#anyway i hope you enjoy <3 sorry about the long wait!!

[fandomscombine]

Sorry, Bossman

Aaron Hotchner x BAU!Reader

BG: When a Sunday morning in with your secret boyfriend turned into a sudden work meeting. Will the early morning grogginess cause a slip up? Especially since the except profilers have noticed your recent lateness?

A/N: Wanted to be secretive on who the reader’s pairing would be but I has to properly tag the fic - so just pretend you didn’t know the reader’s S.O. is Aaron Hotchner in the first few paragraphs okay? Lol

Anyway, it’s my second ever Aaron Hotchner fic. Still coming around to perfection his tone and essence.I hope you enjoy this sweet fluffy fic!

WC: 1034

>>>GENERAL MASTERLIST<<<

>>>CRIMINAL MINDS MASTERLIST<<<

It’s Sunday morning and you can feel the rays of sunshine seeping through your bedroom curtain. The team has just gotten back from a week-long grueling case Friday night and you’ve missed the feeling of being in your own bed. Saturday was spent lounging around being a homebody as your mind and body recharges - your plans for today? To linger in this bliss and let the real world slip away.

You roll over, back now towards your window. With eyes still closed, you lazily extend your arm until you find a warm presence. A soft chuckle fills the room as you snuggle closer to your partner. “Hmm morning, sweetheart.”

“Morning, my love” You reply. Voice muffled as you place a kiss on his chest. Your head finds solace as a steady heartbeat enters your ear. Wanting nothing more, than to stay in this moment longer. 

But in true universe fashion, it decides that a one day break is more than enough. 

The bed dips and you feel a cold breeze brush through your body as the blanket is moved. You keep your eyes closed, silently pleading this is just a part of a dream and that when you wake up you get to have Sunday home.

“Yes, I’ll have my team notified and in the office within the hour.” 

The words flow muffled into your ears - the pillow doing little to discard the reality of it all. 

A hand comes up your arm, he knows you’re not a morning person but work can’t wait. “Come on sweetheart, we’ve got a case”

You groan, there’s no way you can say no to him - especially when you’re in the receiving end of his soft eyes.  But that doesn’t mean you can tease him to get a few more moments in bed. “Sorry, bossman hasn’t called me yet.” 

He gives you his signature pointed stare and gives into your play. Your ringtone fills the room, the caller ID “Agent Hotchner” illuminates the screen officially calling you in for the case.

“Alright, alright.” Accepting surrender as you mute your phone. 

“Thanks.” Aaron reaches out his hand to help you off the bed. “What do you want for breakfast?”

“Something quick, a sandwich maybe? I still have to get home and repack my go bag.”

Aaron stares a bit confused.

“Cause we went straight here after the case? And I’ve been wearing your clothes” Gesturing to what you currently have on - Aaron’s beloved brown half zip sweater and his boxers. “Not that I’m complaining or anything.” There’s just something completely domestic about wearing Aaron’s clothes. Not worrying about looking perfect and being wrapped in Aaron’s home life. You can’t help but smile at the normality of it all.

“Right, it got me thinking” Aaron steps closer, grabbing your waist. “Maybe we should get you a drawer, you know since you practically live here half the time.”

He is about a head taller than you, so you wrap your arms around his neck as stability. Biting your lips to stop your heart from racing and the premature grin that’s threatening to take over, you ask. “Aaron Hotchner, are you saying that you wanna take this to the next level?” You ask, 

“Yes I do.” He says with all gentle seriousness. This close, you can clearly see his dilated pupils under the dim lights.

“Then that sounds like a plan.” Pulling him closer, relaying all the joy and love that’s oozing out of your heart into a searing kiss.

~

“Sorry I’m late.” You announce to the room. It’s current 8:23am and the team is already 3 pages into the case debrief. 

“Take your seat agent.” Hotch replies, not looking at you as he focuses on turning the next slide. To most, Hotch’s reaction is normal that of a boss’ slight annoyance at his employee’s tardiness. 

But you ofcourse know his tell, an involuntary, subconscious sign that indidicates their hiding something. Which in this case, if Aaron scratching the back of his neck - an act you’ve became familiar with ever since you started dating. It was Aaron’s way of hiding his blush, though you have assured him that he looks absolutely adorable when he reddens. 

There’s just this power of his dimples that takes a hold on you and leaves you mesmorised. 

“Yes, sir.”  You settle as quickly as you can right next to Morgan. He hands you a spare set of case files when something catches his eye.

“Who’s the lucky guy?” Morgan asks, the shift in tone notable.

“Lucky guy?” Furrowing your brow. Derek Morgan is known to be a tease and you often join in on the fun - although you’re not liking it when the spotlight is on you.

“Yea..” Joins in Emily - this is the type of tea that would get her energy up this early in the morning. “You aren’t normally late but these past couple of cases you are~” 

“What?” With the team slowing teaming up against you couple with the morning brain fog - your defensiveness is apparent.

“Reid, back me up!”

“Just from this past month alone, y/n has been late 3 times.” Chimed in the young doctor. “Most notably after our long cases or on Mondays.”  

The audacity of Reid smiling after stating the fact nonchalantly. You picture your glare burning holes through the smart brain of his. However, before you can succeed in doing so, Derek drops the fatal shots.

“And next time don’t forget the badly covered hickeys at the under your ear.”

You’re dumbfounded, instantly grabbing your phone and checking your ear with the selfie camera. Lo and behold the unmistakable purple mark just below your ear lobe. Wincing slightly as your finger touches the tender spot.

Eyeing the team before landing on Aaron. Arching a brow as if to say ‘Why did you have to bite so hard?’

“Wait, Hotch? No way!” Morgan exclaimed, head moving left and right as he connects the dots. 

The silence that follows is death-defying, never have you seen a room full of expert profilers stuned and frozen in place.

You’re caught. Sorry, Bossman

It’s Aaron who breaks the spell. “Looks like the secret is out, sweetheart.” He says, sporting an uncharacteristic smirk.

[gingerteaonthetardis]

autumnal writing prompt:

fallen leaves but it has to take place inside the TARDIS. any doctor + companion and/or pairing

hiiiii thank you for your prompt and for your patience <3 tbh, i loved this concept and i spent a fair bit of time on the execution, trying to get the vibe close to what i was seeing in my head. not sure if i succeeded. but i hope you enjoy it anyway!

i went with the tenth doctor for this one, set post-runaway bride, reflecting on the loss of rose.

to read on ao3, click here!

-

When the time came, he let the TARDIS guide him there.

He never knew where it had been or would be. He never knew what it would be like either. That was part of the Solarium's charm: it was a place which could only be found when it wasn't sought. Its unpredictability made it what it was.

And it had been a night for unpredictability. But he'd delivered the bride safely home. Snow still sugared the shoulders of his suit when the halls began changing.

"I'm not ready," he felt himself say. The words echoed hollowly ahead of him, down funny sharp turns and looping passages. He was raw and exposed and though he was very alone, he didn't feel alone—he felt stifled by memories, ghosts crowding the edges of his vision.

He needed time. He needed more of it, reams of it, an endless fountain of it. He needed all the time there was, and more—because that's what it would take.

But he followed the lights anyway. What else could he do?

Down corridors and stairwells, he let the ship lead him. Up a spiral staircase. Behind a false wall. The TARDIS was rarely consistent, but she was kind: she let him take the long way 'round.

When the arched doorway finally presented itself, the weak light was already filtering out through the cracks. Dry, brown leaves skittered and hushed as he put his palm to the creaky wooden door and pushed.

Autumn.

Inside the Solarium, it was autumn.

Outside, too. The atmosphere beyond the high, domed glass and iron lattice work appeared blue—a pale, eggshell blue, verging on grey. Clouds melded seamlessly with sky. The chill of it was almost a visible thing.

Within the Solarium, everything was in its proper place: the sundial, made now of stone, though in the past it had been many things—wood, then ceramic, then glass, then gleaming quartz; the pond where nothing lived and nothing grew, but the water itself danced. The ivy still crept perpetually up the lattices.

And in the center of the room, the tree still stood.

The tree in the Solarium belonged to no particular genus, had no particular name, though he'd searched the TARDIS library to find one. The bark of its massive trunk was smooth and unobtrusive, marred only by the occasional scar of some long distant, unknown trauma. It never fruited, though he'd seen it in every season. Its leaves often changed shape or grew irregularly, patchy and strange.

And at present, it was an explosion of colour.

The Doctor said nothing.

Gold, gold. So many golden leaves hung from those broad branches. Shades varied from the palest sunrise to a hue so rich and dark as to be nearly orange. In some spots, clusters of browning, dead leaves hung, poised to fall.

His eyes avoided those patches, drawn instead to where the vibrant colour was thickest. It was the gold of hair, of puddled sunlight, of a young sun. In spite of himself, he began crossing the tiled floor.

The loose laces of his plimsolls disturbed the occasional fallen leaf, a crackling announcement of his presence. But he still approached slow, like he would meet a wild animal. He stepped cautiously over where thick roots had broken through the floor.

It was only when his hand began to lift, fingers extended, that he paused.

"I'm not ready," he whispered, scarcely a moment before a vibrant daisy-heart-yellow leaf broke free and fell—right into his waiting hand.

     "I'll never get used to this. Never. Different ground beneath my feet," and she's jumping, bouncing on her heels, and she's smiling, and it’s lovely, "different sky… What's that smell?"

     "Apple grass," he tells her, eager to share everything he knows.

     "Apple grass… It's beautiful. Oh, I love this. Can I just say, travelling with you, I love—"

"No."

The Doctor's hand spasmed, and the leaf fell, taking with it the scent of a different world. Apple grass. Such a crisp, fresh smell. He could never smell it again without thinking of her.

His throat felt tight. He wasn't ready.

Yet how many times had he stood just like this and let the memories wash over him?

Often they were green—hopeful springtimes of gentle past, a balm when he needed it most. Reminders of the goodness which existed in pockets of the universe, waiting to be discovered.

Sometimes, they came frost-fanged and bitter, serrated edges cutting him to the bone. Regret was grey. Steel grey.

All his companions had bloomed and withered here, on these unreal branches.

But this—the season the tree offered him was too cool and serene for what he felt. This… gentle giving-way. There was a storm inside him.

She had not passed gracefully into another season; she had been torn from his world, and her world, and the TARDIS, and him. How could that be beautiful?

How could that be golden?

He moved in a rush, grasping suddenly at the nearest withered clutch of leaves. He was only just tall enough to reach, and when he closed his fist, he came away with—

     Pleading. "Help her."

     But he isn't moved. "Everything has its time," he says, "and everything dies."

—and,

     "No." Sarah Jane stands firm. Sure in herself. "The universe has to move forward. Pain and loss, they define us as much as happiness or love. Whether it's a world, or a relationship," and the guilt cuts him open as he thinks of her, the leaves on her tree; then he thinks of Rose. "Everything has its time—"

—and,

     "Why don't you ever just say what you mean?"

     "Rose—"

     "It's always talking with you, but you never…" She shakes her head, hair catching the light of the console. He wants to hold her so badly he can barely speak. "Just tell me this, Doctor: you and me, is it ever gonna change? Will we ever…?" She drifts off, uncertain.

     "Everything changes." It's not really an answer, but it's the best he can do. "I promise."

—and in a blink, his fist closed. The brittle memories crushed to dust in his hand.

They were still there, of course: in him, in the TARDIS herself, and they always would be. They would grow anew, changing shape over time. Even at the topmost parts of the tree, people who were long gone lived forever: his granddaughter, with her untameable smile; an old historian who loved cocoa and cake and driving him spare; a young boy who was so brave, and so clever, and so very foolish; an Edwardian adventuress who followed him into madness.

The companions of his many lives.

They crowded their way up into the highest branches. One day, Rose would live among them, a golden crown to this ancient tree.

But even that knowledge held no comfort.

"No more," he said, "please."

Around him, the room gave a faint, irritated huff—like a creaky groan and a hum at once. And from somewhere else, a wind stirred. Focused and strong. Pay attention, it seemed to say, or else did say, in its own language.

A leaf the colour of liquid gold wriggled and broke loose, and he knew better than to run from it. All he could manage was to stand his ground as it smacked, with unusual force, into his chest.

The image burst over him.

     "Anything else?"

     "Why don't you ask her yourself?"

     He sees where the woman—the bride—is looking. Over his shoulder. His gaze follows her, and he feels all the air leave his lungs. There is an infinite space between one heartsbeat and the next. But it’s real. It’s really her. No hologram or vision or ghost. No memory.

     In the darkness, a light. Blonde hair glinting, her eyes holding his. And then he's running. Running flat out.

     She's all he can see.

     The feeling inside him is like nothing else. Like being reborn.

     Her smile crosses the distance, gilded and lovely, meeting him before his arms can reach her. But even before his touch lands, he knows he’s already home.

The Doctor blinked. A hand rose to wipe down his own face, smearing the tears he hadn't felt fall. His from another time.

His feet stumbled forward, and he caught himself against the tree's giant trunk.

"Not a memory," he whispered to the silence, in all its enormity, its electric potential. "Not yet."

Prescience, passed down to him by the brush of a leaf. This had never happened before.

But then, there had never been anybody like Rose before, had there? She'd left her mark on the TARDIS, on the vortex itself, every bit as much as she'd left her mark on him.

The pads of his fingers felt out a scar in the wood. One he hadn't seen before. It had an odd shape to it, an asymmetry that reminded him a little of an animal in profile: a jagged protrusion, and the swell of a haunch.

Something with its nose to the sky.

He traced it twice before he understood. The muzzle. The howling. His chest felt weightless, for a moment. Uncompressed by longing and grief, his hearts beat freely.

The Doctor, with his hand to the wolf, wheezed out a shocked laugh as he suddenly remembered that these leaves were also the colour of flame. Of timeless, endless burning, searing and rewriting.

     "I bring life."

From its bark and its branches, from its roots and its high crown, the tree seemed to shiver out a very long sigh as he finally grasped its message. Everything has its time, it breathed. Its hope was golden.

The shades of it all swirled together and tangle, an infinite vortex, laden and dripping with life still to come, and it was beautiful.

The Doctor smiled, removed his hand, and turned from the tree.

Her time—and his—and theirs—was not yet over.

There was more to be done. And he was ready.

[burningcomputerpersona]

saw your description, I LOVEEE the ocean grew hands to hold me but don’t know any other songs by them, what else should i listen to?

OHOHOHOHOOH THANK YOU FOR SENDING ME THIS ASK YOU HAVE COME TO THE RIGHT PERSON FOR THIS

the ocean grew hands to hold me is an INCREDIBLE song and you have immaculate taste my friend

now when it comes to the wonder years this is a band where i always recommend ppl listen to the entire albums bc the songs actually lean on each other and support each other to create a cohesive record. but also i understand that this is not always easy so here are some songs to get you started depending on different things you might have liked about this song

now i've heard ppl describe The Ocean Grew Hands To Hold Me as a worship song for the ocean which is a perfect descriptor imo and if you're looking for a song with a similar sound/ vibe the first song that comes to mind for me is Cigarettes & Saints (and if you really like this song i recommend giving the album No Closer To Heaven a listen bc it is a masterpiece)

another staple of the band that also starts off relatively quiet and builds up to an incredible climax and includes a reference that shows up all throughout their future songs that i really recommend is The Devil In My Bloodstream

but if you're looking for a song from the same record as The Ocean Grew Hands To Hold Me that also starts off relatively chill and builds up at the end and has similar themes & sounds, i recommend We Look Like Lightning

and if you really enjoyed the themes about death and grief and connecting with people then I recommend the entire Sister Cities album starting with Raining In Kyoto

alternatively if you're getting tired of all the death and grief and want something a bit more positive that also starts off relatively chill and builds up to a climax, then I really recommend the extended cut of Summer Clothes (not only because i found out about it only a few days but also bc it sounds great and the ending has been stuck in my head for days now)

and finally if you're looking for an actual introduction to the band then I have to recommend You're The Reason I Want The World To End. it's the last song on their latest record and also the perfect representation of who they are as a band (and also the song that Dan has said he's proudest to have written)

And if that song made you cry i recommend giving the whole album a listen starting from Doors I Painted Shut bc if you thought you were crying before you're gonna be sobbing through it after giving the entire record a listen (and also please feel free to ask me more abt this record bc it is my absolute favorite and i could never run out of things to say about it)

and this doesn't even include stuff from their earlier albums which i apologize for but we're at 7 songs already which i figured was enough for one post. anyway i hope this wasn't too overwhelming and i wish you the best on your music journey!!

[yeahxsurexokay13]

wrong guy, lando norris

summary: fans think yn is dating max, but they've got the wrong guy [bsf!reader]

been a min since i posted! honestly, these just take me way too long and i usually end up abandoning them because i start hating them halfway through from overthinking lol. hope you enjoy this one though (: xx

y/n.y/l 📍 Ibiza, Spain

Liked by riabish, carlossainz55 and 159.870 others

y/n.y/l we only argued 3 times, cried 2, and got lost 1 (personal record)

view all 579 comments

user9 right so who argued? who cried? and most importantly whO IS THE SHADOW?

user14 can we talk about how u're LITERALLY glowing in that first pic? u look so happy, girl!!

user20 the vibes on this dump… rich people's holidays just hit different.

iamrebeccad ✓ Beautiful girl 😍

y/n.y/l 🫶🏼 miss youu!!

user4 “cried 2 times” is actually impressive ♥︎ by author

user55 lando and max just casually being brothers in the fourth pic 😩❤️

user81 that shot is just *chef’s kiss*!!!! Glad we can always count on this queen for hq content

user63 Okay so I’ve been staring at this shadow pic for like 10 minutes, and I can’t figure it out…

user33 my money’s on max bc that hug pic of them earlier too… feels very coupley.

user63 idk friends to lovers agenda thriving tho

user3 Max and Lando with the face masks are killing me 😂 ♥︎ by author

user6 max or lando? place your bets now. i’m team max but i’ll die on this hill if i'm wrong

user2 which you are, because it’s definitely Lando

user8 guys they’ve literally known each other since forever and go on these friends holidays all the time lmao this is just FRIENDSHIP GOALS. stop romanticising everything!!!

user24 then explain the head kiss?

user8 friendly head kisses???

user24 friendly kisses?? in this economy? be serious. that’s couple behaviour

user12 smells like a third wheel in here…

y/n.y/l sorry, that's just me. i am the third wheel🙋🏼‍♀️

user13 she really said 'stop shipping me with my best friends' lol

user44 max and lando with the face masks in the water might be my new favourite photo of all time

user16 ngl that's not bad statistics for a week long trip ♥︎ by author

user11 If it’s Max, I’ll cry. If it’s Lando, I’ll cry harder. If it’s neither, I don’t know what I’ll do.

user18 i’ve been following these three for years and i’m still trying to figure out if that last slide is supposed to be romantic or not….? HELP I AM SO CONFUSED

user22 what book is that? i need recommendations!!

y/n.y/l just for the summer!!! LOVED it x

user10 i can’t believe she was so chill about posting thAT LAST PIC!??!! miss y/l!!! SPILL NOW

maxfewtrell ✓ Why are you saying 'we'? Pretty sure you were the one who did all of those

landonorris ✓ classic move, shifting the blame

y/n.y/l @/landonorris @/maxfewtrell the getting lost part was definitely a team effort

user1 I need to go on a trip with friends like this ♥︎ by author

user5 being that close to lando AND max and surviving the friendship without catching feelings was too good to be true let's be honest

pietra.pilao 😍😍

y/n.y/l 💞💞

user7 so when’s the next ‘friends holiday'? asking for a friend (me)

15 August 2024

maxfewtrell ✓

Liked by landonorris, y/n.y/l and 98.982 others

maxfewtrell The real girlfriend reveal, for the record 🫡

👤 pietra.pilao

view all 398 comments

user1 WAIT WHAT

user6 so it really wasn’t Y/n??

pietra.pilao ❤️❤️ ♥︎ by author

user4 omg she's the girl who commented on yn's holiday dump!!!

user3 We owe Max and his gf an apology 😭 She’s stunning, btw

user2 omg u two are so cuteeeeeeee! happy for u max :)

user5 your gf is so pretty 😭😭😭

y/n.y/l P!!!! 💕💕

y/n.y/l you two make a better couple than you and I ever would anyway 😂 ♥︎ by author

user9 WHY DIDN’T YOU SAY THIS EARLIER?! we’ve been spiralling for WEEKS

user12 actually he's been saying it from the beginning. we just didn't want to listen 😂😂

user8 max: “here’s my gf. leave me out of y/n’s business”

user12 OK but pietra is STUNNING!! Max, you’ve been hiding her for how long?!

user7 the way he had to clarify this because of us is actually hilarious. sorry, Max.

user11 OMG I feel so dumb now we really had y/n in a whole relationship she wasn’t even in 😭

29 August 2024

y/n.y/l

Liked by oscarpiastri, sophiaaemelia and 289.034 others

y/n.y/l outtakes from ai·bee·thuh

view all 930 comments

user1 AAAAAAAAHHHHH!!!!!?? MYSTERY SOLVED IG

user12 I THINK THIS MIGHT BE THE GREATEST THING TO HAPPEN TO MY FEED THIS YEAR I AM NOT EVEN JOKING

maxfewtrell ✓ So Lando gets the cute video and I get the passed out in the car pic? Playing favourites, I see. Noted.

user8 Max calling out Y/n for favoritism is peak sibling energy

user33 i can't believe we were full on shipping them not even a week ago omg

maxfewtrell ✓ Also, can everyone stop tagging me in that shadow pic now? Like, I’m good, it’s definitely not me 😅 ♥︎ by author

user11 pietra honestly deserves a medal for surviving this holiday with these three omg

user17 GUYS I WAS ALREADY PRETTY SHOCKED AT LANDO'S VIDEO BLOWING A KISS I HAD NO IDEA WHAT I HAD COMING

pietra.pilao Special week 🤍 ♥︎ by author

user81 the lift photo with the McDonald’s bag is so relatable. even on a fancy holiday, you gotta have your nuggets ♥︎ by author

user25 turns out Max wasn't lying when he said y/n wasn’t his headache... lando’s the lucky one 😂

user10 and y/n and pietra? they do ✨besties ✨ better than anyone ♥︎ by author

user19 can we get a ‘whoops, my bad’ from the ppl who saw them in Ibiza and STILL missed the fact that Pietra was there?

user2 they literally had a front row seat to the full gossip and still didn’t catch on !!!!! like hELLO? u had one job

user14 THE SOFT LAUNCH TURNED INTO A HARD LAUNCH REAL QUICK I AM SHOOK

alexandrasaintmleux ✓ Ahhh loveeee 🩷🩷 ♥︎ by author

user26 both boys punching above their weight fr. i said what i said.

francisca.cgomes ✓ ❤️❤️😍 ♥︎ by author

user16 The way Max is sleeping in that last pic has me wheezing ♥︎ by author

user3 lando is literally holding y/n like he’s never letting her go boy is WHIPPED

user29 WE'RE GOING TO SEE "LANDO NORRIS' PARTNER" UNDER YN'S NAME NOW WHEN SHE WATCHES FROM THE GARAGE what a time to be alive

user7 not the way y/n is casually posting a McDonald’s bag in a robe and THEN dropping the most beautiful couple pic with lando

user5 waIT SO THE BOY KISSING HER HEAD IN THE SHADOW PIC WAS LANDO??? WE WERE ALL WRONG. I NEED TO LIE DOWN.

maxfewtrell you know, it truly baffles me how this was barely even considered

y/n.y/l no one believed in me enough to be able to pull f1 race winner lando norris. humbling.

user20 YN I - 😭😭😭😭💀💀

user38 it was a couple’s holiday the whole time 😭😭 I need a moment to recover

user9 this fandom’s clownery knows no bounds istg.........

user21 not me crying over the hard launch of the year when I was just admiring Max’s sleeping face 5 seconds ago

user24 Ibiza really gave us everything: friendship goals, couple goals, and max in a food coma

user18 IT WAS LANDO KISSING HER HEAD. I feel so betrayed by my own theories and also pretty disappointed in myself i couldn't tell it was his shadow

landonorris ✓ I see you saved the best for last 🖤

y/n.y/l ☺️☺️

y/n.y/l omg guys i wasn’t being dry i just don’t know what else to say with all you watching 😭😭

1 September 2024

[kingkat12]

pornography (eric draven x reader)

WARNINGS: 18+, foul language, groping/fondling, dry-humping lol, mentions of substance abuse

summary: when you finally talk to Eric Draven in rehab, it doesn't take long before you get drawn together by a force stronger than anything you have ever encountered. it doesn’t help the situation that you eventually find out Eric has been drawing pictures of you… nude

word count: 2,337 PART 1, PART 2, PART 3

a/n: this is for all the girlies like me that just came home from watching The Crow and got their mind blown by how hot Bill was in it... holy fuck. had to write this blurb because I am so shaken up, I can't feel my face. enjoy!! there will be more parts hihi...

"I fucking hate pink," 

I couldn't believe that was the first thing I said to him-- the dark and broody stranger I had been eyeing through my first few weeks in rehab. He stared back at me, confusion swimming in his big green eyes, probably pondering why I had sat down next to him in the cafeteria. "Pardon?"

"It's a little ridiculous," I tried, watching as he put down his cutlery, pushing his food away as he gave me his full attention. Tugging at my pink sweater, which we were all wearing, I let out a nervous chuckle. "Whose idea was it to put a lot of addicts in pink, anyway?"

My eyes darted down to his hands as I waited for his answer-- they were huge up close, and completely covered in tattoos. I hadn't noticed them from afar; I had only noticed the ones peeking through the top of his shirt when he would pass me by in the hall, or the big eye he had on his chest that I had seen while passing by his room. I knew it wasn't nice to peek into his room while he was changing, but I was quite frankly starved of any male contact-- any girl would go crazy in here. 

He eventually shrugged, giving me the answer I least expected; "I guess pink is supposed to be a calming colour. It's not that bad," I watched as the corners of his mouth tugged upwards, giving away hints of amusement. "Aren't you girls supposed to like pink?"

"Maybe," I mumbled, nudging food around on my plate with my fork. "I just don't like to wear it. It doesn't suit me."

The handsome stranger didn't seem to agree, another shrug following accompanied by a shy laugh. "I can't figure out whether you're being sincere or searching for compliments,"

This was most definitely not how I wanted to come off. I straightened up, resting my elbows against the table as I cleared my throat. "I'm just trying to make conversation,"

"... Why?"

"Because you've been staring at me almost as much as I've been staring at you," I put down my fork, hoping he didn't see how nervous I was. In truth, he had been staring-- it wasn't all purely one-sided. I had caught him staring at me in the courtyard, on my way to the shower, and I had also caught him lingering outside my room several times. He would usually leave when I came out, disappearing down the hall with speed I wouldn't even dream to catch up with. 

He finally gave in to a smirk, nodding to himself as he lowered his head. "Sorry," It was clear that he hadn't thought he'd be called out like this. However, something told me he wasn't too upset about being caught either. 

"Don't be," I said, feeling my anxiety ripping through my veins. Why was I indulging? "I just--"

It was at this moment that a guard appeared behind him, yanking him away from the table with a harshness that made me gasp. I clasped my hand over my mouth, watching as he barely reacted to the brutality. 

"Guys and girls eat separately!" the guard yelled at me, slamming his fist down on the table. 

My eyes widened, looking back at the handsome stranger. "But I-- I was the one who sat down here, he didn't do anything!" I protested, watching as the guard grabbed him and led him away. Groaning, I ran my hands through my hair, frustrated with the rules at this place. Why was it so fucking strict?

I eventually looked up just in time to see that the man had managed to turn around, smirking my way; "I'm Eric!" he said, holding back a laugh as he was shoved along the cafeteria for everyone to see.

Despite the horror washing over me for getting him in trouble, I managed to croak out my name as well. It seemed that he appreciated that I had at least tried to stick up for him-- What was it that I had just started?

My question would be answered a lot quicker than I had expected. 

A few days passed, and more looks and stares were exchanged. I was dying to talk to Eric again. I knew I hadn't been sent to rehab to make friends or get feelings for someone, but something was gnawing at me to talk to him again. I wanted to be around him constantly; what was happening to me? I recognized this feeling-- it was the same feeling I got when I really, really craved something... Fuck, how I missed drugs. Maybe Eric was turning into a substitute?

