#and when i tell you all the background noise went silent

[foolinthera1n]

show me who you are ─

the mark of cain weighs heavily on dean's shoulders, affecting all of you. when the bloodlust becomes too much, you know you have to help him. in the only way you can think of.

cw ─ slight angst, mark of cain!dean, very slight mention of sa/non-con (not from dean), blood, gore, canon-typical violence, smut!, fem! reader, praise kink, dirty talk, rough sex, overstimulation, fingering, unprotected p in v, sorry if i miss anything else!

☆ 💿PORNSTAR - nessa barrett

i wanna hear you talking dirty,

i wanna see it on your face.

⭒

it was getting worse, you could all see it. you, sam, cas - hell, even crowley could see it. the mark was slowly killing dean, and it was only getting worse.

it wasn't as obvious at first, just small outbursts here and there, but surely enough, it became more obvious. he was more snappy than usual, spent more time alone, and he would zone out more, hands either clenched into fists or one was clasped tightly over the mark on his forearm.

you didn't bring it up to him, that was the silent agreement that you, sam and cas had come up with, and you obliged to it. so you didn't tell dean how the far away look in his eyes made your brow furrow and your stomach churn with worry, or how your heart broke every night when you could hear him wake himself up from his nightmares. you didn't tell him how seeing him struggle, and refuse help, was slowly but surely breaking you down, and you definitely didn't tell dean that you missed him.

sure, he was right there, just down the hall from you, close enough that you could hear him in the ungodly hours of the night, restlessly rummaging around his room, but he still wasn't there. not the real him, not the dean that you knew. the dean you knew was being held captive by that horrid mark that not only haunted his dreams, but yours now too. you missed your dean, the one who told stupid jokes that made you choke on your beer. the dean who grinned proudly whenever you correctly named a song on the radio and who would sing a long loudly to his favorite led zeppelin songs, glancing at you as he drove.

drives are mostly silent now, save for the hum of the impala, or the quiet background noise of the radio, but still never those homemade tapes that he loved so much. he doesn't drink with you anymore, though he still does it an unhealthy amount. he drinks alone in his room, or late at night by himself in the kitchen, a glass of whiskey in his hand, his eyes staring somewhere far off. the only reason you even know this is because one night, when you couldn't sleep, you went to the kitchen for a glass of water and found him there, only to have him get up and leave with only a nod of acknowledgement to you.

it was killing him, and if you didn't do something about it, it was going to kill you too.

the hunt was supposed to be a cakewalk. it was just a nest of vampires not too far from the bunker, and dean insisted that he was fine, that the mark's screaming wasn't too much for him to bear and he was feeling good enough to go with you guys on the hunt.

after sharing a look with sam, you reluctantly relented, agreeing to let him come along under the condition that if he felt the bloodlust creeping in, he would back off and stay behind in the impala.

that leads to now, where you were currently kicking yourself for not doing recon before going in. the nest was bigger than you and sam had originally thought, there were probably double the amount of vamps than you had previously thought, and when you, him and dean had crept into the nest, one of the freshly turned ones - a child, no less - had spotted you and screamed, awaking the whole nest. and so here you were, wrestling with one of the female bloodsuckers on the grimy floor of the abandoned barn.

her dirt-caked nails raked down the sides of your neck, making you hiss in pain as you brought your knee up hard, hitting her in the stomach, effectively pushing her off of you. as soon as she was on her back next to you, you scrambled up, quickly grabbing your machete that the bitch had knocked out of your hands and turning back to her. without even giving her a chance to bare her fangs, you raise your bloodied machete over your head, bringing it down with a cry, cutting her head right off.

taking a second to breathe, you stand up, panting heavily as you brush some hair out of your face, turning your head to the side to spit out some blood, running your tongue over your teeth to get rid of the taste. your moment of rests is cut short though, when you hear a loud thud and the sounds of a struggle from the room next to you.

gripping your machete tighter and taking a deep breath, you rush out of the room you had been in, leaving behind the bodies of the three vamps you had killed. you sprint out the door, crashing through the room next door, your heart racing as you see sam in a struggle with two bloodsuckers.

you rush over, cutting the head off one before he even has the chance to fully turn around. the other one drops sam in surprise, turning to you and snarling, his disgusting rows of fangs glinting in the low light. using the vampire's moment of distraction, sam grabs his own machete and raises it, slicing the vamp's head clean off.

"you okay?" you ask, chest heaving as adrenaline courses through your veins.

sam nods, raising a hand to brush his hair back from his face, his own erratic breathing evidence of the fight. "yeah. yeah, i'm good. are you?"

"one of 'em got me good with her nails, but nothing fatal," you answer, tilting your head to show him the marks. he winces in sympathy, eyes raking over the angry red marks before he bends down to pick up a vial of dead man's blood. "where's dean?"

"not sure, i lost him once they jumped on us," sam says, brows furrowing as he pockets the dead man's blood, adjusting his grip on his machete. "maybe we should-"

whatever sam was going to say is cut off as a scream comes from the floor below. you and sam share a look, fear spiking in your chest before you both turn, racing out the door. you sprint through the hallway and down the stairs, sam right on your heels as you skip steps, landing shakily at the bottom. your eyes scan the landing, and you turn to call out to sam, but before you can get a word out, a hand grabs your arm, throwing you across the room.

you hear sam call your name behind you, but he gets cut off, and you assume that he has a vamp of his own to deal with. you push yourself up with a groan, but as your sitting up, a hand grabs your arm again, hauling you up and slamming you against the wall.

"well, would ya look at this," the vamp spits, his yellow stained teeth shown in a grin as he leans in, his putrid breath in your face making you want to vomit. "the winchester's brought their little girl toy. how nice of them to bring us a gift."

"go to hell," you spit, the words strained as his hand fists in the collar of your shirt, pressing against your neck as he raises you higher against the wall.

the vamp only grins wider, running his tongue over his small, cracked lips. his dark, greasy hair falls in front of his eyes, and his bloodshot blue eyes make him look crazed. he's bleeding from a fresh cut on his forehead, and you wonder if one of the boys had already got into it with him.

"ooh, and she's feisty," he snarls, smirking cruelly. he raises his other hand to brush his grime-covered fingertips over your forehead, running them through your hair.

you turn away from his touch, struggling in his vice-like grip as bile builds in your throat, but his smirk only grins, a low, dark chuckle leaving his crusted lips.

"that's just fine," he whispers, his hot breath fanning over your skin as he leans in to nose at your neck, inhaling deeply, ignoring your struggle in his grip. "i like it when they fight back."

his words make your heart pound, your chest tightening with panic, eyes wide with fear as you struggle in his tight grasp, arms flinging and nails scratching at anywhere you can reach, but he doesn't even flinch, his grip not loosening at all. you open your mouth to scream, hoping to get the attention of one of the boys, or anyone that will help you at this point, but the hand that was in your hair slaps over your mouth just as you part your lips, your scream muffled into his palm.

"ah-ah, be a good girl and stay quiet," he tuts, pulling back to bare his fangs to you. you just stare at him, eyes wide with fear as you continue to struggle in his hold. you squeeze your eyes shut as he leans in again, a tear slipping down your cheek.

"let her go."

your eyes snap wide open at the familiar voice of dean, gaze landing on him over the vamp's shoulder, relief filling you at the sight of him. he was standing there, blood splattered all over his clothes, face and hair, his grip white-knuckled on his machete. sam stands behind him, his own eyes wide with fear as they flick between dean and you in the monster's grip. you try to call out to them, but the sound comes out as a muffled whimper against the vamp's hand.

the bloodsucker turns his head to look behind him, his smirk faltering at the sight of dean. his fangs retract, but his grip on you stays vice-like.

"well if it isn't dean winchester," the vamp snarls, his hand over your mouth tightening slightly, making you wince. "come to save your little doll?"

dean's jaw clenches, his expression darkening even further as he stares at you and the vamp, taking a menacing step forward.

"i said - let her go," he growls, something dark flashing in his emerald eyes.

the vamp's eyes widen in fear at the look on dean's face, and his grip on you loosens slightly. that's the opening you need, and with all the strength you can muster, you bite down hard on his hand, simultaneously kicking your leg as hard as you can into his crotch.

the monster cries out in pain, his hands dropping you as they fly to where you kicked him. you fall to the floor with a small thud, catching yourself before you hit your head. you quickly stand up while the bloodsucker is distracted, and sam immediately rushes over to you, grabbing you and pulling you into his arms, backing you away from dean and the vamp.

"sam, wait, dean-"

"the mark's got him right now," sam cuts you off, his voice thick with worry as he holds you to him, soothing your trembling form. "we just gotta stay out of the way, there's nothing we can do."

his words sink in, and it's then you realize that the barn is quiet. your eyes widen in realization, and you turn your head to look up at sam, heart pounding in your chest.

"he killed them all?" you ask, your voice just barely above a whisper. sam's grim nod is enough to make you feel sick.

your attention is torn from that information as you hear the vamp cry out in pain, and when you look up, you see dean's got him on the floor, the vamp's head twisted at an odd angle as dean steps on his back, machete raised over his head.

"this is less than you deserve for touching her, you disgusting son of a bitch," dean spits, and you watch in horror as he raises his machete over his head, bringing it down in one smooth stroke, blood splattering across his face as he cuts the vamp's head clean off.

the barn is silent, save for dean's heavy breath and the pounding of your heart. dean's sleeve is torn, and you can see the mark pulsing an angry red, burning into his skin, the sight making your chest tighten even more.

dean doesn't move, he just stands there, chest heaving and eyes blazing as he stares at the dead body of the vamp, his knuckles white as he grips the machete, blood dripping from the blade onto the old wooden floor.

your heart aches in your chest, and you pull yourself from sam's arms, giving him a reassuring look when he tries to stop you. taking a deep breath, you take a small step towards where dean stands, your body still shaking slightly from adrenaline.

"dean?" you call softly, your voice gentle, trying not to startle him. you don't flinch when his eyes snap up to you, and though his body is still tense, you can see something soften slightly in his gaze when it lands on you. "can you put the machete down, please?"

to your surprise, he does as you ask, the blade falling to the floor with a clatter that echoes through the empty barn. you take that as an invitation to step closer, your eyes never leaving dean's as they follow your movements, his lips parted slightly as he breathes.

when you reach him, you tentatively reach your arm up, placing your hand on his arm, but he jerks back, sucking in a breath as he seemingly snaps out of whatever haze he was in. he takes a step back from you, eyes flickering between you and the severed body of the vampire on the floor.

"let's just go," he says, his voice hoarse and cold. with one last flickering glance up to you, he bends down to grab his machete before turning on his heel and walking to the entrance of the barn.

⭒

the drive back to the bunker had been silent and filled with a suffocating tension that made it hard for you to breathe. once you were back inside the bunker, it wasn't any better, dean not saying a word as he storms ahead, rushing off to his room and closing the door abruptly behind him.

you and sam don't say much as he checks over you for any serious injuries, and you for him. he just hugs you, pressing a kiss to the top of your head before heading to his own room. you follow suit, shedding your bloodied clothing in your room before grabbing a change of clothes and heading to the bathroom attached to your bedroom, which the boys had agreed to give you as one of the few that had it's own bathroom.

in the shower, you turn the heat all the way up, scrubbing the blood from your stained skin, washing off the hands of the vamp who had grasped you. you rub until your skin is raw, and even though you did the other day, you shave, just to feel that sense of normalcy instead of the sickly unease that crawls in your nerves. you wash your hair twice, ridding yourself of the blood and dirt you had collected in the barn, sighing as the steam melted against your skin.

as you stood there under the burning stream, you thought about dean, about the look in his eyes, the empty way he had walked away from you, and all of the pain he had been going through since he had taken the god-forsaken mark. you knew that the guilt from succumbing to the blood lust weighed heavily on his shoulders, and you just wished that there was some way you could focus that anger, that need on something else. and that's when the idea came to you.

immediately, you shut off the water, grabbing a towel and wrapping your hair in it, grabbing another one to wrap around your body, rushing back into your room and grabbing a different pair of clothes than you had previously chosen. you trade out the old sweatpants for a pair of sleep shorts, large sweatshirt for an old t-shirt that you stole from dean months ago, and tossing your plain panties, instead grabbing one of your nicer pairs, a dark red lace number that hugged you perfectly, foregoing a bra.

you tried not to think about how ridiculous this was as you slip on the clothes, taking your now semi-damp hair out of the towel and running your hands through it gently, getting out the leftover tangles. you splash water on your face, drying it off with a towel as you look in the mirror, chewing on your lip as you decide whether to put a bit of makeup on or not. you decide yes, just throwing on the slightest bit of mascara and eyeliner, adding just a bit of blush, and swiping over your lips with your cherry lip balm, pursing your lips to properly coat them.

you lean back and study yourself in the mirror, cringing at the bright red scratch marks on your neck before taking a deep breath as you consider what you're about to do. fuck it, you think, go big or go home, right?

with those words of wisdom to yourself and one last deep breath, you turn and walk of out the bathroom, and then out of the door to your room, heading into the hallway, your bare feet pad on the concrete floor as you make the short walk just a few doors down to dean's room. you stop in front of his door, taking a shaky breath before raising your hand, hesitating for a moment before knocking softly.

you hear shuffling, as if he's getting out of bed, and then the door opens and he's suddenly in front of you, arms crossed over his chest as he leans against the doorway.

your breath hitches at the sight of him, your stomach flipping as you look up at him. his hair is spiked and damp, reflecting the shower he probably just took, his stubble highlighting his jaw. his plaid pajama pants are slung low on his hips, just enough to show a sliver of skin between the waistband and the hem of his black t-shirt that hugs his shoulders tightly, stretching over his chest.

dean says your name in a low voice, tilting his head as he looks down at you. you snap out of your trance, flushing slightly as you realize you were caught staring. "what're you doing here?" he asks, and doubt pools in your chest.

"i...i have a proposal," you say, nervously biting your lip as you look up at him.

dean's eyes track the movement, his jaw clenching as he flicks his gaze back up to your eyes, brows raising in question. "a proposal?"

you nod, shifting anxiously on your feet. you take a breath, forcing yourself to calm down as you smile nervously up at him. "can i come in?"

he doesn't say anything, just continues to stare at you, pushing off the doorway and stepping back, allowing you to walk by him. you step into the threshold of his room, forcing yourself to push away the nerves as you stand in front of the bed. your eyes follow him as he closes the door behind you, walking over to stand in front of you, arms still crossed over his chest as he looks down at you.

"so, what's this proposal of yours?" dean asks, the rough timbre of his voice sending a shiver up your spine. you snap out of it, meeting his gaze head on as you speak.

"okay, i was thinking about the mark, and the blood lust." you can see his jaw clench at the mention of the mark and your stomach flips, but you continue. "so i thought, what if...what if there was another way to channel that?"

something flickers in his eyes at your words, and he raises his eyebrows in curiosity. "what d'you mean?"

you swallow nervously, biting your lip as you consider what you're about to say. "before i say it, i just want you to know that if this makes you uncomfortable then i can just go and we'll pretend that this never happened and-"

dean cuts you off with a grunt of your name, tilting his head as he narrows his eyes at you. "just spit it out-"

"i want you to fuck me." the words come out of your mouth before you can stop them, both yours and dean's eyes widening at the bluntness of them.

"you want me to-"

"fuck me," you restate, deciding to just go with your forwardness. "i was thinking about what the mark makes you feel, and how it makes you turn that into blood lust, but then i thought about what if you could channel it into something else. give you some other way to let go."

dean doesn't say anything, just stands there, nostrils flaring and jaw clenched so tight your worried he's going to break something as he stares at you, eyes raking over your features as if something in them is going to tell him that you're joking.

you look away as you flush under his stare, regret and embarrassment seeping into your chest. when he still doesn't say anything, you shake your head, biting your lip as you turn to head back towards his door. "i knew this was stupid, i'm sorry-"

dean doesn't even give you the chance to finish your apology as he grabs your arm and spins you back into his chest, pulling a gasp from your lips.

"stop doing that," he growls, and when you look up into his eyes, they're so dark it makes your breath hitch. his hand that's not gripping your arm comes up to cup your jaw, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip, tugging it lightly. "drivin' me fucking crazy."

you're too dazed by his sudden proximity to respond, the woody, leather filled scent that's so purely dean invading your senses and making you dizzy.

"let me get this straight," dean says, his voice low and slightly strained as he thumbs at your bottom lip, his eyes glued to the action. "you want me to fuck you, to get rid of the blood lust?"

you nod, lips parting automatically as he tugs at your bottom one, eyes wide as you stare up at him. "yea-yeah. it would still be letting that energy out, just in a different way," you tell him, your voice slightly breathless.

"and you want that?" he asks, eyes lingering on the way your lips brush his thumb as you speak before slipping back up to meet yours. "you want me to let go with you, sweetheart?"

you nod again, swallowing thickly as your mouth goes dry at the nickname. even though you'd heard it from his lips a thousand times before, this time it felt different, heavier, and you felt it weigh on your heart. "of course, if it'll help you-"

"no," dean cuts you off, growling your name and gripping your jaw tighter. "i'm asking you if you want this. not if you want to help me, i'm asking if you want me to fuck you, because if i won't touch you if you don't want this."

"i want this," you answer without hesitation, your voice breathy and your eyes wide, pupils blown with lust as you look up at him. "i wouldn't do this if i didn't want it."

dean groans, eyes clenching shut as if it's physically paining him to hold back, and his hand on your arm slides around your waist, tugging you flush against his chest. when he opens his eyes again, the sapphire green that wormed it's way into your heart is almost entirely swallowed by lust-blown black, the sight making your heart stutter.

"if we do this," he starts, his voice dangerously low. his hand caresses your waist before moving to your hip, gripping the flesh tightly through your clothes. "i'm not so sure 'm gonna be able to control myself. i don't wanna hurt you."

you shake your head, eyes determined as you hold his gaze, your hands coming up to his chest, fisting in his shirt and pulling him impossibly closer. "you're not gonna hurt me, dean," you whisper, pushing up on your tip-toes so that your lips are a breath away from his. "i want this, i want you to let go with me. i want you to use me."

dean just stares at you for a moment, his hand on your jaw moving to cup your cheek as his eyes bore into yours, jaw clenched and nostrils flared. as soon as his eyes flick back up to yours, something snaps in him and he surges forward, crashing his lips to yours.

you moan at the intensity of the kiss, your hands moving from his shirt to wind up into his hair, fingers tangling tightly in the still damp strands. his hands are suddenly everywhere, moving from your cheek to grip your hair, the hand on your hip slipping under your shirt to caress your bare skin, groaning against your lips when he finds that you're not wearing a bra.

your lips part instantly as you feel his tongue run along your bottom lip, moaning into his mouth as he tilts his head, running his tongue over your teeth before sucking your bottom lip into his mouth. your head is spinning as your teeth clash, your hands in his hair holding him tightly to you, arching your body into his.

when you both finally remember you need air, you pull back with a pop, a string of saliva connecting your now swollen lips. dean rests his forehead against yours, his hands finding a place at your hips, gripping them tightly as he catches his breath.

"last chance to back out," he breathes, looking at you with hooded eyes that make your knees weak.

"not a chance, winchester," you whisper back, your voice equally strained as you pant softly, trying to force air into your lungs.

dean groans at your words, and without hesitation, he slams his lips back to yours, one hand fisting in your hair as the other creeps up your back, pulling your shirt up with it until he has to pull away to tug it off you, throwing it somewhere. his pupils grow impossibly larger as he takes in your bare chest, your nipples pebbling as they're exposed to the cool air. his tongue darts out to wet his lips before he's on you, surging forward and capturing one of the hardened buds in his mouth.

you yelp softly at the sudden action, the sound melting into a moan as you arch into him, hands grasping at his hair to hold him to you.

"fuck, dean─" you gasp, head falling back as his tongue swirls around your sensitive skin, his hand coming up to cup your breast that his mouth isn't currently ravishing. after he's satisfied with the job he's done, he switches, bringing his mouth to your other breast, his hand moving to cup and grope the one his mouth had just been working at, pinching your nipple between his thumb and forefinger.

when you whimper his name as he bites at your bud, he pulls himself away from your chest with a pop, lips slick and eyes blown as he looks down at you. you stare up at him, eyes wide and lips parted as you pant, just taking in the sight of him, so worked up over you.

