the other hand, eight-year-old Jacob took after his mother. He was gentle, empathetic, and preferred books over confrontations, always seeking ways to help others.

It was a typical morning in the Norris household. The sun streamed through the tall windows of the kitchen as Y/N hummed while flipping pancakes.

Jacob was perched on a stool, helping his mother by carefully arranging fruit on a plate.

“Bananas go on the side, not on top,” Jacob instructed seriously.

“Yes, Chef,” Y/N teased, winking at her son, who beamed.

Amelia entered the kitchen, her face scrunched in annoyance. “Dad said I can’t come to the meeting today,” she announced, plopping onto a chair.

“That’s because you’re ten,” Y/N replied, placing a plate in front of her.

“But I could learn so much,” Amelia argued, glaring at her pancakes like they were the source of her problems.

“You’re not learning about mafia business at ten years old,” Y/N said firmly, ruffling Amelia’s hair.

Lando strolled into the kitchen, dressed in his usual black suit. “Amelia, what did I say about whining?” he asked, arching an eyebrow.

Amelia crossed her arms but didn’t push further. She idolized her father too much to openly disobey him.

Instead, she muttered, “Fine, but it’s unfair.”

Y/N placed a cup of coffee in front of Lando, kissing his cheek. “Morning, grumpy.”

He smirked, wrapping an arm around her waist. “Morning, sunshine.”

Jacob giggled at the exchange, while Amelia rolled her eyes. “Ugh, you guys are so mushy.”

Later that day, Lando had a rare afternoon off and spent it in his study. Y/N was in the garden with Jacob, helping him plant flowers, while Amelia hovered nearby, asking her father endless questions about the world he shielded her from.

“Why do you have so many guards?” Amelia asked, watching as two men patrolled the perimeter.

“To keep you safe,” Lando replied without looking up from his paperwork.

“But who’s going to protect you?” she shot back.

Lando glanced at her, surprised by the question. “That’s my job, Amelia.”

Before she could respond, Y/N entered the room, her presence like a calming breeze.

“Come on, Amelia. Help Jacob and me with the garden.”

“But—”

“No buts,” Y/N said, smiling but firm.

Amelia sighed dramatically but obeyed, leaving her father to chuckle softly.

————

Dinner was a lively affair. The family sat around the grand dining table, the staff quietly serving dishes while the children shared their day’s adventures.

“I planted sunflowers!” Jacob announced proudly.

“They’re crooked,” Amelia teased.

“They’re unique,” Jacob corrected, sticking his tongue out.

Y/N laughed, gently nudging Amelia. “Be nice to your brother.”

Lando observed the scene with a rare softness in his eyes.

Despite his cold exterior and the dangerous life he led, moments like these reminded him of what he was fighting for.

As the evening wound down, Y/N found Lando in their bedroom, leaning against the balcony railing, staring into the night.

“You’re quiet,” she said, joining him.

“Just thinking,” he replied, pulling her close.

“About the kids. About us.”

She smiled, resting her head on his chest. “You’re doing a good job, you know. Even if Amelia’s determined to take over the world.”

He chuckled. “She gets that from me.”

“And Jacob gets his kindness from you, too,” Y/N added softly.

Lando raised an eyebrow. “I think he gets that from you.”

Y/N smiled but didn’t argue. “We’re lucky, Lando. No matter how messy things get, we’ve built something good here.”

He nodded, kissing the top of her head. “We have. And I’ll protect it with everything I’ve got.”

In the Norris household, the balance of light and shadow, softness and strength, created a family unlike any other.

Thank you for reading!