It wasn't often that the door to Eric's room was open, but today it was. I wouldn't have noticed it if I hadn't taken the extra lap around the institute as usual, hoping to get a glimpse of him through the small window in his door. But today, I didn't have to get on my tippytoes to get a look-- there he was, picking up several drawings that had been scattered around the floor. His room looked like a mess, completely unlike how I was used to seeing it through the tiny window. This looked like the result of one of those raids that the prison guards sometimes did when they suspected there were hidden drugs in a patient's room. 

I felt sorry for him; I knew how horrible it could feel to have someone rip through all your stuff. But as I bent down and picked up a few drawings that were at my feet, my lips parted in surprise.

It seemed I wasn't the only one caught off guard; Eric noticed me standing in his doorway, letting out a relieved sigh as he watched me inspect his drawings. He called out my name, leaning against the wall as he sized me up and scanned me, crossing his arms over his chest. 

I cleared my throat; "Is this... me?" I held up the first drawing of the bunch. It was a sketch of me sitting in the courtyard, and I was sure that it was me-- I suppose it was my shock asking for confirmation. 

Eric snickered, kicking off the wall. "Yeah... Sorry,"

"Stop saying sorry," I shuffled through the drawings, finding he had drawn me in multiple settings, and it was clear that I had been watched the few weeks I'd been here. "These are beautiful, Eric... I guess I'm honoured--" My words trailed off as I finally approached the last drawing. Was that...?

He didn't even try to take it away from me. Eric sighed, looking away as his cheeks flushed a light pink, similar to our uniforms. 

Judging by his reaction, I had a feeling he wasn't so against me seeing this. It was a sketch of me, after all-- nude. 

I had to swallow rather hard for anything to go down. I couldn't pinpoint why I wasn't absolutely horrified at this.  "So... this is what you've been up to in here, huh?" There was no stopping the smirk that spread across my lips, holding back a flustered giggle. "This is next-level pervy, do you know that?"

It didn't take long before Eric's big hands ripped the drawings out of my hands, turning away as he shook his head. "Every artist needs a muse, no?"

"A muse? How can I be your muse if we don't know each other?"

"That's not how it works," he mumbled, throwing away the drawings into a heap on the bed. "Your beauty is all I need to get inspired."

This was enough to shock me into silence. I inhaled a sharp breath, stepping into Eric's room despite knowing it was forbidden. "So now you think I'm beautiful?"

Eric hummed, finally turning to meet my eyes. "It hasn't been the biggest secret, has it?" There was something playful about him, shameless, as though it didn't matter to him that I had just found his handmade porn. "It gets a little lonely in here, I guess. These drawings just... run out of me like water. Can't control it."

There was something so unimaginably tantalizing about Eric. Everything about him made me want to jump him then and there-- was it maybe the result of my withdrawals that were turning my brain into further mush? In a normal setting, this would have creeped me out to infinity and beyond, but knowing this was coming from the man I had been lusting after from afar for several weeks made me excuse it in a heartbeat. 

I had no idea what possessed me to close the door to his room and lock it, knowing the repercussions could be severe if we were caught. But Eric didn't seem to mind; his green eyes widened, watching my every move like a hawk.

"It was really pretty and all... The drawing, I mean," I said, inching closer to where he had sat down on the bed. "But would you maybe want some inspiration for the next one?"

Eric's plush, pink lips parted, eyes rounding out in surprise. Despite his shock, his big hands reached out for me as I came closer, and he pulled me in between his legs. I could feel him caressing my back through my shirt, holding me with the utmost gentle touch. "I'll take all I can get," he murmured, looking up at me through his brows, a knowing smirk spreading across his face. 

I let out a giggle as he pressed his lips against my stomach through my shirt, enjoying the intense feeling of someone against my skin again after all this time. Eric pulled away, glancing at the door before slowly trailing his fingers under my shirt, testing the waters. 

It didn't take long before that wasn't enough for him-- my breath hitched as Eric grabbed my waist, pulling me down with him on the bed. I barely had time to think before the euphoric feeling of being kissed engulfed me. Our lips met in an open, soft kiss, almost as though we were scared to break the other if we were too needy or harsh. As I straddled him, I felt his hands tugging at my shirt, dipping back under the fabric once more. His fingers gently ghosted over my lower back, eventually ending up trailing small circles with his thumbs along the underside of my bra. 

If I hadn't been so starved of any human contact in here, I would've never jumped the opportunity like this. But none of us knew how long we had until the guards would bust us, and it only fueled the adrenaline pumping through our veins. Our kisses became desperate, hungry, and I let out a whimper against his lips as he took the liberty of cupping my chest, feeling me up to his heart's delight. I knew I had been waiting for this moment since the first time I saw him, and I wasn't about to let it slip through my fingers-- I decided to let him do whatever he wanted to me, no matter what. 

I could feel Eric's cock twitch beneath me, clearly aroused. It was also at this moment that he made me sit up, tugging my shirt off of me before laying back down to scan me. Was he memorizing my body for his next sketch? It wasn't every night that I had a handsome stranger beneath me like this, so I allowed him to trail his hands up and down my body, lips parting in delight. "Fuck... Yeah, this will do," he murmured, pupils dilating at the sight before him whether he wanted them to or not.

"You sure?" I asked, giggling to myself. My hands rested against his broad chest, letting out a sigh of delight; God, he was sexy. As I shifted in his lap, Eric's breath hitched as I seemingly sat down in the exact right spot. Almost as though he was possessed by instinct for a moment, he grabbed my hips, rocking me against him through the fabric of our clothes. 

Who would've thought I'd be dry-humping this stranger and enjoy it so much? My hands gripped his shirt, a quiet moan spilling past my lips-- I had forgotten this feeling. This was mostly something I did when I was a teenager, before I figured out how to have proper sex with my high school boyfriend. But it felt so damn fucking good, desperate; it didn't take long before I leaned back down, capturing his plush lips in another kiss. 

I craved him like water. I wanted him against me, in me, for him to take me in every possible position ever-- a deep, dark part of me knew I would be insatiable from now on. 

But our moment of ecstasy was interrupted when a guard started banging his fist against the door, his muffled yells barely registering through my arousal. Despite my dazed state, it didn't take me long to drape my shirt back on, climbing off Eric with wobbly knees. "Shit," I mumbled, turning to him with wide eyes. "I'm screwed. We're screwed."

Everything about him was so damn beautiful. The kiss-swollen lips definitely didn't help how gorgeous I thought he looked right now. Despite the situation, knowing we were in deep shit, Eric let out a soft chuckle; "I don't think you're screwed enough, actually. We'll get to that another time," 

My eyes widened as I gave into a light giggle. There was no way this was happening-- had my naughty rehab dreams come true? The guard banging against the door was drowned out by the incessant ringing in my ears that festered through my mind as Eric leaned down to kiss me one last time; "I hope to see you around, if they don't kill us,"

"Yeah," I breathed, only now realizing how tall he was as I looked up to meet his gaze. This man was towering over me. Holy shit. "Can't wait to see your next masterpiece."

I couldn't wait. I really couldn't.

(a/n: PART 2, PART 3 here!! enjoy<33)

[imagines-for-the-fangirls-soul]

But Daddy I Love Him - Jacaerys Velaryon

A/N: Oh hi! First of all, thanks for all the love on my last Jace fic. I'm sorry it's taken so long to post my next, I've had a crazy couple of weeks, but I wanted to make to get something out before this week's episode. I can't believe there's just 3 eps left of the season! I am hoping to get my Jace chapter fic out before then, so I have put most of my focus there. Anyways, I hope you enjoy!!

TS Prompt #8: But Daddy I Love Him

Pairing: Jacaerys Velaryon x Lannister!Reader Word Count: 5.3k Synopsis: Jace and the reader fall in love, much to the displeasure of the reader's father.

Warnings: smut

Jacaerys Velaryon is beautiful.

It is tourney day in King's Landing, and your eyes are stuck to him as he makes his way out into the arena. Around you, there are scattered conversations whispered not low enough, about how the prince has matured in the last year, how handsome he has become.

He has not yet put his helmet on. This leaves his hair out, curls whipping around him in the gentle breeze. He flicks his hair back and there is a chorus of awes around you. You smirk at the reaction.

"The arrogance," your father, Jason Lannister, mutters from your side. You barely spare him a glance, not wanting to remove your eyes from Jacaerys.

"What do you mean?" you ask.

"He's showing off," your father says, disgust in his voice.

"It is a tourney," you say, "Isn't that the point?" He doesn't respond, just continues to monitor the arena space.

Jacaerys mounts his horse and with bated breath, you watch as he accepts the lance from the Master of Revels. His opponent is a knight you haven't met yet, a Ser Estermont. He has done well in the tourney so far, though, which makes you nervous.

As both men prepare to make their joust, you lean forward in your seat, needing to see as closely as possible, what is about to happen.

Unlike the matches before, this one is over in one round. Jacaerys aims his lance to the perfect angle, and expertly knocks over the knight from Greenstone.

Applause erupts from the viewing gallery, and you nearly stand up and cheer, you are so relieved about his win. Jacaerys rides around the stands and stops in front of the gallery you sit in. He lifts off his helmet and smiles in a way that makes your heart race.

"Lady Y/N," he says, and you think you hear discontented sighs from behind you. "Might I request your favor, that I may excel through the rest of this tournament?" You smile and reach for your wreath of flowers. For one moment, your father grips your wrist, as if he means to keep you from going. But it does not last long. No matter what your father may think of Jacaerys, he is still the prince, and future heir to the the throne. To deny him would mean scandal.

As you approach the railing, you try to fight off the grin at seeing him. Jacaerys extends his lance so that you may drop the wreath onto it easily.

"Thank you, My Lady," he says, eyes locked onto yours.

"Good luck, My Prince."

He rides off into the arena, garnering more applause from the stands, as you return to your seat. There are jealous eyes upon you. Even your father looks angry. But you pay them no mind. There will be more rounds, and Jacaerys is sure to succeed time and again, which will have him request the favor of more ladies.

Smiling as you sit down, you think of the girls who will bestow upon him their own wreaths. You might even feel bad for them, for surely, they will assume that his attention means he might court them. But you know that his affections lie only with you.

To you, the prince was just Jace, and you had loved him since you were a girl. Three months ago, he had declared his love for you, too, and ever since, the two of you had been hiding your love, waiting for the right moment to proclaim your intentions.

"He did quite well," you say to your father, making another effort to talk up Jacaerys to him.

"Ser Estermont was an easy opponent," your father says, disinterest and dismissal reflected in his tone.

Once the tournament is over, Jace makes his way into the castle. Several lords and ladies stop him on his way, congratulating him on his victory. He thanks them in passing, his thoughts only on getting into the castle, where he knows he will find you.

There is a feast to be held after the tournament, and while most everyone heads that way, he dismisses himself, saying he wishes to change before then.

When he turns down the hallway towards his quarters, the area is empty. The guards that usually stand at his door were at the tourney and are now sitting down for the feast.

You come around the other end of the hallway, your red dress immediately drawing his eye. You glance around cautiously before breaking into a run, launching yourself into his arms. He catches you easily, laughing as his arms settle around you.

"Oh," you say on a breath, pulling back just enough to face him, "You have no idea how worried I was for you."

"Have you so little faith?" he asks with a smile.

"I believed in you," you say, hand to his chest, "But belief doesn't change the fear that comes at watching a lord twice your size sprint at you with a lance."

"I'm alright," he says, his hands running gently along your back. You smile at him and lean in to kiss his lips softly. Jace hums contentedly into the kiss, his arms wrapping tighter around you as he pulls you into a corner and deepens the kiss.

Together, you stay locked there for a long moment, relishing the quiet that is so hard to find. Jace's hands travel through your hair and over your body, greedy to get his fill of you while he has you.

"I should get to the feast," you say softly when you break for air, your forehead pressed to his.

"Stay with me," he says, entwining his hand with yours.

"My father will be looking for me," you say. Jace's smile drops. "I'm trying," you say, "To sway him to our favor."

"I know you are."

"Your victory today should help with that," you say, giving him a small smile. "Congratulations, by the way."

"Thank you, My Lady," he says with a laugh. "I'll see you at the feast."

"Yes, My Prince."

By the next week, your father's attitude still hasn't changed. At the feast, you tried to talk about the prince, but he wouldn't hear anything of it. Jace had even come over to greet your family. Your father was diplomatic and only spoke to the prince for as long as he had to.

"I don't get why he won't give his blessing," you say, looking down at Jace. His head is in your lap, his eyes closed. He is so peaceful at this moment, you hate to bring this up again, but there seem to be fewer and fewer times for the two of you to be together. Even now, you are supposed to be with other ladies of the court, practicing your needlework. Instead, you snuck off to the Godswood to be with Jace amongst the blossoming trees.

"I'd be queen one day," you continue. "What more could he want for me?" Jace opens his eyes and looks at you with a frown.

"It's because of the rumors about me," he says lowly. You want to say he's wrong, but you wouldn't even believe yourself. The rumors of Jace's parentage had only grown in the last few years. It seemed that as he became older, and King Viserys grew sicker, the accusations only multiplied.

"I don't care about that, though," you say brushing your fingers through his hair.

"You should," he says, taking your hand in his own. "There are some who would see my brothers and I slain, rather than see us inherit our birthright."

"All the great houses swore allegiance to your mother," you say, squeezing his hand. "And you are her trueborn son. To do so would be--"

"Treason," he says, "But there are still those who would try it."

"My father wouldn't," you say. "As stubborn as he is, he is loyal to King Viserys, and by extension, your mother." Jace sits up, a serious expression on his face.

"Tensions are high amongst my family," he says, taking your hands in his. "In the entire kingdom, really. I am worried what may happen. Your father is smart, and that is why he must worry, too."

"You all fear something that may never come to pass," you say, "Are we to be separated in the name of what ifs?"

"We are to be separated until we can convince your father that I can keep you safe."

"And how do we do that?" you ask. Jace lays his head back on your lap.

"I don't know," he says.

The room is dark when you enter your father's quarters that night. He sent word to your lady's maid to see him immediately, but she couldn't find you until now, because you and Jace had been intwined in the Godswood all afternoon.

"Lady Clegane said she did not see you today," your father says right away, before you can even greet him. "Were you not to be under her tutelage this afternoon?"

"I don't need to study my needlepoint, Father," you say, stopping in front of him. "No man alive cares how well his wife can stitch."

"You were with the prince, weren't you?" he asks, standing. He towers over you, but you hold your head high, meeting his gaze.

"Why don't you like him?" you ask. He merely shakes his head.

"It is not a daughter's job to pick her husband," he says, "That duty lies with her father."

"And who would you have me marry instead? A lesser lord of the Westerlands? Someone directly under your control?"

"If that is what I demanded, yes," he says, bracing your arms. "I raised you to obey me, Y/N."

"No, you raised me to cage me," you say, tugging from his grip. "I would be Jacaery's queen! There isn't a more advantageous match out there for me. Yet you refuse to even hear us out, because it is not of your doing!" His face reddens, a telltale sign of his rage. You have never raised your voice to him before, and are now slightly scared of what he may do.

"I think it's time you return to Casterly Rock," he says lowly.

"What?" you ask, momentarily stunned.

"Your time in King's Landing is over," he says firmly. "You have become disobedient and careless."

"Father--"

"Do you think I am the only one who sees it, Y/N?" he asks, taking your hands in his desperately. His eyes are wide and pleading. "Do you think no one saw the two of you in the Godswood today? That no one can see the secret looks you exchange? That family is shameless, and I will have you take no part in it.

"I will not allow your reputation to be ruined by the prince's," he says. Tears begin to form at the finality of his words.

"When do I leave?" you ask, setting your jaw as you fight off the tears.

"I'll escort you the day after tomorrow, so you can make your goodbyes," he says. He can't meet your eyes.

"Very well."

Jace is speechless when you tell him. He found you sitting outside of his chambers the next night, tears streaming down your face. He invited you inside, a hurtle the two of you had yet to pass until then, and held you close while you told him your fate.

"We'll only have tonight," you say quietly.

"Maybe it's for the better."

"How can it be when it separates us?" you ask, looking up at him with watery eyes.

"Just for now," he says, brushing your hair back gingerly. "When things relax, we can try to convince him again."

"How long will that be?" you ask, "He'll have me married off as soon as possible, I know." Jace frowns down at you, his eyes searching for an answer in yours, that he knows he can't find.

"I won't stop fighting for you, Y/N," he says. "I promise."

"I won't either."

"We'll find a way," he says. You nod your head, a new wave of tears incoming, and relax into his chest. He holds you in his arms for a long time, his had tracing patterns along your back. The fire is nearly out in his hearth, and the room grows dark quickly.

"When did he say he wanted you back?"

"Fuck what he said," you say, looking at him intently. "I am not leaving your side tonight." With a hand to his cheek, you bring your lips together. The kiss is slow, a bit salty with the tears streaming down your face, but it is all he has ever wanted. He tries not to think about the fact that this might very well be the last time he ever gets to taste your lips, ever gets to hold you.

But it seems that your thoughts go there as well. Quickly, the kiss turns passionate. Your teeth scrape against his lip, like you can take him with you to Casterly Rock. His hands move down your body, to places he hasn't dared to explore yet. As one, the two of you move, so that he has you pinned to the couch, his body atop yours in a way he's only dreamed about before. You moan into his kiss as his body rocks into yours.

“Y/N,” he says breathlessly, forcing himself to break away from your kiss. Your lips are red, swollen from his touch. Your hair is spread out around you in a cascade of curls. It is torture to see you like this and not bring his body clashing into yours again.

“What?” you ask, your hand trailing down his chest, as if you need to touch him however you can.

“We should stop.”

“Why?”

“If anyone ever found out, you would be disgraced. Your father already doesn’t like me, I don’t want to give him any other reason to—“

“I’ll tell you something right now,” you say, “My good name is mine alone to disgrace. Being here with you now, doesn’t change a single thing about my honor.”

"Are you sure?"

"I need you, Jace," you whisper. You are barely able to finish the words before his mouth meets yours again, fiercer than before. He doesn't stay there too long. He needs to taste you everywhere, savor every moment he's got left with you.

His lips move across your face and down your neck. He loves the sounds you make when he bites down softly, the way your back arches your body into his. He sits the two of you up for just a moment, so that he can pull at the laces along your back.

When the top of your dress falls, he stares at your bare chest for a long moment. You smile at him, your skin flushed.

"You are so beautiful," he says. You grab hold of his face, kissing him again as you fall back onto the couch. Jace palms your breast, kneading gently as you whimper into his mouth. You pull at his clothes, too, until you rip his shirt off over his head.

Skin to skin now, Jace breaks from your lips to kiss down your chest. He lingers for a moment on your breasts, but his need to take you is growing too urgent. He moves down lower, tugging your dress down with him until you are fully exposed to him.

"Y/N," he says on a sigh, marveling at the sight of you.

"I love you."

"I love you," he says, dropping his lips to the folds at your center. The moan you let out is nearly enough to send him over, but he won't deny himself the opportunity to feel what it's like to be inside of you. He focuses on your pleasure, kissing the sensitive bud at the apex of your thigh, watching your face with rapt attention, seeing what action makes you cry out, which makes you thrust into him.

When you cry out his name, his watches proudly as your body clenches, waves of pleasure roll through you. Jace keeps up his actions for a few moments longer, tasting and savoring the moment as you come down.

When he sits up, he watches the rise and fall of your chest, the satisfied smile on your face. He kisses your lips passionately, treasuring the little sounds of happiness you make as he does.

He drops his trousers next, rubbing his cock against your slick folds. He presses into you slowly, barely able to keep his control, his need is so great. You gasp as you take him in, grabbing hold of his shoulders. He begins to rock into you, his movements gentle. As your sounds become more frequent, he picks up his pace, until the only sound he can hear is your cries of pleasure, and the collision of your two bodies.

He comes soon after that, his body collapsing on top of yours. For a long while, the two of you lay there, sweaty and happy, waiting for your breathing to return to normal.

"Jace," you say on a breath, breaking the silence first.

"Yes, my love?" he asks, his eyes meeting yours.

"This cannot be the last time," you say, cupping his cheek.

"It won't be. We'll find a way, I swear."

It's early morning when you return to your chambers. Your father collects you an hour later, and although the look he gives you suggests that he knows where you were, thankfully, he doesn't say anything.

The journey to Casterly Rock is long, taking nearly three weeks, and the entire time, your thoughts are on Jace. You bring him up a few times with your father, but after the most recent, he stops looking at you, stops speaking altogether, and rides astride his horse, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

When the news of King Viserys's death breaks, you hear it from your lady's maid. You shoo her away when she tries to finish braiding your hair. You know you should feel sad - Viserys was a great king, and had been sick for a long time. The last time you saw him, he looked like a walking corpse, and you had to avert your gaze.

But his passing means that Rhaenyra will be crowned queen. She will return from Dragonstone, where she fled just a week after you left King's Landing, and Jace with her.

You run from your chambers and burst into your parents' quarters, and find them talking in hushed, urgent tones. Your mother turns at your arrival and the look on her face scares you. There is panic in her gaze, mixed with a sadness that seems to grow when she sees you.

"Y/N," she says softly.

"I just heard the news."

"Yes."

"I expect we'll be leaving for King's Landing soon?" you ask, looking to your father. "For Princess Rhaenyra's coronation?"

"My dear," your mother says, a hand out to call you to her side. "Maybe you should sit down."

"What is it?" you ask as she sits you down in front of their empty hearth.

"Rhaenyra is not going to be queen," your father says.

"What do you mean?"

"Aegon has been crowned."

"He usurped the throne?" you ask in shock. "Are we gathering our bannerman? Should we--"

"Y/N," your father says with a sigh, taking your hands as he sits across from you. "We won't be calling our bannerman. We are supporting King Aegon."

"You swore allegiance to Rhaenyra," you say icily, looking between your parents' faces.

"I can't explain it all to you, daughter. There is much you don't understand."

"Uncle Tyland?" you ask quietly. Certainly, your level-headed uncle would see reason, when your father could not.

"He sits upon Aegon's small council," your father says.

"How long has this been planned?" you ask, moving away from your parents. The room suddenly feels too suffocating. Watching them, waiting for their response, you catch a quick look between your parents.

"How long have you known about this, Father?" you ask, stepping closer to look him in the eye.

"Rhaenyra was never going to be queen," he says lowly. "Regardless of the parentage of her sons. Although, that certainly didn't help her cause." You pull back from him, a look of disgust on your face. "And Aegon will make a good king."

"What will happen to Rhaenyra? To her sons?" you ask, the second question coming out broken. He doesn't answer. You look to your mother, hoping for some words of support from her, but she shares the same sad look on her own face.

"You've known this for so long . . ." you say, thoughts racing, "That's why you wouldn't approve an engagement between Prince Jacaerys and I."

"Yes," he says, "And I won't feel sorry for it. He'll be killed, no doubt. I don't want the same fate for you."

"But Daddy," you cry, calling him by a name you haven't in years, feeling as helpless as if you were still that child, "I love him!"

"It's already done, Y/N," he says, pain in his eyes. You let out a strangled sound before sliding down the wall.

"I'm having his baby," you say through a sob.

"What?" your mother asks urgently, crouching at your side. "What do you mean?" But no words come to you. The tears are falling too fast, any words choked by hiccupping.

Eventually, they bring you to your room. They both asked more questions about the baby, but you don't answer them, you can't. You don't trust them.

Your father had known this fate would befall Rhaenyra, would befall her sons. He knew you loved Jace, and he still let it all happen.

The next morning, your mother comes into your room. Her eyes are bloodshot, with dark circles underneath them. She brings you a cup of tea and kisses your forehead, before she says anything.

"Tell me about the baby," she says. "Are you certain?"

"No," you admit, bringing your knees to your chest. "But I haven't had my blood in a few weeks." Your mother nods and looks down sadly at her own drink.

"You'll need to drink moon tea," your mother says softly.

"I won't."

"Then you'll need to get married immediately, and claim the child as your new husband's."

"I won't do that either."

"Y/N," she begins with a sigh.

"You've already slammed the door on my whole world, I won't let you take this one last piece of him I have. If I am to have his child, I will keep it and I won't claim it as anyone else's."

"You'll be ruined," she says. "And if Aegon finds out that your child is Jacaerys's--"

"He won't. Nobody needs to know."

"Your father won't like this," she says gently. "You do not wish to make him angry."

"He's been angry. I've made my decision."

The next week, your cycle arrives, and you cry all day long.

"Sending another raven?" Rhaenyra asks, stepping out onto the cool balcony beside Jace. He gives her a tight lipped smile and nods. "Have you heard back from her?"

"Here and there," he says. He has been sending ravens to you for the past two weeks.

"I'm sorry your feelings fell into the middle of this mess."

"You have nothing to apologize for, Mother," he says seriously. She gives him a sad smile, a palm to his cheek.

"Baela tells me you have a plan to get her out," she says. Jace looks at her with wide eyes. He hadn't technically asked her permission, and what he was doing would be dangerous for their position.

"I know I should have told you," he starts.

"Yes, you should have. I would like to help," she says. She laughs at the bewildered look on Jace's face. "Do you think I would let you suffer here, knowing she's there, probably suffering too? Tell me your plan, Jace."

So he does. He gives her the same instructions he just sent to you. She gives him her support, while offering a few suggestions. She leaves him on the balcony after, giving him space to think over his plan, and to try and quell the hope building up inside of him.

All he is waiting for is one word from you, and he will enact this plan.

A day later, a raven knocks at his window, waking him from sleep. He leaps up immediately to grab its message, and finds just one word, written in your handwriting.

Yes.

On the morning of your escape, you awake with a smile on your face. It has been weeks since you felt anything at all. Your lady's maid enters into the room to ready you for the day, and you greet her, "Good morning."

"Good morning, My Lady," she says, looking at you in bewilderment. You're not sure you've spoken to her since you arrived at Casterly Rock. "I trust you slept well, then?"

"The best yet," you say.

As she moves about the room, getting your clothing together, you make sure to pick out the dullest dress in your wardrobe. When she sits you down to do your hair, you have her tuck your tendrils into a woven braid. Everything for indiscretion, or this plan will not work out.

When you walk into the breakfast room, your parents are gathered around a table. You give them a kind smile, playing the part of the dutiful daughter, knowing that your plans for escape were all laid.

"Good morning," your mother says, an air of suspicion in her voice.

"Morning," you say, sitting down next to her. "Good morning, Father."

"You haven't forgotten about your commitment today, I hope?" your father asks.

"No, I remember I am meeting with Lord Lannys today," you say innocently. He studies you for a moment like he doesn't believe you, but then his expression changes, or he forces it to. He forces himself to believe that you have finally pulled out of your darkness.

"Perhaps I'll accompany you down there," he says, "It's been a while since I have checked in on Lannisport."

"No," you say quickly. "You said you'd let me go with just a few guards."

"So I did."

"I have so little freedom," you say, "Am I to be chaperoned every day of my life?" The look on your father's face is one of remembrance, that this is the behavior he expects from his daughter.

"You will stay close to your guards," he says firmly.

"Of course."

"Our world is not as safe as it once was."

"I know."

"Very well."

You thank him and your mother, and when you bid them farewell, it is bittersweet. You try to see them as the loving parents you had when you were younger, but now you only see the causes of your heartbreak, and know that you're making the right call.

"When will she be here?" Joffrey asks impatiently, for the third time.

"Soon, I think," Jace answers.

"Why has it taken so long?"

"You don't have to wait with me, Joff," he says with a look to the younger boy. "It takes a long time to get here from the Westerlands."

In his plan, Jace had wanted to assure that your route would not be easily followable. The plan was for you to go to Lannisport and get aboard a ship that would take you to Seaguard. From there, you would travel by horse to Gulltown, where the Arryns would assure you passage to Dragonstone.

Yesterday, he got word that you arrived to Gulltown safely. If all went well, you would be in Dragonstone anytime now.

But the waiting was agony. Many times, Jace thought about saddling Vermax and flying out to you, just to get one glimpse of you. He knew himself, though, and knew that if he saw you, even from the air, he wouldn't want to let you out of his sights. He needed to wait patiently.

He was as bad as Joffrey, though.

When he finally sees your ship on the horizon, his heart starts beating faster. He rushes from his balcony and makes his way through the castle. Joffrey tries to keep up, but Jace loses him somewhere along the steps leading down to the shore.