"fuck," he groans, jaw clenching as his eyes greedily rake over your flushed features, his spit-slick bottom lip caught between his teeth. your hooded eyes follow the movement, your faces close enough that you can feel his breath on your heated skin, which sends a shiver up your spine.

you've seen dean shirtless many times─patching him up, or when motel rooms got too hot, but this was different. now, his toned chest was heaving with heavy breaths, his tan skin flushed with desire just for you.

you're staring, lips parted as you pant heavily, your eyes greedily raking over every inch of skin he's offering to you. your hands twitch to reach out, to feel every ridge, dip and curve of his body, and you're too far gone to deny yourself.

you rush forward, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and attaching your mouth to his neck. your lips trail up his neck, sucking at a spot under his jaw that has him groaning your name in a way that makes your knees weak. you're sure you would've collapsed by now if dean's arms weren't wrapped so tightly around your waist you could feel his biceps flex against your skin as your mouth ravished his neck and up to his jaw.

you're craning your neck to reach his skin, and you're body feels so hot you're worried that it's going to burst into flames if you don't do something about it. the chorus of more, more, more chants in your head, fueling your trembling legs as the walk forward, walking dean backwards until the backs of his knees hit the edge of the bed.

he falls to sit on the bed with a grunt, his grip never loosening around you as you follow him, crawling into his lap eagerly, moaning into his neck when his bare chest presses against yours. you arch against him as you bite and suck on his neck, lips trailing down to nip at his collarbone, leaving a path of spit behind you.

"shit─need t'feel you, baby," dean rasps, his hands moving to grip your hips tightly, grinding you down onto him. you whimper in agreement, reluctantly pulling away from his salty skin, licking your lips to savor the taste of him.

you sit yourself up on your knees in his lap, cupping his face in your hands as you tilt his head back to look up at you, your thumb tugging at his bottom lip just as he did to you before. just the sight of him sends a wave of aching desire between your legs, your panties growing wetter by the second.

dean looks absolutely wrecked. his plush lips are parted and spit-slick, swollen from your bruising kisses, the white of his teeth peeking through the brightened pink as he pants heavily. his hooded eyes are so dark, the mossy green almost completely gone as he stares up at you with such reverence it makes your pounding heart stutter in your chest.

his rough hand squeezing your hips brings your attention back to the moment as he turns his head into your touch, lips ghosting your palm, his eyes staying locked on yours.

"c'mon, sweetheart," dean groans, his voice almost breathless as he squeezes your hip again, the action almost pleading. "can't take this anymore, just need you, need t'feel that pretty pussy 'round me."

his words make you moan softly, but they snap you into action. you scramble off his lap, stepping back from the cage of his legs as you hook your fingers in the waistband of your sleep shorts, bending over towards him as you tug them down, shimmying them over your hips and thighs until they fall to the floor.

dean's eyes hungrily watch your every movement, jaw clenching tightly and a low groan escaping his lips as the delicate red lace of your panties is exposed to him.

"son of a bitch," he mutters, his voice a breathless whisper so quiet you almost miss it.

feeling spurred on by his words, you step out of your shorts, leaving them on the floor as you stand between his legs again and start to sink down, your mouth watering at the thought of tasting him. but his arm shoots out to grab yours, stopping you from dropping to your knees with a grip so tight you think it might leave bruises. your pussy clenches at the thought, the idea of looking in the mirror and seeing the mark of him on your skin, as a reminder of this chance you may never have again, nearly making your eyes roll back.

"no, no," dean practically snarls, straightening you up as his hands go to the waistband of your panties, ripping them from your body with a ferocity that makes you gasp. "next time baby, i promise, i'll let you use your fuckin' gorgeous mouth on me, but right now i need to fuck that pretty pussy until you can't even think anything but my name."

a breath leaves your lungs in a shaky gasp, the filthiness of his words making your head spin.

"okay─" is all you can manage, your voice shaking as he tugs you back into his lap, groaning when he feels your bare, hot core against his still clothed and straining cock. he doesn't hold the position long though, because in a blink of an eye, he has you flat on your back, breasts heaving as you stare up at him, your eyes wide and needy.

you part your lips to comment something about how he still has pants on, but the words catch in your throat as a moan when his fingers suddenly swipe through your weeping heat. you arch your back against the mattress, trying to push yourself up against his fingers as they circle your throbbing clit, sending sparks of pleasure behind your eyes.

"that's it, that's my girl─ fuck, you're so fuckin' pretty," dean praises, leaning over you to suck one of your peaked nipples into heated mouth.

his words make you whimper, and your hips buck up desperately into his hand, chasing the burning pleasure he's making you feel. "shit, dean, please, please─"

your whines are cut off into a moan when he plunges the same fingers that had been working your aching bud into your sopping cunt, your walls instantly tightening around his digits.

"i know, pretty girl, i know," he croons, his raspy voice muffled against the heated skin of your chest. his plush lips trailing up to your neck, his stubble scratching at your sensitive skin as he noses under your ear, teeth tugging gently at your earlobe. "jus' give me one before i fuck you, yeah? wanna feel you come around my fingers before i fuck you stupid on my cock."

you whimper in response, tossing your head back against the mattress with a moan as he drives his fingers into your heat again and again, curling them just right to hit that gummy spot deep within you that makes your toes curl.

"oh god, oh god─" you babble, eyes squeezing shut as you feel the band in your stomach tightening, pulling you closer and closer to the edge. "dean, close, m'so close─"

your words only encourage him, his teeth tugging at your ear once more before he trails them up to your jaw, resting his forehead against your cheek. he presses his lips to the burning skin there as his thumb moves to circle your clit, making you cry out under him, your hands flaying to his shoulders, nails digging into the taut skin as you buck against his hand.

"yeah? y'gonna cum, baby? gonna soak my fingers like the good girl you are?" dean coos, lips moving against your cheek, letting his teeth graze your skin. "c'mon, pretty girl, cum on my fingers so this perfect fucking pussy can take me like she needs to."

you fly over the edge with a cry of his name, eyes rolling back and spine arching as your orgasm crashes over you, stealing the air from your lungs. your legs tremble around him, and you can feel his smug smirk against your cheek, your mind too fuzzy to comprehend the words he mumbles against your skin.

his fingers don't stop, working your soaked pussy until your whining, squirming away from his touch as your eyes flutter open, mouth slack as you gasp for breath. your eyes flick up to dean as he moves his face to hover over yours, and his hand has moved but he's not saying anything, and he's just staring at you, and the reverence in his eyes makes you want to shrink, but there's nowhere for you to go.

"dean," you whisper, your voice still shaking and barely audible as your eyes search his, trying to read his expression. he still doesn't say anything, just watching you with his devastatingly beautiful eyes and making you feel like he's worshipping you with his gaze. "what's wrong? do-do you want to stop─"

"do you know," dean mumbles your name, cutting you off effectively. "how fucking beautiful you are?"

the unexpected compliment makes your breath hitch, your heart pounding so loudly in your chest you're sure he can hear it. all you can do is stare up at him, and he's so close you can count every freckle on his impossibly perfect face, the moment so intimate it makes your heart clench in your chest.

"you drive me goddamn crazy," he continues, pushing himself up to stand between your legs that hang off the edge of the bed. his hands drift down to the waistband of his pants, pushing them and his boxers down in one swift movement, his eyes never leaving yours as he kicks them away. "you make me forget everything, y'know that? you make me forget about this damn mark on my arm, you're in my head and then suddenly, all the mark wants is you."

your eyes drift down to between his legs, your mouth watering as you see his cock, hard and heavy in front of you, already red and leaking precum. when you continue to stare, dean leans over you again, grasping your chin in his hand, forcing you to meet his eyes.

"i mean, fuck, just look at you, sweetheart," he breathes, his gaze raking over you, lingering on your heaving breasts before flicking back up to meet your eyes. "look so fucking gorgeous...all fucked out 'n stupid just from my fingers."

you only whimper in response, the sound breathless and soft as your spinning head tries to process his words. "please, dean," you rasp, your pleading eyes searching his, lifting your hips up to try and feel hi until he groans softly, eyes fluttering. "need you, please, fuck me.."

he stares at you for another moment, his jaw ticking and you can feel his cock twitch against your inner thigh. he finally moves again, reaching out and grabbing a pillow, lifting your hips and placing it under you. when he decides you're properly situated, he settles between your spread thighs, grasping one tightly in one hand while the other pumps himself slowly. he leans over you, guiding himself to your weeping entrance as your hands fly to his shoulders, grasping at the hard muscles.

he suddenly stops just before his leaking head brushed your folds, the hand on your thigh tightening as his eyes flick up to yours. "condom?" he asks, his voice strained as he forces himself to hold back.

you shake your head, biting your lip as you watch the way his pupils dilate, the sight making your aching core clench around nothing. "wanna feel you, all of you."

"fuck," he groans, his eyes slipping shut as he pumps himself faster, lining up with your aching pussy again. "baby, you're gonna be the death 'f me."

you just hum in response, your eyes glued to where he rubs his red, swollen tip through your puffy folds. with one more squeeze of your thigh, he pushes in, punching harmonic moans out of both of you. your back arches, eyes rolling back as your tight walls stretch around him, the pleasurable burn making your nails dig into his skin.

dean watches you, eyes wide and blown so dark with desire he looks almost crazed, staying still as he lets you adjust to the feeling of him inside you. "that's it, look at you, takin' me so well," he praises, rolling his hips gently to see your reaction.

"ohh shit," you moan, a gasping whimper catching in your throat when he rolls his hips again. he grasps your hips with both hands as leans over you, his bare chest pressing against yours. he stays like that, keeping still longer than he did before, and it doesn't take long until your squirming under him, whimpering softly as you grasp at his shoulders. "move, dean, please─"

as soon as the plea leaves your swollen lips, his hips snap harshly against yours, making you cry out, your eyes flying open to meet his. your mouth goes slack, lips parted in a silent scream and your brow furrowing as he pistons his hips into you, changing angles slightly until he hits that gummy spot deep in you that makes you cry out his name.

"yeah, yeah, i know, pretty girl, that's it right there, huh?" dean's voice is strained, the words a groan against your lips as he licks into your slack mouth, making you mewl under him, the sound only encouraging him to go faster. "squeezin' me so tight, shit, perfect fucking pussy was made for me, fuck─"

he pounds into you mercilessly, your tight walls tightening around his cock, sucking him in as his tip hits your cervix, making stars flash in your eyes. you swear you can feel him everywhere. his hot breath against your parted lips, calloused hands gripping your thighs and sliding up to your chest to pinch and tweak at your hardened buds, his cock making you so full you swear you can feel him in your throat.

you can feel your release creeping up on you, your hands slipping down to grip his biceps, moaning when the muscles flex under your touch. dean seems to sense that you're getting close, and he moves one hand from your chest, trailing his fingers down your torso until he reaches your clit, rubbing tight circles on the aching bud.

the sudden overwhelming pleasure makes you cry out, eyes rolling back as you claw at his skin, broken mewls and gasps leaving your lips. "dean-!"

"yeah, fuck, beautiful, say my name," he groans, dropping his head to your neck, his hips never faltering their bruising pace. "want you scream it when you cum around my cock."

"oh shit," you gasp, hands flying to his back, nails dragging down his skin as you feel yourself getting dangerously close to the edge. "close, shit, m'close dean─"

"yeah, i know, baby, can feel you squeezing me." his fingers speed up on your throbbing clit, and with just the smallest bit of added pressure, the band in you snaps. hard.

you think you scream, but your brain shuts off as your orgasm crashes through you, the pleasure mind-numbing and paralyzing. dean continues to fuck you through it, his hips faltering as he feels your walls clamp down on him with your release.

"fuck, that's it. good girl, good fucking girl," he grunts your name into your neck, his voice strained as you feel him twitch in you, his thrusts just extending your orgasm and melting into another one. "you don't know how fucking long 've wanted this. your perfect fucking pussy gripping me so tight, fuck─ you were made for me, fucking made for my cock, never gonna let you go after this, ngh, you're mine now, sweetheart. all fucking mine."

he continues to babble as his hips falter, lifting his head from your neck to crash his lips to yours, devouring your mouth with his teeth and tongue.

"gonna cum in your tight fuckin' pussy, gonna fill you up, make you feel me for days." you whimper into his mouth, the two of you more so just panting into each other's mouths rather than kissing.

"please, dean, need it, need you so bad," you moan, feeling that band tighten once more. "wanna feel you, please, please─"

"oh fuck, gonna cum," he gasps your name into your mouth, his grip on your hips tightening, and somewhere in the back of your fucked out brain you register that there are definitely going to be bruises there tomorrow. "fuck, m'gonna cum─"

he thrusts once, twice, burying his face in your neck and then his hips still, pressing his cock as deep into you as he can get as he twitches, groaning loudly as he spills into you, his release hot and heavenly in your tight walls. the feelings sends you over the edge again, a weak, broken cry leaving you as your vision practically goes white with pleasure.

you stay like that, trembling and panting softly under him, your eyes hooded and hazy, your shaking hands slipping from his shoulders and falling to his biceps weakly. for a long moment, dean doesn't move, just breathing heavily into the crook of your neck, his lips brushing your sensitive skin with every breath.

eventually, he shifts his hips, moving to pull out, and the movement makes you whimper from the oversensitivity. instantly, dean pulls back from your neck, his brow furrowed as he looks down at you, his gaze filled with concern.

"shit, did i hurt you?" he asks, and you can hear the panic creeping into his tone. "i'm so sorry sweetheart, i didn't mean to─"

you cut him off with a shake of your head, forcing your eyes to focus as you look up at him, a weak, fucked-out smile forming on your lips. "you didn't hurt me, dean," you assure him, your voice raspy. "i'm fine, just sensitive."

"oh okay," he says, nodding and lets out a breath as if he'd been holding it.

he takes another moment, eyes raking over your face again, and he looks like hes't going to say something, but he bites his lip, pushing down whatever it is. slowly, he lifts himself on his arms, pushing up so he's almost sitting, squeezing your thigh comfortingly as he pulls out. you wince slightly at the movement, shivering when you feel his release dripping from your spent cunt.

he pulls away from you completely, standing up and walking over to the corner of his room and your stomach sinks as you watch him rifle through his stuff. you knew this was coming, the part where he awkwardly mumbled a thank you and you take his rejection without a word, making the walk of shame back to your own room, and you never speak of this again.

you can feel the familiar burn of tears forming behind your eyelids as you push yourself up, placing your feet on the ground. you don't look up at him as you lean over, grabbing your discarded shirt from the floor. you bite your lip anxiously as you stand up from the bed, intending to put your shirt on only to stumble and sway as your weak legs shake under you.

"woah, woah─" dean's arm comes around your waist, catching you before you can fall and you lean against him without really meaning to sighing at the warmth of his chest. "where do you think you're goin'?"

he turns you in his arms so your chest to chest with him, and you keep your eyes glued to his anti-posession tattoo, not quite ready to look him in the eyes and see the rejection. "i'll just get dressed and go back to my room─"

"hey, what? no," he interrupts, confusion lacing his words. his hand moves to cup your chin, tilting your head up until you have no choice but to look into his eyes. his brow is furrowed, and you have the sudden need to reach up and smooth the crease with your fingers. "why would you do that?"

your lips part to speak, but no words come out as the intense emotions in his eyes steal your breath.

dean says your name in a low voice, his gaze roaming over your face as his thumb stroked your cheek gently. "did you think i was gonna kick you out?"

"i...i didn't think you'd want me to stay," you admit in a breathless voice, eyes wide as you stare up at him.

he doesn't say anything for a moment, just gazing down at you as his hand raises to brush some of your hair away from your face, and if hekeeps looking at you like that you think you might catch on fire. "i meant what i said."

the words are so simple, so blunt that you don't know what he's referring to. "what are you talking about?" you ask, slightly breathless as your brow furrows in confusion.

"what i said, earlier, i meant it," dean repeats, the hand that's not cupping your chin raising to your forehead, his thumb stroking at the crease between your brows, the tenderness making your breath hitch. "i've wanted you, wanted this for so long, sweetheart."

his words stop your heart, and you look up at him with wide, shocked eyes. you can feel your pulse pounding in your chest, your shirt in your hand falling to the floor as your lips part in shock. "you have?"

"yeah," he mutters your name, both of his hands moving to cup your face now, and you subconsciously lean into his touch, making him smile softly. "i have. i'm honestly surprised you didn't notice before. even cas said i was bein' obvious."

your head reels from his confession, the words processing in your still slightly hazy mind. "you...what?" you ask, still staring up at him with wide eyes.

"i mean, hell, how could i not want you?" dean chuckles, almost to himself as he gazes down at you. "you're smart, 'nd funny, and you could kick my ass any day of the week. not to mention you're so fucking beautiful it makes me weak."

"you...you really mean that?" you ask, brow furrowing in doubt. "you're not fucking with me?"

he shakes his head, smiling down at you as his thumbs continue to caress your cheeks affectionately. "you, this...it's all ive wanted for a long time."

"i..." you start, unsure of what to say as you search his expression for any hint of him lying. when you find none, a smile matching his spreads across your lips, and you lean into his touch, bringing a hand up to rest over his. "ive wanted this too. for a while, actually."

dean grins at you─a real, wide, boyish grin that lights up his ethereal features, making your heart stutter in your chest. "i guess we're both idiots then."

"i guess we are..." you agree, pushing up on your tip toes to ghost your lips over his. you hover there, just breathing him in, eyes flicking between his before you close the gap, pressing your lips softly to his.

its nothing like the kisses you shared before. in fact, it's really just the gentle press of your lips to his, savoring the way his smile feels against you, and you suddenly don't know how you've lived your whole life without kissing dean winchester like this. you certainly don't think you can live without it now that you've experienced it.

after a few savored moments, you pull away, smile staying on your lips as your eyes flutter open. your hand slides along his arm, and you feel him tense when your fingers brush over the mark.

"i trust you, dean," you whisper, curling your fingers over the raised skin, squeezing his forearm lightly. "i know you would never hurt me, and i need you to know that im not going to leave."

"but-" he starts, but you cut him off by raising your free hand to press a finger to his lips.

"no buts," you counter, shifting your hand to cup his cheek, smiling lovingly at him. "just because you think you're dammed doesn't mean you actually are. because you aren't. no matter what you think of yourself, it will never change the fact that you, dean winchester, are the good man. the best man ive ever known, and ill be damned if i let you think any less than that."

"sweetheart..."

"stop. don't fight me on this─"

"i wasn't gonna fight you─"

"yes you were, i could see it─"

he says your name, low and serious, but there's still a soft smile on his face. "you're too damn good for me."

"what did i just say─"

"just let me say this, will you?" he says, giving you a look that makes you shut your mouth, eyes locked on his. he sighs, just staring at you for a moment before he speaks again, his voice softer than you've ever heard it. "youre too good for me, i know that. you're too smart, too kind, just too damn good. but damnit, i want to be selfish so bad and keep you for myself."

you just smile at him, eyes slipping shut as you lean up again to kiss him a little deeper than the one before, but still soft nonetheless. "you have me, dean," you whisper against his lips, your eyes still closed. "you've always had me."

"i don't want to hurt you," he mumbles, and you can feel his furrowed brow as he leans his forehead against yours.

"you won't hurt me."

"you don't know that─"

"yes, i do." your tone is sharp, and it makes his eyes snap open to meet yours again. at this proximity, you can see the specks of gold that flicker in the deep emerald that makes your heart skip a beat. "we'll figure this out, dean. we'll get through this and get that damn mark off you. we'll figure this out, together."

dean smiles at that, a soft, relieved curve of his lips that makes the corners of his eyes crease. he looks at you with so much emotion and affection that you want to just crumble into him and never let him go, hide him away from the world so that it can't hurt him more than it has. "together," he repeats, his voice a hushed whisper.

you can tell that he believes you, and the thought makes pride swell in your chest. you may not know much about your fucked up lives at the moment, but the one thing you know for sure is that you were never going to let dean go through it alone. ever.

a/n, this ended up being way longer than i intended, but oh well. anyways, i can't get moc!dean out of my head, so here we are... and happy late new years!

ps, the end was written at 3 in the morning (again) so i sincerely apologize if the ending is rushed

[cinaminrolll]

BRO BRO GET DENJI OUT OF THERE!! THIS IS NOT OKAY!!

…i feel sick, just sick

[hannieehaee]

Idk if you're taking requests but I would give it a short and it would mean so much if you actually wrote smthg bout it.

An angsty fic/drabble where woozi and reader are in a long term established relationship and the reader gets their absolute dream job opportunity but it's far from Korea and she tells it to woozi but they get conflicted since woozi cannot transfer between his work and seventeen and reader does not want to give up this once in a life time opportunity. At the same time they are sceptical about a long distance relationship since reader had already been fed up of how less they get to see and stay with woozi with him travelling and working constantly.