Jace gets to the pier just as the small boat does. He doesn't think he is breathing as you step off the boat. Your eyes are searching for his and when they find him, a smile breaks across your face. You run towards him and he does the same, meeting you in the middle of the pier.

The second you are in his arms, you break down into tears. You cling to every part of him, your hands needing to touch him, needing to know that he is well. He realizes he is doing the same, his hand tangled in your hair, the other on your back.

"Oh, it's so good to see you," you say, pulling back just enough to look him over. Before Jace can say anything, you kiss him quickly, but fiercely.

"I'm so glad you're here," he says, hugging you again. You laugh, squeezing him just as tight.

"You're probably exhausted," he says, taking your hand and leading you back towards the castle. "You've had a long journey."

"Just a month," you say with a shrug, making him laugh.

"Well, you deserve your rest. I'll bring you right to my room," he says, "But there's one thing you'll have to do first."

"What's that?" you ask, furrowing your brow.

"Speak to my mother."

Dragonstone castle is not that much different from King's Landing, but it's unfamiliar, and unwelcoming. At least, the men sitting around Rhaenyra are. As you stand before them, some of your courage starts to slip.

"I am relieved to see you here safely, Lady Y/N," Rhaenyra says with a gentle smile.

"Thank you, Your Grace," you say. She stands and moves closer to you.

"I am sorry for having to do this, but seeing as your house has pledged their support to my brother, I have to ask where you allegiance lies," she says, stopping in front of you.

"With you, of course," you say immediately.

"You must know the risks, Y/N," she says, "You could very well be killed for supporting my claim and Jace's." For a moment, you glance back at your prince, and gather strength from his encouraging look.

"I'd burn my whole life down before I listen to another second of my father's scheming, and well before I bend the knee to Aegon Targaryen," you say.

"I love your son very much, I would never do anything to jeopardize his future, or yours, My Queen." Rhaenyra gives you a smile that is so much like her sons. She nods her head.

"Thank you, Y/N. Welcome to Dragonstone."

"Thank you, Your Grace," you say. Before you can even turn around, Jace's hand is in yours. He is looking down at you with a smile.

"Come on," he says, pulling on your hand gently. He leads you through the castle, up to his chambers, which will now be your own, he explains.

Once the doors close behind you, he is upon you, wrapping you in his arms as he kisses you. You smile into the kiss, realizing that this is not a dream, or just a passing moment. You'll get to stay in his arms for the rest of your lives.

"I love you," you say when you break away. "Thank you for getting me out of there."

"You're my lady, Y/N," he says, "And very soon I'll make you my princess. Of course I sent for you. I love you."

You wrap your arms around his neck, bringing your body into his again as your lips connect again.

"You must be exhausted," he says breathlessly. "You'll want to sleep."

"All I want is right here."

[ohsc]

₊˚⊹♡ assistance | sam winchester x reader

a/n - not for kinktober just a fic i wanted to get out!! i’m unsure whether i like the dialogue on this im sorry if it sucks i feel i can never write dirty talk right *sobs* but i really hope you enjoy!!! <3

cws - fem!reader, 2k, nsfw 18+, phone sex, mutual masturbation, kind of softdom!sam, long distance, fluff, comfort, kinda unedited

other fics can be found on my masterlist

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

It was later than he’d liked by the time he finally got back to the motel. With muscles that ached from the day’s strain, brain fogged from how tired he was, Sam honestly just wanted to call his girlfriend and talk to her until he fell asleep.

He’d meant to text her a couple of hours prior to let her know the hunt was dragging on longer than expected, but his phone had fucking died when he and Dean were two hours into their trek into the woods to find the pack of werewolves they were hunting, and he’d been pretty miserable ever since.

Dean had disappeared off to the nearest bar after dropping Sam off at their room so he thankfully had the place to himself to mope around as he plugged his phone into the charger and showered whilst he waited for it to get some power. The shitty water pressure and barely lukewarm water did nothing for his aching back, so he was even more agitated by the time he got himself settled onto the uncomfortable mattress twenty minutes later, hair wet and skin still damp beneath his clothes with his eagerness to call her.

As much as he hated being away from her for so long, and too often, it was the safest thing to do. Sam wouldn't be able to forgive himself if something happened to her because she was too close to his shit. He still had dreams about Jess, about how that was all his fault. He couldn’t let it happen again.

His phone hadn’t even reached twenty percent but he was impatient and shuffled over to the edge of the bed so the phone cord would reach and held the phone to his ear as he called her, propped himself up against the headboard.

The phone didn’t even ring twice before she answered.

“Sam?”

“Hey, baby.” The words came out in an exhale, most of the tension left him just at the sound of her voice, the ache seeping out of his bones like a relief. It was what kept him sane whenever he was away. Her picture in his wallet, her hair tie on his wrist, her voice in his ear.

“Hi, Sammy. Got worried when you didn’t call on time.”

He winced at the thought. She worried for him, of course she did. Sam understood how horrible it must have felt for her, knowing what he was going off to do. He could only imagine the dread that must’ve curled inside of her whenever he was late calling. Too many things had happened in the past, too many things could still go wrong.

“Sorry, my phone died when we were still out, didn’t get back until way later than I thought,” he groaned, sank down the headboard a little to stretch out on the bed. The agitation still hadn’t quite left him, the stiffness in his muscles prominent. He wanted nothing more than to curl up with her in his arms and he couldn’t have it. “Miss you, honey.”

He could hear the smile in her voice as she responded, “Missed you more. Wish you were here, it’s cold at night without you in bed too.”

He snorted a quiet laugh. “That’s why you miss me?”

“Mhm,” she giggled, though her voice turned a little coy as she murmured, “among other reasons.”

“Yeah?” An automatic smile was curling at his mouth.

Another little giggle through the receiver. He didn’t even need to see her to know that she had that little bashful smile on her face. He also knew exactly what was on her mind, it was on his too.

It wasn’t the first time they’d have done this. He was on the road so often that their sex life wasn’t as amazing as it could have been, and it wasn’t like he didn’t pleasure himself when he was away on hunts anyways.

There had been many many evenings he’d spent in the shower, hot water rolling down his back as he had one hand pressed to the tiled wall whilst the other pumped his cock until his cum was washed down the drain along with his shampoo bubbles. It wasn’t ideal — bottom lip tucked between his teeth to stifle the heaving breaths and quiet groans, trying to get off as fast as he could before the hot water could run out or Dean could get back to the room. It was even worse when it became a result of having her on the phone. There had been many occasions where her soft voice and giggles in his ear had been enough to get him hard, on nights when he was really missing her and it had just been too long since he’d kissed her.

It turned out she did the same as him. Though when Sam pictured it, it was a lot more graceful than his time in the shower. Laid out all pretty on their bed, legs spread, fingers wet with her own arousal as her head tipped back against the pillows. Sometimes if he got a little selfish he pictured her voice all whimpery saying his name as she came, but he couldn’t get lost in that daydream often, or he’d get hard over that, too.

“Miss you,” she breathed again, and the shift in her tone was palpable. “I… I tried touching myself earlier but I couldn’t cum without you on the phone.”

The groan that left him was automatic and his cock throbbed, hardening beneath the material of his boxers. The idea that she couldn’t even get off without his voice in her ear did wonders for him, it was a wonder his ego wasn’t too big already.

“You need my help, honey?” He crooned into the phone, settled into the tone of voice he knew she liked to hear, the voice he used more often than not when he was whispering in her ear, hips slotted between her thighs, rolling in a rhythm that left her whiney and panting.

Her soft little “mhm” was enough for him to move his other hand down and palm himself, hissing in a breath through his teeth.

“Go ahead and lay down for me, pretty girl. Wanna tell me what you’re wearing?”

There was the rustling of sheets over the phone before her voice spoke up again, “Just one of your shirts.”

Another groan. “You trying to kill me, baby?”

She giggled and his cock twitched beneath his palm. Jesus Christ he needed to get back to her, he needed her in person, to sate the need that wouldn’t be doused thoroughly enough over the phone.

“Go ahead and spread your legs for me, sweetheart,” he breathed, palming his cock again as he spoke, eyes squeezing shut as his head knocked back against the headboard. “Did you get yourself all worked up earlier, hm? Are you all soaked already?”

There was another hum, though he could hear the way her breathing had deepened, deep and heavy in his ear. He could picture the tickle of her breath on his face, the shape of her lips, the taste of her mouth after she’d just brushed her teeth. He needed her.

“Why don’t you start touching yourself for me?” He murmured, voice low with his arousal. Her resounding moan was enough for his cock to throb again and his hand finally dipped beneath his waistband, freeing himself with a quiet groan.

“Are you touching yourself too?” She whimpered, and it was a miracle he didn’t just cum there and then.

“Yeah,” his hand lifted and he tipped his head down to spit into his palm, groaning softly the next time he pumped his cock. “Yeah I am, dolly. Your pretty voice got me all worked up— fuck.” He breathed out the word between his teeth. He was already leaking pre-cum, thumbing over the head of his cock in a move that made him shudder, though it felt nice when she did it. Stroked his cock with her pretty hands, her pretty lips that wrapped around his head when she was on her knees for him, licking along the length of his dick in a way that always made him weak in the knees.

She moaned again and his hips jerked, rutting into his hand with a filthy groan. “How’re you feeling, honey?”

She whimpered, and Sam felt another dribble of pre-cum slide down the length of his cock. “Good— mm, good, j’st—” she took in a shaky breath, “feels better when it’s you, baby.”

“Oh yeah?” He grunted, pumping his cock just a little faster. “Why’s that, dolly?”

“Bigger hands,” she breathed. “longer fingers.”

Sam moaned, the idea of his fingers nestled deep in her wet heat enough for his cock to throb in his hand, and he knew he wouldn’t last long. But from the sounds of her pretty little whimpers, neither would she. “Can’t fill that pretty pussy up as nice as I can, hm?” He took in a shuddering breath. “Play with your clit for me, sweetheart.”

He could hear the moment she did, the sharp inhale, the whimpery moan, the rustling of the sheets as she, undoubtedly, spread her legs wider. “Oh god, Sammy—”

“Are you close, sweetheart?”

All he got in response was a high-pitched “uh-huh.”

“That’s it— shit, that’s it, baby,” he panted, pumping his cock faster, moaning softly as his head arched back. “Go on, dolly, make some pretty sounds for me as you cum, won’t you? M’gonna cum just thinking about you making such a mess of yourself, c’mon, baby—” he was practically begging between sharp breaths.

It only took a moment before he heard her sharp inhale and the whine that followed, and all it took was a few more quick ruts into his hand and the sounds of her before he groaned her name, toes curled and eyelids scrunched as he came. He could feel the evidence of his orgasm dribbling down his cock and his fingers as he shucked a few more times, hissing through his teeth as he finally stopped.

“Oh sweetheart,” he breathed, panting, not unlike her heavy breaths into the phone. “You sounded so fucking pretty, honey. That feel good for you?”

She took a shuddery breath and hummed again. “Yeah, thanks baby.”

Sam couldn’t help the breathy chuckle. “Don’t need to thank me,” he murmured. “M’always gonna take care of my girl, even if I’m not there. You made quite a mess of me, too.”

She breathed a laugh, and a moment passed of just their shared breathing as they both calmed down. Sam’s cock had softened completely against his abdomen, and he’d have to change his clothes and have another shower, but fuck was it worth it.

“I’ll be on my way back to you tomorrow,” he promised once his breathing had mostly evened out. “Should be with you before dinner, then you get me all to yourself.”

She yawned into the phone before mumbling, “Good, want you back to me as soon as possible.”

The sound of her so sleepy just left him so soft. “I promise I will be,” he breathed. “Why don’t you get some sleep, okay honey? I’ll call you in the morning when we’re on the road.”

“Okay,” her voice had completely softened, coated in a sickly-sweet fondness that left him putty in her hands. “I love you. Get back to me safe, okay?”

“I always do,” Sam smiled. “I love you too. Night, gorgeous.”

She yawned her own goodbye before the line went dead, and he let the phone drop back down onto the mattress with a heavy breath.

Just one more day, then he could have her in person, help her in all the ways he wanted to on the phone.

[logansbaby]

DIET PEPSI | Logan Howlett

❥ summary: stuck in a place of unspoken desire and longing, the limousine drives only further ignite the spark between logan howlett and you. months of built up lust and emotions bubble over when you take control.

word count: 8.1k (im unable to write short smut scenes)

pairings: old man logan howlett x fem!reader

content warnings: 18+ content (MDNI), masturbation, messy kissing, spitting (im so sorry but it’s my weakness), oral (fem!receiving), begging, humping, pussy pronouns (it’s sooooooo) unprotected sex, gagging? it’s just once, car sex, feelings, logan being self destructive, pet names (baby, honey, princess ITS CANON SOOOO) let me know if i missed anything!

❥ a/n: soooooooo…. this took forever im SO sorry! life is absolutely insane and chronic illnesses are not for the weak. anyways think of this as a gift from me to all you sexy people for 2k!!!!!!! thank you so much, i could kiss you all<3 i hope you enjoy, let me know what you think

—˚｡⋆⟡♡⟡⋆｡˚

‘When we drive in your car, I'm your baby (so sweet)

Losing all my innocence in the back seat

Say you love, say you love, say you love me (love me)

Losing all my innocence in the back seat’

Diet Pepsi - Addison Rae

—˚｡⋆⟡♡⟡⋆｡˚

TENSION simmers in the air of the limousine as the driver and passenger engage in a silent staring contest through the rearview mirror. The cool air blasting from the air vents does little to dismantle the heat bubbling in the small space.

Though nonchalance is painted on your face, a darker, seductive glint glimmers in your eyes, a challenge settling within them. You tilt your head, tongue slipping out to glisten your lips with saliva.

There's no shame evident in your gaze; your body is thrumming with pure, hot need and you could cry out with how bad you need the man in the driver's seat.

Logan isn't faring much better— fists gripping the steering wheel tight enough that his healing knuckles turn white, a frown etching deep in his features. He’s desperate to hold onto the tiny sliver of control he has left, mind working to come up with anything to keep him away from giving into this, into you.

This thing between you both started the minute you settled in the backseat of his limousine all those months ago and the unspoken desire has only grown since then.

It’s like there’s something tethering you to him— it’s why you keep coming back to him, calling for his car services despite the fact that your car has long since been fixed. You find yourself craving him, unable to think about anything but him in the early hours of the morning. No matter how many times you come thinking about him, the ache and desire for the man only grows. Though, you haven’t even had a taste.

Yet.

You won’t give in first, though. As much as you want to climb over the seat and suck his cock right then and there as he drives, you’ve held back, just barely, for months.

Logan is a man of very few words and he prefers actions to speaking his feelings. He’s shown you he’s softened to you in the way he hums to show you he’s listening to your rambles. He’s shown it in the way he shows up when you both know you don’t need his car anymore. He doesn’t say it, but you know he wants you as much as you want him, and you’ve been waiting for him to finally give in, to make you his.

As soon as you sat down tonight, fresh from the club, you knew something was bound to happen, especially with the way Logan’s been eying you the entire drive.

Which, it’s important to note that your destination leads to nowhere, you just craved to see the man that badly.

You lean back against the seat, eyes speaking a thousand words as they meet his once more. God, he’s so handsome. His pretty hazel eyes, the slope of his nose, the salt and pepper stubble stretching across his cheeks. Oh, how you want to feel the burn against your—

“Stop that.” Logan’s grunt snaps you from your thoughts.

“Stop what?” You go for innocence but really, your tone is saturated in lust and it gives you away entirely.

“Stop looking at me like that.”

“Like what, Logan?” You’re challenging him, and though you can’t see it from the backseat, his dress pants get considerably tighter at the defiance in your voice. “I’m not doing anything.”

“Bullshit,” He counters, eyes flickering to yours and you choose then to bite down on your glossy lips. His knuckles flex with the urge to release the claws piercing beneath his skin; is he crazy for being jealous that he’s not the one biting into the plush skin? “You’re staring at me like you want me to fuck you.”

Vermillion warmth spreads from your chest to your cheeks at his bluntness. It’s completely true, but the dirty truth makes you flush, and your panties to dampen at the thought.

“It’s not gonna happen, baby.” His tone is confident, sure and it pisses you off. “It’s not, so knock it off.”

You roll your eyes, turning to stare out the window. You’re not sure when it started raining, but the water droplets hit the glass pane harshly with its momentum. The pitter patter of water should distract you from Logan, but it just sends you further spiraling.

How dare he deny your feelings and then call you baby?

Blah, blah, blah! His reasons for keeping you apart are pathetic. You couldn’t careless for the years he has on you, you’re a grown woman, and fully capable of what you want. You don’t care what kind of a man he was before he met you; your feelings for him defeat any sense of logic your mind can muster.

You remember how it felt the first time you saw him. Wild, untamed butterflies erupted in the pit of your stomach the moment Logan’s eyes met yours. You remember how your name sounded on his lips, a rough voice rendering chills across your skin.

That day had been a shitty one, your boss scolding you for tiny mistakes and everything had seemed to go wrong. Even more so when your car broke down and your then boyfriend refused to pick you up, instead sending you a link to a limousine service. You were sure nothing would get better from that point on.

But when you sat down in his car, Logan’s presence made you feel safe, and it wracked your brain as to why a stranger made you feel so comfortable.

Evidently, you kept calling the limo service (if you silently praised your ex for leading you to Logan, no one had to know).

You remember how you began looking forward to seeing him. You remember how talking with him, rambling on about whatever, felt normal. You remember how being in the vicinity of him felt like taking a breath of crisp, cool air after months of no oxygen.

Logan has picked you up from the bar, carried you up to your apartment door when you were too drunk to do it yourself. Logan has veered off course when your stomach audibly rumbled during a drive to work, insisting you needed to eat. He even grabbed you a milkshake when you told him how you dumped your ex.

He’s been there in every way that counts, but not close enough.

Somewhere along the way, you’ve become love sick, reduced to a yearning mess each time you see him, each time only furthering your feelings. All you want is for Logan to accept this spark between you and let you in, let you ease his troubles and care— because you do, so much.

And, you might want Logan’s dick deep inside you, his strong body hovering over yours as he fucks you dirty, hard, and rough.

“Whatever, Logan.” Huffing, your eyes roll to further showcase your opinion. You shift in your seat, crossing your legs and the action causes the tiny, black dress to slip further up your thighs.

And because Logan has a staring problem where you’re concerned, he sees the roll of your eyes, the expanse of thigh that’s showing. Whenever you’re like this, so unashamed of your need for him, it makes him want to let go of any morals. It makes him want to throw your legs over his shoulders and devour you, lick up the slick he knows is there. He’d like to finally shut your mouth up, finally stop those bratty comments as he fills you up.

Instead, he stays quiet and focuses on the empty road ahead. He can do this, resist your hazy eyes and luscious lips long enough until he gets you to your destination. The radio is switched on then, some pop song filtering through the vehicle in an attempt to lessen the thick, sexual strain permeating the air.

Though, that little action seems to unravel any little bit of control either of you have.

His indifference annoys you; here you are, adorned in a black, lacy dress that does nothing to cover your thighs and grips your curves deliciously. And, you even turned down an attractive man at the club in favor of having Logan pick you up; just the thought of him made you immune to another’s charm.

How embarrassing are you? Staying loyal to a man that has decided the course of your relationship without your input. You would’ve walked away if it were any other person, but you’ve seen the way he eyes you each time you get inside his car, seen the way his fingers go white as he grips the steering wheel, seen the way his cock goes hard at the sight of you.

And that’s when you decide you’re sick of this. Sick of Logan denying you both mind altering pleasure, sick of him pushing you away, sick of him deciding what’s best for you when you can make your own decisions.

A noisy clink! resounds as you unbuckle your seatbelt, and move towards the front of the car. You feel a prickling gaze at the side of your face as you fit yourself over the console, hand reaching to turn off the radio knob. You let your fingertips just barely graze Logan’s arm as you do so, and you’d think he’s unfazed had you not been so close to see the shudder rack through him, to hear the gruff inhale that has a shaky lilt.

In the corner of your eye, you see his mouth part, but before he can scold you, you remove yourself and land back against the cushion. If you’re going to do this, you want his entire attention on you, not some shitty song filtering through the radio station.

You adjust yourself, wiggling until you’re comfortable. Parting your thighs, you feel your confidence soar as you note how Logan’s eyes track your movements.

The dress is bunched up around the tops of your thighs and with the way your legs are open, stretched enough that your ankles lean against the opposite sides of the leather, the lacy thong is on display.

One hand trails down to the spot between your legs, where you’re slick and wet with want. You don’t touch yourself right away, instead petting the supple skin of your inner thighs. The other hand moves to caress your breasts as they threaten to spill from the confines of the dress. You sigh, a shiver racketing through you as nimble fingers brush your most sensitive spots with a mere graze.

“What are you—“ Logan starts, but you cut him off because you’re in charge here, not him.

“Shut up, Logan.” You’re trying to sound stern but with the way you’re softly petting your nipples through the fabric, it’s more breathy than authoritative.

“Fuck,” Logan spits out, trying really hard to not crash but it’s proving to be a bit impossible with the way he can see you teasing yourself. What’s worse is the fact that the intoxicating scent of your pussy is assaulting his senses. He feels high on your smell, on the way he watches through the mirror as you pinch your chest. “Fuck.”

“You know…” You start, but it’s interrupted by a sudden inhale as you finally touch your tender clit through the thin material, pads rubbing softly until that familiar, hot feeling fills your stomach. “I wish I stayed at the club a little longer.”

“Is that right?” If your eyes were open, you’d see how unhinged and feral the man looks. The skin of his knuckles split open as his claws peak out.

A whimper rings loud into Logan’s ears and fuck, that angelic noise will haunt him for the rest of his fucking life. His eyes snap back to see you slowly rolling your hips into your hands, fingers playing with your clit lazily.

“Mhmm, I shouldn’t have called you. Not when you constantly ignore me.” You whine, spreading your legs further apart than before, feeling a rush you’ve never felt before blossom across your entire body at the show you’re putting on. “You pretend there’s nothing here, you pretend you don’t want me, and it pisses me off.”

He’s trying so incredibly hard to force the words ‘knock it off and cover yourself up’ out, but he can’t.

He can’t when it’s the furthest thing from what he actually wants. He can faintly see the wet spot on your underwear, and he wants to scream at you to remove the material all together— he’s that desperate to see your puffy, pretty cunt glisten in all its glory.

“I don’t ignore you, baby.” It’s grunted out, the pain of his claws only aiding in his desire as his cock grows uncomfortably stiff in his pants. “But I can’t give you what you want.”

Another roll of your eyes sends a shiver down Logan’s aching back. Oh, if you don’t knock it off, he’s going to make you cry as he fucks you dumb.

Happy thoughts… Logan thinks.

“There was this guy in the club.” By the tiny smirk on your lips, he knows he shouldn’t take the bait. He knows you’re trying to push him, trying to get him to let go and take what you both desire. He knows he shouldn’t fall for it.

Too bad hes never been good at listening.

“What?”

The lethal, cold depth of his voice has your eyes flying open and you have the audacity to fucking moan. You’re usually not this… bold? Perhaps Logan just turns you into a feral, needy thing.

“Yeah, he was cute too!” You hum, bubbles of laughter tumbling from bitten lips at the way Logan stares at you, at how he gives you a warning look. “He offered to by me a drink, said he wanted to dance.”

“He’s a dick.”

“No, he said I’m pretty.”

“You are pretty.” It’s angry, the way he forces it out, not because it’s untrue, but because the idea of another man trying to make a move on you, his girl, sends anger boiling beneath his skin.

“He was nice, I don’t know why I bothered to turn him down.” It’s through a moan, the way the words are murmured because your fingers are now rubbing circles over your sex in a motion that has your hips jolting, legs shaking, and lips shiny with spit as you bite at them.

“He’s an asshole, only wants one thing from you.”

“I don’t care, what if I want only one thing from him too?”

“Careful.” He practically growls, the limousine swerving slightly before he gets control over the wheel again.

He’s not sure when you’ve become so fucking obscene, but he aches to bend you over the hood of the car and teach you a lesson. He’s so overwhelmed with the turn of events, of how so many feelings jump about beneath his ribcage.

He knows he’s been pushing you away, ignoring the connection you have, but fuck? The knowledge you can slip away from him at any moment makes him feel agonized.

“Jealous?” You taunt, the material of your underwear darker with the slick pooling there and you both know Logan can see it.

“No.”

“I gave him my number, you know.” It's spoken so nonchalantly that a snarl threatens to escape deep from Logan’s throat. “He said to call if I need anything…”

“Watch it,” it’s calmly muttered, but Logan’s anything but. He’s torn between actually focusing on the road and watching your fingers roll your clit in the rear view mirror. That, and anger rolls off him in thick, daunting waves because of a man he doesn’t even know.

You’ve got him wrapped around your pretty finger and he’s a fool to think anything else. He’s a fool to think he’s been successful in the suppression of his feelings.

“Maybe I should call him,” You suggest, your hand slipping beneath the sodden mesh and finally touching your clit properly. “He was hot.”

Logan’s so wrapped up in your euphoric face and honeyed voice that he’s struggling to remember why he’s so riled up.

“Stop tryna piss me off. You’re on my last fuckin’ nerve.” He’s stern, but you just smile wide and slip the pads of your fingers down to swipe up the arousal dripping from your hole, your whiny pants making his spine go rigid.

“I’m not doing anything, Logan.”

“Bullshit. Whatever you think you’re doing, it’s not gonna work. This can’t happen.”

He’s trying so hard to convince himself as much as you. His words don’t bother you though, because the smile on your face morphs into a satisfied smirk.

“You don’t want me?” You challenge, and you stare him down as your fingers retreat from your cunt. You lift your hand up to your mouth, never once looking away as you stick them past your lips and suck.

Your body jolts when the car swerves wildly, but instead of fear, blistering lust fills you and burns your cheeks. Logan looks so incredibly distraught with how your lips wrap around your fingers, a soft ‘hmmm’ falling from you at the taste of desire blooming across your tastebuds.

“Shit, honey. Of course I want you. You don’t know how bad I need you.”

“Please.” You cry out, voice high and dripping with want. Your fingers part from your wandering tongue, traveling down the path of your curves to find your pussy again. “Please, please—“

“No.”

“Logan!” You’re so overwhelmed with your blatant need for the man that actual tears pool at your lashes.

“No.”

“And why the fuck not?”

“Don’t give me attitude.” He commands and you must be sick because the stern, finality of his tone has your hole clenching around nothing. “You know why.”

“—oh my god, Logan. Not this again, the ‘I’m not a good guy,’ and ‘I’m too old for you’ is absolute shit! I don’t care, I want you to fuck me.”

You’re so forthright that he can’t be blamed with how his stomach churns with intense hunger.

“You deserve so much more, more than I can give you.”

Logan seems to forget that as much as he’s come to know you, you’ve also picked up on his own habits. So, you know he’s full of shit by the twitch of his hands on the wheel, the tightening of his lips, the way he’s staring at you like a man starved.

“You know what? Fine, that’s fine. I’ll just call Nate and—“

“Who?” The cold note in his words should scare you, but it just sends another wave of slick to seep down your thighs.

“Nate! The guy from the club,” you say, one hand reaching for the phone hidden in your purse, and the other rubbing slow circles on your neglected clit. The mixture of your spit and wetness is noisy as you rub yourself, the sound driving Logan fucking insane.

“I told you, the guy sounds like a dick. The fuck kind of name is that?” Logan’s patience is running out and you both know it, the string tearing with each tug you give. His eyes widen when you wiggle the phone in his eyeline.“Don’t you fuckin’ dare.”

“Why? At least he was willing to fuck me.”

And, oh.

You’re not sure what causes you to say that, but the atmosphere turns tense, filling with anticipation, something dark and dangerous enough that chills run across your exposed skin.

It’s silent. Astonishingly silent as Logan tears his gaze from you, his eyes only forward now. You don’t back down; you know you’re driving the man crazy and it feels fucking good.

Without tearing your eyes from him, you hit the call button.

The sound of the phone dialing has Logan snapping. The car tires screech loudly as Logan slams on the breaks, yanking the wheel to pull of to the side of the road.

Your hands fly out to catch yourself from the swift, jerky motion. A sense of accomplishment bubbles inside your chest when Logan shuts the car off, his body frantic and quick before he’s out the driver's door.

You’re jittery with nerves, despite the fact you were just rubbing your clit like a madwoman in front of him. You were tempting him, sure. But now that he’s finally snapped, you’re nervous.

You gasp as chilly air hits you in the face when the back door opens. In an instant, he’s in the back with you, slamming the door shut. His presence is so intimidating and powerful that you shiver, arousal licking at your back as he crowds into your space.

He glares at you, and just as about you’re about to speak, a rough, large hand grips your chin tightly. He squeezes your cheeks, thumb pulling at your bottom lip. His other hand yanks the phone from your fingers and chucks the device in the front seat.

“So fucking stubborn and bratty, always fucking pushing me. Never stop talking, do you?”

“I’ll have you kno—“

Logan slams his mouth onto yours then, effectively shutting you the fuck up.

It’s like fireworks are set off in your stomach, a trickle of mind numbing pleasure tingling every inch of you. You’ve imagined this moment for months, wondered how it’d feel, but nothing your imagination conjured up could ever compare to the real thing.

Logan’s kisses are passionate, eager. He lifts your entire body into his lap in one, quick motion. The causal display of his sheer strength causes your body to melt into him. Your choked gasp is swallowed by his lips, his tongue licking at yours and oh, the wetness of it sends a wave of flutters straight to your cunt.

His mouth is harsh, the scruff of his beard scratching at your chin with a tasteful burn. His rough hand leaves your thigh to snake into your hair, wrapping the strands around his fingers until a messy ponytail forms. Without warning, he tugs firmly to pull you from his mouth.

He watches as your eyes fly open, as a string of saliva connects from his lips to yours. He feels pride thrum within his chest as you try to lean in immediately, chasing the taste of him, his kiss, his tongue.

Logan doesn’t allow you though, yanking at your hair to keep you in place.

“Not speaking now, are you?” Logan grunts out, tugging your head back so he can lick a hot, wet stripe up the expanse of your neck. He sucks at the skin there, hips threatening to thrust up at the moans spilling from your open mouth. “Finally found a way to keep you fuckin’ quiet.”

“Logan—“ you start, mind cloudy with the overwhelming feeling of his wet mouth on your skin, but he just smashes his lips on yours again.

And holy fuck, the way he’s kissing you, like he’s been starved of a meal and you’re the only thing edible, like he can’t get enough of your taste, has your panties growing even wetter. You snake your arms around Logan’s neck tightly, hips swiveling down in his lap so you can rub yourself over his bulge.

Your moan tangles with the surprised groan from Logan when your center grinds down on his cock, the feeling indescribable, utterly intoxicating and above all— right. It feels so fucking right.

His hand releases your hair in favor of grabbing handfuls of your ass and squeezing, guiding your hips as he licks at the roof of your mouth.

Its almost embarrassing how riled up you are with just kissing and humping, but you can’t be blamed, not really. Not with the way Logan’s dragging your cunt along his hard cock as he sucks your tongue— it’s so fucking good that his pants are wet with your lust, even through your panties and his pants.

When you finally pull back, it’s with his bottom lip tucked between your teeth, enticing a hiss from the man as you bite down. You lose your hands in his messy hair, tugging until his eyes open and fuck— his pupils are huge, dark with need for you.

Cradling his cheeks, you release and lick at his lip, soothing the sting your teeth left. You startle as Logan thrusts up in reaction, the head of him tapping your clit, and despite the barriers between you, it feels fucking amazing.

Logan catches your lips in a messy, slick embrace. There’s no gentleness, only pure sensuality leading his bruising kisses. You get so wrapped up in the pleasure of Logan’s mouth on yours, his cock rutting into your clothed center so delectably, that time is lost.

When you push Logan’s face away, it’s because your lungs burn with the need for oxygen.

Logan’s unfazed, lips moving down your throat and leaving wet kisses across your neck. You’re sucking in oxygen desperately, hands shaky as they stroke up and down Logan’s back. You want to remember every inch of him, that’s how addicting it is to touch his skin.

“Fuck, I can smell you.” He mutters against your collarbone, rough hands roaming all over your body, as if he needs to memorize the feel of you.

“Yeah?”

You’re a fucking mess— hands wrappped tightly around the back of his neck, leaving scratches that stay for longer than they would’ve decades prior, and you’re still rolling your hips in his lap, trying and failing to ease the ache in your cunt. It only further intensifies the achy throbbing with each grind of restless hips.

“Smells so fuckin’ sweet. Gonna let me have a taste, baby?”

“Yes! Please, Logan, please.” You’re far too gone, too drunk on the feel of his lips on your chest to care how pathetic you sound.

You lean back, grabbing Logan’s face to meet yours, sighing softly as your wet lips melt together once more. He groans, one hand coming up to tangle in your hair, tugging hard as he turns your head any way he pleases, using you. It’s then you realize you’d let him do anything to you.

You’re not sure how much time passes as Logan devours your mouth, it could be mere minutes or hours, but you’ve been too tangled up in his to care. What you do know is that you feel as though you’re going to explode if you don’t relieve the pressure in your pussy soon.

You’re whining, pawing at Logan’s chest and rubbing your wetness on the pant of his thigh, trying to get the man to touch you moremoremore.

But Logan’s too occupied with sucking on your tongue and biting your bottom lip meanly. He uses the grip he has on your hair to keep you there, rendered useless as he messily kisses you breatheless.

“Logan, Logan, Logan.” You moan and even though it’s mumbled into his own lips, he hears you all the same. “Need you. Please.”

And then, it’s like Logan’s realizing the current situation— you, a whimpering mess and rubbing your cunt along his lap as your spit soaked lips mesh with his own in a delicious, salacious embrace. You, who he knows he can’t afford to lose, and if he continues touching you, you’ll fade away like everything else good in his life.

He pushes your face back, but makes no move to remove your weight from his body. A frown settles over your blissed out features, dread replacing the butterflies fluttering about inside you.

“Logan?”

“You don’t want this.” He’s refusing to look at you, his hazel eyes blown out with pleasure wondering around the interior of the limousine as if he hasn’t seen it before.

“I do. I want this. I want you.” You cradle his bearded face in your hands, thumbs caressing the prickly grays scattered across his cheeks. “I do.”

“No, baby. You don’t, you deserve so much better—“

His words are lost in the air as you connect your swollen lips with his. You bully your tongue inside, swiping along his, sighing when his hips buck up at your boldness. The action has his cock rutting your covered clit in such an angle that you could probably come just like that.

“Can’t you feel how badly I want you?” You whisper, peppering sweet kisses along his cheeks, nose, eyelids. Staring into his eyes, so muddled with conflict and something sweeter, you kiss him again.

“Shit,” he groans into your mouth, tongues dancing in a pace that has you dizzy, whimpering inside mouth as your lace covered mound ruts at his thigh. “Can’t baby. You deserve someone better, not some old fucking man who’s done more harm than good.”

“I don’t need better, I need you.” You emphasize the point by grabbing his hand and shoving them down your panties.

A symphony of your shared moans ricochets through the small space; you, at the feel of his rough, thick fingers finally touching your slit. Logan, at the feel of your sweet, sweet arousal soaking your cunt slippery.

He squeezes his eyes shut, trying to find any excuse as to why he should push you away when kissing you, touching you feels this fucking good. Even as his brain works, his fingers tease your fluttering hole and collect your wetness and dragging it to your clit.

“See? I need you, please. Logan, please.”

You stare up at him, eyes wide with so many feelings that cause his heart to pump faster and his cock to jerk.

He seals his fate then and there— Logan’s sick and tired of all the bad in his life, and he doesn’t know much, but what he does know is that you make him feel like he’s good, like he’s fated for something other than drowning in whiskey. And he’s sick of denying himself of you.

“Fuck it.” He mutters, eyes on your lips before melting into you, lips meshing together wetly.

Your moan is loud and sweet, hands leaving his face in favor of gripping his shoulders, nails digging into the crisp white of the fabric there.

He pulls back, ignoring the need washing over him at the mewl falling from you at the sudden removal of him.

“Shh, baby.” He soothes, a large hand finding purchase on your chin, his fingers teasing your lips and rubbing the saliva there. “Open up.”

The quickness at which you obey him makes him want to impale you with his cock then, but he just barely restrains. Your lips are parted, tongue peaking out and waiting; the picture you paint will be a reoccurring dream for him, forever.

Logan leans over you before spitting onto your tongue, watching as the saliva glistens in your mouth. You gasp, the act so incredibly dirty and carnal that you shiver in his lap.

“Swallow.” He commands, squeezing your cheeks together, nearly getting lost in the dazed, euphoric look in your eyes. And you do, because of course you do. ”Atta girl.”

A sob nearly escapes you at that you’re so turned on beyond belief that you’ll burst into tears if Logan doesn’t fuck you soon.

Almost like he can read your mind, he moves you around until your back hits the cool, chilly leather of the seat. He settles himself on the floor of the limousine before you, ignoring the aches he feels stinging his lower back. The pain lingering in his bones becomes a background noise when he looks at you— as if just one look from you heals wounds deep within him.

Logan runs his hands along your legs slowly, teasingly as he presses a kiss on your upper thigh.

“Been dreaming of this pussy for so long.” He starts, leaning until your covered mound is warm with his breath. You’re trembling, suspense hot in your stomach as you wait for him to do something. “Everytime you get in the car, I can smell you. And everytime, I want to fucking eat you out.”

“Logan, please.” You cry out, his filthy words making you dizzy with desire.

And seeing you, someone who’s so unabashedly themselves and talkative be reduced to a withering mess, has a grin threatening to grace his face.

“I got you, baby. Gonna take care of you.”

And he does.

Logan presses a soft, barely there kiss to your lace covered slit before licking a slow, warm path from your hole to your aching clit.

“Oh my god!” You cry out, thighs trying and failing to clench closed as Logan’s hands keep them spread open. He groans at your taste, the hint of something so entirely you.

He grabs each thigh and wraps them around his neck before pulling the sodden material aside with his thumb to finally expose your pussy to him.

And at the sight of your cunt glistening with slick, with unsuppressed desire, makes him fucking lose it.

“She’s so wet, fucking dripping everywhere,” groans, and it takes your muddled brain a second before realizing he’s talking about your pussy.

A moan falls from you, deep from your chest and full of need and hunger as Logan’s tongue swirls over your slit, dipping into your dripping hole. He’s messy as he eats you out, completely driven by a primal urge to completely devour you in the most intimate sense. His movements are rash, his appetite stronger than anything else.

Logan leans back a bit, eyes flickering to yours to ensure you’re focused on him before he spits directly onto your pussy.

A gasp sounds, your chest heaving at the warmth of his saliva coating your center, and it’s so dirty, so insanely hot that it only causes more slick seeps from you.

Logan leans back, ignoring your whine as he uses his thumbs to spread your pussy wide open, your sex bare to him. Its obscene, the way he stares at the mixture of saliva and slick glistening your slit. It’s a sight, your cunt crying for him and clenching around nothing as your hips try to buck at his mouth.

Logan laps it all up, tongue flat as he greedily licks up and down your sex. And you’re losing it— not only is his tongue fucking you, going as deep as he can, but Logan’s nose is also bumping against your clit with each thrust of his mouth. Warmth swarms in your stomach and your thighs shake with a promise of an orgasm in the distance.

“Feels so good!” You manage, your hips thrusting up into his face.

You were right— the beard feels fucking amazing rubbing mean and unforgiving against the sensitive skin of your thighs, against your slit.

“Tastes so good, the sweetest thing I’ve ever tasted.” Logan moans, replacing his tongue with two fingers. His cock hardens even more with the way your cunt swallows his fingers right away, your warm, wet walls squeezing around them.

That familiar burn swelters in your pelvis, pure heat sizzling through your veins and for a moment, you forget to breathe. It gets worse when Logan suddenly wraps his swollen lips around your puffy clit and sucks.

The pleasure of it all is so sudden that it smothers you entirely— your back arches off the leather, your pussy convulsing as Logan’s fingers and tongue work you to an orgasm quicker than you ever have before.

“Logan, Logan.” You pant, hands tugging the graying tufts of hair, and you’re unsure if you’re trying to push him impossibly closer and away at the same time.

He only releases his suction on your clit when tears prickle your eyes, when you shake on his fingers from the stimulation of it all. He gently places a kiss to your clit, smiling when you jolt. His lips travel along your sweaty thighs, hands stroking your calves as you struggle to breathe.

“That’s it, honey. I got you.”

“Come here,” is all you have the strength to muster, needing his lips on yours instead of your trembling thighs.

Logan obliges, because if you asked him to get you the moon, he’d do his damn hardest to get it.

“Hi,” you whisper once he’s level with you, body slotted between your limp one. Your arms move without your knowledge, wrapping comfortably around his nape.

“Hi, baby.” His voice is deeper, almost as if he’s completely blissed out on the taste of your pussy and come.

It’s then you see how insane he looks— his chin, lips, and the tip of his nose is wet, completely soaked with you. His eyes are wild, hazy with need and his hair is messy from wandering fingers. He looks so incredibly handsome right now, in your arms, covered in you that you can’t be blamed for the moan that escapes.

You tug him close, lips locking in a newly familiar kiss. The taste of you envelopes over your tongue as you lick along his mouth, a satisfied hum vibrating from your lips to his.

What starts as a sweet, lazy kiss turns heated quickly, and though you’ve just come, your sex aches to be filled. It’s a mess of tongues and saliva, teeth clashing as your lips interlock and wrap around one another.

Your hands begin to unbutton his shirt, marveling at the feel of muscle that’s revealed with each pop of a button. You shrug the fabric off and grab at his shoulders, nails digging into the skin and trailing down to the middle of his back.

“Fuck!” Logan groans, biting your bottom lip as you scratch at him.

Instead of responding, you push at his chest until he falls into the seat across yours before throwing yourself in his lap again. You’re crazed, an unsatisfied hunger clinging to every inch of you and threatening to overtake your senses.

“Always so damn bossy.” He’s taunting you, but with the way his dick jolts as you yank your dress off, you know you’ve got him right where you want him.

You gaze at him, guiding his hands from your hips to your chest, urging him to take off your bra.

Logan’s too impatient to actually remove the fabric though, because he simply pulls at the cups until they give way to the pressure and your breasts pool over the band.

“So fuckin’ pretty.” He groans, leaning down and taking a pebbled nipple between his lips. You whine as he sucks, his fingers rubbing and pulling your other nipple. He switches his attention between both for a while and desire pools in your stomach, heat tingles across your skin, and you can’t wait any longer.

With quick hands, you work to undo his buckle before yanking down his boxers and dress pants in one motion, leaving them in a mess at his ankles. Logan releases your chest in favor of watching you nearly drool at his cock.

He’s huge. The tip is flushed, red and swollen, dripping pearly white bubbles from the slit. His shaft is thick with veins leading down to a patch of short, curled hair at the base. Even in the dim light of the limousine, you note how the vein on his lower stomach connects to the ones decorating his cock. Fuck, you suddenly want to feel the heaviness of him on your tongue and you’d ignore your own needs to choke on the entirety of him. You crave his taste, his come, and—

“Next time, baby.” Logan startles you from your filthy thoughts, and you actually whine at his words. “As much as I’d like to fuck your pretty mouth, I need to be inside you.”

And despite the fact that the man has eaten you out and stolen an orgasm already, you flush with warmth.

Logan finds you amusing, his hand wrapping around the base of his cock and yanking you until your hole is kissing his tip. Your hips move forward, and a whole body shiver wracks through you when your clit brushes his shaft.

“C’mon, princess. Show me how bad you want it.” He emphasizes his taunt with a squeeze of your waist, his lips brushing yours. “Not so cocky now, huh?”

With a glare, you push his hand away and wrap yours around his cock, guiding it to your wet, slick hole. Logan merely raises an eyebrow as your other hand grips his shoulder to lift yourself up enough. Without warning, you sink down onto the the tip of him, nails digging into his shoulder at the overwhelming feel bubbling over you.

“Fuck,” Logan growls, head leaning forward onto your shoulder as you squeeze around him purposefully, cunt sucking him down bit by bit as you lower yourself, only stopping when he fills you to the brim.

“Not so cocky now, huh?” You huff, a grin on your flushed face as you repeat his previous words back at him.

Logan doesn’t respond, to focused on not coming immediately— you’re so fucking tight, so wet and warm that he’s struggling.

The stretch is painful, but not unpleasant as you adjust to his size. When the burn fades away and instead comes a delicious thrum, you unleash.

You lift your hips up, enticing a broken moan from Logan as you move up and slam back down in slow, articulated motions.

“Feel so good, baby. So good.”

“Yeah?” You say, hands creeping into his hair to pull each time his tip brushes that spot inside you.

“Yeah.” The kiss he presses to your cheek makes your heart flutter, an act so pure in the midst it all.

You continue your torturous pace, pride warming your chest when Logan’s hands tighten on your hips, urging you to go faster.

You could go faster, but you like the way Logan looks like he’s struggling to suck in oxygen each time his cock returns to your hole.

You catch his mouth in an open, wet kiss. He grunts, and before you can even think, Logan moves his hips upwards and you cry out.

Oh.

Oh.

Suddenly, Logan’s stripped you of control and thrusts his cock deep inside you in quick, harsh movements. You’re fucking dripping, desire slicking your thighs and Logan’s. He feels so good and he’s so deep and he’s holding you in place so you have no choice but to take it, take the assaulting pace he’s set.

“Shit,” Logan grits out, arms tightly wrapped around your midsection as he fucks you from below. “This is what you wanted?”

You’re so overcome with euphoria, so deeply gone in the waves of pleasure, that you can only nod. Each time he’s fucks up into you, his pubic bone brushes your swollen, pulsing clit in a delicious graze that has tears gathering at your lash line.

“This is what you wanted? For me to fuck you dumb?” He mutters between clenched teeth, his hips moving in a deadly way now. “You just wanted to be fucking full of me, huh?”

“Yes!” You mewl, mouth falling onto his as your tongues messily swirl around, moans and groans mixing with the wet kisses.

The pressure building in your abdomen is almost too much, teasing you each time his cock slams inside. Despite being as close as physically possible, you ache to be closer.

You stop Logan, lifting yourself off him with a hiss. The sudden absence of him leaves you feeling uncomfortably empty and unconsciously, your hole clenches as wetness drips from you and onto the leather seats.

“What’s wro—“ you cut him off by pushing him until he’s laying back on the long seat. Once he’s settled down, as shock paints his expression, you climb shakily back onto his lap.

Sighs of relief echo through the air as your cunt sucks him down and a filthy squelch sounds. With him like this, he’s somehow deeper. You’re so incredibly full, it feels unreal.

The tingling, sweltering sensation in your cunt has you grinding across his lap, the base of his cock rubbing your clit delicately.

“Fuck. Doin so good for me.” Logan bends an arm behind his head so he can watch the way your eyes roll back with each grind, the way your tits jostle with each thrust and hump. “That’s it, baby.”

His praise has you finding a delicious, intoxicating rhythm as you lift up and down, up and down. The ridges and veins of his shaft kiss your walls and your thighs tremble with the feeling. Your hands reach back and grip your asscheeks to pull them apart further, needing his cock to go even deeper.

Logan is enamored by the sight before him— his pretty girl desperately splitting her cunt onto his cock, eyes rolling back with spit-slicked lips resembling an ‘o’.

His hand wraps around your throat tightly, pulling you down until your chest is flush against his. The action has you clumsy, arms swinging out to grip whatever is nearest to steady yourself. He places both hands across your ass and lifts you like you weigh nothing, mimicking your previous thrusts with more force, more speed.

A harmony of ‘uh, uh’s’ filter through his ears as Logan uses you and fucks you down onto his cock. You’re a whining mess, latching onto him tightly as his hips start to thrust upwards, his hands slamming your hips back down.

Suddenly, he wishes that he had his phone close because seeing you like this is a sight he wants to capture forever.

“C’mon, baby. Can feel how close you are.” He grits out between thrusts. One hand leaves your ass to cradle your slackened jaw, gripping tight enough as he forces your eyes on his.

Logan pushes his thumb past your lips and a deep moan falls from him as you suck at his finger. With your gaze never leaving his, you mimic a blowjob as you suck and swirl your tongue along his thumb.

“Mine.” Logan moans, his digit pressing down onto your tongue. He feels a sick sense of pleasure envelope him as you gag at the pressure, eyes glittering with unshed tears. “My fuckin’ girl.”

You nod instantly, a sweet, gooey feeling spreading across your chest at his words, at his voice. You pathetically grind down as Logan fucks upward, spit glistening your lips and his thumb as you messily suck on him.

An overbearing urge to get you to climax surges within him, and he sighs mockingly when you groan as his thumb slips from the confines of your pretty mouth. With a new vigor, Logan fucks you harder, faster, dirtier. He slips a hand between your sweaty bodies and when his fingers swirl over your clit, you explode.

The roughness of his hips, the precision of his fingertips on your clit, and the intensity of the moment catches up with you and you’re coming abruptly. It’s intense, the way a maddening bliss coats your entire body and soul. It leaves you breathless and dizzy as your eyes prickle with spots along your vision.

You’re moaning, words unintelligible against the warmth of Logan’s chest, and your cunt squeezes around him in sharp, sporadic pulses.

Logan’s so close to losing it and you don’t even realize it, too busy trying to inhale oxygen into greedy lungs. Huffs tumble from you, but instead of really trying to breathe, you lift your face to pepper wet, open mouthed kisses across his torso and that does it for him.

“Fuck…” Logan moans, gutteral and rough as he slams your hips down onto his cock, his cock painting your walls with come as euphoria encompasses him entirely. “Fuck, baby.”

Your body feels like it’s on fire— clit throbbing with overstimulation as Logan’s cock continues to fill you to the brim with his orgasm. Tears of pleasure have spilled over the apples of your cheeks, the strands of your hair sticking to your sweaty, flushed face.

You continue to gently kiss up his chest and neck before you move to hold Logan’s face. Eyes fill with astonishment as you take in the way his eyes roll with the aftershocks of his peak. Thumbing at his cheeks, you kiss his lips gently before pressing kisses all along his face. His cheeks, the slope of his nose, his chin, forehead, and even the furrow of his brows.

You don’t even notice Logan staring at you with complete adoration until he removes your hand to kiss your palm.

You smile at him, bashful even with his softening cock is still inside you, stuffing you full of his come.

“C’mere.” He says, pulling you close until your lips melt over one another’s in a sweet, passionate kiss.

With a sudden thought, you pull away and fix him with a stern stare. Unfortunately for you, the furrow of your brows and purse of your lips only causes his heart to beat faster beneath the adamantium ribcage. You just look so pretty right now, sitting atop of him breathless and sweaty, a glaze settled over your irises.

“What's that face for?” His brow is raised and a smile is teasing his swollen lips.

“No more pushing me away, Logan.”

His gaze softens then, reminded of his self sabotage and the way he’s been adamant in keeping you at arms length, despite his yearn for more, his need for you.

“No more pushing you away, baby.” His lips meet yours softly, finality in his tone that eases your worries and wandering thoughts.

You lay your head down in the crook of his neck and hug him, intent to never let him go. Logan’s heart clenches with an emotion he’s not quite yet ready to face, so instead he presses a kiss to your hairline as his fingers stroke your back.

The atmosphere is no longer tense, but rather peaceful as every single desire has finally been satiated to the point of calmness. Eventually, he knows he’ll have to pull away from you and actually drive you home (and he will be coming inside, he can’t wait to properly fuck you in your bed), but he wants to stay in your embrace a little longer. It’s a blissful moment, and the serenity of it is something he hasn’t felt in a long, long time.

“Logan?” You whisper, tired as you rub your nose along his neck.

“Yeah, honey.”

“I didn’t give that guy my number… I actually told him to fuck off.”

And when you say it with a slightly guilty tone, a laugh rumbles deep from his chest. He doesn’t care, because that little white lie caused him to finally say fuck it and allow you both to have each other, after months of built up tension and horribly hidden feelings.

The feeling you erupt in his chest is foreign and it scares him— but with the weight of you in his arms, he knows he’ll do anything to keep you.

˚｡⋆⟡♡⟡⋆｡˚ fin

[hotchnerwrites]

Hiii🤍

Can you write something where Hotchner is obsessed with the reader but in a good way, like he can't keep his hands off of her???🥹maybe if you feel comfortable you can put a situation where he feels a little jealous,I love it so much when men are possessive in a gentle way with their partner!!!

Take this only if you feel comfortable, I send you my love!

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x reader

Word Count: 1.6k

Warnings: SFW, touchy obsessed Hotch, jealous Hotch, quiet intimate moments, domestic fluff ehehehe, no use of (y/n), reader is referred to as girlfriend/wife a couple times, established!relationship

A/N: My dear Anon, I am so sorry for the wait. I hope that this will be worth it. Some crazy stuff was happening in my family and I had to fly out of town last minute. I started this in my Notes app, and here we are, three versions later. I loved this request so much, I always jump at the chance to write fluff (or angst!). I had such a fun time writing. Oh how I wish Hotch was real :') Anyways, I really hope you like it! Enjoy reading 🤍

PS. Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays, and consider this my gift to you <3 Sending all of you all my love. Requests are open :) Send me stuff!

Dividers by @/cafekitsune

Smart, stoic Supervisory Special Agent Aaron Hotchner. One of the BAU’s best profilers. One of the best prosecutors Washington D.C. has ever seen. Permanent frown on his face and an impenetrable emotional wall, he was not known to wear his heart on his sleeve. It was a persona he had spent several years cultivating. But they didn’t know him like you did. They didn’t know how he was around you, how he looked at you. It wasn’t just that— it was the way he moved around you, the quiet insistence that you were always close, always near.

You first realised how present Hotch was at the FBI’s annual Christmas gala. It was so subtle in the beginning, the way Aaron threaded through the room with you, a steady hand on your back, palm warm against your skin. It was the kind of touch that was imperceptible to anyone who wasn’t paying attention. But you felt it the entire night, four and a half hours in total. He didn’t let go of you once.

Despite this being the first formal event that you attended with Aaron, you never once felt anxious navigating the sea of handshakes and pleasantries. You met at least twenty new faces in under thirty minutes, forgetting names as fast as you learned them. Aaron’s hand was on your waist the entire time, steady and protective, guiding you through conversations, fending off curious coworkers with a soft, almost unnoticeable shift of his body between you and them. It was effortless- he even managed to hold both your drinks in one hand when you passed him something. 

By the end of the night, you realised something. You weren’t just his girlfriend; you were his partner, a quiet and unspoken claim that he did not need to announce.

The second thing that you noticed was the neck massages. It didn’t matter if Hotch had just come home from a week-long case or if it was a lazy Sunday. The moment he found you with your back to him - whether at the kitchen island, curled up with a book in an armchair, or even napping on the couch— he would materialise silently, his large hands moving to the nape of your neck.

It was a gentle pressure, expert fingers kneading the tension in your muscles. This was intimate in a wholesome way. He knew your body better than anyone, maybe even yourself. His palms were calloused and rough, but when they were touching you, it felt like the finest silk on earth. 

When his hands drew delicate circles, your world would fade away in contentment. Sometimes, Aaron would press his lips lightly against your temple. These quiet moments are as precious to you as special nights out. 

The third time was the ‘Lunch Incident’. You laugh about it now, but it’s not lost on you how lucky you are to see this side of Hotch. It was supposed to be a simple lunch drop-off at the office. As you greeted Emily and Derek, Aaron strode over towards you, legs moving so fast you’re sure his brain hadn’t even fully processed his actions. His smile when he saw you wasn’t just a casual ‘hello’ but something deeper, something more felt. And when he pressed a soft kiss against your lips, with that signature intensity, you noticed Agent Anderson nearly dropping his coffee in pure shock. The poor man, having just witnessed Hotch, the ever-professional Hotch, kiss his partner like he had no other care in the world, had gone pale. You couldn’t stop the grin stretching across your face. Hotch didn’t stop looking at you the entire time. Sometimes, he couldn’t believe you were real and that you were his. 

The fourth time, you just knew. It was a ritual, the movie nights. When you settled on the couch, ready for your favourite period film, you already knew how it would go. Ever so meticulous, Aaron would drape your favourite blanket over the two of you. But there was just something about the way he did it. He pulled you to his side, wrapping an arm around your shoulders like he needed you there more than he needed to breathe. And you’d fit yourself under his arm, cosy and safe, while the movie played. But truthfully, it was never the movie that held his attention. It was you. The way you reacted to every scene. The tiny furrow between your brows when something sad happened or the way your eyes sparkled during particularly romantic scenes. Aaron would never say this out loud, but he couldn’t care less about the films you watched. He cared about you. Watching you breathe, tracing circles on your shoulders, memorising the feel of your skin under his touch. He was always watching you, though you never caught him. 