You don't have to write it if it's too complex but I'd love to see cuz I really like the way you write!

content: idol!woozi x nonidol!reader, established relationship, light angst, fluff, long distance relationship, etc.

wc: 716

a/n: thank u so much!! im so sorry for how long i took to get this out!!

masterlist

it'd been a week since you told jihoon about your new work opportunity. a week since the air in your apartment became just a little bit colder and the future slightly more grim.

jihoon had been supportive immediately, congratulating you and insisting on you accepting the position. he'd been as supportive a boyfriend as he'd been in the past two years of your relationship. it filled you with warmth and hope for the future of your relationship.

it wasn't until you'd let him know of the location of said job that things became more sad than hopeful.

although he still maintained his supportiveness, there was now a clear air of worry in his voice any time it'd get brought up.

you'd tried to ignore it, pushing it aside until you found the courage in you to actually accept the position. it was your dream job. a once in a lifetime opportunity. except it was an entire country away from the love of your life. and you only had three more days to accept the offer letter they'd sent to you.

the thought of doing long distance would have been fine had you been anyone else. but you barely got to see your boyfriend as it was. living with him was really the only way for you to spend time together. his busy idol schedule had him going all over the world, and when he was at home he was usually ever at the company or in your shared apartment.

if you left, you'd give up on ever getting to see him.

"babe."

the voice took you away from your train of thought. the same train of thought distracting you for the past week.

you looked away from the tv that had been playing in front of you. you hadn't even been watching it, but the background noise helped.

jihoon was at the entrance of the living room, two mugs in hand as he walked over to you and took his usual seat, silently handing you your mug with a tight smile.

not even a single sip from your drink was taken before the subject filled the room once more.

"you need to take this job."

"jihoon ..."

"no, listen," he turned his body to face you, "you and i, we're a forever thing, okay? i don't care if we have to be away for a while. i'm already living my dream, it's unfair that you don't get to do the same," he argued with conviction in his eyes.

"but, jihoon ... it won't be like when you're touring. we'll never be in the same country at the same time, i-"

his hands went to take your mug, placing it on the coffee table before taking your hands into his own.

"i don't care!", his voice raised without meaning to, "so we'll have a year or two in which we can't be as close as we've always been, so what? it won't matter in the grand scheme of things. we'll be together for forty- no fifty years. a few years of uncertainty won't matter a few years from now. babe, please."

his voice pleaded at you.

he was afraid you'd end it all instead of at least trying.

what made it worse that he refused to consider a possibility in which you didn't go and follow your dream. it was a done deal to him. he loved you that much.

that was all you needed to make a decision.

"i'll take the job," you said decisively.

jihoon released a sigh of relief right away, hand squeezing your own in encouragement.

"i-i'll rent a place big enough for the two of us over there. i'll ask for a week off every six months. i'll have it written into my contract so i can go visit you. and- and we'll keep this place here for any time you have time off. we'll call every night, no matter what. even if it's just for two minutes, we'll- we'll make it work."

all you could do was smile at him.

how could you ever worry about change when he was willing to work so hard to move along with it all?

you kissed him then, shutting him up with no words.

and he understood, kissing you back with just as much unspoken love.

[islayhawkin]

Night out

john price x autistic!f!reader

summary: john takes you out for a drink with his team

A/N: this shows the parts of autism from my own experience. Doesn't mean everybody has the same experience. Husband John is so cute.

Found out that I'm way better at writing angst than fluff haha oops

Fluff

It was a friday evening when john took you out to meet up with his comrades. You were introduced to them before but you never really spoke to them. Mostly because john took measures to keep his private life -you- separated from his work. But he came home today and was going to meet up with them just as friends outside of work so he asked you to come along since he didn't want to leave you alone immediately after he just returned.

So it happened that you were sat next to your husband in the car while he drove you both to the bar they agreed to. When you watched him drive you couldn't help but admire the way he effortlessly switched gears and scanned the street through the front as if he was checking a battlefield. He smiled and rested his hand on your thigh once he met your gaze. "You tell me if they make you uncomfortable alright? They can be quite...well you know how soldiers are." he told you in that gruff voice of his, but he somehow made it sound incredibly soft.

"I will. Thanks." You smiled at him and squeezed his hand gratefully.

"Of course."

"There's a toilet, right?" you asked as your mind was already in the bar.

"Yeah 'course. I'll show you." he reassured.

"Okay good."

He glanced at you a few times during the ride. Clearly observing the slight tension in your body and how you tapped your fingers anxiously on your knee, but he didn't comment on it.

After a few minutes of silent driving, he parked the car on the side of a street, shut the motor off and went out to open the door for you before you were able to pull a jacket on. The sound of your shoes could be heard on the gravel in the otherwise quiet street as well as the slam of the door behind you.

John offered his arm and you settled your hand in the crook of his elbow. His form shielded you from the street as he always insisted to walk on the side closest to the ongoing cars. Usually, you would have felt unsettled to walk in such a quiet part of the city in the dark but with john by your side you felt the safest you could ever be.

A torrent of noise engulfed you the moment you stepped foot into the bar. People talking, music playing in the background, glasses clanging. John guided you through the group of people to a table in the back. Loud laughter on the right. A door swinging shut on the left. The arm of a man pushing you slightly into John's side.

He pulled you close to him and cleared the path as well as he could. Apparently, John's friends were already there. He greeted them as the three men stood up and clapped each other on the back rather roughly it seemed to you. You had to do without his arm as support now so you busied yourself with your hands while swaying from one side to the other. Their mouths moved but you weren't able to make out their words through all the noise.

When John stepped back one of them stretched their hand out for you and you took it as your cue to shake his hand and smile at them politely while another man -the other Johnny you recalled- shook your hand. The hand was big but slimmer than John's and slightly sweaty. You wiped your palm against your clothes to rid the feeling, but the urge to wash them lingered.

Kyle and ghost made their way over to the bar to grab you all drinks while you sat down around the table. John arranged the seating so you would only sit next to him and not squeeze in between the men. He leaned his head down and grabbed your hand softly in his.

"You good?" he muttered in your ear. His eyes scanning your face. "It will get quieter soon."

You nodded and grasped his hand back.

One of his fingers pointed in the direction to the left. "There are the toilets"

You followed his eyesight until you spotted a door in the corner. You nodded and moved your thumb up and down over the back of his hand in a soothing manner.

Soap leaned over the table with a smug look on his face. "...never seen the captain like this..." You looked between John and Soap. John was already sighting exasperated next to you.

"What do you mean?"

Soap laughed. He looked carefree as the laugh took over his whole face. You rarely saw such a laugh on John.

"He's all lovey-dovey with ye. We know him to be a lot differently." Soap grinned.

You glance at john next to you, who rubbed his eyebrows, already embarrassed. But there a was a slight pull in his lips that told you he enjoyed people seeing you with him. It made a feeling of warmth spread through your body at his reaction. He looked almost... proud? Maybe you were just interpreting too much into it.

"Wha- how do you mean?" You leaned back over to soap. Careful to put enough distance between you but still being able to hear him.

"Well ya kno', he's a pretty harsh captain. Always scoldin us, shoutin around the field. Doin things that... are verra different from how he treats ya. All soft and gentle."

"Oh. I guess it would be weird if he was that way on the field too. I don't know him any differently..." you shrug.

"Oh lass we're gonna have a lot of fun." he winked. John already feared what he was talking about.

"Alright I think that's enough gossipin about me now."

Soap just laughed but to john's luck gaz and ghost came back with the drinks in hand and sat down next to soap.

The drinks were handed around the table leaving you empty handed. "Cap said you don't want anything, you sure?" Gaz asked as he noticed it.

You nodded with a smile. "Yeah thanks. I drink from john's." You pointed to the drink in front of john.

Gaz gave a nod. "Well let me know if you change your mind ma'am."

You smiled genuinely this time. Being called ma'am wasn't a usual occurance in your life, but every soldier you met did it. It was respectful. You appreciated that. Especially when john had adressed you with it at the beginning of your relationship.

The men started a easy conversation sometimes asking you questions to involve you. It was difficult to hold a conversation when you could only understand half of what they were saying, but over time the bar began to quieten down which made you feel more at ease.

You took john's glass to drink even though you didn't know what it was. Something non-alcoholic since he was driving but still bitter. Just the way john liked it.

John apperantly saw the grimace you made at the taste. "I can get you a other one if you don't like this one, love"

"It's fine."

John scanned your face. He knew you too well and it wasn't the first time you went out together. There were two possible reasons why you didn't want to drink. Either you thought it too expencive or you were too anxious to get anything down.

"I want you to drink something nice. You don't worry about the price alright? You're my mrs. Price I can afford you a drink." He smiled and lowered his head to get to your eye-level. He always did this. You didn't know if he was aware of it. But somehow he was able to make himself look smaller and less intimidating with his body language.

Your eyes shied away to settle on his lips instead. "Okay." You grinned sheepishly. "You know me too well."

Johns face lighted up triumphically. "I'll get it. Be right back." He pecked your temple before walking over to the bar.

The moment he left the table gaz and johnny started talking to you too.

"You know he's thinkin about you all the time when we're out. Always carrin' that picture with him and worryin'."

"-all he does is worry. Can be bloody annoying, no offence." Ghost piped in.

"...also the first few nights" johnny wistled. "He must miss you much-"

"Johnny don't talk like that to the lady."

Soap looked offended. "She knows that for sure! Not something that's unknown to her probably."

You laugh and raise your brows ammused. "I made my assumptions. Even though john rather always seems to complain about you three"

They laugh and slap eachothers arms before engaging in a animated talk about the topic.

The later it get's the more energy was drained. You had an almost blank look on your face and weren't able to make polite smiles anymore neither engaging in the conversation. John noticed of course. He observed the way you became quieter over the evening and seemed to sink into yourself. Even when he saw you this way so many times before it seemed his heart couldn't take you being unhappy in any way. It made him want scoop you up and bring you home. He hated not being able to shield you from everything. Even the others were shooting their captain confused looks.

"You okay?" John muttered, only for your ears to hear.

You nodded. "Can we go home soon?"

"Of course. You tired?" He brushed a calloused thumb over your cheek.

You nodded in response. "If you wanna stay I can wait a bit. I don't want to cut your evening short."

He smiled reassuringly. "I need to get you home."

Relief flooded through you even though you felt guilty for pulling john back again.

"Alright lads. We'll be going. The missus needs to put this old man to bed." He joked.

Even though it was a joke it meant a lot to you. He took the blame for your departure. It made you blink up at him in disbelief.

The men made some comments and complained about you leaving so soon but goodbyes were given and a moment later john led you out of the bar. His hand resting gently against your back.

Your walk to the car was silent but you could feel his glances on you. It wasn't in a uncomfortable way, it made you feel looked out for.

"Why did you do that? Lie about us leaving."

John looked slightly taken aback by the question as if he didn't think about it before.

"Well I assumed it wouldn't feel nice to you for me to announce that you were the reason we were going home. And It's easier for me to take a few hits from the boys than for you. Honestly didn't think much about it."

He opened the door for you before walking around to the other side himself. Your gaze followed him as he shifted in his seat to get comfortable and clip his seatbelt shut. He met your gaze when he looked up.

There was a small smile hidden beneath his beard. "What?" His voices sounded gruff as if he had smoked too much. Maybe he had.

"You're amazing, you know that?"

His expression softened considerably. "Because I'm putting a seatbelt on?" He teased gently.

You gave him a 'seriously?' look. "I'm serious john. You're the best husband I could ever wish for."

He lowered his head bashfully. His heart skipping a beat. He'll never get used to being called your husband. "I try my best darling. I'm glad you think so."

You leaned over to him and kissed his cheek. The hairs of his beard tickling you. It was a familiar feeling. There was no smile on your face, there didn't need to be, you didn't have to pretend anything with him.

"Thank you."

John grabbed your hand in his bigger one giving it a squeeze. "For what?"

"Being you." Your eyes met his and you were able to hold eye contact for the moment.

John chuckled. "That's not a-"

"For always looking out for me. For accepting me the way I am and always trying to meet my needs even if you want something else. For never getting angry at me and being SO considerate. Like, like you did back there taking the hit for me without even thinking about it. You do stuff like that all the time."

It sounded so genuine coming from you even though your tone sounded flat. Almost like you were stating facts. "And I feel like I'm holding you back a lot. You need to give up so much for me and I need you for so many things it probably can be annoying for you..."

John's brows furrowed instantly. "Darling...it's not- you're not annoying to me. Never. And I'll gladly give up whatever if it means that I get your love." His voice was so gentle, that his friends would probably fall from their chair. A slight shake in his head to contradict your thoughts. He adjusted his position to cup your cheek in his palm.

His mind was spiraling to express his thoughts and make you aware of your importance to him. Did he ever make you feel like you weren't? Where did you get the idea? Had he acted annoyed when he helped you sometime? Maybe that time were he had gotten home from work...

"I never meant to make you feel this way. You need to put up with all my bullshit too and I'm so grateful for you. I-" his voice cracked slightly and he cleared his throat.

You were overwhelmed by how you should react. It wasn't the first time you saw him vulnerable, you were used to his nightmares or worries, but it didn't happen frequently either and there wasn't excactly a handbook for 'what to do when your husband feels-' well you weren't entirely sure what emotion he felt at the moment either.

He took a breath. "You just mean a lot to me, love. I want you to be happy."

"But you need to be happy too." you stated quietly.

He smiled. "I am happy. More than happy with you. You're about the best thing that happened to me." A chuckle escaped his lips. "And honestly I quite like that you're a bit dependend on me. Makes me feel needed."

John pulled his head down to lean his head against yours. "You don't need to say anything. I just don't want you to think that you're a burden to me."

"But it is hard on you sometimes is it not?" you whispered. The blue in his eyes was so close that it blurred.

"Yes it is. But I know it's hard for you too being with me sometimes." He adjusted his eyes downwards.

"Yes. We make it work tough."

"That we do love. We make it work." he whispered before closing the small gap and touching your lips with his.

[10byten]

Soft Spot for u

- When you started college, one of the student associations assigned you a senior mentor. Back then, you never thought you'd still be friends with him as you enter your final year, while he’s already long graduated. Even less that he’d be the guy of your dreams—the one who makes your heart race. -

Words : 2.6K

You’ve never been much of a party girl. Well, not in the “nightlife scene” kind of way. But a night owl ? That’s totally you. Staying up late doing all the things the daytime doesn’t allow ? That’s your jam. Especially when you’re spending those nights with him.

Since your freshman year, Yuta has been your go-to for late-night hangs: studying, laughing, bickering, drinking, and dancing. You quickly adapted to his vibe - even though, unlike you, he thrives in the nightlife. He loves hopping from on-campus parties to the city’s best clubs. For Yuta, you’d adjust to anything. Normally, you’re not big on people or physical contact, but with him, it’s different.

The first time he asked you to join him at a party, you tagged along, thinking, Why not? At least I’ll have a story to tell. You didn’t like dancing in public—the stares, the unwanted touches—but his touch? That was different. Before long, you were showing up to every party he invited you to, becoming a campus party regular.

Little did they know, you hated parties. You only went for him. For those moments on the dancefloor when his hands rested protectively on your hips, silently warning other guys to back off. It drove you crazy that it felt more big brotherly than anything else. But when you danced together, something shifted. He wasn’t being protective—just… present.

You’ve always wanted to make a move, but the fear of losing him held you back. If he hadn’t made the first move, it probably meant your feelings weren’t mutual. Right? But honestly, just being by his side was better than being with anyone else.

Yuta changed you—not just in how you see relationships, but in how you see life. He was more than a mentor for academics; he pulled you out of your comfort zone and into a brighter, more open world.

Waiting for him to pick you up tonight, you’re lost in thought, touching up your makeup as Keshi’s Soft Spot plays in the background. Your phone buzzes.

Yuta: Be there in 2 mins, love.

You grin, his name lighting up your screen. Gosh, this man owns my heart.

When you hop on his bike, he whistles, eyes raking over your silver sequin dress.

“You planning to set the campus on fire tonight? I don’t remember telling you to outshine me, little miss.”

“No one’s hotter than you, Yuta.” You flirt back, the way you always do when he compliments you. It gives you butterflies every time.

He smirks, giving you a playful smack on the thigh. “Flattery’ll get you far, baby. Keep it up.”

At the party, Yuta, as usual, commands attention. Walking in with him feels like entering as a rockstar’s date—his magnetic aura turning every head. You join his friends—Johnny, Taeyong, Doyoung—who’ve already lined up shots.

Johnny hands you a suspiciously colorful concoction. You sniff it. “Johnny, is this safe? Because I really don’t want to start the semester in the ER.”

Everyone laughs, and Taeyong teases, “Sometimes I forget you’re still in school. Those were the days…”

Shots clink, faces grimace, and the party kicks off. But soon, the buzz, the chaos, and the alcohol start working their magic on your senses. All you want is to dance—with him.

The noise, the games, the music, the chaos of people chatting and singing along, all the stuff happening around you, mixed with the alcohol buzzing in your veins, has your senses on high alert. And now, you only want one thing—to dance with him. You’ve shared him with the crowd long enough, and now it’s your turn. Just you and him, in your world, even if it’s just for a bit.

You leave Jungwoo and Kai behind, still going at that ridiculous card game where every rule somehow ends in "take a sip." It’s funny as hell, you can admit that, but nah—right now, you need him. It’s all you can think about.

You find him at the bar, mid-conversation. You head toward him, sitting by the counter, your mind racing with one single thought: you wanna throw your arms around his neck and kiss him like it’s the only thing keeping you alive. His legs are spread like he’s waiting just for you, a couple of messy strands of hair falling into his eyes, and his half-unbuttoned shirt teasing you with a glimpse of that stunning belly piercing and a peek at his tattoo.

You stop in front of him, hesitating for a second. He’s still chatting with Taeyong but doesn’t miss a beat, sliding an arm around your waist like, yeah, I know you’re here. That little gesture? making you go crazy, and without a second thought, grab his wrist and pull him to the dancefloor. Pressed against him, your bodies move in sync, his hands on your hips, his breath on your neck. Butterflies? More like fireworks. 

He’s totally getting with your vibe, moving with you like he’s reading your mind. When you turn around, you catch that huge smile lighting up his face—and wow, it’s the kind of smile that hits you right in the gut. He’s loving this moment, and it’s setting off a full-on butterfly storm in your stomach.

You kinda wish his smile wasn’t this attractive, this unfairly cute, this stupidly sexy. Because all you can think about is kissing him senseless. Like, right now.

You keep getting closer, grinding up against him more, and for some reason tonight, you’re feeling extra bold. You slide your fingers into his, guiding his hand to trace your curves in a way that’s definitely more suggestive than usual. Yuta doesn’t just go along with it—he’s into it. His response is all green lights, like his body is totally in tune with yours, wanting this as much as you do.

You feel his breath on your neck as you press your back against his chest, and yeah, it’s short. Is he... out of breath because of you? The thought sends a shiver down your spine, and without even thinking, you push your hips back against him, swaying like it’s second nature.

And then you feel it—him. Hard. For you.

That’s the last green light you need. You turn, locking eyes, fingers tangling in his hair as you kiss him, pouring years of longing into it. He kisses back—hungry, desperate.

Next thing you know, you’re in a dimly lit laundry room, pinned against the door as his lips crash back onto yours. His hands are everywhere, his voice dripping with desire.

He kisses you again, and this time it’s pure, raw desire. Like, where the hell has he been hiding all this? Not that it matters—you’re practically melting in his hands. Your skin’s on fire, and it feels like your blood is boiling. He’s gonna make you explode, like you’re some freaking nuclear reactor on the verge of meltdown.

The only way you can even begin to handle this insane craving is by biting his bottom lip, cutting the kiss short. He pulls back just enough to look at you, and there’s this spark in his eyes that makes your breath hitch.

“I didn’t know you had this bad girl side,” he says, smirking. “You’ve always been my sweet, innocent Y/n.”

“Not that innocent I guess, if only you knew about my dirty secret.” 

“Hmm tell me more baby” you smile hearing the petname he gave you, you love it soo much. 

“I touch myself so many times, soaking my panties, just thinking ‘bout you” 

He groan “You didn’t.” 

“I can’t even count how many times since I know you, you’re my favorite fantasm.” You say a lil bit shyly. 