And Hotch never made a big deal about it, but you knew those small touches meant the world to him. He was the profiler, but you noticed his antics too. When you handed him something, his fingers would always brush yours, slow and deliberate. You felt that electric spark dance across your skin each time, like he was quietly staking his claim. You always pretended not to notice, but in truth, you were just as addicted to those touches as he was. The way his hand lingered for a second too long, soft warm spreading from his touch. The kind of touch that made you feel like you were the only two people in the room. 

Honestly, it was getting ridiculous. He set his alarm early every day, just to spend an extra couple of minutes cuddling you. The moment that familiar tune rang out, he’d shift his broad frame, tangle his limbs with yours and pull you closer. Aaron never wanted this to end. So much so that he called in sick a few times, citing your refusal to free him from your clutches as the reason. But you both knew it was because he wanted to feel your hands card through his hair longer as he dozed on your chest. Neither of you said much during times like this. Still groggy from sleep, you both would just bask in each other’s quiet comfort. 

One day, when you were cleaning up his desk, you found it. The secret file. Tucked away in the back of one drawer lay a brown file with your name on it. You really hadn’t meant to snoop, but curiosity overrode manners at that moment. It wasn’t until you opened it that you realised what it exactly was. It was every story you had told Aaron about yourself, and every detail he noticed about you. Likes. Dislikes. Pet peeves. Your dreams. Your favourite songs. The small things—things no one else would have thought to note down, things only someone who really knew you would remember. He’d colour-coded it, as if it was a map of your soul.

You hadn’t meant to look through it, but when you did, a lump formed in your throat. It wasn’t a secret—just his way of keeping you close. And you realised, with a sniffle, that you’d never felt more cherished in your entire life.

When winter would roll around, you realised that despite spending years with this man, you could never quite predict when it would happen. But every time it did, you pretended to protest. Hotch would press his palms under your shirt, claiming that his fingers were frozen. This was always an assault on your senses. “I’m freezing!” you’d yell, but you knew what he was doing. He wasn’t trying to warm his hands. He wanted to feel your skin against his. You never pointed out the fact that his palms were always warm within seconds, that his body was a natural space heater. No, instead, you let him pull you in even closer, shivering as his hands traced light lines up your spine. You didn’t mind it at all.

Bonus

There was only one time that Aaron used his Unit Chief voice around you. It was something he had always been careful to avoid; he hated bringing any aspect of work home with him. But it was warranted that time, he justified. 

He had just stepped away for one second from your side at the local café. The barista had just called out your names, and he had gone to pick up your drinks (black coffee for him, surprise, surprise, and a ridiculously sweet frappé for you). In those few moments that he was gone and you’d been standing alone, staring wistfully at the pastries on display, a man had sidled up to you. He had a patchy ginger beard, and with a reedy voice, he had asked you if he could buy you coffee. In hindsight, the man had been perfectly polite, but Aaron’s blood had boiled. You had a gobsmacked expression on your face as you struggled to respond, and the man had stepped even closer. Aaron quickly snatched up your order and made his way to you. 

“Here’s your drink, honey,” Aaron said, voice low but tone soft. You gratefully accept the distraction as the man swings his head towards Aaron incredulously.

“Excuse me,” he began shrilly, “do you mind?”

Aaron fixed him with a Look. “That’s my wife you’re talking to. Can I help you in any way?” He said coolly. 

The man baulked, muttered a quick apology and scrambled off. 

As you and Aaron leave the café hand-in-hand, you can’t help the smile forming on your face. You tuck your face into Aaron’s bicep to hide your blush. 

Wife. Not girlfriend. Wife.

The sun suddenly shone brighter that day.

Thank you for reading. Likes, reblogs, comments and follows are appreciated! Constructive criticism is welcome :) Do not plagiarise my content and/or post it anywhere without crediting me.

[incognit0slut]

hi! what about this: some time after spencer comes home from prison, he finds some toys reader had bought for herself since he'd been in prison for so long. he tells reader that if she was needy enough to do anything without him, she can do it again, without him. he orders her to show him what she was doing when he was gone. you can definitely include edging and/or overstimulation as well as degradation, of course if you're comfortable with that <3 also, if it's not a problem, since it would be a sub/dom dynamic there could be aftercare included, but it depends on what you feel like writing.

anyway, thank you and i hope you're having a great day 🌺

(18+) Dom Spence x fem reader. 1.3k. Sex toy. Squirting.

Spencer forces you to give him a show when he discovers your secret.

-

Spencer wasn't trying to be evil, he really wasn't, but there was a twisted satisfaction witnessing your vulnerability. Maybe it was the sense of power over you, or perhaps you were simply captivating, but whatever the reason, he found himself drawn to the sight of you lying in bed, legs spread apart.

He watched intently as the toy disappeared into your cunt, moving in and out, each thrust met with the tight clenching of your walls. He never imagined he'd witness you finding satisfaction with anything other than him, yet, if he were honest with himself, the sight aroused him more than it angered him.

You had been going at it for a while now—no, he forced you to do it. Though "force" might not be the right choice of word, because as embarrassed as you were by his discovery of the toy you forgot even existed, the pleasure clouded your mind, and you found yourself enjoying giving him a show far too much to stop.

“Is this what you’ve been up to while I’ve been gone?” Spencer taunted, leaning back in the chair positioned at the foot of the bed.

Your response caught in your throat as your climax edged closer. With a sense of urgency, you increased the speed of your hand, plunging the toy in and out of your dripping cunt with increasing desperation, the echoes of your arousal filling the room.

“Answer me,” he urged. “Keep your eyes on me and answer the question.”

With a shiver running down your spine, you forced yourself to meet his intense gaze, feeling exposed and vulnerable under his scrutiny.

“I… I needed…” you stammered, struggling to form coherent words amidst the rising tide of sensation.

“Needed what?” he pressed.

You swallowed hard. “I needed… to feel something,” you admitted. “I needed… release.”

“And you couldn’t wait for me?”

“I… I’m… sorry,” you confessed, each word punctuated by a gasp as the toy drove you closer to the edge. “I couldn’t… without… you…”

The room fell into a heavy silence, broken only by the sound of your ragged breaths and the faint hum of the toy. Then, his voice cut through the air. “Do you need me now?”

You nodded, unable to tear your gaze away from his piercing eyes. “Yes,” you whispered, your voice raw with longing. “I-I need you.”

His lips curved into a knowing smile, the hint of a smirk playing at the corners. “Hmm,” he hummed, his voice low and teasing. “That’s too bad because I’m quite enjoying the view.”

You squirmed under his gaze, feeling exposed and vulnerable yet undeniably aroused by his control.

“Please,” you pleaded, your voice trembling with need. “I can’t… I can’t take it anymore. I-I need you.”

A flicker of something akin to sympathy crossed his features, but it was quickly replaced by a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Oh, I know you do,” he replied. “But where’s the fun in giving you what you want so easily?”

You bit your lip, torn between frustration and arousal. “Please,” you pleaded again, your voice barely a whisper, “Don’t tease me like this.”

His smirk widened, clearly enjoying the power he held over you. “You’ll have to beg a little harder than that,” he whispered. “Show me how much you need me.”

Your heart raced at his words, the intensity of his gaze igniting a fiery need within you. Without hesitation, you spread your legs further apart, the movement allowing him an unobstructed view of the way your cunt clenched around the toy, your arousal evident in the slickness coating it.

A satisfied groan escaped his lips at the sight, his hand instinctively finding its way to his strained arousal beneath his pants. “I’ll tell you what,” he muttered, gripping himself. “Make yourself come and I’ll give you what you want.”

A whine broke put of you. “I…”

“If you were needy enough to satisfy yourself without me, you can do it again now.”

Your heart was beating fast against your chest, yet you found yourself nodding.

“Three times,” he continued. “Give me three orgasms.”

Your breath hitched at his words. “Three?” You squeaked.

“Three,” he affirmed, his voice low and commanding.

You swallowed hard, feeling a surge of anticipation mingled with apprehension. The thought of achieving such intense pleasure under his watchful gaze both thrilled and intimidated you. But the promise of his reward spurred you on, driving you to arch your back and chase after your first orgasm.

It came fast and fierce, crashing over you with an intensity that left you breathless. Your toes curled in ecstasy, and a blush spread across your cheeks as you surrendered to the waves of pleasure, knowing that he was watching your every move.

“You’re doing so well,” he praised, his voice thick with desire. “Give me another.”

Your eyes fluttered open again, and you whimpered, determined not to give yourself a break. The faster you obliged, the quicker he would fuck you. So you pushed yourself even further, ignoring the burning sensation as the toy thrusts in and out of you relentlessly.

And then, as it hit that very deep spot inside you, your legs began to shake, spreading even wider in response to the overwhelming sensation. The pleasure surged through you like a tidal wave, from your head down to your toes, and his name escaped your lips in a breathless whisper.

He grunted as he rubbed himself through his pants. “One more, sweetheart, you can take it, just one more.”

You gasped, still reeling from the intensity of the previous climax. “I… I can’t.”

“Yes, you can,” he insisted. “I know you can.”

Despite the lingering waves of pleasure still washing over you, you steeled yourself for one final effort. Gritting your teeth, you resumed the frantic pace, driving the toy deep inside you.

The sensations intensified, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body. Your breath grew ragged, your heart pounding in your chest as you neared the edge once again.

As the pleasure built within you, there was a sudden, unfamiliar intensity to the sensation. It coiled in your stomach, sending a surge of urgency coursing through your veins. You whimpered softly, a mix of desire and apprehension knotting in your stomach.

You knew what was coming, and so did he, because his grip on his cock tightened, a hunger burning in his eyes. “That’s it,” he murmured. “Give it to me, baby. Just let it out.”

Despite your embarrassment, you couldn’t hold back any longer. With a gasp, you finally surrendered, feeling a rush of fluid escaping your body as you reached your high. The force of the liquid pushed the toy out of you, and you gasped, your body arching involuntarily in response to the overwhelming sensation. Your back arched, your head thrown back, and your eyes closed, letting the intense pleasure consume you entirely.

Every nerve ending seemed to tingle with ecstasy as the wave of release washed over you, leaving you trembling and breathless. With a shuddering breath, you collapsed onto the bed, spent and satisfied, your body buzzing with the aftershocks of your climax.

In the haze of post-orgasmic bliss, you felt his presence beside you, his arms wrapping around you in a comforting embrace. You steadied your breathing as he pulled you closer, his lips pressing gentle kisses against your sweaty face.

“See?” he murmured, his voice filled with pride. “I knew you could do it.”

With a contented sigh, you nuzzled closer to him, reveling in his warmth. “Will you fuck me now?”

He laughed, the sound rich and full of affection. “Maybe we should wait for a while, let you calm down.”

You pulled back and gave him a look. “Spencer.”

With a playful smirk, he leaned in to pepper soft kisses along your jawline, trailing down to your neck. The warmth of his lips against your skin sent shivers of anticipation through your body.

And then he slipped off his clothes, and when he finally settled between your legs, pushing his throbbing cock into your dripping walls, you cling onto him desperately. Because nothing could compare to the pleasure he brought you, leaving you feeling whole and complete in a way that no toy ever could.

[the-thing-withfeathers]

the archer’s arrow part 2 (w.a.)

are you hiding something?

part one | next part

a/n: teehee i am so sorry for the wait but i hope y’all enjoy this one <3

pairing: wednesday addams x female reader

warnings: mentions of blood & death

➶ ➶ ➶

thwip!

it was your arrow, definitely your arrow.

“go! wednesday! go!”

and your voice, definitely your voice.

wednesday gasped awake, sitting up instantaneously. she gripped her chest, bunching the fabric of her shirt up into a fist. her head turned to look at her alarm clock.

she was awake ahead of schedule but she was grateful she woke up when she did. she immediately got dressed, the stomping of her boots lining the walls of ophelia hall.

she reached your room, knocking thrice before stepping back.

you were already dressed, today was an early practice day.

“wednesday, you’re early.” you tilted your head, stepping aside to let her in anyways.

“i value punctuality.” she lied. she was getting better at coming up with them in her efforts to try and hide her true intentions from you.

a bit of her looked disheveled, like she had rushed to get there. you noticed her braid a little out of place and her socks mismatched— both black but definitely not from the same pair.

“right. well, let me finish this and i’ll be ready to go.” you took to your chair at your desk, settling back down.

wednesday noticed that there were a couple of envelopes littered across your desk. you were in the process of writing letters.

“you’re writing.” she pointed out.

“yes, wednesday. thats something i can do too.” you joked back, she remained stoic.

“what are the letters for?” she inquired.

“mainly family but also for some of my friends at the academy.”

“i understand your family lives remote but surely your friends have phones?” she furrowed her brows.

“they do, but we think letters hold more sentiment.” you clarified, scribbling more words onto the piece of parchment paper you had aquired. “and it’s always nice to receive things in the mail.” you shrugged.

“i suppose you might be right.” she agreed. you were surprised to hear her validation.

her eyes followed the ink that your pen left behind. it caught her attention particularly when you drew a heart next to someone’s name on the envelope.

you sealed the letter and then proceeded to stand, grabbing your gear from your closet. you opened the door for wednesday, allowing her to exit first.

you two walked side-by-side down to the practice range.

“did you have many friends at the academy?” she asked as you exited ophelia hall.

“many? not many. but a good handful. they were all very kind. i would love to know them forever.” you smiled, reminiscing at the memories you shared with them.

“any more than friends?” she asked, not looking at you. you looked at her with your lip curled. at the back of your mind, you questioned her curiosity about your romantic life.

“who’s asking?” you retaliated, a smirk plastered on your face. you glanced at her only to be met with a glare. you knew you would certainly meet your end if you left the question unanswered.

“yes, wednesday. i had a girlfriend.” you sighed, rubbing your eyes. it was a bit of a sore spot, this topic.

but wednesday cared not for sore spots.

“what happened?” she pryed further. why was she pushing those buttons so much?

the memories of her rejection flooded through your brain. she had no right to ask these things. you remember how the look on your face was probably the single most heartbreaking thing most of your fellow students have ever seen.

“why are you asking about this, wednesday?” you practically hissed at her.

“i’m not going to take advantage of your practice times and not get to know you.” she spat back.

“you… hm.” you paused. “i never thought i’d be answering questions from wednesday addams. you’ve changed too.”

“so answer them if my question intrigue you so much.” she continued walking at your pace.

“fine. we split up because i wanted to come back and we couldn’t do the long distance.” you answered openly. “but we’re still friends. she and i were very close, she helped me through a lot.”

you continued to stride towards the forest as wednesday simply watched you. you had someone, but were fine giving it all up to come back. the feeling opened a pit in her stomach, if only you had known what she was hiding.

—

she had taken a liking to your routines in the wilderness.

“i purposefully try to miss.”

you had told her that was the closest thing you could get to immersing yourself into your environment. murder of fauna in the nevermore woods was frowned upon, so you had to learn control.

“isn’t that counter productive?”

she asked back, but you proved her wrong. your control was incredible. nicking a squirrel by the hair of its tail, she watched the focus on your face as you tried to ensure it’s life.

“it’s harder to hunt down animals and make sure they live rather than die.”

today, she sat with a notebook. she said she just wanted to focus on writing up ideas for her novel while you practiced.

it was like she was your body double, just a shadow that lingered around while you did your thing. somehow, it worked. you felt more productive and so did she…

if she was working on her novel.

her pen glazed across the yellowed paper on her notebook. the ink morphed into the image of your bow. on paper, your body was facing the trees, arm reaching for an arrow from your quiver. wednesday captured your physique, how your body flexed with every move you made.

thwip!

wednesday did not flinch.

but she nearly did.

an arrow lodged into the tree trunk, directly above her head.

“i can literally feel your stare, wednesday. you’re making me nervous.” you teased. her eyes grew dark at you.

“try that again and you won’t have fingers to shoot an arrow with.”

you couldn’t help but smile at her empty threat. you knew wednesday more than either of you thought. you knew that she wouldn’t take your fingers, they would stay with you.

you drew your bow again, pointing an arrow straight at her jokingly.

“try me, addams!”

the statement made wednesday’s head shoot backwards, her eyes clouding over.

“try me addams!” you yelled at her. you were younger. your cheeks were fuller, you hadn’t quite grown into your face yet.

but there you were, back then, the object of wednesday addams’ affection. but she could never admit that then.

you were on your back, pinned against the ground with wednesday on top of you. she remembers this fondly, she was trying to steal back her hairties that you had stolen as a joke.

you were laughing. it was the most joyous she’d ever seen you. she didn’t know how she was getting that reaction from you.

she was reaching as you held the ties above your head, swinging your arm around to make sure she didn’t get it. she was growing frustrated.

she groaned and drove two of her fists down into your chest, robbing your body of air. you coughed as a response and caved in, handing her the hairties.

“okay addams!” you choked out, sitting up to be closer to the girl. you laughed softly, coming face to face with her. “i just wanted to play a prank on you.”

“pranks are a waste of your time. you have better things to do.” she said, standing up. “you’re going to be late for practice.” she looked down at you. you remained seated.

“they’re not a waste of my time if it means i get to spend time with you.” you said, honestly. sure, you were mildly flirting but you were geniune. wednesday didn’t know how to process the admitted desire for companionship. she returned the sentiment, but it wouldn’t come out of her.

“i’ll come to your practice then.” wednesday said, putting the hairties in her bag. “i’ll sit there and wait for you.” she held her hand out for you to take so she could help you up.

you grinned up at her from where you were.

that grin, she would have killed for it.

“deal!” you jumped up excitedly, a proud smile on your face. you took her hand to stabilise yourself.

and it was then she got her first vision of you.

you were older now. definitely older.

you were still in the forest, holding wednesday’s hand just like how you were in the real world.

your bow was in your left hand, like you had just come from battle. blood was dripping down from your ears.

you had blood staining your shirt. and it looked bad. something most people wouldn’t be able to recover from.

and it flickered between the image of your eyes crickling from how huge your smile was and the sight of you donning crimson in front of wednesday.

“wednesday!” you cried out to her, catching her in your arms.

and then she was back to reality.

“wednesday!”

a vision of a future in a vision of the past? that was new for her. her powers might have been trying to tell her something— something more urgent.

she remembers leaving you alone at practice that day, taking back her deal to you. she had to sit alone and process.

three days later, she broke your heart.

“you still get those often?” you asked, sitting her down against the tree trunk.

“of course i do.” she snapped, her conscience pounding from the double vision she just had.

“sorry, stupid question.” you said, regretfully. you sat in front of her, still holding her back to steady her. “do you want to talk about it?”

she hated how you cared.

“no.” she shook her head. “it was just… nothing. nothing important.”

“you and i both know your visions have saved countless lives, wednesday.” the way you said her name had her head reeling. “is there something we should be worrying about?”

“no… no.” she waved you off, pushing you away. you sat there nonetheless.

“okay well… are you feeling okay?” you worriedly questioned her.

“i would feel better if you stopped asking questions.”

you recoiled, knowing it was best not to provoke her like this. her heart twisted at your concern, they made her feel almost guilty for pushing you so far away.

she had broken you down slowly, she knew that now. you poured your heart into your affectionate manner, it was something that scared her.

you sat in silence, taking in your surroundings and letting her recover from the vision. you were around when she first started getting them, you knew how badly they affected her.

she almost wanted to apologise, tell you that she was sorry for snapping. but she couldn’t let you get close again.

“we should go soon, lunch is in 30 minutes.” you spoke up first, breaking the peace. she simply nodded at you, helping herself up. you followed suit, yanking the arrow you had previously stabbed into the tree out and putting it back into your quiver.

➶ ➶ ➶

you sat across from wednesday. she recalled a time you would fight for the seat beside her, but instead, you filled the space next to yoko.

“you’re already thinking about the rave’n?” you asked enid, munching away at your food in between sentences.

“of course i am!” enid jumped up. “it’s our last year here! we need to think about these things!” she turned to you and grabbed your hands.

“and it’ll be your first & last rave’n back! we have to make it good!” she squeezed your hands. you rolled your eyes but couldn’t hold back a smile.

“okay well, you’ll help me shop then.” you held your pinky up, which the blonde gladly took in her own.

“good! and you, wednesday?” enid turned to the shorter girl, tilting her head.

“my rave’n experiences haven’t exactly been pleasant, enid.” wednesday brushed her off. “maybe this is the year i skip out.”

“you shouldn’t. i would like you there if it’s my first one back and last one i’ll ever have.” you said, forgetting that such desires were usually turned down by wednesday.

but that was somehow enough to convince her.

“fine.” she grumbled, a contrast to the smile that was now stuck to your face.

“never thought that would be so easy. you must be the sentimental type, addams.” yoko commented. the mental image in wednesday’s head was her brutally bashing the vampire for saying that.

“do you know the theme?” you asked enid. the werewolf was finally asked to head the planning of the rave’n, she was perfect for the job.

“yup! since it’s halloween— we’re doing guts & gore!”

you swear you saw wednesday nearly crack a smile, this was right up her alley.

“and glitter!” enid added in, you were unsure if she was joking.

the joy on wednesday’s face faded slowly, you softly laughed at the change of expression.

“don’t worry, addams. i’m sure you’ll look fine bedazzled.” you joked, snickering. yoko laughed beside you.

she glowered at you, your smile persisted. did she no longer have an affect on you in these situations?

you really had grown.

“i would rather choke and die before covering myself in sparkles.” she took an angry bite of her food.

“don’t worry, wends, i’ll forgive you this once.” enid giggled. “gore is still your element, i’m sure it will be reminiscent of your first rave’n.“

“i heard about that.” you chimed in. “pig’s blood, right? maybe you can work with real blood this time, nobody seems to know the difference. and you’d probably enjoy that better.” you had said that almost too casually, it bothered her.

she was like an old book you hadn’t picked up yet still knew the insides and outs of.

“yes. maybe i will.” she answered briefly. you returned to your meal, finishing up and picking your bookbag up.

“gotta go, i have some botany homework to catch up on.” you said, turning to wednesday quickly. “did you want to join me for archery club later?” you asked.

she paused for a second, debating her answer.

“no, i can’t. i have homework i need to do in my room.” christ! why did she say that? she meant to say yes!

perhaps it was her defense mechanism, she wanted to keep you at arm’s length after what happened in the forest today. she needed some time to process.

“no worries. i’ll see you guys later!” you jogged off and waved as you left.

“is it weird hanging around her again?” yoko asked, she realised she hadn’t talked to wednesday about your return much.

“i suppose.” wednesday nodded. she had grown closer to yoko overtime, finding herself being honest towards her. “she’s changed a lot.”

“i mean, yeah. her entire environment changed in a whim. that makes you grow up.” yoko agreed. “you two seem to be getting along just fine.”

“indeed. but we can never go back to how we used to be.” wednesday tried to put up a front. “i’m sure she wouldn’t want that either.”

“given how you tore her heart in half last time you saw her? i wouldn’t put it past her.” yoko sighed, “but you can’t hold it against her forever.”

“i can and i will.” wednesday scoffed. yoko squinted at her.

“are you hiding something?” the vampire asked. yoko had an excellent talent for reading people, it infuriated the addams girl.

“no.” wednesday responded firmly, standing up abruptly and gathering her things. “i have to go. i’ll talk to you both later.”

enid and yoko shot each other worried looks.

wednesday stomped off to her room, a scowl evident on her face.

she hated this. all of it.

she hated that her visions were getting stronger, they were so loud that they were making her entire body hurt.

she hated that she would once again become responsible for saving someone, she was always thrust into the world of the weird. was it such a crime that she wanted some normalcy?

she hated you. she hated that she was forced to reject you in order to prevent your impending doom.

she hated you. she hated you for returning and making her feel things again.

she hated you. she hated that she was terrified of your death.

she hated you. she hated you. she hated you.

but she had to save you.

➶ ➶ ➶

author’s journal

okay i’m soooo sorry this took ages! and that this is relatively short! but i was in the middle of quitting my job and planning my christmas trip to see my family!

i’ll let y’all in on the reader’s powers more in the upcoming chapters but she is definitely a psychic!

i also am sooo excited for halloween!!! i’m going as wednesday this year and i also bought from the doc martens x wednesday collaboration so i’m so so keen on getting it in.

i hope you guys enjoyed this chapter & hopefully chapter 3 will be out before you all know it!

kisses xx

[javiercigsrete]

Bad idea

dbf!joel x f!reader.

dividers by @saradika-graphics

main masterlist

summary: teasing joel while on a road trip to houston for a concert was a bad idea. especially with your father tagging along. 3.9k words.

warnings: 18+ MDNI, age gap (23/40), smut, unprotected piv, fingering, dirty talk??, shit load of pet names, banter??, gas stations, no use of y/n, cursing, readers father is oblivious ofc, not beta read we die like losers, uhh idk what else so if i missed anything lmk !!

a/n: omfg this took way longer to write than i'd hoped for but it's here !! it's not the best and it's truthfully my first fic i've completed, written, and posted so if it's horrible that's why. that and i've also never written smut before so this was definitely a learning experience, hopefully as time goes on i'll get better at it but for now it's fuck it we ball, live and learn, anyways enjoy this and also happy birthday to joel miller the loml <3

The tree leaves dance in the wind, a few cars crushing the ones that have fallen and blown into the street leaving only tiny pieces to scatter in the air. It's only the middle of August but the leaves have already started to change colors and fall. at least it's still warm out.

You've watched at least four cars pass since the time Joel was supposed to show up, your dad planned some overnight trip to a concert in Houston. You're all supposed to ride in Joel's truck – he'd offered to be the one to drive there and back – but he still isn't here.

Be nice if it was just you and Joel. It would be like a date, the two of you alone together, spending the day together and having the hotel room all to yourselves for the night.

But that could never happen.

You can hear him from where you're sitting on the porch. your dad. He's been on the phone for the past hour arguing with whoever, he'd gotten loud enough you'd sought reprieve outside, it's proven useless.

You're thankful when you spot the familiar black truck pull up along the sidewalk, you stand from the steps and make your way over to him as he steps out of the truck. “You're late,” you say.

Joel grabs up your bag, tossing it into the bed of the truck. You're not entirely sure how safe that is but you don't bring it up yet.

“Sorry baby, lost track of time and got stuck in traffic.” When he turns to you he leaves one hand on the bed and the other on his hip, you watch the way his hands flex, like he wants nothing more than to wrap you up in his arms and kiss you.

But your dad could walk out the door any second, so he doesn't.

You nod, giving a slight raise of your eyebrows. “Traffic,” is all you say.

“What?” He cocks his head, raising his own eyebrows questioningly.

“Nothing,” you mutter when you hear the screen door open and your dad's voice travels through the air.

“We ready?” he tosses his own bag in the bed, eyeing you two curiously. You both nod in confirmation. “Alright then, let's go.” He rounds the truck, hopping in the passenger's side.

You look at Joel who gives you an apologetic look as he opens the door behind the driver.

This is going to be a long trip.

Joel was right about the traffic, you spend thirty minutes waiting for it to move along the highway. You'd understood the plan of it being an overnight trip but at this rate it might as well be a two day trip.

“God damn, the hell’s takin’ so long?” You hear your dad say, finally breaking the silence that filled the car. “might have to stay longer at this rate, if we even make it,” he mutters.

“‘S why we left so early,” Joel says, there's a hint of agitation laced in his voice, no doubt from the traffic.

You feel the need to make it worse, poke the bear if you will.

“You were late,” you mumble, but you can tell he heard you from the glare you receive through the mirror.

The concert doesn't start till seven, you'd left early – far too early if you're being honest – enough so there was time to get ready, you aren't too sure how that will plan out now from the traffic but Houston isn't very far now.

You honestly wish it was just you and Joel. The car ride so far has been pretty boring, if it was just the two of you the ride wouldn't be so dull. Instead you've listened to your dad talk about sports and work while Joel nodded along, occasionally replying with a sentence or two.

You'd be lying if you said it didn't bother you that all of Joel's attention was elsewhere. But you'd also be lying if you weren't about to make his life impossible.

Because that's exactly what you do.

It's honestly not a good idea, it's risky, but you're beyond caring at this point.