He looks into your eyes, a proud smile on his face. “Then allow me to make the fantasy come true.”  He takes hold of your dress, so small that it doesn't take much effort for him to expose your already soaked thong. He slides two fingers over your pussy to caress you through the fabric.

“You’ve been holding out on me, huh?” he growls, fingers brushing against the lace of your underwear.

“Only for you, daddy,” you whisper, testing the nickname that’s been on your mind for way too long.

He freezes, then smirks. “Gosh, you’re gonna drive me insane.”

You've never been so willing in your life. You only dream of one thing: his tongue on you and IN you. He lifts your leg and places it on his shoulder to get better access. You feel his breath on your inner thigh and you moan at the sensation alone. 

“Oh god.” He look at you, from the bottom and smirk “You can call me Yuta.” And with those words he wraps your whole soaking pussy in his mouth. First he eats you through the fabric of your thong. Then, using his fingers, he shifts it to the side. He flicks his tongue up and down your folds and then concentrates on your clitoris, sucking gently. The stimulation sends you into heaven, you feel as if you've left this earth. And then he starts playing at your entrance with one of his fingers, looking at you “Want me to get inside baby girl?”

“Yes, please, yes !”

 “Your wish is my command.”

He takes hold of your clit again, nibbling lightly, then gently and deliciously slides a finger into your pussy, soon adding a second, which you welcome as a blessing. You try to be as quiet as possible, but your little cries and sobs excite Yuta even more. He picks up the pace and eats you up like he's starving, tasting you like you’re his last meal, you’re trembling. Soon you feel your orgasm coming on and you press down on Yuta's shoulder as if to let him know you're about to burst. He smiles, "Let it go baby, I'm here for you.” You feel the most powerful orgasm you've ever had in your life rushing through you. And this time you can't help yourself, you moan his name out loud and pray that no one else walks by at the same time. He stands up and sucks on each of his two fingers in front of you. Then he slides his tongue back into your mouth. 

“I think you can still feel yourself on my tongue, so much that I've sucked you in.” You wrap your arms around his neck, wanting more, but Yuta slows the pace. “Maybe we should slip away before we're noticed.

You slip out quietly, not even bothering to say goodbye to anyone. On the way back, you’re still all sensitive from the way he completely wrecked you earlier. When Yuta pulls up in front of your dorm, he looks a little more hesitant than before. Still, you invite him to come up with you for a bit.

As you close the door to your apartment, you see him sitting on the couch, his hands covering his face like he’s deep in thought. But you don’t stop to overthink it—he’s already given you too much tonight for you to back down now. You climb onto his lap and kiss him, slow and intense. He kisses you back but suddenly pulls away.

“Wait,” he says, looking at you seriously. “I need to understand what’s happening here. Like, what are we doing right now?”

You stare at him, confused. “Do you want a diagram or something?”

“No, I mean, seriously. Isn’t this, like, a bad idea? I’m older than you, and you’re totally wasted. I am too, actually.”

“So what?”

“So yeah, I don’t think this is a good idea. You’ll probably regret it tomorrow. I don’t want to mess things up between us. You mean a lot to me and—”

You cut him off with a dramatic wave, making it clear he needs to stop talking immediately. “This is unreal. Stop seeing me as the clueless first-year kid who doesn’t know anything and needs a protector. Yuta, I don’t want a protector—I want you.”

He just stares at you, speechless.

“I got a soft spot for you, from the very beginning,” you continue, your voice shaking with the weight of the truth. “And honestly, I’ve been hoping every single day since we met that one day you’d wake up and feel the same. But you’ve always had this big brother vibe, and God, it’s been killing me, because I love your attention, I love how affectionate you are, and how you’re always there for me. But Yuta, I want so much more than that. I never said anything because I didn’t want to scare you off or ruin what we have. But seriously, I’ve been into you since day one. So please, stop being my bro—be my lover. Tonight, I felt like it was now or never. There was this moment, this chance, and hell, it’s my last year. I want to leave this university finally dating the guy I’ve been crushing on since freshman year. So if you’re not into it, just say it, but please stop looking at me like I’m some little kid and start seeing the woman I could be by your side.”

Yuta’s lips crash onto yours, giving you the single greatest kiss of your life.

“So you’ve been this into me for all this time, and you never said a word?” he teases, a grin spreading across his face.

“Yuta, please. I’m not exactly the most social person, but I’ve spent practically all my time with you. I hate parties, yet I’ve been at them every week since I met you. I HATE octopus, but I learned how to make Takoyaki like a pro. I think Naruto is the most boring anime ever, but I binged every damn season. Why do you think I did all that? For who?” you shoot back, exasperated.

“Uh… sorry?” he mutters sheepishly.

“Don’t apologize. Honestly, I love most of those things now because they remind me of you, or they’re just so you. I don’t force myself. If it means spending time with you, it’s always worth it in the end.”

He smiles at you, soft and affectionate.

“I’ll admit, I’ve thought about this a lot over the years too,” he says quietly. “But the age gap always felt like too much. And I had this mentor role, you know? I didn’t want to look like some creepy older guy. More than that, I didn’t want to lose you or ruin what we have.”

Your heart pounds at his words. So he doesn’t see you as some desperate little kid, and, more importantly, the guy of your dreams feels the same way about you.

“Can you say it out loud, though? Just once?” you tease him.

“I got a soft spot for you, Y/n.”

“No, no, no, you can do better than that.”

He chuckles, running his tongue along his cheek, clearly amused but knowing you’re not letting this go.

“I got a big crush on you.”

Your smile stretches ear to ear, and you crash your lips against his again. He responds instantly, sliding his tongue against yours, his hands moving to your hips as he pulls you closer. Then, without breaking the kiss, he lifts you effortlessly and carries you to your room, laying you gently on the bed.He trails kisses along your jawline, down to your neck, and a soft moan escapes your lips. He nibbles at your earlobe before whispering, “If you play your cards right tonight, sweetheart, you just might get me to admit I maybe am in love with you by the end of it.”

[oceantornadoo]

okay but best frien johnny who gets in your last nerve when you’re pms-ing or ovulating. and he absolutely knows what he’s doing bc he tracks ur cycle

“johnny, just stop! god, it’s like you’re a little boy.” you get up in a huff, leaving a bewildered gaz and johnny in the common room. johnny’s still loosely gripping the remote you were fighting over, stuck doing mental math as he watches your retreating figure stomp down the hall and out of sight.

gaz breaks the tension by snatching the remote out of johnny’s hand, a murmured “sorry, mate” as he picks the first action movie he sees, just to have some background noise. it doesn’t drown out the buzzing in johnny’s head or the concerned look gaz is shooting his way, that ever-present cap doing little to hide his questioning eyes. “‘s fine. the lass isn’t feelin’ her best. gonna go check up on her.” he jerks his body off the couch, not waiting for an ok by gaz as johnny makes his way to your room.

you’d been snappy at him all week. critiquing his messy room (he preferred the term eclectic), his handsiness (was never an issue before), even his smell (he knew you liked his musk though). suddenly, he had an inkling to check that app on his phone, the one hooked up to your period tracker, and lo and behold, he had his answer. now it was a matter of getting on the right side of your hormones.

johnny stopped in front of your door, fishing out the copy of your key he made, unlocking it without announcing himself. he walked in on you changing, hand on your back to unhook your bra as you slipped out of your day clothes. you didn't acknowledge him, instead slipping on your pajama shirt (one of his old ones) and taking off your underwear, kicking it towards your laundry bag as you pulled on sleep shorts. "now who's bein' messy?" johnny muttered, ignoring your scoff as he picked up your discarded underwear and placed it in your laundry hamper. "you here to apologize?" you spit out, refusing to make eye contact as you looked in your mirror, pulling your shirt this way and that. johnny stalked over to where you were standing, settling behind you as he met your eyes in the mirror, shaking his head. "yer period's comin' soon, bonnie. 's why yer all mean an' spittin'."

your mouth dropped at the insinuation, taking a step forward to get out of his atmosphere. unfortunately, he followed you, taking two steps until your back was flush against his chest. one hairy paw reached out to cup your breast over your shirt, his fingers ignoring your pointed nipples as he squeezed you to his liking. "tender?" all you could do was nod and bite back the pain he was sending your way, hormonal nerves shouting at you to stop him. his hand traveled to your stomach, rolling your pudge between his fingers. "bloated?" you nodded again, his motions giving you no relief from your pms symptoms. he didn't seem to care, focusing more on your body reactions. "skin's hot. temp's goin' up, hm?" so that's why you woke up in a sweat last night. which you didn't even tell him about...

"you're being weird, johnny. how do you know all this?" he shrugged, his hand on your stomach traveling again to cup your pussy, his other hand sliding against your spine to reach the back of your neck. "what are best friends for? i know she's all sensitive." he squeezed your cunt for emphasis. "think i should kiss her an' make it all better, mo leannen?" you nodded silently. he pulled down your shorts and got to his knees, turning so he was eye-to-cunt with your sensitive pussy. he gave her a sniff, then a kiss on your clit. another for emphasis, tongue flicking in like he was trying to make out with her. the angle was all bad, the pleasure minimal, which he knew. it was for pure emphasis - to stake his claim that he knew you better than you knew yourself. after another kiss, he rose back up, righting your shorts. "c'mon, need yer sleep before the blood comes." it would be impossible to sleep with him, an absolute human furnace, but you went along anyways, your best friend johnny leading the way.

more best friend!johnny here!

[jessnotfoundd]

We can't be friends - Lewis Hamilton. (Breeding kink)

6! KINKTOBER! MINORS DNI

Remember this contains sexual descriptions, nudity, and intercourse.

Pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Reader!

Lewis took victory in the Silverstone GP and we were out at night to celebrate with the other drivers and wags, we were just friends but everyone could tell the line wasn't as clear as it used.

Things went smoothly. He was chill, drinking a drink like usual, he wasn't a crazy animal while partying like everyone thought, he was actually calm. Enjoying the moment.

On the other hand, you had me, the crazy party animal trying to stay composed aside from Lewis.

"You can go to dance, you don't have to stay here all night trying to be a good girl," he says in my ear because of the loud music. The closeness and the words he chose send shivers down my spine.

"I'm not trying, I'm enjoying the moment, that's all, you won your home-race gp" I looked at him, trying to make him understand I wasn't desperate to go dance. I was lying, dying to dance with him, to feel him against me while we danced like we always used to do.

He guides me to the dancefloor and I already know what kind of night waits ahead, we dance, he teases me, I grow impatient and horny and he plays innocently with me like he didn't do anything.

My back is against his chest in the little space we had for ourselves on the dancefloor. Every brush of his hand against my waist, each subtle shift of our bodies closer, sent a shiver down my spine, He leans in, resting his chin on my shoulder, his lips are so close to my skin that I feel like I could come undone just from how my body feels against his and his breath against my skin.

"You've got some good moves there," he says, I hear it like a whisper because of the loudspeakers around the place. I tilt my head back, trying to answer him.

"I could say the same about you but I'd be lying" I joke.

Lewis chuckled, the sound vibrating through his chest, adding a spark to my growing arousal, his hand slid up my back, his fingers tracing a slow line that made my heart race. The way we were moving wasn't just dancing, it was a conversation without words of what was to come once we were back at the hotel.

"Is this how you celebrate your wins?" I say, turning around to face him, he holds my hips and pushes me flush against him. I can tell he's smirking because I know all his reactions.

"You know I do, just with you" his lips brushed my neck and I could feel the heat pooling in my stomach.

The music was a background noise now, it was as if the world had shifted its focus, leaving just the two of us.

He leaned in close, his hand brushing lightly against my lower back, "Let's get out of here" he murmured, his lips inches away from mine.

My eyes meet his gaze, a slight agreement between us. With a slight tug on my hand, he guides me through the crowd, his grip warm and reassuring as we slipped out of the club and into the cool night air. The rush of excitement from earlier lingered, but now it was laced with anticipation.

The car ride was silent, his hand on my thigh, going up and down slowly, teasing me and making my arousal go higher than expected.

When he pulled into the driveway of the hotel, parking the car with the same precision he used on track, for a moment, neither of us moved, the air was thick with anticipation, knowing what was to come. He stepped out and walked around to open the door for me, he always does, always the gentleman.

At the door of his hotel room, I could tell that something was different between us and how we were doing this, a change in the dynamic for tonight I don't feel like his best friend but like one of his girls, and I was okay with it.

He opened the door, stepping aside to let me in first, his eyes never leaving my body, undressing me, and once the door is closed behind him, the tension is finally broken but his hand spanking my ass.

"This is exactly what I needed before even the race" He pressed his body against mine and I sighed, I was so turned on that I wasn't even able to form a single sentence.

His fingers move to the zipper of my dress.

"I've been picturing you naked the moment I saw you entering the club" His lips are now on my neck. The dress slips off and I can feel him step back to take a look at me.

His palm meets my ass again and the stinging is for a few seconds but I let out a little whimper.

"Lewis" I whisper, moving unconsciously to undress him, taking his clothes slowly, I guide him to sit on the edge of the bed, I kiss his thighs, feeling absolutely drawn to them. "I need you" I take the final piece of clothing covering him, his boxers.

I position myself aligning his cock with my entrance, making circles on his tip, but he's so desperate he sinks me into his whole length.

"L-lewis" I murmured and he chuckled.

"Are you going to be good today?" he grips my ass, setting the rhythm, slow, teasing me.

"For you? Always" I bite his shoulder, and a whine escapes my throat, needing him to be more aggressive than this softer side of him today.

"You want me to fuck you?" he whispers, his tone low and provocative.

I whine in a positive tone.

"I don't want to fuck you today..." He says and my lips find the way to his neck.

"Please?" I try to pick the pace myself, but he keeps me in place, setting the charge of the situation.

"I want to make love to you" his lips against mine are addictive, almost making me forget about how much I needed him to pick up the pace or do something else.

He switches positions and rests my back on the bed, his body hovering over mine.

"Are you going to take me well today?" he moves his hips against mine slowly, his lips going down to pay attention to my breasts, cupping one while his mouth is busy playing with the other, sucking and licking so good had to move away to not finish right here right now.

"Y-yes" I arched my back and I heard him smirk.

"Eager for me to fill you?" his filthy tone is enough to take another whine from me.

My eyes go wide at the phrase.

"What?" I'm surprised to hear him say that.

"Do not play innocent with me" his moves are harder, driving me insane. "We can't be friends" his thrusts are precise and hard, and my eyes are shut closed, wanting to make the moment last. "We can't" he thrust "Not when I want to fill you up with babies" he smirked "How does that sound?" He holds my chin up, "Open your eyes and look at me"

"I'm close" I whisper and hold his hand. "I'm gonna cum"

I open my eyes the second I feel his hands on my shoulders. "Want to have my babies?" He says and that was the final straw. My body shakes. "Hold done a bit more, I'm almost there," He says doing the final thrusts.

I feel his hot cum inside of me as he moves a few times more, both of us getting down from our highs.

"I want you to have my babies" He whispers, knowing this was a desire that he had not only in the heat of the moment. "I'm being for real"

I nod, not actually knowing what to do or what to say.

[cookiescribble]

New In Town

A/N: hey there, to the anon that requested this, I lost your actual submission but I hope this lived up to expectation! I started writing this, forgot I started it, and then got sick but I tried my best haha, enjoy! Happy pride month! - mod ghost

p.s. sorry to mod angel, I definitely called her out in this fic lol 

You had only been at the BAU for about a week, but something about Spencer made you feel like a moth drawn to a flame, as cliche as that might be. Sometimes, you’d catch yourself staring at him during briefings or even just sitting at your respective desks. Watching the way his hands would move over pages as he tore his way through books. His reading speed always amazed you, and you wondered how he actually retained any of the information he was taking in. Yesterday, he’d caught your gaze, making eye contact with you and giving you a polite grin before returning back to whatever it was he’d been doing. Your heart nearly pounded itself out of your chest, which is about when it dawned on you that you definitely had feelings for him. Shit, you thought to yourself briefly. It was probably best to keep this to yourself for now, you’d heard a lot about everything he had been through from the other members of the team and figured it’d be best to leave him alone. Even if you thought this while in private, it didn’t seem to actually stop you from flirting with him. What could possibly go wrong? He’d say no, but that wasn’t terrible. A few days later, you found him at his desk before the team was about to fly off to investigate a new case. You, however, weren’t cleared for field work yet, so you had to work in something before he went,

Gently putting a hand on his shoulder to get his attention, you leaned in closer to him as you said, “Have a safe flight, pretty boy, I’ll see you when you get back,” then walked off toward Garcia while practically being able to feel his eyes on you. Whether that was a good thing or not, you couldn’t tell, and the idea of having to wait until the team came back stirred up some nervousness that seized in the pit of your stomach but you pushed it aside for now to focus on helping Penelope here in Quantico. “I’m sorry, why is Reid making that face?” She laughed as she all but chased you further down the hall and away from the bullpen.

“I’m fairly certain I just called him pretty boy or something, I don’t know. I might’ve blacked out.” You sighed, averting her gaze as much as possible as you pushed through the door leading to all of her equipment.

“I knew it! You have a crush on Spencer!” Garcia cried in excitement, seconds away from jumping up and down. “Could you yell it any louder?? He might hear you! China might hear you–” You grab her arm as you whisper hurriedly, pulling her through the door and closing it behind her, “--wait, am I really that obvious about it?? Who else knows other than you?” “Mainly us girls, don’t worry. But I might be able to help you, see if he likes you back?” “What, have my own spy crew just for a crush? No way, I’ll get over it.” You brush a hand through your hair in embarrassment and frustration as you and her sit next to each other at her desk. All you could think about was Spencer, though. Nothing that happened throughout the day could fix that. Especially when he called a few hours later to ask for information. Garcia picked up the phone before you could react or steel yourself to the idea of talking to him again. “Hey, tall dark and nerdy, talk to me” She spoke quickly, leaning back in her chair. It made you blush, which you silently cursed her for. “Uh, hey, Garcia,” he paused to chuckle, “I need your help–” “Obviously” You started to get up to escape the room and compose yourself, but, much to your chagrin, he’d heard the background noise over the phone, “Is someone else in there with you?” His voice crackled over the phone line again, which made Penelope stop you from moving, 

“Yes, actually,” She nudged you as she spoke,

“H-uh, Hi, Spence.” You spoke up, trying to sound lighthearted. The idea of speaking to him again this soon seized your heart and made it hard to breathe. 

“Hey…as you can probably hear, I made it here safe. No need to worry.” There was a bit of a teasing tone to his voice. You’d never quite heard him use that tone with you before. Or anyone for that matter. 

Before you had time to process that, they were on to talking about the case again and you were able to escape the situation pretty much unscathed. 

The rest of the team didn’t return until later that week, on a Friday, so Garcia got pizza for everyone to celebrate. 

She came to grab you from your desk and the two of you arrived just in time to see something that stirred up something in you, so deep you think you were possessed by one of your distant descendants.

“You’re cutting pizza with a butter knife?!” You ask incredulously, not meaning to come off so viciously. 

Spencer froze, plastic butter knife still in hand as he stabbed into the pizza. 

“We…We don’t have a pizza cutter here, and some of the slices were kinda stuck together with cheese…” he explained, almost frozen in place as he awkwardly chuckled at the ridiculous nature of the conversation while Garcia couldn’t help but laugh. 

“Sorry, I honestly have no idea what came over me. Let’s uh, let’s dig into this pizza, huh? Now that I’m done getting possessed by my grandma?” You joke, going closer to the table with Penelope and grabbing one of the slices that were…cut. Definitely not sawed apart poorly. He’d tried his best. At this current moment, Spencer Reid was honestly just lucky he was cute. Despite that, you smiled politely and spent time with your found family that is the BAU.

That night, after all the fun was over and it was time to go home for a much needed crash, it had been just you and Spencer. You both volunteered to clean up after everything so that everyone else could go home for some much needed rest and to get a start on their weekend. They tried to insist that they’d help, too, but everyone was tired and it wasn’t that big of a mess so there was no need for everyone to stay. 

You thought it’d be fine, because surely you could be at least somewhat normal around him, right? 

The two of you easily talked and joked the whole time, the energy in the room fairly normal until you both reached for the same pizza box. Your hands brushed together and you instinctively looked up at each other, a similar electric feeling running down both your spines. 

“Oh, I can um…I can grab that.” you speak softly, almost afraid to speak in the sudden intense silence. 

“It’s okay, I got it. It’s the least I could do after you almost stabbed me earlier for my inferior method of cutting pizza.” Spence replied with a soft smile.

“Hey, you were the one with the plastic knife, mister.” 

“I’m never gonna live that down, am I?” 

“Not as long as I’m here,”

You both broke out into laughter then there were a few moments of just eye contact before you’d started to lean in closer slowly. Like too fast of a movement would scare him away. It seemed like he would, too, but before either of you could touch the other, he quickly stood up and away from you.

“Sorry—um, it’s been a long day. I can take care of taking out the rest of the trash, you don’t have to stick around. Thanks for the help, though.” He says hastily, grabbing one of the two bags of garbage bags that sat by the door and quickly rushing off. 

You sighed to yourself and grabbed your bag, heading out for the night and silently cursing at yourself. If it wasn’t awkward before, it would be now. 

But you just couldn’t help yourself around Spencer, everything about him screamed out to you like some sort of siren call. Every time you weren’t around him, basically anything would remind you of him. 

You just needed to bite the bullet and ask him out, so that’s exactly what you were going to do. The worst he could do was say no, right? 

So the week after that, you had finally worked up some courage. The whole team was at a bar together, Spencer being the only one not drinking as per usual. You, being about two drinks in at this point, had enough of tiptoeing around him. 

It’s now or never, you thought. 

You went over to him while everyone else was doing their own thing in different spots in the bar, so it was just the two of you, and you sat yourself next to him. 

Spencer looked over and smiled kindly at you, his brown doe eyes shining in the dim lighting. Your chest flooded with warm affection as soon as you made eye contact with him, and it made you that much more sure about this. 

“Hey, having fun?” he asked cheerfully, the happiest you’d heard him in a while. Since you’d started working at the BAU, you’d realize when you thought about this moment later. 

“Yeah, but um…I really need to ask you something, Spence.” 

“Oh? By all means, go ahead,” he gestures for you to continue, turning his body toward yours to give you his full attention. 

“Okay so…um…I…I like you. Like, I really like you—“ you started to say, before he interjected. 

“This isn’t sounding like a question”

“Spencer, please”

“Sorry, go on” he sheepishly smiled, apparently having fun teasing you a little. 

“Thank you, but I uhh…shit—“ you cursed. 

“You were saying you really like me?” 

“Right—so, I was wondering…if…if you’d want to…maybe…go out sometime? With me?”

“We…are out,” he gestured to the bar around the two of you, “right now.” 

“That’s not what I mean—“

“I know what you mean, and I…I’m not sure.”

“What?”

“I’ve had a lot happen to me recently, between going to jail and everything that happened with Cat, as well as everything else and our jobs themselves…I’m not sure I have room to have someone else in my life. No matter how much I like you, too.” 

You nearly gasped when he said he liked you, too, but you held it back. This was the most emotionally vulnerable he’d ever been around you. You weren’t going to take advantage of that. 

“Well…” you take his hand in both of yours, holding it close to your chest. “We could take things slow…ride things out, y’know? But that’s only if you want to. I’m here to make sure you’re happy. Whether it’s with me or not.”

He stared at you silently for a moment, considering everything you’d just told him. He kept glancing from your eyes to your lips, as if he was contemplating at a speed your slightly buzzed mind wasn’t quite up to keeping up with. 

Before you could speak or even think further on it, he was leaning forward and speaking low enough that only you would be hearing it. 

“Let’s go, let’s go back to my place. We’ll talk about this more, I just can barely hear myself think with the music in here.” 

You nodded and stood up from the booth, both of you waving goodbye to the rest of the team with gentle smiles before walking off. 

Back at his apartment, he barely had the door closed 5 minutes before he was kissing you. 

So much for talking things through. 

The way his lips pressed to yours felt passionate, desperate even. Like he’d been waiting to do this for a long time. You let yourself relax into it, your hand drifting up to tangle your fingers in his hair. Everything about kissing him just made you want to lose yourself in him until you weren’t sure where each of you ended and began. 

Then, just as suddenly as he started, he pulled away, taking in deep breaths and pushing his hair back away from his face but still close enough that you could feel his breath ghosting over your face. 

“Sorry, that…I shouldn’t have—“

Before he could finish, you were pulling him back in for more. He wasn’t about to get away with a kiss like that with just a simple ‘sorry’. Not if you had anything to say about it. 

The two of you ended up tangled together in his bed for the rest of the night, the blanket gently wrapped around you both in a comfortable silence. 

Talking could wait, for now you were just…together, and that was more than enough.

[gh0stsp1d3r]

HEYY BABES SO CAN U DO A JJ x sister!reader (few years younger, she’s a teen.)

TW: depression, talks of SH, ED, etc…

Basically,

She comes home and seems off and all the pogues know she suffers from depression, and so JJ is like hey bbg (NICKNAMES PLS) and lightly tries to understand what’s going on, and she just kinda pretends nothing is going on. She goes to the bathroom to take anti-depressants and then all of a sudden she just desperately tries to look for something sharp to SH. She can’t find anything in the bathroom, so she slowly falls to the ground, has a breakdown, JJ comes and is all comforting and understanding and then after she explains to him how she almost relapsed, and then she well yeah u can makeup the rest

ℛℯ𝓁𝒶𝓅𝓈ℯ

warnings: depression, mentions of blades, attempted self harm. I am not responsible for what u read.

Masterlist

You raced home to the chateau, your hands shoved into your pockets. You held back your tears, taking a deep breath when you stood in front of the door, hand on the doorknob. You twisted it, immediately being met with the faces of your brother and his friends, all lounging on the couch or the floor, nursing beers and joints.

"Yo, what's up, idiot?" JJ asked you, turning to look. You stared back at him and his friends, before wordlessly making a beeline to the bathroom.

JJ turned around, creasing his eyebrows and shrugging at the odd interaction, chugging a beer. Everyone else seemed just as confused.

Worry began to bubble in his chest, and he tried desperately to push it down. The worry only grew when he heard the noises coming from the bathroom.

You locked the bathroom door, letting the tears silently fall finally, and looking at the medicine cabinet. You were throwing and shoving things around, trying desperately to find it, or anything at this point.

"No, no, no." you murmured under your breath, you couldnt find anything, not a blade or even scissors. Your skin was itching, the urge growing strong. You pulled at your scalp, finally falling against the door, your sobbing becoming louder. You held your hand over your mouth, trying to conceal them, but it was no use.

The urge to do it came suddenly, as soon as you left work actually.

"What the fuck...?" JJ muttered under his breath, all of them turning their heads, the room falling into silence now.

"Go check on her, dude!" Kiara told him, shoving his shoulder and motioning to the door.

JJ walked over to the door, messing with the doorknob. He furrowed his eyebrows, panicked, he rapidly moved the doorknob back and fourth.

"Y/n? Y/n, unlock the fucking door, dude. I'm not messing with you right now." He told you, still messing with the doorknob, then banging on the door.

He thought of the time this happened last time at home, his dad shouting and yelling in the background while Jj worriedly knocked on the door of your bedroom, your dad busting the door open and both of them catching on when they saw the sharp object thrown on the ground.

The banging caused to cover your ears, sobbing louder now.

"Y/n... Please don't tell me you did anything stupid." JJ sighed, you taking your hands away from your ears and wiping your tears. “Unlock the door, kid. Please.”

You slowly stood up, unlocking the door with shaky hands. His eyes went to your wrists, making sure nothing new was there. He sighed in relief, wrapping his arms around you, you continuing to cry into his chest with your arms at your side.

His hands cradled the back of your head, he slowly and quietly closed the bathroom door, giving you both some privacy. He waited until he heard nothing but your sniffles to let go. He grabbed your shoulders, staring at you.

"What happened, kid?"

"I... was working, and..." you paused, sniffling and wiping your nose. "I saw dad come up. He- he fucking came up to me, shouting and cussing at me. He almost got me fired!" You told him, anger lacing your voice. "Then he told me that-that I was the reason mom ran away, and I was the reason his life was so shitty, and tried to guilt trip me into coming back." your face creased up as you began to cry again, hiding your face in JJ's shoulder and grabbing onto his shirt.

“He told me that- that I was a terrible daughter, and he grabbed my wrist and-“

“Alright. Alright. You’re okay. Shh.” He swallowed, hand wrapping around you again. Unsure of what to do, he waited until you stopped crying to talk again.

He motioned for you to sit down on the closed toilet seat, and he sat down on the counter, swinging his feet.

“Dad’s- dad’s an asshole, okay? You know not a word of what he said was true, right? He just wants you to come back so that he can fuckin’ steal your money and have someone to be angry at. Fuckin’ prick.” He scoffed, shaking his head.

You looked unconvinced. He stared at you.

“Nothing he said was true, y/n.” He assured you. “He used to say some of the same things to me. You think I let it get to me? Nah. You wanna know why? Because he is a selfish, druggie, loser addict who no one loves. You’re not gonna be him, because you’re fuckin’ awesome, dude!”

You smiled and let out a nasally laugh, making him smile.

“You’re a wayyyyy better surfer and fisher than he is. And he’s a fuckin’ fisherman! How do you let a teenager beat you at your own job, man?” Your giggle widened his smile, you covering your mouth.

“I mean, shit, I would rather be stuck with you for 100 hours than him for a minute. And you ask anyone out there, they’ll say the same.”

You laughed with JJ, and the bathroom was silent until he spoke up again.

“Don’t do that shit again, okay? Especially not because of a nobody like Luke. Next time he comes to your job or even around you, call me and I’ll come beat his ass.” JJ put up fists, punching the air with grunts.

You laughed at his antics and nodded. “I’m sorry, Jj.”

“Don’t be.”

[novashelby]

Quick Shot~A Tommy Shelby x Reader Smut

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Reader

Word Count: 3.4k

Warning: smut, p in v, gun talk, language, insinuated gun use, dub con

Summary: To get away, Tommy visits a pub outside of Birmingham. The barmaid is quite interested in his gun and he makes her a little promise. *I got a request for a smut when Tommy teaches reader how to shoot. But there is quite a few one shots like that, so I made something inspired by it. If the person who requested doesn't like this, please request again. :)

Please reblog and comment. Likes are so kind, but reblogs and comments are much more helpful to a writer. :) Please also enjoy!

“Target practice, Mr. Shelby?” she had asked as her hand quickly swiped down at the wooden counter. Little specks of soapy water hit his steam pressed sports jacket. He didn’t mind. Tommy Shelby knew what he was getting into in a pub such as that one. The Garrison was his go-to, but when he wanted to drink in complete solitude while still enjoying background noise, he went to a shabby one in an outskirt village. The barmaid had a bit more edge and hardly cared who he was. Admittedly, he found it to be refreshing. She grinned at him, placing the wet rag at her hip. “Forgetting to leave your big boy toys at home, eh?” The barmaid also lacked the Brummie tongue. 

Amused, his lips paused at the rim of his glass as his eyes fluttered upward. “Haven’t been home yet. Too busy.”

“Doing?” She pried a little bit more than the usual woman would. Though to her defense, she only knew Tommy Shelby, the factory owner. Not Tommy Shelby the gangster.  

He pulled the glass away from his lips, raising it to her. “Drinking!” he said, a sarcastic undertone that felt so comfortably familiar to her. He’d been going there on an off for a good two years if she had to calculate it. But there were so many faces that came and went, it was hard to tell. He, too, would leave at some point. Another lonely, lost man will take his seat and just like that, all over again, she’d have to become acquainted with another. 

She took an empty glass, and chuckled as she raised it. “To drinking-”

“But you aren’t-”

“I can’t,” she said, placing it back down in its proper spot. She went back to drying the counter, swiping it left to right with a new rag, trying to be mindful of his arm. “Sorry,” she mumbled when it lightly braised his propped elbow. 

Tommy Shelby lazily looked down at his elbow before fluttering his eyes upward. He always wore that sneaky little grin when he wasn’t completely serious. Unfortunately over the years, he had lost it along the way. Less to be amused about and more to be serious about, he assumed. But there, with her, almost alone in an empty pub, he wore it once more. The time was dwindling on the gray line of open and closed. But he showed no interest in leaving and she didn’t care. “Oh no, that was just unacceptable. You’ve done it this time.”

“Hmm, someone as witty as you, Mr. Shelby, I’d thought I would have received a better comeback. You’re slipping,” she said, matching his grin. They took a little pause, having a silent tango; eyes connecting, facial expression matching. When he wiggled his brows up in a quizzical look, she took no shame in mocking him. Neither a girl or woman in Birmingham would dare. But he found comfort in her antics. He wasn’t the Tommy Shelby, but just Tommy Shelby. It was the closest to pre-war Tommy he could get. 

“I’m getting old,” he said, finishing off his glass. She was quick to turn for the whiskey bottle and top him off before he even asked. Tommy was mid stand, ready to leave when she made the silent gesture for him to stay. “I’m driving-”

“And I’m walking,” she said, quick. Once again, they stopped their mundane, routine acts to share a little stare and chuckle. “Plus, you didn’t seem like you were ready to leave. I spared you the awkwardness of saying goodbye.” When he objected, claiming that she must be tired and that home was calling, she told him, “you want to stay more than I have the urge to leave, Mr. Shelby. Plus, I’m curious about you in a way I can’t be curious about on the clock-”

“That’s dangerous,” he accused, sipping at the brown poor man’s liquor. She hung up the rag for the night and locked the door. He had to wait for her to wash her hands of work before she joined him on the chair next to him. “Knowing too much of me is like a curse, and you’re only young-”

“Not as young as you think,” she said, taking his glass and sipping it lightly. His look said I thought you don’t drink. “It was hardly a sip for taste. Besides, from all your mystery, perhaps I may need a few sips.” Tommy slid it back to her, allowing her to have the rest. “I’m twenty-”

He cut her off, leaning in, “I have you beat by a good fourteen years.” Tommy enjoyed the aged old compliment. You look good for your age, but she never gave it to him. Only took continual sips of liquor because she can’t drink. She giggled to herself. He cut her off before she could add the eight to her age. 

Though after a while, she did say, “I heard thirty-four is the new twenty-two. But that isn’t actually what I meant by prying into your business. Hardly care about your logistics like age and birthday, Mr. Shelby. I want to know the fun stuff.” That made him laugh, but she wasn’t laughing. When he tried to protest, saying nothing about him was fun per se, her hand teased at his knee for a moment, lingering there casually. Tommy cocked a brow, mouth slightly agape. He slowly dropped his eyes, watching her fingers spread over his knee, finger tips pressing in. She was entranced by how she so casually came up on him, he hardly heard what she said. “Like what you use that gun for.” 

It was a good minute or so before he answered, as her fingers inched up past his knee, resting more on his mid-thigh. “You shouldn’t really ask what a man uses his gun for, love,” he said, in a mere, barely audible whisper. His eyes never left her hand, watching, patiently waiting to see what her intent was. It was entirely possible she was just being friendly, he thought, never previously considering the pretty barmaid. The ring on his left hand banned him from that. 

“Should I be worried you’re out shooting people and not targets?” she asked, leaning her head down to make him look at her. “Hmm?” 

“Depending on who you ask, people can be targets, too,” he said, finding him doing something that he hadn’t done to anyone other than his wife in a long time. His arms found their way around her waist to pull her in from the chair she’d been sitting on. I’m not usually a lap lady, she said as he rested her over his lap. It was his turn to feel over her thigh and lay it to rest on the inner most part. Her arms loosely hung over his shoulders. 

“That sounds like I should be sliding off your lap, Mr. Shelby,” she teased, eyes glancing to the hunk of dangerous metal strapped to his hip. “Isn’t it strange…being so close to something so lethal?” She dropped one hand to touch it but he was quick to grab her hand, his trust not being fully there with anyone. Startled, she turned her direction back to him. His fingers curled over hers, pressing with a warning. Her fingertips were turning slightly white.  She opened her mouth to speak.

He stopped her, tone turning a bit forceful. “You didn’t ask. You want to touch my gun?”  Her eyes went from flirty to startled to doe-like very quickly. She nodded and he let go of her hand to unstrap his gun and take it out. Her breath hitched as he raised it between their faces. Taunting her, his finger looped around the trigger, caressing it. She went to hold it over his hand, but he stopped her. “But you have to touch something else first-”

“Mr. Shelby,” she snorted, putting her hand down. “Thought you had more class than that. Aren’t you too old to be playing those boy games-”

Perhaps stupidly, he placed his gun on the counter, where she could easily reach it. Or maybe he was confident she wouldn’t. That he’d be good enough for her to be preoccupied with. “What boy games?” he teased, pulling her in more, making her legs rest over the sides of his so she was facing him. Taunting, teasing circles were rubbed on her back over her white blouse. He knew he was being childish in the last spot he could be childish. “Hm?” His fingers felt along her back traveling over her hips. Her breath was caught in her throat. It’d been quite sometime since a man laid their hands so intimately over her body expressing the need for her and solely her. She’d be lying if she said it wasn’t a boost in ego. Palms pressed against her stomach, he felt upward. Each little centimeter closer to her breasts, her fingers tensed. But he skipped over them, going for her arms instead. He knew what she was thinking. The disappointed rush of an exhale exposed all her secrets. 

“You’re playing a game right now.” She pressed into him a bit harder feeling the tent in his trousers poke at her inner thigh. He chuckled as she told him things he already knew. Tommy Shelby was in no rush to go home. Besides, he needed to fuck off the drunken buzz in his head.

Their foreheads touched and he wasted no time, leaning in to trap her bottom lip between his teeth. He couldn’t kiss her. As bad is sounded, he wasn’t going to kiss another woman, but he was going to fuck her. Not just fuck her, but run his hands over her body, touching each and every crevice and space. “It’s been awhile,” he said, half apologetically in response as he pulled back. Her lips wore a reddened shade from where he bit. There was some sort of silent agreement where she understood it. She understood what it was. Her and him, pressed up against one another. It was a fuck and only a fuck, leaving traces of romantic intimacy at the door.

Impatiently, she bunched up her skirt, placing it over her knees. As she fumbled with the fabric, she asked him, “Are you going to be greedy then?” What an insulting thing to ask, he thought, but instead of answering her, he slipped his hand under her, pressing his palm against her cotton white panties. Challenging her, he cocked a brow as if to ask, do I seem the type? She lifted her hips a bit to give him some room to slip her underwear off to the side before sliding his hand over. “Mr. Shelby,” she gasped out in anticipation. 

Smiling to himself, he felt over her wet folds with his two forefingers, before slipping beneath the outer folds. “Still Mr. Shelby, eh?” As if it was an order, she immediately responded with Tommy. Doing the same thing as she did to her breasts, he touched everywhere except where she wanted to be touched. It was amusing as she shifted and rolled around her hips, trying to take control of the situation she was never meant to have control of. His fingers lightly danced over the flesh around her clit and vagina, purposefully avoiding any hope. When she got a little too pushy, he pulled away, using the same hand to cradle her throat just tight enough to hold her in place. “Don’t be greedy,” he mocked with a stern tone, using her same lingo. He leaned in, lips hovering over her temple. Little ghost kisses haunting her desires. Pathetic, perhaps, but a tiny fear hung over her. What if he wasn’t going to fuck her was a nagging thought. 

“Fuck me,” she said abruptly, not even sure how or why the words came out the way they did. “I need you to fuck me-”

“And I need you to be patient,” he said, palms finding their way back to her tummy going straight for her breasts barely contained by her buttoned blouse. A long string of moans sang from her lips as he cupped them over her clothing, squeezing decently hard. Nipples perked, he teased them in circles with his finger tips. “You asked me not to be greedy,” he teased, tongue flicking at her earlobe. “But I think you should take your advice, hm? Or do you think that doesn’t apply to you because you’re a woman, eh?” Stopping his groping, he started with the top button, painfully slow. One by one he undid them, allowing the cool pub air to touch her chest. Tommy didn’t even have the chance to slip it down her shoulders, feeling her goose bumped arms before she had torn it off and tossed it somewhere beside them. 

“No,” she said, grinding down her hips, wet slick soiling his trousers. “I’m horny and you’re being an ass...I asked you to fuck me. Are you going to fuck me or are you going to leave me like this?” Amused by her assertiveness, he sat back and grinned. She mocked it. “It’s been awhile.”

“Really? A pretty girl like you working in a pub?” he challenged, not believing her. “Surely you have a twisted idea of time. What’s awhile? A month-”

“Two years,” she confused, fingers undoing his belt, cursing at the clasp. He didn’t believe her, but chose not to press the reasoning. In the grand scheme of shit, it didn’t matter. Instead, he helped her with his trousers, undoing his buttons and pulling down the zipper. “I got it,” she fussed, pushing his hand out of the way. Tommy watched as she pulled down his underwear just enough to let his cock out. 