You reach over for your bag, grabbing out a few snack foods you'd packed earlier. You opt out of the chips, they're probably not the most sultry thing you could eat, instead you reach for the cream puff you'd bought a few days ago and forgot about.

You'd packed it for that reason, but now it has a new purpose.

The sound of the wrapping catches the two men's attention, your dad turns in his seat to see what the noise was when he spots the pastry between your hands. “Be careful with that, don't go makin’ a mess in Joel's truck,” he says, scolds almost.

You roll your eyes slightly. “I won't,” your eyes meet Joel's in the mirror, you smile at him as you take a bite of the puff.

His eyes track you, occasionally flitting back to the road. You can tell he's trying to figure out your game, not that it's too complicated to figure out.

You pull the pastry from your mouth, your other hand coming down to cup under your chin slightly. Joel's eyes are like daggers on you as he watches you, you can see the moment he spots the cream on your lips – you spotted it too.

Your tongue darts out slowly to lick at your lips, cleaning the mess left behind running your thumb along your bottom lip for extra measure. Joel stiffens in his seat, his hand tightening on the steering wheel, his jaw ticking to the side as he watches your little performance.

You smile innocently, but you both know what you're doing.

“Light’s green bud,” your dad's voice booms, breaking Joel from his trance as his eyes move from the mirror back to the road.

You’ve stopped for gas twice now, the first time was before you’d left because Joel forgot to fill his truck up the night before. You’d be worried about not making it on time but you’ve made pretty decent time.

You’re about half way when Joel pulls into a gas station, pulling up to a pump and shutting off the car. The sound of the passenger door opening catches Joel's attention. “We all goin’?” he asks, looking back at your dad who’s already out of the car.

“Yeah, figured we could stretch our legs and all that,” your dad says, emphasizing his statement by stretching out his body.

You’re wondering about the candy section when your dad finds you. “Hey, Joel's outside filling the truck, you almost done?”

You scan the aisle one more time, snatching up a lollipop as you nod. “Yep, now I am,” you say, following him to the counter.

You swear the line takes forever, you don’t think you’ve ever seen a gas station so busy before, you stand next to your dad as he checks out, your eyes wander out one of the windows, you spot Joel almost immediately. His broad shoulders squared as he stands next to the pump.

You feel a tap on your shoulder, turning to see your dad gesturing towards the door. You follow him out, unwrapping the lollipop as you both make your way back to the truck. “Shit,” your dad mutters, ruffling through the plastic bag. “I'll be right back, forgot something.”

You nod, leaning against the side of the truck, watching as your dad jogs back into the store leaving you and Joel to finish filling the tank.

Your eyes catch Joel's, he’s standing at the bed of the truck his arms crossed along his chest, you watch the way his shirt stretches along with it.

You can tell he’s caught onto your game, has for a while now if the way the muscle in his jaw jumps says anything.

“The hell you doin’?”

You smile, pulling the sucker from your mouth with a pop. “What do you mean?”

Joel shakes his head, grabbing the pump and putting it back freeing up his pathway as he steps closer to you. “Don’t give me that, you know what I'm talking about,” he says, crowding your space slighting.

You look up at him through your lashes, doing your best to keep your expression unreadable. “You’re going to have to be specific joel,”

His jaw ticks to the side, scanning the area quickly before gripping your chin between his fingers, tilting your face upwards more as he leans in. “Your little stunt in the car with the cream puff, tryna get me hot and bothered, hm?” He whispers, his tone dropping an octave sending shivers down your back.

This is the closest he’s been in hours and he still isn’t close enough.

“Wanna get us caught, hm? Is that it?” His hand slides to the base of your throat, “let your daddy find out i’m fucking his daughter?”

You part your lips, his eyes drop at the movement, you want nothing more than for him to kiss you right now to run your hands through his hair while he all but devours you. He’s thinking the same, the way his hand tightens ever so slightly around your neck as his eyes flit between your lips and your eyes.

“Joel,” you breathe, you’re not sure what you’re trying to ask but you never get a chance before the sound of your dad’s voice causes you both to spring apart.

“Are we ready?” your dad asks, tossing his things in the car and looking at you both.

“Yep,” Joel clears his throat, running a hand across his face before getting in the truck.

Your legs are practically screaming at you, sitting in the back of a pickup for hours and then climbing a set of stairs is leaving your calves burning in the worst way.

You’d finally made it to the motel you’d be staying at for the night with plenty of time to spare thankfully. When you walk into the room you’re immediately met with the ac, it’s a relief on your skin from the hot air outside.

The room’s what you’d expect a motel room to be, two double beds spaced apart with two dark night stands next to them. They’re neatly made, meaning it’ll be a battle to get into. You venture further in the room, passing by the bathroom and heading towards another door within the room.

When you open the door you’re met with another room, it’s slightly smaller with no other way out of it than the main door, there’s a single double bed in the center of the room that’s made up the same way as the other two.

Conjoined rooms. It makes sense, you toss your things on the bed closing the door. You rummage around in your bag looking for the dress you’d packed, you didn’t pack a whole lot given that you weren’t staying for very long but now as you’re searching for something to wear it feels like you did.

You end up dumping the bag, your pajamas and make up layed out on the bed as you flatten out the wrinkles of your dress, it wasn’t anything too extravagant just a simple dress that fell just above your knees.

You’re just about to put your hair up to do your makeup when the door opens, you turn to see Joell standing in the doorway, his broad frame practically taking up the entire space. He’s dressed in the same clothes he’d shown up this morning in, — save for the flannel he’d stripped himself of — a dark blue shirt that hugs his arms paired with dark washed jeans.

He stands leaning against the frame in silence as  his eyes rack up your body taking you in. “Y’look pretty,” he says, finally pushing off the frame taking slow deliberate steps towards you.

You watch his movements stood in the middle of the room, your heart rate picks up heat pooling in the bottom of your stomach from the way he’s looking at you. The atmosphere in the room is thick with need, you have half a mind to ask where your dad is.

“Oh, now you’re worried ‘bout your dad?” your eyes widen, you hadn’t thought you’d said that aloud. Joel crowds your space, his hand coming up to cup your face, his thumb under your chin as he tilts your head slightly.

“He left to get food, won’t be back for a little while,”

“It’s just us then?”

“Mhm,” 

You all but drag him down to your lips, your hands locked together around the back of his neck. Joel stumbles at your eagerness catching himself before he can fall, his hands falling to your waist bunching up your dress as he squeezes your sides.

You gasp softly when Joel pulls you closer, the prominent bulge of his cock digging into your hip, you grind your hips upwards seeking some sort of friction for the ache already forming between your legs.

Joel pulls away, you whine at the loss. “Should finish gettin’ ready sweetheart,” he mumbles, putting distance between you, his hands still firmly in place at your waist.

He’s teasing you now, getting you back for the car ride. But you’ve lost the patience to be teased right now, your core practically throbbing already and Joel is looking at you with a smug smirk well aware of the state you’re in.

“Joel,” you whine out, trying uselessly to pull him back towards you.

He raises his brows, keeping his distance. “Yes babygirl?” He says, rubbing circles along your sides.

“Please,” 

“Please what, darlin’?”

You groan in annoyance, if you weren’t so worked up you’d strangle him for making you beg, but you are. “Please, fuck me,”

Joel hums, looking up as if he’s contemplating, you’re certainly starting to reconsider strangling him. “Dunno know baby, might just make you wait til we get home,”

You could honestly start screaming, you’re running out of time and he’s just messing with you. You look up at him, his eyes already on you an almost amused look on his face.

You lay your hands on his shoulders as you plead. “Please. I’ll do anything just, please,”

“Yeah?” He steps closer, leading you backwards towards the bed, you nod slowly carefully walking til the back of your knees hit the edge of the bed.

Joel lays you back, pushing whatever's on the bed to the floor as he follows you down, he nudges your legs apart so he can nestle himself between them. You wrap your hands around his neck again, pulling him down once more to your lips.

His mouth slots over yours, his tongue slipping into your mouth. Your body is on fire as his hands wander, sliding lower to where you need him most.

You moan into Joel's mouth, your hips grinding upwards as one of his hands slip under the hem of your dress finding your clit through the fabric of your underwear, damp from the slick leaking from your core.

He rubs gentle circles against your clit, kissing his way down your neck. You run your hands through his hair gripping the strands as you gasp and moan.

Joel pulls his hand away from your core, you whine at the loss, he pulls away from you, his hands sliding up your legs. His fingers slip under your waistband, pulling your underwear down off your legs and stuffing them in his pocket.

“Joel,” you squirm under him, his eyes flick back up to yours, he watches you, his eyes never leaving yours as his hand slides back up your leg spreading them so he can nestle between them again.

“I know,” he rasps, two of his fingers running through your arousal, collecting the slick before sliding the two digits past your entrance slowly, your head falling back against the pillows as you moan softly.

He thrusts his fingers, a slow back and forth rhythm, curling them upward on every inward thrust. Your hips rock up encouraging him to move faster, every inward thrust paired with the rock your hips has Joel hitting the spongy spot inside you that has you seeing stars.

His thumb finds your clit rubbing circles on the bud, your hands seek purchase on his shoulders, rumpling his shirt as you ball your fists. “This what you wanted, baby?” He taunts, pulling his fingers almost completely out then thrusting them back in.

You nod, your voice lost to the moans and gasps. “Could've asked ‘stead of teasin’ me all day,” Joel drawls, his voice thick with lust, his hips slowly rutting into the mattress.

“Yeah, but where’s the fun in that?” You finally breathe out.

You hear Joel grumble something under his breath, you don’t catch what before he’s back to thrusting his fingers at a fast pace, his hips grinding down matching the rhythm of his fingers.

You can feel yourself teetering on the edge, the warmth building at the bottom of your stomach. Joel can sense it too, his fingers working more determinedly, his thumb applying more pressure on your clit as he works to push you over the edge. “You gonna cum?” He drawls in your ear lowly, placing delicate kisses below your ear.

A soft moan elicits itself from your throat, nodding your head quickly, your toes curling up as your orgasm approaches. “Words darlin’,” he nips at your earlobe.

“y– ha – yes,”

“That's it babygirl, let go,” he coo’s gently, encouraging you, and you do. You grip Joel's arms, tossing your head back, your mouth agape, a chain of moans escaping. Your walls clench around his fingers, your body shuddering under the weight of your orgasm.

“There you go, good girl,” Joel praises softly, slowing his fingers as you come down from your high. He watches the way your chest rises and falls rapidly, your body relaxing into the bed. You haven’t fully come down from your high before beginning to fumble with the button of his jeans, Joel's hand lays over yours stopping your movements. “Woah, slow down darlin’,” he chuckles.

You groan in frustration, throwing your head back against the pillows once more. “Joel.” you grumble.

“Ask nicely,” he says, raising an eyebrow.

You groan again looking up at him again. “Please,” 

He pulls your hand away, carefully pinning it above your head as he deftly works open the button of his pants, swiftly pushing them past his hips along with his underwear. You can tell he’s running out of patience — and time — to keep teasing you from the way he all but hurriedly frees his aching cock.

You watch as he strokes himself, a careful back and forth motion, his brows furrowed in pleasure. He nudges your legs further apart nestling his hips between your thighs, you wrap your legs around him pulling him closer to you. The head of his cock nudges against your clit eliciting a gasp.

“Fuck,” Joel breathes, closing his eyes tightly, his teeth grinding together slightly.

He lets out a breath, composing himself, he wraps his hand around the base of his cock, sliding the tip along your folds and through arousal using it to slick himself up. Holding your breath everytime the tip catches your clit.

He does that a few more times, his cock only catching your entrance before pulling away. “Just, fuck me,” you huff irritatedly.

“Bein’ a real brat, y’know that?” Joel grumbles, lining his cock up with your entrance. “Should leave you like this, let you go to the concert soakin’,” he never gives you the chance to say anything before he’s pushing his hips forward, stretching you open.

You moan out your legs tightening around his hips, he sets a brutal rhythm, his hips snapping upwards, the head of his cock pushing further on every thrust.

Your hands find their way to Joel’s hair, pulling the strands as you toss your head back in pleasure, your eyes rolling backwards. Joel groans, his head falling on your chest, his hot breath ghosting the skin there.

The room was filled with both of your breaths, soft moans mixing with heavy groans as Joel fucked into your heat. His hand slides down your side, his thumb finding your clit once more drawing tight circles, your moans growing in pitch. Joel slots his mouth over yours, muffling your moans slightly in a heated kiss, your teeth clashing together.

“Be. Quiet.” He manages to gasp out between kisses. You mumble out what sounds like an affirmative, he moves down your neck leaving open mouthed kisses along the skin there, his teeth lightly nipping there. But he knows better than to leave any marks.

His hips continue to ground into you, his cock pushing further and further, his tip grazing against the spot inside you that leaves you breathless. “Yeah? Right there?” He quirks an eyebrow, watching as you bite your lower lip in an effort to muffle your moans.

You nod your head, unable to form any words, your walls tighten around him, you can feel yourself getting closer. His pace quickens, his hips pounding into you faster working vigorously to get you there before him. “Go on baby, le — fuck — let go,” he stutters, his hips faltering slightly.

Your legs tighten around his hips as your orgasm gets closer, the feel of his cock pushing you over the edge. Your walls clamp down, your legs practically going numb as your eyes rolling as pleasure washed over you. Joel’s movements slow as you come around him. “That’s it babygirl, there you go. Cum around me, good girl,” he soothes, a desperate moan escaping.

When you finally come down from your high Joel’s movements pick up speed again, working desperately to push himself over the edge he’d been teetering on for a while now.

You run your hands through his hair, pulling him closer, trailing kisses up his neck and below his ear, lightly biting the lobe as his hips begin to stutter. “Fuck darilin’, so fuckin’ pretty it hurts,” he rambles, his head falling to your shoulder.

He groans, his hips stopping as he cums, his warm load coating the inside of your walls. His body slackens slightly, careful not to put his weight on you. For a while the only sound filling the room is that of both your breaths.

After a few more bouts of silence Joel finally speaks up. “Should get cleaned up and finish gettin’ ready,” he says, groaning as he slowly pulls out, carefully tucking himself away before extracting himself from the bed. “C’mon,” he pats your leg, moving towards the door.

You sit up on your elbows, watching him from the bed. “What about my underwear?” You ask, Joel turns to face you from the doorway.

“What about them?” He doesn’t say anything else, never gives you the chance to say anything either before he’s out the door a smug smirk plastered across his face.

You stare out the door at a loss, eventually falling back against the bed, you know you should get up and finish getting ready before your dad gets back, but if you’re being honest you don’t think you could get up right now.

Instead you lay there staring at the ceiling, a ridiculous grin spread across your face. Teasing Joel with your dad around may have been a bad idea, but you’d do it again if it got you here.

[aurumalatus]

𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐞 [𝟓]

pairing. kinich x fem!reader

word count. 3.1k

genre/warnings. childhood friends to lovers, slow burn, fluff and angst, drabble collection, reader is mentioned to be wearing a dress, descriptions of blood and injury

summary.

in which kinich learns the value of all things: lives, friendship, and, of course, you. or, in which kinich realizes that you are the only priceless thing in this world.

author's note. the slow burn is burning... kinich is a little slow to the punch though LOL. this chapter talks about turnfire night, i took a lot of ~artistic liberty~ with the banquet and such so don't hate on me pls. there's a bit of angst in the next few chapters, i'm sorry HAHAHA. pls lmk what you guys think, it's very motivating! i hope you enjoy <3 reblogs/interaction highly appreciated!

↢ 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 | 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 ↣

𝗦𝗜𝗟𝗘𝗡𝗖𝗘 𝗜𝗡 𝗧𝗛𝗜𝗦 𝗥𝗢𝗢𝗠 (𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗗𝗘𝗔𝗧𝗛 𝗢𝗙 𝗠𝗘)

At some point, the flowers start to speak your name.

Kinich isn’t sure when the idea took root in his mind—it had been slow for sure, a snail crawling over a branch. Living together makes you a perpetual presence in his life, a certainty like the rise of the sun and the glint of the stars. He finds comfort in that knowledge, but rarely thinks on it more than that.

The day he realizes it, the sun is a bright yolk in the sky, honey-yellow and shining dutifully upon his back. A layer of sweat plasters itself to his forehead, and he scrubs it away with his wrist, panting. For as many years as he’s been a farmer, the work hardly gets easier; it still leaves him sore and aching every day.

Across the field, the front door of your home swings open—it’s you that peeks out, waving. Kinich nods back in reply, gathering the vegetables in his basket and jogging back over to you. He frowns when he notices a dark spot on one of his carrots, vaguely noting that he should toss that one out later.

“I ran you a bath,” you offer, leaning halfway out the doorway. Kinich extends a half-smile in gratitude.

“Thanks,” he replies, holding the harvest out to you. You take the basket with a small ‘thank you’, placing it down on your feet. Usually, you would take the vegetables inside right away to wash and cut them, but today, you’re lingering—there’s something on your mind.

But Kinich is nothing if not patient, so he merely waits, arching a brow.

“It’s Turnfire Night,” you finally admit, hands clasped behind your back. “Elder Leik invited us to the banquet, if you’re keen on going.”

Surprised, Kinich glances over his crops. He’s just about done here for the day, and he doesn’t have anything on the to-do list for tonight anyway.

“Do you want to?”

You’re hesitating, likely out of shyness—he watches you rock back and forth on your heels.

“I think it’d be nice,” you reply, short. 

You’re trying not to force him, he realizes. You know how much he hates crowded things like that. And usually, you would be right, but he thinks back on the last time he’d visited the village. It’s been long enough, he decides, and one day wouldn’t kill him.

“Sure, we can go.”

Your disposition brightens instantly, nearly ascending with joy. 

“Really?” you squeak, hands drawing to your chest. He smiles and nods, shaking his head with amusement when you disappear back inside, cheering. You’re easy to please in a lot of ways.

Kinich takes you up on your offer of a warm bath, then prepares one for you as well. Gone are the days that the two of you washed up in the river—a nicer bathtub had been one of your earlier investments, and Kinich had grown to appreciate the blessings of a warm place to wash at the end of a long day. It does wonders for his aching muscles.

Over the years, Kinich’s house had slowly grown into a home, right under his nose. Your presence had been a driving force in that process.

While his hair dries, he’s in the kitchen organizing a few of the cupboards when you emerge from your bath, footsteps quietly padding against the floor. You call his name, voice thin and uncertain. When he turns, his heart squeezes.

You’re wearing a lovely dress, a forest green with golden accents—he briefly notes that it matches his eyes, then wonders if you had chosen that on purpose. The thought leaves his head foggy.

“What do you think?” you ask shyly, giving a small twirl. Kinich’s gaze follows the flow of your skirt, the liveliness of it. He’s never seen you dressed up like this in all his years of knowing you, and the sight makes something take root in his chest. “I bought it at the market a while ago, just in case.”

There’s a beat of silence, but it doesn’t sit for long.

“It looks nice,” is all that crawls from his throat, thick. The words sound awkward from his lips, he thinks harshly. A heated flush surges up his neck, curling around his ears and resting there. You practically glow at his response, clapping to yourself. 

“I got something for you too,” you sing, disappearing into the bedroom. Kinich waits patiently until you return, gesturing for him to close his eyes. He indulges you, and it’s a few seconds before something soft brushes at his forehead, pushing his bangs aside.

A bandana.

When his vision returns, you’re standing inches away from his face—his breath hitches at the proximity. Your gaze is searching as it meets his, your lip twitching at the edge. The excitement nearly pours off of you in waves. 

You’re staring.

Kinich’s fingers brush his own cheek, self-conscious. “What is it?”

You lean impossibly closer.

“Nothing,” you hum, happy as a clam. “I just think it makes your eyes look even prettier.” 

You’ve always told him how much you love his eyes, the starburst of jade and gold. You have a tendency to notice things about him that no one else does.

“Does it look nice?” he asks quietly, thumbing at the cloth. He would recognize a product of your weaving anywhere—you must’ve been working on this for a while now. He wonders when you found the time, or even how you managed to do it without him noticing.

You nod, a fond smile gracing your face. “You look really handsome.”

Kinich feels a touch of jealousy at the ease with which the words seem to fall from your lips. Sometimes, he wishes he could speak his mind the way you do. He doesn’t usually hold back in his words—most people he interacts with can attest to that—but when it comes to you, his tongue grows heavy in his mouth.

Still, the idea that you think he looks handsome is…nice.

“Thank you,” he breathes.

You turn and skip back into the bedroom, calling over your shoulder about how the two of you should leave soon. He watches you leave, the dress flowing like silk over your form. He swallows.

It’s really, really nice.

Later on, Kinich holds you close as the two of you grapple toward the village, mountains and trees racing past you. Your giggles are warm against his ear; you love traveling like this, the adrenaline that pulses through your veins. Winking dots of light are already visible in the distance, a rousing cheer reaching your ears—the festivities have already started.

He lands neatly on one of the wooden walkways, taking in the scenery. The village is decorated with bright streamers and vases of blooming flowers, crowds of people maneuvering around the party. You maintain your grip on Kinich’s hand, unwilling to lose him in the crowd.

Two taller figures emerge from the swathe of people, greeting you by name. 

“Have you two been taking care?” Elder Leik asks warmly, Chief Wayna smiling at his side. The elders are concerned for the two of you, Kinich knows; they’ve tried many times to convince you to move back to the village. Their efforts slowly ceased as the two of you grew older—you’ve always been steadfast in your independence.

You nod enthusiastically. “We’ve been doing really well! Everyone’s seeking out Kinich’s work.”

Your compliment makes him feel a bit embarrassed—he feels an urge to deny it, but the elders only laugh and congratulate him, ruffling at his hair. He does feel a bit satisfied that they recognize his strength.

“That’s great,” Chief Wayna replies, genuine. “Just remember you can always come to us if you ever need anything. But also make sure you enjoy the party!”

He leaves the two of you with a wink, fading into the crowd, and you take the opportunity to grasp at Kinich’s hand, pulling him along. You’re the most excited person there, truly in awe of everything.

Kinich indulges in some of the food, laughing at the gusto with which you scarf down your own—he chuckles as he wipes crumbs away from your cheeks. Everyone’s spirits are high; the music is loud and roaring, an electrifying song that Kinich can feel in his veins. You perk up at the sound.

“Kin, can we dance?” you beg, eyes bright and lips pouted. 

He glances around. Really, he doesn’t want to, especially not in front of all of these people. But the music is slowing, and Kinich can never say no to you, so he sighs, pulling you close and placing a cursory hand at your waist.

“Is this good?” he asks, a murmur. You hum in content, resting your head at his shoulder.

“It’s great.”

A permanent grin seems to have plastered itself over your lips. Kinich absently thinks that it makes you look so much more beautiful—a flower in bloom.

“You’re really happy today,” he comments.

Your eyes flutter shut, delighted.

“I’m happy you wanted to come with me. And I was happy that you liked my dress, and that you liked the headband I wove for you. I’m just happy.”

A deep yearning fills Kinich’s chest at the feather-softness of your voice—he feels an urge to hide you away. Somehow, he wants this side of you to only be for him.

“I did really like it,” he confirms. “The headband, and…everything else.”

He likes spending time with you, he likes your dress, and he likes the warmth that permeates his body when you hold him like this. Everything else seems to fade into nothingness.

For a while, the two of you talk about nothing and everything. It’s a truly peaceful existence. Kinich tries to remember if he’s ever been to a Turnfire Night like this before; the last time he’d attended, he’d likely been too young to even remember the event. You just have a way of replacing his darker memories with pleasant ones.

The beat of the music picks up again, and Kinich feels an instant chill when you lift your head from his shoulder. Still, he sways to the music with you, smiling when you start to sing along to the energetic song.

“You’re a good dancer,” you observe, in awe. Kinich shrugs, smoothly spinning you again.

“It’s not that hard.”

Dancing with you is actually fun, he realizes despite his initial hesitation. Your laughter fades with the passing wind, dissipating into the night, and he can’t help but stare at the way the torchlight glimmers against your skin.

The two of you celebrate until the music dies to silence, until people start to yawn and retire to bed. By this time, the sun is already peeking in the distance, barely a whisper of light reaching you. 

Kinich carries you home, soft snores echoing from your place on his back—he decides he won’t tease you about it later.

Instead, he promises himself that he’ll keep taking you to Turnfire Night every year after.

(Then, he promises himself that he’ll always protect your smile.)

/

By the time he cries for the first time, Kinich is fifteen.

He feels that he knows the way the world works now—those with strength, with value, survive. It’s not that he has any interest in being one of the rich ones with towering houses that line the cliffside. Really, all he needs to be satisfied is a comfortable life with you at the foot of the mountain. And his needs—things like clothes and food—come with Mora, so he makes Mora. It’s a simple existence.

He spends more time with you. Slowly but surely, he starts to bring you on jobs and hunts with him. You’re eager to learn about the work he does, and even more excited to help—your medical knowledge does tend to make things go faster. Still, he feels extra layers of anxiety whenever he knows you’re coming along, his grip drawing tighter around his sword.

It comes on a day like any other.

At first, it doesn’t seem like a particularly difficult job—it’s a run-of-the-mill request, to subdue a Saurian that’s been attacking travelers near the village. Even still, Kinich is as thorough as always in the days leading up to the job, and you let him take the lead. He’s strict about these things when you come along, and you know better than to distract him.

The day of, the two of you encounter the Saurian in a clearing adjacent to the road. It’s sick, you mention quietly, hidden in the foliage nearby—it’s foaming at the mouth, erratic in its movements. Kinich mumbles back his agreement.

It starts to peck at the poisoned berries he’d left for it, movements slowing. He counts down the minutes—at this point, it should be incapacitated enough for the kill.

It’s only when Kinich creeps up behind it, greatsword in hand, that he realizes he’d been wrong. The Saurian seems to switch at the last second, beady eyes burning as it poises to strike. Kinich barely blocks the attack with the flat of his blade, teeth gritted.

“Kinich!” you cry out, running to his side. The Saurian perks up at the sound, tense.

Kinich’s eyes widen. “Wait, don’t come—”

It’s too late. The Saurian’s claw catches you in the stomach as it whips around, sending you flying.

A sickening crack echoes when your back smacks against a rock—you crumple to the dirt, hunched over. A cold breath hisses between Kinich’s teeth as he screams your name.

The Saurian doesn’t last much longer than that, not that he really remembers any of it. He swings his sword, cutting and slicing, sounds of battle piercing the air. It’s only when he sprints to your side that he returns to his senses.

A harsh gash is ripped through your shirt and the skin beneath, a pool of crimson already gathering on your stomach. The sight brings bile crawling up his throat.

“Kin…”

Your voice is weak, and Kinich hushes you quickly, an urge to save your strength. A striking fear has his blood freezing in his veins—he remembers his father’s corpse. Terror hovers over his body, leaving him breathless. He intertwines his fingers with yours, pressing the back of your hand to his lips. 

“That hurt,” you mumble, a touch of humor in your tone even now. “I’m tired.”

Your eyelids are heavy, stare unfocused. 

“Don’t close your eyes!” he demands. He palms at your cheek lightly, willing you to stay awake. It’s unlike him, the desperation in his voice. “Didn’t you say you’d always be by my side?”

You chuckle, a line of blood dripping down your chin. Kinich thumbs it away.

“I said that when we were kids, silly.”

He swallows, throat bobbing. Your eyes follow the motion unconsciously.

“We’re still kids.” 

His voice cracks as he says it, like his words can’t bear the brunt of their meaning. Your heart pulses, a burst of adrenaline coursing through you at his rare show of emotion. It’s only a moment, because the pain returns milliseconds later and a groan escapes your chest. 

Quickly, Kinich pulls his headband off, sliding it between his teeth to hold while he pulls the flask of water from his belt. He sets about cleaning your wound, gentle, but the stress is evident in his expression. His hands are shaking; you can feel the tremble against your skin as he eases your shirt up.

“It’ll be okay,” he breathes. Even he is unsure if he’s speaking to you or himself. You nod weakly.

“It’ll be okay, Kin.” You cough, and something in Kinich’s chest snaps when a spray of blood splatters over the hem of his shirt. A spray of your blood. “Don’t worry, okay?”

He can’t even really hear you anymore. He’s staring at the crimson mist, wondering how this had even happened. He’d assumed he was strong enough—strong enough to do this job, strong enough to protect you—and he had been wrong. There must’ve been an error in his calculations, or maybe he hadn’t prepared enough. 