“Alright, alright,” he laughed, scoping her up from under ass before positioning his cock. But he wouldn’t allow her to slam down. Gently, he teased at the entrance with his tip, saying, “just the tip.”

“You didn’t even finger me,” she teased back. “Selfish arse!”

“Maybe when I hit a target with my gun.”

“A still one?” she snorted, finding her way to leave playful bites along his jawline. 

“A breathing one,” he said, and before she could react, slamming himself upward, balls hitting her backside. He held her there, studying her face. It was nothing, but a silent scream. A part of him felt a tinge of guilt that he hardly prepped the poor girl, but all her selfish antics made him a bit greedy. “You feel it? This is exactly what you begged for-”

“I said don’t be-”

“Greedy?” he teased, cupping her fragile cheek with one hand as his other teasingly rolled her nipple between his fingers. He rolled up his hips meeting her aching cervix. The pain radiated through her lower half, sending up a searing heat. She hissed, digging her fingernails into his sports coat covered arms. Too deep, she winced through her clenched teeth. “Yeah?” he asked, fake concern lingering, lightly jutting forward, pressing deeper just to watch the painful facial expression laid on her face. “You’re brat…I don’t like brats.”

“Mr. Shelby,” she whined, twitching around him. Pleading, she wanted him to ease. Which he obliged, and lifted her up a bit, pulling himself back. When she regained her composure, she took the wheel and rolled her hips into him; sliding up and down, attempting to slide her hand down to her throbbing clit, but he caught it. 

“No, no,” he said, clasping her hand in his, keeping it there. She was about to complain, but he pressed a finger to her lips. “Shh, just keep riding me…relax me. I’ve had a long day.” She nodded, resting her other hand on his shoulder for support as she raised her hips, a moan stuck in the back of her throat, feeling his thick cock sliding up and down her needy walls. He rested back, his breaths becoming ragged and hitched. She giggled when he rolled his head back, allowing her hand to slip from his grasp. But she was a good girl and didn’t dare touch her clit. She placed it on his other shoulder for support.

She circled her hips, watching his lip quiver stealing his grin. “Am I in charge, now?” she asked in a gasped, speeding up her pace, bouncing up and down. His eyes hazily watched her breasts follow along, taking one in each hand. He massaged them, fingers teasing at the nipples; pulling, pinching, flicking. It sent a perfect tingle down her spine. “Shit,” she gasped, leaning down, resting their foreheads together. It wasn’t supposed to be intimate. It’s just sex. But they kept eye contact, relaxing into each other's rhythms. 

“I’ll play along,” he said, licking up at her lips, but when she went to kiss him, he turned his head. “Keep ridin’ me.” He demanded her in a bathless gasp, getting impatient. He wanted a quick release. She let out a needy cry, begging him why when he slipped his hands from her sensitive breasts down to her hips, gripping them tightly. His knuckles turned white as his fingers dug into her soft flesh. Hard enough she could have sworn she felt him touching her hip bone. 

“Yes, sir,” she mocked, going faster; slamming down on him and enjoying the way his moans were deep and throaty. He jutted up, meeting her in her dips. Tommy’s thrusts got messy the faster they were. It was as if they were competing with who can go the fastest. No, who can wear the other one out first. It was her, of course. She wasn’t going to come from this and he selfishly knew that, enjoying the way her pussy felt around him. “Tommy!” She cried out, holding herself closer to his chest.

“Fuck, your pussy feels so good,” he said, sliding his lips down her neck to bite at her shoulder, growling. “Shit.” It was muffled and low. Rudely, he repeatedly slammed into her cervix, hardly giving her time to breathe and ease it as he felt his climax approach.

She pulled her face away from him and gripped his jaw. “Not in me,” she warned.

“No?” he laughed in breaths. “Where do you want it, huh? Your tits? Belly? Your arse?” He gave her ass a generous squeeze before reaching up and tangling his fingers in her hair, pulling her head back slightly. He felt his climax near, slowing his thrusts just enough to slip from her cunt. “Fuck!” He cursed, tugging his cock one handedly. A deep red flushed over her cheeks as she felt a stream of hot cum spray up her back and drip down over her ass. “Shit,” he moaned, out, closing his eyes to catch his breath. “Fookin’ ‘ell.” She slumped against him, sweaty and hot, but he didn’t allow her to rest long, pushing her off. “I have to get goin’, love,” he said, patting her cheek. 

“So you really are going to leave me like this?” she asked, referring to her lack of orgasm.

Tommy Shelby slid from his chair and fixed his trousers. “I told you, I hit a target and I’ll give the lady what she needs.” He winked, grabbing his gun from the counter. 

She laughed as if he was being humorous. He hardly said good night as he left. He wasn’t a weekly regular, but perhaps bi-weekly. Every other week he’d come in for the same thing; a whiskey neat. But it was going on three weeks then sooner or later a whole season passed without Tommy Shelby. But it was normal. People came and went, and she cursed herself each time she became attached to one person’s presence. 

However one night a few too many weeks later he came in as she was cleaning up. Through the reflection in a dark whiskey bottle, she saw him take a seat. A metal clink echoed the empty pub as he put down his gun. “We’re closed-”

“I’m not here for a drink,” he said. 

“I’m closed,” she said, not forgiving his selfish quick shot. 

He chuckled. “Say, love, do you prefer the feeling of a man's firm hand or soft tongue?” She froze, fingers knotting in the wet rag she used to clean the glasses. Swallowing, she turned to see the gun first then spots of red on his white shirt. Nervously, she looked up his arm to his face that wore specks of red. “Perhaps both at the same time-”

“Mr. Shelby-”

“C’mere,” he demanded, not asked. “And I’ll show you how much of a man of my word I am.”

[saltnsugarbear]

Congrats on 200!! This celebration is so fun! I would love to request the prompt “This is wrong.” “So wrong.” While continuing to pull at each others clothes, mind fogged with nothing but lust and arousal.” with Lip!

word count: 2.1k

content warnings: smut MDNI!!! i leaned heavily into the themes of Shameless I'm so sorry, fucking at a funeral, afab reader genitalia, unprotected sex,

side note: I'm picturing specifically the bathroom of the venue of the wedding i went to in February and it was in a like a vet association place so a VA in rural Wisconsin.

You didn't really know the deceased.

They were a friend of your parents and therefore you were dragged along. Seeing the eldest Gallaghers was a surprise to you. Chicago could be so small sometimes.

It's impossible to focus on the service with Lip staring at you. He's not even being subtle. He's been trying to float around you all afternoon, trying to get you alone while you were trying to help set up.

The service ends up being much later, as you wait for people to come in and gather. But you're sitting with your mom silently in one of the rows closest to the podium and bouquet of lilies in the front of the room. You didn't expect the Gallaghers to sit in the row over from you. They're also a row up, which gives Lip the opportunity to glance back at you as much as he pleased.

At a certain point you couldn't stand it anymore, clenching your jaw as you refrain from making a scene yelling at Lip. You sigh softly, deciding there was only one way for you to get this over with.

"Gonna go check on the food," you tell your mom, placing a reassuring hand on her arm before getting up.

It's no surprise when Lip gets up and follows you into the small kitchen area across from the bar. You pause at the sink, back turned to the serving window when Lip walks in. He joins you by the sink and you're quick to start shoving him farther back into the kitchen, towards the industrial dishwasher and three compartment sink.

"What is your problem?" You ask him, voice hushed so you can't be overheard.

"My problem?" He asks you, quirking a brow at you.

"Yes, your problem. You have a fucking staring problem. And instead of looking sad at a funeral, like you should, you look like you're waiting to fuck me in the back alley like you used to." Your voice is a rough whisper that can be hidden under the noise of mourners talking outside of the kitchen.

Lip scoffs and rolls his eyes, stuffing his hands in his pockets. "You think I wanna fuck you?"

"Oh, don't make me laugh, it's written all over your face." You cross your arms. Lip looks at you for a long moment, before reaching up to undo his tie with one hand. The motion confuses you, making you furrow your brow as you watched. Once his tie is undone, he brings it to rest around his neck plainly.

"What the fuck does that mean?" You ask, assuming it was how he wanted to respond to your statement. Which made no sense in any sort of matter other than he agreed to it.

Instead of answering you, Lip just takes a step towards you. In reaction, you can't help but step back. He takes a second step forward. Then a third. Then...

The fourth step has you both chest to chest with your back against the counter. He holds eye contact with you for a long time, searching for something you don't know. "What are you doing?"

Your voice is soft and quiet. Like you're trying to keep a secret. You can't do much but watch as Lip reaches for your wrist. You don't think much of it until he starts leading you out of the room. That's when it hits you he's not taking you back to the service room.

"What are you doing?" You hiss at Lip again as he drags you past the bar and arcade machines to the bathroom. For some reason he chooses the women's room, shouldering the door open and pulling you in.

"Lip, what-" You're cut off by his mouth on yours as Lip pushes you up against the door. Distantly, you can hear the door lock slide in place but it's background noise compared to Lip's presence around you.

You're reminded how intoxicating Lip can be. He's got one hand gripping your chin and the other lifting one of your legs up to bring your core against his half hard erection. He grinds against you, making you gasp and welcome him to explore your mouth. He practically inhales the whine that leaves your throat when he gives a particularly harsh rut against you.

Lip sets your leg down as he starts to trail kisses down your jaw. Your chest rises quickly as you try and catch your breath, sighing as he bites at your neck. Clapping outside of the door reminds you of where you are.

"This is wrong," you try and rationalize. Trying to maintain some shred of dignity.

"So wrong," Lip agrees, but his voice is distant as he rolls his hips into you. The force makes you grunt, pressing your hands flat against the door behind you. He's fumbling with the buttons of your pants, undoing them sloppily before shoving them down your legs.

"We're at a funeral.." You pant out, trying to remind him as Lip grabs your hips and walks backwards. Contrary to your words, you follow him and let Lip lift you onto the counter next to the sink.

"Uh-huh.." Lip agrees before bringing you into a messy kiss. It's all hot breathing and the cold linoleum counter top against the backs of your thighs. Both your fingers are fighting to undo his pants and dress shirt, pressing the fabric roughly against his skin. The sound of his belt coming undone echoes through the bathroom, dropping to the floor and skittering as he kicks it away.

While he undoes the button of his jeans, you start pushing off his suit jacket it. Lip lets it fall to the ground with his belt, favoring shoving his pants and boxers down. While he's distracted you lifts your hips and shove off your underwear, pulling it off your ankle and setting it under you to have some barrier between you and the counter.

Lip doesn't let you prepare much before he's nudging up against your entrance. He slides up to nudge your clit with his head, making you bite your lower lip to quiet yourself. He scoffs as you try and keep quiet, shaking his head because he knows the charade won't last.

The feeling of him pushing into you makes you gasp, arching into him as you slap a hand over your mouth. Lip let's you breathe for a moment, letting you adjust to the intrusion. He places soft kisses to the parts of your collarbone he can reach, coaxing you to relax. As you do, Lip pushes farther into you, causing you to whine as you bite down on your knuckles.

The groan that tears through both of you once he's fully nestled in you, echoes throughout the bathroom. You sigh heavily at the feeling, closing your eyes as Lip soothes a thumb over your hip. With your eyes closed, Lip finds it easier to press kisses over your face; kissing your cheeks gently, moving over your nose and kissing between your brows.

You give him the go ahead by jerking your hips upwards, whining when his length presses against your walls.

When he starts, Lip has a messy pace. Starting off fast, pounding into you in a way that has you squealing and shoving a knuckle between your teeth. The sound of skin against skin fills the bathroom so loudly you're sure someone will hear you.

Oh shit.

Someone could hear you.

"Wait- Lip, wait-" You get out. Barely. But the second the words are out of your mouth, Lip stops.

"What? What's wrong?" Lip shifts his hips like he's going to pull out but you're quickly tugging him back into you.

"Need-" You sigh heavily. "Need to be quieter... Slower.."

Realization takes over his expression, sighing 'oh' softly as he shifts on his feet. Now, Lip is no stranger to slow sex, it's just not his preferred style. But he understands the situation enough that he actually listens to you.

Lip's thrusts are slow and deep. Setting a slow and steady pace instead of a fast and rough one. Instead of fucking you like he usually did.

"Missed ya.." Lip grunts, pulling all the way out to the tip before slamming back into you. He found a way to make even the most intimate sex, rough and grabby.

"Yeah?" You ask breathlessly, trying to maintain some form of indifference. Like you didn't also miss him. "Or did you jus' miss- fuck- miss fuckin' me?"

Lip huffs at you, punishing your words with a a shallow thrust, causing you to whine.

"Maybe both," he grins as you lean your head back against the wall.

You sigh as Lip wraps an arm around you, holding your opposite hip tight as he leans a hand against the counter behind you. The grip he gets on you let's him thrust into you better. He manages to set a steady rhythm to his thrusting, making your mouth drop open as he punctuates each one with a smooth roll of his hips.

The little roll manages to create a delightful friction between your clit and Lip's happy trail, providing enough stimulation to keep you on a steady track to your own release. But Lip knows your body well enough. He knows when to bring his hand off the counter, instead letting you rest back again so he can split his fingers around where he sinks into you.

He uses the slick from both of you to coat his fingertips before he slides them up to rub at your clit. His steady movements makes you whine, making your legs clamp around his hips.

"Oh, fuck- fuck-" You whine, jolting up to bury your face in his shirt as your orgasm washes over you. You can't help but wrap your hands in his shirt, holding Lip close while he continues to rut into you messily. He grunts above you, giving you a few more sharp thrusts before you feel him twitch inside of you. "

"Shit-" He grunts, rolling his hips idly as he sighs into your hair.

Your forehead rests against his shoulder, breathing heavily as you catch your breath.

"Think anyone noticed we're gone?" Lip jostled you with his movements, nudging his shoulder against your forehead.

"Probably.." You sigh, lifting your head up and place your hands on the counter to keep yourself propped up.

"Should probably do something about that," he makes a circular gesture around his face but you know he means yours. "You look like you just got fucked instead of like you're mourning."

"Fuck you," you roll your eyes at Lip. But you probably do look like a mess compared to when you left the service.

"Again? Already? Y'sure?" Lip asks with a grin, tilting his head to one side.

"Idiot.." You huff, pushing him away with your knees so you can slide off the counter.

"Wanna um..." Lip hesitates as he kicks his belt along the floor a little. "Wanna go by Patsy's after?"

"Patsy's?" You ask him before turning over to face the mirror. Lip was right, you look like you've just had sex not like you're ready to attend a funeral. He makes a noncommittal noise as he ducks down to grab his belt and jacket from the floor.

"Mean figure I should buy you dinner after fucking you like that.." He shrugs as he reloops it and tucks in his dress shirt again.

"Never got me dinner before," You remind him as you adjust your appearance, wetting your fingers with water from the sink to wipe your face. You can see him moving in the corner of your eye as you finish adjusting your appearance to something that's at least a little bit presentable.

When you turn back to him, Lip has your pants in his hands. He's turning them so the button faces him when he looks up at you. Instead of handing them over, Lip comes to stand in front of you and kneels down, holding the pants out for you. You huff again as you place a hand on his shoulder when you step into your pants, letting Lip pull them up for you as he stands. He pulls you close by your hips, zipping up your pants and redoing your own belt.

"What d'ya say?" He asks softly, not letting go of you just yet.

"Lip.." You sigh softly, bringing your hands to flatten the suit jacket he's put back on.

"Just dinner. That's it." He tells you, looking at you with wide blue eyes.

You sigh again, buttoning his jacket for him before you place your hands over his.

"Okay.." You say and he's kissing you once the word is out. You let out a surprised hum, bringing a hand to his face to pull away a little.

"Just dinner." You remind him. Lip nods distractedly, looking at your lips and then your eyes quickly.

"Just dinner.." He repeats before kissing you again.

You already know it's going to be more than just dinner.

[isak-dot-gov]

Accidental Reveal

Pairing: Inȇs Bettencourt x Singer!Reader

Word count: 1307

My Masterlist :)

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

Inȇs was mentally checked out, sprawled on the floor of KK Arnold's dorm room, surrounded by the familiar faces of her UConn women’s basketball teammates. It had been a long day of gruelling practice, and they were all in the same boat—exhausted but trying to squeeze in some downtime. The laughter and casual banter that filled the room was enough to make Ines smile, but her mind was elsewhere.

You.

You were the reason her thoughts kept drifting, pulling her away from the noise of the dorm room. You, her girlfriend, were in New York City, performing the latest stop of your tour for your new album. While you had invited her, she hadn’t been able to make it tonight due to practice and a looming game this weekend. Instead, she’d tuned into your livestream earlier, feeling that rush of pride as she watched you perform with so much energy and passion. The same passion that made her fall for you.

Inȇs had been keeping this secret close to her heart for a while now. You two had decided to wait until the tour was over before going public. You deserved this moment for yourself—your first tour was a big deal, and the last thing you needed was the media focusing on your relationship instead of your music. You had both agreed: when it was time, you’d announce it together. A controlled, mutual decision.

But, in a few short moments, that decision was going to be ripped out of their hands.

KK, ever the social media enthusiast, had decided to go live on Instagram. It wasn’t unusual; they often shared snippets of their lives with their fans. This time was no different—just a casual, fun moment with the team after practice. KK was holding her phone out, streaming the group of girls sprawled across the room, answering fan questions and goofing off. Ines hadn’t really been paying attention to the livestream. She was busy scrolling through messages, hoping to find a text from you telling her how the concert went.

"Inȇs, say hi to the fans!" KK’s voice cut through her thoughts, and she instinctively waved at the camera with a half-smile, still distracted.

"Hey," she mumbled, not even looking up from her phone. She could hear her teammates chatting, laughing at some of the questions being asked in the comments, but it all felt like background noise to her.

KK glanced at her with a playful smirk. "You watching anything good lately, Ines?"

It was a throwaway question, something to keep the conversation going for the fans. Inȇs answered without even thinking, her head still full of you and your electric performance from earlier.

"Yeah, just watched my girlfriend’s tour livestream—she killed it."

The room went silent. 

For a few seconds, Ines didn’t notice. She was still glued to her phone, waiting for your reply. But then, she felt the weight of the sudden quiet, the absence of laughter, and she looked up.

KK’s face had gone pale, her eyes wide with shock as she stared at her phone, still streaming. The other girls were frozen too, exchanging stunned looks with one another. It was like someone had hit pause on the entire room. And then, KK’s brain finally kicked into gear, her hands fumbling to end the live stream as fast as possible.

Inȇs’ heart dropped, her pulse quickening as she realised what had just happened.

No. No, no, no. What did I just do?

She could feel the panic rising in her chest, the weight of her mistake crushing her with every passing second. Her heart was pounding in her ears, her breath coming in short gasps as she stood there, frozen in place. She had just outed her relationship with you—live—to thousands of people watching. It wasn’t just a slip of the tongue; it was a slip that could spiral into a media frenzy.

KK quickly ended the live and slowly looked up at Ines. “Uh… Inȇs, are you okay?”

“I just…” Inȇs stammered, her voice breaking. “I… we were supposed to go public after the tour. Oh my God, I just ruined everything.”

Her teammates quickly gathered around her, offering murmurs of reassurance, but their worried faces only made her feel worse. She could already see the notifications exploding on her phone—comments, tags, DMs. The news was out there now, and there was no taking it back.

"You didn’t ruin anything, it’s just… a little earlier than planned, right?" KK tried to sound upbeat, but her voice wavered. 

“Yeah, and it’s not like you said her name or anything. People might think of someone else,” Paige said, trying to solidify what KK had said and calm the situation. The truth was, they all knew this was big. You were a rising star, with a massive fanbase, and Inȇs was part of one of the most famous college basketball programs in the country. The media wouldn’t let this slide by quietly.

"I need to talk to her," Inȇs muttered, suddenly grabbing her phone. Her fingers were trembling as she pulled up your number and hit call. She could barely hold onto the phone, her hands shaking with guilt and fear.

The phone rang twice, and Ines held her breath.

"Hey, babe!" Your voice came through the line, bubbly and excited. "I just got off stage! How was practice?"

Inȇs choked back a sob, barely able to get the words out. "I… I messed up. I’m so sorry."

There was a pause on your end, the excitement in your voice dimming slightly. "Neshy, what happened? You’re scaring me."

Inȇs swallowed hard, forcing herself to explain, her voice cracking with each word. "KK was live on Tiktok, and I… I accidentally said we were dating. I didn’t mean to and I didn’t say your name! It just slipped out, and now everyone knows, and we were supposed to wait, and I’m so sorry. I ruined everything, I—"

"Inȇs, baby," you interrupted gently, your voice calm. "Breathe."