He fastens his headband around your wound, stemming the blood flow. It’s almost an out-of-body experience—he hardly even recognizes the hands as his.

He’d gotten too comfortable, and you had paid the price.

Those with strength survive, but that day brings a sobering realization—Kinich is far weaker than he thought.

A cold tear slides down his cheek as he carries you home. 

You’re sniffling in pain at each step, the movement irritating your wound, and Kinich feels truly helpless. All he can do is whisper promises and apologies, that he’s sorry it happened and that he promises everything will be okay. It almost feels worse that you don’t seem to blame him at all—you’re apologizing too, telling him you’re sorry for being a burden on his job.

“You’re never a burden,” he spits. It comes out harsher than intended, so he sighs, softening. “You could never be a burden to me.”

You don’t reply.

A thick lump lodges itself in his throat as he feels your blood soak through the back of his shirt. It all almost feels unreal—he feels like he could return home to your warmth and smile and everything would be okay. You have a way of making everything okay.

“We’re almost there, okay?” he murmurs. You’re sweating from the pain, sticky against his skin. “Just stay with me.”

The house feels unnaturally cold when he kicks the door open. 

By the time he has your wound properly wrapped, the sun is gone, a distant memory. He sets you down in bed, pulling the blanket up to your chin—you’re already asleep, but your expression is unpleasant, tortured. You must be in pain, even in your dreams.

The thought makes him sick.

With a sigh, he stumbles out of the bedroom, collapsing onto the couch. His hands are still shaking from overuse and exhaustion. He’s not used to the tedious movements anymore like you are—you’re always the one patching him up these days.

A vase sits on the table. It’s full of Saurian Claw Succulents—you’d planted them yourself, cheery at the prospect of decorating the house a bit more. Kinich plucks one of the flowers from the vase by the thin stem, vacantly inspecting each petal.

He wonders what he has to change.

Those with strength survive. Kinich wants to survive. He wants to survive and live his days out with you.

But he’s not strong enough. If you can’t smile at his side, what good is he at all?

Your labored breathing is audible from the other room, the sound grating against his ears. If he had a Vision, or some other kind of power, things might’ve been different. If he had just been stronger—

He thinks back on his younger self, on his innocence, on his weakness. He’d discarded that side of himself long ago in favor of something more powerful, in favor of someone who could protect and take care of you.

There’s no turning back now, he thinks.

The stem snaps under his fingers, under the weight of it all, previous gentleness gone.

[madamechrissy]

Your series is on toppp, i was always waiting for your new post especially that gojo series lmao. Anyways, can we get a gojo x innocent!reader?? Make them likee childhood friend and gojo takes her virginity lolll.

Thank you sm love, I hope you enjoy it <3 You know I've never given Gojo a virgin in anything, it's his first time for me lmaooo! 🩷🩷🩷

Pairing: Satoru Gojo x virgin reader

Contents/warnings: cute fluff, friends to lovers, first time/loss of virginity, oral sex (M and F receiving), explicit sex, pet names, not much plot lol, just smut fr

Word Count:: 3.7k

🩷 First Time 🩷

You are sitting next to Satoru on his couch as you all watch one of his silly movies. He has laid out a million snacks and treats for the night, including bowls full of Halloween candy from yesterday. Yes, Satoru was twenty two and yes, he still went trick or treating, you’d been dragged along with him all night last night, running from house to house.

Your feet still hurt, you’re wincing and rubbing them, and Satoru looks over at you with his stupidly pretty eyes, eyes you should be used to after being friends for ten years, but sometimes they… well they did things. Satoru seems to be clueless at his effects on you, how when he tickles you, you gasp, how when he pulls you against him, you sigh and inhale his scent.

You’re pretty bad at hiding it.

Suguru and Shoko make fun of you endlessly, but you are just too afraid to ruin your friendship. But then, you’ve also non stop turned down men, left and right, pining away for him. It certainly was not the best way to go about things, but you’re holding out for him to be your first. Even though it’s foolish to think it will happen, you can’t help but wait for him.

Satoru was not dating anyone, he really had not dated much since high school, he would have a fling here and there, but mostly he spent time working and then with his friends. With you.

“Feet hurting? Bring ‘em to Daddy.” He teases with a smirk, and you giggle, rolling your eyes.

“Oh gosh, Satoru. You really gonna rub ‘em?”

“Sure am, it’s my fault they hurt. C’mere.” You lean back on the couch and prop your feet up on his lap, as his long fingers press into the soles of your feet, you moan a bit, and he pauses, looking at you.

“Sorry.” You say, flustered and overheated, and Satoru looks back at the movie, his tall, lithe body leaning back against the cushions.

“No need to say sorry, it feels good hmm?” He teases, as you try to focus on the movie, but he’s pressing his fingers deeper, and massaging your feet so good your eyes flutter shut.

“Very good, oof thank you.” You say softly, going to pull them back a bit, but Satoru now has raised his massage to your ankles. You gasp. “That tickles!”

“Does it? You’re so ticklish.” He’s running little circles on your ankles then, and your thighs shift as his hands slip even higher, to your calves.

“That feels… really good, mmm.” You whisper, wishing it meant less to you, wishing you did not treasure and drink in every bit of your best friend. His shiny white hair, his perfect straight nose, model cheekbones and pouty lips. Satoru Gojo was the prettiest man you’ve ever seen, but it’s more than that.

His little smirk and how his snowy lashes lower over his eyes, his laugh when he’s being silly, how his body looks in that black skin tight gym shirt, his biceps curling as he’s gently brushing your legs. You bite your lower lip then, as he’s still watching the movie, his touches lighter, little caresses down your legs.

“You have nice legs.” You sputter then, mouth wide, and he peeks at you, a little blush on his cheeks. “What you do.”

“Um… what? I do?” He looks down at your thighs now, and when his huge hands cover them, you can’t stop the little whimper, drawing his attention to you.

“You doing alright over there?” He asks then, raising a brow, and you cover your face now.

“I have to say something.” You shift your legs down, and Satoru pouts.

“I was having fun playing with them, meanie.”

“Satoru…” You lean forward on the couch, touching his shoulders gently. “I really have to tell you something.”

“Go on then, silly girl.” He taps your nose with a little smile. You take a deep breath, looking into his swirling blue eyes then.

“I want you to be my first.”

“What!?” He’s sputtering now, and jumps up, and then you jump up, turning away and covering your face.

“I’m so stupid, of course you wouldn’t. You’re Satoru Gojo, you can have anyone. And you’re experienced. And-”

“Hey, hey.” Satoru’s hands are on your shoulders behind you now, and you tense a bit at the touch, heart racing. “You’re prettier than anyone I’ve been with, it’s not anything like that.”

“Shit, really? You think I’m pretty?” You whisper, looking back at him, and he exhales, hands squeezing a bit, nodding.

“Of course you are, silly. I tell you that you look cute all the time, do I not?”

“Cute. Not pretty.”

“Well, you’re cute and pretty. And… you’re a virgin?” He turns you to him then, and you nod shyly, tucking your hair behind your ears. “Why me the first time, why not a boyfriend?”

You sigh then, fiddling with your hands in front of yourself. “You’re who I want it with. We can stay friends, it doesn’t have to like ruin it, you don’t have to date me.”

He blinks his white lashes then, tilting his head. “Why wouldn’t I wanna date you?”

“Because we’re friends!”

“And I like you, a lot. I always have. I thought… Well, I thought you didn’t like me like that.”

“What!?” It’s your turn now, and he smirks a bit.

“Well, I’m half naked in front of you constantly, and I barely see you check me out.”

“I do! But I look away when you look at me. You don’t check me out!”

“Oh, I do.” His eyes dart down your body now, and it’s as if he’s touching you, as he looms over you, so tall, so sexy. “I look away when you look at me. Now, you really want a first time, you have to be my girlfriend, I’m no hussy.” He states, putting his hand to his chest, and you laugh then.

“I can absolutely do that. How do we seal this boyfriend/girlfriend status then? A selfie? A pinky swear?” You step closer, trailing a hand up his chest now.

“Mmm, all of the above. But first, this.” Satoru leans down now, kissing you for the first time, his soft, plump lips pressing on yours, and you gasp at it, before kissing him back, putting pressure on his lips, wrapping your arms around his neck, on your tip toes. Satoru moans softly, pulling back, his hands on your waist, then his eyes lock onto yours.

“Toru… that’s perfect.” You murmur softly, as you still feel the tingles of your lips, then you realize you have a tear sliding down your cheek. Satoru swipes it away gently, tilting up your chin and bending down, lips against your ear.

“I wanna have you cumming so hard you scream my name, pretty tears falling out of those pretty eyes.” Your body reacts viscerally, your nipples pressed against the little tank top you’re wearing, as he nips your ear then, sending shivers down your spine at the sensation.

“Please.” Satoru’s kissing down your neck now, hands on your hips, feeling your every curve, your hands enwrap in his silky hair, gasping when he picks you up in his arms like it’s nothing.

“Anything you want, pretty girl.” You melt at his words, as he carries you to his bedroom, laying you down and sliding up your tank then, revealing your breasts, he exhales as he sees them, nostrils flaring. “Holy… they’re so fucking pretty.”

“You like them?” You ask shyly, and he nods eagerly.

“Take it off, please, be a good girl for me.” You’re dripping wet already, as you lean up and pull the top over your head, your tits bouncing gently. He’s gripping them in his big hands then, squishing them and running his thumbs over your nipples, your back arches. “Tell me what you like, don’t hold back, I want to learn all of you.”

“That feels good, it feels so good.” You say softly, and he then kisses down to each peak, sucking them into his hot mouth. “S’good, mmm!”

He hums a bit, his big hand sliding down your tummy, making it tremble, as he finds your shorts, pulling them down. “So, do you masturbate Miss Virgin?”

“Jerk, ugh. Of course I do, ah!” He’s kissing and nipping on your rib cage now, looking at you with his eyes dilated, pupils so big there’s just a ring of that brilliant blue now.

“Show me what you do, then I’ll know where you like to be touched most.” He’s taking your hand now, grinning with those white teeth. “Aw, ya blushing?”

“Well, y-yes. Um… I don’t finger myself, I just rub my clit.”

“Of course, those small little fingers, they can’t hit good.” He holds his fingers out, double your length, so long you clench around nothing imagining them, getting wetter when he presses your finger to your clit. “That’s it, pretty, show me.”

You rub your clit in circles, aching for him, as he stands up, taking off his shirt then, and you drink in his body hungrily, as he drinks in yours. “Fuck you’re gorgeous Satoru.”

“And you’re gorgeous, best friend. Girlfriend. Shnookums.”

“Shnookums!”

“Tossing cute names around.” He’s sliding his jeans off now, just in his dark blue boxers, then you see that outline, making you heat up even more with such strong desire. “Go ahead, keep going, you’re doing good.”

“Want you to touch me.” You whisper, as he sits back on the bed, the springs creaking under his weight, watching as your finger is playing between your lips, taking your hand gently and sucking on your finger then. “Oh!”

“Yummy. Need to taste you.” He says then, his voice husky, you are crying out when he rubs his fingers along your folds, down your slit, where wetness is pooling down to your entrance.

“Toru!” Your hips buck up when he runs circles on your clit, eyeing you carefully now.

“Have you had anything inside this pretty pussy at all?” He asks, sliding down to lay between your thighs now, his hands pressing into the plush of them as he spreads them wide. “So perfect.”

“No, I haven’t.” You admit, then gasp out when he slides one of his thick, long fingers inside you. “Ah… ah!”

“Fuck you’re so tight.” He pecks little kisses on your thighs, nipping as he studies you, pressing on a spot now that makes you see stars. “There it is.”

You’re falling apart as he pumps that long finger in, before stretching it to two, which is so hard to take, you can barely get to his first knuckles. “Toru, it’s too much… too much…”

“Aww you can take it, can’t you? Gotta stretch this tight little pussy for me, I’m a lot bigger than those fingers.” You can hear the squishing of your wetness as he kisses closer and closer, and you’re entangling your fingers in his hair, pressing against his scalp. “You’re so needy for me, aren’t you?”

You can’t speak then, when he kisses the hood of your clit, pulling the fingers out to part your folds gently. Your legs shake on either side of his head as he studies your pussy even more, moaning as he does. “Toru, um what are you doing?”

“Gonna eat you out, pretty girl. I can’t just have a treat like this and not eat it, don’t you know I have a sweet tooth?”

“Are you sure, I didn’t expect-”

“Oh this is my favorite. You’ll love it.” Satoru swipes his tongue up your slit then, and you’re moaning so loud it’s embarrassing, and he exhales, tickling you so good, his cool breath blowing on your overheated cunt. “Yummy.”

“Toru, fuck…”

“What a bad mouth, young lady.” He glares, and you laugh, breathless. “And you’re laughing, ah-ah.” He smacks your pussy, shocking you, but you like it, as you’re gushing more arousal out of your little hole. “Freaky little virgin.”

“Toru!”

“Stop talking back missy.” He smacks it again, and grins at your reaction. “Let me enjoy my treat, hmm?” You just nod, and he dives down now, sliding his tongue in and out of you in the most delicious tongue fuck. You’re already pulsing around him as he drinks you up, exploring you with his tongue, lips, teeth.

Your back arches, as he’s fucking you with it over and over, his teeth hitting your clit when he swipes up, finally swirling your clit in circles with the tip of his stupidly talented tongue. You can’t stand how good it feels, the pressure in your tummy, then you realize you’re going to cum, and cum so hard, you feel everything on fire, every nerve ending lit up.

“Gonna cum, gonna cum!” You pant out the words, and Satoru’s moaning against you, leaning up, half his face covered with you.

“Cum all over my face, let me drink you pretty.” He’s not goofy, silly Satoru, he’s some damn sex demon now, as he flicks his tongue once more, and you’re shattering for him, pulling him against you as you cum.

Satoru rides it out with you, continuing to flick his tongue so fast, sipping up the wetness out of your soppy cunt. You feel so good you’re blinded, eyes blinking rapidly to try to focus, to try to cling to this earth. He’s more serious now as he exhales, fingering you again, sliding two in with ease at how wet you are, hovering over you.

“Such a good girl, came that much for me? Wanna taste it?” He asks, and you nod nervously, then he’s kissing you, letting you taste your sweet arousal. Your hands slide down his hard abdomen, over the ripples of muscles and sinew, until you find his boxers, tugging. “Oh fuck, wanna touch me?”

“Yes, please.”

“I wasn’t sure your first time.” His care melts you, melts any worries you have away, but when he takes off his boxers and you see him, you panic.

“Oh that will never fit!” You watch him chuckle then, his soft hair falling over a brow as you touch it, your tiny hand not covering hardly any of it.

“It will fit, I promise.”

“Will it hurt?” You ask, brows together, stroking him, watching his eyes flutter shut, biting his lip.

“I haven’t been with a virgin. Um, I hear it hurts a bit, but you’re so wet and warmed up, I hope it won’t for long. I’ll go easy on you, the first time.”

“The first time!?”

“Then we’ll get freaky.” You giggle again, stroking him up and down.

“Can I suck you too?”

“You want to?” You nod and he exhales, getting on his knees then, gently positioning you on all fours. “Fuck it’s like my four pm nap.”

“Huh?”

“I nap after work, and you are always in some position. Some new one. Legs spread, ass in the air.” He wraps your hair up, pulling it gently into a ponytail, his pretty cock so thick and intimidating, twitching as you flick your tongue on the pink tip. “Oh fuck, that feels good.”

“What do you like?” You lap at the pearly liquid weeping from his tip, tonguing it and tasting it, sweet and a little salty, before sucking a couple inches in your mouth, earning his little whimper, so sexy it makes you impossibly wetter.

“Anything you wanna do, fuck. At your mercy here, the tip is the most sensitive. Can you take more?” Satoru’s voice is soft as he presses in further, and you’re moaning around him, nodding. “Good girl.”

“Mmm.” You’re sucking more of him then, as you look up, seeing his perfect form, that happy trail of white hair under that flat belly button, his hard body tensing as you stroke him where your mouth can’t reach.

“Okay, too much, I want to last for you. Mmm.” He pulls you off gently now, pushing you back to lay down, settling between your thighs, fingering you with his two fingers again. “Are you sure about this? We can wait.”

“I want this, I really do. I have for so- ah- long. Toru! Close!” He’s sliding his fingers out then, leaving you whining, as he now presses his thick tip in your entrance, and your eyes lock as you gasp.

“Want to feel you cumming around me, love.” Love that little pet name is destroying you. “Relax, please, don’t tense, just trust me. I got you.”

“I trust you, Satoru.” He exhales then, head resting on yours, then presses in, and you whine out at the pain of the first stretch, and he pauses, groaning.

“Oh fuck you’re so tight. Are you okay, pretty?” You nod a bit, as he eases back, and you’re gripping his back so tightly your nails are leaving crescent marks. “Oh fuck…”

Satoru moans as he presses further in, and you’re full, too full, it’s like nothing you’ve known. He sinks in so deep you feel him in your stomach, feel him everywhere, burning the skin as it stretches to accommodate. Satoru studies you carefully, his brow scrunched up, cupping your face with one hand.

“Baby, you all right? Gotta tell me.”

“I’m so full. It’s just… a lot.” He nods, kissing you again, rocking his hips, and then his tip drags on that spot he’d just fingered, and it feels so good, you’re clinging to him. “There, there!”

“Here?” He does it again, and your eyes roll back, feeling him roll those hips, you’re wetter and wetter with every shallow thrust, and he’s whimpering again, his cheeks flushed pink, his lips parted. “Cum on me, please?”

You need no further urging, you’re soaking Satoru’s cock as you cum, and his lips drink your moans, his hands now holding your thighs, sliding them up further, starting to fuck into you now. You’re falling apart under him, moans ridiculously loud, pleasure is coursing through your body while he fucks you into another orgasm.

“Toru, Toru! Mmm!” Satoru’s pretty eyes look into your own.

“Can I go harder, love?”

“Yes, please.”

He laughs just a bit. “You can take it, huh?”

“I can, fuck I can.” He fucks you harder then, pressing your thighs up, and you’re struggling to take more and more of him, as he’s so deep he’s hitting your cervix.

“Feel me here?” He takes your hand, pressing it on your tummy, and he has a wicked grin as he slides in slow, and you feel him there, making you squeak. “You’re so cute.”

“Cute, still, while mmm… fucking?”

“Cute anytime. Cutie.” He smacks little kisses on your cheeks, somehow he’s dirty and sexy one moment, then sweet and adorable the next. “Mwah!”

“Satoru!” You giggle when he leaves a loud kiss on your lips, but then he presses in so deep and grinds, and you lose all sense. Everything is fading, floating.

“Call me Toru when you cum.”

“Toru!” You cum all over his cock, arousal dripping down his length, down his balls that are smacking your ass, and he sucks in a breath when he feels your walls fluttering around him.

“Trying to milk me, she’s greedy already.” You have no clue what he means, all you know is it feels even better, as he’s thickening inside you. “Question.” He huffs out then, panting over you, his chiseled body dripping in sweat.

“G-go ahead.”

“On birth control or I gotta get plan B?” You nervously bury your face into his throat, and he’s laughing softly, stroking your hair as his strokes slow. “Baby gotta let me know, I’m not gonna pull out, wanna fill you up.”

“I’m on the pill. And t-take it on time.” He sighs, tilting your chin up then, smirking deviously, eyes bright fucking blue and insane.

“I’d cum in you anyway, you’d be cute pregnant.”

“What now!?” He’s slammed his lips on yours again, pressing your thighs up, and then he’s fucking harder, sounds of your skin smacking mixing with your wetness, as he fucks you so hard your tits are bouncing, the headboard is smacking. “Taking it easy, huh!?”

“This is easy, love. Oh fuck… gonna cum…” He moans then, his hands cupping your face, and you feel him throbbing inside you, thickening, you are filled with hot ropes of cum, coating your walls, and you cum just from that, earning his groan. “Oh you’re such a good girl.”

He’s gently pumping, gasping as he pumps even more cum, and your muscles are already pushing it out. He sighs then, smacking kisses on you over and over, every inch of your face, making you so blissful, as he’s fucked any thoughts out of your head, you feel like you’re floating, clinging to him, nails digging in.

“This better not be just once.” He says with a glare, and you grin, shaking your head and brushing his hair back.

“Absolutely not just once. Oh! Ouch.” You hiss a bit as he eases out, and you go to look down, but he tilts your chin up, shaking his head.

“Don’t look, you’re always scared of blood. Gonna faint.”

“It’s that much!?”

“No, but you’re sensitive about that. I’ll be right back.” Satoru hops up and you look at the ceiling, you hear a shower running, see the steam rolling into his room, and then he’s back and cleaning you up, before picking you up in his arms. “Let me take care of you, yeah?”

“Yeah, I would love that, Toru. Sounds so good.” He has you under the scalding hot water then, sudsing you up with bubbles everywhere, forming little puffy clouds on your breasts then rinsing them, laughing like he’s having a blast. You shake your head as you watch him.

“I used to jerk off when you’d take showers here.”

“You what now!?”

He just grins, pushing the shower head even lower. “Picturing you, did you ever… you know…”

“Satoru!”

“Did you!?” You look at his shower head nervously, then him, and he’s grinning even wider now. “Oh, you’re a bad girl.”

“Oh stop it, silly. Maybe once or twice. You have great water pressure. Ah, Toru!” Satoru is now on his knees in the shower, looking up at you and rushing that hot shower water against your clit. You gasp at it, as he wraps an arm around your hip to steady you.

“I’m gonna have so much fun with you.”

Gojo Drabbles/ one shots - Masterlist

[lostdreamr-blog1]

Pinky Promise

Pinky Promise 2

Part 3

Part 4

Summary: Jake gets a call in the middle of the night asking for a ride home. But it’s who is asking that makes him worried.

Word count: 2k

A/N: Another request knocked out! Currently working on part 2 of Beautiful Stranger and might have plans for continuing this one depending on if you all like it. Thank you so much for reading! -C

You were a little on the tipsy side as you squinted at your phone trying to make out the numbers on it. With them moving as much as they were, it was near impossible to type in a correct phone number. Instead, you opened your contacts and scrolled down to your brother’s name.

The smart thing to do would be to call him for a ride, but the more drunk side of you could only think about the nagging you would get on the way home and probably the month following. So, you scrolled up and down your contacts deciding on who would be the lucky winner to receive a call at 1 in the morning.

Jake groaned as he heard his phone going off. He blindly reached for it and squinted at the bright screen, trying to decipher who the hell would be calling at this hour. He had to be up in a few hours to get ready for another day of trying to get through the near impossible assignment, so unless it was an emergency, he was ignoring it.

The number that flashed on his screen wasn’t one he had seen before. He almost wrote it off as a wrong number or another spam call, but something told him to answer it. The area code was one he knew and a call this late on a Saturday might mean something is going on. So, instead of rolling over and enjoying the few hours of sleep he had left, he answered the mystery number.

“Seresin.”

“Oh shit! That’s the Jake that’s in this phone? Why would he put that number in here?” The voice was female and sounded somewhat familiar but was clearly drunk.

“Sorry to disappoint. Who is this?” Jake was kicking himself for answering it now, having the person insult him within two seconds of talking.

“Ah. Look, you have to promise not to tell my brother anything. Like pinkly swear and everything.” Jake was too tired to entertain childish requests, but the first part of the statement finally sunk in. The only one on the team who had a sister near base was Bradley. Fuck.

“Y/N? Is that you?” He needed the confirmation before freaking out. What did she do that warranted keeping her brother in the dark?

“I am not answering that question until you promise me.” He sat up in bed, turning on the lamp next to him. There was no way this wasn’t her.

“Alright. I promise I won’t tell him right now. Can you tell me what’s going on?” He was hoping she was too drunk to catch how he promised.

“Fine. I’m at this bar with my friend and I played wingman a little too well and she left with this guy. I mean good for her. She just got over this really bad breakup and needed to get laid.” Jake had gotten out of bed and put the phone on speaker as he got dressed. Something told him he was going to have to pick you up from somewhere. That’s if you managed to stop getting sidetracked.

“Anyway, I have this thing about not liking to get in Ubers by myself and it’s a long ass walk back to my apartment.” Jake had grabbed his keys at this point and was walking out the door.

“Where are you? I’m on my way.” He turned on his truck and waited for a response.

“Shoot. Well, we started at one place and now this is place three. No place four. You know what, let me ask because I have no idea.” Jake sighed and shook his head. He had heard stories from Bradley about his younger sister and how reckless you were. Or at least that’s the way he described you. He always kept you on a tight leash, trying his hardest to keep you out of trouble.

But Jake thought you just wanted to have some fun. One of his sisters went through a phase like this and it was best to keep a close eye on them but never push them. For reasons like this.

You told him the name of the bar and he was on his way. “I’ll be there in about 15 minutes. Are you okay to wait inside for me?”

“Yeah, that’s fine. I need to finish this water anyway.” Jake told you to call if something came up but he shouldn’t be long.

It wasn’t but 5 minutes later his phone started ringing again. He saved your number as Baby Bradshaw, knowing that this probably wouldn’t be the last time you called him.

“Yes ma’am?”

“Are you close?” As casual as you tried to sound, Jake could hear a slight bit of urgency.

“Five minutes away. Everything alright?” The hesitation that followed his question told him everything he needed to know. But he waited for your response before he pushed the issue further.

“Umm, it’s probably nothing. Just this guy by the bar keeps giving me this look and it’s making me feel a bit uncomfortable. But I’m also drunk and a tiny bit paranoid.” Jake pushed the accelerator down a bit further, breaking a few laws in order to get to you faster. He wasn't going to be blamed for getting the youngest Bradshaw in trouble.

“I’ve always been told to listen to your gut.” He heard the hum on the other end of the line as he blew through a red light.

“My gut is telling me they want tacos.” Jake couldn’t stop the laugh that came out.

“We can get you tacos on the way home, sweetheart. Now do me a favor and stand where a lot of people can see you. People like security or a bouncer. Can you do that for me?” He heard you hum again.

“Slight problem. He is following me now.” Jake’s heart started to beat faster and knew he needed to get there now.

“Shit. What did Bradley say. Thumb out, use your knuckles.” He shook his head trying to figure out what the hell you were saying. But it clicked a second too late.

“No don’t-“ He heard commotion on the other line and parked his truck right outside the bar. Flying out the door, he nearly ran into you as you were standing by the entrance with a bouncer blocking a guy with blood running from his nose from getting close to you.

Jake grabbed you before you could get around the bouncer and pulled you outside. “I told you to stay the hell away from me, you creep!” You were yelling at the guy all the way outside, letting him know you weren’t to be messed with. He wanted to go back in there and show the guy what happens when you mess with innocent people, but he knew leaving your side wouldn’t be for the best.

When the two of you were next to his truck, Jake let go and looked you over. Your face had a red tint to it from what he assumed had just happened, but besides that you looked to be in one piece. That was until he saw your eyes start to water.

He put a hand under your chin and lifted your head up. “Hey, hey. What’s wrong, sweetheart?”

You sniffed a few times and wiped the tear that managed to escape. “Bradley didn’t say how much it hurts to hit someone.”

Jake bit back a smile and looked down at your hand. While it was a bit red and would surely bruise tomorrow, it didn’t look too bad.

“He probably didn’t think you would ever have to do that. Why don’t we get you back home and you can tell me what happened.” He watched you nod your head and opened his passenger door for you, closing it when you were in.

He waited a few minutes after you were on the road before asking questions. “Want to tell me why you called me instead of your brother?”

You shook your head at the question. “Have you met my brother? It would be nonstop nagging for God knows how long. Anyone else seemed like the better option.” You paused as you remembered exactly who you were with.

“I will say I didn’t expect him to put your name in my phone. He seems to have a strong dislike for you.” Jake smirked at what you had said and shrugged his shoulders.

“He probably knew I had sisters and would do anything to make sure they were alright. Regardless on who they were related to.” You thought this over and nodded your head. It wasn’t long until the next question came.

“What happened at the bar?” You felt his eyes on you and knew he was more concerned than curious.

“The guy I told you was giving me weird looks ended up following me to the door. He stopped me and tried to grab my hand and even though I pulled it away, he kept coming at me. I don’t know, I guess I just felt like I needed to do something to stop him.” You missed the way Jake’s hands tightened on the steering wheel or the clench in his jaw.