"I—I just… I messed up. I didn’t mean to put us like that. I know how important this tour is for you, and now everything’s going to blow up and—"

"Babe, slow down," you said, your tone soothing. "It’s okay. It’s really okay."

Ines stopped pacing, her tears still falling but her heart slowing as she heard the steady calmness in your voice. "But… we were supposed to wait."

"I know," you replied softly. "But listen, this doesn’t change anything between us. We’ll figure it out together, okay? The only difference is that now, people know you’re dating someone. And honestly, if they know, they know. We were going to tell them eventually anyway."

"But… the timing—"

"I’d much rather they find out because you couldn’t help but brag about me," you teased gently, a smile in your voice.

Inȇs let out a shaky laugh, wiping at her eyes. "You were so amazing tonight, I couldn’t help it."

"Thank you, baby," you said with affection. "I’m glad you watched. And listen, we’ll talk tomorrow about how to handle everything, okay? We can make an official announcement together if you want, or we can just let it be. It’s up to us."

Inȇs sniffled, the tension slowly easing out of her shoulders. "You’re not mad?"

"Of course not," you reassured her. "I love you. We’ll figure this out, like we always do."

A soft smile spread across Inȇs’ face, her heart swelling with love and relief. "I love you too. So much."

"Good. Now, get some rest, okay? We’ve got this."

As the call ended, she let out a long breath, feeling lighter. The panic had passed, replaced with the warmth of your love. The world might know now, but it didn’t matter. What mattered was that you were in this together, ready to face whatever came next—side by side.

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

Isak seaks: I wrote like three parts to this lol :0

[nova--spark]

Heya! I stumbled across your Smoke Bee Switch AU and thought it would be fun to write about it! The scene below is a small exert from the larger project that I'm gonna be working on and off from, featuring all sorts of different headcanons and a few surprise characters.

(The scene below is a draft, and will go through alternations as I proceed.)

Context: This scene happens right after the Bee team moves into Denny's Scrapyard after The Pilot Part 2 and it follows Smokescreen and Bumblebee trying to navigate having two new missions.

~~~

The shadow moved so fast. But the only mech who possessed such speed that Smokescreen had ever bore witness to was- 

“You didn’t tell me the plan had changed,” The now fully black-mode mech hissed once he had come into proper speaking distance. “When were you going to tell me you were going to high-tread it off to Earth the klik you got the chance?” 

Smokescreen winced, the form he was possessing now feeling so much worse now that he was face to face with the mech he was disguised as. “I didn’t know I was going to Earth either, Bee. I’m sorry. I would have eventually contacted you,” 

Bumblebee, in his black shadowed form and beady bright blue optics, simply treaded in front of him like a predator stalking its prey. “With no ground bridge, no satellite, no communicator that could reach back to Cybertron, and no tech to even begin making any of those at your disposal,” 

“I said eventually,” Smokescreen replied back weakly. 

Bumblebee’s vent fans blew loudly for Smokescreen to hear before they went silent again. “More like never,” Bumblebee shot back accusingly. “You never planned on ever communicating back to me once you escaped back to Earth, did you?” 

“Bee, I need you to trust me when I tell you this,” Smokescreen watched the younger mech cautiously, doing his best to remain as unthreatening as possible so as to not set the young mech off. “I saw him. I saw Optimus,” 

“Be very cautious with what comes out of your vocalizer next,” Bumblebee snapped, taking one tread forward with his ped in an offense ready stance. His shadowed wings spread out to make his whole body seem to take up even more space- like a black hole completely erasing what precious light they were using. 

Smokescreen let his vent fans run, trying to produce some sort of background noise to make it seem like less of a standoff. He was not going to fight Bumblebee if he could help it. “Do you trust me?” 

Bumblebee didn't budge, but Smokescreen didn't take that as a threat. Slowly, he raised his hands and then extended one out. 

“Meld with me,” Smokescreen spoke gently. 

Bumblebee still didn't budge, as if the very idea of melding with Smokescreen was worse than being offlined. 

“Meld with me, please. I promise I won't hold anything back. I'll give it all to you to show you that I'm speaking the truth,” Smokescreen pleaded, his desperation revealing itself not only through his emotional field but in his voice too. “I promise. Just please… Do you trust me?” 

The younger mech continued to stare him down, and for a moment, Smokescreen feared Bumblebee was going to do his worst. Then to Smokescreen’s greatest relief, Bumblebee stiffly extended one of his arms out and approached in robotic motions. Soldier like, where his guard never dropped, even for a moment in the company of an ally. 

When their digits graced each other, they intertwined and Smokescreen allowed the younger mech to lead every step of the way. Then Bumblebee’s optics flickered dark and Smokescreen’s followed suit. 

The events of the day flooded them both, going from Smokescreen to Bumblebee. The echoes and snippets of every detail, significant and minor, seemed to reverb between them effortlessly. Getting ready for the chord, greeting every bot he came across, receiving daily tasks from the station, meeting Strongarm and recalling all of her little personality traits, the feeling of freedom and flight whenever they moved to the next patrol location, encountering all the miscellaneous troubles throughout the chord, hearing about and encountering Sideswipe, and then- 

“Optimus,” Bumblebee expressed suddenly through their meld. It wavered with shock, disbelief, and a newfound hope. The memory played and replayed, and Smokescreen allowed the younger to do it as many times as he wanted because that's what he owed him. 

Then, without prompting, Bumblebee released the last chord’s events back on Cybertron to Smokescreen before the unauthorized usage of the ground bridge. Reviving from recharge, morning routine checks with subordinates, daily orders and messages that Bumblebee relayed to the other Elite Guardsmen, important times that Bumblebee had taken note of, and then meeting with Cyclonus and- 

“Who is that?” Smokescreen asked. 

“His name is Sunstreaker,” Bumblebee replied. “He was just assigned to you- me- us- to be an understudy,” 

“From Cyclonus?” 

“Straight from the top,” 

Smokescreen observed the young mech in the recall Bumblebee had provided. A light yellow frame, much lighter than Bumblebee’s, a thin build obviously built for speed but not so much endurance. No warframe by any means, but some bot who would be more useful for physical labors and active civil duties rather than in a facility. 

“He looks just like Sideswipe,” 

“He should. He’s Sideswipe’s twin,” 

Smokescreen was taken aback by the statement. “A spark-split twin?” 

“Yep. Spark-split twin. He's a good youngster. Eager, energetic, but a lot calmer and more willing to improvise and think outside the strategic box,” 

Smokescreen couldn't help but to let his processors hum in approval, and Bumblebee agreed with his own light and peaceful hum. 

They continued to reveal things to each other and after each moment of recollection was shared, Bumblebee kept relaxing more and more. The assurance that everything Smokescreen had said was actually the truth must have helped wonders. They went like that, a simple and careful back and forth which revealed the mini-con, the humans and the Decepticons: all the way up until Optimus appeared again- this time- sort of physically in their world. Right in front of them in order to save the human father. 

All at once, the meld between them snapped like a twig and Smokescreen found himself brought harshly to reality again. He was brought back so harshly that Smokescreen fell back and hit the soft Earth ground below without warning. 

In a scramble to sit up, Smokescreen scraped his peds against the ground. 

Bumblebee didn't seem to fare any better from the sudden break in the meld, even though he had initiated it. He had stumbled and placed his hands over his face plate, hunched over and crouched at his knee joints like he was ducking poorly for cover from an incoming explosive. His vent fans were whirring loudly and his voice box sounded like it was going on the fritzs even though it had long since been repaired by the Omega Lock. 

Smokescreen rose to his peds again, trying his best to get his servos to stop jittering and jerking. “Bumblebee?” 

Without warning, Bumblebee collapsed to his knees, and Smokescreen rushed to him, reaching out his hands to try and figure out what was wrong. But when he placed a hand on the younger mech’s shoulder, Bumblebee jerked away and Smokescreen withdrew as quickly as he extended. 

And the two knelt there on the ground, in the dirt, on Earth. The night time was just past its peak and the sounds they had grown accustomed to during the end of the war raged peacefully around them. The only sound that wasn't of this planet was coming from Bumblebee. A sound Smokescreen could now identify as intense despair and distress- despair that took the form of heavy heaves, static filled vocals, and a total lock up of bodily systems. 

“My sire…” Bumblebee finally spoke out, his speech sounding like a mixture of vocals and beeps and static. “My sire is…” 

Smokescreen- didn't know what to say. 

“Yes,” He finally confirmed. “I don't know how, but he is, and he can't maintain a physical presence for very long,” 

This time Bumblebee didn't respond. 

Smokescreen continued. “He gave me a mission, Bee. A mission that- he couldn't quite explain. But he said that the team I have now here on Earth is a team that will help me succeed in completing this mission,” 

Bumblebee seemed to have composed himself more in the time that Smokescreen had been speaking. And while he didn't turn to directly face him, he managed to speak with a clear vocalizer. “You already have a mission, Smoke,” 

“What?” 

“The one you dragged me into? To try to figure out if there was something wrong with the Senate? Your feeling of wrongness that you exclaimed over and over again to convince me into helping you for half a cycle?” Bumblebee reminded bitterly. 

Smokescreen felt his internals heat up at the recollection. “Bee,” 

But Bumblebee was already moving past it and he rose to his peds, standing with his back to the other. “Whatever. Follow your mission from Optimus then, see if I care,” 

Smokescreen reached out a hand toward the younger mech. “Bumblebee-” 

“Don't touch me,” Bumblebee hissed, turning around finally to face him with burning hostility. 

Smokescreen froze, but reluctantly lowered his hand. 

“Just for your information, however, your unit has a routine health inspection,” Bumblebee informed sharply. “Which means, in case you can't put that into perspective, that the medical staff over at the capital have technology that's strong enough to bypass my disguise,” 

And like a solar wave, it hit him. His emotional field went shaky before he managed to get it back under control. But that didn't shake the true reality of what the younger had informed him of. “When?” 

“In seven arcs,” 

Smokescreen shook his helm. “I- I can't leave my team here by themselves,” 

“Well, your whole plan is about to go to the pits the klik they run their high end scanners over me. I might not have a file, but you do, and if you don't come up when they try to scan ‘you’-” 

“I know! I know, I know, I know!” Smokescreen finally blurted, turning from the younger mech and putting his hands on his helm. He began to tread back and forth, trying and failing to get his emotional field under control while still trying to come up with something that wouldn't immediately be rejected by the more experienced youngster. His vent fans began to run automatically and his HUD ran scenarios and returned data to him that wasn't useful in the slightest. It would all end up as an error or as a failure- it all told him what his subconscious was already telling him. He was a failure and he was not ready to lead a team, no matter how loudly Optimus’ words of support and confidence in him rang through his audio receptors. 

Ducking his helm, Smokescreen gripped his hands into fists. “I have a mission that I put you on, but Optimus gave me another one- Primus, frag all! I know what you’re thinking, I'm not ready, but by Primus I can't not be ready. I just-” his vocals faltered on him and he fell mute. 

Smokescreen remained in his state of distress, until he felt an emotional wave of comfort wash over him. An emotional wave that was filled with remorse, sympathy, and mild regret. Regret that was coming from- 

“Go back to Cybertron, Smoke,” 

Smokescreen’s spark fell. 

“Go through the medical check as yourself, and then come back,” Bumblebee finished. 

Smokescreen, despite the lighter feeling in his spark, immediately went to reject the idea. “How would we possibly-” 

A tap on his shoulder pulled him out of his self-spiral and he turned to identify what the younger mech had tapped him with. What he came faced with was Bumblebee, no longer disguised in his shadowy blacks but in his yellows that Smokescreen was replicating. In his hand was a wrist device and a spare communications device that went into one’s audio receptor. Spares that were left over from the war. Spares that everyone else had turned in because they were to be reprocessed for other things aside from war. 

Staring at the two devices, Smokescreen lifted his optics to meet with Bumblebee’s. “What… where did you-” 

“If you think that I'd ever let myself be stranded on Cybertron without a means of escaping, then you're more naive than I thought,” Bumblebee informed bluntly before moving on. “Use the bridge and take the comm with you. That way we can signal to each other where we need to meet in order to trade back again. It'll be our private little trade off so we can hop between both planets,” 

Smokescreen tried to interject. “But Bee-” 

“You want both of your missions to carry on, right?” Bumblebee interrogated firmly, his tone falling down at being interrupted. When Smokescreen didn't speak up again, he continued. “Go back for your routine inspections and scans whenever they appear for me, and for however long it takes, I'll fill in and take your place down here on Earth. That way, your presence as ‘me’ won't abandon your gaggle of youngsters here, and my presence as ‘you’ can continue as uncompromised to allow me to work more efficiently,” 

“What about the gaps in knowledge and information?” Smokescreen asked. “There's no possible way we can fill each other in on everything without tediously drafting up reports,” 

Bumblebee held up his other hand, showing the palm and digit pads to the elder mech. “No more secrets,” he said simply, like it was the most obvious thing in the universe. 

And it was the most obvious thing in the universe. It was easily executed with the tech Bumblebee already had on him, but despite its simplicity, Smokescreen hesitated where he originally would've taken the plan and ran with it blindly. The idea was better than any he would've came up with, but he was hesitating. And by the Prime’s he never hesitated like this before. 

Bumblebee noticed it just like Smokescreen knew he would. “You've got secrets,” Bumblebee revealed blankly. 

“Don't we all?” Smokescreen rebutted insecurely. 

Bumblebee’s optics narrowed with heightened frustration. “None that we haven't had ourselves, Smoke. Your secrets are just like mine, with mild variations scattered about,” 

Smokescreen didn't reply. 

“We are both sparks of war. We both saw things. We both did things. Things that we’re ashamed of and things that we were morbidly prideful about. Whatever you've seen and whatever you're hiding? Is nothing I haven't seen and hid myself,” 

And Smokescreen couldn't argue anymore with that. And once he finally let his processors accept that, he released his disguise of Bee and returned to himself. Whites, blues, reds, and yellows returned to him- chasing away the yellows, blacks, blues, and reds he had taken in order to perfectly fool even the best, most observant optics. 

The two of them stood like that, as if to confirm for each other that they were back to normal again. That they were themselves and not the other. The confirmation was liberating, but heavy on his conscience as he reached and took the wrist device and comm from the real Bumblebee. 

“Don't scare them,” Was all Smokescreen could say. 

Bumblebee nailed him with an annoyed and reprimanding look. “Don't blow my cover,” 

They stared at each other, using the moonlight and the colors of their paints to outline their forms. Millions of words went unsaid between them, as their optics gazed into their very sparks. 

Then, without a word, Smokescreen treaded away from Bumblebee and opened a bridge back to Cybertron. He looked at the yellow mech one last time. “I'll be back,” 

“I’m counting on it,” 

Then he treaded through. 

~~~

And that's what I have! I hope you enjoyed!

I AM SORRY BUT PLEASE KNOW THIS MADE ME

sit in my car after dropping off my laptop

for 10 minutes in AWE

AT THE AMAZING DEVELOPMENT MADE BY YOU WITH JUSG A BRIEF SYNOPSIS OF THIS AU???

@lets-try-some-writing BITCH LOOK AT THIS

BECAUSE THIS LITERALLY IS EVERYTHING I COULD EVER WANT FOR THIS AU BECAUSE GOOD GODDAMN LORD IT'S GLORIOUS

BOTH BOYS HEARTBROKEN AND IN SHOCK, AND HAVING SECRETS, OG MY GOD I LOVED THE BIT ABOUT THE MED EVAL ANS SWITCHING PLAVES AGAIN ALND KWHVO3H OY3 KABP9CS

MAY YOUR PILLOWS BE COLD, YOUR MCD'S SPRITE CRISPY, YOUR FOOD EVER YUMMY AND YOUR DAYS MERRY, OMFG THIS IS AMAZING

[ghcstao3]

OMG I NEED YOU TO WRITE THE NEIGHBOURS GHOSTSOAP FIC PLEASE I'M BEGGING YOU PLEASE PLEASE PL

(part 1)

-

Ghost wakes up to the sound of someone knocking on his front door—to which he feels the need to frown at, because he hadn’t been expecting any visitors.

When he grumpily swings open the door to find John on the other side, his irritation subsides, just a little.

“Mornin’!” John greets, his grin far too bright for—Ghost lifts his wrist and squints down at his watch—nine in the morning. “Brought you something. Or, well. My Mam made them so I could bring you—“

Ghost raises a tired hand to wag his finger and point at the container in John’s hands, asking in lazy movements, “What is it?”

“Oh!” John blinks. He thrusts the container into Ghost’s unoccupied hand, and somehow his smile grows tenfold. “Tattie scones. Wasn’t sure what you might like, so. Went with something simple.”

Ghost squints at John a moment, before swallowing a yawn as he offers a mumbled thank you and pries open the lid. He holds it out to John, but he just shakes his head.

“I have my own. Just wanted to apologize for the noise.”

Ghost nods, stuffs a scone in his mouth, closes the lid. He then steps aside and gestures for John to enter the flat because he supposes it’s courtesy, and if he’s making tea for one he may as well offer for another.

John follows with a shrug.

“Tea?” Ghost asks. Then pauses, considering, before he scrunches his nose and signs instead, “Coffee?”

John barks a laugh, shaking his head again. “I won’t force you to make coffee if you hate it. Just water, if that’s okay?”

Ghost obliges, traversing his kitchen as John sits politely at the island. He feels eyes on his back all the while he fetches the water and puts on a kettle, but for once Ghost doesn’t feel unnerved by the sensation. In fact, dare he say he feels almost… comforted.

They sit in silence a while as the water boils and even a while after, nothing more than the shriek of the kettle to break it, and Ghost’s quiet compliments to John’s mother for the scones.

After a few tentative sips of tea and a refill for John, Ghost ventures to begin signing a question that had plagued him since meeting his neighbour.

He only mouthes the words as he signs, rediscovering that comfort in silent communication that he’d had to abandon in his retirement if only for not having anyone left to share it with.

“How did you…” Ghost pauses, wincing slightly as he questions, “…have you always been deaf?”

John’s smile has since dimmed considerably, though it’s no less friendly. He only uses sign for about half of what he says, and if Ghost could guess, it’s likely a clashing mix of habits.

“Not always,” John says. “I was in the military. Specialized in demolitions, got too close to an explosion, though my hearing was already shite by then. Had to retire early, but so is life, I guess.”

Ghost smiles weakly. “We’re not so different, then.”

John’s eyebrows knit together with curiosity, so Ghost takes the invitation to continue. Normally, he doesn’t think he’d ever be so open with a near complete stranger—but sharing that background, somehow it seems… easier.

He knows Price would be a right smug bastard about this if he knew.

“Also military. Retired from injury. Knee is fucked.”

John snorts. “I’m sure that’s one way of putting it.”

Ghost shrugs. They fall back into comfortable, companionable silence until John announces he should go, he does have work to attend to.

“What do you do?” Ghost can’t help but wonder.

“Boring office stuff from home,” John tells him. “Art commissions on the side, if I’m up to it. You?”

Ghost huffs. “Working on it,” he mutters. He doesn’t particularly care for John knowing about that.

The man seems to understand anyway, but says nothing of it. He just thanks Ghost again for the company, Ghost thanks him for the scones, and they bid each other a good rest of their day.

It’s weird—as Ghost hears John’s door shut across the hall, he finds he already misses his presence.

Maybe he should dig up some of his mum’s old recipes and return the favour. It’s definitely not an excuse, or anything like that, just… friendly neighbour activities.

Yeah. That’s all it is.

[i-thirsty-boi]

Platonic Yandere Recoms X Child Na'vi Reader (Pt. 1)

~A/N: This is pretty short because I didn't know what I wanted to include in it. I would appreciate you guys telling me what you want included in the next part in the replies!

Masterlist

CW: yandere behavior (platonic), technical kidnapping, background death

~

-You were a forest navi that lived with your parents in one of the clans away from the mountains. (Not the omatikaya with the Sullys) You were only 3 when it happened. 

-It was a peaceful day in your village and you went out into the forest with your mother to collect herbs for your tsahik. Your mother was a healer as well, so you interacted with them often. You were holding your mom’s hand all through the walk when you both heard a strange noise deeper in the forest. One that neither of you had heard before. 

-As you two were waiting to hear more, you suddenly heard screaming come from your village. Your mother immediately picked you up and started running towards your village. 