“He was lucky I was 30 seconds behind, or he would’ve gotten more than a broken nose.” You looked over and saw how serious he was. A look your brother wore all too often.

“How long until you tell bird boy what happened?” Jakes eyes caught yours and you saw the conflict in them.

“If I was him, I would want to know something happened to my sister. But I will at least drop you off before I call him. Keep your phone on silent and say you fell asleep. That way you can push it off until he gets off tomorrow.” He heard your sigh but that was the end of that.

It was silent in the car until he heard you say, “I’m not as stupid as my brother makes me out to be.” Stupid was never a word he would have used to describe you. A little carefree maybe, but you knew what you were doing.

“I see someone who wants to have a little fun in their life while they can. Nothing wrong with that.” He glanced over to you to see you playing with your injured hand.

“You’re not as bad as they make you out to be either. Besides my brother, not many people would come and get me when they have to be up soon.” Jake held back a wince when he saw the time. A coffee run in the morning would be needed. Maybe he could talk Natasha into picking him up some from that place she always went to.

He pulled into your apartment complex and parked as close to your building as he could.

“Hey, sweetheart. You can call me anytime you need help, okay? I know your brother and I are not on great terms, but I know he would help me out when family is involved.” You gave him a small smile and thanked him for the ride.

He waited until you closed the door before he backed out of the parking lot, trying to figure out what he was going to say to Bradley. It was nearing 2am and calling him was oit of the question. So, he sent a simple text.

Hey man. Your sister called a random number in her contacts tonight and didn’t realize it was me. She needed a safe ride home and that exactly what I did. We can talk about it more at base, but wanted to let you know she is safe. -Hangman

He went to put his phone down when a text popped up. He prayed Bradley wasn’t awake, wanting to push the rest of that conversation off. But instead, it was baby Bradshaw with the text You never got me tacos.

Jake laughed out loud replying that he owes you some in the near future. With a spitfire attitude that you had, Jake saw the two of you becoming good friends. That’s if Bradley didn’t lock you up after tonight’s events.

A/N: Not too sure how I felt about this one but thinking about doing a Jake and Y/N friend series. Thoughts? Likes or dislikes? Thank you for reading!

Tag List: @rosiahills22 @sunlitsunflowers @dempy @mamaskillerqueen @luckyladycreator2 @atarmychick007 @my-soulmate-is-mycroft @topguncultleader @alilstressyandlotdepressy @avengers-fixation @chaoticcassidy

[achilles-rage]

Return the Favour

summary: after buck saves reader when her apartment building goes up in flames, they run into each other at a bar. buck's on an awful first date, and reader decides to help him get out of it.

word count: 5.6k

request: I was wondering if i could request a story about Evan Buckley saving a plus size reader for like a fire or some dangerous situation and they're both attracted to each other but neither of them acts on. A few weeks later or so Buck is actually saved by reader while he's on a bad date he's trying to get out of and (like she makes up an excuse for him or plays along with something he says) and he ends up asking her out.

A/N: i'm sorry this took so long but it's finally out and i may have gotten carried away! this was my first buck request, and it was really fun! and i'm so used to writing good luck charm now that i had to search "evan" and change them all to "buck" at the end LOL also i threw in some abby shade, can you find it?? hehe. anyway, enjoy <3

warnings: reader is caught in a fire, no use of y/n, plus size!reader, fem!reader, race inclusive!reader

You wake up in the middle of the night to the fire alarm in your building echoing off the walls of your apartment. You’re immediately disoriented, as the booming sound makes your ears ring and your head spin. You jump out of bed and make your way out to your living room, and your breath catches in your throat when you see the smoke quickly filling the room. You make your way to your front door, but jump back in pain as the flat surface burns the back of your hand.

Dread fills your belly as you look around the room frantically. You see your cat cowering under your kitchen table, and you quickly run to grab her before she hides under anything where you won’t be able to reach her. You grab her and she lets out a loud meow, but you keep her squirmy body in your arms as you make your way to your window.

You’re four storeys up, and your landlord has still not fixed your fire escape, although you’ve been asking for months. Either way, you throw open your window, hoping to get some fresh air as smoke fills your lungs and burns your throat. 

You run to your room and grab your phone, quickly dialing 9-1-1 as tears form in your eyes.

“9-1-1, what’s your emergency?” the operator asks.

“3246 Weston St. My apartment building’s on fire.” you tell her frantically, phone pressed between your ear and shoulder as you struggle to get onto the fire escape with your cat still in your arms.

“Yes, we know about that. I see fire escapes on the outside of the building. Can you get down?” she asks you calmly, and you feel an odd sense of calm fill your body as her voice fills your ears.

“It’s broken, there’s no ladder. My landlord won’t fix it.” you tell her softly, squeezing your cat to your chest as more tears start to fall.

“What’s your name?” You answer her, sniffling softly.

“Hi, I’m Maddie. We’re gonna get through this together, okay? There’s already firefighter’s on the scene. Can you tell me what side of the building you’re on?” You shake your head, but then reply quickly, knowing she can’t see you.

“I don’t see any. I’m on the back side of the building, on the fire escape. On the fourth floor.” She mumbles an “okay” as she types on her computer. 

“Alright, I’m sending a team over to you, they’ll be right there. Is it just you in your apartment?”

“Just me and my cat.” you mumble, feeling a little silly at your response. The smoke is starting to waft out onto the fire escape, and it makes you cough loudly.

“I’m gonna stay right here with you, okay? We’re gonna get you down. The firefighters should be there now. Do you see them?” You wait for a moment as you look down at the ground, and your heart drops once you see the bright lights turn the corner.

“I see them.” you whisper, holding your cat tighter as the sirens spook her. You barely even hear Maddie’s response as your heart hammers in your chest. You make your way to the railing of the fire escape, watching as the aerial ladder is extended up to you.

You let out a sigh of relief once two very attractive firefighters are almost up to you on the ladder. You can’t help the embarrassment filling your body as you look down at your oversized shirt, with no bra, just long enough to cover your short spandex shorts, but you’re too happy to finally get off of your fire escape that you don’t care. 

“Eddie, you get the cat, I’ll get her.” one of them speaks, and the other one, Eddie, nods as he holds out his arms towards you.

You let out a soft sigh before you hand your cat to him, watching nervously as he starts making his way down the ladder with your cat twisting around in his arms. Buck takes this moment to trail his eyes down your figure, taking in your thick thighs and soft tummy. You’re absolutely gorgeous, but there’s no time for that.

“Alright, let’s get you down.” Buck tells you, his eyes flicking back up to meet yours. You cross your arms instinctively as your eyes trail down the ladder. He senses your fear, and holds his hands out.

“I’m Buck. What’s your name?” he asks when you don’t make a move to the ladder. He sees the gears turning in your head as you mumble your name, and he smiles softly, rolling it around on his tongue, committing it to memory.

“It’s okay, I’ll be right behind you the whole time.” he says softly, trying to coax you out onto the ladder. Your eyes move to his hands before going back up to his face, and you nod slowly. You put your hands on the railing, ready to hoist yourself over the railing and onto the ladder.

“Alright, I’m gonna hold onto you to keep you steady. Is that okay?” he asks, and you nod as nerves fill your belly. He grabs onto your plush hips firmly as you swing one leg over the railing, and he helps guide your other leg over the ladder until your bare feet are on the ladder. 

“There you go, I got you.” he whispers once you’re pressed against him. He moves one hand off your hip and grips the railing of the ladder, then urges you to start making your way down backwards, with him going down first behind you. 

You close your eyes for a moment and let out a shaky breath, then start to move once you open your eyes again. He keeps one hand on your hip the whole way down, keeping his body tense in case you slip. He tries to keep his eyes respectfully on the back of your head, but he can’t help it when his eyes trail down to your ass, just barely covered by your shorts as your shirt rides up.

“You’re doing so good. Just a few more steps.” he speaks once you’re almost to the bottom of the ladder. You smile softly at his words, despite the way your heart is pounding out of your chest. His presence calms you.

Once you’re finally down on the ground, you turn to him with a shy smile. 

“Thank you.” you say softly, looking up at him.

“Of course. You should get checked out. Make sure you didn’t inhale too much smoke.” he tells you, returning your smile. Now that he has the chance, he studies your face. If he was still the old Buck, he would ask you out, loving your sweet voice, pretty face, and gorgeous body. But he doesn’t date people he meets on the job anymore, and he’s cursing himself for that rule right about now.

You let him take you over to the ambulance, and you’re surprised when he stays there with you. The fire is for the most part out, as a few other stations were also called, so he doesn’t feel bad staying with you. He stands in front of you as Hen checks you out, taking your cat from Eddie while he waits.

He can’t help but strike up a conversation as he pets your cat, desperate to know more about you. He asks where you’re from, and what you do, and even manages to ask if you’re single. He doesn’t flat out ask that question, but after asking about your apartment, he learns that you don’t often have people spending the night, and he’s relieved.

You learn more about him too. You learn that his sister is the operator that you spoke to on the phone, and that he’s from Pennsylvania. He tells you a little about his travels before he landed in LA, but there’s not much time to go into detail, as Hen finishes looking you over quickly.

He hands you back your cat, and your hands brush each other’s as you take her back. You both freeze at the small contact, lingering for a moment too long.

“Well it was nice to meet you. Thanks again.” you trail off as you look up at him. You want to see him again, but you’re sure he’s just this nice with everyone while on the job.

“Yeah, it was nice meeting you too. Do you have somewhere to go tonight?” His voice has a hint of concern, thinking about you having nowhere to go. He lets out a relieved sigh as he sees you nod.

“My friend lives a few blocks away. I can get an Uber over there.” you reply.

“We’ll wait with you. Don’t want you alone out here.” Your smile widens at his kindness, and you can feel your cheeks heating up at his insistence, although you’re sure it’s probably just protocol. You feel butterflies in your tummy at the idea of him wanting to stay, regardless of the reason. 

In reality, he just wants to spend more time with you. He’s on the verge of asking you out, but as your Uber pulls up, he decides he shouldn’t. Maybe it’s better this way, he thinks.

You thank him once again before you get into the Uber, also thanking Eddie and Hen quickly, who are standing back and watching you and Buck with raised brows.

Once you’re in the car and it’s finally out of sight, Hen and Eddie can’t help but laugh. Buck turns to them with furrowed brows, his cheeks heating up in embarrassment.

“What?” he asks as he fights back a smile, still thinking about you.

“For a second I thought you were gonna invite her to go home with you.” Hen teases him, bumping her shoulder with his as they walk back towards the front of the ambulance, which is right behind the fire truck.

“I don’t date people I meet on the job anymore; you know that.” he says with a soft laugh, shaking his head.

“That’s a shame. You two were really hitting it off.” Eddie adds onto Hen’s teasing, smirking as they all walk side by side.

“Yeah, I know.” Buck murmurs, getting slightly upset. He’s starting to regret not asking for your number; he’s already desperate to see you again. 

He’s forced to push it aside quickly, however, as he hears Bobby’s voice over the radio calling the three of them to the front of the building for triage.

A few weeks later, you’re still staying with your friend, Jordan. You’re lucky, the fire had only gotten to a small part of your apartment, and most of your things were left untouched, but you still aren’t allowed back in your apartment. You immediately told her all about the cute firefighter, of course, and she was almost as upset as you were that you didn’t try to ask him out. 

You can’t help but think about him still; he’s the most attractive guy you think you’ve ever seen, and he’s kind, and funny. Either way, you were way too nervous at the time, and he was on the job. Even if you didn’t meet while he was working, you don’t think you would’ve said anything anyway. And he hadn’t said anything either, so you try your best to forget about him.

Buck spends the next few weeks thinking about you too. He even tried a dating app or two, hoping your photo would pop up on his screen, but to no avail. He thinks about your pretty face often, but his mind also seems to wander to your soft curves, and how your thick thighs were on full display for him to take in in your shorts.

He finally agreed to go out with another girl he met on an app, deciding he should just move on rather than driving himself crazy. He knows he could ask Maddie to pull up the call log and he could get your number, but he knows that would be weird. And a little bit creepy.

He’s sitting in a small bar close to his apartment, a small, absent-minded smile on his face as he stares across the table at his date. This is the longest date he thinks he’s ever had. It was very clear as soon as his date started talking that she has no interest in actually getting to know him, the first give away being that she chose the dimly lit dive bar. While he wouldn’t necessarily say no to it, that’s not really what he’s looking for anymore. 

He’s listening to a story of when she went on vacation to Colombia when he hears a soft laugh coming from the bar. His eyes trail over and see you standing there, talking to what he assumes is two of your friends.

His throat goes dry as he takes in your figure, studying your soft curves and slightly revealing outfit. He can hardly hear the woman across from him now, studying your every move and expression.

He tears his eyes away from you after a moment and refocuses on his date, not wanting to seem rude. He keeps his eye on you out of the corner of his eye, however, ready to run after you if you leave before his date ends.

He keeps listening to his date, who has barely let him get a word in, but he looks very clearly bored. He can’t help it; he tries to reply every time she pauses, but his heart is pounding. He finally found you, and it was a complete coincidence. Like fate.

You don’t notice Buck right away; you’re so wrapped up in your little girls night out to even look around the bar. It’s not until your friend Jordan points to him, saying how hot he is, that your eyes finally land on him.

You can’t help the smile that breaks onto your face, and your eyes are trained on him for a few seconds until Jordan’s voice finally breaks through your haze.

“What?” she asks with a small laugh, and her smile fades when she sees the way you look over at her with a dazed expression

“It’s him. The firefighter.” you tell her, biting your lip as you look back over at him.

“You have to go talk to him. Before you lose him again.” Jordan tells you with a gasp as your other friend, Alyssa, asks what the hell you two are talking about.

Jordan explains to Alyssa while you think her words over. You don’t think you have it in you to go over. Maybe if you were much more drunk than you are right now, but currently, you wouldn’t be able to will your feet to move. 

“He’s on a date. I can’t just interrupt them. And what would I even say?” you argue softly once she’s finished explaining, looking over at Jordan. You chew the inside of your cheek nervously. The girl he’s with is gorgeous, and you begin to think that he was definitely just being so nice to you because he was working.

“Look at him. He looks so bored. He definitely doesn’t want to be there. Go save him.” Alyssa chimes in after she’s caught up, eyes glancing between you and him.

“Oh, no. I couldn’t.” you mumble, turning back to the bar and ordering a cocktail once you flag down the bartender. 

“Actually, we’ll just get 4 shots.” Alyssa says, smirking as she looks at you sideways. “You just need a shot or two in you, then you’ve gotta get over there. Before it’s too late. You’re gonna regret it if you don’t.” she tells you once the bartender walks away to get the bottle. 

You sigh, shaking your head. But before you can speak, the bartender puts the shots down on the table in front of you. Jordan immediately puts a shot in your hand and lifts it to your lips. You begrudgingly swallow it, letting in a sharp inhale as you feel it burning your throat. 

Your friends then each grab a shot and throw them back, then Alyssa grabs the last shot and holds it out to you.

“Come on, you just need some courage.” she teases, and you roll your eyes again before you take the shot. You were planning on drinking tonight anyway, and whether or not you’re going to go up to him, you figure you might as well take the shots. 

A little while later, you can feel the alcohol coursing through your veins. You’ve been swaying softly to the music as you talk to your friends, but your eyes never stray far from Buck. You always end up looking at each other at different times, so neither of you know that the other person knows of each other's presence. 

“I think now is your chance. He looks ready to kill himself.” Jordan tells you over the music, and all three of you look over at Buck’s table. He has a smile on his face, but his eyes lack any real emotion. 

You take a deep breath, and before you can even think, you let out a soft “okay.” Your friends smile widely, both taking turns to fix various parts of your appearance to make sure you look perfect. Jordan smooths down your top while Alyssa fixes your necklace, and then they both look up into your eyes.

“Go get him. Your ass looks great in those jeans, he’s gonna love it.” You feel your cheeks heating up at Alyssa’s words and you laugh softly. You can feel your hands shaking, but you quickly push your nerves aside and finally make your way over to him. He saved you once, and now it’s time for you to return the favour, although this situation is much lower stakes. 

“Oh my God, Buck! Hey!” you say once you reach his table, a large smile on your face. His eyes are on you in an instant, and he smiles widely, unable to stop his eyes trailing down to your cleavage peeking out of your top.

You open your arms, and he stands up quickly, wrapping his arms around your waist while you loop yours around his neck. 

“Do you want help getting out of this date?” you whisper in his ear, and you smirk as you feel his slight nod against your skin. “Follow my lead.”

You pull back, barely even looking at his date as you continue to speak. You’re glad he said yes, or else this would be really awkward.

“I haven’t seen you in forever! How have you been?” You don’t even give him the chance to reply before you turn to the girl.

“How do you know my ex-boyfriend? He’s a handful, I’ll tell you that. Good luck.” you tell her with a smirk. You turn back to Buck and look at him with as much desire in your eyes as you can muster, not that it’s hard, and he matches your expression immediately. 

You know this will work; most girls don’t want to have to deal with a guy that’s still so close with their ex. You see the girl’s face fall slightly from the corner of your eye, and you look back to her, waiting for her answer.

“Oh, um, we don’t really know each other that well.” she replies with a small smile, and you can see the way she tenses slightly, starting to feel a little awkward.

“Lucky you.” you tell her with a soft laugh, looking back up at Buck, whose arm has found its way around your waist. Even still, he keeps his hand hovering over your skin, just close enough for no one else to notice, not wanting to make you uncomfortable just in case you came over just to be nice. 

“I’m sorry. I should let you get back to your date.” you tell her, an apologetic look on your face, although your eyes have no hint of remorse. “Oh, and Buck, are you still coming over tomorrow night? My roommate’s going out of town.” you tell him, licking your lips. He nods, in a daze. He knows you’re not being serious, but he can’t fight the images that his mind is creating. 

“Actually, it’s getting pretty late. I should probably go.” she mutters, standing up from the table and putting her purse over her shoulder. “It was nice to meet you. I’ll text you.” she tells Buck softly, but all three of you know she doesn’t really mean it. 

Once she’s out of sight, you turn to Buck, suddenly feeling your brain catching up to your actions. He senses your quick flip, and removes his arm from your waist, mumbling a quick “sorry.” 

“No, you’re good. I just don’t normally do stuff like this, and I’m just now realizing that. I’m sorry, maybe I had too much to drink.” you admit sheepishly, your face growing hot once again as you feel yourself rambling.

“No, I appreciate it. Honestly, I’ve been thinking about you since we met. I was gonna ask you out, but I sort of have this rule that I don’t date people I meet on the job.” he tells you, smiling down at you. He licks his lips as his eyes trace your face, studying it, memorizing it. Your eyes widen slightly in surprise. He wanted to ask you out? The thought makes your stomach flip in excitement, and it causes a new wave of confidence to flow through you. 

“Well, you’re not working right now, right?” you tease him softly, a hopeful look on your face. 

“Yeah, I guess not. How about I buy you a drink?” he replies, his smile morphing to a smirk. You nod slowly, so focused on him that you don’t even think about your friends watching you from across the bar. 

You decide on something without alcohol instead once you get to the bar, not wanting to risk a hangover the next day. Your friends realize quickly that you aren’t coming back to hang out with them, and they’re happy for you. They keep an eye on you for an hour or so, but when they realize how into each other you are, they decide to leave.

You talk for hours, talking about anything and everything, until the bartender does final call, and you both realize how long you’ve been talking. 

“I guess I should get home.” you say with a sigh. Your cheeks hurt from laughing and smiling so much, and you’ve drifted so close together over the last few hours that you don’t even notice his leg has settled between yours as you sit on the bar stools. You wouldn’t have to lean very far to connect your lips, you think to yourself.

“Or, you could come back to mine?” he asks with hope in his eyes. He knows he shouldn’t be asking you this; he wants to take you on a proper date first, but with the way you’re looking at him, he can’t stop the words that slip from his mouth. You bite your lip as you fight back a smile, but nod after a moment.

“Okay.” you murmur, and that’s all it takes for him to grab your hand and drag you to his jeep, but not before slamming some cash on the bar counter. You laugh as he drags you outside, amused by his eagerness. Once he gets to his jeep he pushes you against it, meeting your lips in a passionate kiss. 

A soft noise escapes the back of your throat as your back hits the door, but you happily kiss him back. Your arms make their way around his neck again and one hand lands in his hair, your fingers weaving through it. He keeps his hands on your hips, but he’s itching to touch you everywhere. 

He pulls back after a moment and opens the door, his pupils blown and his jeans getting tighter. You smile up at him and then get into the jeep, watching him dreamily as he makes his way to the driver’s side. 

He keeps his hand on your thigh the whole way home, rubbing your inner thigh with his thumb. He squeezes your flesh every now and then, smiling over at you each time, and once he pulls into his building parking lot, he’s quick to jump out of the car and jog over to your side. 

He keeps his hands on you the entire way up to his apartment, trailing up your sides, and once you walk into his apartment, he pushes you against the wall and meets your lips again in a dizzying kiss. 

He slides his tongue into your mouth, and both of your hands are clawing at each other, eager for more. His hands travel down to the back of your thighs, and he whispers “jump” against your lips. You hesitate for a moment, nervous about him lifting you up. He picks up on your hesitancy and pulls back for a moment with a smirk. He grabs the back of your thighs hard and lifts you up, pinning your back to the wall once again.

His lips are immediately back on you, kissing and nipping down your neck to your collarbone. You’re so focused on his lips on you that you barely have time to react to his strength. You’re not used to being lifted like this, and it makes desire pool between your legs. 

He pulls back from your neck and pulls you off the wall, keeping his hands under your thighs as he moves to the stairs. You look over your shoulder at where he’s heading, and your arms tighten around his neck as you laugh softly. Your head is spinning as he walks up the stairs; he lifts you up so effortlessly, and you can’t wait to see how else he puts his strength to use. 

He throws you onto his bed, staring down at you as you sit up on your elbows, chest rising and falling rapidly as lust overtakes every sense. He smirks as he takes in your body sprawled out on his bed. He looks down your body, taking in your chest, and your plush belly, and your thick thighs, and he thinks he’s died and gone to heaven.

“God, you’re gorgeous.” he mumbles before he grabs your ankles and pulls you towards the end of the bed, making you squeal softly.

The next morning, you wake up naked in a room you don’t recognize, as you were too focused on Buck last night to notice anything around you. The events from last night flood your mind as you feel an arm firmly draped across your waist, and you can’t help the smile that breaks onto your face. 

You can hear his steady breathing from behind you, and you know he’s still asleep. It’s probably early, you think, as the hint of light coming in from the bedroom window looks like the sun hasn’t quite broken over the horizon.

You try to move his arm slowly, seeing his bathroom door connected to his bedroom. As you do, you feel his grip tighten, and he pulls you tighter against him.

“Where do you think you’re going? I just found you again, I’m not letting you go this soon.” he teases in a raspy voice, just barely above a whisper. You laugh softly and turn in his grip to face him, smiling as you take in his sleepy eyes and soft smile.

“I’m just going to the bathroom.” you whisper back, as if trying not to ruin the calmness surrounding you both. He groans, and finally releases you after a moment, but not before he leans in for a soft kiss. He turns to lay on his back, folding his arms behind his head to watch you walk to the bathroom. He smirks as his eyes observe your bare figure, licking his lips.

Once you’re done in the bathroom, you go back to bed, laying on your side beside him and resting your cheek on his chest. He grabs your thigh as you drape your leg across his hips, humming softly as he feels your soft skin. 

“You want some breakfast?” he asks after a little while, giving you both some time to wake up. You raise your head and rest your chin on his chest as you look up at him, nodding. He smiles as his eyes glance across your face, admiring the way the sun is hitting your face, having finally breached the horizon. 

He then leans down to give you a soft kiss, his hand moving from your thigh to your cheek. Once he pulls away, you keep your eyes closed for a moment, reveling in his touch and warm gaze.

“What kind of breakfast?” you whisper once you open your eyes. He shrugs before he speaks, still trying not to disrupt the comfortable quiet surrounding you.

“Anything you want. Eggs, waffles. I’m pretty skilled in the kitchen.” he teases, winking. You raise your eyebrows in surprise. How is he still single? Cute, kind, smart, and a good cook? You can’t believe it.

“Do you have strawberries and blueberries?” you ask softly, smiling once he nods. “Let’s make waffles.” 

He nods at your words, sighing loudly and stretching before he sits up slowly. You move off of him and watch as he gets up and puts on some grey sweatpants, and your eyes wander down his body quickly, making him chuckle. 

You get up and find your bra and panties on his floor, putting them on quickly. You debate on putting back on your jeans and top from last night, afraid Buck’s shirt wouldn’t fit you in a cute oversized way, but you decide against it. It’s too early for jeans, and with the way he was worshiping your body last night, you don’t think he’d turn down the opportunity of watching you walking around his kitchen so exposed.

He pulls you into another kiss once you’re semi-dressed, his hands making their way to your cheeks. You smile against his lips, and bite your lip gently once you pull back, and he keeps his eyes closed for a moment. 

“Jump.” he whispers after a moment, and you oblige this time, letting him lift you in his arms. You wrap your legs around his waist as he makes his way to the stairs.

“You really don’t have to carry me everywhere, you know.” you say with a soft laugh. You turn your head to watch where he’s going, arms tightening around his neck instinctively as he reaches the stairs.

“Nuh uh, come on. I saw your face last night. Don’t lie, you love it.” he teases you, squeezing your thighs. You shake your head and your cheeks heat up in embarrassment as you realize that he noticed. 

Once you get to the kitchen he sets you down on the counter, his hands lingering on your hips as he tries to memorize the sight of you, almost naked on his kitchen counter, your soft belly on full display for him. He backs away slowly as he takes one final look, then turns and starts grabbing ingredients from the pantry and fridge. 

You notice he’s making waffles from scratch, and your heart swells at the thought of him putting in so much effort. You try to tell him you can help, but he cuts you off, insisting that all he wants you to do is to “sit there and look pretty,” which makes you giggle. You can’t help feeling giddy around him; you feel like a lovesick teenager.

Once he’s finished with breakfast, you slide off the counter and make your way to the kitchen table. He brings the berries, the maple syrup, and some whipped cream over, and you both dig in.

He waits to see your reaction, and grins widely when he sees you moan softly in contentment, closing your eyes. You look over at him as he admires you, and you look down, smiling softly, not used to this kind of attention. 

“Can I take you out?” he asks you halfway through breakfast. He chuckles softly as you look up at him with a raised brow, and he reaches up to wipe a bit of whipped cream off your upper lip. 

“You already took me out.” you reply softly, licking your lips after his thumb brushes over them.

“That doesn’t count, we just happened to be there at the same time. I want to take you out for real. A nice dinner, maybe a walk or something after, get some ice cream. What do you say?” he corrects you, giving you a wink. You smile, nodding as you mumble a soft “okay.” 

Once you’re finished with breakfast, he leads you to the couch and wraps a blanket around both of you. You’re leaning against his chest and his arm is draped on the back of the couch behind you, which makes your stomach flip.

He turns on a movie, but you’re too busy talking and laughing with each other to really pay attention. As he looks down at your pretty face, his smile stays plastered to his face. He’s so glad he agreed to that God awful date, and that you were willing to help him out of it, because now that he has you, he never wants to let you go.

notes: likes/comments/reblogs would be much appreciated if you liked this<33

click here for my masterlist!

click here to be added to my taglist!

click here to read my request rules!

taglist: @sherlocksbaby2323 @essienoe @p14th0mps0n @celestixldarling @minsugafour @brooke0297 @zelfanswhenshecan @sarahsmi13s @avengersgirllorianna @bingbongsupremacy @nishinoyahhh @alyssanicole01 @outof-spite @supernatural-bangtanboys @sporadicmakerwerewolf @x0xchristine @pear-1206 @swanshells @tpwkstiles @lulubelle14 @cannibalhellhound @odetolocksmiths @charlie-winchester94 @hollandxxmix @evysian @buckandeddiesverison @love-kha1 @starbyun92939798 @maxinish @theking-mustdie @daeswash @911varietyposts @superlock-in-the-tardis @officiallyalbino @girl-of-multi-fandoms @wanniiieeee @dreams-encapsulated-in-glamour @keyweegirlie @catkight @hufflepuff-spidey @starboygf @lilsquatch7898 (if you interacted with my taglist post and are not on this list, make sure your blog is visible in searches, otherwise i can’t tag you!)