-While she was running, she suddenly stopped and dropped to the ground, shouting in pain. You skidded away from her on the ground, then looked over to see she was injured and bleeding heavily. She had a hole in her stomach!

-You went back over to her and hugged her shoulders while beginning to heavily sob. Your crying seemed to draw the ones responsible to you though. 

-You were too distracted with your mother to notice the foreign navi approaching you two. But your mother saw them, pulling you closer to her as she watched them walk closer. 

You only noticed them once they were right next to you two, pointing weapons at you both. You moved to the side, but still clutched your mother, scared and upset by that point. You just cried while looking at the strange navi in strange clothes. You shifted behind your mother while still hugging her neck when seeing one of them walk closer to you. 

The man that walked closer seemed like the leader of them, and he spoke some language you couldn’t understand to you, making you scrunch your face at them. The ones behind the man were looking at both of you, and seeing you do that made the one with, no hair?, smile. You just shuffled back even more. 

Then the man in the front pulled out a weapon and pointed it at your mother. She just let out silent tears and begged them not to kill you. You were her only concern in that moment, knowing she probably wouldn’t make it. You just continued sobbing while holding her tighter, not wanting to let her go. 

-The one without hair was the one to catch the general meaning of the phrase and walk closer to you. Putting a hand on the first man’s shoulder and quietly saying something to him. He just sighed and barely nodded after a few seconds. 

-You just looked between them in confusion, then the hairless man walked right over to you. He crouched down in front of you and said something in an almost gentle tone to your mother before reaching for you. 

-You violently shook your head and held on tighter. Your mother told you it would be okay before breaking your grip and letting the man pick you up. Once he had you in his arms, he walked back to the rest of the group. 

-You cried even louder and reached for your mother as all of them started walking away. The man just rubbed your back as you made your way away from what you knew. In almost no time at all you made it to a big human contraption. 

-Once you got inside of it, you were too tired to continue struggling and just slumped into the grip of the man holding you. Letting out a big sigh before drifting off to sleep. Clutching the man’s shirt the whole time.

-All of them relaxed, subconsciously, when they saw you fall asleep. Glad that they didn’t have to listen to you crying still. They felt kind of bad for you, but understood how you must feel. 

All of them made their way to the area their beds were in. There were enough for all of them, and a couple extra beds, just in case. Lyle tried to set you down on one of the spare beds, but you refused to let go of his neck. He kept at it for about five more minutes before giving up and making his way to his bed with you still clinging to his neck. 

He laid down with you on his chest while everyone else took off their gear to get comfortable for sleeping. Eventually, Z-dog came over to him and gently pried you off of him so he could get comfortable too. She let you cling to her instead, making her way to her own bed. You snuggled hard into her, which she thought was pretty cute. She felt kind of queasy thinking about almost killing you, a very young child, and was almost forced to think about the other navi children she has affected while on this planet. 

-She didn’t even realize that she had kissed the top of your head until Mansk came over and chuckled at her while rubbing your back. He just said he knew what she must be thinking before laying down himself. 

-She just deeply sighed before laying her head down and drifting off to sleep. 

-In the morning, she was woken up by you squirming on top of her. She looked down at you to see you trying to push her away from you. She just smiled down at you before getting up with you in her arms and making her way to the bathroom. 

-She was the only woman there, so she had her own separate bathroom from the guys. She just set you down on a stool on the floor so you could see what she was doing. She knew you really couldn’t understand her, so she figured she would provide examples for you to get you clean and keep you calm. 

-She started by using the toilet, a little embarrassed about someone seeing it, but it was different since you were a young child that didn’t know what anything in their base was. You looked confused, but seemed to understand the purpose of it. So, she helped you onto the toilet and held you up as you did your business. She helped you wipe then moved along to the showers in the connected room. 

-She had to gently shush you when attempting to undress you. But figured her doing it first would help her in her attempts. She took her own clothes off before going back to you and kneeling down to your height and, again, attempting to help you undress. This time you allowed her. 

Once both of you were undressed, she picked you up and brought you into the shower with her. She knew she could work with your hair since it wasn’t in braids like navi usually have. She moved you into one of her arms as she turned the water on in the shower. You flinched because of the surprise of it. She chuckled at you while waiting for the water to warm up a bit. 

Once it was warm, she moved both of you into the spray of the water. You looked at it in confusion, which made her actually laugh. She just set you onto your feet and grabbed the shower head to rinse the dirt off of you two first. She started with your hair and gently rubbed your head to get as much of the dirt out as possible. Then, she moved down your body, rinsing you off before doing the same for herself. When she was done, she grabbed some shampoo, poured some over your hair before rubbing it in. She pulled your head to lean back a little bit, scrubbing your scalp for a bit. Smiling at your relaxed face while she was washing your hair. It didn’t take her long to finish, and she grabbed the shower head again before rinsing your hair out. After that she washed her own hair. Then, she grabbed some body wash and scrubbed both of you down before rinsing you off and turning off the water. She grabbed a towel for herself and dried her body and hair. Then, another towel for you and dried you off and bundled you in it before setting you back on the stool and putting new clothes on herself. 

-Once she was dressed, she picked you up and brought your old clothes out with her to join the others. 

-They saw her walk over to the group eating breakfast. With your clothes in her hand and you covered with the towel in the other. 

-They just raised their brows at her as she was getting close to them. She explained that she bathed you, but didn’t have any more clothes for you. Plus, she didn’t know how to wash your previous ‘clothes’ properly. 

-The men just took a minute to think before saying some of the human female clothes could fit you, and going to look for some. 

-They came back with a t-shirt and cargo pants, along with socks and underwear. Zdinarsk took the clothes with you back to the bathroom to help you put them on. You didn’t struggle until the socks, which she gave up on quickly. It wouldn’t hurt you to walk around barefoot. 

-You were pouting and pulling at the clothes as she walked with you back to the main group. Not at all used to being so covered. 

-As soon as you were set down on a chair amongst the group, your ears went down and you continued pulling at the clothes. 

-Lyle just sat down next to you and patted your shoulder before setting some food in front of you. 

-You looked up at him before looking at the food, sighing before reaching out and taking a very small bit of it in your fingers and eating it. Your ears went back up at the flavor and you began eating it enthusiastically. You even leaned closer to the counter. 

-It didn’t take you long to finish it, and before long you were yawning. You climbed in the man’s lap and laid your head on his chest, quickly falling asleep like you would with your mother. 

-Lyle himself was just shocked at how quickly you went back to sleep, but figured you were young from how tiny you were for a navi. 

-He addressed the group and said they would have to look through the books to ask you how old you were when you woke up. 

-He just got agreements from everyone and Mansk getting up and going to get the navi books to figure out what phrase would be easiest for the situation. 

It took an hour of you napping on Lyle for you to wake up, and by then Mansk was ready enough to ask you your age. He gently knelt in front of you with the book and repeated the phrase from it, which made you scrunch your face. But eventually you held up three fingers. He raised his brows before giving you a thumbs up and using his fingers for his age as well, which made you give a tiny smile. 

When he stood up he just deadpan said that you were three, a toddler. The rest of the group facepalmed, and realized that they had traumatized a toddler. They weren’t surprised, but they were disappointed. 

-They spent the rest of the day entertaining you while trying to teach you some english. You had picked up a good bit of what they were trying to teach you, which they were happy about. 

-You happily ate all of the meals, which kind of shocked all of them. They figured your young age blessed them with your curiosity. 

… 

-It had been almost a month with you, and they were all very attached. They very much enjoyed you being with them. They even had to be reminded to look for the Sullys. 

-In that time, you have also greatly improved your english skills. You could have simple conversations with them in english. 

-You have even been able to do a lot of things yourself after they taught you how to do them, like going to the bathroom, after they put some more stools in there for you. 

-One night, they had gathered to have a discussion once you had gone to sleep. 

They had been discussing whether they even wanted to continue their mission or not now that they had you. They knew for a fact that they couldn’t do both. They could either finish the mission they were given, or continue to care for you. 

And they really liked taking care of you. 

~

To be continued... (Plz give me ideas for this)

Tags: @iggy5055 , @eywas-heir , @onlyreadz , @horniestbutterfly

[translatemunson]

don’t you dare look out the window, darling, everything’s on fire • ttfd

chapter seven of the tortured firefighters department

previous chapter | masterlist | next chapter

cw: fem!reader, afab!reader, no descriptions of reader, huge fire (but no one died), brains being in risk, pov change, oblivious people in love, also maddie and chim are not married yet here, no proofreading otherwise i’d never post this (lmk if i missed something)

You knew something was odd when you stepped foot in CalTech that day. You attended a morning class, did your part as a TA for your professor, and had 20 minutes to grab something before your 1 P.M. meeting. When you were leaving the Linde Hall’s after a meeting with one of your professors, you sensed the panic in the air. And then you heard an explosion.

People were running away from all the buildings around, and the fire was taking over rapidly. That’s when the alarms in your mind went off and instead of running away from it, you ran to the doors and pulled the fire alarm. Once people started evacuating the building on fire, you heard another explosion.

“Help! Help!” A girl, probably in her masters, walked out of the building. “My friend is stuck on the last floor.”

You looked around and tried to hear, over the screams and calls for help, any signs of the sirens. Nothing. You told people to call 9-1-1, but what was taking them so long?

“What’s their name?” you asked.

“Tyler.”

“Ok. Can you tell me where you last saw them?”

“He went looking for more people on the far back labs on the second  floor and- and I heard something downstairs and he told me to run.” She looked back to the building. “Please, someone save him.”

You could hear the voices of everyone from the 118 saying it was stupid, you were not a firefighter, you should wait for them. But you couldn’t. You gave her your backpack, threw the rest of your water onto your shirt, pushed your phone into one of your pockets and ran into danger.

You walked up the stairs, shirt covering your mouth, the fire getting hungrier every second. You screamed Tyler’s name as loud as you could, opening all the doors and checking for him or anyone else.

In one of the labs, you found him with a lady, trying to move her from underneath one of the fallen shelfs. In a silent agreement, he lifted it and you pulled her free. He picked her up and you screamed “The stairs! We can use them and escape through the main entry!”

They made it to the stairs, and you checked the labs one more time, staying behind. Once you started to follow them, part of the ceiling structure collapsed over the stairs and locked you there. The fire was getting closer.

You ran back to one of the undamaged laboratories — for now. You stayed away from the door. You checked the drawers and closets for anything helpful. You opened one of the windows to check if jumping was an option.

No, it wasn’t. You were stuck until help arrived. And your stomach dropped: would they find you before the flames?

Grabbing your phone from your pocket, you called your last hope.

“9-1-1, what’s your emergency?”

“This is dispatcher 990222. I need”, you coughed, “I need to talk to dispatcher Maddie Buckley.”

You heard the noise, your call going through, stuck on thinking Maddie was probably busy with any emergency right now. You pulled your shirt up, hiding your face under the wet material, trying to breathe as calmly as one can do in the middle of a building in flames.

“9-1-1, what’s your-”

“Maddie, it’s Brains.”

“Oh my God, hey. Please tell me you’re safe and sound. We are getting hundreds of calls from CalTech about a fire.” You could hear the muffled voices of other dispatchers in the background.

“I wish.” Another cough. “ETA?”

Maddie fell silent before telling you, “One fire department team is 2 minutes away from campus. Where are you?”

“In the middle of the fire, Physics Lab Building I believe. Last floor. Inside a lab.”

“Oh, Brains,” you could hear her disappointment. “Is there any way for you to escape?”

“Main staircase is blocked, windows open just enough to ventilate the lab, I can’t make this jump even if I tried. The fire is getting close to my location.”

“What kind of lab is it?”

“I’m not sure, maybe just engineering. Nothing explosive or toxic on sight here. But I can’t say the same about other labs around me.”

“Ok, I’m accessing the blueprints right now, I’m looking for a secondary way out of there.”

“Maddie.”

“We are getting you out there, ok? Hang on, there must be a way. I’m gonna guide you to the emergency stairs and-”

“Fire is blocking the exits, Mads. I looked around. ETA?”

“118 just arrived. Which lab are you in?”

You looked around for any numbers or signs. “Electronic, east side I think.”

The line went mute, as you expected.

“Brains, I need-”

“Breaking a window right now. Please, tell them, hurry up.”

The flames were violent and hungry, moving to your direction quickly. You used lab equipment to break two windows, the outside noise took over your senses just to be engulfed with the flames.

You heard one of the gas tanks in a lab exploding. You barely saw the firetruck stairs before feeling your lungs too heavy, your eyes too tired.

And then a second explosion happened.

+++

There was a punching feeling in your head. Worst than a thousand migraines. And the unceasing beeping was driving you insane. The darkness took everything out of you. Until you opened your eyes to bright lights and some familiar faces.

“Oh God, you’re back.” Josh smiled.

“Back from where?” You looked around. Maddie and Josh were watching you carefully. “What happened?”

“They pulled you out of a burning building. You were knocked out because of an adjacent explosion, which that’s why you may feel confused. Luckily you didn’t get much damage from the flames,” Maddie explained. “I’m gonna find the doctor.”

“What time is it? Can I go home?”

“You were knocked out for half a day. You’re probably staying here for another one,” Josh broke the news.

“Great,” your words were pure irony. “Please tell me no one died.”

“A few injuries here and there, no deaths. You made the right call to pull the fire alarms and evacuate the building.”

“Awesome. Can I do it again?”

Before Josh could give you an answer, Maddie came back with the doctor just behind her.

The bald doctor explained everything your friends told you. You breathed too much smoke from the fire, but your lungs would be better in no time. They were more concerned about your concussion, since you were out for 17 hours. They wanted to watch you overnight, run a few more exams, and probably release you in the morning.

“Ok, now you both can go home,” you motioned for them to leave.

“You sure?” 

“I’m awake, I have my phone, they’re gonna start taking me to places. Worst case scenario, I call 9-1-1, which means you. Go home, go to work, I’ll update you later.”

They both said their goodbyes and promised to check in via messages for the next few hours. You just smiled, not noticing you now had work parents to deal with. Maddie was already overprotective of you since your little burnout episode, and now Josh would probably keep a close eye on you. But that was a problem for later.

Unfortunately, you were well acquainted with hospital routines — because of rescue and follow up protocols. They took your blood, got another scan of your brain and body, helped you take a shower and brought you dinner. Boring hospital food. Maybe a burning building wasn’t that bad when compared to hospitals.

“First rodeo?” Buck showed up at your door, taking your mind away from the boring food. 

“Nop,” you dropped the spoon. “Delivering a patient?”

“Just finished my shift,” he closed the door and sat on the chair beside your bed. He was still wearing the black uniform, and the curls were unruled. “How are you feeling?”

“For real? Shitty as fuck. I’m probably getting a medical leave from work because of two broken ribs and I have no clue what my professors are going to propose to adapt my schedule. Again. Feels like I’m walking on a tightrope right now.”

“If I didn’t know you, I’d say you started that fire.”

“Of course, Buck. So, what happened?”

“You were knocked off when I entered the lab. Eddie and I had to carry you down the ladder. You were pretty beaten up.”

“I mean what caused the explosion.”

“Oh, our first assessment indicates a gas leak, but we are waiting on the investigation.”

“Maybe I should join LAFD after all.”

“Hell no!” he almost screamed. “Sorry. You saved a few people, but no more playing the hero, ok?”

“Can I get a gold star for that?”

“No. Sorry, Brains, but you don’t get a reward for being reckless.”

“Why can you be bucking around all the time, and I get a lecture?”

“Because it’s you. You’re… I can’t let you do that.” In his voice, there were a few other things he left out, but you were too tired and hungry to dig deeper on that.

“You know I’m not serious, right? I could never do what you guys do on the daily.”

“Great,” he sounded relieved. “Do you want something else for dinner? I know a few people here.”

“Fries and a milkshake, please.”

“Strawberry, right?”

“Yup.”

“Done. I’m gonna get a change of clothes in my car and I’ll be back with your meal, ma’am.”

“Are you my babysitter for the night?”

“And your ride in the morning.”

“You should bill the Government for these extra hours.”

“That’s ok. I know you’d do the same for any of us.” He stood up and turned his back to you, walking for the door.

Before he could walk out of your room, you said, “thank you, Buck.”

While Buck was away, you asked the nurse to take your dinner away and grab your backpack. You reached for your phone, going through all the messages and missed calls. Word got out on the street that you tried to play the hero and your friends and family poured messages into your inbox.

Your parents were worried and said they could go and help you in an instant — you dismissed them, saying you already had people looking over you in LA. A bunch of your classmates and coworkers wished you a speedy recovery and were just a message away. You were afraid to open the messages from the 118 because they were probably saying you were insane, but also should get better soon.

Buck came back, wearing a fresh set of clothes, and took the greasy paper bag from inside his bag. “Had to improvise since my contact isn’t working today,” he handed you your milkshake and the fries, “Bon appetit, Brains.”

“Merci, Buck.”

“Wait, you speak French?” he sat down on the chair, pulling his feet up on the side of your bed.

“No, I just happen to know a few words.” You took your first sip of the milkshake and smiled. “Oh, oh. You’re my savior, Evan Buckley.”

He smiled and stopped for a moment, on the verge of saying anything. But the room felt in silence, only the chewing and take out containers making a sound. You watched Buck: he was too immersed in his burger to notice you watching him.

Maddie and May’s words during girls night were definitely haunting you. Your date with Stephen wasn’t good as you expected, and talking to Buck right after it really did mess up your feelings. Were you really looking for a substitute for Buck? Were you afraid to ruin everything? Should you trust Maddie's words about her brother’s feelings and just go for it?

The fries and milkshake were gone before you could elaborate how you were gonna start that conversation.

“What? They gave you a room with no television?” Buck complained once he took care of the trash.

“Maybe they didn’t expect me to wake up,” you said, and he looked at you discontentedly. “My laptop is in my backpack, we could watch something.”

“Ok, let’s just,” he took the laptop from your bag, you moved to the side, leaving some space in the bed for it and you gave him your password. “Anything you wanna watch?”

“Nah, just pick something, I’m starting to feel tired.”

“Yeah, you should definitely rest. I’m gonna keep the volume on low.” He picked a rerun of a basketball game he missed a few days ago. “You sure you don’t need anything else?”

“I am, Buck. Thanks.”

You moved your body around until you found a good sleeping position, still able to check what was going on in the game and to feel comfortable even though you had two broken ribs and was prohibited from sleeping on your side. But your eyes were too heavy, your mind was too much, and you ended up falling asleep.

+++

Athena and Bobby decided it was wiser to visit you in the morning. They weren’t surprised to see you were still sleeping — you had been through a lot in the last 24 hours and it was only fair for you to rest. Bobby was already taking a step back when Athena held his hand and pointed to the room.

“Look over there, love,” she said, and their eyes went straight to your hand.

Buck had his back to the door, unaware of what was going on outside of the room. All he could think was you and how he almost freaked out when he saw you, unconscious on the floor.

Bobby and Athena couldn’t stop themselves to get closer to the door and take in a few more details.

“God, I was so worried when they said a dispatcher was in the building. You have no idea, Brains.” He kept rubbing his thumb over your hand. “For a second, I thought I’ve lost you. I promise once you’re out of here, I’m coming clean.” His shoulders shook like a shy laugh.

Buck turned around and saw Bobby and Athena standing there, just watching. He recomposed himself quickly and met them outside the room. Athena gave him a reassuring squeeze on the shoulder, and Bobby couldn’t hide his smile.

“How’s she doing, Buck?” Athena asked.

“Oh, she’s ok. Probably gonna get cleared once the doctor retakes a few tests, but yeah, she’s fine.” He looked over his shoulder. “She is finally resting a bit after dozens of nightmares.”

The captain said, “You should take care of her for the next few days. I’ll get Ravi to cover your shifts, don’t worry.”

“Bobby, I-”

“She’s gonna need some help, Buck.” He explained. “Let me know if you’re gonna need some help with her, because we all know how stubborn she is.”

“Will do. I’d tell you to go in and see her, but she fell asleep maybe an hour ago.”

“That’s ok. Text us when she’s home, ok?” Athena smiled.

“Yeah, yeah, of course.”

They said their goodbyes and left. Buck looked at you, sleeping peacefully. Not in danger, not in tears, so close yet so far apart from him.

a/n: the only thing burning now is THEM. jk, i was burnt out. but i'm back. watch me finally bring our favourite idiots in love closer and closer! also huge shout out to @munsonsreputation and @live-love-be-unique for never letting me give upon this idea. love you girliesss! hope everyone's doing well, and i see you soon, ok? love, effie